Paperwork Schmaperwerk

It has been months I've made any brazen attempts at knowing this strange woman who quite possibly begrudgingly carried me in her warm womb, then in a matter of six short, but painful hours, squeezed me through her birth canal and then left my life forever. The paperwork I have on my birth which is completely compiled in one tight paragraph, did not detail the nuances of childbirth and pregnancy the way most loving mothers would recall having their first born child- splashed with descriptive actions like 'felt your little kicks" and, "rubbing my belly," and the word glisten was perfectly absent. There is a simple, almost polite, completely sterile, three sentence paragraph with not a single comma. Bland and nondescript- as if baby birthing in 1976 was equal to a one-liner joke told by a Rodney Dangerfield impersonator in a seedy off off Broadway flat in NY's finest shitty neighborhood. I don't get it. Not one iota of detail surrounding the birth of a human being except a scientific description of my twisted right foot, and a suggested path to correction. Wow. That is one great book to read- about as informative and interesting as reading a printer manual in Mandarin.

I guess this disgusting lack of description is particularly deflating to someone like me for selfish reasons. I like to describe things. Nothing makes me more happy than to accurately and intricately outline a story. I like to know the juice, drink the juice, be the juice. The nitty gritty intrigues my mind, and I get off on being understood and explaining things to the point of undeniability. And when it is finished, you'll know because you will want more- like now. Like exactly now.

Truth be told, all of this driving desire to reunite with these perfect strangers is a combo of selfish determination and self-unawareness- self being the key descriptor. It's just not right to want to invade someones privacy for senseless reasons that only pertain to myself. Devilishly transparent, even putrid you might be thinking. Either way, I will get to the bottom of this if I have to think this thing into the ground and later excavate it. I hate to say this will be the death of me because I am hoping and praying that breath will be spoken into this relationship, but I have somewhat prepared for a slam in the face heart-wrenching NO, which is really what I've already been dealing with I suppose. The fact that these long lost people of mine, well formerly mine, in utero only, have not responded to my oddball requests and multiple letters to my birth mother, each more forceful than its predecessor, the fact that they have not responded in any form or fashion reminds me of Dumb and Dumber when Lloyd was told that there was one in a million chances that he would have a chance with the girl, and he jumped up, clicking his heels, and said, "You mean there is a chance!" Actually, in the movie I don't recall any leprechaun heel clicking moves in that scene, but there could have been. My memory isn't as good as yours probably.

I have turned into Lloyd. Great. Despite the very real truth that I love Dumb and Dumber with all my heart and even have a VHS copy of it in case the DVD accidentally cracks, I do not insist on insulting my intelligence like that, but I prefer to see the humor in most things uncomfortable.

Lucky for me (and Lloyd) there is hope- that small sliver of detail that people often forget about when the going gets rough. I plan to rely on that and faith for the rest of my life, and until either of those run out, I know in my heart that I will be fine. Period.

I will continue the elusive chase I imagine, until I feel satisfied with one answer, or until I am completely pushed off the face of the earth- whichever comes first.

I like to keep the stalking fresh and switch it up every now and then. Occasionally, banging through the keyboard by means of a random message sent on Facebook, not surprising at all if you think about it, considering 100,000,000,000 (too many zeros) people are finely in-tune with it's feed and consider posting to it a daily ritual, myself included.  I have not picked up the phone to call my birth aunt though lately; Melody is her name- to announce to her family on what sounded like a 1987 Radio Shack answering machine that I have been looking for them for quite some time, and that I believe that we are related. No return call. Twice I called, twice left messages, the second more direct than the first and probably more insistent on a return call, which was not honored nor probably appreciated, based on the response I got- which was zip, zilch, and zero all combined into a whopping bag of nothing.

I have also written the birth mother one snail mail letter, and two separate emails. None returned, so that is a clear indicator that Mr.M Daemon did not get a hold of them. I also have bombarded her friend, and my former friend who has assimilated to the non-responsiveness that the rest of the family is taking up. She unknowingly released the privied information to the search angel, Debi, who ultimately found my birth mother for me, in a very closed, and very sealed adoption dating back to the seventies. I just aged myself, but for the sake of the storyline, which is really my life story unfolding as you see it here, I will take it like a champ. The friend who outed my birth mother, probably got a tongue lashing and a cold shoulder after that, which might assign some truth into the character of my birth mother and her unassuming family. Well I honestly don't believe she told any one in her family other than her sister, and parents who visited her while she was in the maternity home which was and still is located in Charlotte.

One day soon, I might have a visit to the Florence Crittenton Home for unwed mothers. I might just have a visit this weekend. I'll take my camera and upload some pics of the joint since no one thought it was appropriate back then when I was born. I guess instead of creating memories, the birth mothers wanted to shove the memory of birthing a baby and giving it away to complete strangers to raise is something that was not especially camera worthy, and not exactly fond, and probably something that kept resurfacing at odd times throughout the years creating much pain and undue suffering.

But I guess back then, the idea was to keep the privacy of the adoptive parents at the forefront, and the rights of the birth parents practically abolished like the detailed descriptions were of the births and what led up to the births. That would include any real life situations that could have been addressed without having to give up a child.  Maybe that is the truth. Maybe if those thoughts were revisited for too long, ideas would form that would lead to different outcomes and different lives, affecting the world in a much easier, digestible light. Maybe, just maybe I would not be sitting here right now, typing this.

I am very thankful for my family. Do not get it twisted. I am truly blessed, but with that blessing came a very real interest, inherited if you will, and born deep into my soul in finding my people. I think anyone who takes that for granted has no idea what it is like to be the one who doesn't.

If it happens that we meet, that we exchange some open communication, some rhetoric is dialed up, maybe even some real life interaction, I don't know what I should expect because I have already formed in my mind what it will look like when it happens. That is a probably one of the only private things about this story of mine that I have remained sealed about. That too, will be revealed, as more is revealed, an unveiling of a mystery. That mystery holds the key to me. And by God, I am determined to get to the bottom of it- even if the outcome is devastatingly unfavorable. I can assume closure, and this chapter will be no longer an anomaly in this life.

Overcoming your doubt sounds difficult, but it's quite easy.

I haven't heard from Colette yet. I don't think I will. I'm getting tired of thinking about it, of wondering what her motives are, of being adopted. I just want to not have these things to worry about-to move on, and let it all go. It's easier said than done I'm learning. I  guess this is what they call a stage. The head shrinkers would agree, I assume. What I'm going through is a process. You've heard the term 'process of elimination' a thousand times, the terms, 'I'm processing', and 'it's a process'. I guess those are all ways of making yourself feel better without drugs and most likely in conjunction with making a lot of hard, and sometimes bad decisions. Maybe making bad decisions is part of the process. Maybe having made those decisions, and dealing with those issues which could be detrimental to your immediate or long term health are really just disguised as problems, but in reality, you are learning to cope and those preemptive strikes against your mind are your best coping mechanisms coming to focus. And what's more, maybe, just maybe, these 'underlying issues' that come nicely wrapped as problems are God's way of training us to deal with our immediate needs in a constructive manner.

I never equated problems with goodness until fairly recently, when I noticed that my gratitude was lacking. A healthy dose of feeling sorry for yourself can either bring one of two things out: 1. an ungrateful beast who worries too much about unimportant things, but because you are so self focused, the puny things become monstrous or 2.a slap in the face to wake up and be thankful for all the good problems you are faced with.

It's never too late to be grateful. It's never too early to be giving, and one thing's for certain, and I've learned this one the hard way, it's never wrong to express your true feelings. In fact, there are many people in the world who keep things bottled up. They tense up in situations that others think nothing about. They worry and they create their own little imaginative world that oozes of self deprecation and self doubt. I do this on occasion, and when I do it's no joke. I will second guess everything that I do as a  result. And it's not until I realize, or a good friend tells me bluntly and usually with a slight sting, that I'm working myself up over practically nothing. We all are guilty of this. I don't care how many ways you spin it. You are never flawless. You are not always confident, and if you are, then I applaud you for your amazing dose of denial. 

It's when I get to the point of true doubt, that I realize that I need to give more control to God, and trust that He will do what He has promised. He is the controller of my destiny, and although I play a small role in the whereabouts and minor details of what equals the life of Brookedom, the deciding factor is left up to God. If I would just quit questioning everything...If I could just let go of worry and know that what is right will be done when the time is right, I would be be better off. 

The difficulty and resistance in trusting God is something that most all of us have in common, Christians, Muslims, Catholics, Buddhists, non religious affiliates combined. We do not believe what is set in front of us. We exude doubt and that's the devil's way of winning, and it's our way of throwing in the towel without even recognizing we're doing so. When you constantly doubt others' intentions you are risking a lot. I don't know if losing out on something that's potentially really good is worth the risk. It probably isn't. 

I'm going to be blunt forever. I'm going to release myself of doubt because I'm just going to come out and say what I have to say, and ask what I have to ask, so I will know. My problem lies in my delivery, as does most people who are forthright in their thoughts and actions. It's a double-edged sword. When you are outgoing, when you are not shy, you are most likely a victim of communication breakdown because even though you might have the balls to say what you are thinking, you might not have the couth to deliver it gracefully.  Nothing worth anything came easily to anyone, and that's the scary truth. 

I have officially written myself out of doubt for the time being because I let God take it's place. You should try it sometime

My FINAL post...a happy ending

It dawned on me that my birth mother might find this blog now that she has my name. It would not be hard for her to find this since for some probably incredibly self-absorbed reason I have tweeted a post here and there. I can't explain why I feel compelled to share such a personal struggle with an often cold, heartless world, and even if I could, you most likely would not understand it unless you are adopted. In fact, I came to the realization that most people do not understand the dynamic of adoption- including the adoptees. I've noticed that many adoptees don't see the goodness in it, because they are sometimes too self-absorbed and reeling from the unknowns that they themselves do not find the truth in the matter- that adoption more often than not, stemmed from love in the purest form. It stemmed from a place in the heart that has boundless love and grace.

People don't realize that when we give something up, we are making room for something new and something better. That's how God describes brokenness. He says that he must break us to rebuild us. And how can I go my entire life thinking about why this woman gave me up without first realizing that had she not have, I would not know the people that I do, had the family that I have, or led the life that I've lived? How could I not have the  perspective that shows me that what I have been devoid of, was nothing that really made a difference in of itself to begin with? I would have never thought that I would come to this realization while sitting at my computer at work on a Monday morning.

I finally came full circle.

I realize now that whatever it was that I felt I needed so badly in my life, my birth mother, my blood relatives, my history, never really mattered in the first place. I never needed what I didn't have, and I think that's what God was trying to tell me all this time I have been writing this blog and doing this search, acting as if it was a rescue. I never needed to be saved, and neither did Colette. We were separated for a reason that God had planned. We needed to be taught some of the most valuable of all lessons. I can't speak for her, but I can speak for myself. I think he was trying to generate some gratitude from me- gratitude that I have always had what I needed when I needed it, and for as long as I needed it. That's my gift in all of this. I am finally beginning to understand the lesson at hand- the lifelong lesson, and they are always lifelong in my opinion. We can never have too much knowledge, too much understanding, too much grace. I have received it, and I thank God for giving me this gift that never ceases to fill hearts- the gift of gratitude, of gratefulness, of thankfulness, of grace. And boy do I need all I can get of grace. But in order for me to be able to receive God's gifts in my life, I needed to be thankful for what I have already been given- which is a life of wonderful blessings. I have a wonderful family, a beautiful daughter. I have a great job. I have a house, a car, and I attend a wonderful church that I feel so happy to be a part of. But the things that matter most...matters of the heart, those are the true blessings- the intangibles- happiness, love, gratitude, peace, joy, generosity, kindness, understanding of others, cheer, consideration of others.

So as of right now this second, I have finally realized that I do not need to know the reasons for my lifelong separation from the woman who gave birth to me. It doesn't matter. It was a loving plan that God had made for me. It was His way of saying, "I love you, my child," as he continually does for all of us. It's unfortunate that we don't pay enough attention to His whispers. I am so glad that I finally heard Him say, "You are MY child, Brooke."

I think I can probably retire this blog now. So it's with great pleasure and peace in my heart that I can bid you au revoir...

Unless I hear from Colette of course, and I will fill you in then...

Day 6- no response, but it's fine.

So, I haven't posted anything since the day I dropped the card on April 11. My boss, Lynn, went with me to do it. She is incredibly freaking awesome, and has been nothing but encouraging to me and supportive. I am blessed to have a boss that actually cares about me on a personal level. (It's all personal in my opinion- everything is.)

There really hasn't been a good reason for my lack of posting, except that I haven't had a lot of time, and I haven't had much to say about it. Everyone keeps asking me if I've heard anything, to which I have replied a monotone, and today a somewhat saddened, "No". It's kind of like when you are not pregnant and someone asks you if you are. You either feel one of two things: you're really pissed at the person for insinuating you are plumper than you thought you were, OR, you are upset because you want to be pregnant, but for some reason, maybe God has another loving plan for your life, you are not. Either way, I am focused on staying positive and trying not to think of it too much, and praying for Colette, when I remember to. I forget to pray too much. It's one of the things I'm working on.

I know it will end up the way God intended it to end up, so knowing that makes it easier. It took me since last August to gain the courage to make the first move, to give up the upper hand, which relinquished me from having all the power in this dynamic situation. Sometimes, that's all God wants from us- for us to set aside our pride, to let go of the upper hand, and let Him do His job. That's not easy for someone like me, and probably most people. But it's something we all must do, so that He can give us our best. So for today, and hopefully for the rest of my life, I will relinquish the control to Him, and let Him be the decider of my fate, and trust Him that it will be what is right and good.

I know I preach a lot, and it might bother a few of you who read my blog, and I'm sorry if you are one of those people, not because I'm possibly offending you, but because I'm sorry you aren't strong enough to let go of your foolish pride that holds you back from believing in our beautiful Author and Creator, the one who beckons at you every day, in many many ways, and wants you back.

Change your Lens dude.

How I wish there was a Starbucks in my neighborhood. No, actually, let's make it in my house, and on my nightstand right this second. Don't you wish you could just think something up, and it would happen? Some people say that you can. They call it the the law of reciprocity, which in essence, really means, that what you exert comes back to you. I don't know if I believe all that crap, but one thing is for certain. The people that you surround yourself with will undoubtedly change your outcomes if you let them. We will obviously have many outcomes in our lives because nothing stays the same, nothing is permanent, and life is a constant motion.

I learned this lesson the hard way in many cases, especially recently. I happen to be very trusting person, thus probably naive to the world and its many inhabitants. There are those who want to bring process improvement, who are driven by matters of the heart, who are not hesitant to help, and not thinking in terms of dollar signs, but genuinely want to help one another. And you have those who want to save the world, but who want and expect to get rich doing so, and instead of climbing the mountain with a walking stick, they climb over people instead, squashing them like ants on a sidewalk. And there are those who don't care period. They don't genuinely care about themselves, others, or anything for that matter. In their twisted mind they are "helping, " but the truth of the matter is, they are doing just the opposite. They are making matters worse. I wouldn't say that there are 3 types of people in the world because I'm not a fan of stereotyping. But I would say that people are often mislead. We are guilty of doing it, and we are victims of it.

I believe that setbacks are just lessons learned. Some happen to be more biting than others, but they are all the same whether we want to believe it or not. We should all try to constantly clean our lenses, and if you want to think in terms of the bigger picture, one could say that we all need to be viewing our setbacks as welcomed times for us to grow and learn and morph. It's all in your outlook. No problem is too big. None is worse than another. It's all relevant, and it's real, and you are always capable of fixing whatever it is that plagues you just by cleaning your lens. And while you might not be able to change the actual outcome or actually put the broken pieces back together because maybe some are missing, maybe some are cracked, you are able and capable of changing the way you let the brokeness affect you as a whole. You can choose to be aware of your surroundings or  be self aware.


Now I know you are thinking, "Brooke, that's bullshit. A 4 year old daughter who has Spinibifida is not comparable to your pipes in your house being shaken up a little. A terminally ill mother of 6 young children is nowhere near the likes of a car breaking down or a missed school bus, or a computer virus that shuts down your website." And while you might be thinking that they are not related, not in the same category of pain, same lines of stress, or in comparison by any means, they are all relative, and all manageable.

How we deal with stressors in our lives that have potential to rip away layers of our very beings is most important. The way we react can often lead to our outcomes, and the people we involve ourselves with can interfere with healthy reactions regularly. This is a very sensitive topic for many people in the world today. Whiners and nay sayers will tell you over and over again that it can't be done, that there is no way, that you are naive in your thinking. And you will start believing their lies. So before you get entangled with people who don't think positively, and don't clean their lenses often, politely remove yourself from their realm. It's OK to withdraw. Your services have been rendered long enough. And some people you can never change. But you can always, always change yourself.

I have peace in my heart because I know that God is working on me and for me. You can always know that God is working in your behalf even when you don't see it. Often times you won't. And often times you will not understand your adversity. But if you embrace your adversity, you will grow in ways that you would have never thought possible especially,  "in that situation." But always know that He is working on your behalf- the silent partner. I owe it to God. Without him, nothing is possible.

Final Thought

A couple days ago a co-worker of mine, who I consider to be a real friend, because we meet at the mind quite frequently, and our hearts seem to be in sync also, told me something that resonated in me. She said that God can't fix your heart if you don't give him all the pieces. I think that says it all for now. I love our "smoke breaks" (Neither of us smoke. Smoking is yucky.)

I'm a sucker, but it could be worse.

It's official. I am a grade A #1 sucker.
I have been dealing with this ongoing water damage claim with my insurance, with three questionable construction men of sorts, all of which I thought I could trust, all of which thought they could trust me as well, and we all secretly didn't trust each other was what it really boiled down to. It's not uncommon for humans to act on feelings. People often comment that women are more susceptible to acting out on feelings, which leaves men therefore less inclined to act on feelings, and even further less inclined to show emotion. So they say. I have found that to be totally false, unwarranted, lacking of merit, and undeniably misdiagnosed. And I owe it all to a few pipes that wanted to rebel against the unruly and unforgivable raw sewage that forces its path through them. I don't know, but if I was a pipe, I would probably do the same thing. Who wants to have urine running all over them, much less #2? There are people in this messed up world we live in who do, but thankfully and somewhat surprisingly, I do not know them.

To make a long, very boring, and confusing story, digestible (pun intended- get it? pipes, digest, you are laughing inside. I just know you are.)

My house had either a clog in the main line, or a root growing through the pipe or it was demon possessed. I'm fine with entering a plea of a combination of all three. The truth is, I don't know what the heck the problem is with the plumbing in my house. Whatever the issue, it is still unfortunately unknown to me, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was unknown by all interested parties, and I use the word interested very loosely here. What makes an object of desire intriguing to one person is entirely different to another. Essentially, I'm saying that my best interest was not at hand, although I was told repeatedly by all parties involved, the insurers, the fixer uppers, and the friends of the fixer uppers, that I was being carefully looked after. I even told myself that I was being diligent in hiring the right people. After all, all people who were hired were friends of someone I knew. That is scary in itself. It's scary that all three of the people that I hired knew someone I knew, and all three were clowns, untrustworthy, grimy fuckheads. I say that with only the purest of disdain and bitterness. You'll have to excuse my French, but if you were me, and lucky for you you are safely you, you would probably have thrown a chair through your 15th story high rise window while you were still seated on top of it. I have maintained composure somehow. God helps. A lot. I will probably have to sit an extra 32 hours on the white couch, which will match my new white hair when it's all said and done.

In all of this nightmare that has both snuffed out too many of my semi-precious cell phone minutes, and raped me of three hours of my morning routine work day, which accumulate to about a weeks worth of real work, I have learned that people, not all people, but people in general are assholes. People will lie to your face, they will tell you what you want to hear, and they will do it without the bat of an eyelash. People run on emotions and act on feelings. It's probably why we live in such a litigious society, and why we make threats that we don't intend on ever following up on. We want to protect ourselves from the likes of ourselves. It's scary. I hate this world sometimes. By the time I die, I will be either very bitter or truly enlightened, maybe both, but either way, I will hopefully be wise enough to know when someone is telling me the truth. And if I know by instinct, then I will act on intuition, and go with my gut feeling.

Final Thoughts

We don't trust our gut feelings enough, which I believe is really the Holy Spirit. If we listened more without asking the whys and hows and just know that He is in control of all things, we would all be better off, and have less worry, less anxiety, and less need for control. I, for one need to believe God to do the things that he says he will do more often and quit trying to figure out why He does what He does, and just be fine with knowing that He's in control, and everything will be fine. It will all be over soon enough, and these worries of drywall and laminate vs hardwood will be nothing more than a fart in the wind to put it eloquently. And thank God. I can't take much more of this.

Feeling Christine Caine inspired

I've been attending Elevation Church for a few years now. I can't say anything bad about it- not one thing. Each time I walk out of those double doors, Sarah trailing behind me or in tow on my hip, I can't help but feel rejuvenated. If I tried to deny it, I would be a fool. If I tried to understand why God does the things He does, I would be an idiot.
So why do I have a hard time believing He will fulfill His promises? I know that I'm the one to blame for this inadequacy in myself, and that He will always be there to protect and love me, no matter how I screw up. And believe me when I say this, I screw up a lot. I think that's fairly humanistic.
I attended the CodeOrangeRevival last night to see Christine Caine, and I was lucky enough to have been asked to sit on stage, a new thing that Pastor Steven felt would be encouraging for him and the other preachers. Some of them are traveling the globe to be here, in Charlotte, NC, and have set aside their families and churches to be able to speak the word to our church. For that, I feel very thankful, along with the other thousands of Elevators in our city and across the globe.
When I say globe, I am not embellishing. There is one pastor, in particular, who came all the way from Australia to be with us. Her name is Pastor Christine Caine. She is an inspiration to womanhood. She leads and speaks with passion and takes human rights very seriously. Having started a campaign called A21, Christine Caine is nothing shy of extraordinary, although I feel she would never admit that.
A21 is a campaign against human trafficking. There is a shelter set up in Greece as a safe haven for trafficked women that offers safety, comfort, medical attention, financial help with college studies, psychological care and a place where the victims can be restored with the love that God has for them. She took this challenge on with her faith in God, and with the knowledge that God can do anything, and to quote scripture, "through Him all things are made."
Why can't I take that thought, that all- withstanding truth, and apply it to my own life? I trust Him with my finances, for the most part anyway. He has always come through, and I have never gone without in that regard. I trust him with my health. I have had what some might call, some pretty bad scares in my life, but I have reemerged unscathed.
In fact, just last week, I had talked myself into believing that I had some kind of tumor on my cervix. I was freaking out and went to the doctor only to find that what I was feeling in that woman part of mine, was in fact my cervix. But as I was sitting in the doctor's room, very vulnerable, very unsure, very worrisome to the point of tears, I looked over to my left. And there, sitting in the magazine rack right in the very front pocket was a children's Bible. You know that Bible. It has the enlarged B for Bible, and with it's hardback blue cover, so familiar to me, I guess because I had seen it over the years at various offices of sorts, usually doctor's offices, as I recall. Its original print date was probably 1972, but the Bible doesn't have updated editions, so what real difference does it make to have one that has a more recent picture or one of a woman wearing an Afro and bell bottoms?
I picked it up and opened it to whatever page it landed on, like many of us thoughtlessly do, which I've been told is probably not the right way to read the Bible, because when we open it up and expect that we have opened it up to the page that God wants to speak to us through, we are giving ourselves the credit, when really the credit should always be given to Him.
Irregardless, the page that it happened to land on, the page that gave me comfort at a time that I needed it most, in that instance anyway, was Genesis. I think it's a fair assumption that most believers and non-believers know what story that is. It's the story of Adam and Eve. It's the story that describes the beginning of time, the creation story, and the story that forced humankind into the labors of life that we will constantly toil with. But the end of that particular story, and even still there has not been a true end to God's story, and never will be, I might add, gives birth to hope. It shows God's infinite love for us, and reminds us that even though we screw up, He will always love us. It never says we won't be punished for our actions. We will be. That's life on Earth, and maybe in Heaven, but I haven't been there yet to be able to write about it.
The point that I got lost on though, while thinking about everything that has recently transpired in my life, is that I don't truth Him enough. I don't trust that He will do what He promises. The only way that I know I will be able to do that, is by exalting Him, and through surrender. No one more than me hates the idea of surrender. Surrender? I'm not doing that. That means I have to give up? No way. I am all in, all the time. I refuse to say that I lost, another common denominator of humans. We are fighters. We are finishers. We are competitive by nature, even those of us who falsely, yet profusely proclaim that we aren't.
I need to try to learn that in His time, my life will come together. And the thing is, humans created time, not God. We put a ticker on everything, like Pastor Christine said last night. I stand guilty as charged.
We think that we are the deciders of fate. How presumptuous of us, how inflated, how inequitable.
This is where I start to stumble. If we are to wait on God, to let Him lead our lives, then how can I be proactive? I've always been told by my Mom that God helps those who help themselves. So how am I to know when I am not helping myself?
Is being on Match.com against the rules? Should I be patiently waiting on God to bring me a man instead of putting my antennae out there? I struggle with that sometimes. I want to have a man in my life that loves me, that I can love, but more importantly who loves God just as much as me, if not more. I haven't had any luck thus far. It's been about 5 months, and I'm about to cash in on their 6 month guarantee. You watch.
I believe that He is working on me still. He knows that I'm not at a point in my life that I can fully give someone else the love they need, and I am not fully capable to receive it. Some might think they are, and they stay in these destructive relationships for years, ignoring the obvious because they are too afraid to be alone. They don't want to start over. It's pretty scary to start over for most people, me included. I stayed in a loveless relationship for 6 years of my life. Then went on to another for another 3 years. For what? All because I was too afraid that my heart might hurt a little? My schedule might change? My child will miss him? There's a common excuse for many people. But the fact about that is this. Kids are resilient, much more than adults are. They forget quicker, and they don't understand the ramifications of a break-up because they don't know what true love is. So using that as an excuse is lame. Sorry to say it. The effects of staying in an unloving relationship until your kids grow up and are able to understand what true love is, is far more damaging and will require much more psychological attention in the long run.
I was concerned that my circle of friends would be broken, and it was. I was worried that I wouldn't do the same unGodly things that I did, you know what I'm talking about here, and I didn't. Let's be honest here. It's not sex that we crave. It's love. It's someone who cares about your well being. It's knowing that someone is there for you when you fall on your face. It's having someone help you brush yourself off and boost you up when you are too timid to try again. I crave that. I don't crave sex, and God tells us that sex before marriage is not the way. He doesn't say that there won't be incredible temptation. He doesn't say that it doesn't feel good. It does; we all know it does.
I'm trying to help myself trust Him more with everything in my being. Sex is something that, like most people, married and single, I like. And knowing that He doesn't want me to do it before I get married makes it even harder to do it. It makes it unpleasant even, when normally it would be great. I'm not speaking of anything recent here, just saying that since I have really started injecting God's word into my life, I have been a changed woman. I make better decisions. I think more logically. And I trust Him certainly more than I ever did. As soon as I can fully surrender to Him, I will be in much better shape though. I'm looking to make myself better, and in the process help a few others make themselves better.

Thanks for reading my blog. I appreciate every one's active interest in what little ole Brooke has to say.