Where’s Rivka?

8 Sep

Hi world,

I’ve been holed up in the prison of my mind. Thinking many thoughts, engaging many feelings and investing in hard work. This past year has been a doozie for me and “making it through,” the analogous energy-zapper, meeting me daily at my doorstep. Most of my expression of the past year lives in perpetuity on my instagram page: @mybentlife

I will return soon. I feel the slight heat of a new ember within. The momentary pause of an unrestrained timeline will lift, eventually. And with it? Who knows…

Be assured that my eyes are open, my ears attentive and my spirit alert.

xo, Rivka


Daughter of the King

26 Dec

This past year, 2012, has been the hardest year of my life.  Now those who have known me, all of my days, know some of my stories.  They aren’t such easy stories.  Those same people know some of my recent years past.  Those aren’t such easy years.  So for me to say that this past year has been the hardest of my life…well, let’s just say the statement bears weight.

Now tonight as I was cleaning the kitchen, I thought to myself, “I am blessed.”  And you know what?  I am truly happy.  Yes, this has been the hardest year of my life, yet I am happy and I am blessed.

Is my son completely healed of his depression?  No.  Has the uncertainty of my husband’s paycheck changed?  No.  Has the mucosal storm within my lungs subsided? No.

Even so, the other day (Monday to be exact) I was driving home from the store my husband and I had just visited together.  We had arrived separately and in our own vehicle.  So when I was driving home I had a view of him in his 1948 Studebaker pickup truck within my rear-view mirror.  As I glanced at him behind me I couldn’t help but think, “now that is my true Christmas gift.”  Meaning, Brian is the present I get to enjoy over and over again.  And the thought made me happy.  Still does.

Here I am, tired and still coughing.  With the same life circumstances as before, in fact one more came just yesterday…Brian’s last living grandmother passed away on Christmas day.  She was a light for the four of us, Grandma Mae.  When we would visit with her I would call it “Mae Days.”  She was ready, and in truth we have been mourning our loss of her since this past spring when Brian’s uncle felt her being closer to him, in his home state, was a better choice for her.  Anyway, here we are still maintaining the present course of the past year coupled with sadness from another loss, yet within me I feel blessed and happy.  …go figure.

All I can say is that I know my inner peace is directly reflective of the fact I am a daughter of The King.  My inheritance is rich, ripe, and full.

And now I must rest…again!

Merry (day after) Christmas



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