Author Archives: Melissa Edmondson

20

Feb. ’14

Story about a Dog

“We fear things in proportion to our ignorance of them.”
–  Christian Nestell Bovee

I want to tell you a story about a dog.

LUCY2And it’s not just any dog, mind you.  I’d like you to meet my boyfriend Richard’s sweet little german shepherd, Lucy.  Isn’t she the cutest little booger?  So incredibly sweet.  So lovable.  So happy.  And so…*ahhem*…um, how shall I say this?…unintelligent?  Heh.  Bless her sweet little heart, she’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the box.  But she sure makes up for it in sweetness though, that’s for sure.  Well, I have a story about one of Lucy’s recent…let’s just say mental lapses…that I thought was pretty interesting.

Now Lucy is a little over a year old and, all her life, has been taught that she is NOT to come in the house.  She’s an outside dog, and that’s always been perfectly fine with her.  Well….now here we are faced with this awful winter we’ve been having, so we decided to try to bend the rules a little.  With sub-zero temps and wind chills to boot, it was time to let Lucy in the house.

Heh.  WRONG.

Lucy was having NONE of that.  You don’t teach a dog not to come in the house and then invite them in.  No way, not Miss Lucy.  Her daddy said a long time ago that she wasn’t supposed to be in the house and that was that, by gosh.  We cajoled, we pushed, we pulled, we begged…but she wasn’t budging.

So, on to Plan B.

Richard, being the sweetheart that he is, decided that he couldn’t bear knowing that all she was going to have as shelter would be a drafty garage.  Yes, it would block the worst of the wind, but it still wasn’t all that toasty in there.  So, he rigged up a little space heater for her right next to her dog bed.  That way, she would at least feel the heat from it as long as she stayed in her bed for the night.  Problem solved.  We’re going on a few months of this space heater warmth for Lucy on these cold winter nights and all has been working just fine, thank you.

Until yesterday, that is.

*sigh*

Now, I mentioned that Lucy is a sweet little thing right?  Sooooo sweet.  Smart?  Eh.  Notsomuch.

I left early in the morning for work and Richard was close behind.   We both had very long days yesterday, consisting of real estate work here and there and followed up by rehearsal (for me) and sound work (for him) at the theatre until late in the evening.  And then, after topping the night off with a quick bite to eat and a glass of wine or two at our favorite restaurant, we finally made our way back home.  And what did we find when we got there?

Lucy.  In the garage.

Stuck.

And by “stuck,” let me explain.  This space heater that I described to you is a long, low-to-the-ground type.  It resembles a baseboard heater somewhat.  Before Richard had left for the day, he went into the garage through the open door (on the opposite side of the heater) and Lucy had followed him in.  As he was leaving, he shut the garage door behind him with Lucy still inside, knowing that it was ok to do so since Lucy could easily go out the side door that we always keep open for her.  Well, what he didn’t realize, was that the heater (which was not on, by the way) had been pushed to the side just slightly and was now…um…”blocking” Lucy’s path to the side door.

Now, I mentioned this heater is low to the ground, right?  And by low to the ground, I mean probably 6 inches.  Tops.  So this 6-inch tall non-functioning space heater stood between Lucy and the side door of freedom.

It took us a minute to realize what the problem was once we got home.  I was the first to arrive and was shocked that Lucy didn’t come flying to me with her tail flapping as she always does.  I heard her whining in the garage, but she wouldn’t come to me.  I walked a little further in and saw that she was just standing there.  That’s it.  Just standing there looking at me.  (And crying, the poor little thing.)

So, I called to her.  “Come here, Lucy.  Come here, girl.”

Still.  Nothing.

That’s when I realized that she was refusing to step across the little heater.  I walked over and simply pushed the heater a few inches to the side, and let me tell you – you would not believe the happiness that burst forth from that sweet little dog.  She bolted out of that garage, went straight to the yard to ‘take care of some overdue business,’ and then came bounding back to me for her “Hello, I’m glad you’re home, I love you, I love you, I love you” kisses.

When Richard got home, we laughed about that silly dog being “stuck” in the garage, all because she refused to step across the heater.  But then the more we talked about it, the more we realized that, although the heater wasn’t hot at the moment, Lucy must have learned (the hard way, I’m guessing) that that heater could be hot.  So, she figured it was best to play it safe.  Even if it meant imprisonment.

Now, you guys realize I’m a writer right?  And one thing I’ve noticed about we writers…we simply cannot see a situation in only a literal sense.  Oh no – there is always a deeper meaning to just about everything.  This time was no exception.

I thought about poor sweet Lucy and wondered how many times I’ve done that myself.  How many times have I chosen imprisonment and sacrificed my freedom, simply because I was afraid to attempt something that may have hurt me in the past?  And how many times was that thing that I thought was going to hurt me, simply just there for my benefit and not going to hurt me at all?  And how many times have I, due to being ignorant to the harmlessness of the obstacle (simply because I was not willing to test it out), therefore remained in the tiny, lonely, confined space of my own making?

And while we’re on the subject – how many times have you done that?

Pretty dumb, isn’t it?

So, yes, maybe this was just one instance of a not-so-smart doggy getting stuck in a garage behind a heater.  Or…

Or.

Maybe this was one of those lessons that life puts in front of you all of the time…if you’ll just take a moment to stop and notice it.

I don’t know about you, but I sure do know that Lucy was pretty darn happy to be free.  Maybe you should give freedom a try yourself.

LUCY1

***

“Ultimately we know deeply that the other side of every fear is freedom.”
– Marilyn Ferguson

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 3 Comments

14

Feb. ’14

To My Valentine

“At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.”
– Plato

To My Valentine….

Valentine’s Day’s
the time they say
to show what they mean to you;
Chocolate bars,
sappy cards,
dinners just for two

Candlelight talks,
moonlit walks,
Sweet music to serenade
One night to show
that special glow
From the love you both have made

It sounds so nice
most don’t think twice
They throw their all into this day
And while I do understand
most couple’s plans
For us, it’s not quite this way

The lives we lead
are busy indeed
And are filled with much to do
With four kids between
(and most are teens!)
Little remains for me and you

With their needs galore;
clothes, concerts and more
Birthday presents around every bend
The wallet stays bare;
(surprised we even have hair!)
And before we know it, the money’s all spent

So we find other means
(not requiring much green)
To show the love that lies within
Those arms that you place
around my waist
Those sweet dimples in your grin

The hours you spend
shoveling snow with no end
So my little car can get out of the drive
The errands you run
when I’m coming undone
From the stress of these busy lives

Your sweet, gentle ways
through these hectic days
That keeps me from coming unglued
Every kiss that you place
upon my grateful face
Shows how much I am loved by you

I hope mere words are enough
to thank you for your love
For all the many loving things that you do,
Valentine’s Day and the rest
I am loved by the best –
Thank God for the gift that is you.

valentine

Posted by . Categories: Poetic Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

12

Feb. ’14

V-Day Giveaway

“A bell is no bell ’til you ring it,
A song is no song ’til you sing it,
And love in your heart
Wasn’t put there to stay –
Love isn’t love
‘Til you give it away.”
~Oscar Hammerstein, Sound of Music, “You Are Sixteen (Reprise)”

Ahhhh.  ‘Tis the season for romance, right?  Chocolate hearts, teddy bears, lovey-dovey sweet nothings….

Blech.

I know, I know…I’m very happily in love and should be happy about Valentine’s Day, right?  Well, I am happy that I’m in a relationship with such a wonderful, amazing man.  Don’t get me wrong.  But the idea that it should all be centered around one day?  Eh.  Pardon my French here, but I just think that’s a bunch of BS.

And besides, I haven’t always been deliriously happy on Valentine’s Day.  As some of you may remember, this wasn’t the case for me last year.  Richard and I had split up.  (And, believe me, Richard just loooooves when I bring this up….).  I wrote a blog (a year ago today actually) about how I had attempted to see Valentine’s Day in a different light that year.  And it worked for a while.  It really did.  But then, a few days later, you’ll see the blog I wrote on the day after Valentine’s Day.  (Aptly titled “The Day After Valentine’s Day…” Man, I was creative back in the old days…)  I had psyched myself to get through that day, and then felt the sadness all over again once it was over.

So, again, yes, I am much much happier this year.  I’m so grateful that Richard and I made it through the hurt and sadness and found our way back to each other.  But regardless of my status this or any year, I still hate the thought of the turmoil that Valentine’s Day puts people through.  I know many people who are recently single who are bracing themselves for the dreaded V-Day just as I had to do last year.  And why is that?  Isn’t every day hard enough on the brokenhearted as it is without having to rub their faces in it once a year?  And if you’re not amongst the brokenhearted and are in a loving relationship now like I am, should you really need one particular day a year to remind you to be good to the one you love?  And do you really need to be pressured into buying expensive gifts to prove said love?

Well, I certainly don’t think so.

So…with that rant out of the way…let’s get to the point of this particular blog.  I decided that maybe I should do a Valentine’s Day give-away of the Chicken Soup for the Soul book that my story is in.  While, yes, it is a book filled with happy love stories, it’s also a book filled with real love stories.  And some of them, just like real life, don’t necessarily have such happy endings.  The book is divided into subject headings and one of them is entitled “Let’s Forget this Ever Happened.”  Another is called “It’s Not Me, It’s You” and contains a story called “Worst Date Ever.”  Anyway, you catch my drift right?  These stories are real.  And I think it’s important for us all to remember that there are a variety of “statuses” out there on stupid stinky ole Valentine’s Day.  If you’re not one of the ones in a happy relationship, don’t sweat it.  When we’re in a place of sadness, it’s easy to get it into our head that we’re the only one feeling this way.  That everyone out there has a partner and we’re the only one who is alone.  Well, you’re not alone.  Ever.  And here’s how I want to show you that.

If you read this blog, I want you to comment below.  (If you’re reading this on Facebook, you’re welcome to comment there too if you can’t figure out how to comment on the actual blog site).  I want you to tell me what your relationship status is, and how you plan to ‘celebrate’ Valentine’s Day.  And I want all the stories.  From the good to the bad to the ugly.  If you’re happily in love and plan the sweetest V-Day on the planet, go ahead and tell us about it.  We’ll try not to gag.  And if you’re miserable and hateful and spiteful and grumpy – I want to hear your thoughts too.  Really.

Why am I doing this?  I want people to read the variety of answers that I hope to get.  I want people to see that in the answers to this question, there probably lies someone out there in the same position you’re in…as is always the case, no matter the circumstance.  We are just never ever alone.  Really.  We’re not.  Will my plan work?  Eh, I don’t know.  But I’m willing to bet that if people participate, it’s at least going to be entertaining to read, don’t ya think!?  And keep in mind, I don’t want an essay or anything.  Just one sentence will do.  Whether it’s “I’m single and I plan to curl in a ball and cry into the wee hours of the morn,” or “I’m deliriously in love and plan to chronicle ever single moment of my dinner/dancing/smooching lovefest on Facebook for all the world to see,” we want to read them all.  Well.  Sort of.  😉

Chicken Soup Dating GameAnd, then, on the dreaded V-Day, I will put all of the commenters names in a hat (or bowl or scattered all the floor, whatever) and I will draw a name at random at 3:00 p.m. and will send the winner an autographed copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game.  Check back here on my blog for the winner’s name and instructions on how to claim your prize.  If you’ve already purchased a book from me, enter anyway!  You can give it as a gift, maybe even with a copy of this blog so they know why you’re giving it to them.  Or, you may even opt to participate but not accept the prize and allow me to draw another name.  Either way – you’re a winner.  Right?  Let’s spread the love, people.  (And if I wasn’t a struggling, broke wannabe writer, I’d give you something better than a book, but hey – you can only give what ya got, right?…)

So.  We good?  You understand the rules?  Ok, then.  Let’s do this.  Ready, set….comment.

Seriously.  Show someone they’re not alone this Valentine’s Day.  That may just be all one person out there needs to know.

***

“If you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love.”
– Maya Angelou

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07

Feb. ’14

Coke

“The essence of the beautiful is unity in variety.”
–  Felix Mendelssohn

Ok.  So, unless you’ve been living under a rock since the Super Bowl aired, I’m guessing you’ve probably heard about the backlash that Coke has received for its ‘controversial’ ad aired during the game.  Didn’t see the commercial?  Well, here ya go.  Take a look:

I know I’m not going to say anything new with this blog.  Anything I have to say about my opinion on this matter has probably been said by many others.  And that’s fine.  But I still think it’s important for my voice to be heard, even amid all the others.  As Plato is quoted as saying: “Your silence gives consent.”  Well, that’s not going to happen for this girl.  I’m going to say what I have to say about the matter, and then move on.

What is the ‘controversy’ you ask?  Well, obviously, we see a video filled with people of differing nationalities, ethnicities, etc. singing America the Beautiful.  And some of our fellow Americans are saying that this is *ahhem* “un-American.”

So, first of all, I suppose I should say that I shouldn’t be surprised.  Hardly anything can happen these days without some type of controversy surrounding it, especially when it involves differences among fellow human beings (*gasp!* Heaven forbid!).  But even though I readily agree that I shouldn’t be surprised, I still have to admit that I am.  Seriously, people?  We’re still at this point?

For God’s sake, what is it going to take??

Let me ask you to do something.  Look to your left.  Now, look to your right.  And I want you to tell me what you see.  Do you see someone who looks exactly like you?  Someone who wears their hair the same way, has the same family background that you do, the same job, the same amount of money in their bank account?  Do you see someone who has the same number of children you do (or lack thereof), the same eye color, the exact same skin tone?  Does that person share your religion?  Is every single thing about them exactly the same as you?

Duh.  I’m guessing probably not.  And you know why that is?  BECAUSE WE ARE ALL DIFFERENT.  That’s just all there is to it.  We are not a world made up of robots.  The differences are wide and numerous and there’s no way I could sit here and list them all.  But here’s the thing: just because something is different, that doesn’t make it wrong.  Why is that so hard to understand for some people?

What gives anyone…anyone…the right to decide which differences are ok, and which ones aren’t?   So, the person to your left came from a lower class neighborhood than you did, and that’s ok.  But their first language isn’t English, and that’s not ok?  Which background differences are ones you’ll accept and which ones aren’t?  Aren’t you kind of playing God there, my friend?

And back to Coke.  First of all, every single one of the people in their ad was an American.  They said so.  They didn’t go to other countries to film this.  They didn’t bring people from other countries in to sing about our great nation.  No, they chose Americans.  Our friends and neighbors that make up our diverse land.  And they tried to show you the beauty that exists in that.  And why are we surprised that they did this?  One of the most memorable ads from my childhood is the one that Coke did in the 70s using the song, “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing.”  Remember that one?

Here’s a portion of the lyrics:

I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony.
I’d like to hold it in my arms, and keep it company
I’d like to see the world for once all standing hand in hand.
And hear them echo through the hills for peace throughout the land.

Man. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Coke has always stuck to the theme that America is beautiful.  And it’s the diversity that makes it so.  We are supposed to pride ourselves in our acceptance of every walk of life.  Of not forcing one religion or one life path onto the millions of people who grace our land.  [Take a look at some of the other third world countries for a second if you’ve forgotten how blessed you are to live here.]  So, with the controversy that has sprung from this one commercial, what are we telling other countries?  What message are we sending to them?  And even more importantly, what message are we sending to ourselves?  To our children?

Again, like I said, I’m not saying anything that I’m sure hasn’t already been said.  I’m not changing the world and I’m most likely not changing any minds.  Unfortunately, when I type the last word on this blog and click ‘publish,’ the world will continue on as it was before…there will still be hatred, bigotry, exclusion, and hypocrisy.  I simply cannot change that.

But you know what else is going to happen after I click ‘publish’?

I am going to wrap up my work day, and then I’m headed to pick up the biggest variety of kids you’ve ever seen. Boys, girls, scholars, goofballs, white, black, geeks, jocks…you name it, I’m getting them.  And I’m transporting them all to my house for my daughter’s 14th birthday party sleepover.  We are going to eat pizza and cupcakes and watch movies and laugh until late into the night.  We’re going to sing Happy Birthday at midnight to my baby as she turns 14 (in whatever language the kids want to sing it in).  For this one night among all of the others, we are all going to come together for one purpose – to have fun celebrating a unique, talented, open-minded little teenager’s birthday.  And then tomorrow, we’re all going to go back to our separate lives.  Our separate family units, our separate religions, our separate homes.

No, I cannot change the world.  I know that.  But tomorrow as I say goodbye to this wide variety of my daughter’s friends as they return to their varied lives, I can bask in the glow of knowing that I have impacted and influenced one small part of the world.  I have raised a beautiful daughter who knows no bounds in the love she feels for those around her.  There are no exclusions when it comes to being her friend.  The more different you are, so much the better.  I have a raised a daughter that knows to look beyond outward differences, and dig a little deeper to see the heart that lies inside.

For this, I am proud.  And for this, I will continue to voice my stance on the importance of unity amid diversity.  Because I know, in the deepest part of my being, that at least one person is listening.

kelcollage

***

“Even if unity of faith is not possible, a unity of love is.”
– Hans Urs von Balthasar

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03

Feb. ’14

God’s Will?

godbird3

Ok, so since my Jesus post from a few weeks ago didn’t get me stoned, I’m gonna try this one out and see what happens.

I have a friend on Facebook who recently posted about the fact that he has battled and defeated many addictions throughout the course of his life, ranging from alcohol to food.  He made a blanket statement about how he was surprised at the fact that he had gotten through those trials, because he doesn’t feel like he has very much willpower.  So, as is par for the course with Facebook, the comments started rolling in.  And amid many of the well-intentioned comments, there seemed to exist the same theme.

“That’s because it wasn’t you, it was God’s work.”

“It was God’s will that you made it through.”

“God did it.”

*sigh*

Ok.  Get your stones ready.

Every single time I see comments like this, I shudder a little.  I’ve never really understood why that is.  Like I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m not the most religious person on the planet.  But I do believe there’s a God.  I do.  So, why does it bother me when I hear stuff like that?  Shouldn’t it make me feel good?  Strengthen my belief in the God that I believe in?

Well, this particular instance got me to thinking about this very thing.  I dug a little deeper into why those statements bother me so much, and this blog is about what I came up with.  Will you agree with me?  I don’t know.  It doesn’t matter, really.  When it comes to religion, politics, and all that other good controversial stuff, it’s rare to find two people who truly see eye-to-eye on it all.  And that’s ok.  But I’m going to share my viewpoint with you anyway.

I started this blog with a picture/quote by J. G. Holland that says “God gives every bird its food, but he does not throw it into its nest.” (And I can’t even begin to tell you how long it took to find one with the correct usage of its/it’s.  Phew!  I finally gave up and made my own.  Sheesh!  But, hey, that’s a blog for another day.  Back to the story….)  To be quite honest with you, I think that quote stands alone and says about all that I need to say.  Thank you, Mr. Holland.  But let me elaborate a little more anyway, because that’s what I do.

To me, what this quote is saying is that yes, the answers to our problems are out there.  They’re available to us.  God’s not gonna leave us hanging.  Like He says in Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you…”  I firmly believe that the God I believe in is not one who is going to toss some bad things our way and watch us suffer with no way out.  In fact, I don’t believe He is the one who throws bad things our way at all.  Life does that.  But regardless, there is going to be a way out of them.

But, see, here’s the thing.  It’s not going to happen until we get off our butts and do something to make it happen.  It’s not going to magically appear.

So, when people make such comments as “It was God’s will,” or “God did it,” I just can’t bring myself to believe that.  God may be the one who provided the answer (i.e. the “food for the birds”), but I don’t believe He is the one who made it happen (i.e. “dropped it in its mouth”).  In the case of my Facebook friend here, God did not stick down his big hand and physically turn my friend away from those addictions.  My friend did that.  He made the choice to turn away from those addictions and do the legwork that it took to break those bad habits.  And does he deserve the credit?  You bet he does.

annie2I compare this to when my own child got the chance to play the lead role in our local production of Annie.  Was I proud of her?  Holy crap, you bet I was.  But did I take the credit for her performance?  Of course not.  I may have helped her along the way.  I may have advised her, encouraged her, and supported her.  But did I do it for her?  Of course, I didn’t.  And if someone claimed as much, I’d probably be offended that they were focused on me and not giving her the credit she deserved.

I don’t think God feels much differently about His children as I do about mine.  Do you?

Why are we so scared of being proud of ourselves?  Or of allowing someone else to feel the pride that they deserve to feel?

I know we’ve all heard the saying “Pride goeth before a fall.”  Maybe that’s where this unfounded fear comes from.  But what you probably didn’t know is that this term is actually a shortened version of the verse found in Proverbs 16:18 that says: “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”  When you look at that term in its entirety, as it is fully stated in the proverb, the “pride” it’s referring to is not the pride that comes from feeling as if you’ve done something good.  Merriam-Webster’s dictionary defines “pride” in two ways:

  1. Pride:  a feeling that you are more important and better than other people; and
  2. Pride:  a feeling of happiness that you get when you or someone you know does something good, difficult, etc.

That first definition is what that verse is referring to.  Not the second.  Pride is a feeling of happiness.  Don’t you think God wants us to be happy?  There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of yourself.  Nothing.  And, on that same token, there’s nothing wrong with encouraging people to feel that pride in themselves.  They worked hard; they deserve it.  And the crazy thing is that the more pride you feel in yourself, the more likely you’ll be to keep going.  Whether it’s fighting an addiction, working to better yourself physically, or maybe even…oh, I don’t know…writing?  When someone recognizes your abilities and your talents, it really is ok to accept that recognition and bask in the glow of a job well done.  Besides, you never know who you might be inspiring in the process.

So, hey.  Maybe that might be something for you to think about the next time you innocently tell someone that it was God’s will when something good happens.  Don’t negate what they have done by telling them that they didn’t do it.  And don’t make the others out there who haven’t had such good fortune wonder why God isn’t on their side too.  It’s just silly.  Recognize them for the good that they have done, and congratulate them for it.  They worked hard for it, whether they realize it or not, and they deserve to feel pride in themselves for what they’ve accomplished.  And if you’re one of those people who deflect the compliments in that same manner?  Maybe you should work on not doing that anymore.  Yes, maybe God provided support and encouragement along the way, much like I did for my daughter as she found her way to playing the role of Annie, but I certainly didn’t pick her up and place her on that stage.  Recognize your own efforts and applaud them.

And you know what?  I’d be willing to bet that God is pretty darn proud of you, too.

***

“Calm self-confidence is as far from conceit as the desire to earn a decent living is remote from greed.”
– Channing Pollock

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29

Jan. ’14

Brandy

“A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves – a special kind of double.”
– Toni Morrison

Have I ever mentioned that I have an 11-year-old sister?

Yep, it’s true.  My teenage children have an 11-year-old Aunt Brandy.  I know, crazy, right?  (And you better believe she tries to use that fact when they’re arguing over something…”You HAVE to listen to me, I’m your aunt!”…)

familysibsNow, Brandy’s not my only sister, mind you.  I’m actually the oldest of a clan of six.  My mom and dad split when I was just a baby, so I’m the only biological child they had.  But then my mom remarried and had my three sisters and one brother.  My dad, on the other hand, didn’t get around to having any more children until much later in life when Brandy came along, so now he is the proud father of two daughters….24 years apart!

Well, recently I’ve started to notice something.  I’m thinking this whole ‘writing’ thing may have come from my dad’s side of the family.  Because that little 11-year-old has some seriously mad skills with the written word.

Here, let me show you something.

Sleepless

No dreams. No rest. No nothing. Night after night of restlessness. Night turns into day, and day into night. Over and over again. No sleep. Sleepless.

I lay awake on a cold, rainy night. Looking out the window and seeing all the lights off I think “Ah. So many people can get sleep. But, why can’t I?” The windows are as cold as ice. Touching the window made my fingers numb. But, I still feel that lifeless cold against my fingers as I look out into the darkness. No sleep. None.

Sleep well, my friends. Because there are those who are sleepless night after night…

Umm…hello!?  Did I mention she’s ELEVEN YEARS OLD?  Look out, missyspublicjunk, I think brandysbetteratthisthanmissy is on your tail!

Or, how about this one?

Hard To Love

Have you ever felt like you can’t be loved or you can’t love anyone? Truth is, everyone in some way is hard to love.

Maybe it’s that little anger issue you have. Or you cry so easily that your friends tease you over it. It could be that you won “Miss Drama Queen Of The Year.” You could like nerds and geeks. You could have likes and dislikes far bizarre than others’. You might put up a wall between you and other people. And there’s still over millions of other things that make people hard to love! But we all are human beings. We have our flaws. We are who we are. You should be proud of yourself for all that you’ve done!

So next time when you feel unloved, remember, you’re not the only one. EVERYONE is hard to love.

Again.  ELEVEN.

How about this line from a poem she wrote entitled “I Am From”:

“I am from darkness, with pieces of heaven falling down…”

I am just absolutely blown away at the talent this little girl possesses.  I wonder if she knows that?  I’ve told her so, but I wonder if she really knows it, you know?

My dad told me that she has been reading my blog.  He thinks that seeing what I have written has influenced and encouraged her to write.  Wow.  How proud I am to have influenced something so great.

mebranSee, I used to be eleven, too.  I used to sit in my room writing feverishly in my little trapper keeper.  Poems, stories, journal entries.  You name it, I wrote it.  And I didn’t show anyone.  What if they didn’t like it?  What if they made fun of me?  But not this 11-year-old.  This girl is putting her writing out there for the world to see.  Thank goodness she has that kind of courage.  It took me over 30 years to find it.

This girl is going to go places.  And I hope she knows how proud of her I am.

Thanks for letting me take the time to brag on my little sis.

***

“A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.”
– Marion C. Garretty

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 4 Comments

28

Jan. ’14

Scary Stuff

“In all affairs, it’s a healthy thing now and then to hang a question mark on the things you have long taken for granted.”
– Bertrand Russell

If you’re my Facebook friend, you’ve probably seen my posts related to the fact that I was sick last week.  If you’re a blog reader who is not a Facebook friend, then you’ve probably noticed that I’ve been somewhat AWOL for a while.  Well, let me give you a run down on why that is.  (And stick with me now…I’m not just whining about my ‘illness.’  There’s a point to this, I promise.)

[Although, feeling sorry for me about my illness is totally acceptable.  Welcomed even.  And, hey, if you want to swing by and cook me dinner one night or have some flowers sent to me or anything, I’m cool with that, too.  *Ahhem.*  Ok, continuing on…]

Early last week, a slight dizziness I had previously started to notice suddenly and unexpectedly went full force on me.  It got to the point where I could barely stand up without needing to hold on to a wall.  I went to the doctor on Wednesday (a new doctor, by the way, because of my new location – not my previous doctor…This info is important, so remember that…), and after a thorough exam and no findings of any inner ear infections (which I had suspected) or anything of that nature, I was diagnosed with BPPV.  That stands for Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo, which basically means unexplained vertigo.  So, given this diagnosis, I proceeded to take the prescribed anti-nausea and motion sickness medicine, and work on some physical exercises that were supposed to help me regain my balance.

Well, nothing worked.  In fact, I only got worse.  And worse.  And worse.

It got to the point where dizziness was the least of my concerns.  My right arm started at first to just tingle (like it was asleep), but then to almost get to the point where it wasn’t functioning at all.  I caught myself reaching over with my left hand to move my right arm where it needed to go.  And then, it started affecting my legs.

My legs.

I’m a runner, for goodness sakes.  And suddenly, in a matter of a week, I went from being a runner to barely being able to walk.  Nothing “hurt” really.  They just wouldn’t work.  It was a crazy feeling…it was like I couldn’t concentrate and think well enough to tell my legs to move like they were supposed to.  I was terrified.

I went to the ER.  Twice.  They couldn’t find anything wrong with me.  NOTHING.  My heart was fine.  My brain was fine.  (Ha!  The quacks…) But seriously, nothing was showing up on any tests.  My body was falling apart, and there was no explanation whatsoever.  One of my Facebook contacts referred to me as a “drama queen,” and while it thoroughly pissed me off (you go from being an avid runner to practically not even being able to move in a week and let me know how ‘dramatic’ it feels to you, pal!), I was starting to think he had a point.  I felt like death was imminent (not much exaggeration there, trust me), and there was no discernible reason for it.

I was losing my mind.

So, there I was, huddled into a ball on the bed on Friday night when I got a message from my sweet friend Iman asking how I was doing.  There are some people in your life who ask that question and you reply, “I’m fine.”  Then there are the people in your life like Iman.  The people who know better than to ask that question if they don’t really want the truth, because they’re about to get it.  So, I told her.  I told her how bad it had gotten and how desperate I was feeling.  And how scared.  She immediately tried helping by asking all the questions that the doctors had asked.  What are my symptoms, how long have they been going on, have I tried this, have I tried that, am I on any particular medications….we went through the whole nine yards of questioning.  And then…

She asked a question the doctors hadn’t asked.  And one that I had never even thought to mention.

Have you recently stopped taking any medications?

*Ding ding ding*

Now, I’ve been told I have a wide reach with this blog.  And that I have more of an influence on people with my words than I may even realize.  So, I guess you could say this blog serves as my soapbox.  Or, my platform, if you will.  And with that being the case, I’m about to utilize that in a way that I think is very important.  I’m about to talk about the thing that is supposed to be kept secret.  The thing no one is supposed to talk about in polite company.  The thing I should be ashamed of.  The thing some people (including members of my own family) look down on and think less of you for because it admits ‘weakness.’

That thing?  Depression meds.  Yep, I was on them.

That’s right.  Me.  The girl who writes these uplifting blogs.  Who always sees the bright side of things, the underlying lessons in the hard times, the silver lining…blah, blah, blah.  Yep, that same girl has been on depression medication for the past few months.  (And guess what?  It wasn’t the first time, either.)

About 3 months ago, I went to my family doctor over a sore throat.  While I was there, I described to her how ‘low’ I had been lately.  I wasn’t interested in my usual things anymore (running, theatre, writing…) and I was very snippy.  Not only at home with my poor kids and boyfriend, but also at work.  I just seemed to be on edge all of the time and there was no apparent reason why.  So, we discussed my taking a low-dose depression med, and I agreed.

And it helped.  It really did.  In no time, I felt my old self coming back.  I just needed a little jump start.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago.  I caught myself skipping a pill here and there, and at this point I realized I had already missed about 4 days in a row.  So, I thought, I don’t need this stuff anymore.  All is well.  So, I stopped them altogether.

Well, guess what?  You’re not supposed to do that.

I had heard that you’re not supposed to stop those meds cold turkey like that.  That you’re supposed to wean off of them with a doctor’s advice.  But psssh.  In my usual Melissa way, I ignored that and just did it my way.  And buddy, let me tell ya, I suffered the consequences.

Immediately after Iman’s suggestion, I googled the side effects of stopping these meds.  Everything matched to a tee.  Apparently I was having severe withdrawal symptoms.  My new doctor didn’t catch that, because when asked if I was on any medications, I said no.  I didn’t think to mention that I had stopped one a few weeks ago – didn’t think it mattered.  (Lesson learned.)  So…I immediately dug them back out, took one, and waited to see what happened.  I woke up the next day feeling some better.  Took another, and woke up the next day feeling 100% back to normal.

Just like that.

No dizziness, no nausea, my legs and arms worked.  No more confusion, no more mood swings.  Just like that – I was ‘healed.’

Wow.

Now, why am I telling you this story?  Two reasons.

pillsFor one thing, I wanted to let everyone know that I’m human.  I mean, I know my superior awesomeness might have had you doubting that fact, but alas, ’tis true.  No, seriously, I wanted to make this ‘confession’ of sorts.  The primary reason for this blog is to talk about things that people can identify with.  If you are someone who has had to take this medication, why be ashamed of it?  Why is a chemical imbalance more embarrassing that a cold?  It’s silly.  It’s a sickness, and if you need medication, you need medication.  That’s all there is to it.  Just be careful to research the type that you’re on and make sure it’s the right one for you.  Discuss the side effects with your doctor and especially pay attention to the procedure with coming off of them when the time is right.  (Which, by the way, is for you AND your doctor to decide.  Not just you.  Even if you’re ‘superiorly awesome’ like me.  I know, I’m shocked too….)

But the other reason?  The other purpose for this blog?

I wanted to tell the ones who aren’t on this or other similar medications a few things.  First – to the ones who think you may need to be but are too embarrassed to seek help.  I have some deep, philosophical words of wisdom and advice for you.

Stop that crap.

Seriously, just stop it.  Medication is there for a reason.  If you need it, you need it.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  You don’t have to go blog about it or anything (I mean, come on, that would be stupid), but you don’t have to keep it a secret either.  You know?  If you need help ask for it.  Chemical imbalances and general overall sadness can wreak havoc on your life.  You have a choice:

strong

Continue in your misery, or seek help.  It’s that simple.  Really.  I promise.  It’s that simple.

And secondly, to the other set of people who aren’t on this medication and are certain that it’s unnecessary and that it’s a sign of weakness (you know who you are).  My message to you is the same.  Stop that crap.  Stop it.  YOU are not the smartest person on the planet, contrary to what you might believe.  You don’t know everything about everything.  Medication is there for a reason.  It’s necessary.  And it’s not your place or my place or anyone else’s place to judge whether or not someone chooses to accept that help that is available to them. Until you’ve been there, you don’t understand.  Trust me on this.  Got it?

Seriously.  Just stop it.

Let’s just love each other.  Okay?  When we need help, let’s get it.  When someone we love needs help, let’s support them.  Be smart.  Research.  Do what the doctor says.

The mind and spirit needs just as much attention as the physical body does when it comes to keeping healthy.  I’ve always heard that if you have your health, then you have everything.  After my scary week last week, I get it.  I soooo get it.

So, to summarize.  If you’re on medication for depression –  awesome.  Nothing to be ashamed of.  Take them like you’re supposed to and, please listen when I say this, don’t stop them cold turkey.  Talk to your doctor about when the time is right for you to come off of them and do it the right way.  Now, to those who are not on them but think you might need to be – go talk to someone about it.  Seriously.  Go.  You’ll be amazed at how different you feel.  Like the quote said above, making yourself miserable or putting forth effort to make yourself strong both take the same about of work.  Choose the smart route.  Get help. Ok?  And, finally, to those who are not on them and think badly of the people who are?  Stop it.  That’s it.  Just stop it.  You’re being a big jerkface.

We clear?

Ok.  That’s all I have to say.

And now, I’m off to run.  (And thank God for it….)

***

“To keep the body in good health is a duty….otherwise we shall not be able to keep our mind strong and clear.”
– Buddha

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. 14 Comments

17

Jan. ’14

Kindness

kindness

Something happened at work a few weeks ago that I still can’t seem to shake from my mind.  It wasn’t anything earth-shattering.  It wasn’t something that would normally make any kind of long-lasting impression.  And yet – for some reason – it has stuck with me.  And for a writer like myself, that means I probably better sit down and let my fingers and the keyboard figure it out for me.  So here goes.

First of all, I’m a real estate paralegal.  Not sure if I’ve ever mentioned that in this blog before, but there ya go.  That’s what I do in my real life.  You know, so I won’t starve.  Basically, I do the legal paperwork for people as they buy, sell, or refinance their homes.  Now, I’ve always worked for attorneys, but I haven’t always specialized in real estate.  My first job right out of the gate was for an attorney who handled a variety of practices, including domestic relations.  That was the department I worked in.  I would sit in and listen to the depositions of people who were going through divorces.  I would field the phone calls of irate exes who wanted this, that and the other and wanted it no later than yesterday.  I would see tears fall as people came by to pick up their final divorce decrees.

In other words, it was depressing as crap.

So, as soon as I started working more in real estate, I decided that was the way I wanted to go.  There were MUCH less tears shed over the transfer of ownership of a building than there was over the transfer of people’s children and marital statuses.  So, a real estate paralegal I became.

Now, for the most part, I made the right decision.  There was definitely less drama here in this side of the legal field.   People selling a house were usually happy.  They got money.  People buying a house were usually happy.  They got a house.  People refinancing a house were usually happy.  They lowered their payments and got a better rate.  So yes, the real estate field was a relatively calm and happy place to be.

But then?  *sigh*  Then, there was the real estate crash a few years ago.  And things just aren’t quite so black and white anymore.

Refinances?  A nightmare.  To get a loan to go through, people have to give everything shy of a pint of blood from their oldest offspring.  I’m not exaggerating much, trust me.  And sales?  A lot of times we have sellers who are actually bringing money to closing in order to get their property sold.  Yep, you read that right – they have to pay to sell their house.  We see that way more often than you’d think.  And don’t even get me started on the foreclosures…  Just take my word for it, this real estate stuff is not all sunshine and lollipops anymore.

Why am I telling you this?  Well, here’s why.

In the course of a normal business day, I try my absolute best to maintain a friendly demeanor.  I really do.  (Well, with clients, that is.  Not with my co-workers…I’m not that good of an actress…)  But sometimes?  Well, sometimes it’s just hard not to slightly snap back when I’m on the phone with people who are getting snippy with me.  Especially when the person on the other end of the line happens to not even be our client.  When doing a purchase transaction, oftentimes the buyers and sellers will retain separate attorneys to represent their interests in the sale.  Most of the time, I’m handling the buyer’s side of things since I’m doing the closing paperwork (the buyer’s attorney is the settlement agent – meaning we conduct the closing).  Now, I’m telling you all this boring mumbo jumbo because it’s important info for you to know in order to understand this particular incident that won’t leave my mind.

So, here I am, in the midst of working on a closing that is scheduled for later the same day.  As is par for the course these days, I’m down to the last minute working on the stressful details to try to wrap things up so the closing can be completed.  I’m waiting on a signed document from a seller who, like I explained above, is not our client, when an email pops up from the realtor representing said seller.  The email states:  “Melissa, there may be a delay in receiving the settlement statement from the seller today.  Her husband just passed away this morning.  She will get you what you need as quickly as she can.”

Wow.  Her husband just died?  What a tragedy.  Knowing the circumstances now, of course, we are very understanding and will accommodate in anyway possible.  A delay in receiving her signature?  No problem at all.  Totally understandable.

And then, the phone rings.

No sooner had I clicked off of the email than I heard the seller’s voice on the on the other end of the line asking for me.  Now, although she introduced herself, she did not once mention what had happened to her this morning, and probably didn’t realize I knew.  She just immediately started…how do I put this?…complaining.  Every single thing on the settlement statement that she needed to sign was wrong.  I didn’t do this right.  I didn’t do that right.  Her property taxes were already paid and I was showing that they weren’t.  (FYI – They weren’t paid.)  She went on a tirade about all the things that was wrong and that I needed to fix IMMEDIATELY.

Whoa.

So, let me tell you how the Melissa who had not just received that email might have responded.

“Ma’am.  Your taxes are NOT paid.  I called the county tax office to confirm and they told me so themselves.  Would you like their number?  I’ll be glad to give it to you.  Any and all other concerns will need to go directly through your realtor or your attorney – we do not represent you.”

The end.  (And you can rest assured that there would probably be a little snip to my tone of voice as well.)

But the Melissa who had just read that email?  The Melissa who now knows that this poor woman has just lost her husband this very morning?  Well, here’s how she responded.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry there are so many problems.  Let’s deal with them one at a time.  As for your property taxes, I understand you’re from Florida and the way Florida and North Carolina pay their taxes differs and may be what is causing the confusion….”  And so on, and so forth.

Because I knew what she was going through, I softened my tone (and my attitude) and helped her to understand what was wrong.  Together, we went through each issue item by item and came to an understanding and an agreement.  By the time we hung up the phone, she sounded much more pleasant and even somewhat relieved to now understand what she had perceived as issues.  She never told me what had happened to her that morning.  Not once.  She provided no explanation whatsoever.  She was just a somewhat frantic, understandably distraught woman trying to take care of necessary business that had to be attended to in the midst of unthinkable sorrow.  And I knew that because I had received that email just prior to her call.

But what if I hadn’t?

And how many times have I spoken to people just like her without receiving an explanatory email beforehand?

Yep.  Makes you stop and think, doesn’t it?

Now, believe me, I’m preaching to the choir with this one.  I need this lesson as much as you do, probably more.  But I’m asking you to do what I’m going to try to do from now on…treat everyone as if they’re fragile.  You know?  Sure, maybe the hateful person you’re dealing with has no excuse whatsoever to be acting the way they’re acting.  Maybe they’re just a jerk.  Maybe there’s no sad, heartbreaking explanation for their horrible attitude.

But, then again. Maybe there is.

Maybe there’s more to the story than you know.  Maybe they’re under a stress that you can’t even begin to imagine.  Maybe they’re hanging on by a thread.

Maybe they just lost a loved one right before speaking to you.

We just never know, do we?

Something to think about.

***

If we knew each others secrets, what comforts we should find.”
– John Churton Collins

 

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 2 Comments

10

Jan. ’14

Aaliyah

“I run because I can.  When I get tired, I remember those who can’t run, what they’d give to have this simple gift I take for granted, and I run harder for them.  I know they would do the same for me.”
– Unknown

Hey there, Blog World.  I would like to introduce you to someone.

Ladies and gentlemen: meet Aaliyah.

Aaliyahblog2Is this not the most gorgeous little soon-to-be-5-year-old you’ve ever seen?  And now, I’m going to tell you the story of Miss Aaliyah, and how she came into my life.

As some of you may know, I’m a runner.  If you’re new to my blog, you may not realize that fact since I haven’t really talked about it in a while.  I just ran my second half marathon in November (after running my first in May), and have been a bit of a slacker ever since.  As I’m sure a lot of runners will understand and relate with, I was having a bit of a post-race slump.  But as the New Year approached, I started to remember some promises I had made to myself.  One promise, in particular.

Last year, I insisted that 2014 would be the year I ran my first marathon.

I even started a training plan and had a race picked out for April 2014.  Well, I’ll just be quite honest with you…that idea fizzled.  If you’ve never trained for a distance race, let me explain what happens.  Pretty much everything in your life has to take a backseat to training.  I’m not kidding.  Even when you’re not running, you’re thinking about running.  The things you eat and drink change, the amount of sleep you get changes (or at least you stress over the fact that you’re not getting enough), your weekend plans have to revolve around your ‘long run’ day.  Etc. Etc. Etc.  And I only know all of this from training for a half marathon.  Training for a full marathon?  Yeah, double all of that.  It’s a commitment.  A big one.  Because of the holidays and the cold weather and the release of the book, Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game, that contains my story (woohoo!) and all of the hoopla that went with it, I decided I didn’t quite have the time to devote to training for a marathon just yet.

And then, I found Aaliyah.

irun4A few months ago, prior to my running slump, I stumbled across the Facebook page for a community called IRun4.  After I started doing a little research, I found their website and got pretty excited about the whole idea.  Basically, this is a program that ‘matches’ runners with children with disabilities.  You strike up a friendship with the child’s parent and you dedicate your logged miles to the child.  It’s really a way to motivate both sides.  The parent and their child (if they’re old enough to understand) know that there is a practical stranger out there in the world who cares about them and what they’re going through, and the runner is provided with a reminder of how blessed we are to have the health and ability to do this thing we love to do: run.  Another benefit?  It increases awareness.  Awareness of some of the illnesses we’ve never even heard of that these beautiful children (and their parents) are living with everyday.

Well, yesterday, after an almost 3-month spot on the waiting list, I received notification that I had been matched.  With beautiful little Aaliyah who lives in Texas with her mommy.   After speaking online with her mom, I was introduced to a disorder that I had never heard of.  Little Aaliyah has what is called Rett Syndrome.  The best way I know to describe this is to use a phrase I have found on many of the websites I’ve researched:

Imagine the symptoms of Autism, Cerebral Palsy, Parkinson’s, Epilepsy and a variety of anxiety disorders all rolled into one little girl.  That’s Rett Syndrome.

This is what Aaliyah has to battle every day of her life.

Now, this is all new to me.  All I know about the disease is what I’ve read since hearing the term for the first time yesterday.  I don’t live with it every day like Aaliyah and her young mom do, so I don’t really know what life is like for them.  But I plan to learn.  And I plan to do more research and I plan to become more aware of what little Aaliyah’s life is like.  And until I can find another way to support the disease itself, I will do the only thing I know to do here in my little world half way across the country from her – I will run for her.  Each time I put on my running shoes, I will say a little prayer for Aaliyah and her mom and send good vibes and love their way.  And I will hope that they feel them.

AaliyahblogAnd….I will start searching for my first full marathon somewhere this fall.  What better reason to go the distance, right?  First on the agenda:  training for another half marathon in early May (the same one I did as my first half last year).  With Aaliyah’s little spirit cheering me on, I think this is going to be a successful running year.

So, little Aaliyah in Texas – I am going to do my best to not let you down.  I will earn the distinction as your running buddy and will do all I can to promote awareness of what you are going through.  I will keep you in my prayers and in my heart and will remember you and your mommy and hope that you know that each step I take from this moment on, is for you. 

Because, after all….

Aaliyahblog4

One little girl out there in the world is going to know that she is thought about and loved.  I won’t let you down, kiddo.

Here’s to a 2014 filled with running successes and wonderful new friendships.

***

In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.” 
– Albert Schweitzer

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings, Running. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 4 Comments

06

Jan. ’14

Jesus

jesus

Yep.  That’s the one.  You did, in fact, read that title right.  This blog is about Jesus.

Now, don’t worry.  If you’re not religious, I’m not going to preach at ya here.  Believe me, I’m the last one to do that.  I’m not sure I fall in the ‘religious’ category myself (whatever that word means…).  To be honest, I’m not sure what I believe at all, so I’m sure as heck not going to tell you what to believe.  I just want to tell you about something that caught my attention yesterday.  And maybe, just maybe, it might mean something to you, too.

First, a little background.

I was raised in a Baptist church.  Southern Baptist at that.  For most of you, no further explanation is needed here.  For the rest of you:  let’s just say that it is thoroughly ingrained in my brain that pretty much everything I do is going to send me straight to Hell.  And with that being the case, it’s also ingrained in my brain that I better have my heathen butt in church every Sunday morning in order to atone for everything I’ve done throughout the week, and to plead and beg for the Big Man to reach down his big, scary, arm of fear to alter my Hell-destined course at least long enough for me to make it back to church the next Sunday to start the process all over again.

You follow me?

Ok.  So, as you can probably tell from my veiled bitterness in that last paragraph, I’m sure it’s needless of me to say that some of that ‘teaching’ is starting to fade a little as my adult mind starts to mature somewhat past all this (somewhat).  In fact, I have turned into what some (read: my grandma) may refer to as ‘rebellious.’  Pssssh.  Innocent lil ol’ me?  Rebellious?  But alas, ’tis true.

And yet.

Yet, rebellious little heathen mind and all, I still feel that incessant pull to go to church.  And, most of the time, I still heed to that pull.  Why is that, I wonder?  Eh, that’s a topic for another blog, I suppose.  The point is this: even though I don’t do the “resolution” thing per se, the New Year still comes tapping on my shoulder every year reminding me that it’s time to reassess and maybe work on a few things here and there.  And, in this case, 2014 seemed to be reminding me that it was time to get back to attending church.

Now, as luck would have it, Richard and I finally found a church that felt like ‘home’ to us a little over a year ago.  Even though we’re not the most regular attenders there ever were (see above: I’m working on that), we still both feel like we’ve found a place that feels a little more comfortable to us than most.  They just seem to be focused on that whole “love thy neighbor” stuff, rather than hell fire and brimstone, and we both seem to like that.  We like that a lot actually.  And, since our kids loved going to Sunday school, we even managed to find our way into our own adult Sunday school class.  After a somewhat prolonged absence, we all trudged back yesterday to work on this ‘regular attendance’ thing, and were greeted with hugs and a genuine collective “welcome back” that made us realize how much we had missed it.  (And, incidentally, there were no “Where have you been?”s at all.  Imagine that.)

So, there we sat in our Sunday school class, studying the book of James, when something seemed to absolutely jump out of the Bible at me.  (Me! Heathen rebel and all!)  Sitting right there in the second chapter was this phrase:

“…mercy triumphs over judgment.” James 2:13, NIV

Wait…what?  Did I just read that right?  Mercy?  You mean that whole “It’s ok, I understand that you’re human and you’re going to make mistakes” thing?  THAT is going to win over “You messed up chick, pack your bags for your trip to Hell?”  Surely not.

Yet there it was, people.  Right there in black and white.

Now, granted, these weren’t actually Jesus’ words.  But they came from James, who was Jesus’ brother.  And by brother, I don’t mean “brother in Christ” or whatever.  I mean, brother.  Brother as in, “Moooom!  Jesus turned my water in to wine again!  Make him stop!”  That kind of brother.   James actually grew up with Jesus.  Physically grew up in the same house with the guy.  So, if I were a betting woman (which I’m not, betting is a sin…), I’d say that James probably knew where Jesus stood on things.  Wouldn’t you say?  And according to James, that’s how it works – mercy TRIUMPHS over judgment.

So, why did that affect me so much?  Here’s why.

Most of you who know me, know that part of my…um…issue with church, the Bible, religion, etc., lies in the fact that some people tend use this book as their weapon when suppressing the rights of some of the people I love most in this world.  Who am I referring to, you ask?  Oh, I’m so glad you brought up that question. [*drags out soapbox*]  My gay friends, that’s who.  I’m not sure why gay rights is such an issue to me…I mean, I’m not gay.  As far as I know, my children aren’t gay.  No one in my immediate family is gay.  And yet, for as far back as I can remember, I have felt such a stirring in my soul that gay people are not “sinners” and therefore, should not be treated any differently than me.  And yet, how could that be?  The Bible says so right there in black and white that they are.  How could I have been brought up the way I have, and yet still feel in my gut that something somewhere isn’t right with all of that?

Well, there you go.  Maybe James just answered that for me.  Maybe, just maybe, Jesus was not sent to judge us.  What?  No judgment?  Maybe he was sent to show mercy.  To ALL of us.  Maybe he was sent to remind us that it is NOT our place to make rules or judgments on people based on what ‘sin’ they are or are not committing.  In fact, maybe it’s not up to us to hypothesize on what is or isn’t a sin at all.  Whether you are a firm believer in the Bible, or the biggest atheist that ever walked the planet, either way you HAVE to admit that there are inconsistencies in that thing.  Right?  Come on, don’t lie.  You know they’re there.  One page will say one thing as plain as day, and then you turn the page and there’s the exact opposite.  And you’ll have people say that the inconsistencies just lie in differences in ‘interpretation’ and blah, blah, blah.    Ok, I get that.  But I don’t think James left much for interpretation, do you?  Mercy triumphs over judgment.

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

To me, not only does that mean that’s how God will treat me, but that means that’s how I should treat everybody else.  It is not my place to judge.  It’s not your place to judge.  It’s not the government’s place to judge.  Why is that so hard to understand?  Could someone explain that to me, please?  What am I missing here?

If you still fall in the category of belief that homosexuality is a sin, then that’s fine.  You believe what you believe.  But let me tell you something.  As for me?  This girl is a Sinner with a capital “S.”  I mean, I’ve sinned a BUNCH.  I mean a friggin major TON of sins.  I could fill this blog for YEARS with all of them.  But you know what I get to do?  Marry the man I love.  One day (yes, maybe against his will, but whatever…), I’m going to marry Richard.  And no one is going to stop me.  Scarlett “S” emblazoned on my chest and all, I will still get the chance to say “I do.”  And it is so incredibly unfair that my gay friends have to travel to other states to be afforded that same courtesy.

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

Man.  Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone lived by that part of the Bible?  Oh hey – since picking and choosing which parts to go by seems to be the norm these days, is it too late to cast my vote for this verse?  I’m straight so I still get a say in the matter, right?

*sigh*

I know, I know.  My SPF 250 is packed and ready to go….

***

“Let’s make a law that gay people can have birthdays, but straight people get more cake–you know, to send the right message to kids.”
– Bill Maher

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