When Life Presents Struggles You Didn't See Coming

Life has its hurdles...

No one is exempt from experiencing the pain of missing someone; at some point in our lives, we'll all experience loss in one form or another.

I have lived a long life and now find myself to be closing in on the finish line. I have regrets. I have had times of surrender, and times of refusal to surrender. I've had times of not knowing exactly what surrender would look like...or even if it was a requirement in order to live a life where peace was even remotely possible.

For the most part, my adult life has provided me freedom to follow my hearts desire. I became accustom to that solid foundation, knowing I was respected and had the assurance of being trusted. Yet, as time disappears, it occasionally feels as if that doorway to freedom is quietly closing shut. I have begun to notice it happening more frequently now, and I'm feeling a bit trapped with no visible exit strategy...no hope of change. I can't envision it getting better. Only worse as time evolves.

I'm a runner.

The fight or flight reflex has been strong inside me since I was 9 years old, and has only gotten stronger as age over-takes me. Fear became a cautionary tale early in life, and it consumed me. My triggers are many...

Looking back, if I could tell my younger self anything, it would be, "Be bold. Stand your ground. Refuse mediocrity and those who would try to control you for their own gain."

Running from something is only good when you're in danger. Mentally, or physically. Running, however, creates enough fear where it's hard, if even possible, to ever trust another person fully. Running will make sure you never have a natural foundation to build upon. Running creates loneliness. Because runners are without family. 

Running toward something...something that will grow you into the person you were created to be...well, that's another story. Facing adversity. Facing difficult places...running towards the roar that is trying to create fear, just might create resilience. Facing and conquering our demons will give us wings to fly. Using that adversity...that same storm...to lift us higher than the injustice of it will give us eyes to see beyond the storm.

It's for the courageous, not for the weak or timid. The timid will shrink back. The bold will conquer.

There are different ways to run, however.

The mental way is just as entrapping, or as liberating (depending on which way one chooses to run), as the physical one. "Choose your poison," it's been said. Running away from, mentally embeds fear that grips your thoughts and pulls every negative "what if" inside your thinking. Peace can't be found there when all that commotion is happening. Running towards, hard though it may be, provides strength to face another day, with possible solutions showing themselves true.

And just as fear builds, so does strength. We must choose which direction to run...

I know why people want to feel wind beneath their feet. Or "beneath their wings" as the song goes. I know why freedom is so important. Because I have been bound...both mentally, and physically. I've seen the dark side of life, and I've witnessed the side where light pierces that darkness.

But...the mountain I have recently encountered comes from a rope that would entangle me again.

At this point in my life, I need to be free of past entanglements. Free of demands. Free of expectations. Free to live. Free to be me. Free to make my own choices, and free to face my own consequences. Free...

I realize such a desire may sound selfish. It may sound as if I want to shirk responsibilities. To not care about anyone other than myself. I do realize that.

But you would be wrong to think that is what I want. I love responsibilities. I love being wanted, needed, useful, and having purpose. I love a solid foundation. I love being seen by those I care the most about. Without that...I want to run.

Simply stated, I must be free to come and go as I please, without being weighted down by what anyone else may think of my choices as to where I should, or should not go and how I should divide what time I have available to me, with whomever, or wherever, someone else thinks I should spend that time. Must I deny my own choices, for someone elses?

I've walked that path already. Many, many years ago. I will not be entrapped by it again.

If I have only 3 days to use as I see fit, I need to not have quilt laid on me because I don't choose to use a portion of those short three days, away from my destination...from the only time I have for those I rarely see (it's been many years for a few of them) and will most likely never see again this side of heaven. Just to use it for being somewhere other than with them. 

When anyone tries to impose their ways upon me, tension mounts, triggers begin going off, and my fight or flight kicks in as my body responds internally. It begins to crumble, feel weak, and often nauseous. 

Danger signals spark inside me telling me this night will be a restless one. Don't fall asleep. Stay alert. You're on your own. The next phase is coming...

Even though there really is no need for all this to be happening, the small signals that trigger memories find their way in. And the mountain that has presented itself (again), I have to climb (again). And I am weary of it asking for another round.

The most tiring of all? It's always my fault. "Why are you like this?" It's as if something is wrong with me, and their words, their expectations, thrown out is not the problem. It's just me. I'm the problem. 

This kind of coercive control can't be reasoned with. It's as if their expectations are more important than the very reason I need to focus on where my time should be spent.

Whatever happened to kindness? Why are we so very kind to perfect strangers (or friends), but not to those we claim to love? To those we have vowed to cherish above anyone else.  

What has become of reason?  

Runner? Only in my mind. I'm faithful, if nothing else. My feet stay because they wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I stay because I would never intentionally hurt those I love, regardless of the times of contention. I stay because I know my fears. I know where they come from. And I know my triggers. 

They will follow me, no matter where I find myself to be.

But so will God...

"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." ~Isaiah 40:31

Missing my confidants, as always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

#myjourneyamongtheunseen #lifeissues #theforgottenway 

What Crumbled Your Cookie?

Something I have noticed over these past 7 (almost 8) decades of living, is that regret is a tough cookie to un-crumble. One can't change the past, from where the actions took place that caused regret to settle into our bones. That's why it's a wound that doesn't seem to ever heal.

We can use the tired, old adage, "I'm not perfect; I'm only human," to excuse our past (or present) behavior, but we all know that is only refusing to accept responsibility for our actions, or lack thereof. It's a conversation that gets old the more we have to address it. If we could just take responsibility for our actions, apologize if necessary and begin to restore trust, then possibly the crumble will stop and regret would become less prominent in our lives.

Whole cookies seem to taste sweeter. Right? They seem to be tastier, more satisfying. Wouldn't you agree? Better than if they have been crumbled. Yet, adversity does have its advantages. It trains us, prepares us, matures us. Even though it's not always a good thing, it can also cause disparity, feelings of loneliness, unworthiness, and self-image issues that accompanies a "less-than" image. To rise above it, we must see the value that is within us. Not only to ourselves, but to those around us. We must learn to walk upon the injustices of a life lived without purpose. There is, most definitely, value in the crumbled cookie. Much like a cracked pot, that light shines through.

For instance: Have you ever enjoyed a scoop of ice cream with crumbled cookies added to it? Have you ever been grateful for the last crumbled pieces, swiped off the counter, when needing something sweet to cut the sting of hot salsa? How about being allowed to have the last crumble of a broken cookie? Metaphorically, there are times we may feel like a crumbled cookie because of being the target of abuse...yet, all we have to remember is that our sweetness extends beyond what it was when we were whole.

The flip of this coin, is that we remain a victim of what we felt to be injustice. Not only does it keep us from what God intended for our lives, but it also causes us to continue the behavior that caused us to be broken in the first place. We can run, but we can't hide. And, at some point, we will have to face truth and break a cycle if need be, of what was. Allow ourselves to be different. To be whole, renewed. To be grateful...

For restoration, we must first take responsibility for what caused the regret in the first place, or place it where it belongs. There is no need to explain why we did, or said, the things that wound. That is only an action to protect ourselves and is seen as us saying it really wasn't our fault. "Because of blah, blah, blah, I did this (or that)." No. Stop making excuses for the why. Take responsibility!

There may be no place of forgiveness for what we have caused, but we must move forward if there is to be any resemblance of a life well lived. To correct our steps...our thoughts that create action, is to say and do every good thing possible; to do and say and express this to those we love. Daily. Break the cycle of bad behavior. Because there isn't always time to whisper good-bye. To allow love to be seen, and felt, is good. It's what keeps us focused...because there isn't always time to whisper good-bye.

Grateful for the grace I have received, and the opportunity to love deeply, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

You Still Have Time...

"You still have time." 

That's what we keep telling ourselves. And maybe we do. But maybe we don't. The truth is...we never really know.

Time isn't generous. It doesn't pause. It doesn't warn. It slips through our fingers quietly, like sand...soft, silent, and unstoppable.

We measure our lives in years, in birthdays, in milestones. But life isn't made of years. It's made of moments.

And the hardest part is...we don't know how many moments we have left.

You might have a hundred more sunsets to watch, or only three. You might hear your mother's voice on the phone a thousand more times, or maybe you've already heard it for the last time...you don't even know.

You might get one more chance to say, "I forgive you." Or none.

You might still have time to hold your child while they're small, while their arms still fit perfectly around your neck, while they still say "I love you" without needing a reason. But those moments pass. Quietly. And once they're gone, they don't come back.

We live like we are invincible. We make plans as if time is endless. We say, "I'll do it later." "I'll call them next week." "I'll chase that dream when things settle down."

But what if they never do?

What if tomorrow never comes? What if the life you're waiting to live is passing you by right now, this very second?

What if this moment---this exact one---is the last chance you have to say what matters most? To hold someone you love without distraction. To cry without shame. To laugh without holding back. To be fully alive?

This isn't meant to make you afraid. It's meant to make you aware.

Because there is nothing more tragic than realizing too late that you were sleepwalking through the days that could have changed everything.

So please...wake up.

Look up from the screen. Call someone you miss. Apologize if you need to. Say the words you've been swallowing. Do the thing that terrifies you but lights a fire in your soul.

Stop waiting for the "right" time. That time is now. Right now. This breath. This heartbeat.

You don't need more time. You just need to stop wasting the time you already have.

Because in the end, it's not the years you'll remember. It's the conversations, the embraces, the risks, the tears, the laughter, the love. The moments.

So live for them. Cherish them. Protect them.

Because life isn't measured by how long you live...it's measured by how deeply you feel, how boldly you love, and how fully you show up while you're still here.

And you're here. So make it count.

Still learning to capture the moments in time, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Guest Author: Sufia Jamil (found on FaceBook)...too good not to share!!! 

Pictures by: Lindsey Lewis...(daughter and photography creator extraordinaire) 

I Feel Lost Without Her

I woke early this morning. That's not unusual, these days. Upon deciding I should at least try for more rest, I headed back to bed as thoughts began playing tag in my head. Review of the last few days began a panorama of floating thoughts and words spoken that I wish I could retrieve and choose differently. It's been said (more than a few times), not to dwell on the past unless you want today to lose its gift to you. Or something like that...

As tears fill my eyes, I begin to revisit the last time Gramps and I picked our girl up from school, and how that went. It was this past Monday and she wasn't in the best of moods. Something had happened that day while playing with a couple of friends. She wasn't ready to talk about it, so we didn't. Still, I wanted to help her out of the funk it had put her in, and suggested stopping for fries and a sweet tea at McDonalds, on our way home. She turned it down. First sign this was serious.

After a few minutes, I tried engaging once again, hoping to lighten the mood. Mistake number 1. One would think having this amazing creature in our lives for more years than we deserve, one would know when to just sit quietly and let her work through the emotions wrecking her sweet spirit. But...well...anyone who knows me, knows my mouth frequently forgets to listen to the brain that supplies it with wisdom. Mistake number 2.

We pulled into the parking area of where I have a small business that invites one to come in and relax, breathe easy, and enjoy some down time. It had been awhile since she visited the salon and her momma was wanting her to have a treatment on those beautiful curls that swing and bounce as she walks. I think we were both looking forward to it. But, as fate would have it, it was time for a challenge. A bump in the road. A small hill to climb over. A storm cloud hover. Second sign this was serious. And, until that was successfully solved, nothing would/could, make her happy. Except possibly her momma (I still wish for my momma, at times). This just wasn't a day for relaxing. Yet...

We decided, and she agreed, we should just head for the hills of Apex, and re-schedule salon time. I couldn't understand why her favorite person in the world, aka/me, didn't have the power to put a smile on that beautiful little face. Don't believe that last sentence. Her momma is the most favorite person in her world. I just like to daydream and pretend on occasion, and I was doing just that last Monday. Mistake number 3.

On the way home, some things were spoken that should never have been, and now the price is being paid for those misspoken, released words. They were words that might cause her to feel as though I didn't love her. That I just didn't understand. She said I didn't. And I truly didn't. Words that couldn't be erased were offered up in quiet frustration. The biggest mistake of all! And now, my heart is sick. 

I do know that love covers a multitude of sin. I hope, as young as she is, she will remember all the fun times we've had together, as she lays her head upon her pillow at night. All the laughs, the hugs, the solving of the world's problems we've shared. The backyard, fun-filled days, that I will never forget. I hope she remembers that it is she who puts the lift in my steps, the light in my eyes. Not many has the power over me that she does. A few, but not many. Maybe I hold her to too high a standard. 

So here I wait, for the next hug allowed...in Mary's World.

P.S. She made us this cute little owl (her favorite creature, at the moment), for Grandparents Day at her school. Made from her own imagination...