So, I got the book. I took the quiz to see what kind of diet, (healthy lifestyle change) would be best for a person like me. I’d heard of the types in this book. From Earth Mama, to Savvy Chick, to Boss Lady, to Gypsy Girl to Nightingale- I sort of thought I’d be diagnosed as a Gypsy Girl. Nope. I was diagnosed as a “Boss Lady” and that’s why I get ulcer type symptoms. In addition, I’m a bit of a combination of Gypsy Girl and Boss Lady: so that makes me a “Savvy Chick”. Being the good wife I am, I asked my husband the 50 questions to see what type person he is and what type eating changes would improve his health. I omitted questions that involved cycles and things obviously only for women. Turns out he’s a Savvy Chick too. He has a different number, though. So, he needs to amp up his vitamin B, (as do I) but he needs to add yogurt to his life. Good thing he likes yogurt: I don’t care for it. I need to add more fiber.
at least not yet.
still in cold Ohio, against my wishes. I had been blowing up at the husband for so long, we sat down, talked, prayed together and sought counseling. We talked with a local Pastor. We had a lovely day. We had a nice weekend.
Being new to the healing of the relationship, I threw a Facebook post out there. It was vague. My husband’s family got upset and told me off in no uncertain terms: on Facebook.
Great. I’m working on retaining the love, we are treasuring each other, and I know how his family really feels about me.
Anyone in a Southern state want company?? I could come and visit till this Ohio winter is over with…. For real!Having tons of trouble with this lack of peace. I gave God the solid try. (complete with prayer and fasting) Now, I’m sending for Dr. Taz’s book: “Super Woman RX” to discover if I’m really just a gypsy girl…
(Some transparent disclosure)
We usually have people over and do a bunch of cooking and cleaning for holiday meals. Do you??
In order to accomplish this, I spend weeks worrying and stressing. I know, as a Christian I shouldn’t. My husband does heavy duty cleaning. Praise God. We have to do extra preparations because of the 8 cats. My husband has been focusing on remodeling our basement. He’s had his son here some and his 13 year old grandson here- interrupting my peaceful solitude and comfort. (I am set in my ways) I saw my husband procrastinating and trying to fit all details in: in the last 36 hours. He has also been working overtime at his paying job.
I knew my sleep would be interrupted the night prior to the “gathering”. So, I’d already be super tired. This happens repeatedly: I know the drill. If I had to do this-as we have done the last 12 years+ I’d like to have had folks here early and then I could change into my nightgown and be done trying to impress by 7 pm. The 4 o’clock gathering became 5 and some didn’t show up till 7. They ended up gone by 10:30 pm, by the way.
With my health, stress, feeling of being ignored, etc…. I went away the night prior to the big gathering. I spent the night at a lovely motel: alone. I had no husband who says he has “trouble understanding me”, no cats and messes, no dishes…… Smile! I didn’t want to come home, but couldn’t afford a second motel night: besides, it’s MY house, right?
I took my favorite cat, went to my room, shut the door and determined to not socialize. I do have that right, correct? Apparently not. People, all ages, kept trying to disturb and enter my room. What is wrong with people? I obviously wanted to be alone. My health wasn’t great. My emotions were a mess. My house wasn’t perfect and my husband hasn’t even worked on the remodel needs of my bedroom. Am I his priority?
Love and family–
God is love? He hasn’t answered my big ongoing prayer; in fact, my son broke my heart yet again, in the last 5 months. I also, miss my daughter and grand-daughters who are 1000 miles away. I don’t have a real “bond” with my husband’s family- or kids. I could be a million other places. I wish I were. God supplies all my Needs? Uh, well, yes.
Empowerment and peace?
Nope. I need a Godly faith boost. Being the new year is almost here, I’m hearing preachers speaking of renewal and “break through”. I am reminded of my youth when I heard people say things like: “I stayed at the altar till I got my breakthrough. The pastor had to keep the church open, because I was beseeching God for 4 hours.”
I plan to join Pastor Jentezen Franklin in a Breakthrough fast the days he has designated. I’m going to go to God sincerely and I won’t let go of the hem of Jesus’ garment till He answers. This may be a challenge for me. (in the flesh) Admittedly, God is laying the groundwork for this time I’ll have designated to, and for Him. I thank Him for that.
That is the question.
If you are like me, you’ll take over the counter medicines, drink herbal tea, push vitamins and supplements, and who knows what all before giving in to calling the doctor. Once you make the call, you’ve admitted you’ve tried all you can think of, to do, to get well. The doctor’s office may or may not be able to see you on this day you’ve made the call. They tell you an appointment time and you agree. Since you’re not feeling good, you now contemplate getting presentable and going to the doctor’s office.
In some countries, they don’t have the luxury of picking up a phone, calling a doctor, trusting the doctor will know what to do to make them feel better, showering with clean water, choosing one of many outfits in the closet, and getting into a car that runs well. Some people in America aren’t blessed with every one of those luxuries, either.
I thank God I am blessed.
So, I make my way to the doctor. I sign in and await my turn. I have faith the doctor will diagnose my symptoms and send me home with a prescription that will help me.
That’s what happened. The doctor decided I had an infection and sent me off to get antibiotics. If you’ve been lucky enough to have seen the movie: “Mrs. Doubtfire”, with Robin Williams in it, you will understand what I mean when I say: Help Is On The Way! (Yay) Robin Williams’ character shouted this in the movie. It was a great comedy. With help on the way, I know I will be on the mend. I let go of my burden of trying to self medicate. I gave this burden to someone else. The responsibility has been lifted from me.
We who are Christians, release the grip of our lives to Christ. We know God will “supply all our needs according to His riches in glory”. (see Phillipians 4: 19) We have to be able to relinquish control to the One Who has our best interest in mind. We talk to God, saying: “I give You my all. Take me. Use me. Guide me. I want Your perfect will. I trust You with my life, finances, decisions, marriage, children, future,….all are in Your capable hands. Help me as I strive to not lean on my own understanding. Help me acknowledge You in all my ways as You direct my path. Thank You, Father.”
God didn’t put us on the earth alone. He wants us to share, not just drown, in our prayer requests.Sometimes,
the mere sharing your need with someone else, gets the idea/pain off your shoulders and out of your head. 1 Thessalonians 5: 11 says: “Wherefore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another, even as also ye do”.
The monotony of the mundane that we live daily, is lightened and interrupted when someone reaches out one way or another, and asks you to pray for them. (For their sickness, relatives, finances, protection…) If you are like me, you are going along in your day, imagining the similar things ya do, daily, when, like a deer in the headlights: Someone wants me to do something for them as simple as pray. Halt!
I stop thinking about me, Me, ME and throw a sincere prayer up to God Almighty. I am lifted out of my world and my needs and wants. I’m sincerely concerned for this other person’s need and desire God to intervene: in Jesus’ name. I trust that He will and thank Him in advance.
It’s amazing how the other person was aided and I was uplifted out of myself. I feel good! I’m smiling. The sun is shining brighter and God is pleased. James 5: 16 says: “Confess your faults to one another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much”.
Every year we go through the same spiel. I say I don’t want to have to clean like a fiend to have guests to the “cattery” for one meal. We could easily go out, or make meal and take to the kids and grands separately.
I stress. I complain. I get all worked up. I’m overly tired. We argue. You say this happens “every year”. Hummm, you must like it. You know it’s coming annually. I don’t like it. I don’t like having the “animals” come over with their phone-in-their-part-parents. This takes toll on our relationship.
You are working hard on the house, overtime at work…..Great…..
She is pictured here with her great grandson. She was more than a friend to many. She was a prayer warrior. She played piano for military chapels for some 35 years. She loved to sing. She truly cared. She brought out the best in others. She listened. She shared. She was generous. She studied the Bible. She held to long distant relationships.
I’m reminded of Corinthians 13 where it says “Love is patient, kind, does not envy, does not boast, is not easily angered, always protects, trusts, hopes, perseveres. Love never fails.” This described her. She is sorely/painfully missed.
I understood she meant, in light of thinking of eternity, what does it really matter if I paint my kitchen mocha or red and gray? (For example)
Some would say, “don’t sweat the small stuff”. (nor some of the even bigger stuff) Be eternity minded. If you know your neighbor doesn’t believe in God, testify, walk the walk, speak, love, pray for….. Eternity matters. We are all going to spend it somewhere.
I know some people who completely stress about things to the point of tummy aches. Basically, being such control freaks/perfectionists, they are getting sick deciding things like “should I hang that picture there or put a floral arrangement there?” In light of eternity, how bout leaving the wall blank and calling/going to see someone you know who is hurting and lonely? Internet and cell phones have made things too easy to not comfort or communicate. My opinion: Suicide should be obsolete.
Pastor Joseph Prince has a new book out called “Living the Let Go Life”. He promotes less stressing, trusting God and seeking God and His kingdom first-then all these things (and more) shall be added to you.” (Matthew 6:33) Newsflash: God loves you and knows you need to eat, have clothes on your body and to pay your bills. He’s a loving Daddy. He says love your neighbor as yourself. Pick up the Bible, dust it off and read all of Mark 12.
As I’m recovering from my recent surgery, I realize I can only do so much. I can’t go out as much. I’m limited. I can stay home and read the Bible and watch a lot of Christian television, asking God to imprint on my heart what He wants me to know for my life. I look around and am thankful for my humble home. I’m thankful we have a cattery and all these cats just love us so unconditionally: even if we have cat hair everywhere. I’m thankful God blessed us with another place (home)that doesn’t have any animals and we can decorate it and have as a refuge/respite place. God knew our loving hearts and that we are so generous, we’d have our entire home as a zoo or shelter if we could. God knew and knows us. We know Him. He knew He’d be adding things to us, as we are responsible with a few things, He’d give more. (Luke 16: 10) “He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much: and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much.”
Quit trying to chase after your own tails…..(my verbage) Quit chasing the biggest, best, newest, prettiest and being overly concerned the house isn’t perfect. (or the kids aren’t perfect, the hair isn’t perfect, the appearance of outward possessions isn’t impressive enough…..) Look! If you have 4 plain walls, a roof over your head, some food, a place to gather with other believers similar to yourself (so you can encourage one another) and some clothes you are better off than many in the world. Grateful??? Live like it.
I know someone who has so much stuff, they are in a tizzy and are getting ulcers because they don’t know where to stuff all their stuff. Umm….ease your ulcer burden and think of your fellow man, lend him a helping hand- put a little love in your heart…. (old song by Jackie Deshannon)
Don’t rush out and purchase up your credit card because the blouse you had on got baby upchuck on it, and it won’t wash out. In light of eternity, wear it proudly as you have tried to wash it normally–nothing excess. That’s a memory you are wearing. That’s a forever gift from your grandbaby, or a baby in the nursery. The stories you tell of that stain can change someone else’s life, perhaps. They can be affected for eternity.
Try not to stress. Live the Let Go Life, letting God be in charge. “God, if You want me to live today, do this today, ….. You are going to see to it”…. “I trust You.” “I give my fibromialgia to You. I give my eating to You. I give my getting enough liquids to moisten all my joints and to not have muscle cramps, to You. I give my depression to You…..I don’t want it. I live in Divine health because of You. I thank You and trust You, God. You are my Father and You love me. I love You and put my all in Your hands. Use me for Your glory……..less of me, more of You……in Jesus’ name………”
At least. I’ll be posting my life, thoughts, scripture….
If I caught your attention, give me a quick comment. Thanks!
As I continue to search my purpose in life, I realize I’m not alone in this. I’ve heard suicide rates are soaring in China and other places. Where I live, there’s a huge run on drug abuse.
If I offer you a 20 dollar bill. You’d take it, right? What if I crumple it up? You would still take it. What if I throw it on the ground and get it really dirty? You would still probably take it. It’s 20 dollars, after all.. Jesus is the best “Gift” ever. He’s been with me through so much, I don’t know how I would have gotten this far without Him.He was crumpled, beaten, abused, and understands me.
Because of Him, I’m a part of a royal priesthood, though I haven’t found my great purpose for life. Can anyone relate? This fact is found in 1 Peter 2: 9 “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light.”
As I have been ill for over 10 days, I’ve really looked at my lack of going out to be with others. I have an inert need to do for others. Not doing so, makes my heart sick. We weren’t put on the earth to be lone rangers. We are also to “not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another– and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10: 25) Jesus is coming back soon. Be blessed.
I am not a camera hog like my siblings. You can see Milo very clearly, Button may be in back of us. As you glance at my eyes, you can tell there’s knowledge and understanding there: obviously.
I too, am part Tuxedo, part Tabby. All I know is, my mommy always tells me, daily, that I am “just so beautiful”. You know, after hearing that all the time, ya start believing it.
I can tend to be a modest, mother hen type. I don’t really speak all that often. My mommy even commented, recently, when I meowed loudly. She said she had forgotten how my meow sounded. I’m ok with that. Being part of the the trailer four (see Milo’s story) I know I have a very good life. I basically have no need to meow like a mere cat.
I know my job/assignment. I make the rounds touring and checking out whatever the siblings are into. If they are merely napping, which is most of the time, I’m good. I, then, check on Mom and Dad. I love on and nap on Mom. I love on and sleep with Dad. I try to keep Susie Q in line. Button tries to pull rank on me ocaisionally, but not often. Button and I compete for title of Mother Hen of the house sometimes. I think she’s funny. I let her have her way, at times, because I’m above reproach and acting out.
Don’t get me wrong. When Mom starts to love on me and maul me like she does AJ, I let her know, I’m not a baby. I have even growled at Mom from time to time.
I am a sleek, royal, beauty that deserves/commands respect. I take care of the house. I take care of my humans. I deserve respect.
Oh, Mom says I have to tell this. When there is a storm, rain, loud noises….I look to Mom with eyes the size of dinner plates. It’s such a rarity. I get super curious and look to Mom for guidance.
Yep, me and Mom. We are the Moms and I get to sleep in Mom’s room and lounge across the bed like royalty.
Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful….. (that used to be an actual human saying: was it on tv?)
I am also known as the pesky little brother.
Being a handsome tabby with a lot of white markings, Mommy says I remind her of a cat she had before. His name was Alley. (Yes, “Alley Cat”)
I have a cute pink nose. Just ask my mommy. I am adorable. I get cattitude with all my sisters, at times, and Mommy has to put me in my place. What am I to do? I got 5 sisters! Aggg.
I act like a pest, according to them. I have tamed my doing this, recently. I only do this stuff if I feel really compelled. Inevitably, one of my sisters will growl and let Mom know, and I get hollered at.
I came into the house as a baby, as did my sister: Emma. We weren’t quite 4 months old when we got our furever Mommy and Daddy. (ya know I mean forever) We roamed to woods, trailers, houses and tried to get food wherever humans were. We were two of many, Many. These caring men would sit on lounge chairs, outside their trailers, and just shake a bag of cat food. Having no real home to speak of, we knew to come running. These men had paper plates of food and about 30 of us would come running from wherever we were. They also had a big bowl of water. I sort of learned to share via having to share/get my nose in the bowl for water with many others.
I’ve been known to be a pest, not stupid.
I used to get into more trouble. I had big ears and had to grow into them. My daddy referred to me as “Yoda”. He would flatten my ears a bit and I’d make a “face”. (what’s a yoda?) I walk all over my dad and tour the house regularly.
I give equal time to Mom even though I know she’s gonna maul me. She loves on me, calls me her “Yiddle Boy” and head bumps me. She comments on my cute pink nose. I purr very loudly and love her bunches.
I have gained weight and am coming into being more mature, but will always be Mommy’s Yiddle Boy.
Bet you thought I was going to talk about humans and something deep…. Nope.
My cats….in lieu of doing an eventual book about my cats and their lives and dialogue….let me introduce Button and Emma. Emma is in the forefront and has very long hair. She is merely four years old. Button is one of the original “trailer kids” I got as a package deal of 4 kitties.
This was a photo Mommy caught of my showing little sister around. When Mommy brought Emma and her brother: AJ home, Emma and I looked at each other like we were looking in a mirror. (what’s a mirror?) We became fast friends and groom each other daily. I feel maternal about Emma.
I actually feel maternal about most of my siblings. I feel especially maternal and protective of my daddy. I walk the house with him, when he’s home. I walk as his body guard. I told Emma Dad is the best. He is!
I’ve been letting my heart open more to Mom, though. Emma is slow to do that. She just knows Mom always wants to comb, groom, flea bathe,…Emma doesn’t see Mom as fun. Mom bribes her with treats, though. I’m not a fan of treats and my love can’t be bought.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m overweight. I might weigh in at 13 pounds. Daddy says I’m just fine. Dad’s the best!
About me: I’ve been known to announce loudly, times for meals. I am the spokesperson. I have an internal clock and a loud voice. I project!
Oh. When Mommy tries to project, sing, play that blasted piano…..I run. I have super sensitive ears and don’t prefer Mommy’s voice. I love Daddy’s voice.
I sleep with Daddy. He gets home late. I try to “mother” him.
Emma is shy about opening up today. I’ll speak for her. Being her mirror image/sister, I can tell you she is a daddy’s girl too. She sleeps with Daddy. She stands up on her hind legs (almost like a human) and grabs daddy’s hand/arm. She has fluffy, furry hands that are comical to watch as they grab Dad. Emma is a Hemingway and has extra fingers. When I say it’s comical to watch all of that hand grabbing for Dad, it really is. She’s a riot. She also likes to spend most of her time out on the catio. (enclosed patio for cats) She only likes to share her time VERY selectively.
Little sisters….eh….what are ya gonna do?!?
“I am not”. “I am not a Suzie Q!” (whatever that is) You see, I have much more respect for myself than that.
I would do just about anything for treats. I like the blue box of Temptations treats, best. Many times, Mommy has me in her bedroom with her, we watch tv together, and she gives me treats. What a life!!
I prefer when Mommy lets me sleep with her. She puts me out of her room sometimes, at night. I then, have to go find a safe place away from my siblings, where they won’t torment me for being “Mommy’s Pet”. (teacher’s pet)
As cats, go, I’m confused about my actual age. I know I’m older than the youngest of the household: they are merely 4. I know I’m not as old as “Shadow”, who is 15. Ehh….oh well…..
I actually came from being a bit of a socialite. I was carted around to nursing homes where I’d purr big for any human who would pet me. Most humans found me irresistible. One day, the nice lady took me and a big “dog” creature to a home where there were old people and I wore a leash while being carried around. I went by my proper name then: Susan B. Anthony. I’ve always known I was special and destined for greatness. Then, it happened. The human carrying me, handed me off to another human who said I was cute. I was doing my purring act, big time. Everyone in the room talked about me. I purred louder.
The human who now held me, caught direct eye contact with me, and we knew it was fate. All my special “tabbiness” let loose. I stopped my acting. This human said: “Awww”… We fell for each other. This human came to the (Hu)Mane Society where I was staying, the next day. She did paper work and took me home with her.
I love my furever home.
I am one of the brothers. Don’t laugh, you know you want to.
I am Milo’s brother. I was one of the originals out from under a trailer. I am a handsome Tuxedo, but am only letting you see my white whiskers and paw, here. I have a small white bib, a bit larger white heart, and a big white area between my back legs. I have white on all 4 paws, too.
If you read Milo’s story, that’s some of my back story pre- the mom and dad we have now. (and love) You see, when the officials came to get us four from under the trailer, we didn’t know they were going to take us to a place where we could get new parents. We were nervous and scared. I am a strong protector type, I really am, but when I saw them grabbing my siblings, I freaked out. Those humans didn’t seem very nice. They seemed in a hurry, too. Imagine that. They were there to “help us” but were in a hurry, as if they couldn’t be bothered with our feelings. My mommy is all about feelings and she asks us daily about how we feel. We love her.
These grabbing humans scared me so bad, I rebelled. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have. They got all mean with me and cut off a portion of my left ear. They labeled me feral. (what’s feral?) When my mommy talks to me, she tells me the story, in detail. She explains thoroughly to me. I love that about mommy. She is my favorite. She seems to be alone a lot, so I lay my long 4 foot long body across her. I weigh 12 pounds and love to eat and be spoiled.
I like things quiet and peaceful. I run when I hear loud noises, since I was once traumatized. When I hear loud thunder or other noises, I get what mommy calls a “crazy” look on my face. See, if truth be told, I can make a court jester face. Yes, I’m smart enough to know what that is. When my human parents mention this, I play up the act. They say I can be quite the performer.
Daddy says I can be quite the “lug of a love”. I love to love. Love is the best. I adore being with my siblings from under the trailer. I don’t ever want to think of how my life would be without any of them. We are a package deal.
Oh! There are times mommy goes to the mailbox and Milo stays by the front door. He acts like he’s going to go outside the house. “Ha! Mom, that’s just an act. We know from whence we came and would never leave our temperature controlled, 3 meals a day, comfy, loving home.”
Life is good.
I am called “Shadow”. Shadow Marie, actually, thank you.
I am the oldest of the feline family here. I am the “Queen” of the household and my siblings respect me.
I got my middle name from 2 humans. My mommy had a grandma (what’s a grandma?) whose name was Marie. She was her favorite grandma. They played that noisy piano together. The other human? That’s different story. You see, my mommy’s daughter (what’s a daughter?) was going to have a baby. Time went by and mommy thought her daughter should practice caring for another living thing. “No, she didn’t refer to me as a thing”.
Well, time went by and “daughter” had the baby. Her name is Emma Marie. I guess my mommy planned for daughter and baby Emma to take me to live with them. That didn’t happen. I’m probably better off. I know my mommy spoils me and puts up with my shenanigans.
I tell you I don’t know what “old” means. I lie on my favorite love seat and forget to go downstairs to litter boxes. I make stinky messes. My mommy reasons everything I do away. She tells Daddy: “Shadow’s just old.” I was Mommy’s first feline baby, out of the clan we have now. Mommy and I have a special bond. I barely tolerate anyone else in the whole world. Oh! I do tend to care for that other gal who was supposed to be my human Mommy. I do care for that brother of the gal who was supposed to be my human Mommy, too. They now call him my “uncle Brad”.
My human dad is tolerable when he speaks directly to me and feeds me. I let him share the house. Believe it or not, I try not to pee on his possessions, unless my siblings are goading me. Yes, I tend to be vengeful.
Before Mommy married Daddy, I used to take turns going outside and coming inside. I ruled the Florida neighborhood where we lived. One day, I came inside and had a painful thing on my arm. Mommy said someone had gotten my arm with a bee bee gun. (whatever that is) I have a naked scar to this day. My mommy took care of me, loved on me, spoke gently, cuddled me (yuck) and put some Neosporin (super yucky stuff) on me. That stuff tasted awful when I bathed myself, but, I felt better the next day. I knew, from then on, my mommy would always be important part of my life and we would love each other forever. (what’s forever?)
Different times mommy moved to different homes with me, and I had to adjust to being in a different place. I usually adjust easily, but, I recall one night mommy and daddy went to bed and I was in new surroundings alone with lights out. I called out loud and L-O-N-G : “Mommmmmmm”. I didn’t say meow, I knew this was serious and I had to speak human speak. I was disoriented. My mommy came to my rescue and loved on me abundantly stating I called out the human word: Mom.
Mommy never lets me live this down. She brings it up often. Daddy even refers to my calling out “Mom”. That’s what I’m known for…..oh well, I could have a worse legacy…..