Are you for God?

This morning, a question popped into my head.

‘Are you for God?’

I immediately replied, ‘Yes, of course. That’s a dumb question’

But then I’ve been thinking about it all day. Am I really for God or do I just do the surface level ‘good’ things in hopes to earn points from the ‘big guy up there’ so that he’ll be ‘nice’?

I’ll give an example. A few weeks ago, I prayed to God for the restoration of a friendship that was on rocky grounds. That night, the friend reached out to me and surprisingly, I wasn’t excited. It turns out I really didn’t want that friendship to be mended. I just wanted to be the ‘good’ person in God’s eyes. But we can’t mock God.

Oh, another example is my constant search of how close I get to doing the wrong things without actually doing them. How long can stay angry for? I waited until I was about to sleep before I replied that friend – because the bible says ‘don’t let the sun go down on your anger’. I was more worried about going to hell if I didn’t wake up the next day than keeping the peace.

How revealing is too much for my clothes? How vulgar is too vulgar? This one is a huge one – how far away is too far to love someone from? I can literally quote bible verses and tell you all Jesus did to validate my reason for cutting off relationships. Proverbs 4:23 is my absolute fave verse; ‘Above all else, guard your heart’. And my favourite sentence to pull out? – ‘Jesus wasn’t friends with the Pharisees. He loved them from afar‘.

While these verses/interpretations are valid, I made them the bedrock of my lifestyle. I ascribed this attitude toward wisdom but have recently realized that they were excuses. What happened to the numerous verses about loving like Jesus loved us? If Jesus was loving me from as far away as I was loving people I would be wretched. And what about the verse about forgiving others seventy times seven times a day?

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Crashing down.

It’s eleven days until the year 2018 ends. Last month, I started writing my last post for the year. I wrote about how the year started rough for me and the roller coaster of emotions I experienced; the fact that I cried more than half of the time and had suicidal moments. But then I switched about halfway through my draft and began to write of how I rose above it all and how I’m a much better person who has learnt to live, to love, to forgive, to grow and learnt to accommodate.

I wrote about my newly found love for hugs and embraces; for the sun and bright colours; for people and their individualities. I wrote about my intentional approach to relationships with people and how my resolve to have open and honest conversations had made me a better person.

But last night, I came crashing down – HARD. I realized that I hadn’t really overcome like I thought I had. All the thoughts and fears I had struggled with for years came rushing back at 2 am, and I panicked. My chest hurt and I suddenly could not breathe. At that moment, I thought I was going to die. Not like it mattered to me.

So maybe I’m not really ‘healed’ or ‘grown’ like I had thought, but I would not sit here and say that there has not been some progress; that would be a lie. I’ve had great days this year, I’ve met great people, explored new places, laughed my butt off and felt a real sense of identity. I even let myself have a little crush – LOL! I know, it’s almost unbelievable that a makanaki like me would fall. Maybe I’ll tell you guys about it one day.

There have been tears; tears that would have probably filled a pool if I kept them. There have been times of distress, discomfort, sickness, pain and near surrender. And as much as I love to be hard on myself, today, I’d like to show a little love to myself. I’ve shown great strength and resilience to the bullshit life has offered me. I’m just here, hoping and praying for complete healing and a higher knowledge of my worth in the next year. If that’s even possible.

Merry Christmas and a happy new year guys! Don’t forget to laugh at serious moments.

Bold-ish

Dealing with loss

I’d be the first to let you know that I haven’t really dealt with the death of my mother. I have buried it deep down and haven’t come to terms with it. 

I honestly haven’t cried that I lost her.

I’ve cried that she didn’t get to see my husband and tease him, cried that my children wouldn’t be able to receive her kisses and unending love, cried for the people that depended on her, cried that I couldn’t save her. 

But not once have I cried that the only person I have loved with all of my heart is no longer here with me. That I would no longer have air kiss competitions after she told me she loved me at the end of our phone conversations. I haven’t cried that I wouldn’t hear her call me ‘pretty babe’ while caressing my face or take a jab at my small bum and squeeze it.

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Back rubs

The back pains started again yesterday.

It was a sad day.

If this happened last year, I’d have comforted myself in the fact that my mother would be back soon to give me her healing back rubs.

“Just a few more months. Be patient”

There was nothing to comfort myself in yesterday. Knowing that I’d never feel her tender, yet firm hands kneading my back and sharing in my pain with her words.

But I’m comforted in the fact that there’s a God who loves me more than my mum could have ever been capable of. So he’ll give me those back rubs when I need them. He’d not only share my pain, but he’d also take them away completely.

I have to learn to trust in his love and realize that he’s enough for me.