Strong in Faith and Weak in Love

Oh how many times will my fingers make love to these keys and speak of the same tender soul…? My guess is that it will happen for as long as I have the strength to type. I am the strongest and yet, most weak person I know, and as far as I can tell, it’s never going to change.

I have to fight hard to not be ruled by my emotions in life. I feel big and it can take over at times. My mind says one thing, but it’s like a whisper. Then my heart says another, and it’s a full on roaring scream. My heart is always louder than my mind, and this gets me into some trouble sometimes.

I don’t know how to be any different. I tell my heart to cool it, but she is stubborn and fierce and a force to be reckoned with all on her own. When I care for someone, I feel it with all of my soul. I feel for their hurts and pain, I feel for their big life moments, I feel for their fears, and I always desire seeing and loving the dark parts they keep hidden from the world. I’m a nurturer and a lover to my core and always just want to love other’s hurts whole. It is somehow intensely in my DNA to love others even though I’m so very much cut from a different cloth emotionally from my biological parents.

When I get close to someone, my emotions take on a snowball effect. I start off small and just have a piqued interest. But as a connection grows stronger, my emotions grow with it. The more emotional intimacy there is, the stronger it is. The more physical intimacy is added to that, then the emotion is even stronger. The snowball grows and I lose control over being able to keep my heart in check. My head whispers for me to stop it, but my heart is screaming about my poets soul and being a hopeless romantic and just imagine  all of the wonderful possibilities…. The heart wins. And sometimes–that means the heart hurts.

Do you want to know the craziest part of this all? I never give up. I’ve been hurt deeply so many times, and I just never give up. I’m made to love and so that is what I do. I have a deep-seated faith that it will pay off one day, and maybe even soon. And when it does, it will make every hurt up to that point worth it. Strong in faith and weak in love…that is me.

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Life Lessons In Death Dreams

Years ago, after my daughter passed away, I was diagnosed with PTSD. Sadly, my worst symptom is nightmares. Over the years, it has gotten better, and I don’t suffer from the nightmares nearly as much as I used to, but when they happen, they have a big impact.

I had one last night that was so intense, I thought I was going to throw up from the intensity of the feelings that I woke up with. I had a very detailed dream that I was going to die. In the dream, I knew I had a date coming up that I was going to be killed. I didn’t want to die, but somehow it was going to happen, and I didn’t have a choice. I scrambled trying to get my affairs in order. I dreamt of taking my middle son shopping for all of his favorite clothes. I remember thinking that it didn’t matter how much money I spent because there was nothing I needed money for once I was gone. It brought me joy to see the happiness in his face, and I was trying to memorize every second of our time together hoping I could take it with me in my afterlife. I dreamt of holding my daughter and bawling my eyes out, trying to tell her what was happening and teach her every life lesson I could think of that she would need living without her mama. In the dream, I stayed off of my Facebook until it was time to do my final status to say goodbye to the world, wanting to leave words of wisdom behind. I remember desperately not wanting to leave and not wanting to be without my children, and hoping that in Heaven, the time would pass quickly until they were with me too. I was terrified and full of sadness. In all of this, I was suddenly faced with the fact that I had wasted so much time in my life. My focus hadn’t been where it should be, I hadn’t cherished my children enough, my life was wasted, and it was too late to change anything.

I woke up in tears and breathless this morning, praising Jesus that it was just an awful dream. Even as I write this, there are tears streaming at the memory of how it all felt. I got out of bed and just wanted to hold my kids tightly. As I was driving them to the bus stop this morning, I was thinking about the lessons here. I’m NOT dying right now. While I have wasted time in my life, I can change that now. I can refocus and make the time I have count. I can’t go back and change any of my yesterdays, but I can change today and keep that change up for my tomorrows. Life is not guaranteed, and this nightmare was a lesson in being present here in the present.

A friend of mine posted a status on Facebook this morning talking about similar points as this post, and she said, “You’re sitting there banking at the hope of your tomorrow; an uncertain future. Live your life, now, while there’s time. Stop putting your happiness into a savings account. Spend it, daily, while you still can. Love, now, enthusiastically. It’s the investment with the largest return.”

I can make my time count now. I can watch less television, spend less time on social media, spend more quality time with my kids, spend less time waiting for the weekend and more time finding happiness in each day, and spend less time wallowing in misery and more time working towards goals. We’ve all heard that saying that life is short, and this is true. The older I get, the more quickly the time passes, and I want to make the most of it.

So, okay, Universe, duly noted. Thank you for this necessary reminder. In this death dream, I’m reminded that I need to live life.
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