Filed under: Angela's Journal
Today is the third anniversary of Erin’s death, and no one can find our videos. This doesn’t stop the plans for dinner, though. I have my suspicions of where they might be. So, just me and the girls, a bunch of pictures, and Cracker Barrel. Update later.
I had a post going, and I don’t care to restart it. Here’s the short of it. Big snow, big emotions this week. You are here, and I know it. Thank you for the prayer meeting. How do I get started? Where do I go? Beside further into debt. I miss my sister and I wish I had my car and it wasn’t snowing so badly. Help.
When it’s hard and when it’s not. Help me to remember. When I feel deserted. When I feel the fire, let me remember that I asked for it. When I wanna scream, let me pray instead. Let my focus ever be on You. Let me see the love I so want to in the people I meet. I cannot change, but You can change me. God, open my eyes because I don’t understand. No matter how much time I spend seeking You, the answers never seem to come in my code. I don’t see how the pieces fit. I don’t see where I fit. It’s like the tape from Lost;nobody knows what it means, and the more answers they get, the more questions they have.
I have never walked on water and I’ve never calmed a storm Sometimes I’m hiding away from the madness around me, like a child who’s afraid of the dark
But, when I call on Jesus, all things are possible. I can mount on wings like eagles and soar. When I call on Jesus, mountains are gonna fall.He’ll move heaven and earth to come rescue me when I call.
Help me to own this. Thank You, God.
Filed under: Letters to God
Look at this mess, all over the place.Wait, I am the mess.The seperation has made me cold, yet strong. Stronger than I ever was. I let go of the things I can’t control, turning from the life I knew. You led me to this place of desperation, and you brought me thru it. When I thought people couldn’t hurt me anymore, that last blow struck. When did I turn from you and try to make my own way?
As I turn back to you, knowing only parts of the long and narrow road, I see new hope and a new freedom. The hope that you have something better in mind and a dream that only you can fulfill. Though parts of me still want to depend on others, I turn to You to fill me. Only You know what I need, and only You can provide these things.
Freedom for Your children. Grace for us who believe. Your love for all. Work in me;bring on the fire. Show me what You’re all about. Let me not be shaken by the cares of the world. I wait for You.
Filed under: Letters to God
As I type this, I have four cents to my name. I had hoped my check was in the mail today for naught. I had my nieces for half the day and that was great; having them ask why I ever moved out brought it down a notch, but it was still sweet. As things have been in the past couple of weeks, I ponder the great mysteries of life.
What makes a person want to shoot up a school? How can I be so selfish to think about my paycheck coming in the mail as a family mourns their daughter? What am I doing wrong? Am I to believe that the AFA is where I should work until the end of my life, give up horseshoeing, not reach for better and settle for where I am? Can I trust anyone with these feelings? Are they logical? Will I see my sister in heaven? The one with eyes of bluest skies, a heart of gold, and the one who, no matter what, would have let me lay on her lap as she brushed my hair with her fingers, and let me cry until I was done? No conversation, just tears. Oh, how I miss her.
Do I take the chance of always being in debt, go back to school, and become a counselor of others who share my childhood experiences? Do I stay where I’m at? Can I afford that? right now, I feel as though I am being pulled in every direction, all at once, wondering which part of me will break first. God, if you want my broken heart, here it is. When the pieces all fall down, only you can use them. So, here I am. I have to ask, “Can you really use me?” Someone who, at times, despises everything they are? Someone who barely distinguishes love from abuse? A person who can’t take care of themself, yet yearns to care for others? And then, given the chance, blows off those very same people, for an adventure?
Really, God, you’re the only one listening now. I need you to cover me. I can’t go on like this. I need someone to understand. I’ve never hung on a cross. I didn’t die for the sins of anyone, much less everyone. I was not publicly ridiculed for hours, as my followers deserted me. I can’t even wrap my mind around this, except to say to myself, ” Quit whining, you selfish little twit, it’s all over and it’s time to move on!”
I’ve been moving on for 11 years, yet I think I’ve been standing still the whole time. I’ve forgiven the people, I’ve tried to forget the offenses. Everytime I hear of abusive fathers and uncaring mothers, it comes back. Every time I hear certain names, I cringe. Every time I hear simple words, such as “shooting”, “abuse”, and “abandoned”, a fit of rage swallows my heart with a coldness so deep, I fear I might freeze to death. Did you know I have thes fits? Does anyone know that I almost killed somone? Does anyone know that underneath my callousness, there is a heart so terribly broken, that I don’t even know myself anymore? Do they care?
Can I trust you with my heart? I don’t believe it can bear much more. Can you fix it? Can you send me one person, just one, who can say, honestly, ” I don’t know what you’re going thru, but I’ll be here for you”? How about someone to say, ” Your past doesn’t make me view you any differently.” God, I am so tired of seeing every day exactly the same as the day before. I know I have to change. I know it’s me, and not the world. I know you love me. And yet, at this point, none of it really seems to matter much to me. I also know pains so terrible, people cringe upon hearing them, and I shut down. Scars that leave no outside mark, but, believe me, they’re here and they’re as real as this computer.
Will I ever be able to function for more than a month without something to shove them down? They’re easier to deal with when I drink, but no less bitter. I’m not drinking now.Scratch that. Do you remember what I told you that night in the boat, the first time James was almost arrested? It’s still true. I have forgiven him, and I’ve forgiven everyone involved. Do you remember the couch incident? How about the time with the gun? How can you love me? Why me? I don’t deserve it, and at times, I wonder if I’d be better off not knowing you. But I do. I know you have forgiven me. I know you have forgiven all the times like these, all the guys, all the drugs, all the hate. I still think about my son that never was, I think about what he could be now. He would have been 7 this year. He and Zoie would be best friends, as well as cousins. I could have raised him right, ya know. I don’t understand why it wasn’t in your plan. I don’t understand how I became a fairweather friend.
All I know for sure right now is that my body can metabolize 4 oz. of ButterShots in an hour. This is where I have to end. Maybe I am crazy.
