It comes time that the build up is that I need to find relief. I have that "support group" that we hear people say we all need, and we do all need that sooner or later and from time to time. When I was a teenager I had a poster on my wall of a baby Seal that said, "Everybody needs somebody sometime", truer words were never spoken. Thing is, just who do I lean on that doesn't already bear a heavy load close by? Funny, my motto has changed somewhat over the 53 years of my life. It is now, do no harm as well as allow no harm, if possible.
I swore in as the Executor of mom's estate today, actually swore in an oath, one of which I would do no matter what. Me and Megan went to one of the two banks and gave copies where I could manage the estate's business and tomorrow we do the same at the other bank. I do not look forward to doing that. I spent some more time straightening mom's current mail and bills and receipts. Mom kept everything just not exactly in any kind of organization, but I think she knew just which stack something was in, much like my desk was and still is today. I never make it up there long before I have to stop. It feels like I am in mom's personal business, even though I know that is what she would want, still feels weird. I talk to her, sometimes even fuss at her, but always tell her that I miss her. Is she here on earth, I don't think so, but I think they can see us from Heaven. I do not think they can relate to anything negative, God does not allow that. Just as negative energy is an absence of positive, dark the absence of light, so then bad is the absence of good, and when God is, good is all there is.
I found letters from a "religious group" promising fame, money, health, happiness... if the person would just send in their prayer money. If there was a spin they seem to have it, different in each letter. I think Hell holds a special place for people like this. Funny, mom always wanted me to be a preacher, and those who have heard my mouth would find that funny. Some in the past that have crossed me might think that funny too. I read the scriptures solely from want and personal need, and solely to learn from. Some things I am a slow learner on. I use to wonder how mom could even think such a thing, until I read letters that prey upon the sick, old, weak, and greedy. She had tons of that stuff, the TV is full of those people, and these days it even infects many churches as well. A sweet lie is still a lie, just a little easier to swallow. I could not do that to people, partly out of respect and partly out of fear of God. Be that as it may though one can find a happy medium between too sweet and too sour. One cannot buy or talk their way to Heaven anymore than one can have the Hell scared or beat out of them.
I do what I must do on her behalf under prying eyes who look from across the street and judge. They mourn with their mouths in public, just as they worship God in public... yet in the secrets they keep secret. Maybe that is why mom picked me. I try and show as little as possible in public yet in the quiet stillness of the night, I am anything but. I give my brokenness and pain and sorrow to the One that it will not do harm each night in prayer. I step not confident, knowing that those who do often slip and fall in the overconfidence. I write these things here because not many people will read them or ever see them, yet writing has served the purpose of healing. Still, I hold back from what I would say. Something I am increasingly becoming worse at in person. I think that for far too long we have stroked each other and ourselves, maybe a little truth is past order. Maybe it is the pain I hide inside and maybe it is the want for a better world, either way, if I set and watch that stuff go one I am not better than the ones that do it. Maybe worse.
I swore in as the Executor of mom's estate today, actually swore in an oath, one of which I would do no matter what. Me and Megan went to one of the two banks and gave copies where I could manage the estate's business and tomorrow we do the same at the other bank. I do not look forward to doing that. I spent some more time straightening mom's current mail and bills and receipts. Mom kept everything just not exactly in any kind of organization, but I think she knew just which stack something was in, much like my desk was and still is today. I never make it up there long before I have to stop. It feels like I am in mom's personal business, even though I know that is what she would want, still feels weird. I talk to her, sometimes even fuss at her, but always tell her that I miss her. Is she here on earth, I don't think so, but I think they can see us from Heaven. I do not think they can relate to anything negative, God does not allow that. Just as negative energy is an absence of positive, dark the absence of light, so then bad is the absence of good, and when God is, good is all there is.
I found letters from a "religious group" promising fame, money, health, happiness... if the person would just send in their prayer money. If there was a spin they seem to have it, different in each letter. I think Hell holds a special place for people like this. Funny, mom always wanted me to be a preacher, and those who have heard my mouth would find that funny. Some in the past that have crossed me might think that funny too. I read the scriptures solely from want and personal need, and solely to learn from. Some things I am a slow learner on. I use to wonder how mom could even think such a thing, until I read letters that prey upon the sick, old, weak, and greedy. She had tons of that stuff, the TV is full of those people, and these days it even infects many churches as well. A sweet lie is still a lie, just a little easier to swallow. I could not do that to people, partly out of respect and partly out of fear of God. Be that as it may though one can find a happy medium between too sweet and too sour. One cannot buy or talk their way to Heaven anymore than one can have the Hell scared or beat out of them.
I do what I must do on her behalf under prying eyes who look from across the street and judge. They mourn with their mouths in public, just as they worship God in public... yet in the secrets they keep secret. Maybe that is why mom picked me. I try and show as little as possible in public yet in the quiet stillness of the night, I am anything but. I give my brokenness and pain and sorrow to the One that it will not do harm each night in prayer. I step not confident, knowing that those who do often slip and fall in the overconfidence. I write these things here because not many people will read them or ever see them, yet writing has served the purpose of healing. Still, I hold back from what I would say. Something I am increasingly becoming worse at in person. I think that for far too long we have stroked each other and ourselves, maybe a little truth is past order. Maybe it is the pain I hide inside and maybe it is the want for a better world, either way, if I set and watch that stuff go one I am not better than the ones that do it. Maybe worse.
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