Your praise isn’t just an expression of your joy. You actually are doing battle in the spirit realm. While you are praising God–swoop!–the angels of God are stopping your enemy in His tracks. Swoop!–the angels of God are scattering your enemy!
Meet part of my Furbaby Family. These three usually join me for early morning My Daily Med and first words of the day.
Khawaga Kid and Kabtn Khawaga. Kabtn Khawaga is my father. I am his Khawaga Kid. My mother is his First Mate V. I am writing a memoir called The Family Court Case from Hell.
I changed the name of my 10th anniversary “card” to hubby. It’s called Howdy Neighbor. Arrowhead Season is a chapter and also a poem.
Does it seem as if the world today is constantly changing? I know it seems that way to me. This might cause us to be filled with anxiety unless we remember that “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1). Disturbing times should remind us we are only pilgrims on this earth. Our citizenship is in a heavenly kingdom that can never be shaken.
The commotion of this present world is nothing unprecedented. 1944 was a year of tremendous turmoil in our country because of WWII. Many people anxiously listened to the evening news, fearing the death of loved ones as battles were reported.
When times are frightening and uncertain–whether personally, nationally, or globally–the place to find comfort and assurance is the Bible, especially the book of Psalms. Scripture helps us look circumstances from God’s perspective. That reassures us of His love and care for us and lifts our eyes to a higher hope than anything this world can offer.
We all want to find peace, and the first step is to cease striving–Psalm 46:10–Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!
Remember that the Lord is always with you, and know that His kingdom is coming.
My blog is my writing world post-NaNo2020. Emerging. Becoming.
Needs a touch up, so I took it to her yesterday. She will wash it, block it, and have the lace sitting “just so” when she works her magic. I have the last real Christmas Tree she decorated. She gave it to me, changing her Christmas decor; her little cozy place of her own. I wanted her to have her beautiful gingerbread creation. Although it’s tiny, a lot of love and time were invested in this project she completed in 1986.
2020 a year of maintenance and housekeeping. Who to keep? Who to let go? Forgiving and preserving fond memories.
Ashes of Roses
I hold the
Dried rose petals
Whispering a prayer
I strike a match
To incinerate memories
Free of shadows
Ashes of roses
Dear First Mate V,
You did not want to live without Kabtn Khawaga when he destroyed your world and left you without a backward glance. He physically, verbally, mentally and emotionally abused you, but it was his infidelity that broke you and you finally divorced him. He continues to mentally, emotionally and financially abuse you for what he perceives as your rejection of him. Kabtn wanted his Kate and Edith too. What he’s doing to you is called Coercive Control.
It is time for you to have a good life for yourself again. The best gift you could ever give me is yourself and your illustrations of stories I’m writing about your life. I admire you for your devoted and selfless care of my brain injured sister. You two were abandoned and neglected by Kabtn. Left without financial support, homeless, and zero emotional support from Kabtn and his merry band of fraudsters.
Sadness, anger, hurt. I felt these emotions and more when you told me you tried to kill yourself; not to hurt anyone, but to stop hurting. It felt like you wanted to abandon us too. I did not run away from you, our Mama/Momma. I ran away from V. Now I understand so much more. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
Elements in relation
Daughter’s water douses
Boils daughter’s water
Dear Kabtn Khawaga,
The unforgiveness that burdened me for decades almost killed me. Feeling like I had to prove myself worthy of your love and attention, to not be excluded from your life.
2015. Comprehension of your contempt for your first family. A vengeful storm brewed, wreaking havoc in my spirit. Spewing toxins like an oilfield, poisoning my environment. We three females of your first family were only discards in your poker hand. I wanted you to pay with the only currency that matters in your world. Cold, hard CA$H. Dollars earned by any means necessary. Your money is blood money, earned with the life of my sister and the shattering that created V. V. Protector of our mother, found guilty of loving and believing in you.
Dangled carrots, bloody turnips. You, Kabtn; dropping in and out of my life, on a whim. 2007. You realized I was no longer buying your lies and bankrupting myself in the process. You tried to drop back out when I returned to America after my visit to your family home in Alexandria, Egypt. I fight for my family, Kabtn. Your sister the Bulldog and your fourth wife the Diva hide you behind their skirts. You like to keep your harem stirred and fighting, it keeps them distracted while you do whatever floats your boat. In the days before my departure from your home in Alex, I felt the freeze as you retreated, turning colder. I watched in disbelief when you ” played” with Sunny the way you “played” with me. Diva was there the three times I witnessed it, but you were so brazen the last time…outside, in the ground floor flat’s garden. Under the window of the Atelier owned by Sadat’s family. The gates had bars and we were at the corner of two busy streets. People looked through those bars at the Khawaga married to his Alexandrian Diva. This time, I knew why. I found all I needed to know about you as the Familiar Stranger, the International Deadbeat Dad.
You are Kabtn Khawaga in my memoir. I am your Khawaga Kid. The daughter holding onto the grief of my dead family; I was destroying not only myself, but the lives of my loved ones. I end this letter with words that lead to healing for the health of my family. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
Aswan in August
Boarding our felucca
To cruise the Nile
You point to a word
“What does that say?”
You ask. I reply
“Captain spelled Kabtn”
A good memory
Of a good day
The word game
A man once called Daddy
Played with his first daughter
Part 2. This story was finished on December 7, 2018. The author is a work in progress. 🙂
You must not only survive after catastrophe and trauma, you must extend yourself; thrive, flourish, nourish, sustain, maintain. Cultivate your own seeds of faith and patience garden. Stand up for yourself, especially when you stand alone. Respect other people; expect respect in return. Someone who does not respect you has no place in your life. Have NO CONTACT with the perpetually dysfunctional and/or the perpetrators of abuse. Realize that if a pattern of abuse is working for them, they are highly unlikely to change of their own volition. They may say things like, “If you really loved me, you would want to be in my life.” Remain silent, do not engage in their quest for negative attention. Any response gives them their “fix.” The truth is, if they respected you and your personal boundaries, they would change their behavior toward you. Accept the fact that some people will never change. If you want change, be the change. Make waves when waves are necessary.
Give thanks and be grateful. I am thankful for the opportunity to write today, practicing the Art of Becoming. Become beautiful from the inside out. Contrary to popular opinion, appearance is NOT everything. Sometimes beauty is only on the surface. Choose a beauty that endures and grows within. What will you have left when your “youthful beauty” fades? Always be willing to change when circumstances deem change necessary. Bend but don’t break. Become fluid, like water; no longer petrified like a piece of wood turned to stone.
November 27, 2017. I was homeless, jobless. I was no spring chicken. The security and stability of the safest home I ever had went up in a puff of smoke. That morning, I was filled with hope that the dysfunction and effects of trauma, abuse, coercive control, were losing the battle for my family, my very life. By nightfall, I was in a state of grief and shock, unable to comprehend the sudden devastation. I had to let go to hold on, focusing on the changes necessary in my woman’s heart. Healing must begin with myself before I can help anyone else.
The Sea of Humanity calls me; it is my last day on IsLand. I found my buried treasure and I wrote my own message on the Wall of Words. I cross the Pool of Reflection and gaze one final time into the Inside Out Mirror. I have no idea if my hair looks perfect, or if the outfit I’m wearing makes me look fat. Inside, I see the true beauty of a joyful, forgiven and forgiving woman’s heart. I can leave the cave called UrHere since I have crossed the abyss to the other side of dysfunction.
Words written in sand were words that had to be acknowledged, but not memorialized. I leave them here on the shore of IsLand to be washed away by the tides of time; they have served their purpose and will only sink me. I push my canoe into the waters and paddle away. Looking forward, not back, I wave.