This is a very weary place you have me God. Nothing is working out how it would make sense to me; then again you’re God. Your logic will never ever be parallel to mine. That’s why you blessed me with the Holy Spirit. That’s why you keep surging my heart with the foudroyant element of total surrender.
Sometimes it feels like I can’t express how I feel to Naomi* without her ramming the bible down my throat or telling me that I should do this or that. As if I don’t know any of this. As if she’s not supposed to be doing the same things and telling herself as well.
Your perfect son got mad. And threw things so why can’t I; without this sense of whatever emotion that she’s projecting. I’m just over it God. So over it. Then the disappearing thing she does? Is that something she plans on doing with Ezekiel* when they get married? Because it’s so uncool. Communication is big to me. Team talk it out. Team fight it out. Team something’s coming out. No suppression. It’s far more lethal than the injection on death row.
We treat our horizontal relationships how we treat you God. If we suck at communicating in the horizontal then we will suck at communicating to you in the vertical. If we run from problems or change of the unknown in the horizontal we’ll run from you in the vertical and straight into the arms of sin and the world. It’s the fastest way to run from you. I’m getting a front row show now on how it looks.
Jesus didn’t disconnect from you for hours on end; and you also wired us to need the body. Like Naomi* saying she’s never had support or love like me or whatever she said God; like I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that or what to say. But her reaction to it is not communicating for hours on end? That doesn’t make sense and it’s completely frustrating to the point I just want to throw in the towel with people.
The enigma in my yearn to love everyone around me. Yet fight this foudroyant feeling to isolate because the body is a conundrum. I am clearly made in another capacity; so I don’t get the point of this season whatsoever. Maybe you’ll never give me clarity on it. That’s okay. I say yes to you and you’re still Lord.
I don’t believe Naomi fully forgave Ezekiel* otherwise there wouldn’t be so much weariness in her heart. On her face. In her mind, plaguing her. Forgiveness is a clean slate. If Ezekiel* has that, she would not look like she carries a burden I’m not even sure you actually want her to carry. But you’re God and you have that too. I can just keep talking to you about it.
Her telling me to have love and patience for Emma* when Emma* indirectly and slyly attempted to be salty about no one saying anything to her about her birthday just set me off. Emma didn’t ask how I was doing? I’m doing slightly better since my missing brother was found on Monday but he’s back in the hospital again. But thanks for not asking about that. And then Naomi told me I should have been nicer to not snap? Maybe but I’m flawed and that pissed me off.
So Naomi saying what she said made me check out. I don’t know what I taught my kids today. It’s a complete blur. I just pray I wasn’t snippy at them. Naomi* has zero patience for Jojo* like zilch. And it’s to the point where she avoids her; and wants to nitpick my faults and use scripture too? That makes me see red God. I’ve been seeing red lately. Your daughter Naomi has severe perfectionism. Does she know that God? It’s extremely scary.
I pray for these pent up emotions to be released; and not have her fight to polish them enough to take them to you God in prayer. She may not lash out when she’s angry; (God bless her in that discipline because it’s beautiful to witness) or whatever emotion Naomi* is feeling outside of your consistency. She eats her emotions that are not of you Abba through anxiety.
That’s scary too. She had a panic attack and hid it!!! I’m still trying not to be pissed off at that. Makes me think what else is she hiding. It’s been two weeks since Jojo and I exchanged some heated words. But Abba, she had a panic attack when Jojo* and I were in the middle of just going off on each other. Naomi went to a place where only you can handle God: control. We all have this issue, especially me; however, you’re somehow piercing me in stunning surrender. Whether I’m an active participant or not.
You’re taking mighty long to formulate this foudroyant surge of surrender in Harper.* You won’t change this insanity according to me, which is my control; yet he’s still doing him. Big faith. Right? That’s what Naomi keeps saying perfect trust it’ll all work out. Blah. How I feel about that truth moves like the unreliable aggressive wind. It’s a ticking time bomb. It’s disruptive, explosive, and there’s no set expectation on when the atomic kaboom will happen. That’s scary Abba.
Those are how my emotions can be sometimes. No wonder we have to fix our eyes on you. I’m not consistently fixing my eyes on you God. So my perfect balance of floating is being interrupting because I’m looking at Harper’s actions. No wonder I’m struggling to catch my balance. I’m relying on an unpredictable when all I need to do is look up. There’s no need for me to be struggling to catch my balance. I have no business glancing at him. He’s not you Abba.
Naomi is so amazing at having perfect trust for me and I’m able to vividly see it all working out for her. But me and this son of yours? A root canal with no Novocain sounds more realistic. The reality of Harper and myself is a foudroyant feeling of being struck by lightening. I’m on replay of the weary whirlwind that just consumes me.
I refused to write this blog for as long as you allowed me to ride that defiant wave. I guess I had to get into tiffs with both Jojo* and Naomi* to express myself, and they were ironically both defending Harper* when we got into tiffs. Abba, like really?! My best friends too? I can’t have any breaks.
Your foudroyant forcefield of protection for Harper is beautiful and annoys me at the same time. Yes, it annoys me. Completely annoys me. This whole season annoys me. You’re ripping away all my control. What about his? And then… He gets rooters and cheerleaders in my best friends too? Really?
No ones on my side about this being absurd. No one. That’s not fair. It also feels like Naomi is taking on a heavy load you never gave her. I don’t think she even sees what she’s doing. You didn’t allow your son to die for future, present and past mistakes for any of us to avoid making mistakes; especially at the expense of being like an egg shell. An egg that can crack at any second because of how easily breakable it is. Naomi doesn’t see that either does she? That she’s an egg shell. You didn’t save her for that scale to still be around or that stone to not have been rolled away yet.
Does she even understand that I know with conviction that there’s nothing I can do today, tomorrow or twenty thousand hours from now; that can stop you from loving me God. You’re my Abba. My rant today, although it didn’t need to occur; because you do want us to always be Jesus like, it did not phase me. I wasn’t afraid of you not loving me. Or rejecting me. That paralyzing fear is gone. And it’s all because of you Abba. Thank you for the greatest gift ever.
I know you love me. Your perfect son died for me. Me. Screwed up, control freak that’s a complete hothead me. I’m not afraid to be flawed or make any mistakes. I’m making them now. By the multiples and I’m excited. Yes, excited. Because you’re the only one that will and can walk me through them. I love that I’m flawed God because it means I have more opportunities for you to draw nearer to me and chisel away what’s not of you. Like this fight with Harper. I’m weary and fascinated in how you will work this out God. Only you can because you see where I am emotionally as of now.
If Naomi can disappear for hours on end from me who she considers her best friend and barely tells me her raw emotions, (they’re usually polished) what does she do with you God? It terrifies me to think of a possibility she’s not raw with you. It’s like she always feels the necessity to be polished before she comes to you? I used to be like that. It’s exhausting.
Look at how you worked out my determination to cut Jojo out my life that night. It was insane to me that you, yes you God, made my phone stop working when I tried to have her arrested because she wouldn’t get out of my face. There’s no prisoners when I’m irrationally upset. Thank God you saved me.
And that argument happened because Jojo was defending that son of yours. I felt I snapped out of place because it’s a blurred red now. You illuminated it so the color evolved to pink. Like didn’t Harper ignore Jojo in church once? She’s so nice to him. I wish I saw that; I would’ve wanted to do something but you probably would prevent me as you always do Abba.
But you’re breaking me to build me. Thank you for that precious grace. Why is it that I know a horrible rant or horrendous argument is going to be fixed and resolved if the relationship is God-ordained. That goes for planktonic and romantic. Like Jojo* isn’t going anywhere because you don’t want her to. So I tried it that night. Naomi isn’t going anywhere either no matter how many more tiffs need to occur. She can’t avoid disagreeing with me because she doesn’t like it.
Look how well that worked out for me when I was working in the legal world. I never want her or any of your children to go through what I did. They don’t have to, because I did; and I’ll gladly be your example because I love your people so much despite my personal fight with them. It’s an honor to go lower for them.
It’s hard Abba. I have to fight my foudroyant urge to do what I’m seeing: run and destroy by clinging to the world. So many people are doing it. Seems like life is wonderful. Life looks peachy for Harper* I want to look peachy too. They’re delicious and just melt in your mouth. They have a smooth enticing surface that’s very appealing. Peaches have an unlimited about of juice. Juicy juice. I keep telling you that Harper and I have nothing in common or no life experiences that are parallel. Then Horde happened and you made me remember Jared* and his purpose: to write Horde.
That wasn’t enough though. There’s something else we also share: you took my first boyfriend to heaven Abba. I refuse to believe he’s not up there partying with you. Refuse, because he was so amazing and I would be married to him now. I’m so convinced of that. Yes apart of me thinks that he’s the only guy that will ever get me. My high school sweetheart: it was perfect. We did homework together. We played video games together. I used to wear his letter jacket and went to his basketball games. My parents loved him. His family adored me. Especially his dad. Life was amazing. He was my first kiss at 17 years old. I told him I wasn’t comfortable doing that and wanted to wait for marriage and he was okay with that. I think I saw chirping birds. Who’s really okay with that? Such bliss.
I don’t want to write about him right now. It’s too hurtful and I have to remember he’s not here anymore. I refuse to give him a fake name. I can’t. He was that amazing. Then we broke up for a bit but found our way back to each other. He got caught up in the flashy lifestyle because scouters came to watch him play at school. Then he got injured and I was secretly happy because I didn’t want to be an NBA wife. He would’ve gotten drafted because he was that good. And I’m not just saying that. The horror stories of not only being an NBA wife but just being in the league. I wanted our relationship to keep its purity and innocence. And he was okay with that. I never meet anyone like him.
But then he took that job I had a crappy feeling about and you took him away from me God. Why? He loved me and wanted me from day one. Saw the Labrador that I am when I didn’t even see it. He was the first guy to point out that I didn’t have to blend in and shouldn’t; because I was made to stand out. He wanted to go to the NBA to set us up right and I didn’t care about any of that. But you took him away. And that shifted me. I didn’t make the connection until now. I didn’t want to be here on Earth because he wasn’t here.
What do I do now with this revelation? I should be his wife not fighting to trust you in something Harper doesn’t want. I need to be wanted. I need to be needed. My high school sweetheart did that for me. Jared did that for me. But Jared was never mine. My high school sweetheart was. But he’s gone. And now I have all these memories that I clearly buried. I don’t know how to feel now. I don’t know what to do with any of these foudroyant emotions that bolted through my core. It’s so raw and fresh. And all I can do is give it to you because it’s late and I have one more day to teach until my vacation starts. I am hopping to you Abba.
God you’re breaking a lot out of me. And I thank you God that you love me so much; you’re pruning and carving me until I’m where you need me to be. I miss my high school sweetheart. I had to forget him so that I don’t have the why’d you take him away question. It’s not my place to be upset or question you God. All I need to do is love you and trust you. Thank you God for taking me flaws and all and meeting me to evolve me into the butterfly you need. To groom me to be the daughter you built inside my core so that I can be used to illuminate this darken world. I’ll fix my eyes back on you. Give you all of this and go to sleep now.
I love you Abba. Thank you for it all.
This path called life belongs to Jesus Christ.
*Names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy