It's Been A Year But I'm Still Here

And what a year it has been.

Hey there readers. My apologies for being M.I.A. for over a year. My life has been interesting, to say the least, for these last 524 days. So much to share. Unfortunately 95% of it has been a complete and total nightmare. Where to start? I guess at the beginning, hunh?

This tragedy, (and I'm not being dramatic, total poop show ahead) began to unfold on my birthday in 2018. My maternal unit forgot my birthday. How does a person forget the anniversary of the day that they pushed out an 8 lb 5 1/2 oz bundle of awesome, especially since that bundle of awesomeness picked her up, drove her to church, and was talking about said birthday along the way? I'll tell you how. Dementia.
Yes, ladies and gents, this was the first sign of the tsunami that was about to obliterate my life. From here things started going down hill. Slowly at first, then out of nowhere, the train went off the rails quickly. She began forgetting her keys and getting locked out of the house. The neighbors, bless their hearts, were helping her get into the house and keeping her not so little secret. Unbeknownst to me, she was looking herself out on a regular basis. She actually went to the supermarket one day and left the groceries on the bus. Didn't find out about that until 5 months later. Would have helped if I had known about it when it happened, but she sweet talked the neighbors into not telling me.
Bless. Their. Hearts.
Oh look at that, it's starting to drizzle.

After I got a call for the 2nd time in 3 months that she had locked herself out again, I hid a set of keys in her wallet and told her they were there just in case. 2 weeks later, I get a call that she had locked herself out again. The neighbor across the street saw her sitting on the front steps. Just sitting there. Don't know who she was waiting for, but thank God the neighbor saw her. She took her into her house, found her cell phone in her purse, and called me at work. So glad I hid those keys in her wallet. I asked the neighbor to look in the wallet for the spare set and she let the maternal unit back into the house.That was strike three. I left the extra keys with the neighbor just in case.
Meanwhile, the eldest sibling came down to take the maternal unit to the doctor. The diagnosis was now official. She has dementia. Now here's the kicker. She had been lying for MONTHS about going to the doctor and getting her prescriptions refilled. Turns out the doctor had not seen her in 6 months. She was supposed to go every 2. Aaaargh!!!. She said she was going to the pharmacy to pick up her refills. Also a BIG FAT LIE. She hadn't had them refilled in 3 months. Double Aaaaarrrggggghhh!!!! The doctor told us that it was still early, but we, as in the siblings, would just need to call her in the morning and in the evening to check on her.
The gentle rain had now become a downpour.
She was one hell of an actress. She had stopped going to her church and would go to church with me on Saturdays. Acted perfectly normal. Held it together long enough to get through service for a good long time. But, there were more secrets. She had stopped hanging out with her best friend. Not calling anyone. If you wanted to talk to her you had to call. I would go to her house every Thursday morning to take out the trash. At first she would least have it out on the porch ready for me to take down. Then one day she apparently started to get it together and then just left it half done on the floor. The next week, she was just in bed, got nothing together at all. Already late for work (keep in mind that I work an hour and a half away), I just ran through the house, got the trash together, asked if she was OK, and kept it moving. I called when I got to work to ask her what the deal was. She just said she was tired and hadn't been sleeping well. I let it go for the moment because I had to get back to work.
On the way home I stopped through to take the recycling bucket back in. She hadn't showered and was still just sitting in bed. Something smelled funny. I check the bathroom. Oh for the love of all that is holy and righteous! The tub was a disgusting mess. The drain stopper must have fallen and she couldn't figure out how to reopen it. The water was almost to the top of the tub and it hadn't been drained in God only knows when. WTF?!?!?! Well, guess we know why she hadn't showered.
I ran over to the big box home and garden store with the orange logo, bought heavy duty cleaners, gloves, and whatnot and went back to her house to clean up the mess. It took 4 hours. I didn't get back to my place until after 11 PM.
Is that thunder I hear in the distance?
The next morning, I ran down to wake her up before I left for work and told her that she better be  up and showered when I get home. 10 hours later, I stop by. She had showered and washed her hair. She was having a moment of clarity. Finally, progress. The next day she went to church with me, still appeared to be in her right mind. Appeared being the key word. The next Friday was Good Friday and her bestie offered to pick her up and take her to church and lunch. They had a good day. Maybe the drugs are finally kicking in. False sense of security meet complete sh!t show.
Lightening! Run for cover!
Easter Sunday.We were supposed to go to 6AM service. I was outside waiting and waiting and waiting. I called. The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally she picks up. She doesn't want to go. Fine. I leave and tell her to be ready to go to her church at 1:30 PM. I call on my way to come get her. She doesn't feel like it. OK, I'm done. She needs to get out of that house and fast. All of these events were reported to the siblings. The scramble beings.
70 MPH winds.Oh boy.
The next day I call her from work to let her know that I will stop by the house on my way home. I pull up to the house and there she is getting picked up out of the bushes by the next door neighbor and another good Samaritan. She was disheveled, her wig was half on, and she was wearing the same clothes from Good Friday. Houston, we officially have a problem. I get her back in the house. Go check the fridge and her meds. She hadn't been eating or taking her prescriptions even though she had been telling us that she had when we called everyday. I brought her some food and water to her room. Watched her eat. Made sure she was settled and called the siblings. It was agreed that she was to be confined to the house until the weekend and I had to go by everyday. Thursday morning, trash duty, check on her, get her food and drink, run to work. I get a call while I'm on lunch from the eldest sibling telling me to get to the maternal units house because she had fallen. I rush home and find her sitting on the floor just picking her nails. She had wet herself and was sitting in it like nothing was wrong. Called 9-1-1. They took her to the hospital. She never got back to the house after that.
Here comes the hurricane!
She was admitted to the hospital. Tests  revealed that the she had encephalopathy or water on the brain. Her brain was drowning and  a lot of the cells were already dead. No idea where it came from but it progressed very quickly. Because of her age and declining health, putting in a stint was out of the question. She could not be left alone. She could not go back home. To the nursing home she went. At first she was local and it was under the guise of rehab. We had to scramble to get her to sign a POA before she was completely incapacitated. After two months in a nursing home in Philly, the eldest sibling found her a spot out in Chambersburg. Finally, for the first time in my adult life, I was no longer responsible for her. Or so I thought.
150 MPH winds, rain, flooding.
She had no plan. She had no money. We had to sell that piece of crap house fast. No one came to help me clean it out except for my friend Sonja. Because it required a total clean out, we only got $12.5K for it. The $5K plus that I had already paid out of my pocket for her insurance and medical bills? Yeah, that's a total loss. I had to liquidate my IRA to pay for her care. I am now in debt to the IRS over $1K in penalties. It is a year later. She has no more money The monthly fee for the nursing home is $6K. She only gets $2400 from SocSec and her pension. Do the math. Yup. We are hella screwed. She's been in the hospital 6 times in the last 12 months. Infections. A stroke. Other issues.   She can no longer walk, is talking infrequently, and on soft foods.  Fortunately, and this is going to sound bad but, she is now in hospice care. I'm praying for 'that' phone call to come sooner rather than later. She has not been herself for over a year now. She is no longer there.

So now you see why I haven't written in 524 days. I've been a little busy. My finances are a mess. The job is still and hour and a half away because the money I would have used to move is gone. And top it all off, my car is not happy. Still hella single. Gained all of my weight back because I hurt my ankle last year and never really healed. I'm also dealing with major depression and had not so positive thoughts and ideas more than a few times. I'm seriously just over this and literally sick and tired of being sick and tired.
The only reason I have hung on this long is because I am trusting God for a miracle and breakthrough. Have I had doubts? Hell yeah I have. Every single day. He knows where I am and how much I can take before I give up. Praying this will turn around. He doesn't move quickly but He can move suddenly. But until that happens, I'm still here...for now.
 

You’ve Got A Choice

I am 100% down to the bone marrow pure I cry I thee sold out for the cause of Christ.

The God I serve, the Jesus who died and rose on the 3^rd day, the Holy Spirit who guides me, the Holy Trinity is not about that foolishness. The God I serve is a God of peace, love, giving, and forgiveness. That is why I am sold out for Him. He gave it all for me so how can I not? Yet for some odd reason, that statement bothers people. 

With the emergence of the whole “conservative Christian right” or as they like to call themselves “evangelical Christians”, I can somewhat understand. Much of what they stand for can hardly be called Christian, and sure as Hades is hot there is nothing right about it. Hate, racism, greed…nothing that my Savior stands for or died for. When they use Christianity to push their agenda it burns my biscuits. Argh! That is not the same Christ I represent. Not in the least.

If you ever read the comment sections of any posts written by any pastor or church leader, legit or not, you will come across some of the most hateful, insulting, and ignorant messages. People calling believers idiots and naïve. How dare those simple-minded Christ loving folks live their lives believing in a God they can’t see? How dare those Jesus followers hurt their feelings by exhibiting faith in Someone they can’t touch? How dare believers want to pray for someone else and exhibit compassion and forgiveness? It’s like people of faith are a personal affront to their sensibilities. But why? Why are non-believers so offended?

No, I don’t want to party like I used to, I don’t need to do that to be happy. No I don’t want to smoke or drink or shoot up or whatever. That just doesn’t do it for me. Sleeping around and bed-hopping only leaves pieces of my soul all over the place and makes me less whole. No thank you. None of those things are good for me anyway, whether I believed in Jesus or not. My wanting to live a holy life is my business. Why does my faith hurt your feelings? I seriously don’t get it. 

I Corinthians 15:19 (NLT) – “And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world.”

Be that as it may, I still follow Christ. That is my choice. No one is holding a gun to my head telling me Who to believe in and how to pray. No one is making me attend my church and love it. No one is forcing me to bring my tithe and offering. I freely choose to do these things. Why? Because I know what Jesus did for me. I know He is real. I met Him for myself. To be perfectly honest, I know without a doubt that I would be dead or in jail today if it had not been for the mercy and grace of God.

My life is my ministry. I am not one to push an agenda on anyone. Either you choose to believe or you don’t. Would it bring me joy if you decided to make Jesus your choice? Yes, but I’m not going to twist your arm. It has to be your choice, just like it was mine.

I would rather follow Jesus and get to the end of this life and be right than to not follow Him and be wrong. The ramifications are eternal. I don’t like temps over 80 degrees so an eternity in hell is not exactly the location I’m shooting for.  

Hey, you’ve got a choice. It’s all on you. “But if you refuse to serve the LORD, then choose today who you will serve. Would you prefer the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates (the gods of your past)? Or will it be the gods of the Amorites in whose land you now live (greed, hate, lying, death and destruction)? But as for me and my family, we will serve the LORD.” Joshua 24:15 NLT (italics mine)

You're So Fancy

I’ve been studying church culture and habits for years. Being raised in the church but having a brain wired for critical thinking, that’s just what I do. Things that congregations do, not because they are biblical, but because either ‘everyone else is doing it’ (the new fad) or ‘it’s what we’ve always done’ have always both fascinated and irked me. My current study has been on dressing up for church. 
Why do people insist that God is impressed with men wearing a suit and tie and women wearing a dress, skirt, and heels? Do people even know why they dress up? My guess is no, it’s just what they’ve always known. Well let me educate you.
Dressing up started in the Anglican Church as a way to separate the rich from the poor. Only the rich could afford fancy clothes, therefore only the rich were worthy to attend church. The poor could not read which means they could not study the bible for themselves. The only way they could get access is if someone taught them outside of the church walls. Thankfully there were some good, honest preachers and ministers that actually cared about spreading the Gospel to the common man.
Fast forward to the 1600 and 1700’s. It’s the New World – YAY!!! Let’s leave England and go to this new country where we killed off some folks and took their land. Oh and let’s make a pit stop down by Western African to pick to up some slaves with us for the ride. We got persecuted back home so we’ll start our own churches. We’re the rich ones now so we have to dress up for church. And them slave folk can’t read so we’ll teach them what we want them to know, but not everything. They sure enough can’t dress up for church so they won’t ever hear the real truth. Thankfully there were some good, honest preachers and ministers that actually cared about spreading the true Gospel to EVERY MAN and teaching them slave folks to read.
Fast forward 245+ years to the end of slavery. Negroes now have churches of their own, can read and hear the Word for themselves. Just one thing. Let’s keep separating ourselves and dressing up for church. That way the better off Negroes will get better seats and better treatment. Your fancy dress and hat, your spiffy suit and tie mean that you are closer to Jesus. He’s impressed with your clothes you know.
Reverence for God. That is another spin that is being put on this lately. We have become a people who take God too casually. I can see that, in a sense. But that is an American thing, not a what you are wearing thing. The casual heart and casual mentality is on the inside. Are you telling me that someone who is homeless or can’t afford fancy clothes but loves the LORD with all their heart is taking God casually? I have actually seen the opposite to be true. It is the affluent and privileged that more often have a lackadaisical view of their relationship with the LORD.
Hold up. Let me back up a bit. Who am I even to say what someone else’s relationship is like? That’s not my place. My job is to preach the word, live a genuine life before others, and love the LORD my God with all of my heart, all of my soul, and all of my strength. Oh and to love my neighbor as myself (the really hard part).
Do I love my neighbor if I am judging him harshly because of his outfit? Be it a three piece suit, or boots, jeans, and a hoodie, I am to love my neighbor. Short skirt and tight shirt or turtleneck and maxi-dress, I am to love my neighbor.

Stop alienating the very people you are supposed to be trying to reach by putting stipulations on their attendance. God’s not impressed. You can be just much of a hellion with a dress or suit on than you can with jeans and boots.

Clothes don’t make the believer. How do I know? God’s word backs me up –

“⁷ But the Lord said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7 NLT
“³ Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. ⁴ You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.” 1 Peter 3:3-4 NLT

So, tell me again why I have to get fancy for church?
Bottom line, clothes don’t make you Christ-like. Following His example does.

Purpose, Passion, and Place

“Who am I? Why am I here?” – James Stockdale, b. 1923 – d. 2005

We ask ourselves that very same question at some point in our lives. James Stockdale (God rest his soul) just said it out loud in front of millions on national TV during a 1992 VP debate. While he was ridiculed mercilessly by late night talk show hosts, and pretty much everyone else, his unintentional honesty was actually a little refreshing. Glad he never became the VP though. I mean can you image if Ross Perot, a millionaire with no political experience whatsoever had become President? The very thought is ridiculous. Oh, wait…nevermind. That’s a whole other rant for another day.

Back to the subject at hand – purpose, passion, and place. Three simple words that can bring great happiness or great pain. If you believe that you are functioning in your purpose, living your passion, and have found your place in the world then CONGRATULATIONS! This may not be for you. But tuck it away for later. Trust me, you may need it. On the flip side, if you are experiencing that stage in your life where you have no idea what your purpose is, you’ve lost your passion, and feel out of place, this may be for you.

Our society has placed so much pressure on us to live on purpose, have a purpose driven life, and follow our passion. Where did all of that come from? Seriously. When did that become such a “thing”? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t be happy and have goals at the same time. But why put so much pressure on ourselves to fit the world’s mold of purpose, passion, and place? Who is to say what those three things truly mean? Let’s be real. There is the dictionary definition and there is the biblical view. In either case, it’s all about timing and perception. Take a look at Ecclesiastes 3. I’ll wait.

"1 To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven."

Well, that pretty much sums it up. But let’s go a little further.

"9 What profit has the worker from that in which he labors? 10 I have seen the God-given task with which the sons of men are to be occupied. 11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end. 12 I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice, and to do good in their lives, 13 and also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor - it is the gift of God"

Whether you believe in God or not, your purpose on this earth is to DO GOOD. What is the “it” that plucks your spirit or gets to you when you see that something “needs to be done about it”? That’s your passion, your thing, your why.

When you are functioning in your PURPOSE (the what) and following your PASSION (the why), then you will find that you have arrived in your PLACE (the where}. It all can and will happen in God’s timing (the when). Just trade your will for His (the Who).

You can do this. Stop comparing your life and progress to someone else’s. You don’t know what they are called to do. They may even be out of place themselves and putting on a brave face. Their ministry and purpose are not your business. Be about your Father’s business.