I didn't realize we would be closed on Monday for the holiday. When you are in sales you don't always get those expected holiday. I is almost 100 today and I just came in from putting the last bag of mulch on the flower bed. I had to stop a few times to rest or cool off and the last bag I had to drag behind me to get it out there.
I pride myself on my ability to adapt to the heat. I can't really say I adapt well to anything else. I listened to T.D. Jakes while I was on a heat break. He was preaching at Lakewood this morning and had a pretty powerful message. I have to say that history is repeating itself. My Aunt Ruby use to make fun of my grandmother for watching TV evangelist and then in her own last days that is all she wanted to do. Now here I am doing the same thing not that it is my last days.
I have found that everything in life that is painful comes from resistance. When you resist what is then that means you want something else instead. No matter how hard you wish for something different you are sitting right in the middle of something you don't want. Whether that is a job or a relationship or a even a sickness you can't change it in the moment.
Today's message was very powerful. When you are in the dark it means there is an absence of light. Darkness isn't evil or powerful just a place where you just happen to be at the moment. All growth starts in the darkness and only when it emerges from the ground does it even need the light.
I have had long periods of time where I just wished I was someplace else. When I headed into the darkest of depression I wanted life itself to be over. I could not endure not one more minute of the nothingness I felt. I thought about that time when he was speaking this morning.
I can only say it was some sort of grace that saved me. Right now I can remember sitting on the porch when something turned inside of me and a voice said "you are doing this to yourself". I started thinking about that and wondering if that was true. I felt that I had been rejected so many times by the people that were suppose to love me that there must be something about me that made me unlovable.
This was my core belief and every thought I had about it proved me right. I am very logical person and looked at all the facts. I have the kind analytical brain that latched on to these facts and could only come to this one conclusion. It had to be my fault. A child raised in a fundamentalist home where you take responsibility for yourself and your actions this was how we thought. You must do better next time.
I never occurred to me that in life random things happen to everybody all the time. Even at birth you could be born just about anywhere to anybody. Anybody can get sick and die. I should have realized that when my own mother died. But my child brain decided that if I worked hard and was the best person I could be I could prevent bad things from happening to me.
Plenty of bad things happened to me from that point on but somehow I just thought I wasn't trying hard enough. This is an exhausting way to live trying to out smart unknown random stuff from happening and blaming myself when it did.
That day on the porch I just gave up and let go. I decided to not to blame myself and not even look for an answer to why I ended up where I did. I rested from the responsibility of my situation and I got better slowly. I even decided that if I was unlovable there was nothing I could do about it. I was in the darkness for a long time but eventually I got rid of the thoughts that were hurting me.
I am a happy person now and feel sad for that girl inside me that didn't know any better. I raised myself without a mother and there were things I didn't know. I am smart and used the spiritual knowledge of others to get where I needed to go. In the end I had to see it was my own thoughts about myself that hurt me more than being rejected by other people.
You can't always trust you own thoughts about any situation. For me I had see that it didn't matter whether my thoughts were true or not I had to just let them go and start loving myself.
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