An unexpected tantrum was waiting for me at breakfast one saturday morning, from what it seemed, it was a normal sunny afternoon. During the repeated arguments and exclamated remarks. All I was thinking was "How am I getting in trouble, for not saying anything"...
Be still and know you are God, right? I never knew I could get thrown in the place of guilt by living that phrase. I guess, everything makes more sense, if you just stand there, and take it.
After an hour or so of hearing all of my lifes irresponsibilities and 13 plates, 6 bowls, 12 glasses, 4 knives, 8 spoons and 10 forks washed, there was only one thing to dry, my mothers eyes...
I don't really know why I handle things the way I do. Does it make sense to say that I understand...quicker? Or is it just confused with the small fact that I don't care as much sometimes. I never cry, not saying that I never get the feeling. Is it bad that I have so much suppressed anger and sadness? haha...oh well.
I retire to my room and maybe making up for some irresponsibility I try and clean my already clean room. Thankfully, my parents left the house but God didn't. Realizing there wasn't really anything to clean I knelt half inside my closet, and prayed...
My mother said "Strike One"..My father said "Strike Two"...My Father pitched...Home run. - God is Love
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