Church, hair, and what-not

After attending Combs St, Clint, Brittney and I realized how routine church has gotten for us.  Brittney and I dress up for church in order to not feel out of place.  Church has become so impersonal to us, so cold.  Any heart-felt feelings in church is squashed out immediately by well don't want to upset anybody around me.  I admire Yvonne for how heart-felt she is during service yet I know people are like well that's her in a well we usually have to make excuses for her tone.

Combs was heart-felt, warm and inviting.  I guess we need a new church home if that is what we have to say about our church.  I know once I follow the norm and pop out babies we'll fit right back in.  I feel estranged from my church.  I catch myself disagreeing with the sermon or with the class lesson, or notice well that's not right.  I feel like the bad guy for catching it.  Clint only likes to go when he drives the bus.  I catch myself here, like?  We're servants of God.  It's not about us, right?  We're supposed to worship despite all this and be loving and humble.  I did go to Flagstone with Drew to meet up with Kyla.  It threw me off that there were two song-leaders, one guy and one lady, with microphones.  The song service was amazing however.  The lesson was great as well.  I know I'm not the only one dissatisfied with church, besides Clint and myself.

Onto a more happy note, I have colored my hair and it is super dark.  It's going to take getting used to and I like it so far.  I'll post pictures up later.  If it doesn't grow more on me, then I'll just add some highlights and be done with it.  Getting it trimmed next week so I think I'll wait til then.  Hehehe...

Trying to figure out what I'm cooking for tomorrow night's dinner.  Coconut rum cake - Pop-pop's favorite, marinating either pork-chops/chicken in teriyaki or italian dressing, Nini's brown rice.....Clint still wants his peach pies.  I want/need chocolate chip cookies.  I love to cook.  When I cook/bake, things just seem to right themselves and fall into place where they're supposed to be.  I hate how my medicine makes me not hungry and everything taste bland.  It sucks.

I have two new cousins - one on each side.  Elaina on the Smith side would be my 4th cousin but the way me and her mom were raised she would be more like 2nd.  Weird I know.  My cousin on the Jones side just had his second, baby boy Micah.  What makes his birth more exciting is my uncle John arrived back from Afghanistan just days before Micah arrived after a 8-10 month tour.  My aunt Sylvia I'm sure is dancing around her amazing house happy as a lark.  Micah almost was born on Pop-pop's birthday.  Their birthdays are just a day apart.  He was really hoping that his third great-grandkid would share his birthday with him.

I'm so happy that my family is doing well and is blessed.  I just wish and pray that this peace stays, but I know once Dayven is able to speak the happiness will vanish as quickly as it appeared.  I pray that it doesn't.  I know my sister and my dad, I cannot help but to think that.  I worry everyday about Kevin.  I distance myself from him so he can enjoy himself and not feel like I'm bothering or pestering him.  I pretty much raised him so I tend to mommy him a lot.  I want him to grow up and yet I want him to remain content with the world the way he sees it. Clint is tired of catering to him and of helping to take care of him.  My parents fight about what to do with him, Dad's even said something about committing him to the state and how it's too bad he's not retarded enough to be.  I understand his frustration but thinking of him saying that just makes me dislike him even more.  I'm a bad Christian for back-talking my father and begging my mom to leave him.  She only talks to me about their problems in our family.  Anything that makes her happy, he rips it up or destroys it.  She is only supposed to make him happy and is supposed to be the only thing that makes her happy.    Us women are supposed to serve the man.  I still remember the day when I quoted the rest of that parable/verse to my dad.  I struggle to forgive him for it.  I have for the most part.  Thinking about all this makes me miss my Grandpa more and more.  He was fighting with dad when he was dying about how dad was going to lose everything if he didn't change.  He always had a way of making things right or of saving the day.  When my car died, dad would yell at me and call grandpa to tell him to deal with me.  Grandpa would come and see me crying.  Same thing with Kelly and Kevin - he never said much about it but he would take us for ice cream after he saved us.  I gotta stop here, I can't talk about this anymore without losing it altogether.

Gosh, I've been told I should write a book about my bizarre life.  I'm not lingering on the past, I promise.  When I think about Dayven though, I can't help but worry.  I want to protect him better than I did for Kevin and Kelly.  I like to think of my mom being happy and be able to plant whatever she wants in her garden and to have her green house room where she can play her piano all day long.  I want to be able to provide that safe haven for her someday.  I guess this is what drives me the most.  She sacrificed everything for me, her happiness, her dreams.  I know if I was not born, she would have left dad.

I smile and I wish for the days where I thought the satellites that float across the sky were shooting stars.  I remember that wish I always made.  God please take me away from here, but also take mom, kevin, kelly and grandpa too. I promise to be good.....So far most of that wish has come true.  People who went to church camp with me knew that that week was usually the best week of the year for me.  I would cry that last night of camp every time not wanting to go back. I escaped home.  I was allowed to be me and to have fun.  Now everybody from home is having babies.  Trella why aren't you having kids yet?  Do you even want them?  I reply yes I do but I think it would be selfish of me to bring one into existence without the adequate means of supporting the child.  I do not need to validate my life by popping out kids.  I want a kid don't get me wrong.  I just want to have a happy family and to not struggle being happy.  Then that's where the person is like oh so you think you are better than me.  No I don't.

I'm done venting.  Things that make me happy are my nephew with his big goofy ears, my books, painting my nails, taking my time to bake a masterpiece, picking out presents that I know that they will love, listening to music, having a good solid and reasonable discussion about the Bible.  Much much more to come.  Clint is off of work and it's time for dinner.

I pray that whatever God has in store for me to be successful.  I pray that His will not mine be done and I pray that those that I love are happy and blessed.