This is my mom. There are many like her but this one is mine.

There are some things that no child should ever witness their mother do. On a yellow legal notepad, one could easily fill out a few thousand examples of disturbing acts that could traumatize a young infant, or break the heart of an older son/daughter.

I do love my mother and talk to her often. It is very difficult to have a real conversation with her because English is not her primary language. She shuts out the American culture. When she does embrace our customs, she accepts common pop-culture, new trendy concepts, or liberal education.

I love my mom because God tells me to do so. If it weren't for Him, I'd boot my mom from my life entirely. Yet by loving her, I constantly have to turn my cheek from her stupid and ignorant sins she freely chooses to act upon.

Since my mom was always away from home growing up, my dad raised me. It was just me and him....and all his beautiful female secretaries. They helped take me to school, cleaned our house, and make me meals from time to time. My dad was quite the Howard Stark in his company, but my mom had other professions.

At times, I have had to "borrow" other mother figures in my life. They have all done a superb job in raising me. One of the biggest founding mothers of my Christian zeal, I owe to Jane Pichette of Vista, CA. Like Jane, there have been many women and men of all ages that have been a parental figure in my life. I do love their guidance and of course, will not cease loving my own dad and mom. I remain in contact with my parents and speak to them often, mainly by phone.

Painful memories have echoed through the silence in between words of short phone calls but nothing prepared me for the shock I received tonight on my cell phone. As if the devil wasn't already working me from all angles under the sun, here comes another blow to my head. My mom sends me some devastating text messages to me....well, they were actually photos.



.... no.... much worse....





I don't know why I'm alive. I'm constantly reminded of how much I've failed or how wrong or how horrible I am. I don't understand why Christ would love me.

Our modern church is so dead it's hard to find real brothers and sisters in Christ that I can cry and pray with. I was at a Christian store recently and after my purchase/transaction, the cashier asked, "Is there anything I can pray about for you?"

I told her no... I didn't want her to have nightmares.