Look at that! Wrapped around the bird feeder like a slithering devious snake I’d like to cut off his bushy tail and strangle him with it! Just when I think I figured out a way to keep the squirrels off They figure out a way to latch back on Bella does a good job chasing them away However, I have a better idea But killing animals isn’t in my blood I could let my neighbor do it He loves killing pesky critters But my conscience would keep me awake at night My brain would never shut up about it And my heart would shrivel up and die So I took the feeder down But the birds weren’t happy So I hung it back up Now the squirrels and the birds are happy Wonderful! Everybody’s happy but me! But come tomorrow Or the day after tomorrow Or a thousand days after tomorrow My tiny human brain will out-smart them I pinky promise I cross my heart and hope to die On my mother’s grave I will find the perfect solution To out-smart every last one of them Just you wait and see!
I cried for you the other night First time since you left this world Not that I didn’t love you But that I thought you didn’t love me Then I look at this picture and I see the love in your face But I needed to feel it in my heart Did you know I wanted to be a daddy’s girl To cry in your strong arms To hear your love songs in my ear Did you know how my heart ached To know you To talk to you To understand your silence Did the war kill your soul Were you suffering in silence I wanted to know I needed to know But I never will Because you’re gone And I can’t hear you now Your silence bore a hole in my soul It twisted and confused my mind It made me bitter and angry At you At myself At the world My heart became a festering boil Of anger and rage Striking out against the world Screaming for love and understanding Only to receive the double-edged sword Of fear Isolation And rejection Over and over again I wanted to hate you But my heart wouldn’t let me I wanted to forget you But your footsteps echo in my brain I’m letting you go daddy I no longer need to know and understand I no longer need your love and support I found what I need in the ones who love me Talk to me Embrace me Comfort me And that’s enough I will always love you daddy But it’s time for my heart To set each other free ~Sandi
He lives in my brain Such a trickster is he Causing chaos and confusion And frustration for me But he doesn’t care Not one little bit And continues his mischief With no plans to quit I awake from my slumber With grand plans for the day To declutter my house And put everything away I pick up a box filled with trinkets galore And begin to plunder In search for more So consumed in my frenzy The hours slipped away And the house is more cluttered Then it was yesterday And the beat goes on From one day to the next Till one day for sure I’m gonna break that trickster’s neck ~Sandi
2 Timothy 3:1-4 There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasures rather than lovers of God . . .
Biden is at the top of my list. Call me crazy, but I once believed that the government was for the good of the people; honest, God-fearing, fair-minded, compassionate, just. Silly me. I’ve never been more ashamed of a president than I am of Joe Biden, who, in just a few short years, has turned our country upside down. How can any of us, who believe in doing what’s right, support an administration that is doing so wrong? None of us are perfect; we all make mistakes. But when we keep making the same mistakes over and over again, they’re no longer mistakes; they’re habits of pure evil. I’m not speaking against a particular political party; I am speaking against the injustice I see operating within a government that has gone wrong. A government that has become lovers of themselves, rather than lovers of God and the people they have promised to serve.
If you could unzip my skin, you would see my wounds. But, unless you’ve walked a mile in my shoes, you will never know how much it hurts.
Sandi Staton
I have episodes when I feel that everyone I love has died. The feeling is so overwhelmingly dark and painful, that I just want to curl up and die. Sharing those feelings with my medical doctor a few years ago is when he diagnosed me with BPD (borderline personality disorder). I had never heard of it before, so I went online to see what it was, and discovered that he was right. And, for the first time in my life, I had a better understanding of my anxieties, fears and phobias, and noise intolerance. Why rejection feels like my heart is in a wood chipper. Why depression never goes to sleep. No matter how hard I try not to go there, I get sucked into the maddening cycle of ups and downs, of feeling okay for a few days, sometimes weeks, then falling back down to the pit of hell, and clawing my way back out again. It’s murderous! A never-ending torment of feeling good and then bad, and then like a demon from hell. I’ve been like this all my life. Social gatherings are sometimes so painful that I avoid them. It’s true, my home life was as dysfunctional as the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s. But through my own blood, sweat, and tears, I am crawling towards recovery. I dove into the murky river of lies and deceit in search of the truth, and a more functional way of life. It took guts. It tore my world apart. It opened my eyes to the brutal, emotional abuse that I endured. And there, in the deepest parts of my battered soul, I saw God. No judgement. No finger pointing. No demented glaring eyes. But, rather, I saw arms open wide, eyes filled with tears, and a smile bigger than the universe. And sobbing in His embracing arms of steel, I felt the depths of His warm and tender love.
I still struggle. I’m still learning and growing. I still take three steps forward and two steps backward. But I will never give up! I know God didn’t create me this way. God doesn’t maim, He heals. God doesn’t hate, He loves. God doesn’t laugh when I fall, He cries and picks me up. He brushes off the dirt of the world, takes hold of my feeble hand, and walks beside me every wavering step of the way.
Isaiah 48:17NIV This is what the Lord says . . . your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: “I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.”
Sugar runs through my veins. Not blood. SUGAR! I’m a sugar junkie. Malted Milk Balls? I never eat just one. I eat the whole box in one setting. Milk Duds? Caramel Chews? M&M’s? Gummy Bears? Please, stop! Give me a truckload. No, a dump truck load, and I’ll scream for more. If I were a hoarder, my house would be bursting at the seams with candy! Am I diabetic? Nope! I’m just an insane, full-blown addict!
And, since Christmas, I’ve added hot chocolate to the list. Covered with marshmallows. So yummy. Then I ran into a problem. A big problem. I got hooked on the marshmallows! My brain wouldn’t shut up about it. Every time I started doing something, I’d hear, “Sandi. Come and eat us,” till I ended up eating two whole bags full.
I only wish my body liked candy as much as my taste buds do. But, it doesn’t. It suddenly got too big for its britches. Between the bloat and neuropathy, my feet and legs swelled like road kill on the verge of bursting open. I complained. I moaned and groaned. My poor body was suffering, and my brain didn’t care.
I had to make a decision: keep up the insanity, or straighten up. I chose to straighten up. Since this is not my first rodeo, I knew what I had to do. DETOX!
I dislike water as much as I love candy. And intermittent fasting is almost as bad. But, because I’m an all or nothing freak, I do better at eating nothing than going on a stupid, calorie-restricted diet that never works for me. Fasting is a beautiful word compared to the evil, diet word.
Oh, and one other thing. I started walking. Since I quit jogging after seventeen years (another stupid thing I did), I’ve gained weight and lost a ton of muscle strength till it’s difficult walking up just a few steps. And I fall. A lot. And I’m old. Real old (77). But, that’s okay. I can’t fix that, but I can fix what I do with it from here on out. I must admit, though, that since my legs refuse to support me at times, I feared falling in the middle of the road and getting run over if I started a walking program. My son, an insane hiker, marathon runner, and body builder, told me about trekking poles that athletes are using today. I bought a set, tried them out, and fell in love with them. It took me a few walks before I got the hang of it, but I won’t walk without them. Ever!
The moral of my story is this: If you value your body, no matter what your age, take care of it. It’s the only one you have, and it ain’t gettin’ younger! Trust me!
Straight From the Heart 