Sunday, July 22, 2007

The Unpretty Moment

I sinned.
And it had something to do with this piccha.

I love this piccha. I took it the day I bleached my hair. I bleached my hair for my husband. You may not be able to tell from this photo, but I was wretchedly miserable the day I took this picture. I had told Ken I was going to separate from him, and I hadn't made such a drastic decision in 10 years of our 11 year marriage.

Sometimes you change something on the outside because it just seems easier than all the stuff that needs repairing on the inside. I took the picture because Ken and I were barely speaking to each other. I wanted to stun him. I asked the girlfriends how it looked. I told them it was my last ditch effort to get his attention. I wanted to look pretty. I had to lie down in my bed and hold the computer just so to get the lighting effect right. The camera on my iMac is kinda crappy. The light in my bedroom is not so hot. I wanted the piccha to look good. The girlfriend's were all praying. They thought I did good.

Tonight, for whatever reason, after a long day of work, I had an unpretty moment. I thought of someone I should not think of. Ever. I sent this piccha to him. No text. Just this piccha. I have had my heart broken by this person more times that I like to think about. His foot print is imprinted on my heart. If I were capable of hating a human being, he and demon lover would be the very two humans I would hate, and he never laid a violent hand on me. But he did damage, lovies. A lot of damage to this woman's soul. I had this strange moment of anger and I sent him my one damned pretty picture. My best shot. Just to show him. I don't know what it was. Maybe for a moment I just wanted his approval. Something. But you know. I won't get it. And after I pushed that send button I knew it. He won't think I'm pretty. Not at all. And then I got so sad, and angry at myself for that moment of weakness. And even as I type this I feel so sad that I'm just crying for Mair because there are some people who don't deserve my attention and I just keep giving it to them anyway. And that's just tragic.

Yesterday, at Art Fair, I picked up this booklet about Padre Pio, and it had this wonderful prayer in it that touched my heart so much, and today, oddly, that same prayer came in the mail unexpectedtly, from a whole different source for me today. I don't think there are any coincidences in the kingdom of God. Not that kind. So, it has to be my prayer. It sure does work for me, especially in this very unpretty moment right now.

My brothers and sisters in Christ. Forgive me for such a silly, foolish error in my most unpretty moment.

Here's my, and Padre Pio's prayer:

Stay with me, Lord, for it is necessary to have you present so that I do not forget you. You know how easily I abandon you.

Stay with me, Lord, because I am weak, and I need your strength that I may not fall so often.

Stay with me, Lord, for You are my life, and without you, I am in darkness.

Stay with me Lord, to show me Your will.

Stay with me Lord, so that I hear Your voice and follow you.

Stay with me Lord, for I desire to love You very much, and always be in Your company.

Stay with me Lord, if You wish me to be faithful to You.

Stay with me Lord, for as poor as my soul is, I want it to be a place of consolation for You, a nest of Love.

Stay with me, Jesus, for it is getting late, and the day is coming to a close, and life passes, death, judgment, eternity approaches. It is necessary to renew my strength, so that I will not stop along the way and forget that I need You. It is getting late and death approaches. I fear the darkness, the temptations, the dryness, the cross, the sorrows. O how I need You, my Jesus, in this night of exile!

Stay with me tonight, Jesus, in life with all its dangers, I need You.

Let me recognize You as Your disciples did at the breaking of bread, so that the Eucharistic Communion be the Light which disperses the darkness, the force which sustains me, the unique joy of my heart.

Stay with me, Lord, because at the hour of my death, I want to remain united to You, if not by Communion, at least by grace and love.

Stay with me, Jesus. I do not ask for divine consolation, because I do not merit it, but the gift of Your Presence, oh yes, I ask this of You!

Stay with me, Lord, for it is You alone I look for, Your love, Your Grace, Your Will, Your Heart, Your Spirit, because I love You and ask no other reward but to love You more and more.

With a firm love, I will love You with all my heart while on earth and continue to love You perfectly during all eternity. Amen.

And I'll say one more time, because I don't think you said it enough Padre Pio, STAY WITH ME JESUS.

Amen, Amen, Amen.

Thanks for listening, y'all.
silly, ridiculous, very human and frail Mair
p.s. I dyed my hair black again two days ago. I was so over being blonde.


Heather Diane Tipton said...

I love you so much, my dear dear friend!

Love that prayer too

spwriter said...


I know all too well of the unpretty moments. I've had more than my share (way more) these past couple of years.

And that a very basic level it's sorta like the inspiration for my blog, Counting on Whales. In the middle of the heartache, and on either side of a sinful choice, all I want is to know that God hasn't abandoned me.

And just like that whale does in the movie Cast Away, God shows up when he chooses - to let us know he's not far, or to remind us he's watching, or to say by his presence, he cares. And other times he shows up to bring hope or redemption.

Of course the Garden truth is you're not alone in your weakness or your sin. I'm right there with you, along with the rest of humanity.

I suspect God is there, too, somewhere just below the surface in your little corner of this screwed-up ocean called life. I pray he sprays you with living water soon.

It's what I'm counting on for me, too.

Joni said...

Thank you for sharing, Mair. It's hard to be real with your readers. Yet I know that I, for one, can totally identify.

The prayer is so beautiful. Stay with us all, sweet Jesus.

Elysa said...

Loving you, Mair, and praying, too. Thanks again for being real and encouraging me in my relationship with Him.

Paula said...

May you see how beautiful you are. Down deep. Everlasting beauty that never goes away. Inside and out. You are beautiful to me and beautiful to Jesus.

I love you, Sistie.

Christine said...

Mair - I've been so un-pretty and downright mean/ugly to my man at times. Thank you for your honesty.

I've been silent on chicken-scratch b/c I lost my dad's eldest brother, my dear uncle Gerry this past week. It's been a time of reflection, meditation and prayer. Am back now and looking forward to getting into the swing of things.

Sending you a big virtual hug, XINE

Marie4thtimemom said...

Hey Mair....

That prayer really spoke to me, as well! I've never heard of Padre Pio, but he sounds like a cool guy. Definitely one with his priorities in order! Unpretty moments? Lord knows, we've all had many of them and can fully sympathize. Your vulnerability and passion for the Lord is inspiring.

nathan Hov said...

Mair, Been there done that. The prayer a reminder of our needs. This is kinda the driving force for my manuscript -

Possible intro: Love is a funny thing. It is something we all strive for, something we all hope to attain, but cannot grasp in its complexities. On one hand we feel deep within us an expression of what love is, this, being deep with-in our central emotions: we laugh, we cry, we hurt and we swoon.

On the other hand it is an invisible force we cannot explain and fumble to communicate as an outward expression. Love, by and far is not tangible. What I mean by this, is, we cannot touch, see, nor hear love. But yet, we can still sense the expressions of what love is.

Sex, on the other hand, is a completely different animal in and of it’s self. It is exciting to express our selves in a physical way. When two bodies come together as though designed and shaped from the mire and clay for just this very act.

The human body has millions of nerve endings, each one screaming for attention. Pulses race and emotions soar, having produced within us a chemical reaction, releasing endorphins that stimulate our brains and tells us we are happy.

This again, seems to be a well thought out design of our human experience. We experience this in our relationships; where what seems to be good is confirmed by our body’s natural reactions that it is in deed good, or is it?

This of course is but one side of the story. There are both positive and negative aspects that conclude good and safe male – female tensions.

Sexuality is but a sliver of our human experience, but within this sliver comes a myriad of complex discoveries of which we are; and more so who we are called to be.

This book is not so much a conclusion of right and wrong, nor is it for the straight-laced Christian who has never felt the sting of failures and sorrow, as they’ve grasped their for-heads with furrowed brows wondering how they could make such proclamations: as to say, I am Christian.

Rather, This book is for those who have struggled with fears of worthiness and acceptance, those who have stood at the shadowy doorway of the enemies dwelling place, and entered; all the while wishing they had the strength to turn around and not succumb to the sirens of temptation.

This book is for those in search of redemption; perhaps unknowingly, in search of the boundaries God has purposed and called into existence. After all, it would stand to reason that if God had created us in His image, then perhaps, just maybe, He intended us to live as though we are His creation; with His purposes in mind. This at times, is something easier said then done.

What I mean by this is: in today’s modern culture, there seems to be little distinction between the sexual habits among Christians and those of the secular world, where lust, pre-marital sex, fornication, adultery, sodomy, and other sexual vices seem to be a predominant staple.

If I may be so blunt here, as to say, we are worldly Christians; that are falling miserably short of what God has called us to be and what God has called us to do. That is, to be holy, to be separated. In this case, many Christians are certainly not sexually holy by any stretch of the imagination.

And if we find this to be true, that is; that we were created in Gods image, then perhaps there is an outline; although blurred by this world we can grasp a hold of; a still, silent hope in the face of a world screaming: “all is good and well, come, eat, drink and be marry, for tomorrow we die”.

Cover Page:

I once listened to a pastor telling a story of a Native American legend. As the legend went, an Indian chief told his grandson that within us lived the spirit of two dogs. He told his grandson that one dog was loyal and loving and always tried to do right. While the other dog was disloyal, filled with hatred and was always doing wrong.

The Chief said that these two spirits were always fighting for control of our thoughts, our actions, for us. The Chief went on to say that one day the spirits got into a ragging battle.
And that still to this day this battle rages on inside of man.

When his grandson asked which of these two dogs would win the battle. His grandfather replied; the spirit that will win this battle is going to be the one that you will choose to feed.

And I wondered at the wisdom of this legend. How it was much like the battle between light and dark, good versus evil, and how this battle has raged on within men for thousands of years.

I thought of how our sin natures contradict the very things we wish we could do, the very things we wish we could be.

And I wondered at how many times I have fed the wrong spirit. How at times darkness has overshadowed me and light fled from my eyes. This battle for me is between the world and God and what I believe to be true. This battle is of the flesh, spirit and desire.

This book is about these two spirits, these two dogs, and the conflict of man. It’s with-in these pages I hope to relate and share my experience, my journey and what I’ve discovered about this battle between light and dark. Going forward I invite you to traverse this journey with me.

It's strange the effect having too much alone time can have or too much stress or anger or what ever it may be that triggers these needs for reassurance - that we are still breathing. I heard a quote once from a movie "some times you have toallow your lofe to get messy to know you're alive" or something like that.

Like we do these things which make no sense that are out of our character sometimes out of hurt othertimes to know we still exist.

the thing about our broken nature is that we're not alone - the very fact we care to mention our hurts our guilts is the very proof we're fighting the good fight. Other wise would we fight at all?