THERE WERE JUST THE THREE OF US IN THE BEGINNING,
ME BEING THE YOUNGEST,
AND, LOOKING BACK, THE OBVIOUSLY CUTEST ONE
OF THEM ALL
EVEN WHEN I GREW WHAT THEY ALL SAID WAS WAY TOO TALL,
YET ANOTHER FACT OF WHICH I HAD NO CONTROL
AND THEY APPARENTLY COULDN'T HELP THEMSELVES
TO TAUNT ME RELENTLESSLY, DRILLING IT IN
AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN
THAT I WASN'T AND WOULD NEVER BELONG
OR BE PART OF THEIR PRECIOUS FAMILY.
BUT PRAISE THE LORD I AM PART OF HIS FAMILY NOW,
HAVING BEEN GRAFTED INTO THE FAMILY TREE
SO TO SPEAK.
SO, DEAR DIARY, THERE I WAS,
LITTLE SUNSHINE,
HAIR STREAKED BLOND
IN THE HOT SOUTHERN ARIZONA SUN,
FRECKLES SPRECKLED ON BOTH CHEEKS
AND, OF COURSE, ON MY NOSE.
O, AND DID I FORGET TO MENTION
THE DIMPLES THAT MAGICALLY APPEARED
WHEN I SMILED,
PLUS MY LIGHT GREEN EYES,
CROOKED SMILE TO MATCH THE HOME CUT CROOKED BANGS,
AND A RED STREAK OF HAIR ON THE RIGHT SIDE,
MY SCOTTISH AND IRISH ROOTS TRYING TO BREAK THROUGH.
ALWAYS TREATED AS AN OUTCAST,
DEAR DIARY.
I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHY.
I CRY TOO MUCH AND AM TOO SENSITIVE OR
MAYBE BECAUSE I HAD THE BAD LUCK TO BE BORN LOOKING LIKE THE FEMALE VERSION OF MY FATHER,
THE PLAYER AND THE TROUBLEMAKER AND APPARENTLY THE INSTIGATOR.
ALL ALONE ON MY GRANDDADDY'S COTTON FARM,
OLD RUSTED TRACTORS TO PLAY ON,
THE DITCH TO SWIM IN
PLUS THE VERY SLIPPERY
MOLDY PUMP AREA,
RIGHT NEXT TO THE JACK RABBITS GRANDDADDY
AND MY THREE COWBOY UNCLES HAD CAUGHT.
AND WE COULD SLIDE THROUGH A HOLE
INTO THE DITCH JUST BELOW.
IT WAS A NICE CHANGE,
TO HAVE FUN OUT IN THE HOT SOUTHERN ARIZONA SUN.
OLD COTTON TRAILERS SITTING OUT NEAR THE POND.
LOTS OF COTTONWOOD TREES THAT MY LONG
STRONG LEGS COULD TAKE ME SO HIGH IN THE SKY.
I THOUGHT I SAW FAIRIES,
AND ALL I WANTED WAS JUST TO FLY AWAY WITH THEM
CUZ I NEVER KNEW WHY THE OTHER TWO WERE SUCH BULLIES TO ME, ONLY LETTING ME PLAY WITH THEM IF I AGREED TO BE THE BABY IN THEIR KINDA CREEPY PLAYS.
AND GOD FORBID IF I EVER CRIED.
THEN THERE WERE THE WATERMELON PATCHES,
ALONG WITH SOME KIND OF BERRIES, AND, OF COURSE,
ALL THE COTTON, NOT TO MENTION THE RATLERS. I ALWAYS HEARD THEM, BUT THANK THE GOOD LORD, NEVER GOT BIT. MY UNCLE COLLECTED THE RATTLES IN A JAR. CRAZY THING TO COLLECT, DON'T YOU THINK, DEAR DIARY, CUZ YOU'D HAVE TO CATCH A RATLER TO GET IT'S RATTLE. PART OF LIFE ON A COTTON FARM IN THE HOT ARIZONA SUN.
THE BIG SEQUOIA RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR OF THE HOUSE WITH THE SHINY TIN ROOF YOU COULD SEE FOR MILES.
AND THE BUMPY DIRT ROADS, UP AND DOWN, MY DADDY DRIVING FAST, THE TWO OF US GIRLS LAUGHING IN THE BACK, BUT ALWAYS KEEPING MY EYES OUT FOR THE GLINT OF SUN OFF OF THAT TIN ROOF. THAT FARM WAS MY REFUGE. WAY OUT IN THE HOT ARIZONA SUN.
THE OLD WOODEN FARM HOUSE, SNAKES EVERYWHERE.
THE SWEET JUICY GRAPES RIGHT OFF THE VINE. AND ALL OF THAT SUNSHINE.
PLAYING WITH BLADE, MY FAVORITE DOG OUT OF ALL OF MY GRANDDADDY'S COON DOGS, PENNED UP IN THE SIDE YARD.
JUST ANOTHER THING I DISCOVERED LATELY. I THOUGHT THEY WERE RACING GREYHOUNDS ALL OF THIS TIME, NOW I COME TO FIND OUT THAT THE GRANDDADDY I LOVED SO MUCH, A TRUE COWBOY, WHO STARTED OUT AS A DIRT FARMER, LIVING IN A TENT, TO HAVING HIS OWN FARM, WAS A COON HUNTER.
O WELL. DOESN'T CHANGE MY LOVE FOR HIM. HE FOUGHT TO MARRY MY GRANDMA CUZ HE WAS TWICE HER AGE AND HAD BEEN MARRIED BEFORE, A WHOLE OTHER FAMILY. SHE WAS SIXTEEN. QUITE A SCANDAL IN THE 1930s.
THEY HAD A DRIVE-THRU WEDDING. THEY GOT MARRIED IN THEIR MODEL T. IT WAS RAINING, AND APPARENTLY THE PREACHER HAD TO LEAN IN
IN ORDER TO MARRY THEM.
I AM PROUD TO COME FROM SUCH HARD WORKERS, THE BACKBONE OF THIS ONCE GODLY COUNTRY.
RUNNING AROUND OUT IN THE COTTON FARM IN THE VERY HOT ARIZONA SUN, RUSTY BARBWIRE FENCES EVERYWHERE, BAREFOOT AND IN A BATHING SUIT.
LIKE I SAID.
CUTE.
EVEN THOUGH THE OTHER TWO BULLIED ME, I FOUND PLENTY OF THINGS TO DO BY MYSELF.
I DIDN'T WANT TO.
I WAS LONELY, BUT I HAD NO CHOICE.
PLUS I DIDN'T WANT THEM TO BLAME ME FOR SOMETHING I DIDN'T DO OR MAKE ME CRY CUZ GRANDMA WOULD MAKE ME PICK A SWITCH OFF ONE OF THE COTTONWOOD TREES. AND SPARE THE ROD....
SOUTHERN BAPTISTS, FIRE AND BRIMSTONE ON BOTH SIDES.
LOOKING BACK AGAIN, DEAR DIARY, I THINK MAYBE TO THE TWO OF THEM, THIS WAS JUST ANOTHER GAME.
AS I HAVE SAID BEFORE, I HONESTLY BELIEVE THEY WANTED TO PUNISH ME BECAUSE I HAD TWO STRONG, LONG LEGS AND COULD RUN FAST OUT THERE IN THE HOT ARIZONA FARM.
AND I REMEMBER THE TWO OF US LITTLE GIRLS TAKING THE BUS FROM PHOENIX TO THE LITTLE BUS STOP/ICE CREAM SHOP IN COOLIDGE, GRANDMA ALWAYS WAITING FOR US, DRESSED NICELY, HAIR DONE UP, HOLDING A PRETTY PURSE. A VERY NICE MEMORY OF MY SWEET SOUTHERN BAPTIST, CHURCH GOING, GREAT GODLY WOMAN ROLE MODEL GRANDMA, WORKING HARD FROM THE CALL OF THE ROOSTER UNTIL FAR AFTER THE HOT ARIZONA SUN SET. ALWAYS WORKING HARD TO PUT FOOD ON THE TABLE.
I REMEMBER EVERY SUNDAY WE WERE THERE BEGGING GRANDMA RELENTLESSLY TO PLEASE LET ME STAY HOME WITH GRANDDADDY. BUT I THANK GOD NOW THAT SHE DRAGGED ME TO BIBLE STUDY AND CHURCH AND I LEARNED ALL ABOUT JESUS.
SIS GOT POLIO IN HER LEG WHEN SHE WAS TWO, SO LITTLE ME, 19 MONTHS YOUNGER, ASTHMA NOTWITHSTANDING, WAS LEFT TO PLAY ALONE MOST OF THE TIME WHEN I WASN'T BEING SPANKED, OR WHEN DADDY WASN'T THERE TO TELL ME I WAS PRETTY, MOM AND SIS LOVED TO GANG UP ON ME AND TELL ME HOW STUPID AND UGLY I WAS, THAT I WAS AN EMBARRASSMENT TO THEM AND BELONGED IN A MENTAL HOSPITAL. AND WHEN THEY WEREN'T BULLYING ME, I ALWAYS FELT INVISIBLE AND THAT IT WAS SOMEHOW MY FAULT THAT SIS HAD GOT SO SICK, THAT IT WAS ME THAT SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN POLIO, IF FOR NO OTHER REASON THAN TO BE PUNISHED, AGAIN, FOR LOOKING TOO MUCH LIKE DADDY. HEY, DEAR DIARY, I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THE WAY GOD MADE ME. K?
THEN THERE WAS THE SENSITIVITY FACTOR. ANOTHER TAUNTING.
IT TOOK ME A LONG TIME TO FINALLY REALIZE THAT SENSITIVITY IS A GIFT. I WOULD NOT HAVE THE VISIONS THAT I NOW HAVE IF I WAS NOT SO SENSITIVE.
DEAR DIARY, I KNOW THIS SOUNDS CRAZY EVEN TO ME. BUT I RECENTLY SAW JESUS THE LAST TIME I WAS IN THE ER. MY PULSE WAS ZERO SEVERAL TIMES. I SAW HIM THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY, AND HE VERY STERNLY, LIKE A FATHER WOULD, TOLD ME TO GO BACK, THAT HE WAS NOT FINISHED WITH ME YET.
DARN IT. I WANNA GO HOME.
I HAVE EVEN SENSED JESUS KNEELING BY THE SIDE OF MY BED WHEN I'M SILENTLY CRYING LATE AT NIGHT, HOLDING MY HAND AND SOFTLY BRUSHING MY HAIR,
WHISPERING SWEET NOTHINGS IN MY EAR.
I HAVE EVEN SMELLED HIM. A SWEET INCENSE THAT CANNOT QUITE BE DESCRIBED.
I HAVE FELT THE BRUSH OF ANGEL'S WINGS, AND I HAVE SEEN, IN A BRIGHT RED NEON LIGHT, THE BLOOD OF JESUS SURROUNDING OUR ROOM.
THE FALLEN ONE IS NOT ALLOWED IN.
THE DEVIL IS REAL, BUT YOU ARE PROTECTED THROUGH THE BLOOD OF JESUS. FEAR DOES NOT COME FROM THE LORD. AND, DEAR DIARY, I REALLY DON'T FEEL LIKE LOOKING IT UP FOR YOU, BUT READ ABOUT SPIRITUAL WARFARE AND SPIRITUAL ARMOUR SOMEWHERE IN EPHESIANS SIX.
CALL ME CRAZY. IT'S OKAY. I'VE BEEN CALLED CRAZY AND WORSE ALL MY LIFE BY MY MOTHER, MY SISTER, AND NOW BY SOMEONE ELSE WHOM I LOVE SO MUCH. PLEASE DON'T TELL ANYONE ELSE, OKAY, DEAR DIARY?
AND, YES, I HAVE NEVER HID THE PARTICULAR FACT THAT I HEAR FROM GOD. I'VE HEARD HIS VOICE. OUT LOUD ONCE. YOU CAN TOO IF YOU WANT. HE SPEAKS TO US THROUGH HIS WORD. HAVE YOU READ IT LATELY? YOU SHOULD BE READING IT DAILY, BECAUSE THE SIGNS ARE EVERYWHERE. WHETHER YOU WANT TO BELIEVE IT OR NOT, WE NEED TO BE READY EVERY DAY, DEAR DIARY.
PUT JESUS FIRST, BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE, OR ANYONE ELSE, EVEN YOUR SPOUSE. I AM MARRIED TO JESUS FIRST AND FOREMOST.
DO YOU THINK YOU COULD JUST TRY AND SPEND MORE TIME WITH HIM THAN YOU DO WITH YOUR FAVORITE SHOWS OR COMPUTER GAMES? WATCH OUT THOUGH, CUZ I HEAR IF YOU PUT JESUS FIRST YOUR LIFE WILL CHANGE RADICALLY.
THIS IS ONLY, DEAR DIARY, IF YOU WANT TO GET CLOSER TO GOD, YOUR CREATOR, YOUR KING. IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE. RADICALLY.
SO, YES, I COME FROM A VERY ABUSIVE BACKGROUND. MY SISTER WILL DENY IT TO HER LAST BREATH, BUT SHE WAS PART OF THE ABUSE AS WELL, LOCKING ME IN DARK CLOSETS WHEN NO ONE ELSE WAS THERE OR SITTING ON ME UNTIL I OUTGREW HER BY QUITE A BIT. HAH! PAYBACK!
BTW, THANKS FOR THE GIFT OF EXTREME CLAUSTROPHOBIA DEAR SIS.
I DON'T KNOW WHY SHE DISLIKES ME SO. SHE WAS JUST PLAIN MEAN. STILL IS AN ONRY LITTLE THING. I AM ACTUALLY QUITE SCARED OF HER BECAUSE SHE HAS THREATENED ME SEVERAL TIMES, AND SHE CARRIES, AND SHE'S AN ALCOHOLIC. YEAH, I KNOW, NOT A GOOD COMBO. SO I WILL STAY RIGHT HERE, FAR, FAR AWAY FROM HER. BUT I NEED TO FORGIVE HER, IF NOTHING ELSE BUT TO SET MYSELF FREE, DEAR DIARY.
OKAY, DEAR DIARY, I LEFT THE GROSSEST STORY FOR THE LAST. I HOPE IT DOESN'T GIVE YOU NIGHTMARES LIKE IT DID TO ME, DEAR DIARY, FOR YEARS.
CHICKENS. IF GRANDMA WANTED CHICKEN FOR DINNER, SHE WOULD GO OUT BACK, GRAB ONE FROM THE COOP, TWIST IT'S NECK, AND WAM - CHICKEN'S REALLY DO RUN AROUND WITHOUT THEIR HEADS. AROUND AND AROUND AND AROUND, BLOOD SPURTING EVERYWHERE OUT THERE ON THE COTTON FARM IN THE HOT SOUTHERN ARIZONA SUN. AND THE TWO BULLIES, MY DEAR UNCLE. BUT AGE-WISE MORE OF AN OLDER BROTHER, MOM BEING THE ELDEST OF SEVEN AND HIM BEING THE YOUNGEST, AND MY SWEET OLDER SISTER AND HIM FIGHTING OVER WHO GOT THE CHICKEN HEAD SO THEY COULD PUT IT ON THEIR FINGER AND CHASE ME AROUND WITH IT.
NICE.
THANKS.
DEAR DIARY, EVER SINCE THIS I CANNOT EAT FRIED CHICKEN.
DO YOU THINK, DEAR DIARY, THAT EITHER OF THEM CARE OR ARE EVEN AWARE OF ALL OF THE SCARS THEY PUT ON MY POOR BRUISED BURDENED HEART?
AND I THINK I'VE MENTIONED THE SHOOTING IN THE LEGS WITH DEAR UNCLE'S BB GUN. WHY? AGAIN, WAS IT BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO PUNISH ME CUZ I HAD TWO STRONG LEGS, NOT JUST ONE, AND DIDN'T HAVE POLIO?
AND THE TIME I BROKE MY ARM, ALTHOUGH MY MOTHER DENY'S THAT IT WAS BROKEN, THAT IT WAS JUST A SPRAIN. WELL, IT WAS IN A CAST, AND EVEN IF IT WAS JUST A SPRAIN, IT'S A WELL KNOWN FACT THAT SPRAINS HURT MUCH WORSE THAN BREAKS. AND THROWING ME INTO MY TINY CLOSET SIZED ROOM THE ENTIRE DAY CUZ OF ALL OF MY CRYING. I WAS FIVE YEARS OLD AND I WAS BADLY HURT. THEN, DEAR DIARY, DADDY CAME HOME VERY LATE THAT NIGHT, VERY GENTLY PICKED ME UP IN HIS STRONG LOVING ARMS AND WRAPPED ME IN A BLANKET AND WITHOUT HESITATION IMMEDIATELY TOOK ME STRAIGHT TO THE HOSPITAL. HE MAY HAVE BEEN THE INSTIGATOR, BUT I LOVED HIM AND MISS HIM AS IF HE LEFT ME YESTERDAY, DEAR DIARY.
AND THEN JESUS CAME INTO MY HEART WHEN I WAS JUST FIVE. HE SAW THE SITUATION, KNEW HOW SAD AND LONELY I WAS, EVEN THOUGH MY NICKNAME WAS SUNSHINE.
DEAR DIARY, I WILL NEVER FORGET THAT SUNDAY MORNING, SITTING NEXT TO MOM, AND THERE WAS AN ALTER CALL AND I FELT AS IF A ROPE WAS TIED AROUND MY HEART AND I WAS VERY STRONGLY BEING PULLED UP TO THE ALTER. BUT MOM HELD ME BACK. I JUST RECENTLY FOUND OUT THE REASON SHE DID THIS WAS BECAUSE MY DADDY HAD TOLD HER 'DON'T YOU DARE LET THOSE GIRLS GO UP TO THE ALTER.' BUT, PRAISE GOD, YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE AT AN ALTER TO BE SAVED. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO BE AT CHURCH. YOU CAN BE ALL BY YOURSELF LATE AT NIGHT AND OPEN YOUR HEART.
HE'S KNOCKING. SHHH. LISTEN. CAN YOU HEAR THAT?
JUST LET HIM IN AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS. YOU DON'T HAVE TO CHANGE ANYTHING ABOUT YOURSELF. HE WILL CHANGE YOU IF YOU WANT TO. HE CHANGED ME FROM AN ENTITLED SNOB INTO SOMEONE WHO SHARES YOU, DEAR DIARY, WITH THE ENTIRE WORLD, WRITING ABOUT HER MOST PERSONAL PAINFUL MOMENTS. AND MY SILLY LITTLE RANTS? THEY HAVE GONE INTO COUNTRIES THAT I HAVE TO LOOK ON THE MAP TO SEE WHERE THEY ARE. THAT IS GOD DOING THAT, AND IT IS GOD THAT GIVES ME THE WORDS I WRITE. NO LIE, DEAR DIARY.
IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN, PLEASE TRAIN THEM UP IN THE WAY THEY SHOULD GO AND NOT TURN THEM INTO A LITTLE MINI YOU. I WON A TROPHY FOR THE VERY FIRST POEM I WROTE IN FIRST GRADE. I WAS FIVE. THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GIFT FROM GOD TO ME. I ALSO WON AN AWARD FOR A CHALK DRAWING OF A PARROT. BUT MOM TURNED ME INTO A LITTLE MINI HER.
I'M ME NOW, THO, EXACTLY HOW GOD MADE ME.
PLEASE PRAY FOR ME, DEAR DIARY, BECAUSE I AM GOING TO BE COMBING THROUGH OVER 600 POEMS I HAVE WRITTEN IN ORDER TO FIND 100 THAT I AM GOING TO TURN INTO AN E BOOK, AND I AM GOING TO HONOR MY MAMA WHO WENT TO BE WITH JESUS DECEMBER 15, 2015, AND HARD COPY PUBLISH MY AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL CHILDREN'S TRILOGY - BRAVE BUNNY. I DID TAKE ARTISTIC LICENSE AND TURNED THE DITCH INTO A CRICK, I THINK. I AM LOOKING FOR A FEW PEOPLE TO MAKE NICE SHORT COMMENTS ABOUT EITHER A POEM OR BRAVE BUNNY SO I CAN PUBLISH THEM ALONG WITH THEIR NAME. CAN I USE SOMETHING YOU HAVE SAID, DEAR DIARY?
O, I DID GET MY FIRST FAN, DEAR DIARY, AND SHE SAID SHE WILL LET ME QUOTE WHAT SHE WROTE ABOUT 'SARA BEARA', WHICH, BTW, HAS BECOME QUITE POPULAR. AND WHAT THIS SWEET YOUNG GIRL SAID ENCOURAGED ME TO KEEP WRITING WHEN I WAS, YET AGAIN, WANTING TO BE FINISHED WITH IT ALL, NOT GETTING THE SUPPORT I FEEL I NEED AT HOME.
MY MESSAGE IN EVERYTHING I WRITE IS THAT IT'S OKAY TO BE DIFFERENT CUZ THAT'S HOW GOD MADE YOU AND ME, DEAR DIARY. I HAVE FELT AND BEEN MADE TO FEEL DIFFERENT ALL OF MY LIFE. THAT IS A VERY LONG TIME.
ALSO, WHATEVER KIND OF ABUSE YOU HAVE BEEN THROUGH, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
AND NEVER FORGET HOW MUCH OUR HEAVENLY DADDY LOVES YOU - SO MUCH THAT HE SACRIFICED HIS ONLY SON, WASHING US CLEAN WITH HIS BLOOD.
TTFN, DEAR DIARY.
PS: PSALM 13:6 - I WILL SING THE LORDS PRAISE, FOR HE HAS BEEN GOOD TO ME.
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