Sometimes you have to just suck it up… and this was one of those times. Midnight snacking in the kitchen I swore a shadow moved under the radiator. Nahh…I poo-pooed it away. To cast out all doubt the mysterious shadow was boldly sashaying across the front of my fireplace a day later. Yup, it was a &*^#% mouse. Those of you who follow UHB know the water bug incident. If not, go check that out. Continue reading
Not a week that goes by that I don’t remind my son to be kind to his sister and play with her. When he looks at her, he sees an annoying two-year-old girl who steals his toys and ruins all his fun. For him, she is simply too hard to love. While few of us can relate to the irritation of dealing with a two-year-old sister, many of us can relate to the experience of living with a difficult family member. Continue reading
There are some things that have started to happen with my friends and I which has made us consider the possibility that we are getting finer with time. Does any of these sound familiar? If so, you may also be uhm…adulting. Continue reading
I’ve only been a mom for four years—but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about my children’s future. I constantly wonder what the next decade, or even the next year, will hold for them. What profession will they pursue? Will they be able to sustain themselves financially? Will they make good decisions? Will they find the right spouse? Continue reading
There was very little conversation being had in church about Domestic Violence. We talked about dating, marriage, tithing, stewardship and spiritual gifts. Pause –if you read the pervious 2 sentences at a normal pace, that was about 9 seconds. As I was saying…There was a ministry for everything from the church van to the community concerns (Candle Night out) but no one was talking about the black eye the Sunday School teacher often had. (9seconds). We were told ‘you are fearfully and wonderfully made’ but our young men and women weren’t reaffirmed in their self esteem in our Sunday School or Youth Group to know what that means. (9 seconds) We sang Jesus loves me, but when it came to it – did we know how that love had different meanings in each home? (9 seconds). Domestic violence comes in many forms (physical, emotional, sexual, financial, elder abuse) and over 10 years ago a 501c3 (9 seconds) organization-Preciouslyfe was formed to boldly have a faith based conversation about it. (9 seconds) Preciouslyfe (Now My Tattered Brim) continues to work, speak, encourage and pray for change, education and awareness of abuse. (9 seconds)
Be aware and have the conversations. The first National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey, released on December 14, 2011, reveals the alarming magnitude of domestic violence, sexual assault, stalking and dating violence in America. In the time it took to read the first paragraph of this post- according the US Justice Department – about 7 people were victims of domestic violence. Do the math. 7 people a minute. 60 minutes. 420 victims an hour.
Among states, Pennsylvania tied for 15th place for women, and ranked 25th place for men, in the lifetime prevalence of rape, physical violence and/or stalking by an intimate partner. This is why we need your help.
Many people don’t know that October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month – even though 1 in 4 women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime and an average of 3 women die every day at the hands of a current or former intimate partner. My Tattered Brim (Preciouslyfe) is a 501c3 organization dedicated to supporting survivors of Domestic Violence by helping to answer the question ‘I’m out of my abusive environment-now what?’. We provide support, education, life skills training and assistance in the navigation of resources of other Domestic Violence agencies we partner with as survivors rebuild their lives. Continue reading
There was a time that I thought some things were absolutely unforgivable. There was an imaginary scale in my head that weighed the offense and eked out the level of forgiveness that it was worthy of. I justified my right to own the hatred that I felt for my abusive ex-boyfriend. He had taken enough so I was not willing to give him any more of me, including my forgiveness. My angry mind rationalized that forgiveness would send a message that his actions were OK, even when my reality mind knows that notion isn’t true.
What I have come to grips with is that forgiveness is not an endorsement nor is it a hug wrapped in rainbows, fluffy clouds and harp music. Forgiveness is not a warm fuzzy feeling that puts you in the mindset of running through a field of flowers, smiling with the sun beaming as if you were singing about the hills being alive in the Sound of Music. In spite of how it feels, forgiveness is a choice.
I have heard it said that forgiveness is setting someone free and freedom is not what I wanted for this person. The truth of the matter is that the real prisoner was me. I was holding myself captive. I stayed bound in my anger where I was insulated from being in any situation where I could be hurt in anyway. I’ve become hypersensitive, acutely aware and ready to protect my children and me from the slightest external infraction. When looking at life through the lens of this seething anger, you see threats everywhere. A person in a store line accidentally stepping on my daughters foot required quick action to protect her when it was just an accident.
For years I was full of hatred and rage for not only my abuser but also memories of my mothers. I vowed to break the cycle and never have my children, sisters or brothers, nieces or nephews be victims of abuse. Un-forgiveness held me prisoner. The person that I have wished a house to fall on kept on living his life, unaware and probably apathetic to the depth of my hurt, anger and bitterness. To truly be an example, I’ve learned that I need to follow the ultimate example. God himself asks us to forgive those who have wronged us. (Colossians 3:13) Nowhere did I read it was an easy thing to do. As I’ve committed to the hard work of forgiveness, releasing my abuser and the dark, ugly pit of anger has made room for the beautiful things like joy, peace, love and gratitude. While forgiveness isn’t always easy it is worth the effort as I reclaim my freedom Under my Tattered Brim.
There are days when you wake up and have to be like David and encourage yourself. Not
because you don’t have an awesome other half that listens to you whine, encourages and holds you up when you are feeling down and deflated. No matter how you try to shake it you see evidence of the irritation(s) everywhere you look. Each sign making the tear in the irk fabric larger and larger until its a deep, dark, empty hole. Continue reading
I work for an organization where some of my colleagues speak many languages. It is an enviable ability that has had me wish I really paid attention when Senior Fazinni was teaching my Spanish class, at least to recall more than a few phrases. The one that I still remember and used most – ¿puedo ir al baño so I could find a study hall to socialize in. I’m ashamed but confession is good for the soul. Hola NAHS clase de 89!! Continue reading
It was the coldest day of the year…maybe not according to the meteorologists but it sure felt like it. The wind’s icy grip snatched tears out of my eyes. My dried lips felt like sandpaper as they pressed together tightly in an Continue reading