BY: JANA GREENE

Life is for sharing. That’s my creed.

I’m horrible at holding cards close to my chest. I’m awful at stoically handling things “on my own,” privately. I get on my own nerves with my oversharing tendencies sometimes, but I don’t know any other way to get through this life without sharing experiences and gleaning the hope of others’ experiences.

When I was drinking, I was a closeted everything. I had secrets to keep. Nobody knew any of my business because I was protecting my right to cope the only way I knew how. When I got sober 20 years ago, I had to change my ways. I had to seek out others who were battling the same demons, and we held one another up. I never looked back from that lesson – that in order to live in the light, I must live communally.

So that’s why I’m sharing my life with all of you. I pray something I might say will make you feel less alone. This is particularly important in recovery…staying alcohol-free is not a solitary endeavor. I learn so very much from the people who share their journeys with me, and there’s no way I would have survived my circumstances alone.

So I’m going to be sharing a couple of new facets of my journey with ya’ll, dear readers.

Some of you know that I’ve undergone a faith renovation in the past five years or so; one which came about as a result of my dealing with chronic illness and pain. I’ve done some rigorous soul-searching and come away with my fundamentalism in tatters, but my love for Jesus astounding. So I will still be writing about that aspect and all the feelings, musings, and observations that entails.

But I am very recently having to deal with another pretty tremendous blow, and I need to write about my thoughts and fears don’t become a toxic sludge. I don’t know why sharing helps. It just does.

Without going through the litany of health issues I have – which are legion – the latest news is that my kidneys are failing. Failing. I hate that word….failing.

I feel like I am failing at a number of things lately, so it figures. I cannot undo the permanent damage, but I can possibly keep it from getting worse. There are a number of things that led up to this predicament, namely crazy bad diabetes. But there are several genetic factors contributing as well. It’s kind of a perfect storm.

I am having to change the way I do most everything, especially eat and exercise. Eating is my coping mechanism. Or it was.

It’s all connected. All of the systems in our bodies. Every part affects every other. Our faith walk, as it relates to our physical bodies. Connected.

Just like we are all connected.

So welcome to my raw, gaping wound. In the span of a week since I found out about this latest crisis, I have run the entire acceptance gamut. It’s still sore and upsetting. The only way I know for it to heal is to invite others to join me in making huge changes, venting my frustration, and getting by like I always do; with a little help from my friends.

Okay….maybe a lot of help.

I’ll be writing raw. I’ll be hashing this out with words as I try to figure things out.

If you’ve stuck with me for all these years as a faithful reader, I cannot thank you enough.

God bless us, every one.

BY: Jana Greene

It’s the stone-cold middle of the night, or rather the wee hours of the morning. I’ve had a migraine for three days now, you see. It’s making sleep very difficult.

Last week was full of wonders and worries. I received some scary health news and it’s been difficult to digest. It’s given me a fresh excuse to entertain anxiety, and man oh man, am I anxious tonight.

On tap for this evening’s show is General Anxiety, hosted by Exhaustion. Primal Fear makes a cameo as well. Special guests include Low-Simmering Anger, and special guests Frustration and Depression threaten to make an appearance. All from the comfort of my own bed!

No wonder I can’t sleep.

I tell God about my worries. There is much mental hand-wringing and emotional gnashing of teeth. He already knows how I’m feeling but he is patient in listening to my ramblings. To him all my ramblings are valid, because I’m his child.

I would quiet my mind and try to meditate, only to hear the clamor of anxiety approach. I am hearing the far-away cacophony coming closer – all noise and discombobulated chaos. Horns, whistles, drums….all at once. And all on me.

I consider how very much my mental health IS like a one-man band. I’m handling several random instruments at once, playing none of them well, and oy vey! What a racket!

Music, I think to myself. I need music to calm my mind.

So, I popped in my earbuds and started with Tibetan “singing bowls” on Spotify. When I couldn’t get my Zen on with that, I listened to some chill music featuring sounds of nature. You know, like a massage therapist might play to help you relax.

But no. I was too wound to enjoy it.

I know! Georgian chants! My husband got me music at a little monastery outside of Atlanta years ago of monks reciting Georgian chants. Surely that will help get me out of my head and calm the savage migraine beast.

I tried. I gave it a good, long try. But still couldn’t disengage my mind.

So still, I felt yucky. I felt sick from worrying about my family and my health and my diagnosis. And a global pandemic. A world upside down,

“Why aren’t you soothing me, Lord?”

It was an honest question.

But by being with me, he IS soothing me.

I think he wants to BE with me, more than make it al about my obsessions and problems.

I want him to conjure up those pink clouds of blessed assurance. I want to feel delivered. But Instead of having immediate calm and zen fuzzies, I could feel him take my hand and hold it in his, where we sat and sat with each other, quiet as church mice.

And slowly, anti-climactically, I sense a peace come over me. But it’s not the peace of mended bodies, fixed families, answers, or dramatic miracles. Not the kind of peace you get from having crystal-clear resolution.

Nope, it’s a MUCH better peace.

It’s the peace of knowing my God – Creator of the cosmos – will come sit with me in my yuckiness. That’s the place he meets us.

And sometimes that has to be enough.

I can feel the Spirit over the din of the one-man band, and it’s comforting to know I’m not alone.

No chanting of monks, no singing bowls. Just the absolute assurance he is with me and in me and for me. He wants to sit with me in my funk, and he will lift me up out of it in due time.

You’re not alone either.

I pray God himself will come sit with you in the yuckiness, until that dramatic miracle comes.

God bless us, every one.

BY: JANA GREENE

Hi, my name is Jana and I’m addicted to filters.
WHEW! I feel better now.

I often say that filters are the poor girl’s facelift, and it’s true. I love me some filters. It can be good for the self esteem…or is it, really?

Every selfie or picture, I find myself honing in on the smile lines and sun damage, vitiligo, and age spots, and that’s all I see.

All I see is evidence that Father Time is stomping across my face wearing soccer cleats.

Aging is hard, y’all. And the EDS exacerbates it because my collagen is faulty amd mutated, and my skin is stretchy but doesn’t always pop back.

But I’m feeling spry and sassy today. I’m dressed, wearing makeup, and am out of the house. So after filtering the @&$%# out of the first pic, I decided to post one unfiltered next to it, because I earned every laugh line and wrinkle and inch of crepey neck and eyelid.

And while it’s fun to use technology to make ourselves look younger, it shouldn’t make us despair our unfiltered, real image as “women of a certain age.”

We’ve seen some shit and been through a half century of life experience. The tough times didn’t kill us – it made us stronger. And who cares if our faces reflect that?

I do, if I’m honest. But I’m working on self-acceptance.

Just some thoughts this Tuesday morning. ❤️

BY: JANA GREENE

One of my friends recently said something offhandedly that punched me right in the gut.

“I’m only as happy as my least happy child,” she waxed. Never before has anyone said something more relatable to me.

We live in strange times. Times that can either amp our codependency behaviors, or challenge us to fortify them.

Nobody tells you this, but lean in real close… the age of eighteen is not the “magic” age when your kids get their shit together. I don’t know who the hell came up with that number, but its arbitrary as all get-out. We are here for our kids no matter what their ages.

Children boomerang back. Mine is 28. Two out of three of our adult kids have had to move back home for a spell.

I’m very glad they have somewhere to bounce back to. I did not have a safe place to boomerang home as an adult. Nobody took care of me. I want better for my kids than I had, but I also want them to be fully independent.

Life is messy, ya’ll.

In preparing a room for her, I am also preparing my heart. Because the child who is moving back temporarily can push my buttons.. In all fairness, we both probably push one another’s buttons.

She is scrappy and feisty and “extra,”and I am scrappy and feisty and “extra”. And I don’t know how to “mom” grown children under my roof. I hate conflict, and the more adults you add to your home, the higher the conflict quotient.

Here are some ways in which I will protect my boundaries and actually enjoy the experience of having a grown child back at home:

I will not run interference between other family members.

This is HUGE for me. Keeping the entirety of peace in the house – even in a relatively peaceful family dynamic – is not my job. I will do my part, but I will not clean up after others, literally or figuratively. I hope my husband and daughter get along (as they mostly do), but I will not take ownership of their relationship.

I will set realistic expectations of myself, and of her.

As a disabled person, I sometimes need help. A lot of help. It is okay to ask for it and expect it. (Hear that, self? It is OKAY TO ASK FOR IT AND EXPECT IT.)

I will show grace and respect (and expect respect.)

It’s not the same world it was when most of us were in our 20’s. It’s much more expensive to live on one’s own. As she comes in for a landing, I will remember it’s not her destination flight that brought her home; just circumstances that will improve and allow her to spread her wings. I will try my best to be graceful and patient, while knowing this is temporary.

I will operate from a place of healthy boundaries. I’ve become accustomed to having my own space. And accustomed to meditating and self-care. These things did not come easy, and they did not come until my children flew the nest. I am protective of them.

I can be happy, even if nobody in my house is happy. I tend to calibrate my mood to whomever is feeling any type of way. This includes my husband.

I will not try to “fix”. I am present and available, but must remember it isn’t my job to “fix” anyone. Furthermore, it is an impossibility.

I will keep the faith. I will lean into God and have faith that whatever comes my way, He is only ever good. And I will have faith in my daughter, as I always have. We will get through the bumps in life as a family.

I will find the joy in this – and every – experience.

My daughter and I are exceedingly close. My daughters and I have been through a LOT together. We have legions of inside jokes, the same absurd and silly sense of humor. We talk about deep subjects, even when we don’t agree. We will make memories during this time that wouldn’t be made any other way. I will enjoy the ride!

I don’t know if these points will help you through a trying, temporary time, but writing them out is already helping me. My therapist has been helping me overcome co-dependency issues, and what better time to hone those skills?

I fell like this is not the only area of life I can avoid the potholes of co-dependency. Life is chock full of opportunities to stretch and grow.

I don’t know what age people actually get their shit together is, because I don’t have mine together yet!

And I pray God blesses you and gives you permission to not save the entire world. Because it isn’t yours to save. Life is hard and relationships are hard, and co-dependent behaviors whisper that they will help you get through it, but in reality only make it more difficult.

We are worth the effort of setting healthy boundaries and caring about ourselves and our peace as much as we care for others. I won’t forget that if you don’t!

God bless us, every one.

BY: Jana Greene

The big spiritual “thing” I’m doing is really something. And reader…I’m so glad you are sticking alongside me for the ride! I am currently reading Rob Bell’s “Everything is Spiritual,” which is a whole other blog post for another time.

I am also fortunate to be a part of a group of free-thinkers and like-minded Christ-following mystics, and we have been learning about Quantum life, the neuroplasticity of the human brain, the connectedness of each of us with every other, and other lite fare concepts. One of the ideas is that you choose your thoughts. Or at least, which ones to accept.

I have been a victim of my own thoughts all my life. I run on 100% emotions, and ergo…feelings sometime feel like facts. They are very convincing and super sneaky that way.

The idea is that I’m changing my focus from the myriad of negative, self-critical, panic-inducing thoughts I experience on the regular that result in self-flagellating and angst; and instead completely shift my thoughts on – oh, I don’t konw – things that DON’T suck.

On PURPOSE, even.

Part of this is becoming deliberate about practicing meditation and affirmations. Another part is changing my prayer life to be a type of constant conversation with God, and asking him specifically to increase my actual AWARENESS of the quantum world. My awareness of his innate goodness. The awareness of all the little ways God winks at us everywhere at every moment. Because he IS, you know. He is giving us signs and wonders, and “coincidences” and a cascade of pure, ridiculously grace-full LOVE. It’s all around us.

Which brings me to shark’s teeth.

My Beloved and I are enjoying a little weekend getaway at the beach. One of the things we love to do is go beach-combing, always with my ultimate goal being a glistening piece of sea glass or the tooth of a shark.

Any shark. I’m not picky.

The latter has proven to be extremely elusive. In 22 years of coastal living, I have only found one single shark tooth. So on our walk this morning, at this new beach, I felt sure I’d find some.

We roamed that beach for half an hour in 40 degree temperature. I had shark teeth on the brain. The beach here is littered with beautiful shells and various examples of flotsam and jetsam from the sea. Really cool stuff. I have found sea glass many times. But today, nary a shark chomper was to be found.

At this point, I am cold and sandy, with a crick in my neck from scanning the ground. In what can only be described as the Most First World Problem to ever “problem,” I was getting frustrated and perturbed.

But just before we call it, I looked down and saw what appeared to be a little heart…a shell heart. I picked it up and examined it, and it occurred to me that I almost missed it, so single-minded was I. I was only focusing on one thing, when around me is the whole big ocean, and a glorious, hazy sky, and the love of my entire life combing through shells alongside me.

I knew that the little heart was a portent.

I know because I asked for the awareness to see and know and be tuned in more to the Divine.

It sounds silly, but I absolutely knew it was a God-thing. And had I just walked in big circles on an endless beach, eyes downcast and mind focused only on one thing, I’d not have seen it.

Yes, I believe that we live among angels and that we are all connected to one another, and that the Creator of the cosmos would plant a little shell emoji on a wintery beach just to remind me where to keep my focus.

And I thought that was a pretty good analogy for where we put our focus, and how many things we miss by being single-minded. I’m the world’s worst about it.

But in asking our Source to increase my awareness of everything good and true, because I forget to look for it, what with all the wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth I inflict on myself.

Today, I hold a God wink in my pocket.

I hope you see a rainbow today.

I hope someone says kind words to you today, and I hope you give others kind words.

I hope you find a flower in frozen ground.

I hope a wave of the peace that passes understanding knocks you down into the Father’s lap.

I hope you see yourself for the magnificent bearer of love that you are.

And that things happen to you that confirm you are made of stardust.

I hope you find your seashell.

Oh, and lots of shark’s teeth too.

BY: JANA GREENE

My past and my present are as far away

As East is from the West.

Yesterday’s an illusion

Only my past address.

Don’t try to looking me there

You won’t find me in that place.

My heart’s moved on,

My head’s gone with it,

I’m in a better space.

By: Jana Greene

I know it’s hard.
I know people are pissing you off.
I know we are living in unprecedented times, and are thoroughly sick of doing so.
I know we are desperate for someone to fix it – all of it. Our local leaders, our politicians, our President…. somebody, anybody.
I know people are selfish and leaning left or right.
I know you are tired of America not being what it used to be (which for some people, is a good thing.)
But even the lawmakers and keepers don’t have the answers. They never did.
If who sits in leadership determines how you represent Christ, please consider that Nationalsim over compassion in history has been a recipe for disaster.
From Herod’s decrees to Germany in the 30’s, to even old Mom and Pop apple pie America led by The Greatest Generation, there were citizens of each who benefited from the actions of their leaders, and citizenry who found themself oppressed, or worse.
Don’t lose sight.
Don’t lose hope.
God has not given us a spirit of fear.
Yes, even Jesus got angry, righteously….as you may feel your anger is righteous.
But he kind of threw a justifiable tantrum and moved on with the business of loving people.
He didn’t stew on it for years.
The world is a #%@&$ MESS!
But it’s the world God so loved. Just as it is.
Just as we were.
We have all “had it up to here” at this point, but please try not to let it make you bitter.
The continual anger will get under your skin and fester, and like an infection, will mostly only affect you, not change the world. It will not affect the people you despise or the state of the country one whit.
Jesus was the Prince of Peace.
Surely we can shift our focus on all the ways our country and the world are effed up, to loving the least of these?
Just some Thursday morning thoughts.

By: Jana Greene

I’m in a terrible mood.
Didn’t sleep last night.
Shoulder blown out.
Systemic pain off the charts.
Worried about many things.
The next two weeks is a constant treadmill of doctors visits and medical procedures.
But God…
But God keeps winking at me, in spite of it all.
My prayers have become less “God, show me you love me” to “God, increase my awareness that you love me, so I can love others.”
The checker at Trader Joe’s this morning could not have known that I’m having a rough time. It was the standard transaction, albeit friendly, as TJ is know for. But then he plopped this into my cart. I was dumbfounded.
“Just a little something to brighten your day,” he says. I can tell he is smiling even though he he is wearing a mask. His eyes are smiling.
The flowers are beautiful, and even my favorite color!
You see, God loves us with kind acts and nature.
I felt lighter leaving the store, and popped in a CD because Music is Life. And it was a long lost CD my daughter had made for us after her senior trip to NYC, which I chaperoned. Every song had memories attached to it.
Another God wink.
God, make me aware of your love, given in abundance. Every kindness perpetrated by others (whether they know it or not) is a message from our Source.
Every cell in every flower on every tree (or in every shopping cart) is filled with the blueprint of his love. He didn’t have to make them so beautiful, but he did.
He didn’t have to make himself flesh to jump into our pain and suffering so that we are never alone. But he does.
Papa God, increase our awareness.
Increase our capacity to show kindness.
Let us see you in the beauty of your creation, which is really impressive, by the way.
It’s good to know our moods don’t get in the way of his love for us.
Although my heart still has a remnant of heaviness for the people I love who are going through a difficult life season, my prayer is that God winks at them too.
Whatever you’re going through, I know how it feels to be convinced he is not in your corner, if he even exists at all. I get it!
But please know you are deeply loved.
And the fact that we – in all our messy, chaotic humanity – can be a part of that Vis-à-Vis loving one another?
Priceless.

By: Jana Greene

Y’all, I have to share. Just got back from having the shoulder MRI. It required dye and lidocaine injected directly into my shoulder capsule, which I thoroughly did not enjoy.

But the craziest thing happened during the 40 minute MRI. Keep in mind I’m extremely claustrophobic I HATE MRIS.

I’ve been learning how to truly meditate for the last few months, and have been regularly practicing meditation. I was dreading the MRI. Even with noise cancellation headphones, it’s loud af. And such a tight a space.

As I entered the machine, my upper body was smooshed very tight and held in place; I couldn’t move an inch, and I could feel by breath bouncing back on my face, the top was so near my head. I decided to keep my eyes closed the whole time for obvious reasons.

As the machine was turned on, I felt a slight panic attack setting it. But then I figured if ever there was an opportunity to meditate, it would be now.

And hons, it WORKED. I used the techniques and to my GREAT suprise, they worked. They worked SO a well that I very nearly fell asleep in the dern thing! Loudness and tight space notwithstanding. They didn’t even give me a Valium to get thru the test as they usually do. I checked out while the MRI was going.. I went to my happy places in my mind. I floated in space. I reminded myself that I was safe, and that I was getting plenty of air to breathe and was safe. And then I transcended for the first time. My mind – and thus energy – was at Frog Holler in the hot tub. It was in Myrtle Beach with my girls. It was in my husband’s arms. And that’s where I became super sleepy and relaxed.

I have never had meditation actually work using this practical application. For 40 minutes, I was at total peace, my mind visiting all my happy places. IT ACTUALLY WORKED! For the 1st time!

I’m really happy about that! I want to live a transcendent life; one where I am not so reactionary and high strung. The more I practice meditation, the easier it is to “check out” in my mind and experience peace.

Between my anxiety and claustrophobia and ADD / OCD tendencies, I never really believed it would work. Thought it was gooey.

But it DOES! It DOES work!

I’m so grateful. This experience could have been so much worse!

By: Jana Greene

have let my self go. It started with an injury 1 1/2 years ago that resulted in months of PT and taking a break from water aerobics. Then I had old metal hardware coming through the skin of my my ankle, so that necessitated surgery, which set me back more.

So at some point – I’m not sure when exactly – I adopted a “screw it” mentality. Why even bother if I’m just going to have many more injuries? I had my little emotional tantrum that it’s just too hard battling this disease and trying to be as healthy as possible – which actually ain’t even that healthy.

Well, because I’m diabetic and aside from taking the medicine for it, I’ve been living like the ‘beetus ain’t even a thang. But in the new year, I have to get it together and lose some weight and build muscle around my crappy, loosy-goosey joints. It means starting all over. Convo between Bob and I recently:

Me: “I’m getting back on the health train January 1st.”

Bob: “Why wait? Why not just now? Why does it have to be a future date?”

Me: “Are you kidding? That’s not how this works at ALL. I need time to mentally train for a certain day. I also need time to go down in a blaze of glory. Like, between now and the 1st of the year, Imma feed my baser instincts lavishly, really blow it out. Eat what I want, with the appreciation and grieving making a huge likfe change entails…”

Bob: “…..blinking and staring blankly…”

Me: “You know how I do.”

When I quit drinking and smoking, and picked out quit dates (Jan. 1st for smoking, and Jan. 3rd for drinking,) None of that “no time for the present” BS. 😂

I went bananarama with indulging in my vices prior to my actual quitting. Like, I chain smoked for 20 hours before putting the cigs down til I felt absolutely sick. And then on Dec. 31st 2006, quit cold turkey, by which time I had allowed myself to really wallow in and accept that the times, they were ‘a changin’, and I was as prepared as I’d ever be – having obsessed about it and pouted about it, I emerged, Chrysalis-like on January 1st as a non-smoker. That’s IT. Bada bing bada boom!

For three weeks, I was MISERABLE and made everyone else miserable, but then the fog lifted, as it always does.

So in conclusion, last night, I ate Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie Ice Cream at 3:00 am. I also had chips. By 4 am, I am sitting bleary-eyed covered in junk food crumbs in my husband’s recliner like some kind of Tudor era wedding feast guest in the literal dark of night. Oh, the debauchery!

All of this doesn’t make sense to My Beloved, who suspects I’m making it harder than it has to be, but Dude, I got a process here.

What looks binging diabetic shoveling Ben and Jerry’s in her gob is actually “spirit work,”my process. My twisted form of self care.

Gotta get a last binge period in before I start watching every single macro and calorie, which I will also do obsessively, HOW DO YOU NOT OBSESS, PEOPLE!?

And because mental health reasons. (I never claimed to have my shit together, lol.)

What is your process for putting down a bad habit and changing your mindset.

By: Jana Greene

Just had one of those moments that I want to share to encourage all my single mama friends. I know it’s hard to hang on, but you’re doing better than you think and what you are doing matters.
I was a single mom of two girls – then 9 and 12 – in the early 2000’s.

I went from being a stay at home mom to working four jobs at a time at some points, and being the sole provider, keeping a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. I had no family support or encouragement. I lived on Diet Coke and cigarettes, and lost 80 pounds. (I do not recommend the Divorce Diet; it’s a terrible way to lose it.)

I had been sober for “only” 3 1/2 years at that point, and was desperately trying to hold onto my sobriety through the darkest point in my life. It is NOT I but God who was the Source of Strength.

Looking back, I don’t know how I made ends meet. Truly, it’s supernatural. The math just doesn’t work. I made $9 an hour working in a law office, and worked that job alone for months when the others dried up. How is it even possible?

I tried to make things as normal as possible for the girls. I rented a house near their school. It was a modest little house, but I decorated their rooms and tried my best to make it a home. We weren’t in a good part of town, but I don’t remember being afraid when I probably should have been. I trusted God because I had 100% no other choice. I had no help. Failure was not an option.

Fast forward to today. My oldest calls me on the phone because we like to talk once a day. I’m not sure if that makes us enmeshed or what, but she, her sister and I are very close. We were all we had for a long time and have been through a ton together.

Anyway, on today’s phone call, she says out of the clear blue that she has been thinking lately and that she feels awful for how she acted when I was struggling.

In truth, she was a handful, but also a pretty typical 13 year old. Most of them are handfuls, sassy as hell. She couldn’t have some of the things her friends had. We fought a lot. I got she and her sister into therapy and that seemed to help a little, but it was a very difficult time for all of us.

Today she said she is so sorry that she was sassy and said hurtful things. I told her that’s what 13 year old girls do. (She is 28 now, her sister 25.) She said, “Mom, I no idea about what was going on and how hard it must have been.” That she didn’t appreciate everything then, but she is just now “getting it.”

“I was a real jerk to you. I’m so sorry.”
And I told her yes, sometimes she was maybe a little bit of a jerk, but so was I. We both survived it and are closer for the struggle. And that I appreciated her kind words so much.

We parents never actually expect to hear that. Being a mom is it’s own reward; you don’t do it for any recognition. But dang, it’s nice to hear sometimes.

Because y’all….I DO appreciate it.

Teenagers (can I keep it real here?) are just awful some of the time. You cannot imagine your preciously sweet, loving kid ever morphing back into human form. But they DO.

There were MANY times I told God I could not possibly handle ONE more thing, and TWO more things would happen, and I’d rant and rail at Him mightily. When the girls needed school supplies and we were eating instant mashed potatoes and chicken nuggets for days, and ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? ….The car would break down. Honestly, sometimes it was such a comedy of errors, it felt downright conspiratorial.

But you can’t holler and be properly be angry at anyone without stepping close enough that whomever you’re telling off can hear you loud and clear. In getting close enough to push God away, I had to draw near enough to him to feel my wrath.

If he minded my own sass, He didn’t let on. And still hasn’t. He isn’t angry with your frustration either.

So, I don’t know who needs to hear this, IT IS GOING TO BE OKAY.

but YOU ARE DOING AN AMAZING JOB, MAMA. And single dads? BRAVO to you! Raising a child is super hard and one day he or she will tell you that you did a good job, even if you screwed up a lot like me.

And if your child doesn’t tell you, I’m telling you. Keep going; God’s got you! God’s got your babies. God will see you through.

And by the way, I pick up my 20th anniversary sobriety chip in January. Hard fought and won, and made possible by Jesus one day at a time.

Blessed be.

“CUTTY SARK” painting by Paul M. Kruemcke (my beloved grandfather “Papa”) Circa 1966

“And I’m bleeding, and I’m bleeding, and I’m bleeding
Right before the Lord
All the words are gonna bleed from me
And I will think no more” –  The White Stripes, Seven Nation Army

Words

like the ocean when you are standing at the end of the world

right about to fall off the edge.

Just when you think you’ve run out of sea

the world becomes round and look! 

Endless more!

More to say.

More to think.

More to write.

Units of communication,

Words,

transfused into us by our Creator.

On the waters of written language

The world takes passage in order to think.

Thought-provoking words inspire

ignite and set into motion

Kingdoms, governments and laws.

I write in order to unthink.

Unable (unwilling)  to tourniquet the thoughts

with substance or busy-ness or logic,

the flow commences with a single prayer,

“Lord, give me the words.

And lend me Your strength to bleed them.”

Words, woven together

one pitifully weak and thin thread at a time.

One narrow thread of thought,

 meaningless by itself,

white with a memory of bliss until it bleeds from the loom pink,

and then red with heartache.

Keep weaving until the thread changes to the blues of struggle

and the yellows of rejoicing,

and a million shades in between.

My history

thread by thread

word by word

becomes a sail.

Patched when torn

woven with those glorious words

for which God gives us with generous abundance.

Which God reminds us to use carefully.

To choose carefully.

To bleed wisely and weave gloriously.

Under the wind of His grace…

To sail upon.

Things have been so heavy lately, I thought I’d share a poem I wrote for our elderly cat who – for 18 years – has run through the house batsh*t insane in the middle of the night, most every night. It’s a little Dr. Suessical, but a light reprieve from the usually heavy blog fare. Hope you enjoy!

That Old Man Socks! That Old Man Socks!
He’s up all night, that Old Man Socks!
Socks, do you like good sleep and peace?
“I do not like them” Socks decrees.
“Unless it comes as mid-day nap,
Sleeping at all is utter crap.”
Socks, would you sleep instead of mew
When the moon is nice and new?
Would you please sleep all night through?
Is this something you can do?
I know you don’t like night time peace.
But humans need a few hours, at least.
Would you sleep at night on a sheet?
Would you sleep at night for a treat?
You do not like to let us sleep
So please count mice (or please count sheep!)
When we don our sleeping frocks,
It’s not your cue to go wild, Socks.
Would you pipe down in the night?
Would you, could you, please….alright?
Sleep in a box. Sleep with a fox.
Sleep in a house. Sleep with a mouse.
At nighttime, sleep either here or there.
For the love of God, sleep SOMEWHERE.

• By: JANA GREENE – TheBeggarsBakery.com

Hello, dear readers.

Oy vey, this world.  What is the DEAL with it?

As I fight my own battle with depression, I’m learning that fighting it is exhausting, like trying to climb out of a deep well where the walls are slick and there are no footholds. I’m learning to be still, let Jesus shimmy down the well to where I am, hold and comfort me, and then lift me to safety. I know He will because He always does. As surely as death or taxes.

I have recently become addicted to watching poetry slams on YouTube. I love the wordcrafting and tempo, the emotion and power that go into the slamming. I would love to write poetry for a gathering of slam fans, but I don’t really have the guts to do it in front of actual people, so I’ll just do so from my little corner of the world here at The Beggar’s Bakery, where I don’t have to stutter or worry about what to do with my face or hands in front of people.

Here is my slam of the day.  It’s my first in this style of writing. Chalk it up to a mid-life crisis.  It almost has to be read aloud, and gives little credence to punctuation and grammar and all that jazz.

It may be pure awful. Something I look back on publishing and cringe.  Trying new things is hard. But hey – that’s always a risk when starting anything new. Right?

There is no love apart from God

That being who embodies us

And shines like glass inside of us

Reflecting who He is.

Not given straight-up, tidy, neat

This thing we make about ourselves

This thing that wracks and wrecks ourselves

Spills over, out, and through.

We look at life through half-blind eyes

Despairing at the poverty

Body, mind soul  poverty

that chokes and breaks our hearts.

How can you say that God is Love?

I’ve heard asked in angry tones

Broken, acrid, angry tones

Where is He in the hurt?

Has Love gone void in this dark place

Where pain crushes the human race

This fickle, tender human race

And leaves it there to die?

But I say ‘no’; do not give in

To throwing in the towel, my friend,

The towel so soaked with blood and tears

Wring it and be free.

Chin up, all creation!

Rise up, all you nations!

And then crouch down with fellow men

And make yourselves Jesus to them,

For he is inhabiting you.

It’s not by spell of your own power

But by His Spirit enmeshed in you

The Friend he left to dwell in you

Manifesting Love for you.

Like liquid gold, let it flow

Out from the vessel and into the mold

The empty, barren, starving mold

In your brother’s heart.

We see here through half-blind eyes

Through the glass darkly in side of us

But even in spite of the dark in us,

Love takes home the prize.

• By: JANA GREENE – TheBeggarsBakery.com

I cannot be part of the solution

And the problem too.

I’m either helping others,

By what I say and do,

Or harming them with division,

Self-righteousness, and pride.

Do I want to be right or loving?

We all must pick a side.

I can’t be both solution and problem,

So I have to choose.

Because we – as a society –

Have everything to lose.

But here’s the rub,

We also have everything to gain,

By taking focus off how we’re different,

And honing in on how we’re the same.

We can’t afford all the division any longer,

If we lean into each other,

We can only come out stronger.

• By: JANA GREENE – TheBeggarsBakery.com