Trying to Take Back Christmas: Grieving and Changing Traditions (Another U-Turn)

Every year when Christmas rolls around, it's like I'm on a zipline that's about to go off the cliff. I'm deathly afraid of heights, so it's not something I would do willingly. But that's just it, Christmas comes every year and every year I face the traumas around my daughter's death one week before Christmas. So here I am, strapped to this zipline at the top of the cliff and Time pushes me off and all I can do is close my eyes, hang on with all my might, and wait for it to be over. And just like every year, when it is over, I open my eyes to a mess of Christmas decorations that I get to tear down with all the bitterness of my heart. 

Believe it or not, Christmas used to be my favorite. I couldn't wait for Christmas to come. I decked my halls with a lot more than holly! Red and green colors would burst from every corner of the house. But the grieving journey has other plans for me. For whatever cosmic reason, I decided to change my color scheme that year to blue and white. The Christmas tree hung tons of blue and white balls and it was beautiful. It was one week before Christmas, we were at my mom's house putting together Christmas baskets with goodies. My daughter Sarah died during her nap in my mom's room that afternoon. After we got back from the hospital, without her, I spent the whole week in that very room, breathing in what was left of her spirit. The day after Christmas, we finally came home for the first time. Sarah's nickname was "blueberry" because of the blue hemangioma on her nose and our tree with all it's blue balled ornaments, looked like a blueberry bush. At that moment, I saw it as this beautiful message that "Sarah was still among us for Christmas." That was my beautiful reminder. For years, I would put all those blue ornaments on the tree, faithfully bringing her message back to us. It was comforting. 

But then something switched in me. I got really sick and extra sensitive to everything around me. I stopped celebrating her birthday the way I normal would. All the things I did over the years to help me cope with Sarah's absence were now incredibly hurtful. I had needed those things during those years, and now I didn't. I needed something else now. I'm still sorting through certain triggers around Christmas, but a big one this year were those damn blue ball ornaments on my tree that no longer made me feel her, they made me feel her absence all the more. They took me back to that awful day when we came home for the very first time with empty empty arms. Those balls reminded me now of my emptiness, that hole that no God can ever fill until I see her again. 

So after talking with my wonderful therapist, I decided to not only take them off of my tree, but to destroy them. Just me and my husband set out to destroy this awful trigger. I stood at the tree and bagged up all the blue balled ornaments of that awful day and started towards the back door. But I was stopped by my 12 year old son Isaiah. The only child that was actually here when we lost her.

"What are you doing with those?" He asked me, staring me down. 

"I'm taking them down and getting rid of them this year." I tried to be delicate with my voice. 

"No! No! No! Put them back! Put them back!" tears were welling up in his eyes. The desperateness in his voice broke my heart and I started crying with him.

I didn't even think about his feelings with these.  "I'm sorry sweetie, but I have to do this. They are too painful to keep. This is something I have to do." 

"Put them back, please, put them back!" He just kept repeating it through his tears. After that I took him to a private place so we could talk and it was decided, after both of us bawling, that we would put a mini tree up in his room and he can keep one single ball from the bag. As a mother who understands that he has his own unique journey of grief, I had to compromise in this.  

So with my heart now torn to shreds, I went to the garage with my husband who had a tarp down and ready and we smashed the shit out of those ornaments. They were not easy to break either, because they were plastic. Especially the ones that we more solid plastic. It made us angry that they weren't glass that would break easily. But that's just it, isn't it? It's not easy removing triggers from your life. I can smash these ornaments, but the traumatic memories they triggered will always be there. I felt like this was our ceremony of trying to "take back Christmas." This time of year will always be hard, but I want to love Christmas again. I can't promise that this will do it, but it will definitely help. And it's already easier to breathe without staring at those ornaments all day, every day. 

My encouragement to you, if you struggle with grief this holiday season, is don't let traditions prevail if they start hurting you. My husband even added, "Well, it's like we always kept putting those ornaments up for tradition so we don't offend ourselves." Allow things to change as you change. It's okay to give yourself permission to do so. Life changes us so much as we continue to grow and experience new things, new trials, and new victories. Let these traditions change with you as you need them to, in order to cope the only way you know how. 

~Love yourself enough to prove it. 

Mastery: Letting go of being free of your struggles

In a crazy cycle recently, (where my depression spirals because I rarely feel well, making me crumple in a fetal position, crying, wanting my life to be over because I feel so worthless) I came to a certain resolve. I wanted to be free. Free of the depression, free of the stress, of the health issues. I would plead to God to take it away, but still I struggled... every day... trying to find the reason why I want keep fighting, even though I don't feel well.

Can we ever really be free? Free of illness? Chronic illness? Free of mental issues? Depression? Anxiety? Anger? Debilitating conditions?

Scriptures say “we are free.” What the hell does that even mean? I mean, let’s talk spiritually speaking here. We are stuck in this world, this fallen world. Jesus came and said the words Himself, “if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” But in context, He was talking about sin though. We are free from the bondage of our own sin. (note to self: that doesn't mean the sin against us from others and obviously, this didn't stop the consequences of the physical fallen world, since we still get sick and die, BUT...) We are made spiritually new. (And when we rise, we will be made physically new) We will be found clean in the face of God when we meet Him, because of the freedom we have received from the Son. Does this give me hope? Yes.

But, but, but…..

What about today? What about now? I don’t mean to sound impatient, but not only have I been dealing with this illness, this depression for so long now but…. Where is the respite? I believe in miracles, but after watching Dad die of cancer, I learned that miracles come in different forms and not always the way you want them to happen.

I went through a serious bout of more depression recently that circled around that fact that I may never be free of this illness, this depression, this fatigue cycle. Once again, God was just a figure standing there with His back turned away from me. “Not this one. Not this time” was what I kept hearing in response for my pleading with God to release me from this struggle. I didn't understand why. I still don’t understand why. But something had to give. I wanted to give up but that’s where it got complicated. Can’t give up something that is in you, something that you are dealt, something that you've lost. Giving up was impossible, unless I was willing to kill myself. Sure. I thought about it. I thought about releasing my husband from a sick wife, releasing my kids from a sick mother. But then… I’m too much of a pansy and well… my babies are… babies. I couldn't even think about doing that to them. It was devastating losing my dad at 16, I didn't want to put them through something like that. No. I wanted to live… But I want to LIVE. Like really live, like tear up the yard because all my plans are ridiculous and so…. *Kailan*. Like paint and decorate weird things on my walls for company to find as they creep through our house. Like not only school the kids in just the basics of education, but really take them out and let them experience things to the fullest. Like actually play with them again. You know? LIVE!

But if I can’t be free…..where’s my hope in that? Sure, I may get better some day. I may not. But what I do know is that “today” I must.

I started reflecting on something then. God told Cain that he must master his anger. (I use this lesson a lot in parenting) Was Cain wrong to be angry about Abel’s offerings? (because Abel gave better than Cain) No. But he was angry at the wrong person. His anger was a trigger, given by God, something beautiful. But his first mistake was getting mad at the wrong person, second mistake was he didn't heed God’s advice. Third mistake…. He went ahead and killed Abel in his anger, permanently silencing him and permanently stirring his own demise…. All because he couldn't- wouldn't master it.

I found myself realizing that if I wasn't going to be free of depression, and maybe even this sickness, then I must learn to master it, before it kills me.

So the research went into hyper-drive. The first things Jesus did was help the physical. I needed to be my own Jesus. (is that sacrilege to say?) I needed to help myself physically. Things like getting my ass back into the doctors office and not giving up on that part of things. Eating healthier, drinking more water, and taking my vitamins. I don’t have a second head that’s going to do all this for me. (well... it seems I do have a second head, but she isn't very helpful) I have to stand up for myself and master as much as I can for my body’s sake. I’m still figuring all this out.

Then the emotional/mental; counseling and talking with intimate friends, people I trust. Letting them in. Doing things that fill me up. I’m an introvert, so my things are reading, writing, making music and art. An extrovert may want to get out and run with a bunch of people… (oh wait… my husband does that.) A big one here is forgiving my bad days and embracing my good ones. I’m still figuring all this out.

Then the spiritual: I’m on shaky grounds here. I question everything I knew. Sometimes I struggle in vain…. Heh… most times I do. I try to keep my head about me, but then lose it. I get mad at people when they start talking spiritual to me about my health issues. “You’re going through this for a reason.” (makes me feel like a puppet on a string) “God will never give you anything you can’t handle” (right. And that’s why Christians kill themselves…. Or are killed. And actually, that line is often misquoted, so boom.) “Can’t you just shake it off and keep moving?” (shake it off… without breaking out in song, I ****ing wish I could shake it off and move the body that has it’s own agenda…. Ah! Dang it. Now that dang song is struck in my head) But in all seriousness, I'm letting myself wrestle with my faith. I love God. He is awesome. I just don't always "feel" His awesomeness. And maybe that's ok?  I’m still figuring all this out.

I've made up my mind though. I’m going to master this.

I watched the movie “The Gabby Douglas Story” recently. (awesome movie on Netflix, btw) and as I watched this sweet girl’s young life unfold, I saw the struggle, the passion, the desperation, and the hope. I saw this extraordinary family come together around this girl with extraordinary talent, but ultimately, it was up to her to find her teacher, do the work, fall and rise, and master her skills. She killed it at the Olympics, by the way.

There’s going to be a lot of days when I fail, but this is my trying. Mastering this doesn't even mean that “all will be well”, it just means that I have a plan to discipline myself. On my good days, I’m going to play and laugh, get stuff done, make my weird "kailan" creations. On my bad days, I’m going to cry, not eat when I don’t want to, slow down, forgive myself, cuddle a lot (since that’s the main thing I’m able to still be good at) and go to bed early. Mastering this means I’m going to stop telling myself that I’m not worth it. Or that I’m not a good wife and that he could do better/ have better. Mastering this means I’m going to change that self-talk. I am valuable to Him. I am talented. I am really really good at cuddling no matter what state I’m in. I have a husband, my support system, who goes to the moon and back for me because he thinks I’m worth it. I have friends that love me and all my quirks.

Any time I want to simply be free of my depression and illness, I just get more depressed.

That only leaves me one logical living choice. I must master it.

And so far…. I’m starting to have real hope.

Oh The Thinks We Can Think: Heed, Allow, or Die.

When I was a teenager, there was this really bad snow storm. I was new to the driving world at the ripe age of 16. I had my 14 year old brothers in the car with me too. Everyone who knows me knows that I’m a timid driver. As a public service, I actually stay off the roads when it snows. However, this particular day, I had no choice. School wouldn’t cancel. I drove slowly that morning and got there safely. As the day progressed the storm got worse and schools finally started letting students out early. “Beautiful” I thought, “How caring of them to let us go home during the worst part of the storm!”

There is a main road just outside of the school. The speed limit was 55 but I went as slow as I desired. I couldn’t see all that well either with the wind blowing so hard. The stop light up ahead was shining red with a couple cars in front of me, so I started braking to slow down to a stop.

My car didn’t stop. I think it went faster. Within seconds, my eyes wide, I approached the car in front of me.

I slammed into that SUV with my little Dodge Shadow and the air bag slapped my cold face. I could taste that awful dust that was flying through the air as I tried to regain composure. I wanted to cry, but I looked at my scared brothers to see if they were ok so I tried to stay calm. I think I remember us arguing a little about what just happened.

A teacher jumped out of that SUV. “Oh great!” I thought. “I hit a teacher!”

As she marched over to me, I could see from behind me the cop car from the school security pulling over. Through the rear view mirror, I watched him step out of his car, slam the door shut, and slip on the ice. He held on to his car for support. That actually made me feel better. I wasn’t alone in the turmoils of this storm.

I finally got out of the car, carefully of course. There was still traffic trying to navigate it’s way through the intersection. We all stood on the other side of our cars, away from the road, while I retold my story about what happened. I was in shock as I looked at my car that was clearly totaled. 

Within minutes there was another car that started skidding on the ice towards the stop light. I remember seeing the driver who was this elderly lady with this desperate look on her face. At this point, my hearing went deaf and everything seemed to go in slow motion. I remember watching her try to regain control of her vehicle when a semi-truck started coming in from behind her. You could tell he was trying to slow down, trying not to hit her. As he tried to slow, he started to skid, bringing the back end cargo sliding closer to my car. I stood there. My jaw dropped and I froze. The cargo got closer and closer to me and then finally I realized people are screaming. But I didn’t know what they were screaming. I remained frozen, eyes fixed on the cargo, and my hearing remained muffled with shock. Then out of nowhere, the very teacher I hit with my car, grabbed me from behind and pulled me back several feet, “Get out of the way!” I could finally hear her clearly.

Thankfully, the cargo stopped just a couple feet away from my car. No one got hurt. They all sorted out and drove on. Crazy.

I don’t even remember details right after that. I don’t remember how I got home. I just know I got home with my brothers, safe and sound, my face still red from that airbag. And oh the stories we were telling Mom when we saw her. (this was, of course, before everyone had cell phones)


Have you ever had times in your life, when everything comes to an abrupt stop. It leaves you vulnerable. No one can tell what’s going on in your head. Are you ok? Are you hurt? Can you hear? See? Do you even know your own condition? The dominos could fall just right that could end you. Maybe you can hear the whispers of warning. Maybe not. Maybe then is when another person, another soul, comes and grabs you from behind in haste and pulls you away from danger, shouting your name.

That is humanity at it’s finest.

That is the hand of the Almighty working through the church.

But one of three things will happen in these scenarios:

1. You will heed the whispers and get help for yourself.

2. You will ignore the whispers, but allow the force of a friend (or many) to help you get help. And then you will look back and remember, “oh yeah… there were whispers….”

3. Death. Either physical or mental, but if mentally, the physical is always around the corner.

*If you are reading this and you have witnessed someone go down number 3, as I have witnessed many times, know that it’s not your fault. It is not your failure. You are not and have never been in control of another person. There is hope here still. There is always hope. The hope is they are now resting in His arms. You will always remember them, you will always feel the pain when you think of them, but it makes your force that much stronger.



I’ll have to ask my brothers how we got home that day. Cuz now it’s buggin me.

Tattooing Grace

I haven't been able to go to church in a while. Either because of sickness or because I have another headache, or simply because I don't feel like dragging all the kids out. I love the church we are at. It holds sweet and kind people in it. I don't think I've ever been to a place where there were so many thinkers, artists of all kinds, and introverts in one room! Good night! I love how the sermons are Love driven, giving us things to think about and the kind of church we need to be. The focus is grace in it's truest form.

But as I sit at home, missing out on it, sunday after sunday, small group after small group... I start to disconnect. And that's...... bad for me. Really bad. Insecurities creep in. My introverish behavior worsens and then I ultimately feel defeated. Displaced. Why?

I can only root it back to the pain. A pain that my heart has carried for a few years now about church. Some very specific moments, along with some very general perspectives. I've tried to come up with a million reasons why it got to me so bad and how things are so wrong, and how I need to "let that go". But you know? It's hard. To let go. (oh yes... Let It Go is now running through my head... dang it.) Anywho.

I had yet another set back recently that, as always, brought me to tears about these past hurts and I remember telling my husband this, "Why can't I just heal faster?!"

Have you ever felt such pain that you just want it to finally stop? You want it to leave you be? My guard is up so high right now, but at the same time, I'm so desperate for the fellowship. So desperate to smile at a stranger when we pass one another and make it a real smile. Desperate to know the people that surround me and laugh with them and cry with them. I've barely given them a chance. Such sweet people that have wronged me in no way and still fear remains in my heart, nudging me out the door.

I know the truth. I know we are all human and make mistakes. I know that I can't expect any kind of perfection out of anyone, especially myself, because the mess is what makes the fellowship that much more beautiful. Or as Momastery likes to put it, "brutiful".  

The church (in the global sense) is moving. I can feel it and have felt it for quite some time, but never has it been more evident to me as it is now. So many hurtful doctrines and leadership, creating a growing group of outcasts. The more people I talk to about this very concept, the more that come forward about how they've had a painful experience with church too. And a lot of it, if not all of it, screams legalism. Churches that take their rules and regs too far, to the letter of the law, and then preach about grace. I believe the church is dividing more and more, between legalism and grace (but I'll write about that some other time).

Now I admit I'm not a very graceful person. I'm working on it. But I tell you, with the pain I carry and then when reaching up for some kind of comfort, some kind of reasoning, some kind of answer..... Grace is the name I'm given.

Jesus gave Grace.

But it's not just about giving grace to those who hurt me, but it's also about wearing grace for those that I may hurt in the future if I don't. Giving grace because I know what it feels like to feel outcast. And I must not forget myself, giving myself grace enough to show up. With all my mess.... just show up. 

Finding these people that have been hurt too brings both hope and sadness. Because some have found the gems (churches) where they have found graceful fellowship again and that's a great thing! (Yes, they are out there!) But some... haven't been able to find it yet. Or they don't want to find it. And I have to allow them their process, just as I'm allowed mine.

I know the pain will stop in the end, but I'm not at the end and neither are you. I feel I will quite probably carry this pain with me everywhere I go. Like a scar. But I have my whole life to live and so do you. So what do I do with this pain and this scar?

See it as a "brutiful" tattoo and....

Look at it and Remember.

Remember Grace. 

Remember to give it AND to receive it. 

Because it's one of the most important things you can do for yourself and for others.

Pain forces us to remember where we've been, so then maybe we can find where we need to go from here.

I Believe I Can Float.

I'm going to hit 3 different topics with this post. I'm going to attempt to keep them each short... ((unsure giggle)) ... I give you my best anyway. These topics have not much to do with one another, however, it's me, and this is only a GLIMPSE into my random mind, that I'm making sense for all of you. Did that sentence even make sense? It did to the ones that are like me, I'm sure. Anywho, moving on.


Number one:
Frugally Sustainable.
 As we've been learning more about this, some interesting things have been happening to us. Our basement apparently has a love/hate relationship with water. We can never seem to keep it dry down there. There's seepage after every heavy rain. And we've been recently trying to unclog our main drains down there, that have flooded up in our basement.... ew. As we were resolving some of said disgustingness, we were realizing our hot water heater is dripping. Seriously?! It seems it's one thing after another, all of the sudden. (don't even get me started on our van!) We have only so much to spend to try and fix all this, so we both decided, we're going to have to choose priorities and slowly get everything taken care of. My priority was not the hot water heater, so off it goes until it's turn on the list for a new one. We've been boiling water for all our hot water needs. It feels very poineerish, and it's really not so bad. Of course, it's HOT outside, so cold water is welcome right now anyway. It's made me appreciate water/ hot water, all the more. I have best friends in Africa that have to collect the rain water in huge towers beside their house, and THAT's their water supply for EVERYTHING! No "city water" for them. If they can manage, I'm sure can. 
If you want to be a huge target for satan to mess with your material items and learn more about how to live frugally then you can start here >> http://frugallysustainable.com/2011/11/23-day-frugal-living-challenge-join-us/ We're not very far into it, of course, but we're a working progress.


Number two:
Anger Management
If you've been reading my blog, you probably have noticed some posts about some "little" anger issues I have been having recently... I swear I feel bipolar when it comes to my emotions and circumstances that happen.
-I've gone from seeing the sun start to rise, to feeling worthless as it burns my skin.
-From hope of a fresh start, to history haunting me and taunting me. 
-From taking a breath of air, to quickly suffocating from sneaky hands that wrap their fingers around my neck.
-I've been fighting feelings of feeling like people around me (even good friends) are treating me like I'm a little girl that can't handle certain news. I've even been questioning who my real friends are. 
 My husband finally pegged it for me. (God love him) The deceiver has been reading scripture to me and I've been believing the lies that comes with how he preaches.
-The sun is rising, and my skin can burn.
-I'm capable of taking a first step, and capable of stumbling over the same stone I've already passed.
-I can breathe, and there are hands waiting to grab hold of me. 
-I have friends that are keeping things from me. 
These things are all "true". I'm not being gullible to lies. Then why do I have this need "to be done?" Is this it? Shall I eat worms now?
That's what he'd have me believe. There's more Truth that he purposefully won't nag me about. Where's the "more Truth" part? I'm finding it.
- The sun is rising, my skin can burn, but the One who made the sun is teaching me how to condition myself to it's strength. With every sun, comes a new challenge, a new purpose for what God has for me to do for Him. 
- I'm capable of taking a first step, capable of stumbling over that same stone, but because of Christ's blood cleansing me enabling the Holy Spirit to work through me, there is Power there that can guide and protect my steps. And no stone will stop Him. 
- I can breathe, there are hands waiting to smite me, but this body is merely a vessel on Earth, and I am a child of God that holds the power of Jesus' name over any true enemies. (demons)   It is God that gives me breath, not him. 
- I have friends. I have family. They need to get over trying not to upset me, however, they do it because they care about me. And God has blessed me with great friends, that have reminded me of that "more Truth" that I seem to forget sometimes.
I'm still a working progress, but I'm getting there.


Number three:  I saved my "not so much of a downer" shpeel for last.
I love my kids!
Naomi is getting so fat and beautiful. ok, I really didn't have any new information there. I thank God for my kids. Alright I love my biggest kid of all, my husband. You know, going through all this has definitely brought us together even more. It's given us a new set of challenges to face, but we know that together, with Christ at the center, we can overcome anything. I'm not saying that I haven't wanted to hurt him recently out of my irritability, (poor hubby) but he loves me so much, I'm not sure how, but that always wins me over, and makes me want to be that much closer to him. I absolutely LOVE our jam sessions in the morning and night. He'll play his guitar and I'll be on my ukulele and we'll play and sing until our fingers hurt. ... or until one of the "wingdings" needs our attention.
Genesis 1:31a  "And God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good."

Me and my other half. 

Deescalating Anger

I hate roller coasters. really. I'm deathly afraid of heights. I actually experience a little bit of vertigo when so high. I've been dragged on roller coasters when I was a lot younger, and knew I'd never get on them again. Been there, done that, not my motto for everything but I can say that for this.

This is not about roller coasters. Although it feels like we've been on one, and it's time to get. off.

I've been trying to find a way to write about my anger without saying names, places, etc. I wouldn't want to do that to them. So I'm going to try and keep my writings about myself, rather than the "other people" ... phew... I can see it already..<I'll get to that in a bit.

My name is kailan, and I have an anger problem.... (and a depression problem, but you already know that about me if you've read my other posts) uh.. I'm a mess... anywho. .. ehem....

I've been angry. I'm not talking about just disappointed, or irked. I'm talking REALLY really angry. The kind of angry that could get me into trouble. .... hey! not with the law, although... nevermind. anyway, more like getting me into trouble spiritually. God's pretty much scolded me on my behavior.

My actions haven't been so much the issue, it's more a heart issue. Do I feel wronged? Was I wronged? Heck yeah, buddy. I could tell you all about it, but I won't. That wouldn't be ladylike. and it wouldn't be bondservantish either... yes, I just made up a word. but you totally know what I mean, so I get away with it..:)

See? In my particular situation, I was wronged, the other party probably doesn't know about how they've wronged me or to what depths they've wronged me. I'm not sure the other party even likes me, I know they don't trust me. Which kind of hurts any friendship we may have had. So I remain with a painful relationship, no apologies, ..... ignorance has not been bliss..... but this is not my point in writing.

Even though I've gotten out of this wrong, for us, situation, I've been chewing on it ever since. Have you ever chewed on something so long that you are almost dreading swallowing it cause you're already gagging at the feeling of the mush in your mouth, and you know you're going to throw up if you keep it in there any longer??? Yeah.... I finally puked. It wasn't pretty. The ugly situation I was in, I was allowing it to make me ugly.

I didn't know what I wanted to happen. If he apologizes, I won't believe him. If he tries to befriend me now, I'll think it's out of pity or obligation. Do I just want him to know? How I feel? How he hurt me? How he's effected our family? or relationships? Do I hang on the solace of him knowing? Do I ought to cling to something like that? Is that right? I need resolve. How do I get through this anger with no resolve?.... something was eating away at me. something I was missing.

We've been visiting a couple different churches and I've been sitting in sermons that are just speaking to me. It's like God was making sure I was listening and getting what He was trying to tell me. First of all, I've gained perspective. The "Bigger" picture. You know... the kind of picture that shows me that one day I'm going to be standing in the face of God and none of this is going to matter. The kind of picture that shows me that one day I'll be standing beside this person, in fellowship together, worshiping God together in heaven. "Crap! He's my brother".... those words make me whine.....
(I know this is ugly, but honest)

As ignorant as he may or may not be, I am not. I know better. I know I need to forgive. When apologies are given they are for them to let go, not I. It's kind of like the respect thing. We respect people because that's what we are commanded to do, not because we deserve it. We deserve hell.... you do. I do. Jesus died and conquered that death, so we didn't have to. Do I deserve an apology? ... I deserve nothing...

(just a disclaimer on all this: this has been punching me in the stomach over and over, and it's taken months for me as I sat in my anger and finally come to all this.)

One pastor put it as so perfectly for me. It was like a final slap in the face. He said, "Sometimes our flesh may become offended by God." I literally ran that sentence over and over in my head. I was struggling so much with forgiveness. A forgiveness that I was being commanded to do. Something God was telling me to do and I wasn't doing it, because I felt he offended me too greatly. God was teaching me "the grace" lesson. Something my anal Law bound personality struggles with. And I was sticking my nose up, with my face turned away. ugly.... ugly... christian.... yeah..... that's me. And then I puked some more with the help of some close friends that didn't mind holding my hair back.

Then, one of my favorite pastors, said something that tied all these beatings together. (that's the only way I know how to describe it, cause this anger was so very painful, and it was taking painful truths to overcome it) He said, "Check your pride."

Man! There's that pride word again... How is it seriously prideful, when I've done nothing wrong, in fact I was the wronged one, and now I'm paying for it by getting sick and puking, and expecting him to.... to..... ??? Daaahhh! I don't even know how to explain it.... but all I knew is I was finally coming to the end of it...

My pride is holding onto a justice that isn't my call. My pride is fighting grace.

"Sometimes our flesh may be offended by God."

I'm learning some tough lessons. I feel like I have welts on my heart. But they will heal. Because the grace that I need to give him, is that very grace that I receive from God, that bleeds Love that produces grace because we are both equally that precious to Him.

That's a long sentence. Is that a run-on?

I feel better... I've missed Him.