Jezebel diaries * Day 2 * The Whisperer

did you hear her latest mischief?
the devil knows her well,
it has to be true
what Christians must do 
is stone that jezebel

Aaahh, the rumor mill. The one industry that sadly, will never, ever run dry. Constantly fed an unending supply of non-truths, half-truths & mouthwatering morsels of maliciousness, by boring busybodies who can’t get attention any other way. The self appointed Paul Reveres of Christianity, God bless ‘em. Of course, the spreading of misinformation like soft butter on hot bread, is always with only the best of intentions. After all, people need to know what’s been said because.. well, what if it’s true? Or what if it’s partially true? Or what if it happened, IF it happened, somewhere around our community? People deserve to know. And oh yeah. We need to pray for that poor soul.

Good evening dear diary and friends, me here. Head Jezebel. I’ve been trying for a couple of days to get this entry from my head to you. Or really just “from” my head. The “to” could literally be anywhere else. But in keeping with the goal of helping someone who may be negotiating gossip gone wild, I’ll try to share this. Maybe it’s for you. Or maybe it’s been you. Maybe there was smoke and no fire. Maybe there wasn’t even a match to make a spark, but it didn’t stop life from blowing up in your face. It happens. I’ve got you.

I spend most of my time at home, these days. Not really big on some of the groupie girl things I see a lot of other ladies doing. It always looks like so much fun.. the painting classes, Bunco, Zumba. Well, actually Zumba doesn’t even look like fun to me, but there’s always a cute post with some laughing ladies who seemed to have a good time. So it crosses my mind now and then, that I wish I could do stuff like that. But I tend to stay to myself and have, for the last 20 years or so. We Jezebels don’t always have a big circle of friends.

In my Bible study group recently, we were talking about gossip and just how devastating it can be. Yet, it’s as common as breathing. Even among those wonderful, well-meaning, Godly people who are, oh so spiritually aware, that they think they can lead others to a deeper understanding of God.. but first, they’ll need to spread lots of “did you knows” and “did you hears” and “bless her hearts”. They’re the whisperers. These are the real devils of the church. That’s exactly what the Bible calls them: evil. And their most favorite meal is a juicy Jezebel story. I’ve been at that table more than once…as the meal, never as a guest. And they feed until their eyes glaze over. Jezebel Juice is food for the gods.

It took a while for me to see people like that, for what they really are. It’s a painful process. It’s a lonely process. People you once wanted to call friend, now have an actual scent. It’s a smell they can’t hide because it comes from something dying deep inside. They’re whisperers. And they smell like death. They kill the weaker of us. They kill the struggling, who are just trying to wake up one more day. They kill hope and faith. They kill the desire to stand up and try again. They kill the want to be any part of God’s church. Guys.. if that’s not the smell of death, I don’t know what is.

Luckily for myself and other Jezebels out there, I’ve figured out how to handle people who step on others to feel better about themselves: I don’t. They are what they are for a reason. They’re the devil’s creation and God’s problem. They’re nothing to me, besides people I have to try and find a way to pray for. * Insert huge frustrated sigh. * Being a Jezebel ain’t for sissies. There’s a whole lot of alone time and “oh wow.. that’s not gonna work for me”. I remove myself from unhealthy places on a regular basis. I carefully pick and choose the ones I let in my life at all. If I call you friend, there’s a reason. I saw something special in you that touched me. If I once called you friend but no longer do, there’s a reason. I saw something in you that didn’t want the best for me. One thing about the Jezebel intuition: it’s spot on every single time.

Jezebel diary * day 2 * cliff notes *the Paul Reveres of Christianity are coming both by land and by sea; *it takes the same spark to warm someone’s heart or blow up their world; *I don’t Zumba but I’ll cheer you on with my bag of M&Ms; *Whisperers are in big trouble with our big God; *if I removed myself from your situation, you lost; *Jezebels are often alone because we fought to rise above a hurtful world and spend our time with Jesus.

Jezebel diaries * Day 1 * Miriam

Good evening dear diary, she said with a nervous laugh. We begin our new adventure today: The Jezebel Journey. Catchy, right? Nothing too deep. Just me, sharing parts of my life to hopefully help someone else not make the same mistakes..or to feel better about themselves if they do. Another story just like every other story out there. Maybe mine will touch someone who needs it. That’s the goal. We are all just imperfect people, finding our way in what has become a scary, ugly, ever changing world. For those of us raised when things were, for lack of a better word, “normal”.. some of us.. like me, are struggling. I really don’t fit now, not that I ever did. I walk around confused by basically everything.

For example? I’m so confused by unbelievable skyrocketing prices, shrinking quantity, nonexistent quality and customer service (or the lack thereof). Does anybody remember customer care? When you could look for something in a store and there was a real person to help you find it? A friendly, interested someone who would make eye contact and assist making your purchase faster and easier. Some of us remember when that was a real thing. It may have even been our first job. Yes. Some of us are so old, we had a job at 16. I remember when you could drive up to the Taco Bell in Shreveport at Kings Hwy and the onramp, decide what you wanted to order without some dull, rude, mumbling voice hurrying you along, then getting your order wrong twice and still overcharging you. I remember when that was unacceptable. It’s everywhere. It’s rampant. How did we get here? Does anybody else see what I see? Does anybody care? Part of my ongoing confusion and not fitting in, is due to not conforming. We Jezebels are bad about that.

Another confusing example? This is a big one which has, what I consider, gone viral. Today I’m hurting for one of my most favorite Jezebels. My precious, precious friend Miriam. Not her real name, of course. I gave her a biblical name whose biblical counterpart has some of the same qualities. My friend is so beautiful and full of life. Her sense of humor brightens the whole day. She has a quiet faith that shines when there’s no sunlight. I look at her and see everything that I’m not. I look at her and see a sweet soul who loves Jesus. I look at her and see a mother with a broken heart. No matter how she tries to repair the relationship with her daughter, she hits a brick wall. Now mind you.. this daughter is in the ministry. Her husband is a preacher. This is a family that’s taken on the responsibility, the commitment and the honor to kneel at the feet of Christ, be a living example of His love and lead others to Him. And I’m confused. So confused. Because I know my friend. I know my Miriam, I know her “past” (trust me here.. I’ve got her beat), and I know how she’s lived for a very long time. I know her daily routine. I know her beliefs. I know how she doted on the daughter who takes such joy in purposefully causing a bleeding wound to her mother. This woman is in the ministry of Christ but somehow cares nothing for His commandments. And I’m so confused. When did serving Jesus start coming with an options package? “Oh, well..ok. I guess I’ll take the enormous church, high paying salary (that could feed so many hungry families) and all of the pomp that comes with such a circumstance. But I won’t be following The Big 10, I won’t be opening myself to God’s will, I will pick and choose exactly what I do, how, when and with whom. And no. I won’t be concerned if the Jesus example I’m showing people is a bad one. Just keep that prestige flowing. I’m too important to be bothered with Christian details”. And my sweet friend can do nothing but cry and pray. Her child pats herself on the back, so proud, every time she hurts her mother. And I’m confused. When did treating parents like something smelly on the bottom of your shoe, become the norm? When did it become a sick game to make a deeper cut with each blow? If that’s what their church teaches, then the progressive “new Christianity” is another place I won’t fit. That’s a hard pass for me. I’m pretty sure Jesus isn’t too pleased either. He went through an awful lot to give us a roadmap that’s really easy to understand, even for someone like my friend Miriam’s daughter. I’ll keep lifting my amazing friend up in prayer. I’ll also try hard to pray good things for the daughter. My friend just doesn’t deserve this. She would lay down her life, for that awful child, in a heartbeat. We Jezebels love one way .. with our entire being. 

to hear the locals whisper
you’d think she casts a spell
better be leery
she’ll catch the unwary 
this brazen jezebel

Jezebel Diary * Day 1 * Cliff Notes: *my goal is to reach someone like me .. the completely flawed in love with life and a perfect God. *I (still) don’t fit in and people confuse me. Thankfully, Jesus does not. *our economy is barely functioning and that thing once called a work ethic, is extinct. *new, improved Christianity apparently has zero to do with Christ. Therefore I will not be participating. *I wish I were more like my beautiful friend. Her love of God is strong, her faith unmoved. She hopes all things and endures all things. *we Jezebels are so easy to understand.. we are completely flawed. We know this. We are in love with a perfect God. He knows this. We believe with all our heart. We love with our everything.

* The Jezebel Diaries * a collection of stories, thoughts & insights from a really imperfect woman

Introduction

Hello and welcome. Thank you for joining me on this, my new path. I hope you find something you like, something that makes you smile, something that makes you think, something that makes you look at yourself, someone else or your world, differently. If you walk with me one day or the whole way, your time is important and I’m glad you’re here. My goal is to share some fairly interesting life experiences, a couple of outside-of-the-box viewpoints and a faith that saves me every single day. I’m not your run of the mill southern bell.. oh no, no, no. This my friends, is the Journey of a Jezebel.

I used “Jezebel Diaries” for a couple of reasons. 1. Marketing. An attention grabber. Everyone’s interest is peaked at the thought of a good Jezebel story. There’s got to be some seriously juicy gossip involved. 2. Many, many of us feel deeply ashamed for the simple sin of being too human. We’re branded by those with a more outwardly presentable life. Somehow, we’ve become the subject of calculated conversation, giving our harder, somewhat cold & boring counterparts, a reason to feel superior and interesting.. if only for a moment. We’re the Jezebels who don’t belong in polite society. And I’m waving at all of you with my soul. 

let me introduce myself 
the tale I have to tell
will paint for you
with artist’s hue
the story of a jezebel

I just started publishing my writing 6 months ago, so I’m still finding my way. At least I have an excuse with this site. I’m still finding my way in life and I’ve been at it for way more than 6 months. I’ve decided it’s quite possible that I’m a slow learner. If you walk with me, you may decide the same thing. Although, I don’t actually expect you to find any real resemblances to the biblical Jezebel. Some places call her “strong-willed, driven, courageous, intriguing, politically astute. A pagan killer with a good side”. I’d be lying if I said strong-willed, stubborn or even once or twice, hard-headed, hadn’t been used to describe me. Driven? That depends on the prize.. er.. the goal, as to how driven I may be. For example: cleaning out my 12’ x 14’ pantry requires an entire day with the goal being to make more floor space for me to vacuum. I’ve gotta say, I’m not always driven to do it. Whereas, eight hours of time with my grandkids is worth shopping at Walmart, a trip to Sonic, face painting, a makeover, making cookies and a slumber party. See the driven difference? Courageous? I don’t see it. Intriguing? I’m not that complicated. Politically astute? More than you would ever think but we’re absolutely not going there. Pagan killer with a good side? Me? I kill plants and marriages. And I love Jesus with all heart. So, I guess I’m not much like the historical Jezebel, thank God. But I still empathize with all of the other not real Jezebels out there, who are like me. There’s not a mold for us. I’ll try to give you positive insights and the reassurance that it’s not you. Whatever it is. This is a diary for all of those Jezebels on a journey with no specific destination. I hope you like it. I hope after a long day, you make this your soft place to land.

A Short Story – All Too Familiar

It always starts in the same place. It’s all still as clear as if it were yesterday. I walk in the front door. Couch is on the right. Beer bottles and wedding pictures scattered all over the coffee table. Beer for him. Wine for me. I drank white at the time.. probably Chardonnay. More beer for him. We talked. He was sad. That’s was why I was there. He was sad and said he wanted to talk. More beer. He was angry and hurt. More angry. We played darts. More beer. Hey, did I want to try this alcohol his brother sent him from another state? Sure. Ok. Just a sip or two. I trusted him. It was clear and in a clear glass. It tasted bitter. I remember everything vividly up until that point. Then that drink. Then there’s nothing. Nothing. Just a flash of some green light and a long blank space. Then I’m waking up on my bed and it’s just another day. On the surface, everything looks normal. How deceiving looks can be.

I found out what happened, the hard way. It’s not like there was going to be an easy way. I won’t go into the details. Use your imagination, then take that and tie it up, twist it into the most perverse experience no halfway sane person would ever willingly participate in and welcome to my fog. Like I said.. he was really angry. So humiliating me and my family for the rest of my life, was his solution. Sadly, if you can believe it, the actual event itself wasn’t nearly as damaging as the domino effect it caused. The pain it caused my family. Not me, my family. Like the mushroom after a nuclear explosion. It kept spreading. Is there anything juicier for a small town? Those sweet Christians who, to this very day, will not sit close to me in a group of ladies. They weren’t there. They have no clue. But I might be contagious. Better safe than sin.

It’s been so long now, but I continue to carry it. There’s not ever a day that it doesn’t cross my mind at least once. Sometimes I try to figure out what was in the glass. Sometimes I try to not think about it at all. Sometimes, like recently, no matter how hard I try, it’s forced back into my view. There’s always, always someone .. some loud, obnoxious, humpback, half-man & her gimpy, blubber-faced sidekick, just waiting to take a swing at me, but only behind my back. That’s the thing about cowards, liars & fiddlers of other people’s funds .. as long as it’s in the dark or under a rock, there’s no level they won’t stoop to. No spine. No conscience. Not even a concern that God or Karma or the universe might just circle back around on them.

People like that don’t bother me. They never have. They’re people eaters. I take a good look and figure, it could be worse.. I could be them. But I’ve never had a hump on my back. No one will mistake me for a man, even if I don’t have my makeup on. I don’t have oozing sores, knotted hands or Saint Bernard jowels that flap in the breeze if I shake my head. I have so many friends who want to spend time with me. They don’t groan and dread the day because I’m on my way. Being a people eater comes with its own set of ugly problems. I let God fight those battles for me. He knows what He’s doing. And He always has my back, no matter who’s trying to put a knife in it.

This short story really is all too familiar. Hopefully not the worst part, but the tearing people apart part. That’s common. Too common. We shower, shave & sing the love of God & mankind. Then we dig for dirt like we’re trying to win the last train ticket to heaven. Folks, there’s something bad wrong with that. No. We don’t have the right and it’s not our responsibility, to arbitrarily take it upon ourselves to “out” what we consider someone else’s shortcomings. No matter what it looks like, we just might not know all of the facts. That’s why God is who He is and we’re not Him.

I wish I could say I just quietly turn the other cheek every time this surfaces. Obviously, I don’t. But this is the first time I’ve addressed it. There are a very few things that will honestly snap my last nerve and dragging my family back through this, is at the top of the list. Let me be clear here, just so you know: I do not get hurt, upset or embarrassed anymore. Not even a little bit. Just as I’m called to do, I take it and try to use it to help someone else. If you can’t understand that, then you’re a people eater and you have way bigger problems than me. I wish you luck with that.

I’ll Meet You at The Well

WOW. I started to name this post WOW..Women Of the Well. Then I realized, it’s not just women. We all seek. We are all reaching for the next big thing to fill a void or get ahead or make a new mark or make us feel excited and alive. It’s rare that seeking anything in today’s world will coincide with the will of God. But we still want, we still reach, we still seek to satisfy what we crave. We’re all the woman at the well.

I had this beautiful vision of how my life would go. It was really special. You probably had one too. Hopefully, you got way closer to yours than I did. It’s not like I don’t still have plans for myself. I do. They’ve just changed, somewhat drastically, with the years and the miles. One of the things I plan for myself now, is to forgive me, for everything I wanted to do that didn’t happen. Even more, I plan to forgive me for the things I did that I wish I hadn’t. I don’t know about you, but for me, that’s a much longer list. And I still carry it every day. Now, I plan to take it to the well.

The last many months, I can only describe as intense. Drawn out and intense. Every detail of every situation has either been extremely painful, hard, irritating or just plain unbelievable. It’s been like living in some weird cross between Groundhog Day and The Twilight Zone, with a few pieces of silver thrown in for good measure. Not a whole 30 pieces.. just enough to add shock and interest to my scenario. It’s been a time of every contemplative emotional cliche’ ever coined. Soul-searching. Tried By Fire. Self-examination. Vow to change. You name it. It’s been a time of stripping myself down to my foundation and seeing what’s there. It’s been a time of wishing at the well.

As a woman of faith, I’m called to live a life that sets me apart as a Christian example to others. As a woman at the well, I’m the taker of wrong roads, a maker of bad decisions and an example of what you don’t want to be when you grow up. It seems like it’s been a bad habit to make the wrong roads, my only roads. Or at the very least, the ones I’ve traveled most often. I don’t know. Maybe I thought I was headed in the right direction and things changed. Maybe I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t notice what I was doing to anybody else. Maybe I figured I couldn’t possibly make any difference to anyone. Maybe I was just lost. Maybe that’s why I’m a woman at the well.

Recently, I’ve met so many new people, learned new things, gone new places and made new friends. I’m branching out. I met a woman who, I’m pretty positive, is the devil incarnate. Disease is eating her, from the inside out. Maybe that’s part of her problem. She made me grateful to be me. I met a gentleman who, for a split second, reminded me of my dad. He even joked about his bald head, like dad. And I met the sweetest, most giving woman I’ve ever had the privilege to know. She is beautiful and I will always call her my friend. I met these people on one of my recent roads. I wasn’t lost this time and it wasn’t a wrong road. But it wasn’t the right road for me, so I made a change. One of the best things about my newfound perspective is that, when I find myself on a path that’s not good for me, I know how to turn around. And head for the well.

Things are finally calming down for me. I’m pretty much figuring out each day as it comes. I’m not worried about the past or scared for the future, but I still flounder sometimes. Maybe you do too. Maybe you worry that whatever you do will be wrong, so you guard yourself and don’t let anyone in. Maybe you think your past will come back to haunt you, so you live in fear and dread. Maybe you feel like people won’t accept you, so you don’t reach out and try to make friends. I get that. I see you. I am you. But whether it was last week, last month, last year or last decade, every person in this world has taken more than one wrong road. The difference lies in what you do when you find yourself there. You can always turn yourself around and then help somebody else do the same. I’m going to make big mistakes because I’m human and that’s what I do. Jesus knew that. That’s why He meets me at the well. He knows I’ll be thirsty. He knows I’ll come find Him. He knows I’ll always come home.

I’m just a woman at the well, like you. We are all alike. We are all in this together. We can all still make a difference. If we all come to The Well.

You’re not alone. I’ll meet you there.

Matthew 5:8

Embracing Spring

I’m not sure I ever knew a real winter. I’ve been through 59 winters in my life and I never understood the first one, until now. I never even gave any thought to the changing of the seasons. Like sunrise and sunset, it was something that happened without anybody’s permission. I could prepare for it, but I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to.

Life winters are like that. They come without warning and there’s no stopping them. They can be blinding. Just as the cold changes nature every year, the darkest times in life can alter perspective. One day, you’re just trying to function, remember to wear shoes & breathe in and out. Then one morning you wake up and see everything through new eyes. It’s not something you can be plan. It can’t be avoided. It can’t be undone. Winters bring change. That’s what winters do.

I used to think the winters, or life challenges that we go through, are spaced out in some fair, appropriate, manageable way. I have no idea now, where I got that idea. Sometimes they come one after another, after another, after another. Sometimes, they hurt so much, you can’t breathe. Sometimes, they come so fast, there’s no way to recover before the next one. Sometimes, everything you knew to be real is ripped out from under you, just like that. Winter’s not for sissies.

And then comes the spring. When all of the clouds part, the sun shines again and for the first time in a long time, you find yourself looking forward. You find yourself unafraid of whatever comes next. You find yourself wondering, marveling at how you made it through. You find yourself standing up tall. You find yourself smiling at the darkness you beat. You find yourself so proud of the you who emerged from that blizzard life threw at you. You find yourself.

When you’re in the midst of your snowstorm, whether it comes in December or July, don’t ever give up. Your spring is coming. It’s bringing new life, new chances, new eyes. You’ll see things you’ve never seen. You’ll greet each day like you’re happy to see it, because you are. And you’ll finally understand, and maybe even embrace, your life winters. Now you know, they’re just preparing you for an amazing spring.