So much to say and to interject but I keep getting interrupted. Seriously! What gives? Am I not important? Are my comments not of importance? Sometimes I feel invisible and not seen or heard.
This past weekend, I noticed this more than usual. It happens often but it got on my last nerve although I held it together and soon just shook my head, as it happened yet again. No wonder I am a quiet person and often felt insignificant in life.
I was with my sister last weekend, who lives about four hours away, so we were together all weekend. I love those weekends until she shuts me down in our conversations. I know our time is limited but geez Louise. Talking and laughing, we do a lot and to get it all in or out of our system seemed to be the case. We are both older so time is definitely limited. Faye is sixteen years older than I am but when we are together, we can shop, go and do, just not as long.
Still, I would start talking and then she would, over and over, interrupt me. I give up. I am patient but on the inside at times I found myself screaming, 
listen to me as I am not finished talking. I just move on and forget my information or story, who cares, is my attitude. Maybe I am boring but still she doesn’t know me truly but this has been my life. Nobody really knows me. Perhaps this is why I like to write.
Anyway, I found it interesting and somewhat funny that when I met with my present counselor on the following Tuesday, he did the same, interrupted me. Good gravy! It’s my counseling session, let me talk as I am not finished talking and telling whatever I was mentioning to him. That session was odd but usually they flow well. Was it me or was it him?
While I see another counselor also on Thursday, which is a whole other story that I can write about, of seeing two counselors. In that session, I did talk a lot and I probably had her head swimming although she said she was following me. We both laughed. I told her that my former counselor would be so proud of me for talking so much, as I was always quiet for the most part, listening and grasping her words and wisdom and rightfully so. I grew in those four years of counseling sessions, as I needed direction and healing in many areas and it was not always easy. Not that I am not growing now because I am but it is different with both counselors, and I am okay with that, as it is a transitional period for me, I feel. It’s all good, actually pretty nice. They are both awesome and I feel blessed to have them help me move forward, it is like accelerated counseling.
Thank God I am not the same person I was five years ago.
So if you made it this far in my writing of this blog, thank you. You let me finish. lol I do enjoy laughter and hope this made you smile. 
Hope you have a wonderful day.
Most importantly… He knows my voice and He knows your voice.
The good news is that I have lost eighty-five of it. Yay me! I am at the weight before having my second child. I walk a lot, watch my food intake and guzzle water often. I am trying. I have been in counseling the last five years to tend to my wellbeing in all areas. This endeavor has not been easy and at times, cookies and milk would sure solve all of my problems, which is not true, of course.
I stand at the door and knock. Awaiting for my son to open it as this mother was concerned. I was not leaving until he opened the door and planning to camp out, if need be. As my patience grew weak and my anger grew in intensity, I found the peace and just prayed. I had to pray that I did not lash out words of anger but of love and encouragement. How can he allow his mother to stand somewhat patiently in the hallway of his apartment building while finishing up a video game? My mind went to the disrespect and anger, which followed easily enough. While I am patient, I understand that ‘in the middle of a game’ with guys it is crucial. I have had too many boys hang out in my home over the years to know different so I patiently and impatiently waited. Still, feeling that bit of frustration. I was determined to not leave and he knew it. A surprise visit, an hour away from home does not happen often but when it does, you best be ready to open the door. Mama is here! I knew something was not right.
How can I stay frustrated though when the door is unlocked, opened and I see his 6’3″ frame before me and not love and hug him tight with tears? He is mine! No matter how tall, how old, how aggravated my inside was experiencing, he will always be mine. My child.
blanks. Yes, he is like me, I was and am his mother and while I have made mistakes, I was and am also a great mother. So turning those lies into positive and to get the enemy off my back and out of my mind is what I did and do often. Lies and fear must go.
My present counselor mentioned the other day that he was reminded of me while reading the Bible and various writings that all seemed to relate. I had told him of my surprise visit to my son’s apartment, standing at the door knocking. The verse, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.” He knew of my love for my son and the concern I had plus my determination of not leaving him until I knew he was okay. I loved that my counselor told me that and how this reminded him of me doing the same, I stand at the door and knock.
Just Pondering... 