Archive for Genesis

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

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Speechless

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on August 21, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

Many years, too-many-to-count, I cried, “God, please take this “thorn in my flesh” from me.” But my prayer seemingly went unanswered. In the throes of sickness, I blamed everyone. I blamed my past, my parents, my family and well just anyone or any circumstance without really ever stepping up to the plate of onus to my disease. And not just the disease of addiction, but that of self. Self-centeredness, Pride, arrogance just to name a few.

The disease of the “Self” doesn’t just happen to me. Daily I hear it. At work, when things aren’t going as others would like or think it should, it is a constant battlefield of “life isn’t fair.” Life became unfair at the time of the Fall—in the Garden of Eden.) (Genesis)

The world became a sky painted of grays as a background to many living life of shattered hope.

Hope –Faith, being the sureness of “… what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1)

Thus, maybe my hope of something isn’t what I was expecting… but something beyond my wildest dreams.

Just maybe in the unfairness of it all awaits my God ready to steal my breath and leave me speechless.  

Beautifully Awkward

Look At Her Butt

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on June 1, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

Just look at her butt. Is my butt that big? Deep down I don’t care for this person so I jump on board and continue to diminish the character of this person until there is nothing left but to spit out the bones–unbeknownst to her.  The conversation is so derogatory that it would knock an Angel right out of its’ cozy nest on a snow glisten night.

Why must we do this to each other?

There is something about peering into the life of another. We are rubbernecking in a sense. We come upon a car accident; we will slow down to a snail’s pace.  We are enamored by the gruesome mutilation that devours the human body.  Our mind goes into the “what if’s”. We cannot remove our gaze from the sight for deep within us, the grotesqueness takes us to a place we dare not go …

Dark, cold and deep in the center core…is where we spend most of our life running from.

Whether we are the victim or the bystander, we are all but small frail humans. We desperately seek to be accepted and loved—at any cost. We would sell our soul to the Devil if it meant one moment of pleasure.  (Genesis 25:29-34)

We all have been there. Some are still there. We want to matter to someone. We would rather suffer in pain and agony than to not matter at all. This is why the Emergency Rooms are so full. Many of the patients injuries sadly, are self-inflicted or could have been prevented. But these patients are seeking attention. Or seeking the drugs to dull their senses and take them out of the  agony so they no longer feel. 

 What are we looking for?

We are looking to measure up, to be measured by and yet, when it comes to God we won’t let Him fill our measuring cup. We live in secret. We live in darkness. (Isaiah 45:19)

It is only in that small flicker of light, and where we can call out for hope in a newfound peace. So many people try to describe a God as one that is scurrying around trying to get His house in order but this isn’t the case. The Resurrection of Christ was not some desperate last-minute thought of God’s part to save the Hero. It was God’s original plan all along. His Son was and is our Hope.

Jesus is our love, our acceptance; He is our hope.

Beautifully Awkward