Yesteryear- the good, bad and really ugly.

Yep… the days have gone by. Time has flown, literally.

I am older. Wiser. .. .and that’s where the positives end in this race against time.

I am old. I feel parts of my body, that I didn’t even know existed.

Can 30 really do this to you? It plays with my emotions, it makes me realize I will not always be able. It is glorious.

You like how I spun that, although all of the above is true; aging bites… yup, I said it.

When I think back… back farther, a little farther just a touch farther… oh yes, there is my hair… I see it first because it’s huge. There is a poof of sorts at the front of my face. A big fake blonde “poof”- I wish I could type that word as an action! Maybe you would really get the effect of the poof.

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My mother, God bless her was a beautician. Yep a great one who has kept me out of the salon for 30 years. (I have gone 2 times to be perfectly honest-in 30 years-just in case someone calls the bluff-, “hey do you remember that one time”… 2 times. Total.)

She began perming my hair when I was like 7? I am guessing but I was young, really young. To this day, I love a good perm, a nice loose ringlet spirally thing, it gives my flat hair body and makes me feel purty.

Mom also introduced me to the poof at a young age. There are photos and I will show some, although most will forever stay locked away and most definitely out of my brothers reach! Ironically, I had to go to him for this photo. The 80’s weren’t kind to us. He agrees. But between the 80’s and early 90’s we had a good thing  going on.

We had a house on a street- a real neighborhood thing. Little 3 bedroom rancher- I call this house little because after living there for 9 years or so we built a house. A biggun’ on family property not even a 1/4 mile away… That big house holds many memories; but there was something about that little house, something special. In that little house I learned what Faith was. “The evidence of things unseen”, as they say.

I am a product of a divorced home with a twist.  I grew up in church. A Pentecostal church. I never remember not knowing who Jesus was or what it was to be in relationship with Him. My dad has an incredible voice. I wish I was able to share it with the world, you would love it too. He has a cross between Josh Groban meeting George Strait while talking to Josh Turner. It’s a broad mix because his range was incredible… I am getting sidetracked by his melodious tone, sorry.

We went to church every Sunday when I was little, between birth and 4 for me and birth and 2 for my brother with our parents. My mom is a woman of faith. She is my example and why I stand so firmly for marriages in crisis. My dad left when I was 4 and Keith was 2. He had battled homosexuality for what he says, all of his life. He left my mom to pursue that lifestyle, and while it was a terrible time, I know that the basis of my faith began off of that experience. My mom would grab my brother and I and we would sit at the end of the hallways in out home and pray. We prayed and prayed, and it happened. He came home. He stayed with us another 8 years, living free of that life until I was 12.

I was sheltered as a child. I hear stories so often of people who lived wide open lives, not even necessarily wild or anything extravagant, just eyes open to all around them. Keith and I definitely were shielded from a great many things. Thanks Mom. 🙂

I was in my parents office one day and found a paper my mom had written, more of a journal entry, of why God had allowed her to be married to a gay man. I knew it was not a good thing because of the look on her face when I brought it to her, but I didn’t have any understanding of what it meant. My dad came home and cried and hugged me a lot and told me he was afraid I would hate him. In that beautifully innocent moment, I swore, “I could never hate you daddy”.

Then it happened, my dad of course battled with this issues severely; leaving a very confused and hurting woman wondering what it was with her, and 2 kids caught in the crossfire; and my mom found someone who made her happy. You can read more about him in a previous post. Don’t misunderstand me, they didn’t fight in front of us, ever until the last fight. We weren’t caught in harsh or angry words, we were caught in a home where physical touch wasn’t common between our parents. I can’t remember seeing my mom and dad kiss, hug, or cuddle. I feel such sorrow as a grown married woman for what my mom went through to keep our home together, she sacrificed her feelings to stay married, to fight for something that today is tossed aside like an old wardrobe, and she did it in uncommon circumstances. Eventually she grew too weary to continue fighting.

When you have battled to the point that you feel unable to keep fighting, find someone who shares your beliefs who will stand with you in prayer, and you pray until you fall asleep every night if you have too. You find someone who speaks encouragement into your life, someone who has stood the test and fought back and won. Find a believer- not just in Jesus but in you and your spouse. If anyone is saying give up and move on, tune them out and put them away for this season of your life. There are generations standing in the balance, begging you to stand strong when the current is too rough.

Marriage is precious. It is so very hard, but it is precious. It is ordained by God between a woman and a man. It is a sacred covenant. There is no weapon greater than your marriage in the hands of the Kingdom or the enemy. I watched my mom fight. I saw her struggle and hold her head high when people told her she was crazy to take him back. I saw her endure, and she taught me that I can endure much as well. I can believe that Jesus alone is my source, He is my joy and my happiness, and when my marriage hits the rocks under the surface of the water, and it does; Believe me, it does- I have to go back to the roots of who I am. Blood bought by Jesus to live a full life, with the man I chose to spend my life with, creating a legacy for generations behind me of courageous fighters. Seeing my great grandchildren walking hand in hand with their spouse because I would not give in- it makes today’s fight worth it.  couple-holding-hands

I spent years beating my dad with God’s word, which as we all know, does nothing but promote division. I then spent years loving him where he was spending time with him and praying that the Lord would move in his heart, and now I am spending what looks to be years without him, because he has chosen to live his life without his children and grandchildren. I pray for him and love him so much, and believe that the Lord is going to move in him again someday. To draw him back into a warm embrace, I am grateful that he gave me my foundation. He trained me to believe that the Bible was the inspired word of God, that I am valuable, and worth great price to Jesus who gave it all to give me life, and that love comes with great cost and intense vulnerability, it is credit given with no promise of re-payment. It is divine in nature and is ushered in by He who is Love, God.

Do you have a history that isn’t so pretty, one you don’t share with just anyone? I encourage you to share with those you trust, sometimes speaking or writing about painful times in your life has a very positive effect and can promote an inner healing.

When we let others see our junk, our pain, and yuckiness something beautiful happens, the light comes in and God is able to move.sunrise

Have faith today- God is in the little hallways in your house. 🙂

Blessings,

Mel

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