Winter Season

What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?

I enjoy writing. Winter Season is the most recent story I have been working on. At the end of this post, I will include links to my last post and the first one for this work. Thanks for stopping by and reading.

Winter Season

Honor Thy Parents

“I do. If I may, how’s the Bible study coming?”

“I don’t have the heart.”

“I found something if you would like to read it.”

He asked, “read it to me?”

“I found this on a blog by a lady calling herself Chico’s mom. I’ve read all of her work up to this point. Looks like she’s had a tumultuous relationship with her family.

‘Honor thy parents

Being a Christian isn’t easy. Trying to find that right balance of honoring God with your life but at the same time not pushing others away from being curious about God or Christianity is delicate. I have no desire to tell you your life is a mess when mine is a different mess. I would like to share with you some of my struggles. Maybe you are going through the same thing.

A friend of mine is going to seminary. I have learned so much through him. I am so grateful that he is sharing his knowledge about the Bible.

The piece below I wrote because this is a real struggle in my life. It’s very therapeutic for me to research and write about issues. Most I have zero control over. But I write anyway.

Honor thy parents

The 10 commandments:

‘Exodus 20:12 honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God give thee.’

I honestly struggle with this. How? How do you honor a parent that let bad things happen to you? How!

Some children had a Norman Rockwell childhood. This makes me happy for you. Somehow, I feel like you are in the minority. If I read the chart correctly, chfs.ky.gov had over 550,000 reported cases of child mistreatment in 2020.

One answer I got was, “Respect that you exist because of them. God doesn’t make mistakes.” How! How do you respect a person?

Let God deal with it? Sure. This is the best way. Because we are human, Satan will use this to guilt us. Prod us. And make us think we are bad because honor takes on many different forms. Many children honor their parents by taking on the same career path. Others show honor with material possessions: a new house, a new car. Or maybe they show honor by naming a child after a parent.

What about children that were victims of child abuse? How do they honor their parents in the eyes of God that represents the spirit of this commandment?’

“I’m only human. I did the best I could.” Well your best sucked!

You are toxic. You are hurtful.

So what to do?

1. Forgive them. (Ephesians 4:32) I could have started off with an easy one. Forgiveness is hard. It we are forgiving ourselves or others. Forgiveness does not excuse bad behavior, nor does it permit future bad behavior.

2. Be grateful. You might ask, grateful for what? You are alive. Pewresearch.com estimates 930,160 abortions were preformed in 2020 nationwide (US). You may not be setting the world on fire. Life might be a great struggle. You are here.

3. Share Grace. (Titus 3:7) More hard work. But look what Jesus did for me and you. If we accept him as our Lord and savior, he died on a cross for me and you.

4. Love them: (Matthew 5:43-48) No one is saying invite them to your house for Christmas dinner. Or loan them a million dollars. Love comes in many forms.

5. Pray for them. Prayer is our direct line of communication with God. Pray for your ‘bad’ parents. Pray for yourself as well. Ask God to show you the right way to be at peace with a craptastic childhood.

6. If you are a parent, don’t say bad things about your parents in front of your children. They might think this is the way they should talk about you. (Proverbs 22:6)

As Christian children we have to do all the work. But that’s okay. All of the listed above are actions to be taken. Work to be done. These are steps children should take so that they can be healthy physically, mentally and emotionally.

Can’t do it alone. No you can’t. God, friends, preachers, trusted family, therapist, are in this world to help children move in a positive direction. Closer to God. Closer to healing.

*pewresearch.com

*Real Faith by Mark Driscoll

*The Bible

*Chfs.ky.gov

*Ask Pastor John: How can I honor my parents if I don’t respect them?”

He sat in silence for a while. Esther added, “she’s never been diagnosed but she feels like she has Cinderella Effect.”

“What’s Cinderella Effect?”

Esther closed her laptop. “From what I can tell, it’s where one child is treated differently from the other children. Kinda like Cinderella in relation to her step sisters.”

He looked confused, “ I’m not a stepchild.”

“From what I can tell, she isn’t either.”

Oscar remained silent.

*Last post:

Winter Season

Introduction:

Winter Season
Honor thy parents

Not an attraction: a different answer-

Name an attraction or town close to home that you still haven’t got around to visiting.

I’ve noticed quite a few folks don’t answer the prompt given but go their own way.

If you will indulge me, I’d like to go my own way on this one.

Forgiveness in progress

I’m going with a different answer for today’s prompt; continuing a series I’m calling forgiveness in progress: FORGIVE.

FORGIVE

Forget
Offense
Resentful
Grieve
Influence
Value
Error

Forget: so difficult when there is a daily reminder.

Offense: two many to count.

Resentful: if you don’t know that there is resentfulness, let me say it YES!

Grieve: everyday.

Influence: should have been a positive one.

Value: it’s in there somewhere. Still looking.

Error: on both sides.

Colossians 3:13 – “Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

Working on it.
Forgiveness in progress: a haiku

Winter Season

Vinegar

Esther was sitting on the couch when her phone chimed alerting her to an incoming text message. It was Oscar. ‘Just found out we are havin’ a meeting tonight. Have no idea what time I will be home. These things usually only last an hour though. No one wants to be here too long. Will call on my way home. I love you, O’

She sent him a heart in response.

She had made a pot of soup for dinner, so him being late wasn’t a problem. All she had to do was put the cornbread in the oven.  It was 3:45 when she got the text; it was 8:00 when he called her.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi,” his voice was weak.

“You sound killed. Do you want to even fool with dinner?”

“Let’s not and say we did.”

“Okay. Do you need this time to unwind?”

“No, I would like for you to help keep me alert.”

“What shall we talk about?”

“What am I going to do with five cases of vinegar?” His voice was deflated.

“Where on Earth did you get five cases of vinegar?”

“Someone donated them to the school and the family resource director thought it would be a good idea to give them to me.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“Do you have enough to give each student a bottle?”

“No.”

“That would start a fight if you gave some and not all.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

“What about a class project and make vinegar the bases?”

“That could work.” She thought his voice lighten a little.

“Do you do science fairs?”

“The school does but I have very little to do with them. If I have a student ask me for help, I am more than willin’. But no, I’m not doing that again.”

“What happened?”

He let out a long sigh, “for the first five years that I taught, we had fairs. I was gong ho and organized them. The last year that I did it, everyone of the students got a first prize ribbon in something: most creative project, best lay out, best idea, most challenging, every student walked away from that fair with a ribbon of some kind. I think it undermines the whole experience if everyone gets a ribbon. And I was banned by the school board for giving an overall first place or best overall ribbon.”

“Wow! Education has changed a lot since I was in school.”

“I’m so tired Ess.”

“What can I do to help?”

She could hear him smile, “just keep being your wonderful self.”

“Honey, when you get home, go to bed. Take a nap. Rest for a while.”

“I’m in the drive.”

“What would you like to do?”

“I’m coming to you.” She opened the door and watched him walk across the street. He walked like a man defeated. When she closed the door behind him, he hugged her up. “You feel so good.”

“I’m so sorry you had a taxin’ day.” After a long hug, he let her go. She caressed his face. “Why don’t you lay down and take a nap? Dinner can wait.”

He kissed her on the forehead and crashed.

While he napped, she looked up things he could do with five cases of vinegar. After half an hour, she went to check on him. He was sound asleep. She smiled to herself. He looked so peaceful. The stress of the day didn’t show on his face. She took an extra blanket from the closet and covered him up. As if she hadn’t already figured it out; she was in love. She could get used to the idea of curling up to him every night. A smiled crept across her face but she couldn’t give in to the idea. There was still a cloud of doom hanging over her head. It wouldn’t have taken much for her to let her head fill with assumptions but she blocked them out.

She was sitting on the end of the couch looking up stuff he might be able to use for his class when she felt him kiss her on the head.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised.

“Yeah, why not?”

He set beside of her, “what have you found?”

“These are just ideas, you’re not gonna hurt my feelings if these don’t work okay. You know more about what you’re allowed to do than I.”

He smiled, “you got it.”

“Give me some parameters.”  

“It will be easier just to tell me what you’re thinkin’.”

She shrugged, “okay. What if each student researched and came up with a project using vinegar as their main ingredient? Have them do the project in front of the class and logged the outcomes. How well did it work? How much did it cost? Was it fun? What were some of the challenges you had? What did you learn?”

Oscar sat there for a moment thinking, “I like it but I think it would be too time consuming. That would be more of a semester long project. Something I could do a mid-term or a final over.”

She was shocked, “mid-terms and finals?”

“Getting them ready for college.”

There was a sour look on her face, “they will get enough of that in college.”

“Amen!”

“Well, you could break them up into groups. However, I don’t like the idea of breakin’ the class up into groups. I hated workin’ in groups when I was in school. Inevitably, one person ended up doin’ all the work.”

“I agree but administration eats that up. It is getting them ready for the work place.” He scoffed.

She raised an eyebrow, “indeed. And again, one person ends up doin’ all the work. If you want to keep a controlled environment, what about this project?” On her lap top, she had found the following project: How to inflate a balloon using baking soda and vinegar. Each student would need a balloon, small clean clear glass bottle, small funnel, baking soda, and vinegar. There was a list of key questions for the students to be looking for as they conducted the experiment and instructions on how to do it.

“I really like that. It will deviate from my lesson plan and I will have to get it approved but I really like that.”

“Cool.” Esther wiggled in her seat. “I think it would be great fun to try it.”

He raised an eyebrow, “really?” She smiled shaking her head. He put his arm around her and kissed her. “You are amazing.”

“Well, you know.” She giggled.

“Tomorrow when I get home, let’s try it and see what happens.”

“Yeah,” she beamed with a smile.

“I think I owe that little kid an apology.”

“What little kid?”

“The resource director had one of the students bring that to me and I wasn’t the friendliest person in the world.”

She rubbed his arm, “I know you’ll do the right thing.”

“You have a lot of faith in me don’t you?”

Winter Season

Winter Season

Please be advised ADULT LANGUAGE!

Why?

“Let’s face it, I’m crazy about you and you’re crazy about me. This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off. And if you don’t know that I love you by now, let me tell you again.” She held his face in her hands, “Oscar Patterson, I love you.”

With what seemed like one fluid move from him, she was straddling his lap again. He kissed her with that wild, desperate kiss that made all her nerves like live wires. When he came up for air he said, “I have loved you since that night you helped me grade papers.” He rubbed his hand up her back under her shirt. “Stay with me tonight.”

“I’m assuming we are not talking about the guest bed?”

“I want to hold you like I held you the night you had a bad dream.”

“Do you think that wise?”

“I just want to be near you.”

“What will happen if we do?”

“That is between us and God. Or at least it should be but you know if anyone finds out my mother will delight in the Whore of Babylon bit.” He held her tightly for a long time. “Oh.” His hands were still under her shirt. “That.” He hissed as if he’d answered his own question.

“O,” She got up so she could meet him eye to eye. “I think it’s best if we put on the brakes. There will be all kinds of time for me to do the school girl routine, and believe you me, I will.”

“I can’t wait.” He kissed her. “You know that song, I want to kiss you all over?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to lick you all over.”

She giggled. “Oh indeed. But then, would I still get the extra credit.”

“All you need.” He ran his hands up her back again. This time he didn’t stop at her bra. He went under the material. His middle finger on his right hand touched a rough piece of flesh. As he moved his hand toward her side so he could feel what it was, he noticed she wasn’t breathing. “Ess, what is that?”

“I can’t tell you right now.” She looked as if she was going to cry.  

“But you will someday.”

“Yeah,” she choked, “someday.”

He pulled his knees up, gently guiding her against them. With a delicate touch, he traced the top of her bra that was exposed. Traced it with such care, as if it was a faberge egg.

She just watched him. If there was something bothering him, she wished he’d tell her. Back and forth with deliberate slowness, he caressed the material.

“Is purple your favorite color?”

Somehow she knew that wasn’t where his mind was. “Yes.” Her response was low.

When he spoke, his voice cracked. “Why do you love me?” He was no longer tracing the top of her bra. The expression on his face reminded her of a child seeing Santa for the first time. Curious, scared, excited, lost.

What kind of question was this? She couldn’t let him see the utter shock she felt.

He was watching her, waiting.

She took a deep breath, “You love me for who I am. You let me be myself. That is the best feeling in the world. You are kind. Nothing I do goes unnoticed. You knew what size to buy my Christmas present without asking.” Big tears streamed down his face. She carefully wiped them away. He was breaking her heart.

He focused his gaze back to her bra. “If my own mother doesn’t love me, how can you?”

She continued caressing his face. “I can’t speak for your mother. You are the kindest. Most caring, gentle, sweetest, smartest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am excited; even with that big blob of shit hanging over my head.” He smiled though still crying. “I’m excited that you are in my life.”

He pulled her to him, burying his face in her cleavage, sobbing. When she draped her arms around his shoulder so she could hold his head and put her fingers in his hair, it seemed he cried that much harder.

It broke her heart.

Winter Season

Who knew?

Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

According to https://www.thebump.com/b/jolene-baby-name:

Jolene (Jo-leen)

Popularity: 967

Origin: Hebrew

Other Origin(s): German

Meaning: God is gracious

Though Germanic and Hebrew in origin, Jolene is a feminine name that comes courtesy of the United States. A blend of Jo and the suffix “-lene,” Jolene came to beguile the world through Dolly Parton’s acclaimed country hit. Synonymous with a powerful seductress, all emerald eyes and fiery hair, it’s no wonder Jolene has endured as a title for incomparable beauty. Its roots link it to the German and Hebrew Johannes, meaning “God is gracious.” Here’s to baby proving they are far more than a pretty face.

My pen name: Chico’s mom, comes from Chico.

I didn’t name him he was Chico when he came to live with me. Chico (Spanish pronunciation: [ˈtʃiko]) means small, boy or child in the Spanish language.

The Chihuahua (or Spanish: Chihuahueño) is a Mexican breed of toy dog. It is named for the Mexican state of Chihuahua and is among the smallest of all dog breeds.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chihuahua_(dog)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chico

Never thought until…

What’s your dream job?

Oh No! You Went to an Expensive Sandwich Place!

This is not the post. But Anthony Roberts wrote a post talking about people who have always known what they wanted to do. I replied to the post with something to the effect that I had no such aspirations. I envied people who always knew what they wanted to be from the time they were 3. Regardless of profession.

Mostly, I feel like a Wal-Mart bag blowing in the wind. There have been jobs in my past that I like but nothing keeps my attention long. The longest I’ve been at any one job was 9 years.

After starting this blog, I have done a lot of digging into my past. Most of it is this black hole. The memories I do have are meh. Some good. Some not so good. I found something (in my digging) that I wrote in 8th grade. I have found pieces and parts of stories that I wrote throughout high school.

Maybe this is me telling myself that I have always wanted to be an author in some respect. Write poems, tell stories. Take pictures of the weird and not so weird.

There is still at lot of work I need to do, but for the first time in a long time I feel like I’m on the right path. God knows. I just gotta figure it out. 🥰