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Better Not Bitter

Responding God's Way to Life's Challenges

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mental illness

An Ear to Listen

I had no reservations about revealing my past before that moment in class yesterday.  Perhaps it was hearing words I’d never written before…I’d never even thought of before sent me to a place I hadn’t visited either. I remembered.

I revealed my disconnection with self…why I was drawn to being “needed” by others…why it was so easy for me to allow people to drain me without much protest. The silence between my mother’s rants taught me to embrace my own version of peace.  The peace in my head…I shut out the world when I couldn’t flee literally. Now I see how I could be present, but still not there.

I needed someone to listen to me then, but I didn’t know what to say when I actually received it.

Now I know why God had allowed me to meet a the young lady in Walmart the other day. She’d just lost her husband and her words, “I just loss my husband and it’s been hard,” broke my heart.

I offered to pray for her before she revealed the reason she appeared so torn between working and giving up. I offered to wait, but I ended up just writing my phone number and a my disclaimer: “I’m not expert on grief, but if you need an ear to listen…”

I left there with a concern, but content that in a small way I’d lived up to my name.

I entered my first class yesterday morning and noticed my friend was absent.  My professor revealed the reason was that she too had experienced loss.  Her mother passed the night before. Immediately, I took out my phone to send a message.

I composed and erased.

I tapped and before sending placed the phone in my purse instead.

I said to myself I would wait until break. At break I erased again and thought about calling her, but I considered I didn’t want that before.

So I was honest.

After typing “I don’t know what to say. If you need an ear to listen call anytime.  Love you,” I hit send.

I needed someone to listen to me when my mother passed, but I didn’t know what to say.  So before God’s ear alone was the chosen receptacle.

Perhaps, allowing me to tell my story aloud was the first time I really felt heard by people. Maybe that was the reason for my tears.

Regardless, if nothing else, in that moment I realized my frailty.  Though I forgave her nearly two years ago, became whole mere months ago, I still have places in my heart to be mended. She loved me the best she could. I’m learning to love a little better with each passing day and I know I have a ways to go, but it’s still nice to have an ear to listen.

©2016 Nadia Davis. All rights Reserved.

It was Never Rejection

I cried in class today. I hadn’t planned to do so. I didn’t even cry when writing the piece I was required to read aloud. The assignment was to tell our story.  As a writer I almost did the paper before even reading the assigned chapters because I thought it would be that easy.

I mean what’s two pages of me? I’ve had this blog for three years and I have shared bits and pieces since the beginning…

Hmm…beginnings…

Beginnings can be so subjective.

Well, when I considered the topic from the week’s sermon and the topic from my life for the past few months, I should not have been shocked by the topic for the assignment bearing a name akin to both:

How has God redirected your life?

I had planned to write something totally different…yet, God saw fit to use this educational assignment as a means of confirming my spiritual one. It was also proven to be His opportunity to “right” mother’s story.

I found myself sharing how I was affectionately dubbed her shadow. I realized how much I missed her despite the diagnosis…Borderline Personality Disorder is not as fashionable as Bi-Polar or Schizophrenia I suppose. Yet, everything this week has led me back to her.  Redirected yet again from “me time” to develop an understanding of “her time.”

Before I had already been conflicted as to whether a dedication page was enough room to convey a daughter’s love, and then I recalled God whispering, “make room for Daddy.”  He alone would have to support me in this leg of the journey even more than He had before.  As tears fell against my heart’s demand, I understood

So while the dialogue of my life’s script seems riddled with unfortunate events, I’m no victim.  I was loved and for the first time in a long time, I sure it was never rejection, just redirection.

©2016 Nadia Davis. All rights Reserved.

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