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The miracles



How do you say it?  The r word?  I walked into a house to go to the bathroom.  I was 5.  I fear there will never be security even in anonymity.  I live in a small town with 'eyes' and 'mouths" and hateful gossip...I wish I could get past it.  I prefer to wait on the Lord to correct it.  They've already tried to kill me.  Twice.

I really want to blog this, I can't.  I will say this.  It was a miracle that kept me and my parents alive that night.

No one wants to take responsibility for their actions so I'm blamed.  I'm persecuted in wide open places.

Call 'her' scarlet and let the peds remain.

Makes me sick.


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I emailed my daughter tonight.  I wrote a letter.  Simple.  With love from me.  A lost art.  I sat here contemplating an enemy and I further contemplated forgiveness.  It nearly washed over me but not completely.  It'll come though and I think it'll be soon.  Then I hope to see change in both me and them.  God bless! -POM

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Change is in me, not what I see of them.  I attended my grandson's birthday party.  I knew a few people there...not so many by name, but by face.  Inlaws of my son.   My reputation is mud.  I don' t know why.  If it were said, I've sinned.  It's true.  If it were said I knew better...at times that, too, was true.  I have fought my way out of the pit.  I corrected my behavior...after a horrific rape..after a PTSD chain of events...only to be loathed.  Well, if I swore, which I'd almost want to it'd be harsh.  Deep breath.  In.  Out.  Ok.  So I am choosing to forgive.  I've been told forgiveness is not a feeling...yet if I don't feel it, it isn't truly forgiven for me.  It lingers and I lose.  If I forgive behind the scenes, does that work?   Not really.  Because I wonder at the next time I see 'you'.  At the party, I didn't even try to interact.  What's the point?

My grandchildren came running to me for hugs.  Nothing greater on earth!

An hour of watching them...interact and play and open gifts and eat cake...I left.

It's better alone with them and that isn't going to happen.

I love children, always have.  I missed raising mine for the most part, because I was struggling with the PTSD I'm told doesn't exist because, as I'm to be aware of, nothing ever happened.

Amazing, isn't it?  Now the anger is spiking again...along with resentment.  Oh, blessed be.  Hugs if you have any....Hugs if you need Love -POM

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