Sisters of Grace

There is a trend that everyone is saying that this year is the new 2016. This trend has social media users posting all their old memories. Some people are confused and think the trend is silly, while others of us think it’s a great! I think it’s a way to see growth, change and relive a moment in time. I mean it has been ten years, and I think that is significant, especially considering how much the world has changed since then! I think for some people they miss their youth, and for some of us life was just getting real. Think with me for a moment, what were you up to at that time?

Where can you see growth, and where do you still see a need for change? I sat with my journal this evening and just revisited those old memories. I tried to think like I was back then for a moment I was tricked into the idea that somehow my life was better then. I think that we all are longing for when things felt more slow, simple, and more certain. The world is in such an uproar right now. I only had one kid, in 2016, I met my husband in late 2016. He already had kids from a previous marriage, and now they have become my children. My days are filled with teaching, drinking coffee, cleaning, cooking, running a full household.

Today as I thought about this 2016 trend, I wrote a letter to that version of me. I find that in the beginning of the letter, I missed that part of me, somehow she felt stronger. Then I decided to remove that thought and replace it with these thoughts.

• The 27 year old me, would have not had the courage to start a blog, I was shy about sharing my writing with the world.
• The younger me was always looking at my flaws and wanting to change them, but the 37 year old me, looks for what she can accept. I recognize that I am flawed and unique and that is okay!
• She used to be afraid to loose things and people, now I release more and more. I take note when I start holding too tight.
• This version of me is so much more patient, empathetic, and wise.
• I have become the mother that I needed, I am way more dedicated now than I was before. Then I was just too immature. I hope my son sees how much I have grown.

It felt good to just write to my youngest self and give the encouragement that I am still on the way to my path. It just was not a straight path like I was desiring. I wanted it the easy way, and that doesn’t produce the pressure needed to produce change. I was able to tell myself not to worry so much. I hugged my five year old son and imagined me getting that hug at his age. I think I didn’t hug my mom enough, because I was afraid of her. I squeeze my little ones tight until their little bodies go limp with the warmth of love. They fight and wiggle and I hug tighter, they often think I don’t need a hug, but when it happens I feel their relief.

I will forever hope that I have made the younger me proud, and yet there is so much more to do! I imagine what the next ten years will be like. My children will be 26, 25, 24, 15, 12 man that is scary to think about but time will pass. The gray hairs, weight gain, scars, cellulite, wrinkles, all reminders of the minutes passing. I want to live well; I want to look back and see more than pain and disappointment. What will you do with the next decade? Who might you become?

We are constantly waiting for the right time, a time that we do not know if it will even exist! We must learn to continue to take risks and keep moving forward. My favorite MLK quote speaks to the importance of persevering.

The changes all around us can be daunting at times, but we too must persevere and see what is up ahead. What if the answer, shocks you and it’s even better than you could have imagined? The song that I am listening to says, “The day I showed up is the day, God showed up!” We have to go looking for the good that is left in this world. We have to learn to be that good thing too!

I wonder what MLK would think about how things are today? Did his purpose become a reality or is it worse than before? I think that is all about perspective. Was his death worth the price he paid? Did he die in vain? I believe that he created a spark that has remained ignited for decades and we still today see that dream. We now even dare to dream it for other nations of people too! Keep your dreams alive friend! Who knows the legacy that you will leave behind. The smallest and even insignificant changes, and disciplines lead to extraordinary places!

Today is another day in a history that is still being written, this post will soon be just a memory. One that I will be glad that I fought for my voice, that I kept showing up! For someone who tends to run away from things, I had to learn to wrestle with my emotions. To tame them into purpose. I had to keep coming back to this desk until I was able to calm down and write. I am fighting battles that many people wouldn’t even understand. And dear friend, I know you are too, that’s the beauty of life. We all are dealing with something and still show up for the things that matter.

My own anger has been a silencer for my true voice, and when I sit with the emotion and let it fuel me it becomes magic! I produce something tangible that I can use as the motivation for my tomorrow! I find it really hard to write when I feel that anger, and sometimes that’s what I need to do that most! I need to release it and take what I can learn from it. Lately, I have been hearing my inner voice, louder than usual. It’s a curious phenomenon, but maybe I am just simply ready to listen. Maybe I finally am beginning to trust her wisdom. I have dealt with a lot of abuse and one of the things it does first is take your confidence. It makes you feel like you cannot trust your intuition.

God gave us our intuition it’s a gift, and sometimes it can hurt. We must separate the pain with the realization that it’s a way to protect us from ourselves. Our bodies were created with such great attention to details that we must learn to embrace all that we are. We are divine beings, just a little lower than angels! God, give me the courage to keep listening! I feel a deep transition in my life right now and I must admit I am afraid. I have to make so many choices, and I want to make the ones that serve my greater good. Sometimes it can be hard to do that because things can seem right at the time but later, we learn it wasn’t.

Maybe that is part of the journey too, just to take our paths with the best intentions and not stress it. To keep our focused attention on what we truly desire to accomplish, and keep going. I may wander off the road at times, but that is how my instincts are sharpened through experience. I love to sit and think like this, what is the meaning of life? I will always seek answers to the unknown. I hope that you too are willing to keep showing up and see what the day brings. Get your work done, for when it is night, no man can work!

All rights reserved. Sending you peace, love, and warmth!

SHILOHROSE77©️

I kept your a secrets so long

Now I don’t know how to articulate the pain

I bottled it until it became a wound

Even when it oozed and bled and still I hid

I tried to run from the truth and it found me

You inflicted pain on my soul

I didn’t ask to be here

The creators of my origin the perpetrators

Of my violent beginnings

Your anger was not mine but I absorbed it all

Why do you refuse to see

The hell you created for me, I hope it burns you too

All rights reserved. ShilohRose77©️

A poem…

This pain been here so long 

I had to speak because my voice will not be silenced

I deserve to be here

No mater what you did to kill me

I rose from that grave thought you buried me

Hell I thought I lost too

Then I opened my eyes another day

I saw your face the shame 

I got a front row seat to watch you squirm

You thought I was dead and gone

I’m back and now I will conquer you 

The victory is staged

Not my idea, I just wanted to win

God gave me the game

He broke my heart to correct my vision

Did I mention he taught me to forgive

To see with eyes of compassion

You hated me and I showed mercy

I walked away in peace

No matter how bad I wanted war

I remained composed 

I turned my anger into passion 

For a life that I could be proud of 

All the while you waited for me to get my lick back

You was shocked when I did not retaliate

I put you on God’s plate

I let him handle my lightweight

All rights reserved. ShilohRose77©️

According to various studies, there are about 40% of people in the United States, who believe in ghosts, spirits, and the paranormal. Half of this number is represented by those who have had personal experiences. What is your stance? Do you believe in spooks? Who is it behind these experiences, could it be our dead relatives, ancestors, angels, demons, etc.? I want to share one of my experiences. I cannot say what exactly it was, but it definitely changed my thoughts on the whole matter.

This was not the first time I had experienced things supernaturally. I was more aware of it at this point. I think sometimes when it happens most people rule it off as their imagination. I find this particularly true if the person experiences the phenomenon alone. At this time I was not the only one that experienced it so I knew it happened!

In the summer of 2010, I took a trip with a couple of friends to meet a guy in Maryland, and we fell in love. A couple of months prior to the trip, we had begun our friendship by talking on the phone. He decided that he wanted to move to my home state and we all would be roommates at our friend’s house. This was incredibly stupid, but we were so young! The move went well; it was my first time away living from home. I was 21 years old, and he was 19.

There were two other people that were staying pretty regularly at the upstairs apartment and decided to move out, right before Michael and I moved in. Our roommates were my best friend and his best friend, who was also from Maryland, and they also were dating. (Ahhh young love). We were to take the upstairs apartment which I was happy with because it was the spacious and nice.

At the time, I worked nights so I would be gone a lot. I remember Michael being kind of on edge at night, and he told me he was freaked out. I asked him why, he said he didn’t know but it was just creepy. We laughed it off, just like anyone would and just went on with life. It was fun we would party, hang out, go out, and all just be together all the time as a group. I can’t remembered which occurrence happened first, but it was pretty quickly after moving in. The house was on a corner lot, and there was an old church across the street. I don’t even think the church was in use anymore.

One Sunday I remember we were relaxing in bed with the door shut. As we were talking, the door slowly opens, and I lean over and look to see no one there. I assumed it was my friend’s baby because she would have been so short and maybe I didn’t see her. However, later I mentioned it to my friend and she said no, she didn’t go upstairs. It still creeps me out the things that happened! A few days later, Michael asks me if I have seen his “Jesus Piece” necklace anywhere. I told him that I hadn’t seen it but I knew that he always kept it on the on of the four posters on the bed. We looked all around it was gone. We actually never found it even after we moved out.

By this time, I am starting to tell my friends about these strange things bit, by bit. My friend tells me that the other roommates that moved out said things happened to them too. The house still had furniture in it that the landlord let us use and it was this old tv. Well the guy DJ, said he was upstairs watching tv in the living room and that the channel kept changing. He would have to manually get up and fix it because it was so old there was no remote. Each time, just as he would sit down it would happen again, his girlfriend was there too. They decided to ask his cousin, whom was my best friend if it was haunted. However, she didn’t believe him.

When she told me their story, I knew it was real because I wasn’t even around when their experiences happened. As I said, I worked nights so I would get home when it would be still dark, I remember pulling into the car port and seeing the front door wide open. I thought that was strange because we never leave doors open when we go to bed. I felt a very ominous feeling as I entered the house, I went straight to my bedroom in the back. I climbed in bed and woke up my boyfriend. I ask him about the door, he says he shut and LOCKED it before bed! Now I was freaked! Our roommates used their own private entrance.

Once again, I tell my friends and they are just as nervous as I am, but they just haven’t experienced much yet. I am beginning to wish I hadn’t moved, in because I am really not sleeping. I was staying up late, working all night, and barely able to rest in the daytime. The stress is kicking in and my immature boyfriend is not making it better. He was playing in this recliner chair that could lift off of the ground by using the remote. I was in the bathroom across from the living room doing my hair and makeup getting ready for work that evening. We were arguing about something, and as we began to get in a heated discussion the door to the living room slams shut. I didn’t see it but felt the wind of it and obviously the loud bang.

I was looking in the mirror, but I just glanced out of the corner of my eyes immediately. I ask Michael why he would slam the door in my face and he’s still in the same spot. The recliner, we both heard the door, but we are alone in the apartment. The recliner was still off the ground when I peeked my head in the room. Most people, if they had slammed a door, you would know it and they wouldn’t lie about it, because it’s quite common. I would understand because we were arguing pretty heatedly. However, he was just as confused as me.

A few weeks pass and we all are starting to get over this house and all the weird things. We decide that we are going to stop paying bills here and save money for another apartment. We went as far as not paying the electric bill, because we wanted to be cheap. So in our minds we can just use candles for light and it’s fall time so we can handle the cold. We stopped buying groceries, and just would eat snacks or fast food. We stayed in the house like this for a week or two. We got the eviction notice and everything. However, we are riding it out as long as we can.

One night, we have all the candles lit upstairs in the kitchen, and my back bedroom. We are all gathered in the kitchen talking and we are sharing the experiences with each other again, because the previous friends who stayed there are visiting. They tell us another story about the recliner. DJ tells us that he was hanging out and he kept hearing the massage chair on but no one was in the chair. He decides that maybe it’s broken and he is going to unplug it, well guess what! It was already unplugged!!!!

As we are joking and talking about everything, we see an intense bright light in my bedroom. It was as if the lights had turned on by themselves, but remember, we had no electricity! I glance back and immediately get the goosebumps. I ask if they saw what I saw, and everyone agrees that those four or five tea-light candles cannot produce that much light. We are so screwed! I can remember trying to be so brave, but truly not understanding these things. How is this possible?

Oh how I love scary movies, yet this was REAL LIFE! I wasn’t alone, imagining these things. My friend then tells me that she had heard whispers close to her ear when she was in the bathroom. This thing is doing more and more. One day I am about to head to the downstairs apartment, when I sense a presence following me out of my bedroom. It was almost as if I could feel a light air on my neck. I had goosebumps, I was walking hurriedly and trying to reason with myself. I tell myself in my mind that I wish this thing would try and hurt me and that I am not afraid! Well just then I felt a push on the stairs and I almost go crashing into the wall below. I was too afraid to even look behind me.

A question that I ask, Did we cause these manifestations, was it always there? Who was it? What was it trying to communicate? I really don’t know, the only thing the landlord told us was an elderly man had died there. The chair belonged to that old man. The last straw was one day, I was home alone with my best friend and her two kids, and we were sitting in her kitchen in the downstairs apartment. We started to hear loud footsteps upstairs, and thought the kids must have went up but upon checking the door at the top of stairs was latched! We tried to ignore it but it kept getting louder, to the point that we grab the kids and go running outside. We remained there until our boyfriends got home. Thank God, we finally got a new place and left that house!

The whole ordeal only lasted, maybe a couple of months but it was very scary! I felt so relieved when we got our new place! I still think about this often. I wonder why it happened to us. I think sometimes maybe it was a warning to us all to live better! We all were wild, reckless, and headed into a lot of grief. My life got really hard the next year. My relationship with Michael was a train wreck, the only blessing was our son. He is my world, I love being his mom, and I am glad I left his father in 2012.

Have you ever experienced anything like this? Or any other supernatural event? I would love to hear about it! Happy Reading!

All rights reserved. ShilohRose77©️

Can a stranger speak words that only you understand?

Must your heart posses one great love?

I’ve fallen in love many times.

The secret language of infatuation, still lingering on my lips. 

Like words never spoken in a silent war.

Love, though costly I still dare to believe. 

Love beyond temporal must be savored, until the alarm goes off.

Awakening to reality, dreaming of perfection. 

All rights reserved. ShilohRose77©️

BACK LIKE I NEVER LEFT

The fact that as a writer you can put down the pen anytime, take a break and then randomly pick it up and flow effortlessly. That’s the beautiful thing about writing. I really love to write and the way it makes me feel. Then on the alternative there are days when I cannot seem to form more than a few sentences. It’s quite frustrating at times. What do you think is the cure for writer’s block? I’d say sometimes it’s just to simply stop caring so much about what others think. There are many critics, hell I am my own critic. I must learn to keep my voice alive, and not be persuaded by rejection.

The world now, has us trained to live like show monkeys; always performing. We live for likes, and the comments! I can tell you now, those are fleeting and do not define your abilities. If a post that I write does not reach a certain amount of people, does it make it less great? No! I believe that when I write from my heart, and out of pure inspiration; its gold. I don’t write as some chore. That in its own rite is a masterpiece. This is not arrogance, but understanding that we do not just write for others alone! We write because when we neglect to do it we feel a disruption. A disturbance of our peace, the urge to share, and communicate.

Some of my writings are actually not polished and as purposeful because as fast as inspiration comes, it also leaves quickly. It’s like a secret you are dying to tell your best friend or perhaps your journal! As of this moment, I am inspired by the beautiful sounds emitting from my computer speakers. It’s 1940s jazz melodies and a peaceful background accompanies these soothing tunes. I feel in sync with the artist, as if my typewriter’s producing some of these addicting melodies. Music has a way of really getting into my soul, lifting my thoughts. The clacking of keys pairs well with this aesthetic, it’s like that first sip of a good wine.

As someone who actually prefers to write with pen and paper, I bought this typewriter because of the deep satisfaction when you hear the keys being pressed. This typewriter is so beautiful, it’s the best thing that I have bought myself in a long time. I still remember the young girl who got a typewriter at ten years old. She would sit at her desk and write stories and dream of a life she could be proud of, and that girl is me. I wish I had gotten to keep my typewriter but out of spite, my daddy threw it away! He threw away all of my things, my journals, stories, and anything that represented me, because I left his house. I wanted to live with my mother and be with my little sister. That is a trauma for an other day. I still love my father, I know he was hurting too.

The feel of pen and paper are still my favorite, but this healed a part of me; getting another typewriter. It reminded me of a girl that always dreamed of getting a secretary job, writing stories and maybe publish a book. This moment remind me that my dreams are still alive, even though I pursue them differently than how I expected. My family knows that reading, writing, and books are me through and through. It feels good to be known for something. Writing brings people together, even if they don’t agree always on the topics.

As I think about last year, I realize that the more I pushed myself to make time for what I love, the more time that I seemed to have. Is that weird? It just felt like I was a more aware, confident, more content, version of myself. Yesterday, I sat and played Barbie’s with my daughter, I haven’t done that in some time. I find that fairytale play seems to have dwindled long ago. Yet that is where the magic is the imagination of a child. To connect with anyone is to first connect with your inner child. It brought back the fond memories of my sister and I playing like that together.

The healing process of grieving my sister, who is very much alive but chooses to distance herself from everyone. I could see it in my mind, us on the floor surrounded by all the Barbie accessories. I could practically taste the breakfast that our mom would often bring us, on those days. Oh how I miss my mom and sister, and it hurts so much the pain that has destroyed our relationships. This is something I cannot articulate in person, every time I try, I’am consumed with grief and cannot finish. The feeling of finality, but no closure is unbearable. Thus another reason that I write about it.

The art of writing, gives me courage to say what my heart feels. To love unashamedly, and without regret. To live with passion, in a cold world. I write to inspire a spark of humanly love and compassion that has strayed from the hearts of many. Bring back love letters, and postcards! Oh what a time to be alive!

My challenge to my fellow bloggers, NEVER stop writing, creating, sharing your stories, wisdom, and talents. Happy Reading!

All rights reserved. ShilohRose77©️

Today was a hard day, but I knew that I had to keep going no matter what. There have been many moments in my life that I wanted to give up, I thought that I wasn’t strong enough to handle my burdens. That’s the exact reason why I continue to get up and move forward. The steps may be small, shaky, staggering, unsure, afraid, BUT they are steps!

The beauty surrounding me could not extinguish the grief inside of me. There are some things that are just so hard to even express, the weight is heavy. So much that I want to say, but I am waiting for a better time to share my story. I’m not sure that the words will come out right. I know that I cannot hide from this forever. I know there is someone that maybe I can help. But part of me likes my privacy. As a survivor of great abuse, I struggle to open up about it.

I don’t want anyone’s pity, and I definitely do not want to monetize on my pain. It’s not for someone’s enjoyment. If I share it, I want it to be a beacon of hope, and a place of comfort. I have no desire to let the world make me out to be a spectacle. My greatest achievement will not be surviving but winning! I refuse to let abusers get glory from my pain. Life has not played fair with me. I must be one of God’s soldiers, because the moment I got here it was chaos.

The frozen ice, and snow capped hills were so full of mystery and beauty. How did I get to this point I ask myself? When did I think that I could out run my ghosts? I have tried to believe me. The light and darkness always at war. I just want to heal and grow. I have put in so many hours of reflection, meditation, journaling, breathing, exercising, praying, running, hiding, etc. Whatever it was I tried it to make the pain stop. I tried to heal what was broken. God, can you hear me? Is this thing on?

That’s the problem with grief, it just keeps coming back! One minute you think that you have your footing, and then it’s a song, a smell, a tone. Right back at the beginning, tell me that I have made it farther than this, it’s been so many years! Please tell me that all the work I put in is not in vain! I cannot be defeated by and this will not be how my story ends! It will end in victory!

Last man standing, alone or in a crowd. I do not care, I have earned the best version, and best life for me! I paid in my blood, sweat and tears. My savior is Jesus, but I am my hero too! I fought for this and I will continue to fight! I am a veteran of war. The casualties that lay at my feet, a most deserving fate. Don’t let them triumph over me. I feel like King David, he couldn’t understand his pain either.

The sun peeked over the hills, and I felt the tears well in my eyes. I wanted to weep, but never show weakness in front of an enemy. So I blinked them away. I learned that through the years. Your true opponents like to see you hurt, it feeds their ego. They will not prosper. A wise man once said, “Home is anywhere that you know all of your friends and all your enemies.” -Orson Scott Card

Another once said, “Sometimes it’s best to let your opponent think he has control.” -Jayne Ann Krentz

Ultimately the story that unfolds throughout our life, has many twists and turns. I expect that many of them, come at a shock. Things change, people change, everything changes! We really must learn not to fear it, change because it’s useful! Change, makes you bold and fierce. When we are willing to look hell in the eyes and say, “Bring it on!” I do not fear the darkness, hell I’ve been face to face with it!

The red little seeds on these branches, drew me in with the beautiful contrast. The frozen, cold, and snowy woods and on these bare branches the berries in bloom. The stages of trees and vegetation are truly amazing, maybe I too am in a stage of healing. The kind that everything looks, bare and cold, and desolate. The red backdrop on the white snow, like my sins on the cross. I have been acquitted, therefore I must walk free. Pick me back up oh Lord. I need to believe again. I want to believe that what you are doing is worth the pain.

Redemption for the weary soul, the sun felt so good. Although I couldn’t feel the cold, my body was warm with contempt. This vicious anger that I possess scares me. I seek justice, is that wrong? I feel like Jonah, I want to see them get what they deserve! Maybe someone has the same wish for me, hope not. Truly peace is better than war and strife! And yet life if full of it, one conflict to another. The fight with oneself the hardest.

There ferocious desire to prove the world wrong, has always been deep within me. For a shy, woman what a fiery well lies inside. Passion runs throughout my veins. A quiet strength, and a fight to win. Thank you God for giving me passion, and not allowing me to live dead inside! I don’t regret the emotions that drive me, it’s the person that I truly am. I despise the veils that I have to wear. However, not everyone can handle the depth of your flame.

Today, the weather was almost pleasant as the bitter cold, has been hard for me. The sun was inviting and warm. Consume me oh light, and lead me to what is right. Afraid I march forward. In the snow tracks, I forged a path. I decided to walk, even if I had to go alone. Nothing is promised. If you are ready to start, do it today. No matter what they think, and don’t worry you are worth it. Walk. Run. Crawl. Do it Afraid.

All rights reserved. ShilohRose77©️

All photos are mine.