Where Could I Go?

I was accused by a beloved family member of having apathy toward her when she was angry at me and another family member. The truth is, however, that my aloofness was a defense mechanism. I do not wish to fight, no matter how one tries to bait me.

A man used to bait me to fight, over and over, for the sake of his ego. It nearly destroyed me.

I will not go back to taking the bait.

And so who can I talk to when things like this happen? I don’t want to trouble my friends and other family with the details, for they can only understand so much, though I do talk with them a bit about it.

In the end, but even in the beginning, the One who hears my woes is the One who already knows: my Lord, my Savior, my dearest Friend… Christ Jesus.

I say, “Thank you, God, for being my comfort in time of sorrow.”

These lyrics permeate my being while I sit in a rocking chair in front of the wood-fired cookstove, waiting for the oven to come up to temperature so I can put Pigs In Blankets in to bake before I drop exhausted into my own blankets.

“Where Could I Go But To The Lord”

Living below in this old sinful world
Hardly a comfort can afford
Striving alone to face temptation’s call
Where could I go but to the Lord

Where could I go, where could I go
Seeking a refuge for my soul
Needing a friend to help me in the end
Where could I go but to the Lord

Neighbours are fun I love them every one

We get along in sweet accord
But when I pass the chilling hand of death
Where could I go but to the Lord

Where could I go, where could I go
Seeking a refuge for my soul
Needing a friend to help me in the end
Where could I go but to the Lord

Life here is grand with friends I love so well
Comfort I get from God’s own Word
But when my soul needs manna from above
Where could I go but to the Lord

Where could I go, where could I go
Seeking a refuge for my soul
Needing a friend to help me in the end
Where could I go but to the Lord

Where could I go, where could I go
Seeking a refuge for my soul
Needing a friend to help me in the end
Where could I go but to the Lord
Where could I go but to the Lord

And the story on the song’s writing:

http://dianaleaghmatthews.com/where-could-i-go-but-to-the-lord/#.W6SCuuoTFGo

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Exhaustion

That feeling of wanting to tell people about the things that are troubling you because maybe someone who is reading it can relate and not feel so alone themselves, or maybe someone could offer hope, but holding back the details because the echo of “who cares?” rings on in a mocking tone…

Knowing that few to no people read my blog, I am relatively safe to go with my first feeling and do some venting.

My blog here on WordPress is not like the dreaded Facebook where any one of 560 people might suddenly decide to post a rude comment to make themselves feel superior and knock me down a little further.

Why do I have such volatile people on my friend list in the first place? Well, they don’t show that side at first. It’s not until they get to know me more that they see things about me that they dislike and they feel safe to blast me.

Wow, does that ever sound familiar. That was the case with the ex. He seemed so nice at first. And he sure saw a lot about me that he disliked. I did him a favour and removed my reprehensible self from his presence, but he took it as an offense and did all he could do to punish me for leaving.

Of course, that is far in the past, yet he and his new wife retain an interest in keeping tabs on me. They find out about things I write on my Facebook timeline when it is set so supposedly only “friends” can read it. I don’t write anything I wouldn’t want to be read by them, but it is strange that they get my news without being on my friend list.

Apparently, someone on my friend list is an informant.

I must be important!

Sometimes I don’t feel like being so visible, so I retreat to another Facebook account that contains a smaller number of friends, none affiliated with the ex and co.

They all might read this, too.

I don’t care.

On an unrelated note, today I drank too much coffee. I had three cups. Normally, I have one or zero cups. It is late in the evening. I want to sleep but am too caffeinated, so I am writing here.

And today was emotionally exhausting.

That is all I will say about that.

I wish some really nice person would read this and message me with an offer to come take me to a cabin in the wilderness for free, telling me the only catch is that I produce at least 200 pages of my book draft before they will return to bring me home.

The really nice person could give me a day to pack. I’d bring my laptop, my journals, a toothbrush, toothpaste, some clothes, and some food.

The really nice person would come pick me up, drive me to the cabin, and then drive back to my house to care for my kids while I am gone. They would be a patient and loving soul, able to coach my family on the importance of initiative in doing chores, explaining to them how much it has been killing me to be the manager and executor of far more than a mother should do, and that if they don’t lighten her load considerably, her next departure will be permanent, as her strength will have expired and death will claim her.

I am tired. Maybe my mind will slow down and I can sleep.

Tomorrow might be better. Or worse. Who knows?

(And yeah… Who cares?)

Question about auto-filled fields in WordPress

When I post a comment on someone’s blog and start to fill in my details on the lines below the comment box, after I put in my email address, it automatically populates my user name and a link for one of my blogs.  However, the blog link is for a different blog than the one I wish to use lately, but I can’t figure out how to change that auto-fill.  Does anyone reading this know how to fix this?