Made by You Monday -- Tangelo Tart

So lately I've kind of been on a cooking/baking kick. I'm really trying to use fresh fruits and vegetables, and not let things go to waste.
The other day I looked in my fruit basket and saw that I had quite a few tangelos that were starting look a little rough. I did a little searching and found this recipe using honeybell oranges, so I figured I could substitute the tangelos. I was cleverly tooling along, gathering my supplies, and getting quite excited about the recipe when I realized I had no sweetened condensed milk! 
So how does one make sweetened condensed milk? Turns out it's really easy. Click here for that recipe.
Anyway, here's my take on the pie which was quite a hit at my house. BTW, I didn't do the meringue because I don't like meringue. I know, shoot me now! Anyway, enjoy.

4 egg yolks
1 making of sweetened condensed milk
4 ounces freshly squeezed tangelos
1 teaspoon vanilla
1(9-inch) pre-baked pie shell or 4 (3-inch) pie shells
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.
Whip the egg yolks until thick. Add the condensed milk and slowly add the juice and vanilla, and mix well until blended. Pour the mixture into the pre-baked shell and bake for 8 to 10 minutes. Once the pie is ready let cool and set aside in refrigerator.
Serve with whipped cream.

link up at Made by You Monday

April Joy Dare #4

"Enter the password: 'Thank you!" . . . Thank Him. Worship Him!

--Psalm 100:4

April 23rd -- 3 gifts reflecting

1. the sun off the windshield as I drive 

my husband to a business meeting

2. the love of God as I enjoy a day on my own

3. the joy of healing by helping others

April 24th -- 3 gifts fragile

1. a new cobalt blue measuring cup

2. peace 

3. health

April 25th -- a gift of cloth, steel, wood

1. fresh towels

2. my car to transport my son to the doctor

3. a birch crochet hook

April 26th -- 3 gifts moving

1. strong breezes this morning

2. my dogs running around

3. my hands crocheting

April 27th -- 3 gifts "ugly beautiful"

1. the mess in my bonus room from cleaning closets

2. a diagnosis of secondary strep for my son

(better than mono!)

3. headaches from pollen

April 28th -- 3 gifts orange

1. fresh pressed juice at the farmers' market

2. juiced tangelos

3. carrots chopped for dinner

April 29th -- 3 gifts in dirt

1. amaryllis bulbs transplanted outside

2. time spent with my children cleaning out closets

3. local strawberries eaten straight from the colander

April 30th -- a gift given, made, sacrificed

1. prayers for others

2. a new blanket for a baby not expected to live

3. my favorite spot on the sofa for my daughter

Share at:

a holy experience, one thousand gifts, Facebook, #joydare, #onethousandgifts

5 minute friday -- community

community is difficult for me. 

unless a single person can be a community.

i have trust issues.

i have self esteem issues.

i have acceptance issues.

for a long time, i thought i was the only one with all of these issues,

so i stayed quietly to myself, not talking about me or sharing at all.

then something changed.

i started to write.

i shared my writing with a few.

they didn't laugh or point fingers.

they didn't denigrate or humiliate me.

i wondered if more people would be so accepting.

i tried blogging.

people came.

they read.

they commented.

they were nice.

they didn't criticize.

they didn't laugh at my thoughts.

they believed what i wrote.

i began to believe it might be true.

that i wasn't the only one.

that i wasn't alone or crazy or strange.

that i might have something worth saying.

community is easier through the computer

-- and now I'm thinking community could be even BeTTeR with skin on it.

link up at 5 minute friday

Red Writing Hood -- Core

Last night my son and I cut up a fresh pineapple – the old fashioned way – with a sharp knife. As we slice the top off, we debated which method to use for removing the core. He wanted to use the knife to work around it, and then slice the pineapple into rings. I suggested just cutting the pineapple in half and then removing the core in sections.

This process got me thinking about life. About healing and recovery from trauma – specifically abuse.

There are a lot of similarities in preparing a pineapple and recovering from abuse.

First you have cut off the top – all that non-essential, frou-frou stuff, so you can get to the real stuff. Then you have to slice off that rough exterior – the protective layer.

Now you’re getting to the good stuff. You can see the fruit, and the juice is starting to ooze out, but there is still the hard core in the center, and it will inhibit the flavor of the pineapple if you try to eat it without removing the core. 

Pretty much like recovery. Get rid of the façade and the protective shell, and you can work with what’s real and good and sweet. Life is a lot better, but if you don’t get to the core of the problem, you'll always be inhibited by the abuse.

I’m still working on getting the core out of my life, but I’m learning to enjoy what’s real and good and sweet at the same time.

Pineapple anyone?

link up at Red Writing Hood

{this moment}

for more moments visit 
SouleMama

Thankful Thursday #17

This morning I am reminded of a quote from the movie Chocolat.

Do I want to speak of the miracle... 

of our Lord's divine transformation? 

Not really, no. 

I don't want to talk about His divinity. 

I'd rather talk about His humanity. 

Because that's how I'm feeling this morning. I want to have something remarkable to share . . . something that speaks of the wonder and awe of God and His relationship with us. But I just don't have it this morning.

What I do have are the recurring questions about relationships and what God's will is regarding one in particular.

I have broken off communication with some family members. Since doing that, I have felt more peace in many ways, but I find myself questioning whether or not my peace/happiness is a fair trade-off for whatever pain/anger they may be feeling. 

So once more today, I find myself grateful for the lessons I have learned about the compassion and humanity of our Father. He understands my feelings, of that I am sure. I am reminded that He is my Father to whom I may bring every problem, struggle, and joy. He never tires of listening to me, and His deepest desire is what is best for me. 

Questions may linger. Adjustments may need to be made. People are changelings, but God is constant. And I am so grateful for that today.

link up at Grace Alone

imperfect prose on thursdays -- telling the truth

I've been thinking about truth a lot lately. Actually, I've been thinking about truth for years. John 8:32 says, "The truth will set you free." I want truth, but fear it at the same time. Perhaps it is not the truth that I fear, but rather the reaction of others to the truth. 


I consider myself a "pathologically" honest person. I tend to give more information than is needed, to validate and prove the veracity of my comments. This is the result of being repeatedly told by abusers that no one would believe me. From the time that I was four years old, I was constantly told by several people that I was a liar, and if I told my parents about the awful things these people were doing to me, that my parents would abandon me. I believed the abusers. Why wouldn't I?


I was raised in an environment that taught truth was the ultimate determination of value and character. I felt that I was a liar because of all the things I hid and kept to myself. I was unable to "tell the truth" because I feared for my life as threats had been made -- if someone tells you they will shoot you or drown you, of course you believe them when they tell you your parents won't believe anything you have to say. 


When I first began to "tell", my therapist quoted John 8:32 to me. I knew it had to be right because it was Biblical, but I couldn't "feel" it. I wanted to be believed so badly! I remember telling my therapist the first time about any of the abuse. I talked with my eyes closed, head lowered, shoulders hunched. There were lengthy pauses. It took everything in my being to force the words out of my body. I could only speak in third person -- "J held the girl down" "the little girl was terrified". After I had recounted the episode to him, I peeked through half closed eyes, and asked, "Do you believe me?" He said he did. The relief was palpable. I had told and the world had not ended! I asked, "Why do you believe me?" He asked me why he wouldn't believe me. I couldn't answer, but in my heart I knew that if he undertood how terrible I was he wouldn't be asking that question. 


It's taken a lot of time and therapy to get to this point of telling. Most of the time it feels good. I'm not out for pity or sympathy. I just want to feel like an honest person. I want to be set free.


link up at imperfect prose

diary of 5

I am seeing... the wind blowing through my cherry tree

I am hearing... my dogs begging for breakfast

I am smelling... the lily that has opened in my bouquet

I tasted...an egg bagel with butter

I am feeling... a little overwhelmed

Wordless Wednesday -- Bright, Ripply Magic

for more images go to Wordless Wednesday

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . April 24, 2012

Outside my window . . . is a different city. Dh and I traveled east for a business trip yesterday. We're heading home this morning.


I am thinking . . . about the soothing nature of a hotel room. There is no clutter.


I am thankful . . . for time to spend with my dh. I'm sorry it's hard for him to drive long distances on his own, but I'm glad I can help him out.


In the kitchen . . . dd was baking chicken and steaming asparagus for dinner last night. Here's hoping it went well.

I am wearing . . . jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt as I get ready for the drive home.

I am creating . . . a new baby afghan, using this pattern -- http://www.churchmouseyarns.com/products/vintage-crocheted-blanket. It is a 10 color pattern, and I am just loving working on it.

I am going . . . enjoy the drive home. Three hours of talking with dh and no interruptions.

I am wondering . . . how to keep the vacation mentality when I'm at home. You know that relaxed feeling you get? But then again, maybe that's why it's called vacation.

I am reading . . . The Secret Life of a Fool by Andrew Palau. (I won this book from another blog I read, and I can't remember which one it is!)

I am hoping . . . to plan some designs for my front flower bed (a term I'm using very loosely here!)


I am looking forward to . . . getting home and back to organizing and cleaning -- I know weird, right?

I am hearing . . . a silly old sitcom, Boy Meets World

Around the house . . . dd professed to be doing housework while I was out of town. Time will tell.


I am pondering . . . the speaker we had at worship on Sunday. Ian Morgan Cron's book Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me is the next one on my reading list. (listen to the message here)

One of my favorite things . . . my morning routine: tea, computer time, reading the blogs I like, and checking in on Facebook. It' like a connect with my friends/the world while sipping my tea, and then I go about the rest of my day.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . therapy, Bible study, a day with my bestie, and I'm not sure what the weekend holds.


Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

a plethora of baby blankets!

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

Made by You Monday -- Baby Blanket #3

Another week, another blanket completed. This one is for a sweet baby girl who is due any time, I think. A friend of mine commissioned me to make 2 for two of her friends who are expecting.

Made out of Premier Yarns Serenity Chunky Sprinkles (Peekaboo) it measures roughly 30" x 26". I used a K10.5/6.50 mm hook and did a pattern based on April Draven's Sweet September shawl. 

This is one of my favorite yarn/pattern combinations to use. Since the yarn is so fluffy and soft, and has all those colors going on, I don't think the blanket needs any additional fringe or border.

link up at Made by You Monday

April Joy Dare #3

"Enter the password: 'Thank you!" . . . Thank Him. Worship Him!

--Psalm 100:4

April 16th -- 3 hard eucharisteos

1. confidences from my daughter

2. my parents

3. expectations

April 17th -- 3 gifts woven together

1. friendships over the past 35 years

2. a new friendship woven by a crocheted gift

3. works, faith, and grace

April 18th -- 3 gifts inherited

1. cooking skills

2. love of crocheting

3. my iron skillet

April 19th -- 3 gifts square

1. a piece of chocolate cake

2. a casserole shared with neighbors

3. a completed baby blanket

April 20th -- a gift stacked, stashed, stilled

1. new vintage table linens from a friend

2. new yarn to add to my stash

3. quiet time crocheting

April 21st -- 3 gifts found in Christ

1. strength

2. comfort

3. grace

April 22nd -- 3 gifts close

1. my husband

2. my Savior

3. words of validation and praise

Share at:

a holy experience, one thousand gifts, Facebook, #joydare, #onethousandgifts

Five Minute Friday: Together

We are on a ferry
This is the momma I wanted to be. This is the momma I wasn't
Everyone is happy. Everyone looks cute
What you can't see behind the ferry railing, is the abject panic I felt most of the time
The terror that I would fail; do something wrong; let these little people down; let that husband of mine down 
And yet, I look at that picture, and maybe just, maybe it wasn't all as bad as I think it was
We were a family of 4 on a vacation
Maybe we look like we're having fun, because we were
Maybe everyone is assailed by those fears, at least sometimes
What I know is this:
I did fail
I did things wrong
I let those little people down
I let my husband down
BUT. . . 
We are still a family of four
We still go on vacation
We still have fun
And sometimes, we are still afraid
Because bad things happen and leave us struggling to understand, and questioning where to go next
And as long as we keep moving forward
I can be the momma I want to be.


link up at Five Minute Friday

{this moment}

for more moments visit SouleMama

Red Writing Hood -- Makeover

I’d like to lose some weight. Not just a pound or two, but serious, double digit numbers. But then again, I’d like to get rid of the grey in my hair. Permanently. Not just by coloring it every 4-6 weeks. I’d like to be an inch or two taller – just enough to reach things in the kitchen without the step ladder or calling for my son. I’d like to know how to put outfits together that make me look younger, thinner, and taller. 

The truth is what I’d really like is an attitude, self-esteem makeover. I’d like to find a way to consistently feel comfortable in my own skin whether or not I’ve got weight to lose or grey hairs to hide (or embrace?) or I'm not tall enough. I’ve found out over the past 50 years that I can lose weight (albeit, it’s tough), exercise, color my hair, buy new clothes, and even put on heels, and yet none of it really matters if I can’t embrace who I truly am.

I grew up a chameleon. I took on whatever persona was required of me at any given moment. Abuse will do that to you. It’s an act of self preservation. Try to figure out what it is the abuser wants and be that person, and maybe, just maybe he won’t hit me, yell at me, humiliate me, or sexually assault me. That’s a lot riding on a momentary choice/decision. Not to mention the mind reading aspect.

I saw this quote the other day:

Life isn’t about finding yourself; it’s about discovering who God created you to be.

I don’t disagree with this, but at the same time I can’t help but remember the confusion I felt all those years ago. I really believed I was being who God wanted me to be, the problem was my picture of God and His wants was so skewed from being abused by “good Christian people” that I was in a state of constant disorientation, anxiety, and denial.

The makeover I’m looking for goes more like this: be who I am – who God created me to be. Recognize that health -- physical, emotional, and spiritual -- is what really matters. Take care of me as well as I would take care of my children and husband. And trust that those people in my life now don’t want anything from me but that.

Sure the exterior impacts the interior. I want people to think I look nice. And sure a good hair day can make everything else better, but to be dependent on the exterior for how I feel about my value as a person? Well that just can't end well, because what happens when the hairdresser has a bad day and ruins my hair? Am I going to hate myself for the next 4-6 weeks? No. I’m going to choose to value myself for what I believe, say, and do. 

I’d just like to be cute while doing it.


link up at Red Writing Hood

Thankful Thursday #16

I had the opportunity to do something last night that I don't do as often as I'd like. I fixed dinner for a couple who have a new baby. They don't go to church with us. They live across the street from us. When I took a gift to them earlier in the week, I asked if it would help if I brought dinner for them one night. They didn't hesitate even a moment before saying yes. I liked that a lot. I offered to do something and they were happy to let me. 


Often in my church community it seems that offers of help fall into two categories: those that are expected, and so not as deeply appreciated, and those that are waved off, because people don't like to admit they need help. I'm not sure how to avoid either one of these scenarios, but I do know that I really enjoyed preparing the meal last night, knowing that I was genuinely helping a young couple, at a time I clearly remember as being difficult. I also know that they were really happy to see me walk across the street with that vegetarian lasagna (no mushrooms, please!). And I knew they were vegetarians because I asked. And she told me instead of saying anything was fine. She even told me that her husband hated mushrooms. The whole thing was just lovely, open, and honest without any pretense.


I don't know if these neighbors attend worship services anywhere. I do know they gave me a lovely opportunity to help someone else, and a lovely reminder of how to accept help from others.


Blessings and peace.


link up at Grace Alone

imperfect prose on thursdays

The speaker was talking about his experiences during hurricane Andrew in 1992. I was in a Sunday school class on faith. He said, “I don’t know if any of you have ever been in a situation where you thought your life was in danger . . .” I have no idea what else he said. What I do remember is the windowless room the class was meeting in, and realizing I had to get out of there quickly. 

The random triggers of flashbacks.

As he posed the question, my conscious mind was answering “No” to the question, but my unconscious was pulling the lid off a box I’d sealed years ago. My breathing began to increase and the walls began to close in on me. I carefully laid my Bible aside and quietly got up and slipped out of the room. As soon as I got to the hallway, the pictures in my mind turned into video and it all came back with frightening intensity. The fear was so palpable that I began to sweat from it. The stench on my body clearly reminded me of the terror from the barn all those years ago.

I was stuck, caught between two time periods with no one and nothing to tether me to the present. I pressed my body into the wall, crossing my arms across and around my body to keep from splintering into tiny pieces.

What do you do when you’re falling apart and you are completely alone? I couldn’t move from that spot. I couldn’t speak or cry out for help. What would become of me?

A familiar face appeared in my field of vision. A friend. He asked if I was all right. I shook my head still unable to speak. He patiently asked what he could do. I stuttered for him to get my husband, directing him to Alan’s location in the building. I’m not sure what happened after that. I remember trying to make my body dissolve into the wall – wanting to fade out of existence.

Then Alan was there – holding me, assuring me we’d get through it, and guiding me out of the hallway as the crush of people began dismissing from classes. He led me to a quiet area, waving concerned people away, protecting me from stares and questions.

He settled me in a chair and began to murmur to me and chafe my hands, waiting for me to return to the present – to this period in time. I opened my eyes carefully and glanced at Alan. I had to speak the pictures from my mind, but speaking them aloud would validate the happening. There was no way to put the lid back on the box now.

Slowly and painfully I began to speak truth – the realization that I had faced death and survived, but had sealed it into that box for my own sanity. If the box was opened now, it was only because I was capable of dealing with the horrors stored inside.

link up at imperfect prose

(this post was originally posted at Write on Edge)

diary of 5

I am seeing... water droplets suspended from my swing

I am hearing... the hum of a quiet house

I am smelling... fermenting flour & water for sourdough starter

I tasted... French breakfast tea

I am feeling... a little headachey

Wordless Wednesday -- A Corner of My World

for more images go to Wordless Wednesday

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . April 17, 2012

Outside my window . . . it is cloudy, with patches of blue coming through. They say we may get more rain.


I am thinking . . . about one of my dogs. Etta is nearly 13 years old, and has been sick. She is half beagle and half dachshund. The vet says it's just an infection, but she's still not eating well. I am worried.


I am thankful . . . for a good day yesterday. Exercise and kinder thoughts toward myself.


In the kitchen . . . last night was tilapia, carrots and green beans. The other night I made a polenta based turkey lasagna. It was quite tasty and I hope to be posting the recipe soon.

I am wearing . . . my summer weight robe, although I'll be changing into yoga clothes soon.

I am creating . . . another baby blanket. This is number 3 in a series of 7. One of the babies was born last week and his parents walked across the street last night with him wrapped in the blanket. What fun!

I am going . . . yoga and then the grocery to pick up just a few things.

I am wondering . . . about cake. My son brought home a bakery cake from his girlfriends Sunday night. I am apparently addicted to bakery cake. I ate too much of it yesterday, so I moved the box to his room to deter myself, but I wandered in there last night a fork in my hand. I need an intervention!

I am reading . . . still working on Mrs. Tuesday's Departure. I'm just not feeling the reading bug right now.

I am hoping . . . for my daughter's interview to go well this morning. She is looking for a intern position for her fall practicum.


I am looking forward to . . . another trip with my husband next week. Now that the kids are grown, it's a nice diversion to drive with him to the eastern part of the state. I get a day to myself and we get some time to just chat -- uninterrupted.

I am hearing . . . birds, my dogs wandering around, and in the distance a siren.

Around the house . . . I am looking for new cushions for the outdoor swing. I want something durable, inexpensive, and fun. I don't really ask that much : )


I am pondering . . . money. We are blessed that dh is well paid for his efforts, but he and I have always had trouble seeing eye to eye on non-essential expenditure, i.e., swing cushions. Not a huge dilemma, but one I would have thought we'd have worked out after 26 years of marriage.

One of my favorite things . . . is completing a crochet project and watching the receiver unwrap it. Handmade gifts mean so much to all of us.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . yoga today, therapy tomorrow, Bible study on Thursday, and a fun/work day with my bestie on Friday.


Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

way back when!

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

Made by You Monday -- Baby Blanket #2

Another week, another blanket completed. This one is for baby Felix who was adopted a couple of weeks ago.

Made out of Lion Brand Tweed Stripes in Prism (1 and 1/2 skeins), it measures roughly 30" x 22". I used a K10.5/6.50 mm hook and did a pattern based on April Draven's Sweet September shawl. I used this pattern at Attic 24 for the border. 

I'm really please with it. My inspiration came from Churchmouse Yarns & Teas. I'm hoping to get this pattern soon and give it a try.

link up at Made by You Monday

April Joy Dare #2

"Enter the password: 'Thank you!" . . . Thank Him. Worship Him!

--Psalm 100:4

April 9th -- a gift hiding, held, heard

1. a desire to serve
2. yarn becoming baby blankets
3. the wind chimes' peaceful tolling

April 10th -- 3 gifts opened up

1. more irises in bloom

2. a fresh baked apple pie

3. new yarn

April 11th -- 3 gifts budding/blooming

1. a better mood

2. realizations of strength
3. desire

April 12th -- 3 gifts worn

1. a scarf from my daughter

2. my hedgehog necklace

3. a royal blue ribbon for 

Sexual Assault Awareness Month

April 13th -- 3 gifts bright

1. my friends' smiles

2. sunshine all day long

3. fireworks at the ball game

April 14th -- 3 gifts found looking up

1. a cardinal in my cherry tree

2. clearing blue sky

3. tree branches waving in the afternoon breeze

April 15th -- a gift in a bag, in a box, in a book

1. a baby blanket given to my neighbor
2. organic granola
3. "If a man had no more to do
with God than to be thankful,
that would suffice"
Meister Eckhart

Share at:

a holy experience, one thousand gifts, Facebook, #joydare, #onethousandgifts

Whataya Want from Me

I'm not usually a big Pink fan, but this song has been running through my head all week. It speaks to me about the my need for others to understand and give me space as I work on healing. Listen if you like or just read the lyrics.


Either way, have a great weekend.

Pink - Whataya Want From Me Lyrics

Hey, slow it down whataya want from me
Whataya want from me
Yeah I'm afraid whataya want from me
Whataya want from me

There might have been a time
When I would give myself away
Oooh once upon a time I didn't give a damn
But now, here we are so whataya want from me
Whataya want from me

Just don't give up I'm workin it out
Please don't give in, I won't let you down
It messed me up, need a second to breathe
Just keep coming around
Hey, whataya want from me
Whataya want from me
Whataya want from me

Yeah, it's plain to see (plain to see)
that baby you're beautiful
And there's nothing wrong with you
(nothing wrong with you)
It's me, I'm a freak (yeah)
but thanks for lovin' me
Cause you're doing it perfectly
(it perfectly)

There might have been a time
When I would let you slip away
I wouldn't even try
But I think you could save my life

Just don't give up I'm workin' it out
Please don't give in, I won't let you down
It messed me up, need a second to breathe
Just keep comin around
Hey, whataya want from me (Whataya want from me)
Whataya want from me (Whataya want from me)

Just don't give up on me
(uuuuuuh) I won't let you down
No, I won't let you down

(So hey) just don't give up
I'm workin it out
Please don't give in,
I won't let you down
It messed me up (It messed me up)
Need a second to breathe
Just keep coming around
Hey, whataya want from me

Just don't give up I'm workin' it out
Please don't give in, i won't let you down
It messed me up, need a second to breathe
Just keep coming around
Hey, whataya want from me (whataya want from me)
whataya want from me (whataya want from me)
whataya want from me

{this moment}

for more moments visit SouleMama

Blue Ribbon

every april I pull out my blue ribbon and pin it on my shirt. 
the first time I did it, I worried about what people would think/say.
I worried they would ask what it meant.
I worried they wouldn't ask what it meant.
I worried about what I would say.
I worried about what I wouldn't say.
each year that I have worn the blue ribbon it has become a little easier to set aside the worrying -- to expect nothing -- to be happy with a good conversation -- to set aside the discomfort of others.
it hasn't gotten any easier to have them look away though.
yesterday as I was having blood drawn at the doctor's office, the technician said, "what's your pin for?"
"april is child abuse awareness month. I am a survivor."
"oh", startled, she looked away, and I felt it again. the guilt and shame. 
what did she think of me now?
should I have kept my mouth shut?
not worn my blue ribbon?
there was no more conversation and little eye contact. she drew my blood, while I dealt with the pain of the needle in my arm and the accusation in her looking away. I was damaged goods all over again. I was at fault. I was less than.
I read a post this week about seeing people.
all I want is to be seen for who I am. a grown woman who is still 5 years old inside, wishing someone would intercede for me. wishing I didn't feel guilty and ashamed for others' actions.
but every april I pull out my blue ribbon and pin it on my shirt.

Thankful Thursday #15

After a week of depression, sadness, anxiety, and generally bad feelings, yesterday was a turn around.


One of my favorite bloggers, Inner Pickle, commented about me on her blog and even posted a link! I was so excited when I realized that I was the "Melanie" to whom she was referring. What a neat feeling to be read by someone I love to read.


Wednesday is counseling day, and we worked some more on a very difficult episode of abuse. I came away from the session with some good realizations: I did fight back and I wasn't weak, I just did what I had to do and I used the best judgment I had at that moment. We also spent some time talking about the benefit of this blog. It has helped me so much to have a forum from which to share on a regular basis.


Finally, as I was preparing dinner, I jumped online again to see if I had any new comments, and I did. From another site that I've been silently stalking, Imperfect Prose, Emily liked what I had written on Easter Sunday.


Validation is something I crave, and over the years I have gotten very little. To have other people, strangers, comment positively on my inner most thoughts and feelings is amazingly empowering for me.


So today, as I said on Sunday, I find myself with gratitude in my heart. But unlike Sunday, I am also feeling joy. Another reminder of the continuing love and grace from my Father above, often bestowed by His children here on earth. 


Blessings and peace.
link up at Grace Alone