Praying

I've spent most of the night, praying. To my Creator. To my Angels, Spirits, and Guides.

Usually when I ask for help, it's for someone else. It's rare that I ask for help for myself, but this is one of those times.

So many rich people in the world...it wouldn't even make a noticeable dent in their fortunes, just to pay off what I owe these people, and make my home really mine.

I know why we haven't entirely unpacked...it's because this place never truly felt like ours, or felt secure.

Is it so much to ask that I have a secure home? I know I'm not the only one asking that question out loud; however, this time I have to be selfish.

I do what I can to take care of Bast's cats. I do what I can to help other people, because it makes me happy to see them happy. I'm a good person. I deserve a secure home.

I just don't know, anymore. I can fight just about anything, but when the fight is over my basic well-being and security, I end up feeling suckerpunched. Lost. Without hope.

Still haven't heard anything from the lawyer. Called today, got the answering machine.

I don't think it's too much to ask the Universe for a secure home...if They want me to keep doing what I do best, I need a home base to do it from.

I don't think that's too much to ask.