A sticky death dirge

It’s 9:27 pm do you know where your voices of condemnation are?

Mine droned the death dirge all the way up from the back forty in the course of a 12 minute shower.

The shower is where it all happens for me.  Words come together with either the power to quiet my soul or to wreck my resolve to live intentionally.

A DVR  of my day repeating in excruciatingly slow motion every conversation.

I think of responses I’d never be witty enough to come up with in real time – some sort of blessing, I’m sure.

Solutions to problems I’ve been dissecting for weeks and  will forget as soon as my skin dries.

Answers to questions……. that no one even asked.

Voices screaming that every detail of the day could have, should have been better.

That errand? Yep, should have done it yesterday, tomorrow morning will be a disaster.

Why on earth did you ask that?  Don’t you know what an imposition that is?

The projects I tackled, words I chose, tone I used, motive I had, sometimes my choice of laundry… should have done the reds, people will need red this week if only for the  solitary reason that I didn’t Pick The Reds.  When will  I learn?

Needy.  Bossy.  Wordy.  Presumptuous.  Pushy.  Wimp.

I said……..and so she said………and she’s going to think………and I should of……… ending with a huge huff and a giant internal eye roll followed by a cheek flapping head-shake  I’m hoping  will knock all those voices back to the edge of the property where they belong.

You name it, the voices in the shower tell me it was wrong.  And by 9 at night, wrong feels like failure

Abject and utter F.A.I.L.U.R.E.

No corner of my existence is exempt from a strip-down.

All voices with one sole purpose, to break down my connection with God who wants to whisper truth into my soul  And really, when that connection is lost, every other relationship in my life doesn’t work.

God calls them voices of condemnation and Brene Brown would follow that condemnation is rooted in shame.  I think God sent Brene here to unpack it all for us simple folk.

The voices are based in shame and shame is based in fear and fear keeps us from engaging with other folks and lack of engagement  leads to isolation , which means that we’re left alone, with the voices we hear in our heads.

They get louder and louder and drown out the Voice of the only One who matters in the first place.

The One who put us here to learn from relationships. And learning can be like cleaning up strawberry jam with a dry towel.  You might not see the jam, but the clear layer of junky gunk left behind will catch every sweatery fuzz and cracker crumb within 2 feet.

When I’m not listening to  the only voice that matters, every relationship in my life gets stuck in jam junk.

And I have a choice.

To let the words of condemnation stick to my heart and keep me from relationships that were meant to heal me or dismiss them with a word of Truth and watch them drip right down that drain.

9 thoughts on “A sticky death dirge

  1. Understand !! This part especially :The voices are based in shame and shame is based in fear and fear keeps us from engaging with other folks and lack of engagement leads to isolation , which means that we’re left alone, with the voices we hear in our heads.
    I have lived it, i understand it all and still live in the shame , fear, isolation at times. That was my whole life growing up . I feel what your feeling and expressing 🙂 I too express a lot of my feelings in a journal just to try and gather all my thoughts and to make sense of it all . Have a great Thanksgiving Marcy !

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  2. I’m reading a book called The Cure: What If God Isn’t Who You Think He Is And Neither Are You? I think the authors understand the shower talks. You might want to take a look at it. And I agree, Brene Brown is nothing but a gift from God!

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  3. Pingback: Falling apart for the sake of Real. | Marcy Holder

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