Unimportant Grace

2/15/15     2:30pm

I want to die. I played Apples to Apples. I’m in a spiritual service now on repentence, turning toward goodness. Apparently lent starts next week. Hot damn. Who cares? Aside from Auntie. Not me.

     I need to go home now.
     It’s too far, too much.
     This transition will hurt.

I am proving how unneeded I am. (sigh) Damn. I am at once important and not important at all. Dr. N. It’s important to understand my unimportance. I can only get out if I do. I don’t want to. I don’t know how to know and survive. Jesus, help me. Thank you, Lord.

It is only through being unimportant that I am freed to do something else.

I don’t want chocolate.
I don’t want steak.
I only want to feel okay.
Soaring freer than ever before,
Far up over the open door,
I watch what’s left here on the ground.
Where I am headed there is no frown.
No time, no terror, no second base.
Only the glow of His great face.
I don’t want chocolate.
I don’t want steak.
I only want to feel His grace.

I miss you, Sonny.
Only surrender.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2015

I am happy :)

5/31/14     10:03am

My soul is filled with the joy of the Lord. JESUS!

(deep breath) I am happy.
I am happy.

Last night I sang a solo at my choir concert. I am so proud! I was so nervous. I started learning it around 3pm. 2 hours in the car with Whitney Houston, 20 minutes with a karaoke track from iTunes and a lot of prayer. The devil fought me telling me I couldn’t do it, that I was worthless and needed to die. Not today, sir. Get out of my house. JESUS!

My head hurts so bad.

There were only 16 people in the audience – all family of the choir and a few church members. None of my friends showed up. I was so thankful to have my mom.

I read from Proverbs and prayed that God would sing through me and to me, that He would give me the courage to open my mouth and use me as a vessel for His word, keeping my focus only on Him. This song is a vocal dance for Jesus. JESUS!

My whole body trembled. An hour or so before, I hit a wall – weak, dizzy, close to tears, barely able to eat. I sat down a few times during the concert but decided not to take my PRN for my heart that I sometimes do during concerts. I didn’t want to interfere with the Spirit. My head and mouth hurt all day. I had decompensated to confusion, yelling at cars, then not moving. But I did it. Just for God. No practice with the choir. A lick and a prayer. All for God. Only for God.

The look on Ken’s face as I sang was priceless. He exchanged looks with Janet. I smiled genuinely. He didn’t know I could do that. Neither did I. :) I got so many compliments after, the best in an email from another choir member. He said:

I listened to the recording of the concert tonight on the way home and I am almost speechless regarding your rendition of “I Love the Lord.” I couldn’t really hear it when we did it, or I would have said something afterwards. I am just floored by the range, the intensity, and the emotion that you put into that solo. Wow. Just magnificent. Thanks for making tonight one of the best nights I have ever spent performing music. Those 16 people in the audience were definitely in the right place at the right time.”

I watched the video when I got home. It is the first time I’ve been proud of my work, didn’t hate the sound of my voice. I felt free.

Today I am still proud. My head and mouth hurt a lot. I feel nauseous. I’m eating kettle corn on the couch. Not the best idea after serious mouth surgery but I’m afraid to make oatmeal. I feel overwhelmed. I’m trying to settle, breathe. My doctor and therapist are both out of town so it’s me and God. He’s got this. (wink)

Thanks for listening.
May you be blessed.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2014

Jesus Loves Me

12/4/12     8:15pm

Dear God,

THANK YOU!

I am waiting for the trolley. I feel joy. I breathe in the cool night air. I breathe. I breathe… I feel calm. I listen intently to crickets and the sound of car tires over rail tracks and the wind. German discussions drift…

My hair blows softly over my face.
I’m free.

I’M FREE! (sigh)

I can’t explain the joy sitting here brings me. Folding laundry. Listening instead of just hearing. The deep appreciation of rising from the ashes, of being released from pain. I see colors. I taste. I feel God again.

19 days of pain have led to this beauty. I am set free. I savor the feeling. I know it is just for a time but this time is mine.

(break to talk with Ringo on the trolley)

(zap) I look forward to projects. I eat colors, swallow time. I am pink and the whole world sings. Of joy, of deliverance, of me. My face smiles without me. I watch. She is beautiful when she’s happy.

This week I realistically contemplated going in. Today I don’t need to. When I see my doctor tomorrow the pain will be a story. I will be able to talk, unlike last time, and to think. I think. Anyway, there is such a difference. Like flipping a switch. I am glad to be on this side.

I could not appreciate gift without loss. Now I take it in, prepare and wait. Rest. Thank you, God. Weepin’ may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning. Amen.

My whole body tingles.
Joy comes in the morning.

(sing Brett Michaels’ song “Joy Comin’.”)

As my muscles being to hurt again, remember this feeling.

I used all my energy today.
Now I’m melting.
At least I can poop.

7          If I can feel such joy on Earth, can you imagine what it’s like in heaven?

FG       I don’t know.
            Probly pretty awesome.

3          Sparkles and unicorns!

13        Dragons & fire.

25        Peace & quiet.

7          And angels.

13        I want to paint the sky with a dance and pour out the rain.

FG       And for things to be okay.

3          Jesus will like my unicorn.

7          And I want to ride a sunset.

3          Jesus loves me.

FG       I know, baby. He does.
            Jesus loves me.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

Jesus & Happy

4/2/12

Jesus,

Did anyone tell you what happiness is? That you had a right to feel it? I’m pretty sure the knowledge/awareness of “happy” and the expectation that I should or should be able to feel it are fucking me up.

Have people always expected to feel happy? What if feeling awful is the default? If I was okay with feeling awful my life would be much better. Is this an American thing? I do NOT feel happy.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012