Winter blues means darker days (Pt. 1)

I normally love winter. Winter to me usually means fluffy socks, too much hot chocolate, reading overload and movie overdose but this year, winter is different for me and I would love to know why. 

Winter blues have hit me hard which makes my days seem darker, more depressing, less motivating. Everything in life at the moment seems to suck! Work is a bore, my writing is stuck and my soul is locked in a room with no lights and no heat. 

As I sit in this dark room, my mind is filled with pondering; pondering ideas, pondering about people and pondering about God. Dreams keep me awake from slumber. The window is too high to look out into the horizon and the sun doesn't seem to rise yet the moon and stars twinkle in my eyes encouraging my inner doom and gloom. 

The cold is nibbling at my feet like rats. My breath adds to my misty cloud above my head. My body shakes as my soul darkens like the room. I can hear life happening all around me as a dull hum. My eyes see them smiling amid the rain. I don't get it! I don't get the joy of winter, not this winter. 

At first, I can't talk but then it happens....babble bursts out my mouth to try to return to the light of life. I force the words which flow into sentences but still I want to return to the dark room. I don't why! 

This winter, I am finding comfort in my dark room. The closed, locked door seems unbreakable. I can hear them behind it, the outsiders banging on the door. Their voices are calling me to return to join them in the rays of light. Why can't they leave me alone?

It lies in the far corner behind me. I don't need to see it to know what it looks like. The gold wording shines in the moonlight and burns into my back. Like the outsiders behind the door, this too bangs in my darkness, calling me to return. I want to....I really do but to ask I must want to receive but I'm scared that I actually will get what I want.  And if I get what I want I might not know how to handle it.

I return deeper into my darkness……where my winter blues keep me warm and my darker days gives me morbid comfort.

 

Why am I so sad?

Why am I so upset?

Psalm 42:5

I’m sinking down into the mud,

And there is nothing to stand on.

I am in deep water,

And the flood covers me.

I am tired from waiting

For God to help me.

Psalm 69:2-3

Hazardous Recognition

This past Sunday was Father's Day and a friend of mine on a social media platform started the debate on whether single Mothers should also be recognised on Father's Day for having this parental role as well. Honestly, the remark did sting a bit but it got me questioning this and other things regarding days of recognition.

Personally, single Mothers can be recognised on Father's Day as single Fathers can be recognised on Mother's Day. You ask why? Let me enlighten you. Many single parents have children of the the opposite sex. What I mean is that a single Mom who has a son needs to tap into her masculine side to be able to talk about or if she is really adventurous try some skateboarding, video games, fort building and doing some extreme sports and a single Dad who has a daughter has to also tap into his feminine side enlightening himself about how to handle his little girl becoming a young lady, talk about boys without anger, know the difference between a nice wedge and an awesome heel. Where there are two parents, it is a bit easier to take on these tasks as Mom can often relate to daughter and Dad can often relate to son.

Don't misunderstand me. At no point am I saying that parenting is easy regardless of how many parents are involved but sometimes we all need to know that we are valued for trying to be parents. But is it a necessity?

Let's be honest, as a parent, true recognition comes when our child gives us a goofy smile for no reason, a sticky lollipop hug to say "I love you" and a cuddle in the bed on a cold night. I don't get hurt if I'm not recognised on a particular day because I am recognised as a parent in many other ways. 

So, some of you will be saying so why doesn't the single parent get a Uncle involved or a Aunt involved to help with the difficult "stuff" and yes we could but what if the parent doesn't have anyone they can trust or rely on? What happens if their child is not comfortable talking with someone else except their parent? Could it be said that the single parent is avoiding trying to handle the difficult "stuff"?

As a single Mom, I see the pain in my child's eye when others play with their Dads. She gets so excited too standing on the side lines but she knows she can't join in because it's not her Dad. I try to fill that gap as best I can but deep down, I can't and never will be able to. Uncles try their best to help but they have families of their own and let's be honest, nothing can replace the love of a Mom or Dad even if it is Mom trying to be Dad too. 

The questions I am starting to ask are: Are we taking days of recognition too seriously and getting too technical? Are we applying too much pressure on each other to make sure our recognition is "good enough"? Should we depend on days like this to give us a good reason to acknowledge the important people in our lives? Would we acknowledge them at all, if we didn't have these days of recognition? Are days of recognition becoming more hazardous?

Unknown Waters

We all get scared when we make a life-changing decision because most of the time these decisions make us walk into “unknown waters”. No matter how prepared we are or think we are we’re still not prepared enough.

From this month, I am stepping into the unknown and it excites and terrifies me at the same time. My faith, strength and courage will be tested more than once. In my mind, I am prepared but the heart is yet to be taught and prepared.

The unknown made me think how a Captain must feel. Each time he stands behind the wheel, knowing the vessel inside-out and he floats out into familiar waters but even though the waters feel familiar, it is still unknown to the Captain. The ocean is never the same. The flow of the tides change, temperatures change, sea life changes and even the colour changes and no matter how the Captain is prepared, he must still get slightly anxious returning to the unknown, familiar waters. The waters he loves but respects its unstable behaviour. The Captain is prepared but not yet taught.

How many unknown, unlikely people did God prepare for His work to walk into “unknown waters”? Even Jesus walked into “unknown waters” when God told Him where to go and who to preach to. God prepares us even when we don’t realise it but He allows us to teach our heart to follow him into the “unknown”.

So, in the mid of the scary unknown what do I or we need to do? How do we change our fear of following God’s will into the unknown to the happiness of allowing God to work with us in the unknown?

We focus on our Shepard Jesus who walks alongside us. We pray to our King, God and we listen to our guide, The Holy Spirit. Because in this present, broken world filled with the scary unknown, it’s all we can do.

Even though, we feel alone in the dark, we never are. Many times, we create our own fear, imagining possible events in the unknown. But know this for sure, Jesus, God and the Holy Spirit are with us to teach our heart with our prepared mind.

God is our protection and our strength.

He always helps in times of trouble.

So we will not be afraid even if the earth shakes,

Or the mountains fall into the sea,

Even if the oceans roar and foam,

Or the mountains shake at the raging sea.

Ps.  46:1

PS: I walked into my “unknown waters” and I was intimidated which made me terrified but I won’t stop trying because only God knows whether He wants me there and I have to learn to trust Him because with God, anything is possible!

What If.....

I remember it, like it was yesterday. I can still clearly see it in my mind and feel the intensity in my chest. I loved starting my school day like this. Soft, brown shining eyes and a smile that sent shivers down my spine. His arms felt warm, like home as he naturally pulled me into his embrace. Mmm, he always smelled good. His smell travelled through my nostrils, lingering as my breath gently blew on his neck. We didn’t need permission from each other to touch. We were drawn to each other, every morning. There was no beginning and in our hearts no end.

Our eyes answered the question that couldn’t be spoken and our embraces confirmed the mutual feeling but our mouths couldn’t be convinced to start the conversation. We kept everyone guessing, yet not many asked as we didn’t even know the answer but yet, we did. We weren’t ashamed of showing our feelings. It felt so comfortable, so right. Like a clichéd movie, we didn’t want to risk the friendship and the intimate feeling we had toward each other. We didn’t want the feeling to end. Before we knew it, we had run out of time. We parted with tears in our eyes, a promise in our smile and a silent “what if?”

Now, standing in a semi-crowded house, my “what if” walks in and twenty years later, my breath shallows and vaguely disappears. I wonder if he has ever wondered, ever missed it or even remembers. His face is how I’ve pictured it over the years, more than once. He glances my way, recognising me he smiles that smile that still sends shivers down my spine. His shining soft brown eyes still matches his smile. 

The flutter in my stomach sinks as she walks up to him from behind, their rings shouting “we’re married” from across the room. An unknown love hurts just as much as a lost love. I’m frozen.

The evening flows with friends, food and fun. We haven’t neared each other. I can’t look at him. I just can’t do it. I wonder down the house’s narrow passage into the bedroom where my handbag lies. My breath shallows again as I feel him. The feeling from me hasn’t changed. I turn and look at him. He stares silently at me. Do I see what I think I see? What I want to see?

Forgetting why I’m there, I walk past him but he turns and closes the door in front of me. No escape. I find myself leaning against the closed door, looking up into those soft, brown eyes.

Please don’t come close, I beg with my eyes as he looks at me, ignoring my plea. I look away, scared at what he might see in mine. His closes the gap enough. I want to touch and embrace him like I used to. I want to feel at home. I want to inhale his scent. I want to feel my breath on his neck. He edges even closer, his heat warming my skin. I look up at him as he leans his head down, his familiar untouched mouth mere inches away from mine. Smiling, he whispers, “We haven’t changed, have we?” I suck in my breath as my heart is shouting…..kiss me, touch me and love me. My mind can’t be heard. “You’re married” I mumble back into his mouth.

Brushing his lips ever so lightly against mine, he sighs and replies “I know”. He steps back and I give him space to leave, unable to look into his eyes again. He closes the door behind him, leaving me standing there, leaning against the door. My heart is racing, breath still shallow and my whole body is tingling.

Breathless, I walk out the bedroom, my lips swelling from mere sense of sensuality as I watch his back disappear out the front door with her. It happened again.

What if...

What’s your “what if” story?

My Monday Mutter: Don't accessorise, humanise!

accessory

noun

noun: accessory; plural noun: accessories; noun: accessary; plural noun: accessaries

a thing which can be added to something else in order to make it more useful, versatile, or attractive.

********

Humans are interesting, irritating and difficult to understand sometimes. I know I have said this before but I really wish I could see what others are thinking and why they treat people the way they do. This week-end, once again, I was socialising and watching people's behaviour. Yip, I'm still that weirdo!

It really amazed me how someone can mistreat another in front of others. Why do people allow themselves to be treated as an accessory? Are they so desperate to be with someone that they will allow themselves to be treated so or are they blind to the other person's behaviour?


Personally, I don't get it. On my planet, when two people are together, whether it's a friendship or relationship, they should give each other equal attention. Listen to each other and respect each other. I mean, why keep them around if you don't care for them as much they care for you?

(Writing this.....I've just realised I might have behaved this way and might have just lost a friend because of this - Oh flip! - see we all learn from our mistakes!)

It reminded me that giving is more important than receiving and the more you give, the more you will receive. We all want to be noticed, admired and listened to but we can't expect it especially if the other person is truly self-centred and treats you as an accessory. Are you someone's "thing" to make them seem more "useful or attractive"?

Mid-blog, I also wondered what the definition of the word "accessory" is and so I googled it. After reading it, it made the person's behaviour seem a little bit clearer to me. I started thinking...maybe this person needs another person as an accessory because they don't have a good self image! So, they need someone else to make them look better! And the light bulb switches on in my little head!

Yes, add an accessory like a piece of jewellery, a handbag or a scarf to add a little sparkle to your step or some colour to your outfit but not a person.


I wish this person would stop treating others like a handbag, a glass of wine or a nice meal. In other words, only good enough when he/she is in the mood for the other person and/or needs them for something. I wish this person would feel better about himself/herself because deep down, I'm sure there is God's goodness in them.We all need to realise too, that the way we treat others is the way they will treat us too. Hmmm...lastly, I wonder if he/she realise he/she was created in God's perfect, loving, beautiful image.

In closing....... 

Be liked by others by the way you share your heart and soul....and your actions and words.

Don't be someones accessory, be someones partner!

 

My Jesus is gangster good

My Jesus is gangster good

He walked in sandals around any hood

My Jesus didn't need bling to be seen

He loved the dirty, clean and mean

My Jesus spoke with love and grace

He didn't use drugs and alcohol to get you to see his face

My Jesus didn't carry a gun or dagger

He walked tall with honest swagger

My Jesus sat and ate with anyone

He didn't need to know where you've been or what you've done

Why do you feel the need to join a gang to be "hood"?

Why do you want to shed blood to be "good"?

Why do you hurt and harm to be "seen"?
Why do you want colours to "look mean"?

If Jesus didn't need to be a real gangster to be "phat"

Why can't you change to be all "that"?

If Jesus didn't need to be a real gangster to be "the man"

Why can't you quit and let Him be your plan?

My Jesus is gangster good

Allow Him into your heart and hood.