“I Don’t Fit.” Hogwash.

Somewhere around 4:30 am, I woke up, and the sound of my heart ticking pounded in my ears. I tossed and turned but the sound followed, and my mind began to race as it does in early hours if I am awake. Tears brimmed in my eyes as faces of various people filled my mind. Always my baby. He is there first. I ache that I left him when he was 9. It breaks my soul. I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually sick, and my ick has forever impacted that now young man and all of his siblings. And I laid here and cried. I thanked God for him, for them; I know I have to put him and them in God’s hands because they are not mine though I gave birth to them. I left. I ran away. I had to fight to find myself, and I discovered that I have alcoholism, and it next to drowned me, but it didn’t. I left a tumultuous wake as I fought to survive. Now, I am a recovered alcoholic, a domestic abuse survivor, and an open-heart surgery survivor. My story is mine alone, and it is for me to share. To be honest. To be bold. To push past feelings of “I don’t fit” and remember that I fit perfectly into the palm of God’s hand. There I will abide. Not in the accolades or acceptance of people – my children, my coworkers, people I encounter, even family. I will shake off “I don’t fit,” and I will tell my story – how God brought me through to sanity, how He has shown me what my life is to about. I will step into each day with gratitude, ask to be of use to God the Father, and strive to always do the next right thing. What comes of it is not my business. But I know it is for me to share my experience, strength, and hope at every opportunity.

I think I Will Make a Sign to Post Above the Kitchen Sink

The sign above the kitchen sink will say, “Leaving Dirty Dishes in the Kitchen Sink is a Giant F*ck You to the Person Who Comes After You.”

It seems many people believe dishes wash themselves – or they enter the dishwasher somehow on their own. Truly, having clean dishes is a mysterious reality that many take for granted. They put dirty dishes in the sink – and the next thing these dirty-dish-creating individuals know, the same dishes left without a care in the kitchen sink covered in residue wind up back on kitchen shelves, clean and ready for another round of food, fun, and festivities. Amazing to these folks that the mayhem left on each plate, in each bowl, the fingerprints on each glass, and the sediment at the bottom of those glasses and coffee cups disappears … the unknown occurring before these ne’er-do-wells every day of their lives – and they are not even grateful! So used to magic they have become that it is a normal expectation. That part is the mystery to those of us who know there is no magic involved, that there is work which takes mere seconds to perform, that no dish cleans itself. So, yes, as someone who loads and unloads the dishwasher and often wakes in the morning to find a sink full of dirty dishes left by midnight snackers and a mostly empty dishwasher beside them, I believe I will make a sign to post above the kitchen sink.

“Leaving Dirty Dishes in the Kitchen Sink is a Giant F*ck You to the Person Who Comes After You.”

Would markers have the most impact? Perhaps on neon-colored paper? Or a wood sign in which I engrave with blood, sweat, and tears my long-held belief regarding the disregard many people have for the dishwasher loader’s and unloader’s time and feelings? Maybe I’ll make it cute and sell it somewhere like Hobby Lobby. Or maybe it should be bold, blunt, use the whole F word, and be sold somewhere like “Black Moth” (which, btw, is my friend Maris’ store – a natural history store of oddities and gifts – really, you should go check it out!). Maybe I could make it in several formats and sell it at flea markets. Have a booth in an antique store. Somewhere … somehow … maybe, for all the loaders and unloaders out there, I can be a voice.

I think I will make a sign.

Only, the next problem is that many folks don’t seem to know how to read …

Pray FOR Them OR Pray TO Them

My husband said those words the other evening, and all within earshot inhaled. It was one of those moments where words become visible, heavy, and fill the room – where they move each person back on their heels and into shock at the simplicity of their truth and power. He didn’t know those words would come from his mouth; in fact, he’d never said them before in his 39 years of living in sobriety and in the 4th dimension, which the Big Book talks about.

So many of us walk around carrying resentments and anger. They weigh us down and steal joy, peace, serenity, rationality, sanity, all the good things from us, and we, because we remain in the 3rd dimension of reality, the consequence years, do not recognize the spiritual solution to what drains us – and for many of us – resentment, and our need to “fix” it all ourselves, drives us to drink, drugs, overeating, sex addiction, porn, shopping, whatever it is that you chase “Feel Better” with because we do not have the solution within our own abilities.

The solution is a spiritual solution.

A recognition of powerlessness over that which controls you, whatever that might be. From there, an understanding that you, in your own power, cannot course correct your life, that only God, the Creator, once called upon and surrendered to, has the power to rocket you into a life you cannot even dream of in your self-absorbed state of “fixing” it myself as you (we) chase drink, drugs, overeating, sex addiction, porn, shopping, whatever the “Feel Better” is.

See, God, Yahweh, the Great I Am, in His unfathomable wisdom, waits for us to admit we need Him.

Patrick, on a regular basis, models in our home exactly what he tells every person who comes to our home and sits at our table, seeking a solution to their powerlessness once they realize that on their own, they are incapable of ‘saving’ themselves from the seemingly bottomless pit of despair that trying to live a life based in self-will and “I can fix it myself” will get you. Every morning, my husband prays. He starts his day with gratitude, and he asks the Father to allow him to be of use to Him. Patrick taught me this, and it is how I strive to begin my days as well. Simple prayer. Simple faith. Major changes to life. See, gratitude and humility produce willingness to be honest, open, and useful – and that is exactly the state God desires. Then … He moves. I’ve seen it. I know it to be true.

Most of my life, I believed I had prayed wrong. It’s modeled and taught so differently in churches than the simplicity I’ve learned married to this rough-around-the-edges recovered alcoholic I’m blessed to call husband, who loves our God with a fierceness I’ve not encountered in another man. Churches teach prayer – how to pray – do it this way. There are prayer times that are more gossip lines for churchfolk. There is the “A.C.T.S.” method of prayer I was taught as a child – that I never felt I got right, and always felt, because I didn’t pray right, that I was unacceptable to God. That feeling of inadequacy led me to not pray, to resentment, to self-reliance, and to alcohol, men, and despair, and to thinking I’d “fix” it all myself. Restless. Irritable. Discontent. Lost.

But … see, my Patrick found something in his journey to sobriety that he now gives away freely – and that is how to walk humbly with our God – how to pray. He shared this with me. He shares it with whoever God puts in his path. Gratitude and service. Be willing. Be honest. Be humble. Thank the Father each morning for the blessings in your life – even on the hard days. Like this morning. I woke up feeling overwhelmed because my dad fell again last night. He had another car accident earlier in the week. I’m watching my dad age, and I know his faculties are strong, but his balance is questionable, as is his depth perception. He’s 81. The gamut of emotions I allowed between waking and sitting to write this had me wiping tears and oversharing with friends.

See, I know better what to do, and this is it … pray. Start with gratitude.

For example: Father, thank you for my dad. Thank you for the last three years he’s been able to live with Patrick, Joey, and me, and for getting to love him, spend time with him, and care for him – even when it’s hard on so many levels. Thank you for my marriage. Thank you for a husband who leads toward YOU. Thank you for my work. Thank you for our children – both biological and those grafted in by You. Thank you for being the vessel you used to bring Keenan, Kennedy, Kadi, Koel, Klayton, and Koby into this world – may their dad be at peace in his life and may he, too, be of use to You. Thank you for my family, friends, and friends who are family. Thank you for the additional days I’ve been of use to you since my surgery. Thank you for this day – Easter Sunday – and what it represents. Thank you for Jesus! Father, may I be of use to YOU today, as you see fit. Please put those whom you want me to encounter in my path, and may I be willing to be of service to you. Amen.

Prayer doesn’t need to be some planned, ornate thing. In fact, it is the opposite. It is private, personal, shut the door time. You and God. No one else invited. Speak to Him. Allow Him to speak to you. Sit quietly. Be grateful. Be willing to be of service – come what may. Be honest. Be humble. That’s prayer. It is intimate, and it changes you.

My husband said, “Pray FOR them, OR pray TO them,” and we all inhaled. The words stopped each of us in that space. Their truth, like a slap, stung every person in that space who talked about resentments and why they’re mad at this person or that or why this person caused them to do this or that and how it is everyone else’s fault and and – and – and – and each of us found ourselves in that blaming space because we were spiritually sick and sought “feel better” and “fix it myself” to the depth of depravity and addiction. The simplicity of praying for the person you hold resentment toward … ew, no thanks, right? We don’t really want them to get better, do we? We want to stir in our hate, daydream over their destruction, seek revenge, and we marinate in resentment, and they control us. The resented person dwells in your mind – takes control – is set up as a little ‘g’ god.

Ouch.

My husband said, “Pray FOR them, OR pray TO them,” and the room went silent. For a moment.

What each person who heard those words will do with them is between them and God. As for me, though, I’ll never forget those words and their truth. When we let ourselves fixate on those we resent, on situations we resent, on anything that stirs anger within us and gets a foothold, we give it power over us. We set that person, those people, that thing, that institution, whatever it is, up as a god, and we ‘worship’ it – concentrate on it, feed on it, and it consumes us.

That is not how I want to live my life. For me, since my open-heart surgery, I recognize that I have no guaranteed amount of time left in this earthly plane of existence. I have a mechanical heart valve, which relies on medication, blood pressure, and, truthfully, in every bit of actual reality, God’s timing. Each day is a gift – and I do not want to spend one day of it, one second of it, allowing anyone or anything to consume my soul, my heart, and my mind other than God the Father, who is the ONLY solution to my perceived problems this side of Heaven.

I put my focus on Him – and He moves.

Life is precious. We are not here to wallow in resentment. We are here to be of service to our Maker.

Pray for them, or pray to them.

My Husband’s Thoughts After Helping a Woman Loading Salt and Water Into Her Car at the Gas Station. – He’s Not Going to Let What You Might Think of Him Stop Him From Being Him.

Greetings. As you all know, I don’t use social media. My lovely wife enjoys it, but I decline. However, this one time, I will. – Patrick

I had an experience today that I would like all of you to know about. While I was out, I stopped for coffee at a convenience store, and on my way in, I saw a lady who was loading cases of water into her trunk. It was more than obvious that this woman had MS, curled hands, and a clear limp.

I thought about asking her if she needed help, but for some reason, I walked in and went about my business. On the way out, after paying for my coffee, to my surprise, she was still loading her car, only this time, with 20 lb. bags of salt. So I asked her if she needed help. She said, “Yes,” and I loaded the bags. She said, “Thank you, and may God bless you, Sir.”

I sat in the car and couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Why did I hesitate to begin with?’ I thought about it and realized I didn’t ask initially because I didn’t want to offend anyone. I thought, ‘What’s happening to me?’

It dawned on me that the people I am currently in the world with have had an impact on me as a person. I want to address those people. If the shoe fits, wear it; no filter with me.

If you are one of those people who have found it necessary to sew division merely due to who you voted for, or one who cannot live in society until the rest of the population agrees with a man being able to be a woman, or just flat out Will NOT treat other people with respect until they adopt “your” way of thinking, do a cowboy a favor and GROW UP!

I almost let these types of people in society alter me today, but I think from now on, I’ll be a little more diligent and watchful to make darn sure I don’t become someone I am NOT.

Wife here: I love this man’s heart, and I’m proud to be his wife!

Scolded By My Son – and I’m Grateful.

Joshua 1:9: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go”.

This morning’s blog post; I want to share with you.

Yesterday, my 19-year-old son, Klayton, spoke truth to me, and I am humbled that God speaks to us through the means He chooses.

Klayton and I talked about many things, from philosophy to my thinning hair, and I told him how sad I am that it has become so thin since surgery, and that I can no longer take the medications that had been thickening it before surgery. We talked about how stress can be a cause of thinning hair, and I shared the level of stress and anxiety I’ve been in since Labor Day, when Patrick’s health took a sharp decline, and the peritonsillar abscess started. 6 ER visits. Multiple doctors’ appointments. Talk of Sepsis. Doctors refusing to do a tonsillectomy because they surmised it would kill him (he’s 62 and a smoker), but also making us aware that antibiotics would stop working at some point. It felt hopeless. We are now 10 days past the tonsillectomy, which a second opinion doctor assured us would not be a problem, and Patrick is still in pain, though it is lessening. Some days are better than others, but he is healing, and I feel on pins and needles. Have felt on pins and needles just waiting for the bottom to fall out for months now. In this past year, I’ve taken him to the ER (3 times calling an ambulance) 9 times. 6 since September 4^th. Klayton listened, and then, he said (and I’m paraphrasing), he didn’t want to come across as scolding me, but he said that anxiety is fear-based. And fear is a lack of trust in God. I’m trying to fix everything myself and not resting in God’s provision. Fear. Anxiety. Bad health. These things come from not trusting God and living in the knowledge that HE will provide for me, for us, come what may. Wow. Just wow. Wisdom from my son. I did not feel scolded; I felt seen. Seen and called out truthfully and lovingly.

Later in the night, close to midnight, Patrick asked Joey and me to come to the table, and he handed Joey the “Jesus Calling” book. Joey opened it to December 10^th, and he read out loud, “Make ME (God) the focal point of your search for security. In your private thoughts, you are still trying to order your world so that it is predictable and feels safe. Not only is this an impossible goal, but it is also counterproductive to spiritual growth. When your private world feels unsteady, and you grip My hand for support, you are living in conscious dependence on Me.

“Instead of yearning for a problem-free life, rejoice that trouble can highlight your awareness of My Presence. In the darkness of adversity, you are able to see more clearly the radiance of My Face. Accept the value of problems in this life, considering them PURE JOY. Remember that you have an eternity of trouble-free living awaiting you in Heaven.”

The book goes on to share Isaiah 41:10 – “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Psalm 139:10 – “Even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

James 1:2 – “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds.”

We sat and discussed what the passage meant and how we can apply it to our lives, and as I sat there, I kept hearing Klayton’s words in my head, and I found myself grateful to God for His message to me throughout the evening. I even made a little “hmmm” noise as it dawned on me that was precisely what was happening – through Klayton and through the “Jesus Calling” book.

The night’s message did not stop there. Patrick followed me back to our bedroom when I went to bed, then sat in a chair and asked me to sit in the one opposite him. He said, “If you go to bed with something on your mind, it will still be there in the morning. Get it out. What’s going on?”

I ugly cried.

Shared how scared I’ve been, how high my anxiety has been, and we discussed the necessity of reliance upon God in our lives. We are here to be HIS vessels – to show Him to the world, despite our circumstances. Come What May. That JOY comes not from things going the way we want them to, but rather it comes in resting in the knowledge that I belong to God and that HE will use me for His kingdom if I get myself and my need to “control” out of His way. If I continue to try to control things, He will allow me to make a mess of myself and my life, but if I rest in Him, if I trust that He has my problems, and that my task is just to be about my day – looking for opportunities to be of service to others and to be His light in this dark world – He will take care of the hard things.

I’m humbled this morning, and I’m grateful.

Grateful that God can speak to me through my son, through words in a book, through my husband – all saying the same thing. Trust God, Dacia. His ways are not my ways. His ways are not our ways.

So today, my focus will be on serving others as I can, and doing so with a smile, knowing that all else is outside my pay grade. I will also be grateful for the good things in my life. I will focus on gratitude and service. This is the crux of God’s gift of Joy and a life in AA.

I’m grateful for:

The fact that my 6 bio children know God, some closer than others, but that He is and has been a part of their lives.
That my bio children love each other.
That God has given me non-bio kids to love and cherish as well.
That God put a man in my life who would love me still if I looked like a potato and had no hair.
Worship music that keeps me grounded; I need to listen to it more often.
God’s word, which I make a point to read each morning. Some mornings with more attention than others, but making it a consistency in my life.
Lifelong friends who are more like sisters – who are part of my very being.
Knowing that my sweet momma would be so happy that Patrick and I have Daddy living here in our home with us. Making her proud always filled my heart.
Knowing that God loves me despite me.
Today, I get to make “Grandma Snare’s Sugar Cookies” for my kids and for whoever else God leads me to give cookies to – and each cookie will be made with love.

I’m sharing this because I love you; I’m grateful for you, and I do not want you to spend your life fighting to control all of your circumstances yourself. I want to remind you, as I needed reminded, that if we keep our focus in the right place, and that is being God’s vessel, His hands, His feet, His love, His directness, His light in this dark world, that HE will take care of the rest and give us JOY. Joy that is far beyond happiness, which is fleeting. Joy is a state of being. It is peace knowing that God’s will is higher than all else, and if we remain in His plan for our lives, we will know that Peace That Passes Understanding. Amen.

Hate and Kindness Rambling

Never will I understand the hate that exists in this world. Actually, I can’t say that because I do understand it. That statement comes from a place of naivety inside me, but I know precisely where hate comes from. The devil is alive, and he hates God. He hates all who love God, and he wants to destroy all that God loves. So, the hate that exists in this world is at his stirring. The selfishness of humanity is him in his ‘finest’ work … and I understand, but it baffles me that so many people blindly follow along. I know some choose his ways with intention, and so be it. Go that way and reap the consequences. “Let them.” But those that so blindly follow, who are led foolishly by utter selfishness and allow themselves to hate anyone different from them … that hurts me, confuses me, and bothers me. I want to stand on a mountain top and yell to them all that there is another way to live! It is possible to live in peace with others! That you can hold different perspectives and opinions and still have respect for one another! It is possible not to hate! It is possible to love … It is possible, but only with love that comes from God. God’s love is selfless. It puts others first; it seeks the best for many over self. It is about service and kindness, though firmly standing on principles. Jesus hung out with sinners … not to do what they did, but to show them love and another way to live. He called them to a higher plane of existence, and many who encountered him chose to change. Not all … some didn’t like the love and selflessness that Christ preached because it would cause them to have to give up what they perceived as their ‘control’ and power, and they (the religious leaders of all people) plotted to kill him. He was messing with their ‘thing,’ and they plotted, and they killed him. And the devil thought he had made the ultimate play against God.

Only … the temple veil tore in two, the earth shook, the sky went dark, and three days later, Jesus Christ beat the chains of death and rose from the dead! There are many eyewitness accounts in Scripture and in historical documents. Believe it or don’t. I choose to believe, and because I choose to follow Jesus, I also choose to follow His leading in the New Testament —those to blessed words in red. I started reading to understand in Luke 11 two weeks ago, taking it in manageable chunks, and I’m now in chapter 17. I’ve encountered Jesus in a completely new way. What I know now is that in regard to faith and religion, He did not come to bring peace but to bring division. He came to show hypocrisy for what it was/is, to make it plain. He said to be ready. He said to be watchful. He said not to be the cause of someone else stumbling. He said to be shrewd. He said to be in the present moment. He said to be kind. He said to share the good news of eternal life with God the Father in Heaven, that our time on earth is short, but that heaven is eternal. What we choose here determines where we spend forever. I choose eternity with God the Father, Christ the Son, and the Spirit, who God has placed inside our souls, guiding us daily toward what is good, what is true, what is right, what is lovely, what is self-controlled, what pleases God in the human heart. So, for me to say I’ll never understand the hate that exists in this world is not a true statement. I do understand it, but I don’t like it. I choose not to live that way—in hate and selfishness. I choose to love people despite themselves and despite myself. I will not hate someone for being different from me. I’d rather understand why they’re different and look for opportunities to have productive conversations, to be kind, to be loving, and to be a light for Jesus, so that He can draw more people to His Father. In that, there is much rejoicing in Heaven! I understand the assignment. Be in the moment. Stay in the Word. Pray every day. Be kind. Be principled. Know why I believe what I believe. Be shrewd. Be watchful. Be discerning. Shake the dust off my feet when necessary. Always seek to be pleasing to the Father. Amen.

I intended this to be a piece about why so many perceived Charlie Kirk as being hateful … but I’m not going there fully. He wasn’t. There’s evidence of that. He was principled. He was shrewd. He was kind. He was watchful and discerning. He knew what he believed, and he stood on it, but he, like Christ, also chose to be among the people who were different from him and to have conversations. He never called people who disagreed with him ugly names. He didn’t put them down. He loved opposing opinions and debate. And he was killed for it. This puts us as a nation on dangerous ground. I see it, and it shocks me, though it shouldn’t. That’s that naïve part of me that wants all people to be kind and to be critical thinkers, although I know that is not reality because the devil roams like a roaring lion seeking those he can destroy – and he does so with selfishness and hate. Some schools are opting not to have Turning Point USA chapters because of the perceived “hate” that many claim it espouses. See, here’s what I know … most who choose to hate something they’ve not truly researched are in Cognitive Dissonance, and there is no point in arguing with them. So, start a Critical Thinking Club; call it something else, and it will be okay. Ah, people. The “Let Them” theory comes into play here, and I know to keep moving forward, shake the dust off my feet, and find those who can participate in true argument, and have those kinds of conversations, where opinions can vary and kindness shared. Where respect reigns and wars can end. Some will find this light. Some will not. And I find myself saying, Maranatha again and again. Come, Lord Jesus.

Self-Control. I Thought I Understood It. I Realize Now, I Did Not. New Perspective.

A new perspective hit me when I listened to this message yesterday, and it is filling my spirit this morning. I keep wiping tears – grateful and humbled. The idea that practicing self-control is an act of service to God blew my mind. I printed it on a piece of paper and hung it in my kitchen this morning. Serving God is self-control. Serving self is NO self-control. I want no part of that … serving and worshipping myself. That hits new today. I’m struck by the fact that my lack of self-control means I am worshipping myself. Serving God does not just mean doing things for others; it means surrendering my desires to Him under His control. The message comes from multiple Scriptures, but centers in Galatians 5.

One of my dear friends listened to the message this morning, and she said what struck her is that “when you seek pleasures rather than living in God‘s word, you are saying God is not enough to fulfill you.” And also, she said, “True freedom is not a license to do as you please but rather is a liberty to do as we ought to do.” Another friend said, “I loved his analogy about the sirens and the harp and that the song of Christ is louder and greater than anything else. So powerful. “

If you have 46 minutes available today, please take a moment to listen to this message and consider the ideas it presents. Pastor Begg also discusses addiction in this message, which is reflective of steps 3, 6, and 7.

“[Charlie Kirk] Wasn’t Even Mentioned at My Church”

“Thank you for talking about it,” a young man said to me after class yesterday. He meant Charlie Kirk’s assassination. He went on to say, “It wasn’t even mentioned at my church, and that really bothered me.”

What do you mean it wasn’t mentioned at your church? What kind of church do you go to? That’s what went through my head, but I didn’t voice it out loud. I said, “You’re welcome,” and went on about gathering my things – lanyard with keys and school ID, my clicker, my water bottle, my phone. As I did, I thought how I could not imagine not discussing the death of Charlie Kirk, the reactions to it that are happening globally, and what this means for us on personal and big scales. For me, this entire conversation is the very essence of what my Comp II courses are about. Critical thinking and true argument.

A true argument is calm and courteous. It is supported by evidence. It is curious, and it understands the value of the audience and their opinions. The point of true argument is to be prepared, know why you believe what you believe, have evidence, but remain open to the understanding that every other person on this planet has the right to their own opinion. It is on you, the arguer, to hear them out, to weigh their thoughts, and, like Charlie, to poke holes when the evidence is thin. This is to encourage the “opposition” to do more research and establish their argument more fully, or to ask them to consider, if even a little, what you have to say. Then, after that, it’s not your business what they do with the information you shared or whether they study up more. Move on. Argument is never about who is right or wrong, not when it’s done healthily. It’s about sharing ideas and allowing others to come to their own conclusions. You continue to stand by what you believe, never forcing it on others. Patrick always says, “Never by force,” and he’s right. That’s an AA principle, and I’m a fan of it. Go on with your day.

I told my students yesterday that when I was a kid, there was a saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Yes, absolutely. Where has that gone in this world? Now, you hear people say, “Words are violence.” No, they’re not. They’re words. AA has taught me to be emotionally sober. In control of my emotions, which are fleeting. Words are just words. How I react to them reveals my character. Personally, I intend to be a woman of character, and therefore, I will control my emotional nature as best I can. I will have thick skin and not allow words or ill intentions to hurt my feelings. I will stand ready for actual conversation, though, if an individual wants to step into that arena. Yes, let’s discuss our differing perspectives. Bring your evidence, and I’ll bring mine. I will also bring a smile; don’t forget yours, please. Let’s talk, then maybe grab a coffee and change subjects – discuss a favorite book, or if you prefer, fall or spring. There are many sides to people with whom we disagree – finding commonalities is another key to success in argument and understanding.

Yesterday, we discussed how Charlie Kirk is a man who is interested in discussing hard topics. His mission was to encourage young people, specifically Gen Z, to think for themselves and not succumb to narratives and politicians who seek to establish and maintain their own power. For every claim that he was racist, homophobic, and all the other terms circulating now, there is evidence to refute those claims. He was not a racist, nor was he homophobic. He was in alignment with what he believed Jesus taught about all people – that all can be children of God, no matter their skin color or what they do in the privacy of their rooms. I discussed with my students the dangers of listening to brief clips of information on the internet without considering the entire context of a conversation. They’ve been challenged to go and listen for themselves, to read, to research Charlie Kirk’s message. Yes, he was a Christian, and much of what he did was directly influenced by those beliefs. He talked on them unapologetically, but if someone refused to accept what he had to say, he did not call them names or say ugly things; he said he’d pray for them or wished them well. It’s wild to sit back and look at the big picture here, and to see that Charlie Kirk’s assassination is a martyrdom – he was murdered for his words and for faith, truly. Because he stood up for what he believed, and he set about sharing the ability to think and draw conclusions with a young generation. He had a dream for the future and followed his heart. For this, he was assassinated.

In the United States of America. The supposed bastion of free speech.

A church that doesn’t want to ‘offend’ by talking about an event that is right here, right now, in our faces and not going away anytime soon, an event that is about a present-day martyr for his faith, and they can’t/won’t talk about that, is no true church of Jesus Christ. It’s a feel-good palace, not a place where truth is spoken and conviction occurs, where lives are changed for eternity. The CHURCH, the body of Jesus Christ that meets together in places of worship or in homes, must move forward boldly proclaiming His Love and His Salvation despite the world and its trappings and the snares of the devil, who is alive, and his greatest resource is blinding the eyes of “believers” – those who are too afraid of what the world will think if they take a stand, so they don’t. They stay quiet, they say nothing, and the devil rejoices.

My student was upset that his church had not spoken on Charlie Kirk’s assassination; I am, too. Where are our young people to receive direction when they’re seeking it if the churches and their leaders do not understand or act on the mandate of Jesus? In Matthew 10, Jesus spoke these words to his disciples, which remain applicable to us today.

⁵These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. ⁶Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel. ⁷As you go, proclaim this message: ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ ⁸Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy,^[a] drive out demons. Freely you have received; freely give.

⁹“Do not get any gold or silver or copper to take with you in your belts— ¹⁰no bag for the journey or extra shirt or sandals or a staff, for the worker is worth his keep. ¹¹Whatever town or village you enter, search there for some worthy person and stay at their house until you leave. ¹²As you enter the home, give it your greeting. ¹³If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you. ¹⁴If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet. ¹⁵Truly I tell you, it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town.

¹⁶“I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves. ¹⁷Be on your guard; you will be handed over to the local councils and be flogged in the synagogues. ¹⁸On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. ¹⁹But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, ²⁰for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.

²¹“Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child; children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death. ²²You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved. ²³When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another. Truly I tell you, you will not finish going through the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes.

²⁴“The student is not above the teacher, nor a servant above his master. ²⁵It is enough for students to be like their teachers, and servants like their masters. If the head of the house has been called Beelzebul, how much more the members of his household!

²⁶“So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. ²⁷What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs. ²⁸Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. ²⁹Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.^[b] ³⁰And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. ³¹So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

³²“Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. ³³But whoever disowns me before others, I will disown before my Father in heaven.

³⁴“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. ³⁵For I have come to turn

“‘a man against his father,
a daughter against her mother,
a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—
³⁶ a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.’^[c]

³⁷“Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. ³⁸Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. ³⁹Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.

⁴⁰“Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. ⁴¹Whoever welcomes a prophet as a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person as a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward. ⁴²And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.”

We are here on this earth to be of service to God the Father – to love people and to draw as many as possible to God so that they have the opportunity to spend all of eternity with Him and with all the saints who have gone on before – like Charlie Kirk. That is all. We are not here on this earth to bring pleasure to ourselves and to amass power and wealth. Those things are fleeting, but oh, how we see people chase them. No, thank you.

We have a sign hanging in our dining room, and all who enter our home see the words of Joshua: “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” – Joshua 24:15

The entire verse says, “¹⁵But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

Amen and yes. So be it.

When an Argument Has No Leg to Stand On, Name Calling Begins.

“I always cheer up immensely if an attack is particularly wounding because I think, well, if they attack one personally, it means they have not a single political argument left.” – Margaret Thatcher.

Thatcher’s words ring true. When name-calling begins, the argument is over – or at least an opportunity for a valid argument is over. Name-calling indicates the ‘arguer’ has nothing left to stand on, no evidence to validate their side, at least nothing that sticks, so the ‘arguer’ resorts to getting loud, getting emotional, and name-calling. I put ‘arguer’ in quotation marks because, at this point, the individual becomes a fighter; a real argument is, in fact, a calm, courteous process. Name-calling is no longer calm, nor is it courteous.

Once name-calling begins, I shut down; I’m no longer listening. This has been my experience many times in life. I’ve been called names – ugly ones, silly ones, intentionally hurtful ones; I’ve heard others called names. I may have called my little brother names from time to time in much younger days. Once the name-calling starts, those who enjoy a good fight jump in and have at it, but those of us who realize that name-calling waves the foul play flag know that there is nothing left to listen to in what the other ‘side’ has to say; they’ve lost control. There is no reason to stay in that ‘conversation’, which is no longer a conversation once the first word jab is thrown.

It’s wild that name-calling is so pervasive in life. I see it on the news; politicians do it daily. I see and hear it on social media every day. And I do my best to combat this lack of compelling argument tactics by instilling in my students that name-calling indicates you do not have a leg to stand on in your argument, that your argument is actually over. There is no longer a conversation. Fighting words begin.

We must rise above that. Invest research, thought, and energy into producing and organizing an argument so that you can maintain an open mind and your audience remains open-minded as well. Name-calling shuts down the audience and closes the door on compromise and consideration.

At this point, I’m repetitive, and I realize it. I’ll just end where I began – with the words of the late-Charlie Kirk:

“When people stop talking, that’s when you get violence.” – Charlie Kirk

Honesty Saves Pain

As I went through the steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, I came to a deep understanding of myself that rocked me; it shook me to my core. My entire foundation had been victimhood for most of my life, and that platform no longer existed. It was no longer a ground I could stand on in defense of my behavior, my actions, my words, my dependency on alcohol, men, shopping, rearranging furniture, etc. I came face-to-face with a level of dishonesty in myself that, deep down, I think I had always known, but I had never admitted to a single person. Not one.

I cannot remember a time in my early life when I shared my honest thoughts or opinions; I kept those to myself. I was not taught to participate in debate or conflict; instead, I learned to keep my mouth shut and my head down, and I proceeded forward a “good” little Christian girl who knew Scripture, did what she was told, could answer all the Sunday School questions, and was the apple of my parents’ eyes … until a certain boy came along. I was 14, soon to be 15. He was 17. My father put his foot down and said, No, I could not date this boy. I did, though, behind their backs for over a year. This boy was unlike any person I’d known up to that point in my young life. He listened to me. We talked. I shared my thoughts and opinions with him. He didn’t take my virginity because, in his words, “I don’t want to do that to you; I want you to be my wife.” I was beyond confused as to why this young man, who respected me, was, in a sense, the ‘devil’ in my church-going family’s eyes. Our meeting in secret was discovered, and, at the age of 16, I found myself grounded indefinitely. I broke it off with the boy, but my heart broke too. There were lots of fish in the sea, right? I would find another boy – one like the first one – one that my parents approved of, one that my preacher-filled, extended family would welcome with open arms. And so, the first love became the standard by which I judged all other future prospects. None was him – not for another 33 years, but I pushed forward. Never honest. Never telling anyone how I truly felt and what I wanted. I tried to be who I perceived everyone wanted me to be. Long story short, I found myself married to a man, a Bible College professor’s son, who fit the ‘bill.’ He was a sort of ‘bad boy’ with a solid Christian family. He was looking for someone to be like his mom (which I portrayed that I was, but I was not, and he could not have known that, as we dated long distance before the days of everyone having a cell phone), and I was looking for someone to check off my boxes. We were oil and water. Volatile from the beginning. Two weeks in, we were fighting, and over the next 23 years and 6 children together, that escalated and became dangerous. I took up drinking, and I will not speak for him – his actions and behaviors are his story to tell in his own honest appraisal of himself. Never in all those years was I fully honest about why I married him, what my expectations were. It’s not that I didn’t have love for him, but, in retrospect, I was much more in love with what I perceived I wanted and needed. Never did I admit that I had never let go of the boy from high school in my heart, who had grown to be larger than life in my mind – a completely irrational perspective, though I had no idea I’d put him on such an unrealistic pedestal – he was godlike to me. Never had I even told a friend these things; I had ignored them, pushed them away. I tried to focus on the life I had chosen and make the best of it. I tried to control it all – make it all into the ‘perfect’ life I wanted everyone to see that I had.

I took up drinking at 32 years old. Out to dinner with our preacher, actually, and he informed me that I wouldn’t go to hell if I had a strawberry daiquiri. Oh, it was delicious, and I found that I could relax around my husband. I could stand up a bit, say what I thought here and there. Soon, vodka was in our freezer, and bottles of wine were in the cabinet. I shopped the alcohol section at the grocery store with all 6 children in tow – clinging to the basket and in car seats – praying no one I knew would see me. Only recently, my 26-year-old daughter informed me she used to sneak drinks of my vodka. Man, I had no idea.

I’d become so self-involved. All I was concerned about was my broken life and poor me … unloved, unwanted were my perceptions, and so I painted my then-husband as the bad guy when I sought advice from people about what to do about him. Never looking inward beyond Christian counselors telling me I should pray for him more and that I should greet him at the front door with a smile. I even read a book on submission and tried to be a dutifully submissive wife, though inside I boiled and hatred grew. I never spoke of the hatred – that would discolor the good little Christian girl perspective people held of me. The mom of 6. The perfect little wife. My reputation and how people looked at me were important. I certainly never told a counselor about the alcohol. I was not giving that up. My bravery. My courage. My sleeping “pill.”

Social media made it possible for me to do the unthinkable. And to protect others as the Big Book directs, I will only admit to my own dishonesty and behavior. I found validation in other men. This became addictive and set me on a destructive course that destroyed what did exist of that marriage, damaged six children, and hurt the extended family that was unaware of the depths of my hate and disgust because I was so good at living a double life. I ran away. I left that life and fled to my parents; I holed up, drank, and cried. We “tried” to work on the marriage, but neither of us was honest in that venture; it was a ruse, and it landed me in the psych ward for a second time, suicidal, perhaps homicidal. We divorced, and I understand it was devastating to a large number of people who had no idea how volatile that relationship was. The children only knew the life we led – the fighting, yelling, spewing hate on the other side of our bedroom door where they listened; I know this now. Some of my children possess a quality that their mother lacked for nearly 50 years – they are brutally honest, and I am grateful for that. On the outside, however, back in the last days of that marriage, in all the days of that marriage, we could put on a show. Some knew something wasn’t right, but they never knew how much of its demise was my responsibility because I was so good at being the victim.

I went on living with my parents. Working. Pursuing validation in men. Drinking myself into oblivion every night. Never honest. Always the victim. Miserable. Trying to control my life.

In December 2020, a conversation occurred with an individual from the past that severed that invisible thread of the ‘perfection’ I thought I’d missed out on in life. Two weeks later, I met Patrick. My now-husband. A man who told me from the get-go that God is first, and I will always be second. He is now 38 years sober; he is authentic in his faith, raw in it, and people tend to shy away from his brutal honesty. Not all people appreciate his manner of speech or his directness, but there are those who do. Like me. Honesty was not something I ever had the capacity for, and I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He led me through the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous after some time together; I internally fought it because taking a deep dive inside of myself and my motivations was uncomfortable and not something I welcomed. I could ‘pretend.’ But that was never good enough for him because he saw straight through my facade, and he called me out on it. He led me through the 12 steps without taking me outside of the Big Book of AA. No workbooks. No outside sources. Just was Bill and Bob and the first 100 recovered alcoholics wrote down in 1939, and I saw myself. I looked in the figurative mirror – my words and my life were all written down on paper, and I saw the pride, the anger, the greed, the fear, the envy, the lust, the dishonesty … levels of each that were vile and overwhelming, and it broke me.

I saw that the double life I had lived for years – portraying the good little Christian girl on the outside but being fully proud, angry, greedy, envious, fearful, lustful, and never honest on the inside. I hid the true me from everyone. Always. Even trying to hide from myself, which resulted in drinking and affairs, and it nearly destroyed me. I’m saying “it” but let me clarify that I know “it” is the devil. See, he did not want me to learn the truth about myself. He wanted me confused, lost, and dishonest – double-minded and unstable in all that I did.

I used to be told that I was crazy a lot, and I took offense at that – you know, out of pride. Now, I laugh at it. Yeah, I’ve got a touch of the crazy, and I’m okay with that because I understand what was going on for years in my head and my spirit and my heart. It was a spiritual battle for my life and my soul, and I, in trying to control it all myself, followed the wrong voice. I followed the voice that told me to only be concerned about myself and what I wanted, and I festered in it, and I was lost and broken. Now, I understand that had I not had so much pride, anger, greed, envy, lust, or dishonesty, my life would never have gone down the path it did. Had I learned at an early age to speak my mind, say what I wanted, and what I thought instead of trying to be someone everyone around me would be pleased with, my life would have been entirely different. So much of the pain I went through and that I caused others, including God, would NOT HAVE HAPPENED.

But it did, and I cannot change the past. I do pray for my ex-husband, and I encourage our children to maintain a good relationship with him. We both love them and our grandchildren wholly, and for that, I am grateful. My daughter tells me that he is a great grandpa, and my grandchildren talk to me about him, and I’m glad of it.

So now, I spend my time encouraging young people to think for themselves, to find their voices, to be true and authentic, to understand that they are unique and special – that every person is. That we are all valuable. That there is a reality around us that we often cannot grasp because we are so consumed by self. That every person has their own values, their own thoughts, their own opinions, and that we have the right to express those – at least in this country. That we are all capable of a good life, a peaceful life, despite our circumstances, if we can but learn to let go, be honest, and step into each moment as if it is the only moment. Personally, I know this is accomplished through an honest relationship with Jesus. And understanding that a battle for our souls wages around us, and the devil is a liar. He wants our eyes on ourselves in pride, anger, envy, greed, fear, lust, sloth, dishonesty, and not on God, and he, the devil, is good at mucking things up, and we – humans – fall into the drama and chaos of his ways. I fight this now. I am pushing back, and I am teaching young people to think for themselves, to get their eyes on others, and to be of service to one another, for it is only truly in serving others that we find purpose in this life. I tell my story at every opportunity, and I live an honest life. I am no longer double-minded, and I am a grateful woman.

I wish I had learned this level of self-discovery and authenticity when I was young. I wish there had been someone in my life who would have encouraged me to be honest and authentic – to have given me the tools to debate, to experience conflict, and to not be afraid of failure, life, rejection, of being alone, and of being so focused on me, me, me, me. I can’t live in wishes though, so I take the opportunity now to be an influence in the lives of the young people I encounter because honesty saves pain. It keeps us from unnecessary pain.

Let us be open to opposing perspectives – discovering why people believe as they do and allowing them to have their opinions apart from ours.

Let us be honest – about ourselves and our experiences – our failures and our struggles – how our values conflict – how we wrestle – how we grow – what we believe and why.

Let us be compassionate – to all. Each person has the capacity to step into the light. Not all will choose it – and that’s their prerogative, but speaking for truth and holding respect for debate and opposing perspectives will never be wrong in the eyes of God.

Let us be willing to serve others – get our eyes off ourselves and onto meeting the needs of others. The exact opposite of a devil-driven, self-absorbed nature is where we find purpose and peace.

Let us be change-makers instead of miserable, insecure, and self-involved pain-makers like I used to be. For far too long.