Good Thursday afternoon to everyone. I’m here again this afternoon to share a bit about me with all of you. Many of you have read my story because once upon a time I really wanted to write a book. No one would believe it, trust me. My therapist had a time with it many years ago herself. She said I have never in my 35 years heard of one person that had been through so much and lived to tell about it.
I came from humble beginnings, a Christian Mother, and an alcoholic Father. In my early stories on the old blog, I referred to my dad as the good, dad, or the mean dad as a child because I knew something was different but, as a small child, I didn’t know what. At an early age before 10, I would be the buffer between him and my Mother when he was the mean dad. My Mother, was a very thin woman, 5’10 and 109 lbs. She was sweet, and loved by all that knew her. She had to have loved my dad to endure all she did. I started using drugs at 14, married at 17 and had my first son at 19. I just wanted OUT. I did love my son’s father, I was just so young and needed to find me, guess what at 67 I need once again to find me. Who at my age can relate to me? There are times I think Lord, who am I really? I was his wife, or their Mother, or their Nana, the boss at work. I was head of my household because I picked the wrong men time and time again. Married twice, both ended in divorce, yes! I never knew I guess what love from a man looked like because my Father never knew how to show it, he never got it either. The cycle didn’t continue with my kids. I told them I loved them, I showed them I loved them and I supported them and their dreams. I still do to this very day, but, I am also a Mother who might say well, son since you ask me that’s not the best idea!! But, in the end, they are 47 and almost 41 so they are men with their own children and must make their own life choices. My dad ran, or tried running my life until the day he left this earth and I was 53 years old. He just never understood boundaries, or the fact that I was a Mother, and a Grandmother I was capable. So, when I look back over my life, you better believe I see God’s hands all over it. He saved me from drug addiction at 18, never touched it again! He got me out of some very hard, hurtful, sad, times.
Even with all that said, do you know that there are times when I can’t pray? I can’t find the words because so much is in my mind, my heart is overwhelmed and all I can do is say God, please hear my heart, I can’t speak… He does, He understands that we go through things in our lives that just fill us full of anxieties we can’t speak, we just have to ask Him to hear our brokenness. My God is so good, and I am unworthy of His love, but He loves me anyway. He loves you too. So, there you go, a bit about my life. Just a tiny drop in a large river for you. Have a blessed day.