Affects of an Affair

It all starts in your mind. Just a thought, in the wrong direction, of a person who is not your mate. Thoughts then become fantasies about what life would be like with this person.  Those fantasies can lead to an ongoing pursuit of a social relationship with the object of your imaginations.  Its been said that "affairs don't start in the bedroom, they start with a conversation."One word is all it takes to spark the flame and set the furnace of betrayal ablaze.

A flirty conversation may seem innocent at first, but when you're married,  you have to picture if you would be having this conversation with the opposite sex in front of your spouse. If the answer is no, then you've already gone too far.

The Huffington Post says "an emotional fidelity is the hardest thing to build, and it takes the biggest toll on a relationship when it is betrayed." When bridges have been burned between two people, it takes both of them, working in sync, to rebuild the space that has grown. But, I believe it is the responsibility of the betrayer to see to it that the building project is complete.  

An emotional connection with someone outside of your marriage runs deeper than the physical act of sex. This is why the affects are greater.  Being on the receiving end of betrayal can feel like a continuous death; one you  most certainly have to go through on a daily basis. Even if the couple decides to come back together and make it work, the one who has been betrayed is left with paranoia, lack of self esteem/confidence, and a conscious feeling of unworthiness.  Of course, these feelings can be controlled by the individual, but they have also been fostered by the betrayer. 

Its always hard to picture ourselves in someone else's shoes; especially when we've never experienced the same circumstance, but when the lines of betrayal have been crossed in your relationship, even the slightest movement back over that line can break down everything a couple may have worked hard to rebuild. Flirting with past behaviors and expecting your spouse should "trust you" simply because you say they should will not correct the past.  Your actions have to far out shine your words.  The real challenge comes when you're put in the same situation you were before you made the decision to step outside your marriage, but this time you choose to walk away.  

Opportunities to cheat are almost promised.  The way we react to them is dependent.  What will you do when you're not satisfied in your relationship?  Any relationship worth having will certainly have times when one or both partners is dissatisfied,and not happy.  How will you react to another person who comes along and makes everything feel better for the moment.  You know, the people who you feel can put a band aid over your knife wound.  Because that's all they really are; a band aid.  When it comes down to it, these people have not, and will not put up with the things that your spouse has over the years; nor will they have your back when it feels like the world is against it.   They are a temporary fix to your ego (insecurity) problem.  

There are a great many ways we expect to be treated by others.  We want to know that we can rely on them to keep their word to us; most especially when those words are said in a vow.  Its not surprising that most don't hold themselves to the same standard they expect from others. There is always an excuse to pardon their behavior, and its usually made so that the image they see in the mirror is easier to view. A great man once said' "you can make excuses, or you can make progress, but you can't make both." Make progress.

Trust & Honesty

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My trust flows freely
Whenever I know its true
That your love for me
Is as deep as your love for you

Honesty & trust,
Two things we've lost over time
And had to readjust
Our hearts to beat the same rhyme

Many bridges were broken
Some indefinitely
But we keep paddling and stroking
Across the river called trustworthy

When storms come along
And rock our boat in the water
Will we make it out strong?
Will we paddle even harder?

I get angry at the waves
They are bound to make me see
How ornery life behaves
When we step away from honesty

Self Manipulation

picture provided by: Pilgrim Studios

The other day a coworker asked me if I believed masturbation was a sin. She asked this because of a post one of her friends made on a social media site stating that she believed the act was a necessary choice one made to help in the process of celibacy.  She compared masturbation to vegetarianism; where a man or woman would refrain from having sex with another person in the same way a vegetarian chooses to either only eat poultry and fish, or cut our meat all-together and include dairy their diet instead. My answer to her could be considered a broad one by many standards.  I believe although this personal act of self-manipulation can feel natural to most, it is not one all can handle, therefore; may be a sin for some.

So is masturbation really a sin?  It’s a question I’ve asked God myself.  Though in the Bible it doesn’t come out and directly say it is, there are many factors involved which can relate it to a sinful act.  In Matthew 5:27-29 Jesus says that, “anyone who looks at a woman to lust after her (or lustfully) has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”  This statement is directed toward men, but can also be used when women are looking at men lustfully.   In this way I feel that the act of self-manipulation is a sin, because for many there is no masturbation without the presence of some type of stimulation.  A large percent of people find this in pornography, or in the sexual imaginations of someone they are attracted to. 

My pastor once hinted at the subject during a sermon about marriage.  I can remember sitting in audience thinking, “Finally, I can get my question answered,” but afterward was still left in a sort of fog.  I wanted him to talk more about this subject which naturally seems so taboo, because I’d rather have advice from a more spiritually educated perspective.  What I can remember taking away from his sermon was that it was not a matter of the act, so long as you were thinking about your husband or wife, but a matter of where the act could lead. 

There are instances where this act can become an addiction, and the person finds themselves in a situation where they are no longer able to control the urge to self-manipulate.  In this way, masturbation becomes more of a drug that one uses to gain the euphoric feeling which comes along with the gratification.  Others may find it an easy outlet to gain access to those in the fantasy world whom they would normally not have the same freedoms with in reality.

If you are able to keep your thoughts in control, and they do not wander to persons outside the bonds of marriage, then masturbation, I believe is not a sin for you.  But if you are among a great portion of human beings who find it hard to commit the act without the consistent stimulation of a source outside of matrimony, then masturbation would most definitely be a sin.  After reading passages in the Bible to try and wrap my mind around how the Christian view on this subject would be, this is the conclusion I have come to, and it is the answer I gave to my coworker. My hope is that it cleared some of the clouds from the fog she had in her mind than it did for me when I first started asking the question. 

Elected Trouble

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Oh what a world we live in, now that Real Estate Mogul, Donald Trump is called the President of the United States, and the supposed leader of the free world.  The whole ordeal feels like a joke, or better yet, a bad dream which has made its way on to the scene of reality.  The country has been exposed to more than its share of warnings through mass media, rumor, and the words from this man's own mouth, about how crucial our decisions can be.  What direction will we be taken in under the direction of Trump’s leadership? My hope is that we are not a sinking Titanic, with the promise of greatness, but a destiny to fail.  How can a man who has no political background run an entire country?

The 2017 presidential election carried its campaign on the premise of the people’s deep seeded emotions. It’s just too bad those emotions were steeped in hate. Rumors have swirled about someone out of Russia hacking into America’s most confidential computer files and boosting the votes from the Electoral College in Trump’s favor.  It has also been said that Trump received a good portion of his support from the people who reside in the ‘backwoods’ of the nation, and hate groups like the KKK.  I must say that when someone like David Duke, a former grand wizard in the KKK steps up to publicly show his support for Trump, it seems a bit suspicious.  David Duke, a leading voice in a group of neo-Nazi-type Holocaust deniers, has himself been elected to the Louisiana state House of Representatives. It begs one to wonder what direction the government wants to take this country in. Are Latin people to be rounded up and detained?  The women freely fondled and harassed?  Will Muslims still find themselves under the eye of suspicion, and Blacks continually be oppressed?

I struggle though, to fully blame racist for their ignorant points of view. They were once impressionable children who knew no hate. But these impressionable children fell under the influence of hate-filled parents who chose to live their lives inside of such a taxing burden.  I can’t imagine why we call ourselves “the land of the free” when those who consider themselves the “majority” still live in chains. Yes, hate is a burden that keeps you bound in the prison of bitterness which steels every bit of joy you can have when compared to choosing the freedom in giving love instead.

I’ve been around my share of hateful people, and they all seem to share one thing in common; they are all so angry. I’m left to wonder if they are on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  “Racism is so universal in this country, so widespread, and deep-seated, that it is invisible because it is so normal.”-Shirley Chisholm. Will they build a mental facility big enough to house all of America’s racist when the weight of their abhorrence comes crumbling down?

We have now put into office a good representation of what goes on in the minds of the people in this country: lack of self-control, boastful loathing, a lofty thinking of oneself, and an agenda based solely to benefit the security and justice of those who view themselves as a type of deity above the rest of the nation.

History has been revised enough by government to allow for a biased way of thinking. This leads to a patriotism that is neither based on truth nor reality. I do have to say, the American system of government has done a fine job of being cunning enough to drive an educational and mass media system set up to shift the minds of its people so they truly believe they live in a nation who fights for each individual’s liberty and justice.  In truth, the system is set us to promote a false patriotism so that their ideals are established, and their crimes are protected and covered. One nation, who pushes out God, divisible, with liberty and justice for some.

My Daddy's Daughter

This year my Christmas was spent in a hospital room with my father.  He came there with what he thought was temporary blindness, caused by a fall, but it actually ended up being something much more serious. Colon cancer.

I remember standing in his room and watching him while he slept.  He had yet to learn I was there. My husband, children, and I stood around his bedside quietly so as not to disturb him.  Fear crept into my bones, because to me, he looked to be knocking on death's door. When he stirred I felt a temporary surge of relief, until he opened his eyes and I could see nothing but blankness behind his lids.  It was as if he'd already passed from this life to the next, yet with mobility still allowed in his body.  I prayed to myself that he would be alright. In truth, I needed him to be alright because no child is ever prepared to lose their parents.

To some in my family this may sound weird.  One would have to know the back story behind me and my father's journey in order to understand this.  You see, my father didn't raise me; nor was he apart of my life while I was growing up.  My mother constantly reminded me that he contributed all of $50 to the financial requirements it takes to support a child.  He and my mother divorced when I was only 4, and from what I knew of my father, he was nothing more than a monster who lived to control others.

This knowledge not only came from what my mother told me, it was also witnessed through personal experiences. In my young life I had seen my father raise a hand to my mother countless times. I spent many nights living in fear of what he may someday do to her. His habit of ruthlessness not only extended to my mother, but even lent itself, on many occasions, to his own mother.  She walked in consistent fear of her own son, yet she treated him as if he were a prince.

With all the knowledge I had of what my father was capable of, I was still his little girl, and up until the point where my mother and I were able to sneak out and escape, I was the only one he didn't hurt...

After my mother was finally able to break free from my father, he punished her by staying out of my life (at least from her perspective). But what my father failed to realize, until I became an adult, was that he was punishing me as well.  So many things happened to me as a result of his absence, and over time I grew bitter.  Gone was the little girl who wanted nothing more than to curl up inside her daddy's arms; she was replaced with an attention seeking woman who looked desperately for male approval.

I began to slander my father's very name.  Every thing about him embarrassed me, and when any one told me I looked like him, I vehemently denied it.  I did not want to be apart of anything associated with him outside of his family, who I dearly love.  My mother saw how this root of bitterness was taking hold of me, and in order to try and rectify it, she took to telling me stories about his time spent in war.  She described how he would wake up in night sweats, and move in bed as if he were in battle.  This was all due to his PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder).  Yet he sought no professional help for it.  She explained that he was a fierce soldier who saw the death of many comrades, but was brave enough to continue to fight on the front line of the battle.  With these explanations her hope was to turn me from my sour feelings, and help me see the other side of his story, so I would have a better understanding of the person he chose to be.  None of this worked.  It was only when I was able to write a book about growing up fatherless, (Paper Walls on Amazon.com, or any online book seller) and vent all of my frustrations out with pen and paper, that I was able to be set free from the unforgiveness I harbored for him.

Fast forward to my twenties and thirties, where my father and I actually spent time building our relationship regardless of the past.  After the book purge, I was able to allow room in my heart for the man I didn't want to know.  I was open to listening to him, and hearing his reasons.  He told me many stories which helped to shape my view of why he was who he was.

One story in particular affected him so gravely, when he spoke of it, its as if he were reliving the memory every time.  I sat and listened, as if for the first time, to my father tell me of the nun who told him when he was only a nine year old Catholic school boy, that he would die old and alone, under a tree.  In response to this nun's words, my nine year old father pushed that nun down a flight of stairs. My father will never know that I have heard this story told before, from his sisters on several occasions.  When they tell it, they speak as if my father was designed to be mean from the beginning of his life.  And though I hesitate to admit it, I have to agree, but he is still MY daddy.  There was a reason God called me to be his daughter, so I feel he can't be all bad. My hope is that his current season of incapacity will help him review his life and make a change for the better. Yes, its true he's hurt a lot of people, and he would still prefer to "shoot" someone rather than make friends, but God has given him the blessing of more time, and I pray he uses it well.

My heart hopes that while he is down, but not out, he remembers who holds his future, and that it can still be a bright one.  I long for the day when Daddy doesn't need my husband to stand by while he takes fifteen minutes to struggle into a pair of pants and I wait discreetly outside of his hospital room.  I most definitely want not to be a helpless witness to his weak cries of, "why me," because he no longer has the strength to continue dressing after a taxing attempt at brushing his teeth. I hope that my husband and I will never have to carry his feeble body back to his bed because he is too dizzy to walk.

I wonder sometimes if God is calling him to wake up.  Is he showing my father that He is the one who hold's his whole life in His hands, but yet still waiting for daddy to rectify his choices?  Instead of spewing hateful words with his tongue, God has given him more time to share love with members of the family that he fights so hard to keep to himself.  Eight out of the eleven children my grandmother had are still alive, and my father only allows two of them inside his inner circle.  I wonder how much time The Father will give Daddy to forgive his brothers and sisters the way he expects God to forgive him?

I wonder these things because I want to meet my father in heaven one day.  Hate is a powerful emotion, but love can conquer it all.  I pray my Daddy, with the rest of his time on earth, will choose to love, because there is a great freedom in it; one like he's never known.

The doctors were able to perform the surgery on Daddy's colon, and successfully carve out all the cancer, but the road to recovery is still a long one ahead.  Though the guilt of not being there for me when I needed him eats away at my father, I'm still going to be there for him as much as he needs me to be. I just hope he will conquer all of his demons and be the hero in this life that I always dreamed him to be. I am my daddy's daughter, and that will never change.

A Night to Remember

Recently I attended a wedding fit for a queen.  It was straight out of every girl's fantasy, complete with a chateau built like a castle.  Though I was not the bride, who I must say looked every bit the part of royalty walking down that isle; she was stunning,  I still felt like a princess being escorted on the arm of my own Prince Charming.

The Marcion Wedding

We walked in to a room filled with violinist music.  I looked up, and there she stood on the balcony of the great room, greeting us with her beautiful tunes.  My heels clinked against freshly polished marble floors, which shined so brightly I could have checked my makeup in it.  For one night I was able to be a member of the "elite," at least this was how I felt when we walked over to the check-in table and our names appeared on the list along with the other specially invited guest.

My husband and I were escorted up the stairs where behind silk curtains we walked into the "chapel" with a stone hearth being the focal point of the alter.  This would be where the bride and groom would say their "I do's" and pledge to spend the rest of their lives together. I was in awe. We walked the candlelit center isle to our seats, and I folded the hem of my dress over the 5 inch heels I wore to accommodate its length.

The music selection through the whole ceremony seemed the most appropriately ordained sound to entertain a host of love and matrimonial connections. Afterward, we were led back downstairs to a waiting area where we were served delicious hors d'oeuvres from the tradition of the brides cultural family roots in Louisiana.  Then we entered the dining hall, which also served as the ballroom.  Elegant crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling and matching centerpieces sparkled brightly in the glint of the dimmed lights.

The event was luxurious, and such a perfect date-night get-away for me and my honey. We danced the night away on the marble dance floor, and toasted one another with flutes of champagne.  I felt amazing because its not often my husband and I get to dress up and be "fancy," but this wedding served as the perfect occasion.

To top off all of the festivities, the bride and groom were airlifted away directly from the drive up in front of the chateau's doors.  One would think a horse drawn carriage would be the dream, but this couple took it one step further, and showed all other couples how a wedding should be done.  While I'm not one for all the glamour and glitz, I could truly appreciate all I was fortunate enough to experience.

Instead of being taken away to Wonderland inside of a private helicopter, my Prince Charming opened my door to his brand new sports vehicle and we drove off to our own type of dream spot; home.

To the bride and groom, Mr. & Mrs. Franklin Marcion, I say congratulations.  I pray the Lord blesses your union to see many years, and that through those years you will share beautiful experiences and make lovely memories.  God bless you.

Gloom and Doom

I thought I was waking up from a bad dream this morning.  Trump for president?  A man with no political background and a hefty lack of self control will run this country come 2017.

It seems as though my fellow Americans are filled with the Springfieldian's complex. You know, the residents of Springfield, Wherever from the television show The Simpson's.  Their minds also seem to change with the shift of the wind. It almost becomes humorous to watch citizens fall for self-absorbed propaganda which compromises their interest and values simply because its wrapped in a rage they wish to impose on others.

America, how ignorant have we become?  Are we so determined to lash out against those who don't look like us, don't earn the same income, or don't share the same nationality that we would vote in a man who so blatantly boast of his prejudices? Not only that, but I shake my head at the women who support such degradation of their own gender.  This man has grown up with enough entitlement to believe he can just grab a woman in her genital area and get away with it.  It was a joke to him! Yet we put him in office.  We want this man to lead us, but lead us where; to our own demise?

America's  solution to this country's problems has become like that of a humorous cartoon.  It leaves one to wonder what is next for us under the direction of a man who claims to love war.  I,for one, don't want my children being raised in a world set up like a battle zone.

The hardest thing to open is a closed mind, so I don't expect much in the direction of progress for the next four years.  Obama, you will be truly missed.  I will savor the time we have left until January when all hell breaks loose. Reality will hit when America has to face the consequences of their decision.