The other day I ran out of gas. Yes, I made a couple unwise decisions with money right about the time I had to go to court. I'm aware there are always consequences for bad choices. Reggie had promised to pay for half of the divorce. My insurance checks seem to be lost in the mail, and I didn't get paid up front for the house sitting I'm doing now - which is also why I'm out of gas at this point.
My choice is to either ask for an advance of my pay from my friend's soon to be going out of business furniture store, or call Reggie to hold him accountable for his promise.
Desperation is the mother of courage. I'm sure of this.
I called. He responded nicely enough, but eventually made me pay.
I'm still wondering why he thought it was a good idea to show me current pictures of the husband who was supposed to be my forever partner in life, my protector, my lover, and my best friend. Oh! How it hurt. The Kip in the photo was the grey bearded man in the vision I had so long ago. The one that kept me going, filled with hope. But this man wasn't free. This man wasn't worshipping and strong. He was a shadow standing there blissfully covered in radioactive slime.
I have gas in my car. I have even eaten out. I also celebrated the courage given me which helped me stand in the midst of the trial and inevitable grief. (Thank you, Abba)
I shouldn't have had to pay heart currency, too.
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