Just a Passing Storm

I am engaged to the wonderful man that swept me off my feet and into a whirlwind of love. It is a strange sensation looking into the eyes of the man you want to spend the rest of your life with and knowing that he wants to do the same. We actually practice meditating together while gazing into the other’s eyes. Sometimes I feel as though I am falling in so deep that I am inside of him.

Yet…I am still struggling to be intimate. Well, intimate in the sense of physicality. When we first started dating we agreed that we wouldn’t lose ourselves to urges of passion until we were united in the covenant well known as marriage. For some reason, the fact that we are now engaged is weighing down on my feelings of inability to be physical. I am worried that I will not be able to be intimate…or maybe I am afraid of being able to.

It really doesn’t make sense to me. I just…blah. Perhaps that is not the real problem at all: just a convenient excuse.

The much more reasonable answer is the overwhelming feeling of uselessness I have been experiencing. Ever since my injury and loss of my career as an EMT Firefighter I have felt this weight on me. Not so long ago I received an e-mail reminding me to re-certify my EMT license. I can’t however. You have to be currently working or having been working within the past 6 months with special circumstances.

I don’t know why that frustrates me so badly. I knew that my career as an EMT and especially a Firefighter was over. I just am having trouble coping with that. Add on that my injury has been acting up causing me intense pain and brutally reminding me that my choices at what I can do for the rest of my life are severely limited.

I feel useless. I can’t do anything. I am trying to be happily engaged and simply plan my wedding. How can I though when the mounting cost of a wedding is burring me and I can’t do anything to help out. And I repeat, I feel useless.

But I know I can’t give up. I know there is a purpose: a reason. I have to rely upon my Ish and YHVH to pull me through. I know this is just a passing storm- I will come through stronger and better for withstanding it.

Advertisements

Dreams Lost

It is a strange sensation to realize you don’t really recognize yourself anymore. To wake up, look in a mirror, and wonder what happened to the person that you thought you were. I’m not sure whether it is a good or a bad thing that I have changed: perhaps time will tell.

The fires of passion are fickle little beasts that can consume you whole and then leave you dry. One day you are willing to stand in front of a speeding semi if it would help your cause and slowly, without noticing the change, you simply don’t care anymore. I don’t want to give the impression that hope is dying; the exact same thing happens in reverse. Simple little things that I never ever cared about before, I am now giving lectures on to anyone willing to listen.

So, is this shifting of dreams just the normal path of life, or am I missing something crucial? Has something happened without me noticing that now has me spinning out of control? Is there a force in action that I need to be battling to stop these changes, or can I simply ride it out and see where I end up? Perhaps I am just questioning myself because I question everything in life.

My birthday just passed and I am even further into needing to be an adult. Yet, try as I might, everything I thought I had figured out has crumbled away. Everything I thought I wanted to do with my life is gone- slowly stripped away by broken dreams and harsh reality.

On the other hand, I have met the love of my life. He completes me entirely. My love and trust in him has brought me further away from home than I have ever been; and although positive, has completely changed my life. Life in the city is simply different than living in the mountains: not saying better or worse, simply different. However, I wouldn’t trade living in the familiar for the love that I have now. A couple more weeks will mark one year with the man who proved that I do have a soul mate. And as happy as I am being with him I can’t help but feel like something is missing.

A purpose. That is what is missing from my life. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Well, I know that I want to be a wife and a mom and have an amazing home, but until then is missing. I feel like I should be doing something meaningful and helping people. Perhaps that is the influence of growing up being told that you are special, but deep down inside of me I feel that it is true. That I can make a difference. That I can do something. That something somewhere is calling out to me and waiting for me to respond. I keep waiting for the synapses in my brain to connect the dots and provide me an answer, but for now I come up blank.

I know this longing is magnified by my rocky relationship with YHVH. I don’t even feel right calling Him Papa right now with how I have been treating our relationship. I know that needs to be fixed before anything else will make sense. I know that imbalance gravitates outwards and affects everything else. I just don’t know how to fix something when I can’t identify where it is broken. Or maybe that better description would be that it is broken in so many places I don’t know where to start building from again.

Hopefully the next time I write I will have found one of those cracks and filled it in causing the ripple to reverse and bring a little clarity.

Finding Love Part 1

Love, we all look for it and seek to define it. I want to know how my Papa defines it. What is love according to YHVH.

According to Interlinear Scripture Analyzer, the word love appears three hundred and eleven times in two hundred and eighty one verses. It first appears in Genesis 27:4 when Issac is talking about meat. Now if Issac was the first person to have a documented account of using the word love, that would imply that neither Adam and Abraham used the word. While that is much easier to believe with Adam, since he so easily turned on his Isha; I needed to go back to be sure.

The closest thing to love Adam showed Chavah was in Genesis 2:23 when he says “This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Isha because she was taken out of Ish. For this reason man shall leave his father and mother, and be joined to his wife; and they will become one flesh (echad).”

Now, for some reason ready this piece of history and then how he so easily turns saying “the woman whom you gave to be with me.” He never appeared to truly treasure her. Here YHVH fashioned an Isha, the perfect help mate, something so precious and Adam didn’t cherish her. It kind of upsets me, but at the same time it makes me step back and wonder what YHVH has done for me that I haven’t cherished or taken as precious like I should.

Reading through Abraham and Sarah’s story again I was struck by a hard thought. When they enter Egypt Abram asks Sari to say that she is he sister, because he knows that they will see that she is beautiful and want to take her for themselves. She trusts in Abram so much that she agrees to say that she is his sister knowing that it would place her in a potential “danger”. Even when she is taken to the Pharaoh’s courts, she continues to trust in Abram’s judgment.

I honestly don’t think that at the point I am at in my life I would be able to obey my Ish so completely without question and have such unwavering trust in him. I know this, because there is a piece of me that still struggles to trust in Yashua and He has never changed. So, if I have difficulty trusting someone that is the embodiment of trustworthy, how can I trust someone who I know will be tested? So, if I can admit to myself that I don’t yet contain the capability to follow my Ish when he asks me to trust him, why in the world would I expect Papa to bring him into my life.

I can see piece by piece how much more I must focus and work on myself if I want to be anything more than a burden to the one that I was made for. I know that I have the ability to trust inside of me, that I will heal that I am a new creation and that all things are possible through Him who strengthens me. But, just because I know it intellectually does not force the change to happen instantly. Through prayer and perseverance though, I shall become the beacon of light I am made to be.

For those that seek shall find and to those who knock it is opened and those who ask receive. So, I will ask, knock and seek until I am the person I know that I can be. Until I can stand unwavering next to my Ish, because I can trust in him, because I trust fully in Yashua and know that He will be guiding both of us.

 

I find it just a little funny that as I search for the answers to what love is I am uncovering who I am and realizing who I want to be. Papa, hear me now and hear my heart’s cry. I want to be perfected. I need to undergo the transformation that will bring me to the higher calling I know you have set aside for me. I am yours Papa. Where I ran before and sought my own way, I am ready to listen and follow you unwavering.

 

Crashing and Burning and Coming Back with Flames

“Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28

Recently, I have been sick; nothing serious, but a constant dragging that adds to the endless feeling of being tired. I finally heard my Papa calling to me: “Do I have to make you sick for you to rest.” So, I spent an entire day in bed “resting” and thinking that would make everything better. However, I was missing the big point; I was missing the type of rest I was supposed to be receiving. I just continued to grow more tired and the more tired I became the easier it became for the enemy to prey upon me.

I had allowed myself to grow completely blind to the stronghold the enemy was building on me. I was growing angry- really angry. I was angry at men, all men. I got so low I was ready to give up on love. Give up on ever finding anyone that would be everything I was looking for. I was so down I threw myself a nice big hate filled pity party. I kept thinking back to all the men who had done me wrong and all the pressure and chaos that was in the world.

I wanted to explode with all of the emotions raging inside of me. And then Matthew 11:28 rang through my ears and Papa calling out to me and asking me to rest. It wasn’t the physical rest that I needed (though I had been lacking that too), I needed to run to the one man that had proven himself trustworthy time after time; the only man that had never hurt me and only ever loved with a love so powerful it is hard to comprehend.

I had already been feeling the push to truly reveal what love was according to YHVH. This was just more of a reason to find the answers. I had been using the idea of “love” to beat myself up and ride myself to basically a breaking point. The spiritually conscious part of my brain knew that this wasn’t real love in the slightest.

After deciding to do this study, redefine myself to be focused solely on YHVH and Yashua, to light myself on fire for YHVH more than ever before, something hit me. That while I had been angry and moping about my Ish not being here and wondering where he is and what he is doing. That entire time how much was I dulling him? How much harder was I making it for him to stand? How long did he struggle while I was letting my flesh control me? The very thought sickened me. I made a decision then and there that I would do everything in my power to be the very best Son I could be so that I would not burden my Ish, but instead be the suitable helper to lift him up and empower him like I am supposed to.

So my quest for both of these starts with this study. Starts with finding out everything I can about YHVH’s love and how I can embody that love to share with those I encounter. So here goes. Here is to setting my soul on fire, for finding my voice once again, to becoming wholly YHVH’s with a heart for Yashua.

Being Sick

Being sick has to be one of the worst feelings. Your body revolts on itself in an attempt to self destruct. Now, I had a very healthy run and cannot remember being truly sick for several years. So, it was a complete and utter sucker punch when I became sick yesterday.

I had just completed a twelve hour shift in the emergency room and finally parked in my driveway at 7am. I wasn’t able to convince my body to sleep until 10am. At 2pm, I woke up crying in agonizing pain. My stomach felt like my kidneys, liver, and intestines were reenacting world war two. No matter how I tossed and turned I could not find a position that would alleviate the pain. It was the worse pain I had experienced since right before my last surgery when my stomach was literally folding on top of itself.

So, I called my best friend and asked for her to pray with me. I convinced myself that the pain I would feel getting up for Tylenol would pay off (which I later learned was a lie), and swallowed two extra strength tablets. I promptly crawled back into bed and tossed and turned for another hour. There was someone at my door and I had to find to will power to crawl out of bed.

It was my best friend with a care package of Gatorade, Powerade, chicken soup (homemade), rice, crackers, and a baggie of Tylenol and IBProfein. I hugged her, thanked her, cried, and walked her back out to the door.

Pouring myself a glass of Gatorade, the yummy fruit punch one, I crawled back into bed and snuggled into the blankets. The next twenty three hours were spent in agony. Praying, quoting scripture, and singing myself my favorite Hebrew lullaby, were the only things that kept me from a complete and total breakdown.

It took several moments of convincing and self preparation in order to simply turn on my side and bring the cup of Gatorade to my lips. The trips to the bathroom felt as though they would kill me and the only thing that forced me out of bed was the knowledge that simply going in the bed was not an option.

Somewhere a little after midnight on a trip to the bathroom, I checked my temperature: it was 101.4. I rejoiced at that fact. I was elated to know that my body was fighting back and there was hope that I would burn the virus off.

Many hours were spent in desperation seeking a position that would alleviate the pain to my stomach, kidneys, sides, back, head, and to keep my body between freezing and boiling.

I came to complete consciousness around 12:40pm. The pain had subsided, and when I checked the fever had broken. I promptly ate two bowls of chicken soup with rice- it had been thirty hours since I had last eaten. As much as eating boosted my energy, I felt disgusting with the layers of dried sweat from maintaining a fever for most of the night.

After taking a shower and putting on clean clothes, I finally felt like a human again. I thanked my Papa for pulling me through it, for keeping me focused through it, and for the loving friend He had graced me with.

I came over to visit with my friend now that I was feeling better. I am still a little nauseas with a slight pang in my kidneys still and I don’t feel completely here (probably because I was baking my brain last night), but I am definitely a lot better and everything in manageable.

Looking back I think it is kind of good to experience real pain every once in a while. It has definitely renewed my compassion for my patients that come through the ER. But it also did something more than that, because even as I was moaning and wailing with tears streaming down my face, I could feel my Papa with me, holding my in His hand and whispering to me that everything was going to be okay and that I could pull through this and every time I started to struggle with a verse or my song He would whisper the right words in my ear.

It was an amazing feeling to know that even when no one else in the world was there with me, my Papa was there. That my God is great enough that He knows the second I get sick and He picks me up and carries me through it. I am so thankful and feel so entirely loved. So, I guess being sick doesn’t have to be so bad after all.

Genesis Reflection One

I started re-reading my bible today from the very beginning. At first I was just reading through knowing that out of all the books Genesis is the one I know best. But then I slowed down and started over and really focused on the words and everything I had studied on it before and it was beautiful.

The love story portrayed in those first few verses is simply priceless. YHVH takes this ugly, void, chaotic mass and sees something precious in it. So, He extends Himself over it and pushes His light into it. Before YHVH puts His Spirit on the mass it is complete darkness, but afterwards the darkness can be separated from the light. So, there is still darkness, but now there is light to see, feel, cherish, and take hold of.

YHVH doesn’t stop there, He also molds and shapes the mass constantly separating and binding up. After each thing He does He blesses the mass.

Then the truly marvelous part, He turns an ugly chaotic void into an Isha by giving her the power to create life. By giving her the ability to bear seed, He is accomplishing something remarkably beautiful.

Yashua will mirror this same scenario. He comes into a dark, desperate, dying, unrighteous world; yet, he still accepts it as his bride. He teaches and grooms showing how to grab hold of the light and depart from darkness. He reforms as he heals the sick, dying, and dead. Finally, he gives his life so that his bride can have life again by taking hold of his life.

To me the comparison really stands out, but I am struggling to put the concept into words. It’s just something that when it hits you it is wow. It made me step back and realize that I once was ugly, void of life, emotion, happiness, love, and chaotic. However, YHVH saw through as dark as my life was and saw something in me that no one else not even I could see. He wrapped Himself around me and introduced light into my life. Then piece by piece he remolded me by loosening all that was unrighteous and unholy and binding love, faith, and obedience. He placed a light in me that I can share through love to bring life into the world- a light so precious and worth more than any jewel. With that He is constantly blessing me and building me up even when I start to look ugly again, He brushed me up, pushes in deeper, and brings my light back full force.

I am an Isha, because my Papa, YHVH, has made me one. I am a bearer of life. I must keep that in the forefront of my mind, because if my light becomes dim it not only harms me, but everyone who then can’t see my light which is my Papa’s love in me.

Creating a Proclimation

Here I am in a new year and wondering how I got here.

I am become more and more aware that I am an adult. That I have a job, bills, and that if I’m not looking out for myself, I am the only one to blame. It seems odd to finally have that feeling of: wow, this is what life is like; while at the same time still feeling just a bit like a kid. I have been struggling a growing through a few things.

I am learning that there is a lot to learn about my body. Over the past few months I have begun to change my diet to eat healthier foods and cut out the junk that I don’t really need. It came as a shock to me to find out that I had taken healthy eating too far and that I actually needed to eat more calories than I was taking in on a regular basis and that I needed even more since I have begun to exercise regularly.

See, my goal is not to lose weight in any of this. In fact, I am very happy with where I am at physically even though the actual number confuses me. My goal is to be able to keep up with the boys in the fire station and to be able to be at 100% throughout my entire twelve hour shift at the hospital. Right now, my endurance and strength just aren’t up to par. On top of all of that, I am still healing from previous injuries to my back, hip, and knee.

My plan of action included integrating yoga into my life on a regular basis. I have actually fallen in love with yoga, and if I haven’t done my yoga for the day I have a longing for it. I did a short session this morning and plan on completing another routine before bed.

The other part of my plan was starting some sort of high impact physical exercise. At first I was kickboxing and now I am doing Jillian Micheals 30-day shred. And if the pain I am feeling now is any indication, by the time I am done with the work out I should be much stronger.

Despite all of this: the eating healthy, exercising, and taking care of me: I still feel…lacking? I’m not sure what the proper word choice should be. I know that I will dress up really nice and proclaim that I am beautiful, because if I’m not the one saying it then no one else will. It kind of wears on you when no one takes a moment to point out that they think you are beautiful, that you were fearfully and wonderfully made. Instead of doing what some of my friends do and say that I am ugly fishing for a compliment; I will walk into the room with a smile, do a little runway strut, spin 360, and compliment myself.  Sometimes I think it annoys my friends, but I have to keep proclaiming that I am truly beautiful if I am going to make myself believe it.

In the bottom of my heart I know that Papa thinks I am so incredibly beautiful and that He believes I am gorgeous even on my very worst day. But, for me to actually truly believe after so many people telling me that I am not is an uphill battle every day and it is only through the strength YHVH gives me that I am able to look in the mirror and be proud of who I see.

On that note, however, I have let my relationship with my Papa slide. Perhaps that is way the little battles day to day are becoming harder for me. I pray every day, but I have made it routine. Something I do out of habit rather than an intimate relationship with my counterpart. I had myself convinced that reading a chapter of my bible every now and then was sufficient because I was busy.

I am standing up to myself now to say “NO!” that is not okay. How dare I proclaim to people that I am a Son of YHVH and believe in His word as the absolute truth when I haven’t read every book there is, let alone every word.

I am going to start from the beginning and read through. I will share questions and experiences with you as I do. I’ll share everything I can. Through reading I will also refocus myself.

I will rekindle the fire that burns within me that is so in love with YHVH. I will have an even more intimate relationship with my Papa than I have ever had before. I will be a Son approved and an Isha to be cherished. I will be the bride ready and waiting for Yashua’s return.

Creating Understanding of My Heart?

I am a saboteur, or a sabotage artist, of my own life: more specifically, my love life.

Whenever I find myself beginning to feel attracted to someone, no matter how small the attraction, I begin searching for reasons why that person would never work with me. The first and easiest reason is spiritual beliefs- if we don’t share similar beliefs then there really is no hope for a future together.

After that I move on to a wide variety of other reasons. Does he smoke? Does he cuss? Is he a liar? How does he feel about sex and intimacy? What are his friends like? What are his plans for his life? Is he a serial dater? Does he drink or use drugs? The list goes on.

I keep my eyes wide open for the first sign that it wouldn’t work. Doing so has very effectively kept me from becoming seriously interested in anyone. Sure, every once in awhile there is a person I like being around, but I’ll always have that flaw in my head, so, I am safe from developing any real feelings. It will never go past being friends. It’s a method, no matter how messed up, that always works.

Or at least, used to always work.

I am now finding myself becoming attracted to a guy I really don’t want to be attracted too and I can’t find anything wrong with him. It is scary and foreign, and happening way to fast. Why can’t I find a flaw? Why can’t my defenses be activated? Why am I letting him wriggle his way right to my heart without putting in any real effort?

I just wish he would stop saying things that make me want to open myself up completely to him. I don’t want to be hurt, but how do I protect myself when my emotions will not listen to me.

How is it even possible? Love doesn’t happen in an instant. It doesn’t hit you like a speeding train. You fall slowly in love with someone. Right? I don’t believe in first sight, that is simply lust…but then why since the moment I heard his voice all I want to do is talk to him, learn who he is, and investigate every inch of his inner being.

Listening to him explain something gives me this warm peaceful feeling. It isn’t like those crazy butterflies from high school; it is calm and nice, and definitely doesn’t make you want to throw up. It is kind of like your soul is being caressed in a soothing manner, as if someone was playing with your hair. And that my friends, is a very scary sensation.

I don’t know how it happened. I honestly can’t figure it out at all. It should be completely and utterly impossible to have these raging emotions after only a week. It can’t be real, can it? I don’t want to like him, because to like him this fast would be crazy. Maybe that is the answer: I am completely and utterly insane. There we go a logical answer. I mean I don’t even know him, so there is no possible way I could truly like him.

Yet…all the little parts of him that I have seen so far, I like a lot. Each time he reveals another little piece of himself I find that I like it a lot. Is that what falling in love is? Loving every little part of the person as they reveal it to you?

The thought that he wasn’t at all attracted to me reduced to a sobbing mess running to my best friend needing some form of advice to pull myself together.

And then just like that, he had me hooked again. I am fully aware that this could hurt, that in all honesty it could crush some small part of me, perhaps it could even make it near impossible to believe in romance for a long time. However, knowing all of this, I can’t stop myself. I have tried and tried again to reason myself out of these emotions, but no matter what I do my heart refuses to listen.

I don’t want to be falling in love with someone I barely know, I don’t want to be left heartbroken, I don’t want to lose control of my emotions, I don’t want to fall any deeper into these emotions, I don’t want it at all. Yet, as unreasonable, unimaginable, as all of this is, I simply cannot convince myself to stop.

So here is to jumping blindly into a body of water and not knowing if it is deep or shallow: if it will leave me paralyzed and in agony, or the ever small chance that it is deep and will be the greatest and most beautiful dive anyone has ever made before.

Creating Growth, Confusion, and Longing

So many thoughts running through my head, I’m not sure how to even begin to sort them all out.

The end of last month I threw myself a pity party. It was big and it was pathetic. I wallowed in feeling sorry for myself over basically nothing. Thankfully it only lasted a few days before I heard a few harsh words I needed to hear and I slapped myself together. Trying to remember now…I have absolutely no idea why I was even feeling sorry for myself. I write this now as a reminder to myself not to allow any part of my mind to wander back to any of those thoughts.

After I pulled myself together, I enjoyed graduating my new member academy at the firehouse and conquering my first twenty four hour shift. I also dominated an interview for an emergency department tech position and was offered a job; I go over the details tomorrow. With that I was able to put in my notice at my current job.

I think leaving my current job is going to be an enormous positive influence in my life. Though I truly believe I am a stronger person now for enduring the time I spent there. Who knew working at a pizza place would be so hard. From the teasing and sexual comments to the constant ridicule about my beliefs and the way I live my life, to the continuous harassing about how pure and innocent I was as if it was a bad thing.

Since when is the word “virgin” used as an insult? Or more importantly, why? I choose to live a biblical life. Because of that, I don’t eat certain foods, I don’t cuss, I don’t participate in dirty jokes, and I don’t mess around with boys. Why is all of that seen as a bad thing?

What has happened to our society that I have been told by different people that my flaws include being “too pure” and “too nice”? Why in the world is purity and kindness frowned upon? I wonder if it is just a scary thought for those that aren’t. The people that want everyone to play in the dirt with them so they don’t feel so dirty. I think that is kind of pathetic.

Why is it that people are so quick to judge, label, and wish to change or destroy?

For instance, today, for the first time ever, I started talking to a friend of one of my friends. Out of nowhere I am starting to be interrogated by that person’s ex simply because I was having a conversation with someone. I am still trying to piece together what made them jump to the conclusion that something was going on between me and a person I had barely known for three hours. Is that how to world normally works? Am I just working on some other weird level and I’m the one out of the loop? If so, keep me out of the loop. I don’t want to partake of that kind of world.

I’d prefer stay on the outside if the inside is that ugly. However, I am learning I cannot do that with all the aspects of my life. It is still my responsibility to love and to show kindness and mercy even to those that have hurt me- especially to those that have hurt me. So, I am learning how to smile even as I see the knife coming to stab me again.

I admit it is hard and my flesh wants to fight it the whole way…but my heart knows it is the right thing to do and therefore it is what I will do. I will love and show kindness, even if it means being hurt again. I will do so, because I know that is what my love desires of me and he paid such a higher price for me than I could ever even imagine partaking.

p.s. Oh Ish, I know not where you are. Until you find me I lean upon Yashua and look to him for guidance. I am doing my best to stand strong and firm and wait patiently for you. I could wait until the end of my days, because I know that even if I don’t see you here on this earth I will be with you in the kingdom. However, I wish dearly to be with you. For you to hold me in your arms, play with my hair, and whisper YHVH’s words to me to build me up. For you to be here to encourage me in my growth and help pull me through the trails. I wish to fall deeper and deeper in love with you each and every day. I wish to have a family with you and make a home. Oh how I wish for you to find me. Until then I am loving you and preparing myself for you.

Creating a Memorial

Earlier today I received a phone call from my mom, who let me know that one of my childhood friends had been killed in Afghanistan. At first I just took it and didn’t really feel anything. It was like I didn’t really process it. I went about finding the article that documented the event and looking up family to give my condolences, but it still hadn’t hit me yet.

It wasn’t a couple hours later that it really hit me and I began to break down. I couldn’t believe that Tofu was gone. This is the first time I have lost anyone that wasn’t significantly older than me. Kids shouldn’t die, old people die and even that is hard enough to deal with.

Then as I began to break down I felt like I didn’t deserve to be upset over his death, because we hadn’t be in touch in years. I struggled with that for a while before I realized that it didn’t matter, that he had a significant impact on my life and that was enough to mourn his death.

Tofu and his sister were my first friends when I moved into this state. We lived near each other and would hang out and play all the time. First they moved, but we still went to the same high school, and then I switched high schools for my senior year and we drifted apart. But those years that we basically spent every single day together really had an impact on me.

Throughout the day I have danced between crying uncontrollably, feeling numb and nauseas, and attempting desperately to keep control. Then about half an hour ago I had a sense of peace wash over me along with a memory.

We had wanted to make a club house. So, we got permission to clean out this one shed and make it ours. So we moved everything out, which was a long hard task, and decided we wanted to paint it to our liking. We spent hours attempting to make the walls look like trees. I am not sure how it started, but I know it was either Tofu or my cousin that did start it, suddenly out of nowhere paint is flying through the air. It didn’t take long for it to turn into an all out paint war. In the end the room was destroyed, we and my dog were covered in paint, my cousin was injured, and we were all soundly beat and punished. However, when I remember it now, all I really remember is how much fun we had together.

I think that is my favorite memory of Tofu and I will treasure it and remember how we were then. If I remember that Tofu, then I know he wouldn’t want me to be crying over him, he would want me to be remembering the good times we had and laughing at all the idiotic things that we did.

So, I am going to curl up with my cherry Garcia ice cream and hot cocoa and watch some food network happy to know that Tofu’s memory will live on and be remembered as a happy one. And I know from the pit of my being the only reason I am able to do so is because YHVH lives inside me and comforts me when I am weak.

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries

Simple Statistics

  • 553 Readers