My feelings were wrong.

Hubby said: “absolutely not; I do not want you to be a chat host at our online Church.”


I felt my foot permanently on the brake, stifled, held back, marginalized and voiceless. What about my future all my wisdom and verbal skills, organization and drive?!

Every feminist bone in my upbringing was screaming bloody murder!

I only listened and held my tongue and trusted you because I’ve learned the hard way that if ever your phlegmatic-sanguine-go.along.allergictoconflict self has a DEFINITE OPINION…..

I had better get myself by the back of the neck and listen.

Cuz you’re most likely right

(and if you’re not and I have a good attitude then God is going to get you and cover me. Think Abigail and Nabal. Thin smile.)

However, now that years have passed and I have gotten sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker and less able to do stuff and remember stuff and think ….. I’m really glad I listened to myself.

I thought God was going to heal me back then. Well I mean, in the way that I imagined healing to look.

I was completely utterly and gob-smacking-ly…

W r o n g.

Sometimes the journey

is more important

than the destination.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: