Survival Of The Not-so Fittest

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 27, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

So… the Earth didn’t open up and swallow me during my 5th step, like I imagined it would for so long. I put this step off for two years. I procrastinated to the point it was beyond ridiculous. I mean who wants to air their dirty laundry to God (as if He didn’t already know) and another person –not me.

I kept thinking I was “terminally unique”. I thought that no one had experienced the life I had. I had to be the worst person in the world. How special of me. Really, how self-righteous I had become. Self-centered. Self.

Two years (really longer) clean and in my program and I was still two-steppin it.. Which means I was hanging out on the concept my life was unmanageable but didn’t want to move forward into the other 10 steps…I was in my comfort zone and no one expected anything of me here.  I think there was a reason they called it a 12 step program.

I even thought if I stay in the first few steps, no one would expect me to sponsor them. No expectations. When the program clearly states, to help me stay sober I must help another addict / alcoholic. Hmm!

But it was like a cocoon in her shell too long, she would wither and die or must break out and fly. And the time came, I had to do something. There was a tremendous unrest within my soul. Thus, my 4th step was born. After the 5th step of sharing, came her afterbirth.

It wasn’t bad. As a matter of fact, it was cathartic. I felt like I had been cleansed in the fountain of youth. Freed from bondage.

I had endured once again.

I am a survivor.

Love,

Connie

Kickin Some 5th Step Butt

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on March 25, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

Dear 4th and 5th step… I’m not afraid of you… I’m not afraid of you… I’m not afraid of you… ok… maybe a little…

Let’s go kick some 5th step butt….

I’ll let you know how it goes….

 

love and prayer,

Connie

The Tainted Flower

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 12, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

This past weekend I went to visit my best friend. We go a long ways back, back to the days of nursing school. We were more acquaintances at that time but I knew who she was. I’m sure I hung out in the cool crowd and I probably talked to her on occasions. 🙂 After nursing school though, we worked close in proximity and became best of friends.

Over thirty years have passed with a lot of tears and laughter along the way. We have been there for each other through the good and the bad. She knows everything about me.

This past weekend was no different from any other. It was filled with surprises, reminiscing and laughter. We were sharing how she almost left me at a convenient store because she thought it was being robbed. She was literally pulling out of the store when I came out. I had to run and jump in her convertible as she was leaving the store. I have not let her live that one down.

Or the millions of times we have sung Stayin Alive by the Bee Gee’s totally out of tune. There was also the time we had people following us in the store saying, “This is the best day of my life” as they heard us saying it and because we were laughing so hard over our pig findings (she collects the little curly tail things—for whatever reason).

We are forever making memories and this weekend was no different. She had fixed dinner and fixed a great salad. I did all but lick the bowl. Now that I think of it, I might have. I asked her about the dressing and she said raspberry something…. I said, “No way, I hate raspberries.” So she went and got the bottle out of the refrigerator. She brought it out to where we were sitting in the living room floor. We were having a picnic. And there it was, “Raspberry Vinaigrette with …” “GOOD GOD.” I YELLED. It has poppy seeds in it. She sort of gave me this blank what-I’d-do-look and shrugged her shoulders. I was still yelling. “I’m going down. I’m going straight to poppy-seed hell. I’m busted. I’m… “I don’t know what all I said but I think I began talking in tongue. Her face was blank.

Finally, I said, “poppy seeds will give me a positive drug screen if I’m tested.” Then she started screaming. So we were both screaming. I grabbed my phone and started an engine search on my smart phone Google that was apparently smarter than me at the moment. But eventually I could say, thank goodness for Google. Yep, one bagel can give you a positive drug screen. I’m sure I ingested a bagel’s worth; after all, I licked the bowl.

So Iwas frantically calling every possible person I knew in the program. One said, don’t eat the poppy seeds. Well duh. By then, everyone was friggin freaking out. Yes, you’ll test positive.

The next 48 hours were hell. I waited for a phone call to go test, which never came. I don’t know how I was going to explain this.

So now my friend and I can remember the time she fed me an opium plant.

Love, Connie

She Snorted Her Mashed Potatoes

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on March 1, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

Funny thing happened on the way back from the buffet, she snorted her mashed potatoes!

What?

 We are getting “High” on everything now. Cinnamon, nutmeg, herbal incense (Synthetic marijuana) are just a few of the many mood altering substances out there. Hell, who dreams up this stuff, “I think I’ll snort some nutmeg today”? And if we aren’t getting high, we are getting fat on fried Twinkies. We are an addicted society. We are addicted to fast food, fast internet, and anything that gives us instant gratification.

Did I mention sex? The world is filled with sexy. Sex is fair game. The hunt is on. Just turn on the TV, open the newspaper, walk into our malls or just listen to our music. Our moral ground has shifted. Or has it?

Over indulgence. Instant pleasure. The ultimate fulfillment.

So the whole human (and not so human) race vacillates between good and evil? Morality vs immorality? Goodness vs iniquity?

 I’m not sure I’ve done anything in moderation. I doubt I even know what that is. If I do something, I do it to the extreme (except exercise) — My addictive personality I feel certain. That is why I am a drug addict and an alcoholic. If the bottle says take two pills, I take four. And heaven forbid I just sip on a glass of wine. Who does that anyway? Gulp!

My new addiction—Starbucks.

Moderation or there-lack-of is why I struggle with staying thin. If I bake cookies, I only eat one but I eat half the bowl in cookie dough. Lack of moderation is why I struggle with other things in my life. Always another thorn in my flesh as Paul wrote about.

For Noah was drunk on wine… David took a mistress …even the animals ate fermented fruit.

Today…let me just simply be…

Love, Connie

A Better Version Of Me

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on February 26, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

I believe in the small talk, in 2nd, 3rd and 4th chances, forgiving those in my past and missing the cracks in the pavement (or “you break your mother’s back,” I sang as a kid). I strive for obedience when it does not make sense — denoting a sense of submission.

And when the world of good and evil collide, I might smile that crooked smile revealing my fragile life. I realize how easily my broken and shattered place of being has come to. I sense the vulnerably delicate existence of my heart.

I daydream of a better time, where my soul whispers truth and dedication of Someone’s love. Be still my beating heart and listen. (Psalm 46:10) Once again, conformity and submission take their place in my life calling out my name. I hear her. But I don’t always answer. Shame. Guilt. Even so, my mind takes a stand. But God…you gave me this desire, did you not? And the raging internal war goes on. Why can’t I be more like Jesus? Why can’t I overcome each time? Satan makes out a new buffet of sin every day.

I can choose to order off the menu or the buffet. Some days the buffet looks inviting. Satan is smart and cunning. He is powerful. (Sounds like the disease of addiction)

I bite.

Then there is the long conviction of worthlessness that builds her walls around my heart.  The very thing I desire, I fight back against. Does my world of panic-stricken emotions and uncertainty mask this lonely spirit? Or tear down the very walls built to coddle my wounds.

Easy to forgive others. Not so easy to forgive myself.

But…

For God went right for the jugular when He sent His own Son.” (Romans 8:3, the message) so the least I can do is work on the whole forgiveness thing…

And I pray for a better version of me.

Love,

Connie

Truth is

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on February 25, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

God does dance….I’m living proof

Like A Sailor

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on February 18, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

Who decided that four letter words were bad? Jesus or my mom? Is profanity an universal language of the people? Go figure, this is one of the hot topics at our monthly meetings at A.A. “The Dude cusses like a sailor,” someone will bring up. And the discussion goes on with no resolution.

Like the bumper sticks says—Conflict Happens! Conflict is good though. It helps us grow for without it, we would remain stagnant.

I have often wondered what God really thinks about profanity. Are these four letter words just another word? Does He count the number of times we use a bad word? Is there a scale of which some words are worse than others? Or what about gossip and sarcasm? What about—she deserved that; she was a drug addict, after all. (That makes me cringe every time I hear this phrase. Yes, I take it personal. I find myself more worthy than that statement. )

Or maybe God is more down on people who are super religious. The people who are “better” than everyone else because they are more knowledgeable, more self-righteous, and are like sandpaper with its grate gone. It is not enough to smooth out your rough edges but enough to get on your nerves.  I think God would rather have someone who could really express themselves than a self-righteous, gossipy, know-it-all, do gooder.

I know I would rather sit with someone who expressed himself (or herself) passionately than preached to me the dos and don’ts of a morally corrupt society (me). And I am made in His image. (Gen 1:27)

I remember once when my daughter was three years old and she was cooking on her pretend stove and dropped her spatula, she let out a “Damn.” I had to turn away to keep from busting a gut. I think God does that with us sometimes. I think He snickers.  So we can agree to disagree here.

And if all this fails to convince you, there is always forgiveness.

Love,

Connie