Dear God help me where I fail,
Help me get off this guilt trip,
And help me hold your rail,
Help me change my heart inside,
It needs to be re-described,
Re-jigged, Re-done, so there’s no where for it to hide,
I want to expose it all,
The deep hurt and the distrust,
The lies of other people, the ones I was meant to trust…
To re-define my heart, where those deep beliefs lay,
Which way, oh which way,
Which way is up today?
This uneasy feeling,
In the pit of my stomach,
It can’t come out,
It leaves me reeling,
Uncertain with energy that doesn’t know where to go,
It spins off a tail,
It cuts off my flow.
It’s little, it wants to grow,
Holding it down and it’s making me frown,
My head starts to ache,
It’s getting me down,
I wiggle uneasily without making a sound.
What is this feeling?
Uncertain, new waters,
Voyaging out like I’m trying to find new headquarters,
I’m feeling lost,
A little alone,
Searching for a place that feels like home.
I look up and I pray,
I banish this feeling in Jesus name,
I was better, until I opened my eyes,
The flood gates opened and the feeling is back,
Time to pray again about that.
It’s the feeling of trickery,
The feeling of fool,
The feeling of someone lying to you,
Making you question,
Making you doubt,
In God it’s time to find a new route.
So I sit and I breathe,
I shut my eyes tight,
For now I will pray again with all my might.
Centrelink scammer is all you see,
Living freely, carelessly,
Assumptions are made, disregard,
All because you go to work and work hard,
But what you don’t see is me,
Living faithfully,
Managing little people’s big emotions carefully.
And what you don’t see,
Is the appointments made,
Rearranged, and made again,
Follow ups,
The car drives,
Medical stuff,
Well I can’t let that slide,
Accountability to others,
And their knowledgeable way,
Helping my kids be a functional human,
Society may accept one day,
You don’t see the meltdowns,
The whole body throws,
The tears, the feelings these little kids crow,
And all while you say I just sit on my bum,
Have a free life,
Where I am rich and have it all my way,
In your mind, I’m just having a ball,
Everything is my way,
I should always do better,
And my good enough is never written in your letter.
Not to mention the nappy changes,
I have three, while most of the time you have none,
And while I sit here, writing this out,
I’m praying to God to stop this urge to let you know how I’m really feeling,
Cleaning up, laundering.
Fixing scrapes and bruises,
Headaches and runny noses,
Meals and snacks,
Food shopping,
Don’t forget the upcoming house inspection,
I can’t forget to chase you up dad?
Who scrapes by bare minimum?
While you can’t afford full child support,
But get 4 times more than I do…
And in you house it’s only you,
With your adult child,
Your income would be close to $80k
And you can’t afford to pay?
Here I am, single mum of four,
Living on 1/4 of your income and yet I can’t be poor,
Rolling in the luxuries,
Must be the way,
You don’t see my car needs new breaks,
Fan belt, only just operating.
The broken window I have to pay for because the landlord didn’t want to fix the glass door that sticks…
Another thing I have to organize on my list.
But I can’t, because I have to get my kids stuff seen to.
Paying for another pair of prescription glasses,
My child lost her new ones,
Though they are probably at the school because they don’t pack them up half the time,
But that’s also my fault I can’t find them, like it’s some sort of a crime.
And what do our kids eat?
Don’t you know, they are old enough you should know!
My fridge is full of fruit and vegetables,
Good nut spreads and breads,
Watered down juice and water,
Why what do they eat at yours, mortar?
They come home clogged up, constipated,
And what I am doing is not nearly enough?
Who does the hydro runs,
Avoiding obvious puns,
Around you constantly holding my tongue.
Two of your kids and suddenly I’m no fun?
Really, I wonder if it was almost prolapse that got me, hun?
Or the fact my backs almost literally breaking,
It’s still not enough,
I should have predicted,
And it’s all my way,
Like I’m psychic and planned it this way.
Our bodies are multidimensional,
They are not singular sequence of strands,
So many processes going on,
Its comolex but as doctors don’t seem to understand,
They mostly work on one level playing field,
Not understand near anything else,
It’s gotta be what they specialize in only,
And to them, in their opinion, your fate is sealed.
You know how many times I’ve heard people overcome,
Troublesome, gloom-some, awful noted endings,
That have not come to be.
They didn’t believe their doctor,
Pushing for answers more,
Seeking in the reality,
One of course which they adore.
They seek, they find, they do, they mend,
From gut healing, to immune boosting,
But that’s not what the doctors would recommend….
They’d rather your child, with a low immune system like mine,
Be fat, and fed less nutrients,
But absolutely not on my time!
These guys are specialists,
So why did I not listen, to those that “knew best”,
Those people don’t love my kid, and right on, this mumma knows best.
I didn’t listen, I walked away, I did what I need best,
My child with a low immune system?
She only got the best!
She didn’t go on formula, so the nutritionist could track her calories easily,
Absolutely not, she stayed on breast milk,
With a huge nutrition dense content.
And what where the results?
Kind of annoying if you must know.
To have three hour round trips for 15 minute appointments with these people “in the know”…
For them to be surprised, no chest infractions yet?
No sir, are you surprised? You’re the specialist….
It’s not surprising to me, I gave my child the best.
I boosted her immune system,
And gave her body the best.
She has never been hospitalized, as they predicted,
From a common cold or flu,
No ear infections,
No chest infections,
Nothing of the messed up stew that the specialists predicted…
And to my boy,
Yes doctors have their place, some are very good,
But I still can’t trust them face to face,
They might have saved my boys life,
Only because I asked God to send angels below,
To work with him and comfort him in the slew that was the awful show…
An infant boy, the most dehydrated in the world.
No study done ever, on a baby so bad.
And yes there is shame,
But only because those doctors said,
The fact I had my child was enough cause for them to emotionally whack me on the head….
But as their science and knowledge would say,
My son’s a miracle, and it was they themselves that saved the day…
They can’t say God’s angles where there,
Guiding their hands, and the tiny tubes every single day….
That’s not science they might just say.
Unexplainable, to science, are two of my kids,
And I’ve heard of many others, who where not meant to live…
So when it comes to your story,
Just watch what you are told,
Because not everyone’s predictions are true as they are told.
In Her Heart Healing 
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