08 Jun

Growing Guts


Greetings peeps. It’s Monday, another week in this wonderful world begins, what are you going to do with it? Let’s talk changes, change is good, it is a catalyst for movement and I like things to keep moving. Performance driven to a fault but I like to track things, I found the value in lookbacks long ago.

I ran across a video last night of a Mom speaking about her now deceased son. His photo showed a camo hat and a sheepish smile, way to familiar for me. I often have spoken of the ordeal in removing my son from the “system” that fails and this story of bulling is one that never ceases to pull me from my mediocrity to listen closer. I have never really spoken about my own school experiences but have prayed and put the demons and ghosts those memories stirred up in their places.

By the 5th grade I had changed schools 3 times, I made it to Dalmatia Elementary long enough for half of 5th grade to be thrust into the world of middle school. Our house was very different from my peers homes. I had 57 year old parents at 13 and had moved 3 times, I was unsure of everything, naive and curious. We had no TV for years, never vacationed, grew and raised our own food, I wore hand-me downs and rummage sale clothes, was educated on rummage sale books, mysteries and fairy tales, we lived by the Bible, and I spent my free time with my neighbor who was like a gram to me. My summers I frolicked around in the pastures playing with cows, spun albums, read books in the sun and wore dresses and hats. I was the #1 fan of my Daddy, he was my idol and I was his shadow. When we lost our farm life turned very fast into small house and lots of free time and lots of distance. Our family began to fall down.
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My dad although we did not realize then was aging and slowing, mom was working and I began to have a  social life. I spent alot more time with other people and did not always meet acceptance. I was a new girl and things move alot differently for imports, and my story is not so much the kids, I hung out with boys (I still do), they were way cooler, I never got the prissy act. But the school, where the teachers all know each other and are homies, that was my bully.

I got bit by what was thought to be a spider in the summer of my 9th grade and my health struggled, I also met peer pressure then too. I began using alcohol to fit in by then too, so perhaps that was why I did not care that they would not help me. I had a socail life with by hangin out with my older sister and made mature friends. I was seeing doctors who were clueless, they had me on medications and I was very sick and very depressed, I began to do badly with my grades. I was an individual, not a follower, never an A student but I was a good student and obeyed in school.  I remember though missing a birthday party for a girl at that time and I was absent. So to punish me they smeared cake all over the inside of my locker, my books, my things. I remember being on my knees in the hall, crying and cleaning it and being laughed at. I don’t remember alot from that time except how unwanted I felt. My parents were scared and really there was not alot of help, the doctor even wrote a letter to the principal, my Dad went in many times and met with him face to face. A brick wall of no is what they got. I was struggling, trying to go, ending up in the nurse and going home, my Dad asked them to help us, they said no and he signed me out to enroll me in home school.

His story was peers with black on their souls, mine adults who were ruthless and not compassionate, either way, not cool. Who gives one person the right to look upon another and make any judgement about who they are? I love the position of one man on this, my best friend Jesus.

He was unapologetically an individual, after all there is no other Son of God. He was an man who was realized and lived with a clear and focused intention, to love. He walked among the commons, something out culture has long forgotten and He reached for the cast offs. I sit and just read the book of John at times to walk beside Him for just the afternoon, to hear what He said, to watch His ways with people. He is awesome, so much love and wisdom. He pointed at liars and frauds with his words, he understood we have to sacrifice for others. This changes us into humans that look like Him.

I was born without bias, I simply never knew it. I thought everyone was the same. It has been not an easy experience here on earth for me. Yes I speak as a traveler, a visitor here, and yes I am. I have always known I am not meant to stay here and have always had the sense that human beings will do themselves in. So by the time I reached 47 and life had fallen apart it was really not hard for the Heavenly Father to convice me that He was indeed very real and it was I that had wandered away from Him, He is as He was when I was 10 and my mind unencumbered.

At this point I am no more popular, actually less. My ways, my words, my ideals, my crazy love for God is not trendy. But I have learned, oh have I learned about how the human race falls down on this daily. Parents, yes I speak to you, racism, gender bias, bashing anyone different, is all learned behavior. I never saw my parents hate, they were not perfect, they made mistakes and none of it matters, what matters is me and how I act. So today I have no hate, even for those who heap it upon me, it is foreign to my human character. I was made for love and that is what I will do.

I had to learn how to love myself again, when you chase grace and fall flat your vessel can take some dings. Add high heels and vodka and scars happen, we don’t go there anymore.

When I did, you know begin to love me,  suddenly other peoples opinions melted, fear melted, shame melted. God gave me this beautiful thing named Terry, he drilled it for years, “Marla, they don’t matter” he is an angel in training, I married him  nine years ago, next week is our anniversary.

I want every kid to know this, from one ugly duckling, (which along with Charlottles Web was one of my favorite stories), to another… Don’t listen to the haters.

When you were little, before the voices began to tell you how to do things and what to say, who were you? Old souls just happen, they are the golden lining to life.  I pray for the underdogs, the cast offs, the one who feels like less than acceptable. God made you with a purpose, but He doesn’t tell us what that is. The world says it is cool to fit in but God wants you to stand out.

Brave warrior, courageous soul, be strong little flock. Dare to be different, be an personality of your own. Ask God to help you discern your gifts and read the Bible, I promise you it will come alive. No interperetor needed, just show up, shut up and ask to be taught. You must believe though and live upright, be above reproach. That means we wear the shoes of peace and forgiveness is our crown.

Ragamuffin hearts we are, tattered and worn but the Healer has the balm, He waits for you.

Psalms 147:3 NKJV) He heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds.radically loved


Much love…Marla

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