Baggage

For the longest time, I believed that I was taking care of my baggage.

Only to realize years later, that I was not cleaning out the junk,

but instead, rearranging it, giving more room for more junk.

How refreshing to have new luggage, with plenty of room for the good stuff.

We’ll chat more about how that’s done as we go along,

or you can contact me here or on Twitter @DeborahSPC to begin to take some steps.

What Bugs You?

The prompts from Julie JordanScott   and her 5 for 5 brain dumps, can really be good ideas for blog posts.

Like this one;

Write About What Bothers You.

What bugs you?

What is beautiful about what bugs you?

( If you don’t know what 5 for 5 Brain Dump is, you can click

Here to find out more about it.)

I’ve done this prompt before, but this is the latest one;

What really bugs me, is when my mind goes blank.

When I know very clearly what I want to say, and yet, the words won’t come.

At times this makes me want to quit.

Sometimes this makes me wonder if I really have a clue.

Sometimes, I realize I just need more sleep. Or better food. Or more exercise.

When all these things are in place, I know it’s because my quiet time has suffered.

My worship life has waned.

Although this is not a great place to be,

there is beauty in that when I realize fully what is going on,

I can seek His face again.

He welcomes me back, and my brains begin to revive.

Often to a new thing, a new thought, a new place, that I had not previously considered.

For me, I believe it is a way for my brain to make room for newer, and better upgrades.

That’s what I’m going with!

 

Happy Resurrection Weekend to You All!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Spring Council

The re-entry to my home after a three week trip, was a little more intense than anticipated.

I so missed posting my usual Monday post.

I have not put a post together for this week, but I was working on a different project.

Turns out, I can’t use it for it’s intended purpose, so I thought I’d just post it here.

Kind of a filler, if you will.

I was researching why starlings/black birds, swarm, or murmurate, in the spring.

Some scientists believe it is because there is safety in numbers. Some think they meet together to exchange information, such as locations for good food. As quickly as they gather, they take flight, their movements as one, and their wings making a murmuring sound. Murmuration.

These birds gather behind and around my house during the first part of Spring.

They are raucously noisy. Wonderful to watch, and gone in as little as two days.

I have to wonder what their very loud “Spring Council” is all about!

 

I missed being there when they decided to move.

Please use the following link to see what happens when these noisy little guys decide to move all at once. (Linked because I did not obtain copyright permission)

I hope you find them as fascinating as I did!

Click here for → Starling Murmuration video clips.

 

 

Part Three – Growing Up Churched (3/3)

 

The Men People Trusted.

 

In the church I grew up in, and in all churches, military, businesses, families etc, there is a hierarchy.

There is always the boss, followed closely by an assistant. There are scribes, and treasurers, and event planners.

Churches have Pastors, Assistant Pastors, Executive Pastors, Teaching Pastors, along with secretaries, treasurers and then Deacon Boards.

All of that being said, one must know that if you are to hold one of those positions, you have proven yourself to be trustworthy and upstanding, as a child might even think; Holy.

After church service, there was a Sunday school class. Adults went to a different part of the building than the kids. I can still see it in my mind, all the people passing in the hall to go to their respective classes.

There, going the opposite direction as me, was a deacon who locked his eyes on me. I was around 12 or so, so I just thought he was being friendly. Each week, as we passed in the hallway, he would lock eyes on me and began to walk a little closer. I had no vocabulary for it, but I knew it felt weird. It felt scary, even creepy. He then proceeded to touch me where he shouldn’t. Every time a bit more aggressively.

My stomach would roil, and my heart would threaten to come out of my throat when I saw him coming. I knew he was a deacon. Someone the other adults looked up to and even trusted. Who would believe the words of this child, who in her wrongness didn’t fit in anywhere?

I never told a soul. Several months and several incidents passed. I made up some story about not wanting to go to class any more, even though I really did want to.

So I wasn’t in the hallway anymore, the terror and the feeling of even more wrongness stayed with me. I will always wonder if I was the only one. Statistically speaking, there were probably many more..

That was “Back in the day”, when secret things were secret things. The problem with secret things is that they tend to tarnish their container. I was tarnished, through no fault of my own, but acted out tarnished for the next several years.

Until much, much later I found out a few things; it was not my fault, God did not see me as faulty, people are people, whether they be in high places or low, even little girls and boys should talk about any secrets that adults make happen, that make them feel awful and anxious and scared.

In a previous post, The Cartography of Our Scars I addressed the fact that our scars, our landscape, makes us who we are.

Sure, I can wish it never happened, but it did, and so much more. But now I have only to use that rutted road to hold on to someone else’s hand, to help them find the way out.

Remember when that woman I barely knew said it wasn’t my fault?

The truth that she spoke to me set me on the twisty road to freedom.