Sometimes you read something that absolutely explodes in your heart, mind and soul - today, this was it for me!
“I am at the point in my life that I do not expect too much from people anymore.
If you want to get out of my life, I will not stop you.
If unfriending me makes you happy, go ahead.
If the efforts I make do not get reciprocated, that’s fine.
If you can’t equate my love for you, I will respect that.
If you do not like me, I can accept that.
It takes maturity to reach this point.
It takes self-love to be on this level.
It is just that it is too tiring to please people.
It is so messed up to beg for people to be a part of your life.
It is pointless to force someone to be on the same page with you.
I am at the point in my life where if you stay, you’re mine, and if you are not, then I let go.
It is too tiring to keep on forcing things to happen.
It is too painful to see your efforts getting unnoticed.
It is not worth it to beg for someone just to let them see how much you love them.
It is not worth chasing people because you deserve better.
It is too unnecessary to force friendships.
It is too tiring to make reconciliation for people who do not deserve it.
Do not regret anything, especially if you made efforts to make it work in the past.
Focus on your life.
Focus on people who love you.
After all, that is the only thing constant in this world.”
I do not know the author of these words, but they are the wisdom to my life, and the echo of my heart.
I wonder if Sundays will continue to the be the hardest day of the week?
I know that the memories play their part too well on these days.
Remembering the Sundays of my past.
When at home with Daddy and Momma, these were the days of church and Sunday dinners, afternoons with the brothers and sisters gathered round. Often other family members, friends, or neighbors, would drop by for a glass of sweet tea or lemonade and a bit of porch sitting and tall-tale telling.
When with Rick for those almost 35 years, these were the days of church, then Sunday dinner with parents or grandparents, often a porch sitting time with them. Sometimes it meant a long motorcycle ride with Rick, or a back road country drive with the kids.
As life changed, and these Sundays became more just Rick and me, we would use these days to simply rest and be lazy - together. Wrapped up in one another on the couch while sleepily watching a movie. Maybe tangled up in the sheets taking a nap. Sometimes huddled near the fireplace on a cold winter's Sunday. But always together.
Since Rick has been gone, Sundays have been a struggle.
When spent with the kids and grandkids, they are always better - because the laughter and the love. Even when we have been working, or at a rodeo, a playday, or just taking that back road lazy drive.
When spent with other family and friends, they are better then too. Lazy talking. Slow walking thru the day.
When working, they are bearable. Even though these days make my heart heart for the elderly. Because they, too, remember those busy days of yester-years gone. And they ache for companionship, for conversation, to get out and go ... and yet, they sit alone, or almost alone. Sunday after Sunday.
When there is a Sunday where I am alone, more often these days than not - well, it's a struggle to just breathe sometimes.
My memories are too fresh.
My emotions are too raw.
The past doesn't seem that far away.
Seems so close that I can still hear the laughter, still smell the dinners, still feel the plates in my hands under the hot soapy water.
I can feel the sway of the porch swing, or the squeak of the rocker.
I have found that taking a long Sunday nap does help ... in a way.
But then, waking up alone doesn't.
I watch a movie, and whether I enjoy it or not ... there is no one to discuss it with.
Social media doesn't help ... not on Sundays.
Sundays have become a day to be endured.
A day to focus on breathing in and breathing out.
A day to let the tears fall freely.
To feel the ache of emptiness and loneliness.
To sit with my memories and speak out loud to them - sometimes to come closer, and sometimes ... well, just go away and leave me be!
I have been told to "just turn it over to the Lord", to "draw near to Him", to spend my day worshipping Him.
Course, this is told to me by those who have spouses, or families and friends, around them.
I have spent my whole Sunday with my Bible open, reading it, praying for myself as well as for others, listening to (and singing along with) praise & worship music.
It's still being alone.
God is a Spirit.
God is altogether wonderful.
God is amazing.
God is God.
A widow misses skin.
I started reading the book of Lamentations today, and I was quickly reminded that God gets it. He understands the emptiness and the loneliness of my heart, mind and life. No matter how I try to fill the hours ... I am still alone ... and lonesome. Especially on Sundays.
Days to be endured.
Days to breathe.
Days that end blessedly on Monday.
So why "Scattered Feathers" ? ? ?
You can read it here