Peace From Broken Pieces: How to Get Through What You're Going Through
Language: English
Pages: 336
ISBN: 1401928234
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
ISLAMIC CORRESPONDENCE COURSE BASIC LEVEL - BOOK 2
coddled and enabled bad behavior in my family long enough. I seized the opportunity to end the pattern. From where I sat, I had my clothes on and my shoes tied. I couldn’t get back into bed and pull up the covers over my head. One afternoon, I got a call from the school saying that Oluwa had been suspended. When I asked why, I was told that I needed to speak to the principal. I tried for three days before I got a letter indicating that Oluwa had been involved in an incident that was under
the two of us. I wanted to open my eyes, as if that would make what I was feeling less real, but it seemed as if my eyes had been glued shut. Then I couldn’t see Gemmia any more. Instead, I saw what appeared to be a black curtain dangling in front of me. I was focused on the curtain when I felt the jolt in my head. How can this be? Intuitively, I knew that Gemmia’s brain was about to shut down. My entire head felt numb. I also felt a strange sensation in my lower back. No pain, just intense
that you are having a head-on bloody collision between your wannabe and your can never be. CHAPTER 7 AIN’T NOBODY’S PRISONER! When I left New York and moved to Philadelphia, I thought I was leaving the bad times and bad people behind. I wasn’t aware that I was carrying more baggage than the 12-foot moving truck could possibly hold. I actually thought that a new job, in a new profession, in a new city would evoke in me feelings of accomplishment. From the poorhouse to the courthouse was
parents and grandparents may tell us family stories and reminisce about the good old days. However, it’s rare that we get the low-down, dirty, all-the-news-that’s-fit-to-print truth about who did what to whom and what was really going on when we came into being. I believe that my story, like so many other stories, is a demonstration of the generational karma visited upon women as a result of the families we are born into. Some people believe in karma. Others do not. I am not advocating for it
had just nodded off when they arrived: My dearest friends from New York, Tulani and her husband Stan, had come to spend Christmas Day with us at Gemmia’s house. I was exhausted but excited about having guests for the holiday. After the last few days with Gemmia, I needed some comfort and support. My husband was sprawled across the living room sofa, fully dressed, with his shoes on. I wasn’t sure where he had come from or when he had arrived. Like me, he was ecstatic to see our friends, our
