Mine had no color at all, a tale for all

Okay now again, try it again. I dropped my brush upon the canvas. Waiting with great anticipation, and again nothing. Black and white bled from the brush, and even onto the paper dripping to the floor. There was no color that came from my brush at all. I saw the example of this most colorful illustration, and I clearly understood the instructions. What the heck…where were the colors I see in me. I was beginning to feel I had something truly wrong with me as I looked down, and even my art apron was soaked with the paint that spilled. There was not an ounce of color at all. I wreaked of darknesses call

I was beyond confused, and frustration was now holding tight the paint brush. I will prove to you all I am capable of making something just like that piece that hangs with life’s ambition. I will prove all of you wrong about me. I will scream every color of the rainbow. Didn’t I have favor in anyones eyes that I could indeed make a prize winning art like what was on display. What had become of the color that once resided in me? I was filled to the brim, and it came out of the creases in my smile. I was once so playful, and hope was the fragrance I wore. I must be holding the brush wrong, maybe I was not the artist I was thought to be. Maybe there was no color inside of me was now my reality. Not even a tinge of color at all. What a sad colorless life I was living, was I dead

I put the paints down in search of my color, I wanted back what was once so freely given to me. My canvas was as dark as coal, and I felt death was knocking on my door. As I was rummaging through to find the answer I was throwing empty booze bottles over my right and left shoulders. Bottle after bottle a collection that when I looked slightly over my right shoulder made me shudder. All of that I had consumed. Doomed! It was no wonder I saw no hope, all that hope drowned the day I I wet my soul with the lies of that damn bottle. I nursed it until no end. With each sip…green gone. Drink some more you alcoholic horror. Took the purple too. Who knew?

I now know everyone did except for me, putting down the bottle in complete surrender was the only way I had even a chance of color coming back to me. I had the desperation of a dying woman, and I was ready to take the steps necessary so one day sometimes quickly sometimes slowly I could paint something as spirited with colors vast as the painting my instructor asked me to make so many a year ago

Sometime has passed since I have picked up the brush, and I was working so hard on one day at time letting go and letting God. I was finding this solution to live free of the bottle that once encumbered me. I was now living, and loving this whole new way of life I found with a my God, and simple yet hard 12 step program. I could see this progress of self, and this life that once felt like deadly venom took over was now do I dare say being filled with hope. Yes that is what I will share. That was my story of experience, strength, and hope. The colors I see coming back into me, I don’t look the same. I don’t look like I did the first day I walked in the rooms. Nor do I look like my mug shot. I am coming back around to solid ground, I think I am ready with the strength I find with my God to paint again. I believe from the depths of my soul that my painting now will not lack a single color. It will be a magnificent masterpiece of my father’s hand, and the transformation from death to life. Hope will drip off the table, and all over my art apron. Jesus indeed take my very broken wings, colorless and lifeless. He gave me flight of color that would blind the blind. Look at me now, look at me then. My canvas is still being made, and I think it will never be finished. Just as when I wake His mercies are new every morning. Hope is a huge part of His story! Hope is my new mission, and this story does not have “the end” as long as I keep my spiritual house clean I can continue to glean hope

Black and white horrid with deaths knock 9 plus years ago
Back at the coloring, my grandson and I. These are the gifts I get one day at a time making a conscious decision to turn my will, and my life over to God! I am His! Color me hope, color me free

http://amanpan.blog/2022/08/30/moonwashed-weekly-challenge-vivacious-august-30-2022/

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So this popped up the other day…

Two years already, and I couldn’t be more blessed. As of recent trying to balance going back to work, and finding time to blog has been very difficult. I am happy to be finally starting to come back around again.

I love it here, and I thank all of you for your support from my openness about my love for the Lord, sobriety, and breast cancer. I feel alive on here, and 2 years has been such an uplifting journey for me!

Thank you to all of you, and from me to you I sincerely appreciate you all!

Lisa M. Boyd because “weirds are word”!

Thank you all for 2 years of continuous support on my blog. From the song…(change of words) by Billy Currington “God is great, beer is my personal poison
And people are crazy”! 🫶🏻🤣

So this popped up the other day…

Two years already, and I couldn’t be more blessed. As of recent trying to balance going back to work, finding time to blog has been very difficult. I am happy to be finally starting to come back around again.

I love it here, and I thank all of you for your support from my openness about my love for the Lord, sobriety, and breast cancer. I feel alive on here, and 2 years has been such an uplifting journey for me!

Thank you all for 2 years of continuous support on my blog! God is great, and I am believer!

Chin bandaids are too cool for school

As I ready myself for work I do have at the back of my head what if?

What if it my chin biopsy comes back skin cancer, and they have to dig into my chin? The Doctor advising me I could use my breast cancer surgeon to do the plastic surgery to make my chin look somewhat normal.

What if, what if what if, my brain was definitely squirrelly, and the what if was renting too much space in my head on Monday. I knew I needed an AA meeting. I knew what if needed to go

What if? I didn’t feel like drinking, I just know what to do when I don’t feel good. I have been gifted the tools today to say I need to get into the rooms to listen. To be open minded, willing, and honest

What if? I wasn’t myself. When the Doctor started talking plastic surgeon I checked out. I could see his mouth moving, but it was too much for my brain with all I have just come up, and out of in the last 2 years. Breast Cancer, and four surgeries later I envisioned myself telling the Doctor to go you know where. Of course I didn’t.

What if? What if? What if? Well I only have today. I live one day, and at times one moment at a time. So I now wait for 2 grueling weeks. I wait, and I see. I trust God, and pray a lot. I take that what if and shove it!

What if? Sure it remains at the back of my head with a bandaid on my chin as I grin. What if is not as overwhelming as it was Monday. That is all thanks to a program God gifted me in AA, and my spiritual house today being clean. I know God has me

What if? I don’t know all I know is I trust my unknown future to a very known God. All I have is right now. So with bandaid on my chin I will manage to grin, and make it through my work day! Happy, Joyous, and free me! What if all I have is today

Chin bandaids are too cool for school

As I ready myself for work I do have at the back of my head what if?

What if it my chin biopsy comes back skin cancer, and they have to dig into my chin? The Doctor advising me I could use my breast cancer surgeon to do the plastic surgery to make my chin look somewhat normal.

What if, what if what if, my brain was definitely squirrelly, and the what if was renting too much space in my head on Monday. I knew I needed an AA meeting. I knew what if needed to go

What if? I didn’t feel like drinking, I just know what to do when I don’t feel good. I have been gifted the tools today to say I need to get into the rooms to listen. To be open minded, willing, and honest

What if? I wasn’t myself. When the Doctor started talking plastic surgeon I checked out. I could see his mouth moving, but it was too much for my brain with all I have just come up, and out of in the last 2 years. Breast Cancer, and four surgeries later I envisioned myself telling the Doctor to go you know where. Of course I didn’t.

What if? What if? What if? Well I only have today. I live one day, and at times one moment at a time. So I now wait for 2 grueling weeks. I wait, and I see. I trust God, and pray a lot. I take that what if and shove it!

What if? Sure it remains at the back of my head with a bandaid on my chin as I grin. What if is not as overwhelming as it was Monday. That is all thanks to a program God gifted me in AA, and my spiritual house today being clean. I know God has me

What if? I don’t know all I know is I trust my unknown future to a very known God. All I have is right now. So with bandaid on my chin I will manage to grin, and make it through my work day! Happy, Joyous, and free me! What if all I have is today

Fools Gold in that bottle I held…Personified allibies

Just a shell walking in a lifeless form, a mannequin with barely a beating heart. Flat line waiting for the paddles, nothing could rattle my covetness for my numbness slathered

Dormant my personality lied, the zeal suppressed with alcoholics hallucinate hands. Reside in my own cell, an alcoholic hell. Sit in my own sin, wallow in my trademark venom

Never could pass the test, and any zest I may have had was laid to rest. Idolized the moisture of my enbrieated state. Filled with hate 

Fools gold in that bottle I held, meld into my skin. Personfied allibi, fake beyond each disguise. Lost with each sip, lucid goes as I got hosed

Swam with the sharks. Ravenous, blood thirsty. Needed that alcohol to occupy my soul. No holes, just bury all my secrets in my skin. Soak it up, let it be my end

It was my first thought upon waking the craving pulsating, and trampling my brain. It was the last thought upon laying my drunk head into a blackout state, death hovered 

This was the alcolohic me, numb me. Take away the pain for just one more moment. I hurt so bad inside. No where for God to reside. Hibernated, and bathed myself with my poison. My soul took cover, and demons hovered. Lurking in the night, I became as dark the tonic I drank. Rank with stank

Crippled by my own hands, hardened heart. Selfish, drowning in my own spite

Feeding off the juicy lies that came as day turned into night, and night turned into day. Spiced it up, made stuff up, my life was but a lie. Hiding in my bottle, this was the alcolohic me

No more hiding, no more numbing, no more running. For Jesus salvaged the wreckage I made of my life. Gave me hope, and took away my craving. He took my heart, and transplanted it at the cross. Carved my name, where His body hang in death for me on Calvary 

Laid the bottle down, and now I am unmasked and even somewhat vulnerable. For the love, laughter, and life I have now I would never trade it for a day of desperation lost. For I was off the grid, but now am found. In Him I abound. My masks are no more, my smile is real. In Jesus was my appeal….pathos no more, joy so surreal. That character no longer resides, for I am alive and set free of the dark cage of lifeless air suffocating me

I love you, Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. Psalm 18:1-2

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2022/04/19/

Pristine the puppeteers hands gleam

Written for the Word of the Day challenge: pristine

Porcelain doll, so dainty and fair. How long have you been sitting in there?

High upon the top shelf of the lit curio cabinet, I see you are scatched and dirty

You are definitely a sight Amoungst the reburished dolls, they are so pretty. Gleaning white. I bet you were just as them at one time, a doll makers delight

Your eye sits out of socket, you’re a little twisted in your posture. Not beyond repair, I see you sitting you are not beyond my stare

Porcelain doll, so dainty and fair. How long have you been in sitting there?

I imagine with all the dust fallen in your hair, it has been awhile. Your not groomed or styled like the rest

I bet you are one that holds much value, and history too. I can see my hands taking great pride in you. A new stiched outfit, your hair with a soft curl around your little face

I will buff you, and shine you back to your prime, and put you back in place. Antique, you are. Priceless, I as a doll collector I see your value. I look pass the grease smudges on your face. I see you white as snow in its place

When my hands are finished with the making of you new I will place you back upon the top shelf. You will no longer lean on the one sitting next to you. You will stand with elegance. Every eye transfixed to the top shelf, where you are no longer tarnished

Porcelain doll so dainty and fair, look at her skin glowing white, almost translucent. She is near perfect. Her cheeks soft pink with matching lips too. I wonder who takes claim, who’s hands does this doll belong too? Famous hands I trust with the look of that of a near perfect touch

Pristine his hands, and face gleam at the new work His eyes see

White as snow, white as snow, thought my sins were as scarlet,
Lord I know, Lord I know, that I’m clean and forgiven.
Through the power of Your blood, through the wonder of Your love,
through faith in you I know that I can be
white as snow.

~Maranotha Music

Phillipians 1:6

being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion

Photo Credit me; I have always thought I looked like a doll in this picture. I am poised in a doll like fashion. My head tilted just right, and my face dolly like. My skin fair, and face with a hint of pink. Likened to a doll, how neat. I bask at the change in me from my makers hands. This is not what my portrait would have resembled a few years back. I neeeded reassmbled. For my maker to make me clean, and place in back in my rightful place. He did that indeed!!

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2022/04/14/pristine/

Goofy is as goofy does, intention-ally me

Extrovert by nature, I don’t need the bottle to articulate. I am just a happy go lucky person, and the grass is greener where I now reside. No need to hide 

Was scared to be sober. Felt booze was always in order. Needed it so I thought, I actually am better without a drop. Goofy I am, and even goofier as sober I stay

I am outgoing, and bubbly it just secretes from within naturally. God has rescued, and revived me in the clarity I have daily. I am a better person dry

I am not in need of that toxic waste, it fooled me into thinking I was better off with its vibrance seeping from within. No need to wet my soul with the bottle of old

For today is yet another day goofy, and authenticity reigns. I do not have to fake it to barely make it. I am alive, and free without that dreaded bottle to cling

Extreme has always been my person, for I am an alcoholic. We thrive off of drama, and chaotic ruins we wade in. The differance is with my Lord and Saviour, I don’t have to dwelve there 

Held captive no more, goofy is as goofy does. Laughter is my new step. I lept into the arms of my gracious Father. For there I find sobriety, one day at a time. Sober fun is easy, less dramatized too. I long since changed my shoes, and was made brand new

Bid the bottle adieu, and dry I will stay yet another day. Less complicated is this barren land. Free of muddy tear stained puddles, made by me. Thank you Jesus for setting me free!!

Free to commuicate without sloppy, slurring words. Absurdity no more. Goofy I adore! Sober is me! Intention-ally me!

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2022/04/11/intentional/

Heavy with makeshift flask in hand, finally I reached dry land

Free write using the https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2022/03/26/flask/

My hand used to be heavy with a makeshift flask, whatever I could do to get my hands on my poison to then drink it deep within my skin. Absorbed until it wore off. The first sense of any sensationalism I would repeat. Oh how neat my life seemed, inside screams of hallow cries for help then gulp. No more. I was fine again like a broken record I still played. So I drank as long as the needle still dropped, and I couldn’t hear the screech once I poured. Alcohol I adored

A tattered water bottle always in hand thinking I was fooling you, fooling me what was red and looked like Gatorade was really wine. Oh and I was fine, just fine

My hand was always heavy with a makeshift flask I drank so heavily I was deaf and driven by the rage I felt so deep, shaky hands and blood scorned breath

A broken bottle opened upon the sidewalk’s edge drinking the moisture from the bottle just enough to get my taste buds aroused, then I would drink it fast and hard. Enough to make me blind, deaf, and dumb~NUMB

Misery lurked inside that makeshift flask, but I just couldn’t feel enough your asks. I didn’t care to be your friend, nothing could compete with my plastic flask. I buried all my secrets with each sip, camouflage with what resembled rage

The air around me was a cage, I was shackled to my own incomprehensible demoralization. Lost in my blood stained sin, progressive it was always rage again. Crazy was the game, and I was always ready to play

Today I don’t carry that makeshift flask. I surrendered, and was set free. My Lord Jesus rescued me. The cage was opened, and out came the fragmented pages of me. I realized my powerless over that toxic drink. I couldn’t drink just one, and 100 was never enough. I couldn’t, He can, and I knew I needed to let Him. Jesus took me in, even though I spat all over Him. He is that gracious, and good

I surrender myself to this beautiful life of sobriety one day at a time. Knowing I have to do whatever is suggested of me. The air around me has changed, my five senses are clear set afire. I see the most beautiful things I used to take for granted. I see the most vibrant of colors, and smell. No more self made hell

There isn’t enough as of today to get me to wish to go back the other way. My life is beautiful, and I love being able to feel. I don’t have to hide my makeshift flask. Traded it for the hope I carry proudly for all to see. No more hiding for me. I am alive, and I am soaring high on eagles wings shackles fell beneath me long ago

God did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. I will always share my experience, strength, and hope! My life is dope, and not the kind you shoot into you veins. It’s dope with the gift of sobriety, and the miracle of life that sits here writing this today! God reached in, and shook me to my core. Spiritually ill no more! I today am not that alcoholic horror

Free of my makeshift flask heavy in hand. My feet are on dry land, soil wet with seeds to be turned with the tools I need to keep me from having to pick up that next drink. All contingent on my spiritual house. God Has my will and life today, this disease is progressive so my prayer is for this I stay

But those who hope in the Lordwill renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. ~Isaiah 40:31

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2022/03/26/flask/

One-Liner Wednesday-it’s a slippery slope

“Non-alcoholic beer is for non- alcoholic’s read the label”. ~Ardel (old timer in my AA meetings)

I had to jot this into my notes one night at a meeting. I loved it, and it made me chuckle too. New alcoholics that are still trying to figure out there powerlessness over alcohol will still try anything. An old timer put it very simply as to say the above quote. I have known many who have relapsed thinking they could drink non-alcoholic beer. They go back to their old ways/habits so fast. It’s a slippery slope I am not willing to go down. It made perfect sense to me.

https://lindaghill.com/2022/02/16/one-liner-wednesday-i-won-2/comment-page-1/#comment-453560

You’ve got the wrong door, just for today…

I don’t drink like a lady. All it takes is one sip, and I am off to the races. That bottle in wait to rape my innocence, me oblivious. As well I will gladly take you with me to my self made hell. Oh well

Smite with each drip. Sipped turned to pour, turned to guzzle like a whore

I don’t drink like a lady. My inhibitions loose. My heart calloused, and the desires of the world worn like a string pearls

Smite I don’t drink like a lady, there just isn’t enough. As much as I was knocked down a notch with each drip I didn’t give a sh*&! As long as I couldn’t feel. Waited for its kill, the thrill

I don’t drink like a lady. Forgetting my title as wife, and mother. Slurred colorful language that usually was never heard my tongue did not hesitate. I hurt so I wanted you to hurt

Smite I don’t live there anymore. I gave up that bottle of self pity. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I envy not that prison within anymore. My chains are broke. The old woman inside of me I don’t have to be. Her day is long dead, and gone. I am redeemed…

Smite no more, today I am am free of the alcoholic whore. Grace He poured, and I drink it deep within my skin. One day at a time, I am free of my alcoholic spiritually ill suffering

Smite I don’t live there anymore, you’ve got the wrong damn door

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2021/06/02/smite