Hello again, everyone.
I am sorry I disappeared for so long. I needed some time to get used to a bout of news, chemotherapy, and surgical interventions. I apologize for my absence.
Hello again, everyone.
I am sorry I disappeared for so long. I needed some time to get used to a bout of news, chemotherapy, and surgical interventions. I apologize for my absence.
First and foremost… mommy misses you. More than anything, mommy loves you and misses you. I think about you every single night and day, I think about what beautiful little hearts you all would have been if you had been given the chance to be fully realized. I think about your smiles, your laughter, your crying and your careful determinations. I wonder about your hopes and dreams and fears. Mommy absolutely adores all of you that I’ve lost.
My last child was named Zora. She was my sweet and big little girl, my sunshine, my dawn. She was my everything in those moments, just like her sisters were before her. I eagerly anticipated her just like I did with all of my other babies, and I prayed heartily for her arrival. She was my sweetest. I bought a baby blanket in eager anticipation… I bought it for her arrival to my home. To my waiting arms. I think of her often, I lost her in late July. It’s no wonder my sweet little girl is on my mind.
Zora was my greatest heart’s last desire in my old life, before it became Yahuah’s love. Oh how I loved her so dearly. I let myself become so attached to my child. And I could see her protruding awkwardly out of my belly, a tiny little bump of extreme joy. My heart was enamored. She was my little dawn. I could never have dreamed of a more perfect little bump than the one I had for my sweet, adorable little Zora.
Then there were my two little “twins”, so close together they were. My amazing little Tiny and my heart’s love, Little. They were before my Zora, my Z, they were the beginning of the last of my fruits. Oh how I absolutely adore them both! Little has a special, deep place in my heart. Tiny has her own little nook, wedged between her sisters, caught up in my love just like they are. But Little… she was the first big girl. She took me by a wave of surprise and I loved every single second of it. I was never afraid or uncertain… I always wanted them all. Oh how much I treasured Little. Her sweetness was all encompassing. I lost her in October, the 13th, and I lost a piece of my heart right with her.
Oh, but how could I not speak of their biggest sister, Anastasia? She was my oldest, now 11 in these years that have flown by. My delightful and spunky princess. I carried her for 7 months before I could no longer go forward with the pregnancy due to health complications. She was my entire reality, my entire world, my entire heart. She’d be 11 this year. Momma always put her first before everything, trying to save her from a life of of pain and torture. I lost her though. And the day I lost my first child was the day I lost myself, in a way.
I’ll never stop loving my little brood of girls (or boys, but in my mind I always thought of the children as girls due to my first being a sweet little princess.) I never got to hear them crying for me, or singing nonsense songs, I never heard their laughter or their screams. I held my Anastasia and I wish I’d never had to let go … and a part of me never has.
How much I love my sweet children. I could never write the entirety of the depths of my love because I’d never stop writing. My children were my every single thought and my every heartbeat.
But I stand at the eve of my final trade off. My children for another’s. Mommy misses you all more than life itself. Without you, mommy has been like a sailboat lost at sea with no hopes of returning to shore. And now without my uterus, even the most expensive forms of biological reproduction will be absent to me. But cancer has eaten you all alive and I am desperately so sorry for the pains mommy has caused you all.
Mommy loves you. Mommy is extremely sorry for all the pain she’s put you all through. I wasn’t good enough to be your mother on this earth, but Yahuah is with You all, and I hope you’re all playing nicely with your Elder Brother. I pray that I make it to your world, the world of the Wakened, I pray that we meet again and I will shower you all with the hugs and kisses you never received but that you all deserve. You’re all my dearest loves. I hope to be there soon for you all.
You see, mommy lost her heart when she lost you. I’ve been investing the last shard of it that I have in Yah’s instructions so that you all may have the best life that I could never provide for you. As much as I want to see you… it will be enough to know you all are sleeping together and safe. Away from this world and it’s evils… all together, all loved beyond any measure.
Someone in this world adores you all, someone in this world misses you every single hour of the day. Someone in this world prays for you.
Yahuah, take my children and give them the best of Your love, if I can request it at all. I’ll never be able to have any further children of my own body, but these are the ones that I give to you. I know you cherish them just as much, if not more, than I do… but it’s so hard for a mommy to let go of her baby’s hands.
Today’s reading comes at the eve before my hysterectomy.
Overwhelming fear has shot my nerves and my heart. I am trying to read the Scriptures to calm myself down but my hands are too shaky. So, instead I am packing up things and trying to get my mind off of everything with the humdrum of routine.
Am I to go for You? I willingly submit myself to Your desires, Father, I shout “Here I am!” Though I try my hardest to be cleansed and prepared for Your loving hand I am still afraid that I am not good enough in the back of my heart. My anxiety gnaws and gnashes its teeth at me. I bite my cheeks and draw blood. (A newer habit formed to release some of my pent up energies, though not the healthiest.)
Ready or not I have to be ready for the journey that awaits me in every sense of the word – the physical drive, the mental route, and the emotional toils. I’ve been mourning my ovaries still and now it’s time for my uterus to go too. A tiny part of my heart whispers I’ll never be happy again. My hands tremor so much I dropped my coffee cup this morning. A huge part of me doesn’t want to go. It feels like I am walking to the electric chair, taking the long stroll down to the end of the world. The end of my world, my desires being ripped out by the careful instruments of robotics today.
The end result is I am afraid. I never liked to be afraid, I am a machine when it comes to emotional turmoil. I kept my head above water for other disgusting violences… but this is somehow different. I know what I am walking into and I know my biology/body will be forever altered. My vine will no longer produce fruits of the womb. I wince when I think of the term, “bearing good fruits” because I always took it to mean that we bear children, our good fruits, and the ones who couldn’t and who bore bad fruits were burned. I understand it’s a faulty interpretation… but I have a pained heart recalling those verses.
It shouldn’t be a matter right? I know my Father is watching over me. I know all is according to His timing. I wish I had someone to talk to about this right now. I wish I had a hug. I’m trembling off and on. I like to pretend I am doing okay and I can handle all this though the truth of the matter is that I am a scared little mouse in the jaws of a murder machine, at the mercy of people I’ve never met before.
I have my bag packed and unpacked and packed again. Is my entire life going to be stuffed into this backpack, the final items I’ll be found with? I’m overthinking again. Will they just throw them out because I have no next of kin, just like my ashes? I hope they give my teddy bear to someone who needs him.
I’m rambling but I think that that’s what I’ll do before I get going. Just ramble and ramble my anxieties into this blog because that’s what it’s meant for. To have a record of my life that I can shakily write my fears and dreams. Yahusha will guide me of that I am sure. I am a timid person attempting to stand in the way of the worst thing that I ever believed that could ever happen to me. In the back of my ears I hear him telling me I fucked up, I hear I’ll never have this, I hear you’re a terrible mom, I hear all the things that foretold this moment. This horrible, terrifying, all encompassingly dreadful surgery. I never wanted my paranoia, my loathsome fears, to be true. I never wanted them all to be right.
I’m packing up the things I need, and I am jittery with worry.
I have the strangest of feelings. I don’t know why I feel like things are going to end so quickly. I don’t know how to best prepare for that kind of thing you know? I am packing socks and tie up pajama pants with loose and breathable fabric. A teddy bear for cuddle company. My Scriptures for safe guarding my spirit.
I’m just probably overthinking things. Today was an odd feeling.. Today was a very displaced one. I read all day and rested my body. I felt an unusual disconnect honestly. I don’t know where the anxiety came from. I guess it’s pretty typical to get major freak-outs the last weekend before major body surgery.
Thank you Yahuah for the blessings only You can bring to my heart. Thank You for the strength and understanding to walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. I will fear no evil. Thank You.. though I don’t deserve the love You give me, I thank you over and over for it. I will sing Your name for the rest of my life.
Home is a sensation more than it is a physical place. I was moved a few times in my short life from area to area but the ranch lands always stuck like a sore thumb in the backgrounds. I grew up in the sunflower fields and corn stalks. I played in the plowed soil. Land was plenty and houses were still far away from our ranch.
I went to the place I last thought of as my childhood home and found it achingly empty. So I stood in the plowed fields and wept. Home was gone. The places I thought of as a home base for my wild spirit had evaporated like a puddle in the scorching sun. Just when I broke and needed it the most, needed the weathered window panes and comforting yelps of the dogs… it was FOR SALE BY OWNER.
I cried for who knows how long. Time in the fields is ruled by the path of the sunlight and my eyes were too watery to watch it glazing by in the sky. Home is a sensation, a piece of your heart that continually changes to set the pace of your life. Where was home for me now…? My childhood was up for sale yet again and vacant. It’s familiar sounds were all muted and strange.
I walked along the dirt road as far as my feet would take me. The fields were bare due to the heat and lack of service by experienced farm hands since COVID19 had swept the nation. The smell was stale soil and thickly humid air. Where was my home? Where would I come and share moments of comfort and familiarity now? I didn’t realize how much I’d missed my living room couch and my oddly painted walls. Where was home now?
I knelt in the dirt and I prayed my heart to Yahuah to help me find my answers. I felt like a little lost balloon, bopping and weaving between the clouds… ready to descend and die any moment the wind changed.
For the last year my heart has been with Yah, learning and rediscovering new and strange parts of myself that I’d forgotten or neglected. I’d obeyed His laws and observed His feasts. The answer was incredibly simple: My home was Yahuah. My familiarity was Yahusha. No longer would I be tied down to a physical location of my biological birth… no, the cords had been severed and my body free-fell aimlessly headlong into cancerous care and sickened injections. But the death of my family home meant the birth of my REAL Parent’s home. my Father’s Wakened World that lay ahead in the plowed fields just out of finger’s reach.
This ranchland had always been my skin and my flesh. The live stock were always my blood and my routine was my muscle… the morning ambling from shed to shed to let them all out to pasture, milk, feed, wash, dry, repeat. From the time I was a child, I was un chica de granja, My family worked the orchards and I picked the oranges and cotton buds right alongside them. I was taught how to filet fishes, tame and break horses, ride bareback and saddled, butcher and skin the various livestock… I learned it all. These were my vital organs for so long.
But now, my organs were pitted with alien speckles and growths. My hometown was no longer mine… and it felt freeing. I was free from the sexism, the racism, the pain and violence it all bore upon me. Though… it would never erase the memories and scars my hometown had left decades earlier…. it was a new start to continue to seek Yahuah’s love. He removed the familiar to make room for the Fresh, the Wakening, all that He provided.
The world is violent and it is terrifying. I’ve lived through disgusting acts besotted upon my being and my bones. But Yahuah is here to take that all away from me and to gift me with the World should I earn my place in it.
That’s what I’d learned this past year and I’d done my absolute best to stay with it. The world’s violences threaten me constantly with new tumors and news that breaks my spirit down over and over again… but I try to get back up as often and quick as I can.
But the time is coming and I know it deep inside of my core. The time is coming to go Home. I don’t want to look at it in the face because it’s a terrifying ordeal to transition through…. but it’s there. The clock is ticking faster and faster and it’s replaced the beat of my heart. The time is coming to go Home. I knelt in the soil and felt it slip past my fingers as I fumbled with the uneven terrain. I let it all go. He wanted me Home soon. And I’d give myself over to His will because that was the right thing to do.
Home is a sensation, a comfort that we seek in times of crisis. Mine was no longer of this earth, of this violent reality, but something and someOne greater than anything this reality could ever provide. Home was Yahuah. Home IS Yahuah. And I wish that so many people could see that, maybe then they’d learn to love one another and fear His Name. How much I’d wanted to share what I’d learned about His love… but no one listened. The nurses did, kindly, let me rattle on and on. One even read the Scriptures to me while I rested my head during an infusion. But the world wasn’t ready for His heart yet.
Home is where your heart is. My heart is with Yah… I felt the wind press through the bald patches in my hair. Home was not cancer, nor the treatment center, nor the hospital that I’d come to know so well. My abdomen ached. I had been here before, years back, and I wondered how far the progression of my cancer had been when I’d last been sitting on this field. I stared at the flat earth that encircled me with distant trucks and plows and tractors lazily bustling by. And it all felt too alien.
No…. no longer was this my home. This town that had raped and pillaged my innocence. This violent and terrible bubble of a world that had condoned my beatings and my submission to a man unkind and unruly. Though I loved these fields and these ranch lands, it no longer felt like my heart’s sensation of home. It felt so freeing to stand in that soil and take one last look around. I wiped the earth from my knees and I thanked Yahuah for His words in my spirit.
No longer would I ever venture back here. It was no longer of any importance to me… no longer of any use. It was no longer my home.
I’m packing up for my surgery and my road trip… but I am unsure of what exactly to bring. I already have my clothes and my pajamas ready for the transition, my Scriptures, and some socks. What else would I bring to this?
I don’t know exactly how long I will be checked in to recuperate. Last time it took a few days before I was released so I want to be sure I have everything needed to be … comfortable with what’s going on.
Any suggestions, world?
…things to think of and do before all of this collides.
…evils of the world that held me down and raped the innocence from my bones and my sinews, ravaging what purity there was left in my core.
… hopes for the better life that awaits when we Waken…
That’s all I recall. Count Backwards from 10. A Life-story of SeraYah, the dawn that evil tore down.
I’m tired of all these appointments and these late night vitals checks. I’m exhausted of the blood that pours out and ruins my pants for the evening. I cling my hardest to my Father and hold fast to hope that He will deliver the world from the birthing pains that encompass us all these days.
There’s so much more to do and to prepare with just a week left to count it all backwards. Hours to go be sliced open and days to recuperate enough to come back on my own. My own… on my own. I never wanted to be on my own for these kinds of things. I always wanted someone to sit next to me during it all and tell me it’s going to be okay because Yah will guide us. But that’s not the case. I have to be my own defender and my own strength yet again in my life. I wish things were different but I have grown to just accept that this is the way my reality is. And that’s okay. It has to be okay.
Count backwards from ten. Can you tell us your name?
In the back of my mind I wonder if I knew that something was horribly wrong all along which is why I avoided going to the Dr for years. I was afraid on a subconscious level that everything would definitely come crashing down and the visits would be the doorway to it all. But I didn’t understand even if I did know there was something deeply wrong. I barely understand now.
Count backwards from ten… 9 works and wonders that Yahusha performs so that the world will glorify its proper Father, Yahuah. 8 brothers and sisters gathered together to celebrate the feasts of our Father… 7 days of laughter and pain under one roof. 6 things I will never experience in my life.
Can you tell us where you’re from? Do you know what year it is?
It’s the year of terrible agony, horrible and devastating losses and ruptures around the globe. It’s the year evils have pervaded and perverted the reality that is today. Yah, can you find any good left in this world? May the reality find You and find Your love quickly. Though I think it’s too late for that anymore.
Count backwards from ten… can you tell us your name? My name is pain and my reality is cancer. My name is “Come to exam room one” and “Hold your arm steady for me please”. There’s so much in the world I was already afraid of and my body shouldn’t be an additional worry… but here we are.