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Showing posts from October, 2017

Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret.

When I can't sleep and I am tired of browsing Facebook and playing games, I talk to God. I don't necessarily pray, but I thank Him for everything He has done for me and I let Him know I am still here and in very dire need of His presence in my life. It gives me a weird sense of peace in my chest and heart to have Him listening to me. Sometimes I tell Him about my day or I will ask Him to remind me to do something the next day. Sometimes I'll cry. I reminisce a lot about the past and things I miss. No one knows my memories like He does. It's hard for me to put my finger on the exact moment when I accepted God as my savior. I don't have quite the testimony as most people do. I just know that He's my guy and I'm his gal. I'm going to go see Him at the end of times and we are going to have one hell of a homecoming. My friends and family will be there, He will have my dogs and other pets - but let's face it, mainly the dogs - so many dogs. I can't w

hands.

You think whenever someone is gone that you're going to remember everything about them. Specifically how they look. ... or maybe you don't? But I'll always remember hands. People's hands are something that catches my eye, no matter what I'm doing. Hands and certain sounds - weird, I know - right? Super weird considering I have been a consistent nail biter up until about 3-4 years ago. Being a nail biter you would think I wouldn't care too much about my hands, which may be true - but I often find myself sitting and think about her hands, their hands, and how I miss being about to look at them.  It's funny now because then I didn't realize while I was looking at her vein placement (I wasn't even a nurse at the time), and the frailty of her skin that it would be something that I would remember for a while to come. I didn't know that her fingernails would always seems so thick and beautiful when polished with the clear coat, even though she could n