Monday, October 14, 2019

FINALLY something new from me!

Today I FINALLY put together listings for the tarot bags I've been making for my shop on Etsy. You can click the Etsy button in the top right-hand corner to look at my shop, but here are a few pictures here. Tell me what you think!






Wednesday, August 14, 2019

A Thing to be Grasped

As an adult who grew up in a very Bible-y place, verses fly through my head in response to nearly every situation I come across. And, of course, these verses were originally taught along with their "accepted" interpretations, a la various, basically fundamental, Christian churches. I say this because although I grew up in the Church of Christ, as soon as I was old enough to dare I began studying in other variations of Christianity, such as Baptist, Catholic, and Assemblies of God. Most verses have the same "accepted" interpretations, except a few used to validate or denounce certain practices singular to one denomination versus others.

So the other day I was contemplating the outright GREED that has overcome our lives -- yes, the whole world, but especially here in the United States. As a City on a Hill that Cannot Be Hid, we are radiating GREED to the rest of the world. In the name, by and large, of Christianity. In contrast, we are lighting our lamps and then hiding them under bushels. Yes! We're the best place to live! We have more, promise more, ARE more! But...we don't want you. Especially if you are actually in need and might drain us of our resources. Please drain elsewhere. We don't have enough.

Well, we DO have enough for luxurious airplanes and expensive entourages for golf outings. Political campaigns. Huge parades and celebrations of ourselves. Yay! Aren't we amazing? Wouldn't you like to be us? Well you can't. You weren't born here. Or maybe your ancestors were but we drove them out and that's just too bad.

Then there's this little verse in Philippians. Always brought up to demonstrate just how much Jesus loved us. But it carries so much more weight when we look at ourselves, as Christ's representatives here on earth. Here in America.

Have this mind AMONG YOURSELVES, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who -- THOUGH HE WAS IN THE FORM OF GOD -- did not count EQUALITY WITH GOD a THING TO BE GRASPED, but emptied himself, taking the form of a SERVANT. ....Philippians 2:5-11, edited and emphasized by me.

What if this were applied to us? To each American? To our leaders? Who, though being in possession of wealth and power, did NOT count that as a thing to be GRASPED, but emptied ourselves, taking on the form of... Servants? Immigrants? Criminals? Hungry? Homeless?

While Christ was in the form of God and WAS God, we are NOT. We should count ourselves BLESSED, not ENTITLED. And figure out exactly what it is we are considering a thing to be grasped, so that we can empty ourselves of that and take on the form of servant. And serve those in NEED not those who can in return serve our needs. I'll scratch your back, you ... enjoy it. You feel appreciated. Your betterment is not only my reward, it is my JOB.

What is it YOU count as a thing to be grasped? What would it take to empty yourself of it? Are you brave enough?

Tuesday, January 22, 2019

It's been a year. The world has moved on but I am, in a lot of ways, still tied to the deaths of Adri and Brann. Adriana's family and friends hosted a 5k in her honor to bring awareness to domestic violence. One of the guest speakers was from a battered women's shelter here in San Antonio, and she said something that I felt like a punch in the chest. I don't remember it word for word, but it was something like, "when a person must live in fear of someone who claims to love them."

As I was there to honor Adriana, and show support to my orphaned cousin, I would never call any attention away from the purpose of the gathering. But it hurt so bad, knowing that Brann had grown up living in fear of someone who claimed to love him (his father, my grandfather). While Brann's extreme and final actions were.... extreme and final .... they did not come from nowhere. I remember hearing him scream as my grandfather beat him and his wife pleading with him to stop. His wife, my step-grandmother.

I've had to go back and censor [this very large part] of the story because saying the words out loud brought some hell down on my head. I can handle a LOT of hell, but I have literally exhausted my emotional strength with very little time for recouping. So to give myself a little of that, I redacted part of the story. Which in no way changes the truth under the black marker.

My aunt Murray shared with me a quote a long time ago. It was this:

What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life?
The world would split open.

So when the time came for me to honor my uncle Brann, I did so by telling a truth. And by God, the world indeed split open. Then, in the wake and fallout of the world-splitting, in this age of #metoo and telling our truths bravely, I actually acquiesced by removing the post, and then further by actually APOLOGIZING for saying out loud what was already visible through the rift. I had a very, very good reason for doing so. But at the same time I'm FUCKING PISSED at myself for letting ME down.