This site will feature Bible-based articles some days, silly posts and quotes at least twice a week and facts about Jack the Ripper-to begin with.

Posts tagged ‘peace’

L Is For Layla (The Peacemaker)

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Welcome to Friday, the 13th! Have you had a good day? Do you believe in all that superstition?
Anyway, I hope your day was good.
Today is the day to celebrate the letter “L”. The above photos are of Layla, one of the first two guinea pigs we bought, when we got them for Anna for Christmas two years ago. We were told we were getting two girls and they were right about one of them; Nibbles, however, turned out to be a boy.
The middle photo is of Layla, a day or two before she gave birth to Taylor, Speckles and Meatball. If you have been following my blog for a while, you have probably seen the last photo of Layla, with her newborn babies, in a basket that they could chew and sleep in. They wore that basket to shreds-got a lot of use out of it.
I call Layla the peacemaker because she gets along with all the piggies. Everything was great between Layla, Taylor and Speckles until Speckles gave birth to Herbie. Layla could live peaceably with Speckles and Herbie but The Bully, Taylor could not. Taylor and Speckles started going at it. Layla would always interfere, giving them a sharp squeak, sounding like she was getting onto them and telling them to stop.
I could just imagine her saying, “Here, y’all are sisters. Stop that.” Well, maybe not the y’all, but everything else.
We were forced to take Speckles and Herbie out of the cage and put them in a playpen until we could get another cage. Anna put Layla back and forth between Taylor and Speckles-putting her in the cage with Taylor during the night and in the playpen with Speckles and Herbie during the day. It worked out fine, until Anna got tired of doing it. Eventually, Layla went back to the cage with Taylor permanently.
Whenever I let them all out to run around, if Taylor made any sounds at Speckles, Layla would come over and interfere with her warning squeak, then Taylor would take off in another direction.
Layla still gets along with all the piggies, giving the boys kisses when she visits the outside of their cages. Sometimes when I pick her up, she kisses me all over my face. Layla-The Peacemaker.
Stay tuned, kiddies for tomorrow’s post, when I talk about another piggie, whom we no longer call our own.

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Fewer Words Thursday-Peace

It’s Thursday again and time for Fewer Words Thursday.  Join Andrea and I once again and click on the pretty picture for the not-so-much rules.

  Today, Andrea was still taking on the idea fo SERENITY.  At the end of her post, she asked what would give me peace.  I think I know the answer to that.  Nineteen years ago, I got into some trouble.  Some people that I had known for years would not forgive me.  When I tried to talk abut how scared I was and didn’t want to deal with it, they all said, “Well, you should have thought about that before yu did what you did,” or “Well, you’ve made your bed, now lie in it”.  They als told me that I deserved everything I got and I deserved to suffer.  They said I didn’t deserve any sympathy, just decide what I’m going to do about it and do it.

Well, I took those words to heart and have been telling myself how I don’t deserve sympathy and I deserve to suffer for the past nineteen years. After a session with a counselor, I did some thinking and realized that maybe I don’t have to punish myself anymre.  I want forgiveness.  Nothing has changed for me.  Inside, I am still nineteen years old and I still deserve to suffer.  But why?  Can’t I be forgiven now?  Have I suffered long enough, yet?

I’m tired, I’m really tired.  I’m tired of carrying this around with me.  I’m tired of burying it because I don’t deserve to talk about it.  Well, do I deserve to talk about it, yet?  Am I still supposed to be punishing myself?  Would they care if this kills me or would they say,”Well, she deserved it.  I hope she died miserable.”?

I told the counselor that I am not angry anymore, when he told me that I had a right to be angry.  I said, “I’m not angry anymore.  I’m just sad.”

Then we got into a discussion abut depression and I told him that I was on two antidepressants.  He said, “Do you know what depression is?  It’s repressed anger.”

I stopped dead in my tracks.  He told me I was still angry and thought I shouldn’t have been treated like that when I needed someone to lean on.  I think he’s right.  I also think I want them to tell me that they forgive me and I am reprieved in their sight.

That would give me peace.  At least, it would be a start.

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