Sophia Sunshine Vilceus's Blog: In His Will, page 4
June 18, 2017
Self-Care Sundays
This morning, all I wanted to do was stay in bed. This usually happens when I am dealing with a bout of depression. But this time, I was not depressed at all. It was simple, I just wanted to stay in bed. And do nothing all day. Give my permission to have a full-on “Lazy Sunday.” I mean most Americans partake in this. So why is it so difficult for me? Well, because I always wrestle with tremendous guilt when I am not in church for a legitimate reason, i.e falling ill.
Truth is, I went out last night. Which I seldom do on a Saturday night, unfortunately. I danced the night away to a popular Haitian band and had an amazing time. But I didn’t get to bed till about 4 am. And that’s rough for this grandma-twenty-something-year-old over here.
So I rolled out of bed a little bit before 10 am to the bark of my pup. Briefly took him out, with my groggy eyes. Fed him. Made some breakfast. And decided to get back in bed with my food and coffee. Again, something I never do.
I streamed two church services online, while I was in and out of sleep. Did laundry. Again, while I was in and out of sleep. Watched some Lifetime, in and out of sleep. And it felt damn good. Around 4 pm, I realized I hadn’t had any food since breakfast, so I quickly showered. Put on some comfy sweats, got some Chipotle.
I had a plan this Sunday, which I often do. Go to Church, do the laundry, go running, do some yoga, clean up, meal prep...etc.. Half of which, simply did not get done.
After my Chipotle, I watched some more Lifetime in bed and around 8 pm, went for a breezy summer night run with my pup.
Upon my return, I showered and had some energy to get the house stuff done. I just finished straightening up the kitchen, beginning meal prepping for the week, and loading the dishwasher.
And it dawned on me that today was such an extraordinarly good day because I chose to put a lot of what I “needed to do” behind what “I wanted to do.” I think it’s so easy to get caught up in mundane responsibilities, that we forget to do the simple pleasures that we enjoy.
I am the type of person to start what I need to finish. And finish what I started. But today, after countless loads of laundry, I folded everything neatly and left it in the laundry basket. I didn’t let my faux OCD dictate to me that I NEEDED to put everything away.
Truth is, some days we are on fire. Killin’ the game at 100%. Other days...we are not. And you know what, I don’t think it’s selfish to practice a little self-care every now and again with the tiny choices we make throughout our day.
Some days self-care means getting a massage, pedicure and doing some yoga. Other days, it means staying in bed, streaming church online, and leaving the laundry in the damn basket.
Here’s to an amazing week...
Truth is, I went out last night. Which I seldom do on a Saturday night, unfortunately. I danced the night away to a popular Haitian band and had an amazing time. But I didn’t get to bed till about 4 am. And that’s rough for this grandma-twenty-something-year-old over here.
So I rolled out of bed a little bit before 10 am to the bark of my pup. Briefly took him out, with my groggy eyes. Fed him. Made some breakfast. And decided to get back in bed with my food and coffee. Again, something I never do.
I streamed two church services online, while I was in and out of sleep. Did laundry. Again, while I was in and out of sleep. Watched some Lifetime, in and out of sleep. And it felt damn good. Around 4 pm, I realized I hadn’t had any food since breakfast, so I quickly showered. Put on some comfy sweats, got some Chipotle.
I had a plan this Sunday, which I often do. Go to Church, do the laundry, go running, do some yoga, clean up, meal prep...etc.. Half of which, simply did not get done.
After my Chipotle, I watched some more Lifetime in bed and around 8 pm, went for a breezy summer night run with my pup.
Upon my return, I showered and had some energy to get the house stuff done. I just finished straightening up the kitchen, beginning meal prepping for the week, and loading the dishwasher.
And it dawned on me that today was such an extraordinarly good day because I chose to put a lot of what I “needed to do” behind what “I wanted to do.” I think it’s so easy to get caught up in mundane responsibilities, that we forget to do the simple pleasures that we enjoy.
I am the type of person to start what I need to finish. And finish what I started. But today, after countless loads of laundry, I folded everything neatly and left it in the laundry basket. I didn’t let my faux OCD dictate to me that I NEEDED to put everything away.
Truth is, some days we are on fire. Killin’ the game at 100%. Other days...we are not. And you know what, I don’t think it’s selfish to practice a little self-care every now and again with the tiny choices we make throughout our day.
Some days self-care means getting a massage, pedicure and doing some yoga. Other days, it means staying in bed, streaming church online, and leaving the laundry in the damn basket.
Here’s to an amazing week...
May 31, 2017
Woman to Woman
I got to spend some isolated woman-to-woman time with three of my aunts. I tend to see these aunts in passing and at nice but chaotic and busy family gatherings. This was the first time in a while where I got to just sit with these three incredible women alone and talk and simply bond.
Through our interactions I was just so amazed to realize that they are fully women and people. What I mean by this is that, often, I have seen my mother’s sisters as my aunts. Nothing more, nothing less. As I age and they entrust me more with more delicate details of their lives, I realize that they are actual people, women. Not just wives to my uncles, or mothers to my cousins, but amazing, brilliant, sensitive, hurting, loving, fragile women who need love, attention, and conversation as much as I do.
Spending time with three of my mother’s little sisters this weekend made me realize that I never got to see my mother the way that I now see my aunts: through a woman’s eyes. Because I lost my mother at 14, my image of her is still, in many regards, as a 14 year old sees her mother. She is literally my angel. The woman who could do no wrong. I didn’t get to grow up alongside my mother and see her for more than my mother. The childlike view and faith that I have about my mother keeps me madly in love with her and spiritually close to her.
But after time with my aunts, I began to think about some unconstructive things that my mother may have unintentionally taught me by her example. One of which is total, utter self-sacrifice. Whenever I go to New York, I come back home totally burned out, exhausted, fatigued, and ill. And it’s because sub-conciously, I think that I must put myself to the side, reject my real needs, in order to be there for everyone in my family and circle of friends. I have learned that from my mother. I know I have.
I am going to be challenging myself to think deeper at ways that maybe I have taken on some unhealthy practices and ideologies, not only from my late mother but from many other women in my life.
Here is to being well and even more self-aware.
Through our interactions I was just so amazed to realize that they are fully women and people. What I mean by this is that, often, I have seen my mother’s sisters as my aunts. Nothing more, nothing less. As I age and they entrust me more with more delicate details of their lives, I realize that they are actual people, women. Not just wives to my uncles, or mothers to my cousins, but amazing, brilliant, sensitive, hurting, loving, fragile women who need love, attention, and conversation as much as I do.
Spending time with three of my mother’s little sisters this weekend made me realize that I never got to see my mother the way that I now see my aunts: through a woman’s eyes. Because I lost my mother at 14, my image of her is still, in many regards, as a 14 year old sees her mother. She is literally my angel. The woman who could do no wrong. I didn’t get to grow up alongside my mother and see her for more than my mother. The childlike view and faith that I have about my mother keeps me madly in love with her and spiritually close to her.
But after time with my aunts, I began to think about some unconstructive things that my mother may have unintentionally taught me by her example. One of which is total, utter self-sacrifice. Whenever I go to New York, I come back home totally burned out, exhausted, fatigued, and ill. And it’s because sub-conciously, I think that I must put myself to the side, reject my real needs, in order to be there for everyone in my family and circle of friends. I have learned that from my mother. I know I have.
I am going to be challenging myself to think deeper at ways that maybe I have taken on some unhealthy practices and ideologies, not only from my late mother but from many other women in my life.
Here is to being well and even more self-aware.
Surviving The Pain of Momentary Affliction
For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)
I absolutely detest the gynecologist’s office. It brings me tremendous anxiety and angst, much like the Dentist Office does for most people.
No matter, how much scripture I read, gospel music I listen to, mental preparation I do, or breathing techniques I practice or the coffee I abstain from the morning of my appointment, my blood pressure always skyrockets before my annual wellness exam.
My gentle GYN and her staff are well acquainted with me, so they never are alarmed when my blood-pressure reads 165/95 like it did last week. They calmly ask, “are you nervous?” Every year, I respond: “Yes.” They smile and they try their best to put my nerves at ease.
My sweet GYN, often tries to make small talk to ease my rattled nerves. I often go see her around my birthday, which is always around the time that I take an annual trip. She knows, as she is prepping for my exam to ask me about my trip. This year I went to Mexico. So as she was beginning her exam, she said: “picture Mexico and breathe…”
For most women these exams are just uncomfortable. For me, they are uncomfortable and excruciating. I hate everything about the process. In my rational mind, I am aware that this exam is only but for a moment. But often times, I spend days and even weeks dreading this upcoming moment.
“Oww! That hurts! Why does it hurt?”, I asked through my shallow breathing. She calmly said: “because you tensed up. Relax and it won’t be painful.”
I felt God whispering the same sentiments to me, as I recently found myself in a financial bind. In my rational mind, I know I have been in this space before. I am familiar with it. I know it is only for a moment. I know that I will make it out unscathed.
I also know that obsessing over this moment, doesn’t change the outcome in any way. Tensing up and being stressed only exacerbates the condition of my circumstance.
When God is often doing His best work in me, like my GYN appointments, I detest the process. But I know the process is working out for my good. It’s literally ensuring my wellness. It’s protecting me from potential danger.
Dear Lord,
Everytime I find myself in a bind, let Your Word and Presence remind me that my struggle is only a light and momentary affliction (2 Corinth. 17-18) and that there is an ultimate purpose for the struggle.
God, forgive me for all the times I have tensed up, letting my feelings get bigger than my faith.
Lord, remind me to breathe through this uncomfortable moment. You have brought me out before, surely You will do it again.
Thank You for being God.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
I absolutely detest the gynecologist’s office. It brings me tremendous anxiety and angst, much like the Dentist Office does for most people.
No matter, how much scripture I read, gospel music I listen to, mental preparation I do, or breathing techniques I practice or the coffee I abstain from the morning of my appointment, my blood pressure always skyrockets before my annual wellness exam.
My gentle GYN and her staff are well acquainted with me, so they never are alarmed when my blood-pressure reads 165/95 like it did last week. They calmly ask, “are you nervous?” Every year, I respond: “Yes.” They smile and they try their best to put my nerves at ease.
My sweet GYN, often tries to make small talk to ease my rattled nerves. I often go see her around my birthday, which is always around the time that I take an annual trip. She knows, as she is prepping for my exam to ask me about my trip. This year I went to Mexico. So as she was beginning her exam, she said: “picture Mexico and breathe…”
For most women these exams are just uncomfortable. For me, they are uncomfortable and excruciating. I hate everything about the process. In my rational mind, I am aware that this exam is only but for a moment. But often times, I spend days and even weeks dreading this upcoming moment.
“Oww! That hurts! Why does it hurt?”, I asked through my shallow breathing. She calmly said: “because you tensed up. Relax and it won’t be painful.”
I felt God whispering the same sentiments to me, as I recently found myself in a financial bind. In my rational mind, I know I have been in this space before. I am familiar with it. I know it is only for a moment. I know that I will make it out unscathed.
I also know that obsessing over this moment, doesn’t change the outcome in any way. Tensing up and being stressed only exacerbates the condition of my circumstance.
When God is often doing His best work in me, like my GYN appointments, I detest the process. But I know the process is working out for my good. It’s literally ensuring my wellness. It’s protecting me from potential danger.
Dear Lord,
Everytime I find myself in a bind, let Your Word and Presence remind me that my struggle is only a light and momentary affliction (2 Corinth. 17-18) and that there is an ultimate purpose for the struggle.
God, forgive me for all the times I have tensed up, letting my feelings get bigger than my faith.
Lord, remind me to breathe through this uncomfortable moment. You have brought me out before, surely You will do it again.
Thank You for being God.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
May 19, 2017
Real Problems
Whenever I'm feeling particularly sorry for myself. Lonely, feeling isolated, blah blah blah, I drive myself to a local cafe in my town. It's cozy, its home-y, and the staff often makes me feel like family. So when I haven't had much interaction with people who know and/or love me, I drive to my happy place, my little cafe...
Yesterday morning on the drive, I was praying as I typically do in the car. And I began to do it. Feel sorry for myself. And I felt God nudge me to take my mind off of me and pray for those who wish they could be "burdened" with my "problems."
I began to pray for the Ill. For the depressed. For the mourning. For the unemployed. For international peace.
Then, I arrived to my "happy place." I was the only one there. The lady who always contributes to my happiness and takes my order, abruptly shared with me that she recently lost her mother and that she was facing possible eviction due to her mother's outstanding cremation expense. I could tell she was feeling desperate and felt the need to unload with me. A perfect stranger. She shared with me her Go Fund Me Page. And I shared my silent prayers with her.
The moment we take our minds off ourselves, we become available to see those hurting right in front of us. Please donate if you can, a little goes a long way.
https://www.gofundme.com/6wdf9-evicti...
Yesterday morning on the drive, I was praying as I typically do in the car. And I began to do it. Feel sorry for myself. And I felt God nudge me to take my mind off of me and pray for those who wish they could be "burdened" with my "problems."
I began to pray for the Ill. For the depressed. For the mourning. For the unemployed. For international peace.
Then, I arrived to my "happy place." I was the only one there. The lady who always contributes to my happiness and takes my order, abruptly shared with me that she recently lost her mother and that she was facing possible eviction due to her mother's outstanding cremation expense. I could tell she was feeling desperate and felt the need to unload with me. A perfect stranger. She shared with me her Go Fund Me Page. And I shared my silent prayers with her.
The moment we take our minds off ourselves, we become available to see those hurting right in front of us. Please donate if you can, a little goes a long way.
https://www.gofundme.com/6wdf9-evicti...
May 13, 2017
Chlorine Water
For the last several weeks, I have been mesmerized by a duck. No extraordinary duck. A typical, beautifully colored duck that I have probably seen countless times in my life, on other occasions. But what struck me about this particular duck is that it has been gliding in the pool water, behind my apartment complex. My pool has undergone recent renovations and it has been filled with water, to get ready for pool season. I would imagine this water to be filled with chlorine.
When I am walking my dog, Bizoux, or working out at the gym, that overlooks this pool, I have been so captured by this one, lone duck.
I mean, how did it get here? Who brought it here? This is clearly not its natural habitat. How is it surviving in chlorine water? And where does it go at night? (Because I never see it in the late evenings when I am walking my pup). What does it eat? How is it possibly surviving? Yes, I have been quite fascinated by this duck.
My life parallels this duck’s in so many fashions. In many ways, I feel like that duck in my pool. When people look at me, they probably think that I am thriving, just how that duck seems to be day in and day out. I mean, I have a warm home, a decent job, food to eat, and a heart filled with God. I know that in many regards, I am indeed thriving. And I’m grateful.
But there is another part of me, feels like this duck in chlorine water. Sometimes, I look around and I don’t even know how I am surviving. How did I get here? I am not absolutely sure where I belong, but I know it’s not here.
I struggle with isolation and tremendous loneliness. My career is fulfilling and my students love me and I love them, but that love cannot carry me through lonely weekend, after lonely weekend. On days off, I don’t know who I am, if not their “Professor.” There are no substantial relationships here that nurture me. I feel malnourished.
When I go “home” to NY, I feel out of place, out of balance. Toxic relationships threaten my peace. And unproductive ones make me feel even more alone. I don’t have a room, or a draw or closet to go back to. So I often feel like a visitor at home.
So, I have put a lot of consideration in building a new home closer to home. I gave myself a year’s time to plan the move. I prayed for God’s will to be done…. And I realized I really wanted my will to be done. Because if my will would be done, I would be closer to my loved ones, my family would be healed, my mother would be alive, mother's day would be full and not filled with a void, I’d be madly in love, married, and pregnant with my second child… that is my will.
But God has not released me to be all that yet. He hasn’t released me to go there yet.
So, for now, I feel like this duck in my pool water. Isolated, but alive. Gliding, but lonely. Happy to be here, but knowing that this place is foreign.
As I was walking Bizoux, I saw a sight that made me smile. The duck was on the grass….with about 2 other ducks...they were wandering about, together.
And that gave me hope. That though I am alone here...God can do anything here. Though I am out of my natural element, God can indeed create a substantial home for me. Love, partnership, my entourage can find me, even here.
Partnership is everything. Family is everything. This little duck reminded me to keep the faith and keep waddling on...
When I am walking my dog, Bizoux, or working out at the gym, that overlooks this pool, I have been so captured by this one, lone duck.
I mean, how did it get here? Who brought it here? This is clearly not its natural habitat. How is it surviving in chlorine water? And where does it go at night? (Because I never see it in the late evenings when I am walking my pup). What does it eat? How is it possibly surviving? Yes, I have been quite fascinated by this duck.
My life parallels this duck’s in so many fashions. In many ways, I feel like that duck in my pool. When people look at me, they probably think that I am thriving, just how that duck seems to be day in and day out. I mean, I have a warm home, a decent job, food to eat, and a heart filled with God. I know that in many regards, I am indeed thriving. And I’m grateful.
But there is another part of me, feels like this duck in chlorine water. Sometimes, I look around and I don’t even know how I am surviving. How did I get here? I am not absolutely sure where I belong, but I know it’s not here.
I struggle with isolation and tremendous loneliness. My career is fulfilling and my students love me and I love them, but that love cannot carry me through lonely weekend, after lonely weekend. On days off, I don’t know who I am, if not their “Professor.” There are no substantial relationships here that nurture me. I feel malnourished.
When I go “home” to NY, I feel out of place, out of balance. Toxic relationships threaten my peace. And unproductive ones make me feel even more alone. I don’t have a room, or a draw or closet to go back to. So I often feel like a visitor at home.
So, I have put a lot of consideration in building a new home closer to home. I gave myself a year’s time to plan the move. I prayed for God’s will to be done…. And I realized I really wanted my will to be done. Because if my will would be done, I would be closer to my loved ones, my family would be healed, my mother would be alive, mother's day would be full and not filled with a void, I’d be madly in love, married, and pregnant with my second child… that is my will.
But God has not released me to be all that yet. He hasn’t released me to go there yet.
So, for now, I feel like this duck in my pool water. Isolated, but alive. Gliding, but lonely. Happy to be here, but knowing that this place is foreign.
As I was walking Bizoux, I saw a sight that made me smile. The duck was on the grass….with about 2 other ducks...they were wandering about, together.
And that gave me hope. That though I am alone here...God can do anything here. Though I am out of my natural element, God can indeed create a substantial home for me. Love, partnership, my entourage can find me, even here.
Partnership is everything. Family is everything. This little duck reminded me to keep the faith and keep waddling on...
April 17, 2017
Prayer for Strained Relationships
I’ve been extremely reflective in regards to some recent relationships that have gone awry.
I have been unconstructively ruminating over offensive situations, to the point where I have had consecutive nights of vivid dreams about loved ones who I no longer share a healthy relationship with.
My sub-conscious has been speaking to me.
I’ve wondered, “why can’t I just get this person out of my head?” I’ve searched my heart to check if there was some residue of unforgiveness still left in me for these people. And I can truly say there is not.
So I continue to pray for my loved ones who I need to love from a distance. But I can truly say there has been an unsettling feeling that I’ve gotten because of that. And it dawned on me today why I have felt unsettled.
I realized that I have felt unsettled, not because I was harboring unforgiveness or because God was prompting me to reconcile, but simply because I have been rejected. Rejected by people who I have loved well, who I have prayed fervently for, who I have honored with my love. It is one thing to be rejected by an outsider, or a job; it is another thing to be rejected by family or people who vowed to love you as such.
God spoke to me about this rejection while I was doing a simple, mundane task– as He so often does. I was pruning my house plants. I went to get my scissors to chop off the dead parts of my plants. As I was pruning one particularly, large plant, the dead parts began to simply fall away at my touch. I did not even need my scissors. And God said to me, “only things that are dead can fall away so easily.”
That gave me tremendous peace. I realized that it wasn’t so much that I was mourning healthy ties that I desired to keep. I knew these relationships were fragile, unhealthy, and one-sided.
I was more so offended that people opted to fall away from me. God reminded me that relationships that are ordained by Him, that are healthy, and conducive to my Spiritual Walk, will not so easily wither and fall away.
If you are having trouble maneuvering through hurt feelings, I encourage you to lift up this prayer that is helping me:
Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank You for Your love. Thank You for teaching me how to love.
I thank You for all the good, healthy, loving people you have placed in my circle–both birth family, and chosen family.
Lord, help me pray for those who have not loved me well. Give me Your Peace, as I learn who I need to love at a distance to safeguard my heart and my well-being.
Help me get passed the offense and help me to love in spite of.
Give me the grace to forgive. The wisdom to know when to reconcile. And the willingness to find closure in the absence of an apology.
Thank You for reminding me that every person who does not love me well, only gives me a greater capacity to love others better.
In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.
I have been unconstructively ruminating over offensive situations, to the point where I have had consecutive nights of vivid dreams about loved ones who I no longer share a healthy relationship with.
My sub-conscious has been speaking to me.
I’ve wondered, “why can’t I just get this person out of my head?” I’ve searched my heart to check if there was some residue of unforgiveness still left in me for these people. And I can truly say there is not.
So I continue to pray for my loved ones who I need to love from a distance. But I can truly say there has been an unsettling feeling that I’ve gotten because of that. And it dawned on me today why I have felt unsettled.
I realized that I have felt unsettled, not because I was harboring unforgiveness or because God was prompting me to reconcile, but simply because I have been rejected. Rejected by people who I have loved well, who I have prayed fervently for, who I have honored with my love. It is one thing to be rejected by an outsider, or a job; it is another thing to be rejected by family or people who vowed to love you as such.
God spoke to me about this rejection while I was doing a simple, mundane task– as He so often does. I was pruning my house plants. I went to get my scissors to chop off the dead parts of my plants. As I was pruning one particularly, large plant, the dead parts began to simply fall away at my touch. I did not even need my scissors. And God said to me, “only things that are dead can fall away so easily.”
That gave me tremendous peace. I realized that it wasn’t so much that I was mourning healthy ties that I desired to keep. I knew these relationships were fragile, unhealthy, and one-sided.
I was more so offended that people opted to fall away from me. God reminded me that relationships that are ordained by Him, that are healthy, and conducive to my Spiritual Walk, will not so easily wither and fall away.
If you are having trouble maneuvering through hurt feelings, I encourage you to lift up this prayer that is helping me:
Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank You for Your love. Thank You for teaching me how to love.
I thank You for all the good, healthy, loving people you have placed in my circle–both birth family, and chosen family.
Lord, help me pray for those who have not loved me well. Give me Your Peace, as I learn who I need to love at a distance to safeguard my heart and my well-being.
Help me get passed the offense and help me to love in spite of.
Give me the grace to forgive. The wisdom to know when to reconcile. And the willingness to find closure in the absence of an apology.
Thank You for reminding me that every person who does not love me well, only gives me a greater capacity to love others better.
In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.
February 20, 2017
The Hope & The Dream...
Re-read Junot Díaz' "The Dreamer" in preparation to teach my college course today. A beautiful ode to his mother. My heart swelled with gratitude as I relived his work, much like it did when I was first introduced to him as a student at #CCNY. It made me remember my mother. Her sacrifices. The cancer that ravished her dreams, while she was back in school at Molly College simply trying to be better. To me, she was always at her best. She was so close to her degree. The cancer was terminal, but not her. Not her dreams. She read to me every night when I was young...
Now look at me. I am an English Professor. Teaching young people, many of them beautiful black and brown immigrants, and hoping to fill them the same way I've been filled. I am a Professional Writer. I am a Best-Selling Author. I say this humbly because it's the only way I know how. I say this because sometimes we just need to remind ourselves of who we are and what God has allowed us to see and do and be. People may try to undermine us, devalue us. But when you are rooted in who you are, those things cannot touch you.
Not only am I the hope and dream of the slave. I am the hope and dream of my late mother, Jacqueline. I am the continuation of God's promises and love to & for her. So in an effort to keep it together before I teach this class, I decided to write this out. May we always remember from whom we've come from. Thankful for that sweet reminder today.
Now look at me. I am an English Professor. Teaching young people, many of them beautiful black and brown immigrants, and hoping to fill them the same way I've been filled. I am a Professional Writer. I am a Best-Selling Author. I say this humbly because it's the only way I know how. I say this because sometimes we just need to remind ourselves of who we are and what God has allowed us to see and do and be. People may try to undermine us, devalue us. But when you are rooted in who you are, those things cannot touch you.
Not only am I the hope and dream of the slave. I am the hope and dream of my late mother, Jacqueline. I am the continuation of God's promises and love to & for her. So in an effort to keep it together before I teach this class, I decided to write this out. May we always remember from whom we've come from. Thankful for that sweet reminder today.
January 11, 2017
January 10, 2017
Praying for a Good, Godly Man
Always excited to share new work with you. More like new hopes and prayers. Be blessed. xo
Sophia Sunshine
http://theprayingwoman.com/praying-fo...
Sophia Sunshine
http://theprayingwoman.com/praying-fo...
December 30, 2016
I am the love..
I drove for miles, packed, prepared. Put money aside. Had expectations. Grand ones. I made it happen. Because I was in search for something. For many things, I suppose. Love, being the main one. I was in search for many of those un-tangible but necessary things. So I drove. I went.
I gave and I gave. Time. Affection. But I never was truly depleted. Because my love, no matter how raped it is. It is never depleted. Never empty. God taught me that.
And I left. Still not getting what I was in my quest for. I left. And it wasn't until the quiet of my space, my tea, my bath, my peace, my prayers, my candles consumed me that it dawned on me that what I went miles away for, was in me. It was already here. And I did not need to go searching for it.
So, perhaps my function is not to search for love or any of those un-tangible but necessary things. Perhaps my function ought to be, to be who I already am.
I am love. I am the love. I am enough. That is enough.
I gave and I gave. Time. Affection. But I never was truly depleted. Because my love, no matter how raped it is. It is never depleted. Never empty. God taught me that.
And I left. Still not getting what I was in my quest for. I left. And it wasn't until the quiet of my space, my tea, my bath, my peace, my prayers, my candles consumed me that it dawned on me that what I went miles away for, was in me. It was already here. And I did not need to go searching for it.
So, perhaps my function is not to search for love or any of those un-tangible but necessary things. Perhaps my function ought to be, to be who I already am.
I am love. I am the love. I am enough. That is enough.
