The world is God's kingdom and I am merely the fool that brings a smile to the Holy One's face. - me

I fail at many things in life...and hard! I can see Jesus wincing and half way turning from the falls and blunders all over my existence while issuing a "I told her not to do that!" trying to hold back his laughter. But I am one of hard head and soft arse. That's what my grandma used to say, "A hard head makes for a soft behind." Because you get whoopings when you are stubborn, willful, and disobedient. LOL while the physical spankings hurt...the emotional, mental, and spiritual spankings are just bad. That pain sticks with you for a while.

Why am I the fool that stands before the Lord?

Many reasons. Too many to count here...my life is not just a roadmap of pain but also one of error. My own doing. If I would just listen instead of going off and doing my own thing...how much easier life would be. But nooooo...I have to test the boundaries, surpass limitations and jump head on into some bullcrap that isn't even meant for me. Crazy right? Why are there no warnings signals or flashing lights when you are about to do something stupid or insane? Why are the angels so quiet? Why does God not clear his throat and issue a "um-um" while shaking his head no?

I feel like most times he does that thing that Willy Wonka did with those kids (Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka) the dry and nonchalant "No, stop, don't...murder" while rolling his eyes at my tomfoolery. I know it's not like that. I'm just saying that I feel like that sometimes. Why am I not stopped?

Self – control. A thing I question whether or not I have in an abundance. If I do, it is stored up in vast amounts waiting to be used properly.

Well....I do use it, just not enough. The sitcom that my life has become needs no more drama or tragic comedy but ummm...what's that word....ummmm....relevance??? How does any of this help me in the long run? I wonder about stuff like this quite often. I mean, I accept that the things we go through help to build and shape us into the humans that we are and are to become but ... like...being a walking blooper reel...??? I'm embarrassed by the things I do at times. I cringe when I go over the memories of things that could have been avoided and feel shame that I let some things happen...even the things I clearly had no control over. The shame remains constant.

I had someone ask me in the most confident way imaginable – "When did you part ways with God?" Before I could answer they went on to say that they had been following me and it seems that I have lost my way, that I have been entertaining the devil a lot more than pleasing God. I was dumbfounded. What did they see in me or read that gave them that impression? I took this bit of news to my counselor (not the therapist yet). She said that people will often hold us to higher standards than we hold ourselves. They find disappointment in us when our flaws begin to show, when the things that make us imperfect humans are made visible. I nearly cried at what that person said. My heart sank and I've been wrestling with that thought in particular. My counselor said that it's easy to judge the person you really don't know. And that as I've chosen to make much of my life known here on the interwebz that these are things to be expected.

That the criticism, while not warranted, was good because it made me think about my life, what I'm projecting, and my purpose in life. She asked me – "Who do you believe you are meant to please?" Without thought I said God. She said let him be your validation then. You have already been approved. He has seen the entire span of my life and approved of it – every last bit of it. Now...my counselor, unlike my therapist, doesn't get that deep but this surprised me a great deal. I wanted to hug the woman but I never know how people will take things like that. Whether or not it crosses a line of professionalism...who knows? I hug my therapist without a thought about that though and I think she's probably in more of a position to tell me No. *shrugs*

Hugs to you, my dear wonderful woman!

I can remember a time in my life where people saw in me exactly what was happening in my life. They were rough times and then I truly felt removed from God. Like some bolt of lightning struck and caused a chasm to appear between us both. I was trying to live a life that was pleasing to others...not to me and definitely to God...or so I thought. I was mean to everyone because no matter how far I bent over it never seemed to be enough for those around me. I changed for people and it didn't work. When I was tired of trying and no longer dying to live...my thoughts grew dark and harsh. Depression has always been a constant with me and it became a rather dominant force in me.

The will to live was gone. I would ask God where he was and why he didn't want me anymore to receive no reply and not one inkling of an answer. Rock bottom wasn't too far away then...it was inevitable that I would hit it try as I might to stay afloat ...I was drowning in my existence. Just existing, living proved to be too hard to do. When I finally did hit rock bottom, I didn't know which end was up. I was out of my mind – clinically insane is what my therapist said. Schizophrenia had ravaged my mind and I was in very low spirits.

Every day for 3 years...I prayed to God to make it stop. To call me home so I wouldn't have to do it myself. To take me in my sleep, to have lightning strike me down for my failures...to cause me to go in the most horrific way possible so that I felt something before leaving this earth. I would appeal to the God of the Old Testament – the one that delivered swift justice to those in the depths of their sin by naming all of the sins that I committed. Not a confessional...I was seriously hoping to arouse his wrath.

Every day for 3 years...I wrote. I journaled and wrote a novel. I talked to God in between asking for death to come on swift wings. I asked for his approval with the things I was writing – sure that I was pissing him off and really didn't want to show God in an unpleasant light. I would pray that it was okay to use his words...because I thought he was talking to me.

Every day for 3 years...I cried. I'm not even sure how I was able to expend so many tears but I did. Every day and night, I cried from the things I was hearing in my head and from the things I was feeling. I was in a bad place. My suicide attempts were fruitless. I couldn't even kill myself properly – I fail at everything. But it was my mother who told me that – God was in my failed attempts. He was letting me know that it was not my time and that he still wanted me and wanted to use me. The thought of work seemed daunting, I'll admit it. From reading the scripture – his chosen ones had hard jobs to do and all of them with speaking to people in some manner. I declined but God didn't let up. He began to cause things to happen for me. Things that anyone else would say was produced by people – but if you saw the way these things and people were aligned...you'd know better.

Every day for 3 years...I pleaded with Satan to leave me alone because I felt as though I were under direct attack. Things in my life were going wrong...horribly wrong. And I felt an invisible weight on my shoulders that I could not shake. I had nightmares about the demon. A lot of nightmares. I had hallucinations of him being in my house which led to me wanting and needing to cleanse my house. I had asked my pastor at the time to come and bless the house...for whatever reason he never came. I think my ex-husband had something to do with that one. Not sure or maybe it was me. I do remember wanting our house to be cleaned well and me pitching a fit about it all. I don't know. Anyway, I did clean house but there was never a blessing over that house from my pastor. This made it worse as I was sure that the noises I heard were from demons scratching from within the walls. When in reality...it was squirrels having a go at the roof. But imagine being schizophrenic and not only hearing those noises but seeing things too...

Having gone through all of that...I still ask God what the purpose of all of that was? Was I like Job? A wager placed on my life to see how loyal and dedicated I'd be to God? Or was it just to pull me closer to him. That's what happened in the end. I grew closer. The chasm closed and I found myself in the arms of the Lord being sheltered and loved. A lot has happened and continues to happen but I remain hopeful and faithful to God. I don't understand it. I may never. But I see what's coming of it.

My heart suffers a great deal from self-doubt. I often wonder if I'm doing the right thing by sharing so much of what happens to me here. My objective has always been the same – I want to help people and shed a light on all the ugly things to get to the glow of the beauty in it all. I want to educate people who don't have a mental illness on what it's like but mainly...I just need an outlet. A place I can come to without feeling as if I have to bind my words and just share life as it happens. I'm human. Not perfect in any way shape or form. My life has plenty of evidence to that fact.

I don't hate it. I am very much in love with life at present and I hope that doesn't change. I do hope that I continue to though. I'm learning...at what seems like a slow pace that my flaws are loved. My inconsistencies are forgiven and my sins do not define me. I am every bit the woman God created and wanted. Still a work in progress...all this character will definitely make a great display lol. One can only hope.