Weekly Writing Challenge!



“It’s getting dark, sweetie.  You sure, you still wanna wait for your mom?”

This isn’t the first time I heard this.  It wouldn’t be my last.  I can guess where she is right now.  She’s probably flirting with the new trainer at her gym.  No better yet, sleeping with the new trainer at her gym.  She might be at the mall, spending her alimony on panties that were meant to be seen.  She might be having coffee with the youth pastor at our old church.  One of the many possible reasons why I’m sitting here filling up the space between my fingers and nails with rust, dirt and yellow paint.

She picked this place out.  Why couldn’t she pick Disney World or Chuck E Cheese?  At least the lights and the mechanical dolls are louder than the tune of rejection.  I’m forced to blend in with my hollow com padres on this broken merry-go-round.  Ha!  Merry go round.  It seems like every weekend we gang up, take our positions, and just stare into nothingness.

I know when I get back to school tomorrow, Ms. Sharon is going to ask how my mom is doing?  I’ll shoot her the same coy smile and mumble, “She’s ok.”  Of course, Ms. Sharon won’t believe me.  That’s the whole reason why she asks, but who is she really concerned about?  Me?  Maybe my dad?  I’ve seen the way you look at him, Ms. Sharon.  Trust me.  He’s not ready.  Love was a real thing to him.  Love was a test of faith, commitment and trust.  Now love is a convenience that he can’t afford anymore.  She took half.

Yep.  I’ll be back again next week.  And the week after that.  And after that if the Lord is willing.  There are a lot of things we can block out and pretend that it never existed.  Love isn’t one of them.  I’ll be back because I refuse to forget the feeling of safety and warmth in her arms.  I refuse to forget her apologetic voice when she talks about my dad.  I refuse to forget her smile when she gazes into my eyes and realize they look just like hers.


Why am I blogging in the first place?

terrier dog

Faith when we first got her.

It is close to the end of August…  Close to the end of the year…  Close to the end of my 30th year on this earth.  With the end of this season, why in the world would I want to start a blog now?


To be honest with you, I don’t really care who reads this.  I don’t care if no one reads it at all.  See, me just looking back at that statement reminds me of how easily someone can be misinterpreted with words.  You need the whole get up to really understand how a person thinks, feels, loves…  Ok, take this trip with me because there is going to be a lot of this going on.

“I don’t care if no one reads it at all.”

I do care but not to the extent that I’ll stop writing if no one reads.  That one statement doesn’t really say that but it’s what people mean.  I know that, you know that.  But now, we’re in a legalistic world where you just can’t assume such things.  I can already pan this out.  I’ll make the comment that I don’t care if no one reads this and then turn around in another post and say something like… hey, why doesn’t anyone read?  A legalistic person will feel the need to remind me of what I wrote previously and then proceed to feel better about themselves as if they caught the very one thing that made everything go to poop.  I am aware.

This is a personal thing.  This is me.  This is for me.  These are my thoughts flooding an internet page.  This is my record of joys and pains, wins and failures.  This is my tool of motivation.  This is my account.  This is how I’m going to stop making the same mistakes over and over again.


I’m making a transition in my life.  Right now, I’m moving to another place.  We got rid of everything.  I think the only things we have in our possession are electronic or you can wear it.  Some both.  And if we weren’t already stripped of our worldly things, the dog runs away.  I can’t make that up.  I can write a whole country album right now.

Twice, I was told by people who I believe hear from God, that I need to be writing a book or working on a literary project.  Two different people that I know have never met.  Here’s the funny thing.  I have no idea what I’m supposed to be writing about.  I read the bible all the way through maybe 1 and a half times.  I have memorized more song lyrics than I have bible verses.  I stay inside all day and all night.  (I had a job where I work from home.  Call center.  you know.)  I’m not fulfilling my purpose.  You know how “real recognize real”.  Yeah, well, I’m looking pretty unfamiliar right now.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not hanging out on Bourbon, cracking it up with the locals, and sleeping with the first guy that looked me in the eye and not on my ta ta’s.  But I know I’m not in the delight of the Lord.  I want to desperately be back there….

Alright, before you start contriving encouraging words and finding scripture you want me to read, let me let you know something.  I’m a hands on, gotta get the revelation myself, kind of learner.  Feel free to leave whatever comments, advice, love, hates… whatever you feel led to share.  But I’m not hear to offend anyone.  I may not take heed to your advice.  This can lead to offense to you, to me, to my family… Please, I’m being honest with you, just be honest with me.  I am a working progress and by the time you probably have the time to read AND comment… God probably has already covered that with me.  Yes, I want you to comment, share your thoughts, speak your mind!  Just don’t get offended.

So like I said, I’m working on it.  This is my first step to restoration.  I’ve been flirting around the idea of making my plights so public but wasn’t Jesus public with His life.  No, I’m not Jesus, but I want to imitate Him.  So like the disciples, I want to give an account too.  Jesus is with me too.  Peter, Paul, Mark, Matthew… they were regular men like you and me.  God made these guys extraordinary and I understand that God can do the same thing for me.  This was my revelation and now it’s time to stop planning and execute.


Writing, like to many people, can be a form of therapy.  I don’t go see a professional and I really don’t think I have the need to, but it wasn’t a man made notion to confess your sins to one another.  It is important for a person who is trying to follow the will of God to stay social.  Or is it?  Look, it’s just me and my husband against the world and it would be awesome if that’s the way God wanted it to stay but being separated from the world AND the church puts you in a spiritual stand still.  But I’m not going to jump into any church building and secretly complain in my mind of how the worship leads me more toward sleep than the Cross.  Or pretend that the message touched me and then walk out critiquing the pastor’s delivery or judging if he was really “Spirit-filled” during the message.  I do more sinning in church than not even attending.  Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m alone.

Ok, this is what haunts me.  I went to this church…  It was baptist…kind of.  Lots of baptist seminary students and graduates.  It was a church plant that seems to be a popular thing now and days.  So you got this charismatic pastor with young leadership.  There was a lady with adult kids.  One of which cannot take care of herself because I think she has cerebral palsy or something….  This sweet lady came to the women’s group, volunteered any way she can, desperately wanted more of God than the teaspoons she was getting fed.  She died.  Her daughter now have to go to her sister, who has a family she can barely take care of.  Ok, that part is sad, but what about the sweet lady?  She died starving.  She was drinking milk until she was well passed meat.  She was always eager to share her revelations and even though it sounded like it came from a 6th grade education, and her paraphrasing the bible wasn’t exactly accurate, but that lady was so happy talking about God.  Did she fulfill the calling that God had for her?  She had every opportunity to experience God in a much deeper level but who was going to lead her into the secret place.  I don’t even believe that a lot of the leadership there, don’t even know what I’m talking about.  Where was I?

I don’t know what’s going to come out of this blog.  I have no idea if it’s even the thing God wants me to do now, but I gotta do something.  I can’t keep idle anymore.  Maybe we can reveal ourselves together?  Maybe we can uncover what we do out of pure tradition.  Uncover habits and real spiritual traits.  Maybe we can stop drinking this milk and graduate to soft solids.

I don’t know.  That’s just my opinion.