I've done this so often before....hinged a poetic moment on an image. Let the visual spark a specific written response. But its never been the catalyst for an entire blog. Until now. With all the cotton candy and angst clogging the virtual highway this morning I was looking for something different. Already out of synch knowing I have been granted a temporary reprieve from calf grappling and road rage....schools are closed and the snow falls gently. I consider calling in but the boss? Yeah. Big red truck and bigger personality warrants more than 'I can't drive in this crap I'm New Mexican' if I plan to take an unscheduled day....

Love truly is blind at times...I could let the picture speak or share my thoughts and of course I choose the latter instinctively as I tell you I am a writer. So blind we often are slowly drawn to those who simply cannot benefit....Yes. Like a snail to scotch tape. Relationships are often that one sided....

But sometimes that myopic focus is saving grace when time stretches months to years, transient beauty fades and bright dreams tarnish in the steady drenching flow of tears over brittle broken hearts. Sometimes that flowers and chocolate frenzy fizzles and we realize after a choking day of stress that the warm arms of a mate who calms a crying child, digs a car out of the snow, or just hands the bag of cheetos over without teasing is an emissary of real love. Blind to your faults as you are to his or hers. The heady scent of romance is wonderful but at times the wafting aroma of that favorite cotton tshirt and jeans is the best balm.

Of course I am a fatal romantic. It is why I purge regarding love...certainly you can read between the lines. But I also am deeply grateful for the steady beat of a partner's heart. There will be no flowers, or candy. No card. No romantic dinner. He may not even tell me I'm beautiful. But at the end of the day when he's snoring in his chair with a cat and a kid on his lap I will know that this man is blind. Blind to his own dreams he works faithfully in the cold of a warehouse because he is a provider. Blind to the pull of his own 'down time' because the boy needs help with school work. And blind to my railing against almost everything that disappoints me...yes. He is mine. And because he is blind, he does not see the monster - only the pure light of my love for him. I just pray I never morph into a giant roll of scotch tape.

peace. I thank you for your kind comments this week. It amazes me that I am read and appreciated. I hope I bless you. I hope I make you smile.

Rumor has it Tam’s a snake kissin’ Pentacostal Freak of epic proportions. Well, in my own defense it’s simply not true. While I’ve locked lips with many a toad in my day, I have never swapped serpentine spit. And I really prefer that people not address my seeming increase in girth as ‘epic proportions.’ I am a bit sensitive about this layer of seal fat around my middle.

As with every rumor there is that seed of possible truth, and this is no exception. Suffice it to say, I am a bit freakish on multiple levels. I love the smell of gasoline on a hot summer day. I have a ‘thing’ for redheads. I can actually resist chocolate but not steak. And there is that whole way in which I pray that might suggest Pentacostal overtones. Yeah. I’m about to get on it. The Tam Soapbox of Faith Discourse. For those of you experiencing gastric discomfort unrelated to the Sonic Coney and Sweetheart shake you inhaled for lunch – please refrain from belching on my blog. You may leave the room if you feel so inclined at this time.

I’m not sure why the “F” word as in Faith meets with more shock and awe than the ‘other’ “F” word when used in one’s blog but often it’s the most incendiary subject on the virtual planet. We can discuss sexuality, deviant behavior and fetishes ad nauseum but the blogometer flips to red the moment the subject of one’s Creator crosses the page. One’s favorite position is fodder for poetic endeavor but one’s walk with God? Oooh. That’s personal. Sorry guys, guess I’d rather you see me prayin’ in tongues than tonguing my (censored for your protection)

I would hope by my mannerisms and my actions one would be able to determine that I am in fact a Christian woman who is walking the walk. If I am following the path my Father set for me, I shouldn’t have to explain my position. The very fact that I feel the need to identify myself in writing is a strong indicator that I am not completely in line with my Maker. And this is the point I wanted to share. There is a void it seems of solid Christians on Y360 who are not only unafraid to stand firm in their beliefs but are also so shaky that they cloak themselves when out in the virtual village because they don’t want to be ‘labeled’ or ‘libeled’ or ‘lambasted’ by the masses. Guess what? I ain’t that kinda Jeesus Freek. I am more than happy to discuss my faith with anyone who asks. And I am also not ashamed to come to you as a member of the human species. Faulted. Ignorant. And sometimes offensive although not ever by choice.

So if when visiting your page I say something like “I’m praying for complete health and victory for you and your family….” Rest assured my hands are on the screen and there is prayer being volleyed in your general direction. If you aren’t a Christian and I ask you a dumb question, please forgive me. Sometimes the learning curve is more jagged edge than gentle slope and I really don’t want to offend. And please don’t ever assume that because I am Christian and I work to adhere to my value system that I am out to convert, coerce or otherwise convict you. Love is gentle. Love is kind. Love holds no record of wrongdoing. Again. Not my job. Not my place. But prayer? Yup. Anytime you ask. You got it because that is my job as a Christian – to uplift, to uphold, to pray…to be truly there in the middle of the crap that this life throws in mass quantities. And I’m happy to do it. Doesn’t matter if you’re Buddhist or Wiccan or you worship cotton candy and Ginger Rogers, if you need prayer….don’t hesitate to ask. I really consider it a privilege and an honor. You don’t even have to tell me why…just ask me….my hands are already folded and it’s the least I can do….

Peace.

picture lifted from www.deviantart.com prayer for pain.....

and in my pursuit of proving my humanness...I will probably blog tomorrow. I said I wouldn't on Tuesdays and Wednesdays....but I have to face the horrific truth...Tam's addicted....peace