The Last Day

The reminder of who I am, and what I am capable of, has grown stronger.

It's true.

When I was little, it was the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes that was gonna save us.  Then it was the distant relative we didn't know existed who was gonna save us.  Or the DNA proof I was not my parents daughter.  Or that boy who would rescue me.

Don't get me wrong; all along I continually found ways out.  I always have; granted I'm the one who usually got myself into the mess in the first place.  The King was right the summer before our divorce, I did need to change.  I had lost the sense of who I was, and I was desperate for him to save me.  I wanted him to be my knight in shining armor who rescued me from the pit in which I had fallen.

In AZ, 2008.  Before the Dark Times.  Before the Empire.

In 2008, my sister committed suicide in late May.  By June, the amazing business I had built was unraveling.

I was desperate for rescue.

My best friend became my worst enemy, and the King blamed me.  The church which we both belonged to became a place of quiet stares.  When I needed comfort the most after the loss of my sister, the rumors of my misdeeds instead became fodder.

Through it all, I clung to this:

"This is not of me."

 

 

God, my Jehovah Rapha, who walked with me as a Husband when my Knight had died and healed my broken heart, never left during those dark days.  Soooo many dark days.  While glimpses of joy and moments of happiness blossomed, the deep sadness of loss was my bathing pool.  There was no break from the trauma of her death and the resulting aftermath on my business.  No matter how I was proven innocent, malicious lies prevailed.

I was desperate for rescue.

The economy tanked, and the industry I loved failed.  The parent company closed, and my 12 year career ended.

I felt as if I need to do penance for my crimes...the crime of not preventing her death or preventing the downfall of my group.  I took off my diamond link Tag and wore my old Bulova.  I took a low paying job as a coordinator, and was quickly bored as there wasn't enough to do.  I accepted it all as punishment.  I was to blame for the fall.  I was to blame for not saving.  I was to blame for the anguish.

 And yet...

 This photo still scares me.  One eye is fully dilated, the other a mere pinhole.  The concussion had been a few hours before.

The head injury was a wake-up call; I knew punishing myself with the job I had taken was not the way to go. I decided to become an entrepreneur, but immediately floundered.

I asked for help.

Not rescue, just help.

There was none.

 

Weariness is brittle to the bones.  I know.  I had one for almost six months.

Thus the spiral began, and the King and I parted.  He wanted change, I became desperate for rescue.  Neither of us could reconcile the past with a future, and the end came a year ago.

So I sought rescue of another kind.

This rescue was two-fold:  a job I could just show up and work, and love.  The deep friendship I still have with the King (and an abject fear of dating and rejection) was what had kept my marriage together well beyond what was healthy.  Now I longed for stability in my finances and a love that cherished me for the outlier that I am.

 And somehow I thought, as an outlier, I'd be happy in a 40hr work with limited income potential. 😂😂😂

Yeah.

Today is my last day working for someone else-ever.  It took me three years, and three jobs I was bored out of my mind with, to know what I've always known:  I'm an entrepreneur.  My tribe is rural entrepreneurship; my heartbeat is teaching others how to start.  Ride lets me indulge in that; while still supporting my family. 

Did I mention I'm never retiring?

 Me at The Villages.

My recent trip to see Mom, who lives at The Villages in Florida, convinced me I shall never retire.

I'm gonna be a philanthropist instead.

With that goal, I'm super geeked.  The next 20 years should be amazing as I work 50-70hrs a week towards it.

I cannot wait.

 I know what I've achieved.  Time to start on my third million.

As for the other?

 On top of Old Rag Mountain, fall of '92.  Newly engaged to my Knight.  A true romantic.

Now?

 

Whatever😜😎

I'm not giving up...but I have a lot to do.  I'm holding hostage some cool collateral, and there's always this:

 No fewer than three guys in Public Works have given me their number today at work(or asked for mine!!!😜🤔😬)

God, my Jehovah Rapha, has healed me.  He came to my rescue; reminding me what abilities I have and assuring me my path was sound.  As I trust in Jehovah Jireh to provide, I experience the deep, deep peace of Jehovah Shalom.  I have a suspicion that El Gmulot is about to make an appearance...as I type that my heart beats hard in my chest.

My God of recompense.

This season of deep trial has come to a close.  8 years and 8 months later.  

 

8 years, 8 months.  8-8.  Really?!? ❤

Seasons typically take ten years, but we outliers do things differently.  Cut corners and make things happen faster.

Are you read to rumble?  I am.

Let's have some fun:). As for love?  

Let's see if it can catch me.