“Well, Mom, do you think I made a good choice?” We stared out the windshield of my parents’ van as my dad and new husband walked to the doors of a building.
She turned and looked me in the eye, one eyebrow slightly raised. “You really think it was your choice, Jahnelle?”
Memories of the past three years ran through my head. The first time I met this quiet, serious, shy guy who is now the Mr. to my Mrs., I was so full of mental anguish I couldn’t breathe because of it. At first, he was just a guy who went to the same church as me. Nice, but I wasn’t interested in – well, anything, to tell you the truth. I was lucky to get up in the morning and not fall apart.
For two years, he listened to me cry – hands in his pockets, warm brown eyes watching me. He became a friend, this calm man of few words. He asked questions, nodded at the answers or tilted his head to the side, inviting more. He listened as I worked through issues big and small. He was like those rocks in the middle of the Zen sand garden: peaceful quietude against my chaotic emotions. Continue reading →
About 3% of the U.S. population has it and approximately 83,000 are women. Although there’s lots of guessing by the medical community, there’s no known cause, no known cure, and most people consider it a “catch-all” diagnosis. Even some doctors believe it’s a psychological condition. Hypochondria, anyone? Well, it isn’t in my head. Continue reading →
A few months ago, my dad bought eleven chickens. He has since summed up the chicken caring experience like this, “Now I know when someone calls you a chicken, it’s really an insult.” Our little egg layers aren’t even laying eggs yet since they aren’t old enough to breed.
A few oddities:
One of our hens is a Silkie, given to my daughter by our neighbor who decided she needed a pet. J, who has unsuccessfully tried to name a series (and wide variety) of creatures Nala, now has a Nala of her very own. Apparently, Nala will be laying little eggs small enough that it’d take four or five to make a regular sized egg. I’ve never seen a chicken that looked like it had fur. Continue reading →
The difference between a flower and a weed is how much the plant is wanted.
I’m convinced pretty much anything can be a metaphor for life’s experiences. I’m also convinced pretty much anything can be positive or negative, depending on one’s outlook at the time. In fact, as I once wrote, I’m sure our reality changes depending on… well… us.
Take, for instance, a garden. If your life were a garden, what would you be growing? Weeds? Flowers? Vegetables? A haven for critters? Continue reading →
Hope… it’s such a crystalline word, isn’t it? It seems so fragile and so easily destroyed. Looking back over my life, I can see times when hope seemed so far away as to be nonexistent, and times when I burned brightly with it. I’ve been wondering what makes the difference between hope and hopelessness, and I think I finally have the answer. Continue reading →
You know that moment when you realize no matter how truthful you’ve tried to be (or thought you were being), you’ve been feeding your loved ones a big, old pie of lies? It’s that “how’d that slip in there?” moment; that “I can’t believe I said that” moment; the “why’d I say that it’s not true” moment. Yeah, I’m in all those moments right now.
Because I’ve realized I’m so full of it sometimes that you can smell the lies and hypocrisy from the next state over.
Now, I’ve tried to keep my blog posts on a narrow ledge between secular and religious, because I know some of those who read here don’t believe what I believe, but this post has a decidedly religious bent. For you who aren’t, I’ve found something else for you to read so you don’t feel like I tricked you – I already feel bad enough. Continue reading →