Warrior's Voice

Voice Unleashed – Warrior Uncovered

Oh to be able to speak my mind.

Believe me, one day I will.

I should say, at times right now, I do.

I speak it loud and clear.

And yet, at times I bite my tongue, hold my thoughts, clench my jaw.

Not because I fear what you all may think.

Oh no, I am well beyond looking for approval.

How to win friends and influence people? I’m not looking for friends I have to win.

As far as influencing, well, okay, maybe I do that a wee bit.

Why the spaces between each line? To give pause to each sentence I type tonight.

Tomorrow is a big day for me. One that I want to write freely about. One that I will write freely about.

The Warrior within me is crying out. Not a sad cry. No longer a lonely cry. Not in fear.

No, she is strong. Her resolve is renewed. She has discovered who she is. Her voice is no longer silenced.

She is ready for battle.

Her army surrounds her. They go before her, along side her, and follow behind her.

She is protected on all sides.

Tomorrow is the day the Warrior cries, “That’s NOT Okay!”

It never was. It isn’t. And it never will be.

 

To be continued……

Book Reviews

Book Blurb – Five Men Who Broke My Heart

I have sat with this book in front of me, next to me, within eyesight for three days. To write a review or not, that is the question I wrestled with. The battle was real. I cannot write a true review as I have read but 90 of the over 200 pages. And yet, maybe that is the review. I was unable, unwilling to continue reading for the sake of finishing the book.

A writer myself, it pains me to type this. How would I feel if someone were to post, for all to see, that they were unable, unwilling to read my words to the end, as bitter as it may be. First of all, I do not have a full book in print as of yet, for one to read, let alone review. And second, who am I to think that my review bears weight of any kind to another auther. (cue laughter)

I love to read and am reading a large amount of books as of late. Mostly memoir, but not entirely. I throw in a bit of fiction and creative nonfiction as well. I’d love to read a book per week, which could be possible if the book met my longing. I long for a book to grab hold of me, so much so, I hate to put it down. I want to find myself reading at night until the black type blurs turning to grey as it mixes with the whiteness of the page it sits on. To wake in the morning rushing through my responsibilities sneaking 5 minutes here and there with the book, Each turn of the page better than the one before.

Five Men Who Broke My heart was not to be, not for me. I was intrigued by the idea of a woman going back to meet, find, connect with the men who had first captured her heart before breaking it. I made it through the chance meet up with #1 and #2 with great effort and a bit of skin reading here and there. I kept waiting for that moment when the story would grab hold of me and pull me throught to the end. After 7 chapters, more than I give most books, it just wasn’t doing it.

That said, I can’t tell you if the book is good, great, or terribly bad. All I can say is, it wasn’t for me. Each relationship, her current the two from the past I made it through, were bland. They lacked energy, drama, excitement, whatever it might take to reel me in for the long haul. Each time I closed the book, it was without hesitation. Not even the slight sense of reluctance of needing to move on to a different task. I wanted to finish it, as I hate to quit. I couldn’t do it. I have officially let it go. Closed the book for the final time.

Tomorrow I will return it to the library.

I am left with this question:

If I do not finish the book, do I still click the ‘Have Read’ on Good Reads?

Christianity and People

Lent 2019 – Living Life, Moment by Moment

Reflecting on Lent today, I found myself thinking of living life, each day, every day, moment by moment, action by action. Until a few years ago I did not know what Lent was. Growing up in a Pentecostal Church and then 10 years in a Baptist Church, Lent was not a part of our teachings or traditions. As social media became more prevalent I saw friends giving up things for Lent. You can Google ‘Top 10 Things to Give up for Lent’ and find some great, beneficial and even interesting, ideas. Typically I see: Sweets in general, Chocolate, Alcohol, TV, and now the ever popular, Social Media.

A few years ago, I attended an Ash Service at Luther Memorial Church in Broadview with my friend, Maggie. It was my first year going to a service, receiving ashes, and giving something up for Lent. The previous year, I read up on Lent and spent time exploring the story of Easter in the bible. This year my focus will be on giving up what I am holding on to. Most likely not tangible possession, although I did post a few things on ‘Buy Nothing’ just this afternoon, so that may play a role as well. More importantly, thoughts I am holding on to, irritations, opinions, attitudes, worries and fears. Troubles from the past, the present and things to come that I cannot predict or control. Things that have happened whose ill effects linger still, bearing weight upon my heart, these too I shall let go.

Today as I sat thinking about Lent and reading my Bible I decided I would go to the service in my neighborhood once again. I carried with me no expectation other than for the service to set my mind and heart on the upcoming Easter holiday. As I walked up the street the darkness covering my view of what lingered above and beyond the trees, I felt the cool mist in the air about me settle on my skin. Silence surrounded me, other than the clomping of my boots on the wet pavement. I saw my daughter’s car in her driveway and decided to knock and see if she would join me.

We walked together the short two blocks to the church and found our way in (after asking a woman for directions as to where to enter). There was an NA meeting about to start in the lobby of the church. The room they will meet in is under construction. We found it was necessary to walk right through their meeting as we entered and later, as we left. The solid wood doors to the sanctuary were closed. I reached out to pull one open. Our ears greeted by the low tones of a lone cello lovingly stroked by the bow held in hand. Candles lit. Participants sat, two in this row, five in that row, one in the last. We took a seat amongst them. The clergy and her assistant sat up front, robes reaching the floor, resting on their shoes. The cellist along with the pianist painting a picture with melody and harmony.

The service, ritualistic in nature, soothed my soul as my spirit was drawn into reflection of what Christ did. I responded as directed by the pamphlet given to us after we had sat down by the lone man in the last row. Later we would find he, and the five sitting together, along with the clergy, were the choir which would sing at the end. We listened to scripture, sang along with the hymns, soaked in the Homily (message), confessed our sins and sought forgiveness, before receiving the ashes.

Reminded we are dust and to dust we shall return. A cross gently drawn on our foreheads by the clergy and her assistant. We agreed in prayer for others near and far, a song of thanks rang out. After a final prayer from the clergy we were given communion. I dipped the wafer placed in my hand into the cup of wine. Words were spoken, I do not recall. I nodded and partook of the emblems. My heart in tune to the meaning. The bread, His body, broken for my sins. The price, the penalty He paid for me. His blood, shed, covered, cleansed me from all unrighteousness. Washing me white as snow in His Father’s eyes. For this, I am ever grateful.

The choir sang as the five of us left in our seats looked upon, listening to their voices in unity, in harmony, sing of His wondrous love for us. The song ended. The clergy stepped out a side door into the unknown. All was silent. We looked about, and then down at our pamphlet.

As the service ends, you are invited to visit a pastoral prayer station for individual prayer, remain in the worship space in meditation and reflection, or go in peace.

Peace be with you.

And also with you.

Family and Pets

It’s a Mom Thing

The click of the buckle barely noticed as my nose was assaulted by what could only be called, BO. What? How could this be? Surely I put my deoderant on this morning. I am a woman of routine. Car put into gear I began the drive to my next of 3 stops, all to be completed before meeting our son at the bus stop for pick up. My nose crinkled, once again slapped with an unpleasant scent. A glance around my car to be sure no one was watching, I pulled the under arm of my jacket toward my nose.

I stink. It must be the jacket. Certain I had forgottent to wash it, I wiggled my hand through the neck of my shirt, down the should and into my armpit. My pit skin dry, free of the texture of cream. I rubbed the skin and then brought my fingers to my nose for a sniff. Ugh.

Lightbulb! I used to keep a travel size deoderant in my car compartment in case of this exact occurance when taking clients to view homes. Brilliant (yes, I complimented myself)! Keeping my eyes on the road my hand fumbled around finding pens, chapstick, scissors and then what felt like….

Yes, there it was. A small stick of deoderant. I tried to pull the cap off while hoping the next stop light would be red. If I could put it on while at a light, I wouldn’t be late to Bible Study. I approached a light and removed the cap. A large clump of crumbled white deoderant fell onto my seat between my legs. I glanced down and then back at the car infront of me, seeing the headline clearly, ‘Woman rear ends car while applying deoderant.’

‘Keep your legs apart, do NOT get this white mess on your clean black pants. You do not have time to go home and change.’ I often talk to myself, who doesn’t? At the light I scooped the crumbled but still mushy mess of deoderant off the seat and plopped it in my empty cup holder. At the next light I put the car in park, unbuckled and reached over to grab the box of kleenex on the floor, placed them safely on the seat next to me and rebuckled. Green means go sister.

As I approached the next red light my fingers removed a small portion of the clump of deoderant after having unzipped my jacket and making sure my shirt was loose enough to maneuver under. Once stopped, I slipped my hand under my shirt, up to my arpit and spread the cream all around the skin, covering the BO smell with fresh scent. Traffic light turned green, the other pit would have to wait. Got it, okay, now to clean my hands. Kleenex to the rescue.

Now smelling better than I had, I parked my car and continued my non-stop day which did not come to an end until I had delivered our son to soccer practice, late, at 5:05 PM. I forgot to mention, when taking him to practice my car suddenly died, over and over again. Each time I put it in drive or reverse with little to no gas. I babied it to get him to practice then came home to look up the warranty. That will wait until tomorrow. For now, I must cook dinner.

Note to self: Purchase new travel size deoderant for car.