The Joy & Pain of a Broken Empath

Empathy. Many days, it's awful. Being a broken empath? Nearly unbearable. I understand the "gift" of empathy. I understand that those of you who connect with my writing & have encouraged me to *finally* finish my memoir -or any book for that matter- see the spiritual gift of empathy in me. Being able to see & speak into the pain of others is a tremendously beautiful gift God has graciously allowed me to have to make my sista-frans & beautiful brothas a bit more at home in a world full of rejection. But. Empathy is the taking on of others pain. And I am a "high empath." Which means I'm feeling another's pain *almost* as if it were my own. If I'm closely connected to someone who's pain is unleashed in irresponsible ways, I am literally absorbing toxicity much like the dude on the 1st season of Heroes who absorbed others powers after he killed them, except I don't kill people so there's that. I digress.Yesterday I had a safe space conversation in which I ran through … [Read more...]

I Am at Peace

After years & yearsof angst & soul crushing sorrow,I am at peace.What I've been through to get here......seems downright unmentionable.Peace born from resolve,is greater than happiness.But also, surprisingly there’s happiness too!I am so in love with my husband.My boys are priceless, rowdy treasures.And the joy of a bonus daughter?What four on earth could be more beautiful?I'd give them the sun, moon, stars & the ocean,each & every one.There’s something different about this love I’m receiving,this love I’m giving...its overflowing & going outwildly.I'm softening to enemies,previous abusersand just regular old shitty, inconsistent friends.This love is overflowing & going outwildly.I’m learning to practice this: love anyway.I’m rejecting petty,because, God’s daughter.I’m longing for peace & reconciliation,in new, in confusing ways.I don’t know the “how” just yet,let me live,let me learn. … [Read more...]

What Makes My Christmas Merry

Whose are you God?I am hers.She. The one who wants to be raped. Beaten. Pillaged. She does not want a man to make love to her. No. She wants to be screwed. It ain't pretty. It ain't romantic. It does not feel good. It does not need to. These are blurred lines. He knows she wants it.  Do it like hurt.I am hers.She. The one who does not want to be raped. But there she is. Raw. Red. Pulsing. Terrified.  It is finished.I am hers.She. The one who's husband left. He made her believe he loved her.  She thought she was somewhat worthy, somewhat loveable... Her reality is no longer. She's rocked.  Until hope comes, she's done.I am hers.She. She buried her Mama at 9.  She sat with her 13 siblings while they carried & laid her most treasure in the dirty ground.  Her existence sucked out from underneath her feet.I am hers.She. The whose husband beat, beat, beat her down. She got up but ultimately he won.I am hers.Whose are you God & for whom did … [Read more...]

The Ultimate Blog Party – Come on In, Peeps +Tweeps, Lurks + Blurks!

What it is, yo.Sing the following words to Miley Cyrus' Party in the USA': So, I put my hands up their playin' my song, the butterflies fly away... ay-ee-ay-ee-ay-yay-ah, there's a party at gabbingwithgrace, ay-ee-ay-ee-ay-yay-ah, there's a party at gabbingwithgrace! =) … [Read more...]

The One About Why I Shouldn’t Date Demons. (Or Want to Run off & Marry Them in Vegas) Part 1 of 2

I'm pretty sure my past has caught up to me.Back when I was in undergrad, a boy I loved broke up with me and I lost my marbles.  Of course,  I'm thankful now that he gave me the old heave-ho, but back then it forced me to face demons that frankly, scared the bejeezus out of me.  My neck started killing me, I had panic attacks and was severely depressed.  At the time, I didn't believe in "depression," thinking I was calling a spade a spade: a really frackin' bad breakup.  I remember once my best friend asking, "Soooo, you have no hope and you want to die everyday and you feel like you can't go on another minute and that no one has ever really loved you?""Um, yeah.""Okay, then I'd say you are officially depressed."I went to therapy.  Three weeks -three sessions later- I immediately ducked for cover.  Literally, I hid under the covers for three days trying like hell not to kill myself. … [Read more...]

So this is Love.

The hubs asked my son what he loved most about me, so they could make me a beautiful kitchen hand towel to present to me on Christmas.The hubs had Ran draw me a picture, took notes on what Ran said, compiled, printed & ironed onto the towel.My sweet son says that what he loves most about me is... … [Read more...]