Militant

Good grief, fifteen replies and only two people who read what I wrote.  Ain't the Internet wonderful.

I am learning about self will power.  I have been very muddled about this attribute.  Mainly muddled because I believed I did not possess it.  Or at least I did not possess it as a positive force.  I believed I was willful.  As in, "I will do what I want to do when I want to do it."  That drive I have in spades.  I thought of will power as a gift of God given to Saints and thin women.  Obviously I was not gifted.  I have changed my mind, for good.

I have free will.  I can do what I want when I want to to it.  I have choice.  I can choose for good or bad.  But...I have to do battle to choose for good.  Doing bad is hardly choice at all.  I have to fight for positive outcome will power.  Most of my skirmishes are with me.  I am truly at odds with myself.  The enemy within?  Not necessarily.  Does one war upon a youngster?  No, it just feels like it.  Try saying no to a teenager who wants something you the adult deem harmful.  Gad it is all out frontal assault, if it is not sniper fire or sabotage.  I have not been willing to suffer battle fatigue so as to outgun my unruly childish/sinful self.  No more.  I can't win if I do not fight.

Why was I never willing to engage the enemy?  Because I thought I'd lose.  Train a child to be a victim and unless Grace intervenes you will always have a loser.  Even if the person she is losing to is herself. 

Grace has intervened for me.  I am doing battle.  New learning, I am not alone in my fight.  If I am willing to set out sword raised, God comes to my aid.  Grace, I get Grace.  Who knew?  Not me.  I have never been willing to arrive at the battle line let alone contemplate engaging in the fight.  Guess where I found my weapon of choice .  In my mouth.  "NO," is a sharp two edged sword. 

This morning was tough for me.  A family member is ill and I am bearing the brunt of the problem.  It was snowing.  The cat threw up in the unmade bed.  We have a prowler.  You know, life.  The way I cope with life is to overeat.  But, I vowed to God to give up sugar for Lent and my learning.  I stood in front of the frigde contemplating its frugal contents.  (It's Lent)  Could I binge on apples?  I was going in for the kill applewise when my still small voice said, "no."  In the blink of an eye I thought, "you are not going to be able to fight this urge,"  and the phone rang.  A friend said, "Stop what you are doing I'm coming over."  I stopped.  Grace. 

I am finally willing to fight for myself by fighting with myself.  Go figure. 

Take care.  Love Bea

Self Gratification

Lent is coming.  I am so relieved.

I will get to give up television for a month and a half.  I willl experience much during this time, and I will have no t.v. to clutter up what I am experiencing. It is like waking up from a long drugged sleep when I quit watching television.  I notice for the first time in months what is going on around me.  I get the house cleaned, the bills organized and paid and friends called or emailed.  I plan and shop for our meals.  I exercise.  I read after supper and go to bed early.  I suddenly have room in my life to live. 

That stupid black box sucks up me and gives nothing back.  I do realize that my television is like a gun, it is the user who is the problem.  I avoid real life by watching fake life.  I substitute passive reception for active learning.  I am not the first one to recognize the connection between tube viewing and eating.  I take in and get or give nothing back.  It is all about me.  Self gratification with diminishing returns.  Except my weight that does not diminish.

I am fine.  I am snowed under.  A foot of snow fell this week.  Oh well, this too shall melt. 

I will be writing more...often.

love bea

Not Dead

Just down for the count.  Some health problems v-e-r-y slow to resolve.  I am moving at a snail's pace back into the main stream of life. 

Winter has arrived.  I'm glad.  I want to be holed up for a while yet.  Dogs, cats and husband are fine.   Will write more when I have something to say. 

Take care.  Love Bea

All's Well

I am so over summer.  I want to get back to our winter routine.  Or any routine.  I don't do well with no schedule.  This hot summer has been hectic and fast.  I am ready to slow down and act instead of just reacting.  I kind of envy the students. 

Labor Day is upon us and by darn by October first our gallivanting is going to be over.  Bring on the snow.

Love Bea

I will rue that last statement.

Depression

I think I am depressed.  Not as a character flaw but as a diagnosis. Semantics make all the difference.  

I have down days.  I mean days when I am unable to get up, either emotionally or physically.  I fight these days tooth and nail.  My main weapon is self abuse.  I call myself a lazy slug, slob, ungrateful wretch, and pointless to name a few.  Is self abuse an effective weapon?  Hardly.  So why do I use it?  Because depression is a character flaw and I have to kill it.  It is part and parcel of my old sinful nature and it is my Christian duty to squash this evidence of original sin like a bug.  Somewhere I got the notion castigation could kill sin and SHOULD be used as the first weapon of choice.

Where do I come up with this stuff?  I think I was taught it.  I think it may be modified Calvinism but I am not sure.  Anyhoo, it is majorly unhelpful and I am trying to rid myself of it.  In comes Catholicism.  Catholics believe our created bodies are Good, parts of the Body of Christ.  So...if my depression is part of my body (inherited like my blond hair) then it and its manifestations (down days) are not evil, and I am not evil for having them.  I have an inherited condition for which I am obligated to seek treatment to keep this Good body and mind in health.  I do not need to war against my depression but seek care for it.  I begin by not being surprised by my down days and fighting against them.  I treat them.  If you are physically sick you take medicine and/or take to your bed.  If I am depressed I need to love my body/mind and minister to it.  Ministering does not mean all the sugar I can eat.  That would be more self abuse.  Ministering does not mean isolation.  Again more self abuse.  Ministering means, what...?  This I am still trying to work out.  Any suggestions would be welcomed.

Thanks, Love Bea.

Rain

It is raining.  Has been a month since we have seen any precip.  All the housewives in our little hamlet are outside drinking it in.  The big Wyoming fire is just over the hill (read mountain range) from us.  We get the smoke daily.  I am not complaining, my sister-in-law is getting ash.   The rain will help with the fire containment. 

We had a quiet fourth because of the fireworks ban.  The dogs loved it.  Me too.  I usually have to sedate Mollie.  Jonah Tucker turns out to be afraid of the pops also.  Nothing like spending a season with shaking, drooling dogs.  Fireworks are legal here and our neighbor kids set them off all summer.  I hope the fire ban lasts for a while. 

I am rereading St. Augustine's "Confessions."  I had to read it in college but did not remember most of it.  This morning I read about his struggle with gluttony.  I cried the whole while I was reading it.  It describes my own struggle to a tee.  Made me feel worlds better.  If a saint battled with his outsize appetite I guess I can battle also.  He said he had to use food "medicinally."  This is where I need to be.  Presently I use food for joy.  He also reminded me satan tempted the starving Christ with bread.  Not meat, green veg, beans, fruit, unprocessed grain, but baked bread.  Food for thought, no pun intended.  Not a big surprise I am also tempted by bread ( read cake, cookies, donuts, quick breads, bagels, gravy, and anything else with cooked flour in it.)  As I was sitting there thinking about temptation and not eating bread this thought sprang into my head, "I am the Bread of Life."  And, as now I am finally able to partake of The Real Presence, I don't have to give up Bread after all. 

This whole deal just gets better and better.  Love Bea

I'm HAPPY

Life is good. Summer hit with a vengeance.  I have been running around like a headless chicken.  We are snow bound for eightish months so when warm weather finally arrives we all go at it like fools.  I have planted so much stuff it takes me an solid hour every morning to water it.  I also had to replant a bunch of stuff.  As our soil is mostly rocks, planting and replanting requires a pickax and a serious investment of time and energy.  I think I am about done with putting plants in the ground.  When the tulips die back a bit more I will plant geraniums to replace them and then I will be finished.  Yeah.

I am well and truly Confirmed.  Was a tremendous experience.  I did not know Father Flo was going to pour half a bottle of oil over my head.  Mighty messy but sure smelled good.  I can now take communion with the rest of the community.  Let me just say it is a way different experience than I have ever known.  It is dandy, just dandy.  As a new Catholic I was able to participate in the dedication of our new church.  Wow.  Catholics sure do things up in a big way.  Service was two and a half hours long.  Then we ate.  I felt like I had moved in.  I feel like I have come home.  

My counseling goes well.  Much to be said for Christian (Catholic) Counseling. Also I am losing again finally.  Only five pounds but is a start.  I feel invigorated in all aspects of my life.  Okay have to go and mow the darn lawn.  I am looking into tapping into more blogs at "Grace Place."  We'll see. 

Take care any who are still reading.  Love Bea