Sing a song


You make me smile.

I love my life.

I choose this attitude.

! Life cereal
Love that stuff

! Fan blowing all night.
Love the sound.

! New leaves fresh and green and tender

! Opening packages


! Strawberry poptarts with sprinkles

! Smell of good dirt

! Video recipes

! My husband/best friend

! Real sugar Coke

! Take out

!General Taos chicken

! Writing my blog. Imagining all the people being helped to go on ♡

!Honest words

!Spinach and pickles on sandwiches


I don’t mean to say that I don’t believe God could heal me… my family ♡ …our world.

He can do anything.

But He doesn’t always.

I don’t understand that; and that’s going to be okay with me.

I’m going to be okay.


“we believe that, as selfAttunement deepens, he or she comes to know and accept himself or herself more– in colloquial terms the individual becomes his or her own best friend”

Psychotherapist: mindfulness and the Psychotherapy process, multiple authors





lord i want to Approach my world with COAL.


I want to infect the world and myself with COAL.

Like Jesus:

So quiet inside His soul of that He could really listen.

“The God who sees me”


The other s-word

I was raised by strong women who did NOT CARE FOR men.

Needless to say, this has led to many gnarly problems in my marriage(s); my first short, young, barely post-adolescent marriage did not survive it.

(That sounds weird, doesn’t it. My marriages.)

Let me clarify.

My heart completely belongs to my man of twenty-three years. Totally loyal to him.

I choose not to cogitate very much about that other, alcoholic, young, immature musician who cheated on me and was done with me in about three months when I was twenty.

So why even bring it up?

Just keepin’ it real. Not into fake-perfect-Christian-ness.

Probably not helpful to you.


For the record,

I do not fault my exTREMELY matriarchal clan: there were some very personal and heart-breaking reasons for their attitudes toward men.

But they were still messed up, and they messed ME up.

Can you relate?

Some of their reactions may have been wrong and out of balance im my family system:


ALL behavior is motivated.

And hurting people hurt people, right?

I understand.


Much counseling.

Much prayer.

Much teaching later…

Water goes under the bridge….

…suffice it to say that god has brought me to a place that is closer to the middle I think.

More balanced.




Regarding submission in marriage, I think of headship like i think of police officers or senators or doctors— God put them there to maintain order in their sphere, right? And to take care of stuff and do good.

Not all limits are harmful to me.

I don’t think the speed limit is offensive to me.

I don’t quarrel with the washing label on my clothing.

That sort of thing is there to do me good, right?


Why should I get my panties in a twist over the S-word?

Reboot my heart.

Rather than feeling stifled…. i now revel in the protection of my authorities.

Knowing that I am not ultimately responsible for EVERYthing … relaxation, relief, peace.

I love it. That is a choice I make. It makes me happy.

I LIKE knowing that the buck does not stop with me.

I am not responsible for everything.

I’m just a girl and I want to do good in the world but I am not doing other people’s stuff.

More about how to be a submitted-sweet-sane-sassy wife when my man is quiet and avoids conflict….. in the future.


Is it strength?

While I have been sick, I’ve been starting to see some of the things that I have done or had to do from the other side as well…the perpetrator side. you know? Instead of monster-ising everyone.

Being sick has given me a lot of time to think and pray. (…. a lot more time than I would like sometimes. I get to where I actually hate my bed. That is when I’m thankful for my comfy chair.)

But I wonder: can being strong become…

(Drum roll please…)

a be-setting weakness?

I think so .

I think that getting sick has been used by God as discipline in my life for the specific purpose of correcting this weakness. (that makes me uncomfortable to admit!)

I feel sorrow and compassion for the my offenders nowadays: they were doing the best they could as well. Not that they won’t answer to GOD for hurting innocents.  (Shiver. Tremble.)  GOD HELP US ALL.

Being abused made me strong. I needed to be strong; I used it when I was growing up and trying to leave home.

  • when I had to report a family member to the police and they went to prison
  • The resultant family uproar and shunning!! My socks!
  • When i had to kick my dad out for being abusive when they had come to visit me in another state. That was awful.
  • When i kept my children away from my mother and dad and forbade them to visit.

because our family system was evil…


the actual moms and dads and cousins and aunts.

I’m glad God made me strong. I needed it at the time !

But there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. I have taken being strong and articulate too far. I have created a monster you guys!

I would like to correct AND bring things into balance, God helping me.

Does that make sense?

But not the actual people in the family system. I think I needed to be corrected on on that.


Reboot my heart

I want to focus on the following things.

I am thankful. God is good and there are good things in the world.

*Baby birds chirping for their breakfast outside my window
* Mascara because some of us have blond eyelashes
* Gain scented laundry soap
* Baby plants when they first come up and they only have two fat round leaves: they’re precious and I want to put them in my pocket
* Watching children grow up bittersweet but I choose to focus on the sweet.