Who and What was I meant to Be

It'as a year and bit since my mama died. I am still trying to find a place of peace and rest in that and still fail. Nothing was ever finished with her. And so it is that way in her death. Her ashes still resided in my living room. I don't want her here but I have not a place I can bury her and no money to do so.So she stays. The elephant in the room. The source of a majority of my pain and grief. 

I wonder who I was before I was able to remember. Before people told me who and what I was. I wonder who I was when the good Lord says that he “knew me before I was born.”. Who did he see and what did he know? Did he know the word would change me? Oh to lay my head against his chest and to feel that goodness that I cannot remember. Who did you see me as Lord?  Did you see me as an innocent baby or as an antisocial, bitter, old woman. One who wishes Christmas, and life itself was over? Yet my very numbered seconds are still here. I am something other than what you desired me to be. The ones I love have come to hate me, and ones I never knew have come to love me, yet my heart wants the haters. The haters that threw away my will to be anything at all. The haters took away my will to breathe, and to wake up. Nothing is done through my own will but through God's. You, my gentle creator wake me, and force the air into my lungs and get me moving with great proclamations and songs such as “This is the Day that the Lord has Made”, ….let us rejoice and be glad in in. How Lord? When all my gladness is gone and only sadness remains. When the only desire I have is for a visit from Morpheus who will wrap his arms around my shoulders and walk me across Valley of the shadow death. Away from everything that no longer means anything. For Christmas, I would like to be in heaven. I want to be with Abba, and have him tell me who he saw me to be. I would not do my life over. None of it. I would chose not to exist in order to not experience the pain, panic, and fear that permeated everything I ever did. There was never anyone to comfort me or to hold or console me in those moments. I did it all by myself. Inappropriately, but I did it. Alcohol was my medicine and over and over I hoped it would also take me life. Alchohol let me forget. There was never anyone who loved me enough to care about my fear, panic, or anxieties. They only thing they did was made me feel worse and give me more guilt to carry.. There was never a dad or mom who encouraged or cheered me along the way. No grandparents, or aunts and uncles. I existed only by myself. No one cared. Yes, sure I made mistakes and spent 3 decades trying to made things right and my words landed on their deaf ears. My heart was never seen with their sightless eyes. All of these people beat the me out of me. With objects that would inflict pain and scars and with words that cut right through the middle of me and let all my life force and will draining out. At times I've tried to hurry it up by cuttinng myself. Nothing of what you saw in me remains my Lord. Death would be preferable now, It would have been better for the world and my family if I never existerd in this cruel bitter world. This place that is not my home. God, I want to go home. To go peacefully in to that Silent Night and just maybe  I might be blessed enough to hear the angels sing.