I turned 53 on April 10th and my girls bought me a laptop, so I took it as sign.
It has been a lifetime since I’ve blooged. And I’m finally in a space where I feel safe and secure, and all I can say is, it has been just that, a lifetime.
I’m not even going to go into the past few years about the Book of Cheryl, only that the chapters aren’t reading as I thought they would. I’ve always had pride in the fact my faith was so deeply rooted that it could withstand any storm. And going through a spiritual trial I believed I somehow was supposed to go through, didn’t make me believe any different. However, the dreaded however! I didn’t come through the fire refined and ready for a new spiritual battle. My emotions of hands raised in worship and faith in a favor of the security of the great I Am had been replaced with feelings of loss, dissapoitment and what the fuck’s… I didn’t feel refined at all. Only emptied. And again, knowing WHO my identity was in, I waited for my faith to somehow refill, to get a tangible tough of mercy. But it never happened. And I can’t even say I’m confused.
As I said at the beginning of my blog, I turned 53. The same age my dad was when he died. Maybe that’s the reason for this new path, to rediscover who I am now. My dad was a truth seeker. In all ways. Conspiracies, faith, love, general everyday questions. So now it’s my turn.
I suppose I’m a shattered mirror. With all the broken pieces falling in all kinds of directions. The upside pieces are still clear, although broken and misplaced, I can see myself in them, I’m still there. Those are the confident pieces of myself that are still valid. But then the downside pieces. They’re blacked out, I see nothing of who I am or who I used to be. There’s nothing.
Old Cheryl would have thought she needed prayer for reassurance her faith would return. That “this too shall pass” would take ahold and spiritual comfort would once again consume me. But new Cheryl… The emptied Cheryl, doesn’t even know if she needs anything at all. Because right now I feel like drifting wood, floating down a river of new questions and new discovery. Letting go of the why’s and what if’s that have taken complete control over my mind and nostalgia has left me miserable in a Kingdom I never felt welcomed in.
So here I am, asking in my best Anthony Michael Hall as Brian Johnson voice in the Breakfast Club; “WHO, AM I?”
And for some weird reason, I’m no longer pressured to be in a hurry to even know 😉

SELAH,
Gesuschic~