One Wee Spark

I've shared recently about my fear of making personal phone calls, but as I was searching deep inside of myself with God's help ( "Search me [thoroughly], O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there is any wicked or hurtful way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."--Psalm 139:23-24 AMP ), I realized that I'm really bad at this thing called friendship. It's not that I don't want to have friends; it's not even that I don't recognize the traits of a good friend, the actions it requires to become a good friend. It's simply that friendship carries a risk--of pain, of loss of control, of being betrayed. I'm deeply afraid of those things although I am working a little bit each day towards casting off my fear. In fact, the hardest part of this is my fear of making NEW friends. The people who have known me for years have learned to accept me and my lopsided connections and interactions. But when I meet someone new

"Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make you defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence. Keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame."-I Peter 3:13-16 (NRSV) This morning, after posting my daily blog entry, I clicked on the "Share" button, hoping to post my blog link to my status on Facebook. I've been doing this regularly...probably for the last six months although previous to the last month, my posts have been few and far between. This morning, as I logged into Facebook to post the link, I received this message: This message contains blocked content that has previously been flagged as abusi

I wrote this on my flight to DC over eighteen months ago. I didn't know exactly what I would find, but the return, I knew, required me to really face the past. I'm sharing this here again (I shared this the first time in January 2010, and wrote it on August 29th, 2009). It reminds me of my divine calling to share my testimony with others of the great love, forgiveness, and healing I have been bathed in. ___________________________________________ Going home resurrects deep-seated anxiety within me. The laissez-faire days of childhood have long ago been erased by the haunting of shame, false guilt, dread, and embarassment. It's amazing just how much the human soul can tolerate, still functioning in "normalcy". Its adaptability likens itself to the chameleon. And yet, the past lurks just below the surface mimicing rational thought. The hurt child grows and matures often, and may in fact appear to have received healing until faced with the return to the childhood hom

"A square peg in a round hole is an idiomatic expression which describes the unusual individualist who could not fit into a niche of his society." (from Wikipedia) Oh, yes! I have long felt like the square peg trying to be pushed into a round hole. As a child, I was painfully aware that my mother was a singular parent, which made our family a square peg amongst round holes. I hit puberty long before most of the other girls, yet another reminder that I was a square peg among a world of round holes. My faith and beliefs have often made me aware that I am a square peg in a sea of round holes. And I hated this for so long! No one wants to feel like they are different. Conformity is the desire of every adolescent (so long as it is to their peers and not their parents!). We attempt to keep up with the Joneses, just an attempt to round the edges off of our square pegs to fit into all those round holes! Have a large family...and whoa! That is one SQUARE peg you've created! I'

It seems like every time we turn around, someone is blaming their mom for not loving them enough, not holding them enough, something! And honestly, while I went through a phase where I was inclined to hold my mother responsible for my faults, I've also spent enough time focusing on my own personal recovery to know one thing: IT'S NOT HER FAULT! Sure, my mom made mistakes. She's said and done some really horrible things. But she also did some really great things. I'm not going to spend a bunch of time listing out the bad things versus the great things. This isn't about the pro's and con's of my mom's parenting skills. IT'S ABOUT ME! Yes, I did learn some really twisted viewpoints and habits because of my upbringing. We all do. No one has a perfect parent, and if they do PLEASE introduce me because I'd love to have them teach ME how to be a perfect parent. I'm not trying to say that my childhood didn't affect me. Saying that would be lyin