Keep On Keeping On

For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. In their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone. Psalm 91:11-12

I'm a kept woman. At least that's what I realized these last few weeks. God has been keeping me in the small but important ways. 

My oil light had been flickering a little but I had chalked it up to a fuse issue that I've been having. Then the knocking noise started. It was at least a week or two before I put those two pieces together and checked my oil. It was BONE DRY! I knew from checking online the significant damage that could have been done to my car, even after only driving it a few miles like that, much less a few weeks. 

I am counting that as my own personal miracle. 

More importantly, it helps me to see all of the ways that God keeps me on a daily basis. It forces me to recognize that times that I was dead broke but never went hungry and managed to always have just enough gas in the car to get where I needed to be. It's the small concept of being kept safe from harm. 

But greatest of all, it's knowing that I did nothing to deserve it. It's all God's grace and mercy. I'm no better than anyone else. I didn't go to church more, or worship more or attend bible study more. It's just because He loves me. 

And sometimes that's a hard concept to wrap my head around. 

I'm grateful. Oh so grateful, for the little things. 

And I just thought I'd tell you about it. What little keeps are you grateful for? 

Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16 
 
In love, 
Mona
 

Living Single

Last night I had a nightmare. It was a dream inside of a dream. I was sleeping, dreaming, and woke up. I went downstairs and saw that my sliding glass door was open. I knew I had closed it. I heard a noise and went into the kitchen to get a knife. All of the knives were missing except for the long bread knife - rounded tip and serrated blade. I grabbed the knife and a man came around the kitchen corner. I started slashing at him with my knife and then took off running out the back door. I opened my back gate to escape and woke up. I was terrified. My heart was racing a mile a minute, my head pounding and my whole body was shaking. I started to pray, as I always do when I wake up from a bad dream. But it wasn't enough. I was painfully aware of how alone I was. With no one there to soothe me, rub my back and tell me that it was going to be alright. I was alone. 

After 21 years of marriage, raising two kids and having dogs, it's been quite an adjustment to be alone. It's difficult to sleep alone, wake up alone, leave the house alone, come home alone, eat alone, read alone and just be alone, day after day. Some times I don't mind it. I often like the solitude of being here, with the dogs at my feet. But on the whole I hate it. Even though I've been separated and divorced a total of 6 years, I still miss the idea of companionship. I miss the thought of having someone to hang out with and talk to. Not that I don't have great friends and family. I do. But it's not the same. 

After many hours I finally was able to go back to sleep but woke up with a raging headache. Couple that with an overwhelming feeling of alone-ness, I was useless to myself. I cried, missing what should have been. Missing what might never be again. Sad of the lost future of my life companion and my til death do us part. It's not HIM that I miss as much as the WE. It's the US I long for. Especially now that the kids are grown and gone. This was supposed to be the time for US, time to travel and gather up the moments lost to sea duty and military service. The time spent raising kids and taking care of a house and responsibilities. It's gone and I feel empty, sometimes. Especially after a fretful nightmare. 

I want companionship. I want someone to go the movies with, eat dinner with, spend time with, argue politics with, lament to state of Black America with. I was someone. But that doesn't seem to be on the horizon. And hasn't for a long time now. And I find myself having to come to grips with what that means. And I just don't know how. 

At bible study the other night, my mom said that we needed to let the Lord be our companion. So much easier said than done. Easier spoken than accepted. I love the Lord and yet I haven't found a way to make that relationship translate to my loneliness. I don't know how to transition that into a movie date, or walk around the park date. And that makes me sadder still. 

I don't think we were meant to be alone. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it since God says so right at the beginning "And the Lord God said, “It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him." Genesis 2:18. I know that also means that I need to wait for God to send me my helper. But I'm not gonna lie, I'm getting impatient. At times, I question my own value, my own beauty and my own attraction. I know. I know. All of those things are not found in the eyes of another person, but God. But you also know i keep it real on this blog. Really real. And that's sometimes how I feel. 

So I wait. "Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!" Psalm 27:14

But in the meantime, I could do with a date. 

In love, 

Mona