Compassion

The lesson at worship service today was all about having compassion for people...not just simple concern, but real spiritual compassion. I have to be honest. This is not an area where I can say that I exhibit that kind of compassion. I was talking with my husband about it this afternoon because I really do want to be compassionate towards people. For example, a neighbor of mine walked by me in obvious pain and I asked her what was wrong. She stated that she had a headache and I immediately offered her something for it. Then today, she made a very rude remark to my husband. I am sorry but it made me angry and my thing is that once I get angry I have a really hard time forgiving, much less forgetting. I struggle to forgive even the smallest of infractions. My husband thinks that this is because I have been taken advantage of so many times in my life that when my fragile level of trust with someone is broken I simply cannot get past it.
I certainly have my share of hurts and insecurities in my life. I struggled through a difficult marriage for fifteen years that left me broken in more ways than one. Trusting people on more than a superficial level is very hard for me. I am perfectly well aware that there are people who have suffered infinitely harder things than I have and survived with grace and dignity and compassion for others still intact. I question why I cannot be that way. I do not want to be an uncaring person. I want to reach out to others in kindness without expecting a return...but also without fearing that I will somehow be ill used.
I am going to try, really try to work on this. I will try to be a more compassionate person. I will try to let go of this futile sense of injustice and anger that simmers just beneath the surface of my emotions. I will try not to let other people's imperfections stand in the way of my own spiritual growth. I have enough of my own to work on.

Fair Weather Friends

Over the summer when I was in a crisis point situation I really found out who my friends were and let me tell you there were not many. As a matter of fact only one person responded to my need and it was someone I did not even ask for help. Do you ever get tired of people with fake smiles and false promises who claim to be your friend but somehow they are never there when you need them? I got tired of it. Real tired of it. I deleted quite a few people from my friends that day and I do not regret a single one.
Now I know we are supposed to forgive and forget. To overlook those small imperfections in people and try to see the good in everyone. I was raised in the South. That means as a lady you are never rude, never confrontational, you never ever speak up for yourself, you just keep taking people's crap with a smile on your face. Well I don't think so. Not ever again. I can be a kind, compassionate, strong Southern lady without that kind of nonsense.

Changing Weather Changing Life

I always have a hard time in the fall emotionally and I don't know why because I love fall. I think the leaves changing color are beautiful, I love the cooler weather and the smell of wood smoke in the mornings, I love pumpkins and apples and scarecrows, and I love decorating the house for Halloween and Thanksgiving. All this week I have just been so sad, sitting here feeling all alone in a house full of people, trying to hold back tears that I have no way of explaining, if anyone even noticed they were there. Fall in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia is so heartbreakingly lovely I would not want to be anywhere else at this time of year.
What is it then that makes me feel so alone and lonely? At 48 I am not a young woman anymore. My last few babies are growing up fast and I have grandchildren all around me to remind me that my years of being a mom are quickly coming to an end. I have loved having a house full of children all these years but it isn't the same when it becomes a house full of young adults doing their own thing and living their own lives. I know that it was something of an accomplishment to get all these younguns raised but why do I feel that so much of life just passed me by?
I am writing this blog for myself. No one else is reading it. I guess this is just an outlet for me to try and express some of my feelings. Lord knows I have no one to talk to and even if I tried they wouldn't understand. After all no one has it easy these days, at least not in my world. Can't find decent jobs that pay enough money to live on, hard to keep food on the table, hard times for everyone. I have a place to live and food to eat and we can just barely keep the wolf from the door so who am I to complain.
So this is what I wish for my kids to know about me. I loved them as best I could, provided for them and took care of them all the days of my life and suddenly they didn't need me anymore. I wish I could live inside my memories of the days when they were all little and clamoring around me with so much joyful chaos I could barely think. I look at pictures of those days gone by and I realize that my life is so empty now...all the color is gone all the happiness all the tumultuous ruckus that filled up my heart and my soul. I just honestly do not know what to do with myself.

One Step Forward Two Steps Back

So here we are back where we started. I know that we are lucky we had a place to come back to so I sound really bad to regret it. We tried so desperately hard to hang onto our own house but we just couldn't do it. The economy clamped down around us and just didn't let go. So we packed it all up and came back to my family's house with my mom and my older sons. I don't think anyone is happy about it. My husband feels like he let us down, as if he failed in his job as the man of the house, to provide for me and the boys and take care of us. My two youngest sons are not happy because they have to share a room and there are strangers living here who moved in to help my son pay the rent while we were gone for a year. My almost seventeen year old hates it here, all he can talk about is getting a job, saving his money, and moving out. I'm not happy. The situation here is far from ideal and it is hard to get used to after I had my own home for a year to clean, and decorate, and live as I pleased without having to worry about anyone else. Don't get me wrong. I love my mother, I love my sons. I am happy to be back where I can see them and spend time with them. We combined forces to make it easier for all of us to live. I have worked my butt off in the space that I have to make things homey and nice for everyone. Why then do I feel so sad?