Archive | August, 2012

Does God Test?

7 Aug

There was a man in front of me at the convenience store. He paid for his coffee with nickles and pennies.He looked cold and homeless. He walked out and started down the road on foot. I got back in my car with my change in my hand. Someone had written “God Loves You” on a ten dollar bill. I lost my breath. For a fleeting moment , I wanted to believe it. To think this message was given to me on purpose, then something told me it wasn’t my message. I guess I knew that. It was for him, the man with the coffee. So for some strange reason, I pulled out , made a left, and passed the man. I drove down to the next cross street , folded the ten dollar bill really tight and dropped it at the stop sign that he would be coming up to next. I looped around to head back in the direction of school. I passed him in the other direction, In my rear view mirror I saw him stoop to pick something up. I hoped he got the message.It gave me such a good feeling, I wondered if he would get himself something to eat. Then I wondered…..was that a test? Does God test?

five years in fear

6 Aug

It was a challange because I didn’t think about what was beneath the hair. People. I wasn’t good at talking to people, by this time I was pretty shaken and very quiet. On lunch breaks I didn’t try to sit with any of the girls, I went through drive thru’s and ate in my car. I was great at beauty school though. I got perfect grades and did excellent work. The senior citizens came and had their hair done. I didn’t know what to say, but they really helped me become comfortable talking to strangers. I even started to talk to my classmates, who later informed me that they thought I was a snob when I first started school. I laughed, I was just scared to death , that’s all. I got used to not talking to people, now I had to get used to trying to feel confident. I was working through it.The worst part of the day was when school ended. I knew I would see him in my rear view mirror. I was trying to get away from him. He kept trying to get me to talk to him. I heard it all before, he was sorry, he wouldn’t hurt me again, I was busy working full time and going to school. He was losing his hold on me. He swung between threats and apologies. If I didn’t come over he was going to cut the break lines on my mothers car. He was going to set my house on fire while myself and my family were sleeping, and it would be my fault when we were all dead. He didn’t like losing his grip, the fear was dissipating. I had lost my will to live so threatening my life didn’t carry much weight. I didn’t care. I said “do it”. I refused to be around him so he stalked me. I wasted five years in fear.

Aside

what the future holds?

6 Aug

I went to our local mall near Christmas time. The whole notion that it had to do with the birth of Christ was completely lost on me. Christmas was for children and it was about Santa Claus. I saw a family getting ready to get their picture with Santa. I sat on the bench watching the dad straighten a little tie he had on his son. He wore a red sweater vest to match his sisters red velvet Christmas dresses. The two girls both had long blonde hair ,brushed back with red bows holding the hair off their faces, while their long hair hung free in the back. It looked like silk. They had white stockings and black shiney shoes. I did it, I said I wouldn’t but I did it anyway, I had to talk to Him. “Dear God I bet they’re from one of your families aren’t they? Watching the mom and dad and their three kids laughing and having their picture taken, and you could just see the love. You don’t know me, but I used to try to talk to you a long time ago. I said I wouldn’t do it again. Well, I don’t know your rules or how it works but can’t you please let me in? I see this family and I know I can never get to be one of those little girls with clean combed hair, and a red velvet dress, with shiney shoes and love, love, love. But couldn’t I get to be the mom of a family with kids of my own, and a dad that won’t leave, and love, love, love? Please send me someone to love me. Please. Give me a chance to have a normal life. I just want to be happy. I just want to be loved. There must be someone for me, is there someone ?”

I got up from the bench, disappointed in myself, I broke my own promise to myself and tried to talk to God, which I said I wouldn’t do anymore. I walked around a little and slowed down to peer into a hair salon. It looked like they were having a fun time at work and I remembered how I used to love to play with my friends and sisters hair when I was younger. I wondered if I should think about going to beauty school, I was naturally great at styling hair. I decided to talk to my mom about it. What few friends I had, were all away at college. I never even took SAT’s, I never even knew about them. College wasn’t in my future, I struggled in basic classes, I had no confidence. But my hands, they could do anything. I enrolled in our local beauty academy and launched a new career.

I wonder if I was under a spiritual attack…

6 Aug

Looking back, I wonder if I was under a spiritual attack. I was around the most dark and godless people. I hardly saw my family or childhood friends. I was scared and felt trapped. I developed the abilty to shut down. I had long stopped crying out to God in times of sorrow or gratitude, in fact I didn’t feel gratitude for the things I use to in the past. I thought that I had figured out how it worked. There were families that “had God”, they were his and he loved them, all beautiful things were here for them, even though the rest of us could see it, it was a residual benefit, it was meant for those that were from God’s families. I noticed such a difference in those people , they had peace, and they were so unlike  the people that I was around my whole life. I didn’t feel connected at all to the people that were ” Gods”. I also felt it was very unfair to be left out, I would have loved to be included. I felt stupid for the times I tried to talk to him in my head. I’d been bothering him since I was little, and he didn’t even know who I was. I had a voice in my head that kept telling me about the one way out. I struggled with it daily. It wouldn’t shut up.  it was wearing me down.

Aside

“Waiting here for Everyman-“

5 Aug

I didn’t feel sad. I didn’t feel upset, I didn’t feel…loved, I just didn’t feel. I got to a point where I felt…nothing. I existed. I didn’t see my friends, my every move was monitored. I just tried to exist without causing any problems.I didn’t make eye contact, or speak to people. I hated the sound of my own voice. I got through school , but can’t name any of my teachers or kids I went to school with , accept my longtime friends.I don’t recall the principals name. I did recall a conversation I had years before, with my friend Debbie. “If you kill yourself, you do go to hell, and hell is forever” so the twelve boxes of sleeping pills that I bought at the pharmacy, I just threw those in the trash can. I had parked my car at Washington Crossing State Park. With a fake I.D., I bought a bottle of Tequila sunrise to wash them down with, so I drank that anyway, smoked some cigarettes and listened to Jackson Browne sing “For Everyman”.

My spirit was broken

5 Aug

One day I found a crucifix on the ground.One of his arms were free from the cross, like a bead of solder had broken. It was golden with a silver figure of Jesus. I doubt it was real gold or real silver, but it was sort of a treasure to me. I put it on a cord and hung it around my neck. I didn’t know the whole story of Jesus. I didn’t think about it , I just wore it. I didn’t talk to God anymore. I thought that I realized he didn’t hear me. That he didn’t know who I was . But it reminded me of the friends I never saw anymore. I had changed into a dark, depressed person with no light in me. My spirit was broken.

I just stopped

5 Aug

As an adult I see it, but I didn’t see it then. I wasn’t unique, young girls do it all the time. I got myself involved in a destructive relationship. I guess I took out my Superman cape. I found a broken boy. I was going to make his life better just by me being in it. I was going to be the saving angel of his life. I was going to matter to somebody. In no time I relinquished all control over my own life and handed him the reigns. This really seemed to boost his self esteem. He felt better about himself everyday.He felt especially mighty when he was kicking me on the ground, or shaking my head around my handfuls of my hair. The saddest part was I didn’t even bother to tell anyone he was hurting me. I grew up being treated like this by my own sister and no one cared, I guess I didn’t think they would care this time either. I made myself his prisoner, my bars were fear..I stopped talking to God along time ago. I didn’t even stop to say the thank you’s anymore. Thank you for the snow, those flowers , that blue bird….I just stopped.