Tweet tweet.

We struggle to draw attention to the true quality of a child’s life. Children are disrespected, every second of everyday and orphans are increased in that amount each day.

Each day an orphan must face that, they are alone, even with siblings, they feel alone and feel the need to stay that way, so when they loose again, they won’t feel it as badly, as the pain that cause them to recoup into a shell. Every child must cope with life. How we coped is how we will teach our children to cope.

Now, children do not lie? Right? And yet I am a grown woman of respectable age. Right? I look respectable. Right? I’m a mother of some amazingly adjusted children, who are grown. And Adults. The fruits of my labor bring me joy as they walk the planet and make it a better place to live, by just being themselves. They have chosen well. All are very strong in there own ways.

Being a Mama is like being a gardener for these beings that come through us, that are not ours. I see this truth through my Mamas communications. Yes. And it’s amazing to watch those beings make choices and all the emotions you feel and reactions. It’s like chemistry class and I’m a made scientist. I love to mix to study reactions. What can I say?

I’m addicted to family dynamics. And do believe my gift is to just naturally know the button to push to get the reactions to tell me what each person needs? It’s so strange a gift. And some folks really hate me when I have to push that button they don’t want pushed. Like I did Mama. And I was only talking about how I felt about Mama and trying to show her that I worked it out, to find that all along that was what she thought about herself?

Oh sweet Jesus stop the train. Oh Lordy. No. Mama can’t think like that? No. Like it’s all left and needs to go right. It’s like God showed me as I wrote and spoke my truth, some dark truth that lay beneath the surface that I was addressing for us all. Because if Mama reacted so badly? There was work for me to do to change that globally! Like to the top!

I do not wish my Mama to feel like shit. Excuse me! For feeling like shit growing up without her?! Excuse me for wanting my own Mama to love me! Excuse me for giving a shit to tell a world gone mad that thinks I wouldn’tf notice her disappearance? Please. Excuse me for stepping out of the god forsaken line away from my Mama! Fuck you world!

She’s my Mama!

God gave me to her!

What in the fuck is wrong with this world?

It’s just madness. When you go home? And Mamas closed the curtains and does not wish to open her door because the world let her believe it was over? It’s not over. She is still bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh and God help anyone who’s told her different!

I’ve seen terror in her eyes when she’s seen me! Why? Because of my words? I want to know, Who’s there helping her understand? Who helping her see the good in this? Who’s helping her see That truth is good? And telling her as they pray with her, it will be alright? Who?

Who’s praying for her. Who’s asking her her truth? Who is thinking of her? Who? Who’s thinking with a Mamas heart? For their Mama?

I’ll tell you who! Me! And yet I am not there? Why? Why has she not called me? Why does she seem so scared and small to me? Fragile and weak. Vulnerable and yet, like God, who rages like a storm outside our window, as well as a man knocks on the door hoping they will answer, like a child on the internet, God knocks to bring a blessing in disguise.

What is the blessing in this storm? Who’s asking Mama that? Who in the hell if all you people up there is ministering to my Mama while we go through this? Who? Who’s loving my Mama and helping her deal with this and not brush it under the same damn rug? Hmmm?

When a wound heals, the skins grows together. Shall we stay like this? Open and exposed? Or shall we unite and heal? Shall we form our scare and heal? Or just stand her and bleed?

I’m here showing the world, how I go home.

You know? If healing is to come, we must make room. We must clean out all thoughts that are taking up room for that blessing to fill up.

I’m really cleaning. Like I want to fill it all up with the new. And I am listening and telling my truths. I just think truth needs to be cool again.

Below is a tweet. Adoption is glamorized. And unwed-motherhood is not? Why? When are we going to make Motherhood cool and the answer comes from within

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