I have a funky way of writing things I see years before I understand what it is I’m looking at. Life has a funky way of fermenting my raw material over time through process into some potent spirits. Gunna duck my head low and sign off the blogging. The first is again the last.
Hello, and welcome to the very first installment of Cage-Free Christian!
If you’ve followed me over from The Gospel of Snark, a double welcome and thank you! That anyone reads anything I blog barf is astounding to me. I originally began blogging strictly as personal therapy, having been plunged into an emotional/spiritual undoing that stripped 40+ years worth of everything I thought I knew down to a bare foundation.
In many ways the GOS was a documentary of the death of me…and it wasn’t pretty or sanitized or safe. I let you see it all. Raw vulnerability is a piercing sword that divides and disrupts. My story was simultaneously the stench of fear and doom to some and a sweet aroma of life and freedom for others.
Just like my parable-preaching Jesus, I luvs me some word picture metaphor. The metaphor theme for Cage-Free Christian comes from a…
View original post 899 more words
Three years ago this week my heart was in Israel. I never got it back. This was the exact point of divergence as a family, each to our own respective paths toward death. Armageddon had begun.
As my oldest two children have been off rockin’ their first years of college out in Nashville, I’ve talked to them more regularly (and intimately) and have literally seen more of what goes on in their lives than when we were all under the same roof thanks to texting, Snapchat, Instagram and video chat. We even have our own private family Facebook group on which they occasionally post to humor…
View original post 1,490 more words
When I read your FB text last night, I instantly related.
You are so consumed with your own pain that it makes me feel like I’m not your [relationship descriptor redacted].
Get on some meds you psycho bitch!!
No I am not [wonderful] but I think I am kind, and you were kind to me so I hope you will find peace and happiness in the future.
No time and in no way is it appropriate to be rude, unkind, cutting, demeaning, speaking out of rage and anger, and belittling others. I have seen you do each of these things with a measure of generosity. I have watched you shred those who even mildly suggest that you’re out of line.
Hi JD, I just wanted to say “Me Too”. My emotions are too raw to say anything beyond that, but ME TOO sister.
You need to get off Facebook and…
View original post 620 more words
Perspective is everything. I’ll let Kierkegaard have the last words as I have no more to give here regarding the life that never was. I’ve given it all, and I am no longer a fool.
“There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.”
— Søren Kierkegaard
It might sound a little bragish, but I think our marriage is exceptionally great. There isn’t a single couple I’ve ever envied and thought, “Gosh, I wish our relationship was like theirs.” Not that I haven’t been miserable and desperate for change in my own at times, but I have always considered the one I have worth fighting and even dying for.
We’re also more than a little ridiculous together and we’ve accumulated a whole lot of NOT EASY in our 25 years of being hitched, but this is precisely what makes us so great together. We’ve managed to navigate some insanely treacherous territory as the perfectly dysfunctional hot mess we are. As I write this, we are bracing ourselves for yet another trip through the wringer, this one likely to stretch us beyond recognition into something quite different.
Painful as that sounds (and is), it’s more or less been our normal…
View original post 2,299 more words
I am writing my own different (and redemptive) end to the same old fucked up story.
All full of himself and stiff
gait wobbly, bopping up and down
walk waggly, blipping circley side-side
aggressive lean forward looking
for something to pierce, to rip
pent up all day inside the clothes of decency
but out now, unleashed now from the world of men
and striding like Colossus thru the realm
of women and children and all that rage
and self loathing his ticket to intoxication…
just looking for a reason, a place
to vent…and vent that place, tear it
to shreds and bloody ruination plunging
his vicious teeth deep into soft innocent
flesh not yet on the planet 5 years.
He wore his privilege like porcupine quills.
And then his tongue, bullwhip cracking
his pig eyes squinty and squealy and sweaty
and his anger was only surpassed
by his sanctimonious self righteousness
and utter unawareness of anything but himself.
And I? Constrained by bonds of love and…
View original post 82 more words
The best explanation of this personality disorder I’ve found. Reposting for all the Me Toos…and that would be every American as we approach final collapse of the Narcissist in Chief. Hang on, Peeps. These things do not go quietly or without a brutal fight. There will be casualties before he and his minions ultimately slink away into the shadows with a pathetic pout and wimper.
Dear Codependent Partner,
What I’m about to say is not something I’d ever say or admit (to you), because to do so would end the winner-takes-all-game that is my main source of pleasure in life — one that effectively keeps you carrying my load in our relationship.
And that’s the whole point.
When I say “I love you” I mean that I love how hard you work to make me feel like your everything, that I am the focus of your life, that you want me to be happy, and that I’ll never be expected to do the same.
I love the power I have to take advantage of your kindness and intentions to be nice, and the pleasure I derive when I make myself feel huge…
View original post 1,809 more words
Whew. Almost two years out from this. I was SO sick and in more danger than I could afford to acknowledge. Swimming free and deep waaaaaaaay out in the wilds these days as I was always meant to. There is no going back. There is no nostalgia or longing for any of it. Only relief.
I’m a severely introverted and reserved person. These days, in person, I’m unlikely to impress you. I don’t emote much. Whatever I’m feeling (and I feel the full spectrum of emotion with deep intensity) this is probably all you’re going to get.
This is my excited face
My randomly selected combination of genes allows me the luxury of attaining the label of “attractive” female from others if I put just a bit of effort into my outward appearance. Truth is, I’m much more comfortable downplaying any outward attractiveness to the point I’ll even deliberately sabotage it when I feel the real me – my passion – my soul – who I really am, think and feel is being dismissed because it’s just too much for someone else to handle – which is most of my life, most of the time, and all my relationships at some point or another.
Exhibit A: Flaunting the…
View original post 442 more words
I made my bed, and I sleep like a baby
With no regrets, and I don’t mind saying
It’s a sad, sad story
When a mother will teach her daughter
That she ought to hate a perfect stranger
And how in the world
Can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they’d write me a letter
Saying that I better
Shut up and sing
Or my life will be over? – Dixie Chicks
Once upon a time, we were offered 6 figures to climb the corporate church ladder and be entertainers in an even bigger and better church than we were already in. We turned it down. It’s quite a story from there.
The short of it, the second we stopped singing at the church we’d remained loyal to in order to minister with integrity, they broke every promise they’d given of support, disowned and ghosted us…
View original post 167 more words
Two years ago this day. The death blow came from the back and it was inflicted by my husband. The kids and I were always (and continue to be) the sacrifice the Bros of God are willing to make to save and advance themselves. Lil added bonus content if you open the original post and scroll down to the end in the comment section for anyone who gives a crap. The kids and I no longer do. As for me and my house, it is Spring.
Winter is coming. Those damn Starks have been telling us so forever, but we grew tired of hearing it and dismissed them as crying wolf (insert GOT fan groan).
But winter is coming, and it’s coming for me, so I might as well go out with all the drama and flare of a butchered Jon Snow…bleeding out, lying motionless, fading to black.
In my physical world, it is autumn, which in central California means this morning was the first time my kids and I broke out a light sweater to walk to school with a predicted high temp of 79…may the gods, old and new, sustain us.
Autumn, however muted in this part of the country, still retains an element of anticipation and haunting beauty as a prelude to death; a transitional season leading us out of one extreme and into another. There’s a whisper in the (ever so slightly chilled) air…
View original post 973 more words