Meryl's Truths and Mine

 

 

Well said.

I might add:

I have no time for those who cannot extend grace to others; who judge without true insight. I value truth, honesty, and kindness above all in my relationships. Generosity of spirit, as well as resources.

I refuse to pretend that the wrong words and hurtful actions of others have no lasting impact on my spirit. I seek to do no harm, by God's grace and with his guidance, and to endeavor to live in this truth and grace. When I fall short, I will confess and mend my ways; seeking his forgiveness and yours.

Those who make no attempt to humbly right their wrongs and to accept imperfection in themselves and others exhaust me. Gossip and slander are devastating. Pretending otherwise is ingenuous and intolerable. We can be forgiven our trespasses, but still are expected to acknowledge our own as well as to forgive those who trespass against us.

 

 

 

 

 

Writing: Getting to the Best Me

I get crabby if I don't write. Really nasty inside my head, but outside it manifests as short-tempered, impatient, quiet.

Writing is more than cathartic, it's oxygen to my addled brain. Daily, my intellectual world fills up too quickly. Too many visuals, too many words; excessive stimuli. I'm one of those hyper-aware, hunter-gatherers. Indiscriminate; greedy. My overfull brain quickly turns toxic, requiring time, solitude, and rest to flush and sift; store and discard. Writing is my brain organizing, collating, prioritizing.  

You don't want to encounter me when my brain is full; my energy drained. The toxicity is ugly. My words are few, my smile never reaches my eyes. My countenance is strained. And, aging has diminished my capacity for tolerance of small talk; small minds. Stand clear. 

I'm almost fully self-aware; married to a cautious man. I'm extremely verbal. He never has to guess risk factors. I express myself clearly; tell him. He listens. He steps away and respects my temporary boundaries. A wise and gracious man.  

Believe me. When I'm done; I'm done. I can be oh-so polite, but my spring is over-wound. Don't push; don't infer expectations or inflict guilt or attempt shame. 

Step away. I need time, solitude, silence. Rest. The best me is the writer. She's the centered, soul-filled person you want to meet, converse with, and befriend. She's the creative, the artist, the wit. 

The Beatings Never Really Stop

 

Not my story, thank God, but one worthy of documentation and remembrance.

Dating the woman who would become my wife I asked in the course of casual conversation about growing up, “…and remember when you would walk in the door and your dad would knock you to the floor, kicking and hitting and yelling?” She stared at me in stunned silence. There is no normal. The rational has been torn away from your ability to grasp it.

 

Introverts

 

Literacy in America

 

"Illiterate and semiliterate Americans are condemned not

only to poverty, but also to the powerlessness of

incomprehension. Knowing that they do not understand

the issues, and feeling prey to manipulative over-

simplifications, they do not trust the system of which they

are supposed to be the masters. They do not feel

themselves to be attractive participants in our republic,

and they often do not turn out to vote."

 

This Happened Tonight Near Seattle

My brother proposed. He surprised his fiancée by secretly flying from Peoria, IL to Seattle. He'd asked our sister and brother-in-law to invite TH for dinner. They told her PJ had sent a surprise; close your eyes. When she opened them, there he was on bended knee.

 

She said, "Yes." Details are developing toward a November wedding. TBC

 

Best Birthday Gift Ever; A Letter from My Brother

My brother @1965 at approximately 6 years old.
Picture Day.

 

After the email exchange of a few days ago, I didn't hear from my brother. But, he posted this photo on Facebook, indicating he did that for me. Then, I woke up to find the following had been emailed late on my birthday yesterday.

 

Hi M,

Hope it's been a great day with JE's family, grandkids must be a blast. Looking forward to it. I'm sure they take a lot of energy to keep up with.

I wanted to wish you a very Happy Birthday, and yes, I screwed up on the card thing, and no, this is not in lieu of. I just felt the need to express what a great big sister you have been to me. For as long as I can remember you've been doing things for me to make my childhood and beyond a little richer.

I remember you making it possible for me to attend basketball camp at Wheaton College, and taking me horseback riding for the first time. I still have vivid memories of both, and I'm sure I'm leaving out more. Words can't express my gratitude for what you did last year, all the time on the phone, trying to help me keep it together. I was so conflicted in my mind I didn't know what was real. I'm so sorry for what I put you and the rest of the family through, especially last winter. Then when you stood in the gap between hospital and home, well, that was just over the top. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

The email you sent about the picture and my growing up was spot on. Although, I wasn't really raised by wolves; Jesus had a hand in that. Through Sunday School and Christian Endeavor, Bible Club and Vacation Bible School, good neighbors and teachers, He provided just what was needed. Mom instilled a conscience in me that guides me to this day, although I have chosen to ignore it at times it's always there.

I wrote another poem yesterday, a somewhat fictionalized version of some of what I've come through in the last 2 years. I'll share it with you later and you can critique it for me. Part of me has wanted to try my hand at song writing, (country of course) but I'm not sure how my style matches up with how they do it. If nothing else, it seems to be cathartic for me (pretty fancy word for a redneck wanna be, huh?). Hahaha!

Well, (as mom would say) well, thanks again for everything, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

 

My response? A simple, "I love you."

P.s. He ALWAYS sends great birthday cards.