A New Year

Another year has come and gone, in the blink of an eye, it has flashed by. As I sit here contemplating what the last year has been about, and what I have seen, and done and heard and been through, my mind is almost overwhelmed to the point of melt down. If years had themes, this last one would have been extreme reality living.



I have seen three moves, a divorce, three jobs, loss of and gaining of truly solid friendships, made more mistakes that in all of the years of my life combined probably, learned more about Christ that I thought was possible and seen highs and lows I thought would break me equally in two. There were moments of pain so deep in felt like a physical blow, joy so real I could have flown to the heavens. I have lost a husband on the earth, and gained one in heaven. I have seen my dreams, my hopes, my wants and desires crash around me like fine china, only to have it whispered in my ear that those weren't my plates to begin with.



I look back and feel like a piece of silly puddy that has been pulled and pushed and squeezed one too many times. The saying 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger...' hmmm.....



I guess the thing that shocks me the most though is not the changes, since life has a way of changing unexpectedly anyways, and it's not the struggles that I have gone through since I pray daily that God would do anything necessary to bring me closer to Him, no it's neither of those things. It's the miracles that get to me. The answers to prayer that cause me to stop and stare.



A week before Brian and I separated, I prayed that God would do whatever He had to, to build in Brian and myself more passion for Him and more strength of character. I had noticed how hard it was for me to respect Brian and the choice he made, and I knew I couldn't live like that, so I prayed for God to strengthen Him, and change me. A week later, we were separated. Some may see that as morbid, but for me, it was an answer to prayer. We both get a chance to find the person that we were meant to be with. For Brian, someone that can love him without the baggage that I have with him. Someone who can see him differently than I can, not through a lens of hurt and betrayal. For me, I get a fresh start. A chance to finally meet the man that will love me in the way that no one else ever has, not selfishly and unkindly, but safely and wholly.



I spent six months waiting to see what Brian would do with out time separate. Waiting and watching and praying. For months I prayed, I prayed soul and whole heartedly. I needed to do this right. I needed to hear from God... and I did. The biggest decision of my life and He showed up in all of His grandeur. I never doubted, I knew. It was so hard, and so frightening, but to this day, I have never doubted, and His grace is what gave me that hope.



I asked God to heal my heart. All of it, to claim it, make it His. How did He do it? He showed me the beginnings of a romance I never thought was possible. Visions of Him and myself, a hope through the scariest of times. Times when I wasn't sure I could hold on, when all I could do was ask Him for faithfulness when it wasn't deserved, and came and spoke to me and told me, nothing would change what I was to Him.



And the greatest miracle of all. For my birthday, God gave me freedom. 6 short months after my divorce, He freed me. Miracles of all miracles, I no longer hold anything for my ex. I can look at him and say "You were the worst and best thing that ever happened to me, and I am okay with that." I wouldn't know God the way I do now if it weren't for him, but there are scars that still obscure some vision. The most important thing is, I can walk away, and not look back. I can see him, and my heart no longer plunges to the floor. For once, I don't see him as a villain, I see him as broken. And maybe those two things are the same, but right now, they don't seem like it. I don't know where life will take me, and I don't know what there is in store, but I wish him well. I wish him happiness. Miracles of all miracles, I pray for his blessing.

As I sat around the Christmas table this year, with those that I love so near and dear, I couldn't help but stop and pause for a second. It was de ja vu all over again, and I loved every minute.

This year has changed me, no one can argue that. Has it changed for good? Bad? Indifferent? I don't know, but I do know this, the miracles I have seen, the wonders I have known that the heart break I have overcome, they seem to point me in one direction, that of Christ.

Happy birthday, happy Christmas, happy new year, and happy old year. May this next year bring you what it brought me... confusion, hopelessness, pain, redemption, joy, healing and so much more.

Pure Walnut Creek

I was on my lunch break today, trying, as usual, desperately to squeeze two hours worth of things to do into an hour. I had to make it to Macy’s to get my latest fix of fashion from the new winter line of Jessica Simpson shoes. My weight may go up and down faster than kid on a po-go stick, but my shoes will never fail me.

So there I was, driving along, singing a happy Christmas tune from a not-to-cheesy mix I had picked up, and then it happens. Somewhere between Pleasant Hill and Walnut Creek I crossed an invisible line and entered the alternate world of “The Real Housewives of Walnut Creek.”

Suddenly I halted to a stop in an intersection as the local phenomenon of the Mercedes driving woman continued on her rush to the nearest Starbuck’s without a second thought to the sign posted reading “Keep intersection clear.” I had forgotten that in this alternate world the need for caffeine highly surpasses the need for recognition of other motorists. Thank goodness she reminded me.

Shaking off the near collision, I continue on my journey to the Oz of Walnut Creek, Broadway Plaza. My next hurdle looms large and great in front of me…. Parking. Hesitantly, yet determined, I enter the garage. Once again I find myself slamming on the breaks as a Corvette with a sales pitch for a license plate comes screaming down the ramp headed straight for the street without a look sideways. It is the least uncommon of the urban jungle, the male of the pack, the mid-life crisis man. Just in case I forgot what men that have been pampered by years of 500 count sheets and homemade excuses looks like, I was just reminded. Right then...

As I continue on my trek, I begin the ritual of circling the structure continuously in hopes of finding the rare occurrence of catching someone embarking on their journey back from outer space, otherwise known as Nordstrom’s. Like a heat seeking missile, my vision fades in and out from tunnel to wide angle with the reflexes of a trained connoisseur of parking spots. I watch every moving vestige of people. Are they coming? Are they going? Can I get around the monstrosity of a vehicle in front of me in time to snag it from some other hunter on the prowl?

Then, like a ray of light streaming down from heaven, I see a most extraordinary incident. A spot close to the elevator. Could it be? Could everyone else really have missed it? My trained cynicism at such a fortunate occurrence kicks in, I don’t know, something isn’t right. I drove up slow and cautiously. Hmm…

Then I see the answer. The SUV in the spot next to has crowded the “compact’ spot to the point where the only moving vehicle that could fit is a Vespa. I take a closer look and notice that is a Limited edition, 4X4 Sequoia. Decked out to the nines, this thing can climb mountains, pull a boat, run through the Amazon and explore the desert with ease and comfort. It is made to rough and tough with the best of them.

I look over the machine imagining the owner four wheeling through rugged terrain on their way backpacking in the Sierra’s, or pulling a boat out for fishing expedition on Lake Berryessa. Maybe even the ability to snowboard in Tahoe without the worry of chains. Then my eye falls to the license plate and I purse my lips in grim realization. “I’d rather be shopping at Nordstrom’s.” Wow, the irony is not lost on me at all.

See there would have been a justification for the elitist mentality of the vehicle, if maybe it was ever used for its intended use, as if the existence of such an enormous waste of space could have been defensible by the owner had it been used properly, but no. This vehicle satisfies no need other than to give a soccer mom the feeling of being something other than a soccer mom. It gleams and shines in the wintry sun looming large in review mirrors and formidable in oncoming traffic. It gets the message across of “I am my car and my car is me and we are saying get the hell out of our way.” In the alternate universe, anything other than a $60K vehicle is second class citizenry, and the first class lets you know it. Who says only men are trying to compensate with their vehicles?

Slowly I peel my eyes off the rolling ironical nuisance and continue looking for a spot. I pull behind a line of cars as we all wait for the inevitable fate of someone five cars in front waiting for one car to pull out so previously said car can get a spot. As I sit pondering the wasted time, mental energy and gas something dawns on me. I have become what I have been known to refer to as a “Pure Walnut Creek.” I have sat through death defying traffic and painful patrolling for parking while still trying to keep my anger in check, all in the name of fashion. The worlds have started to blend, and without knowing it, I have voluntarily succumbed to the lemming mentality. An acrid taste fills my mouth as the realization hits me full force. I have to get out of here…

I pull out of line and onto the street. Immediately the traffic is lighter as I am heading in the opposite direction of the suburban mecca. I watch in satisfaction as I am pulling away from those running to pay homage. Freedom has never felt so good, and silently I promise myself… If I ever find myself tempted to sacrifice my car to the god of material possession, while bleaching my hair blond and conveniently forgetting to do my eye-brows, I will pack it all in and head to Canada. I figure socialism should set me straight.

Choices

I hate how hard choices are, especially when you know what the right one is, and you really don't want to choose it.

I have spent a lot of time examining my heart lately. Wondering at my motives, and the patterns that are set, proding me in one direction or another. Patterns that change view, like looking at truth through a colidescope. It's all jumbled, upside down, cut into pieces, and staring at it for too long gives you a headache. Where do the pieces fit? What is why and why is who and who is how.

Scripture gives to many good examples of walking out of woundedness. In Hosea, God talks to him about his wife. 7"She will pursue her lovers, but she will not overtake them; and she will seek them, but will not find them then she will say, 'I will go back to my first husband, for it was better for me then than now!' 8"For she does not know that it was I who gave her the grain, the new wine and the oil, and lavished on her silver and gold, which they used for Baal."

For a woman sold into slavery by her father, she knew nothing else. The kindness of a husband who loved her could not touch the her heart, it was solid. Every time Hosea must have touched her, it must have been every other man, and every time he spoke to her, in her sight, it must have been the mouths of people who had told her she was nothing but what could satisfy. So she ran. She ran back to what she knew. She ran back to what she knew how to handle, to what she could control. She sold herself for what she knew she could gain, grain, and vineyards, and fabric, and everything else she needed. This was hers, this was the world she understood, the way it worked, this made sense. This is how she received her love. You can hear her cry "Don't you understand? This is all there is. Nothing more! Don't mock me by trying to convince me of something else. What, so you married me? You will tire of me the way the others did. I will anger you, and you will take away your love. I have hoped for love before, and lost. Don't ask me to again. Not when I know it is impossible. This is all I am meant for. Leave me here." So she ran. She ran away from hope, from the unknown, from comfort that had to be temporary. From a love that caressed her for a moment leaving her breathless, but knowing, would never last.

9"Therefore, I will take back My grain at harvest time and My new wine in its season. I will also take away my wool and my flax given to cover her nakedness. 10"And then I will uncover her lewdness in the sight of her lovers, and no one will rescue her out of My hand. 11"I will also put an end to all her gaiety, her feasts, her new moons, her Sabbaths and all her festal assemblies. 12"I will destroy her vines and fig trees, of which she said, 'These are my wages which my lovers have given me ' and I will make them a forest, and the beasts of the field will devour them. 13"I will punish her for the days of the Baals when she used to offer sacrifices to them and adorn herself with her earrings and jewelry, and follow her lovers, so that she forgot Me," declares the LORD.

So He took it away. All she thought she knew, what she could control, all that she put her hope in, it turned to dust. She ran back, back to nothing. It was even more empty than before. She looked out over what she had, and now was lost, and must have raged. "Why!!??" You can hear her scream. "Can I have nothing?! Is there anything left for me? Can I not even have what is deserved?! Am I cursed? Am I the penance for the land?!" I can see her on her knees, clothes torn, holding the dry sand from a once fertile soil, tears streaming down her face, staring into the sky screaming. "Will you leave me nothing?" Broken her head falls. "What am I to You? Where have You been?" You can hear the silence thick and heavy. She falls, hugging her knees. "You win. I'll go back. To what I don't know, but I'll go back. He must hate me now anyways. At least if you does he won't ask me for my heart. I don't even know how to give that."

Dejected she walks home.

14"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, I will bring her into the wilderness and speak kindly to her. 15"Then I will give her her vineyards from there, and the valley of Achor as a door of hope and she will sing there as in the days of her youth, as in the day when she came up from the land of Egypt. 16"It will come about in that day," declares the LORD, "That you will call Me Ishi (husband) and will no longer call Me Baali (master). 17"For I will remove the names of the Baals from her mouth, so that they will be mentioned by their names no more. 18"In that day I will also make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, the birds of the sky and the creeping things of the ground and I will abolish the bow, the sword and war from the land, and will make them lie down in safety. 19"I will betroth you to Me forever; yes, I will betroth you to Me in righteousness and in justice, In loving kindness and in compassion, 20and I will betroth you to Me in faithfulness. Then you will know the LORD. 21"It will come about in that day that I will respond," declares the LORD. "I will respond to the heavens, and they will respond to the earth, 22and the earth will respond to the grain, to the new wine and to the oil, and they will respond to Jezreel. 23"I will sow her for Myself in the land I will also have compassion on her who had not obtained compassion, and I will say to those who were not My people, 'You are My people!' and they will say, 'You are my God!'"

When He promised her these things, I wonder if she believed Him? I don't know the ending, no one does. It's the greatest romantic cliffhanger the world has ever seen. Does she let Him, and subsequently, her husband, into her heart? Does she ever heal?

I guess for me, I have to believe she does. I have to believe that during the moments of her life, her life would stop, and for a moment, tunnel vision would overwhelm as He stopped her and caressed her face saying "Perfect one, my dove, my wife, my life: my everything is yours." I have to trust that in those moments she knew, she was his heartbeat, and that knowledge helped her see her Hosea differently. In my heart of hearts, I see her, belly on her hand, her other child playing with her husband, and tears silently coarsing down her face as the love she feels grips her heart like a vice. I have to believe it was all returned, and made not only right, but she knew it was not from her hands, but the hands of her true Husband, the real giver of every good and perfect gift.

You see, I am her, that's why I have to believe. I don't know where I am in the story, but I do know this, I am her. I feel and see and know her. I have been betrothed to my real Husband, and run, chasing after what I thought I wanted. Fearing a broken heart again, I have my heart has run. It closes involuntarily as I struggle with trusting when betrayal and rejection are more known than love. As I don't know how her story ends, neither do I see the end of mine yet. I stare down the road, heart beating, knowing I can't turn around, but fearing what lies on the other side. He has said He will always respond, as He told her, but I fear, as I believe she did, another broken heart. I have to believe though, that He is present. I need to believe He is, and whether or not I like it, the hope is there. With all of the crushing I have tried to do, it is there, and I can't deny it, so I will believe. I will wait for Him to speak kindly too me.

My heart

One day you wake up, and you realize, there is nothing without Him. Life has no meaning, the sun doen't shine, the earth won't move... without Him. You wake up and find, if He wasn't real, if 'He' was just the opium of the masses, your world would fall apart. Every memory, every promise, every hope, every truth lies at His feet... and that makes you happy.

Acts says that in Him we move in and live and have our being. I agree. What purpose do we have without Him? What meaning? Cosmic coincindence? It can't be, coincidence itself wouldn't exist without Him. How colorless the world would be if it hadn't been purposed for Him and what exists in Him? How lifeless would my heart be?

Those of us that know we exists only for Him, and that He is what holds us together at the core of our being know, we know, and we feel, and see, and believe, and we rejoice. How can it be denied? How can one believe anything else? The rocks would cry out if we didn't praise, the earth would shout in need to release the truth that it was built on.

My life has been built on Him, and I woke up and realized, everything I was, and wanted and needed and believed and hoped for was based on Him and His truth. How frightening, exciting, harrowing, passion filled, inspired, confused and cautioned does that make me? I can't, and won't even try to put it into words.

This God that holds my life in His hands, the God that I worship, speaks to me, guids me, and holds me. How... heavenly. Could you ask for anything more? Not only does He save, He loves the soul, the personhood, the everything we are. When we cry and scream, when we fight and curse, when we run and hide... when we sin and forget Him, still He loves. Too much... too much...

To You, the one I give my life to, the one I live and breath for, my prayer... stay near. Breathe with me, bypass my mind, speak to my heart. Take me, all of me, move me and shape me. I live for no other reason that to know you. I have no purpose but to seek you. Thank you. Thank you for the answered prayer, show me more of you everyday. My hunger overwhelms me and my need consumes me. Your heart is all I desire, your mind all I want to know. Beautiful You, wonderful You, amazing You, teach me Master. I am your sheep. You have my heart... it beats for you and you alone.

Sound crazy? I hope and pray it does...

2 Corinthians 5:4 (New International Version)

4For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

To You
This is for you...

I had a discussion with a friend tonight. It was enlightening I guess I should say. We talked about Brian, and the loss of friends, and the abandonment I felt, I guess I should say, I thought we talked about those things. It brought up so much, and I spent a long time thinking and praying about what it arose in me. though the immediate sting is gone, and freedom is calling my name, I can't ignore the wounding I still feel from the abandonment I experienced. How do you handle that? How do you balance what should have been, with what is?

The person I was talking with said his heart was for reconciliation. We talked about fault and who's was who's and how hurting people hurt people. I guess that irked me a little. The problem is, it sounded like so much of an excuse - he called it a reason. Optimism aside, the downfall of excuses is they can be true, but they don't make anything right. Deceptive thought.

I asked if I would always be seen as Brian's ex-wife, the woman who left him.Would anyone ever again accept me for me? To this day I still feel as though, it would please so many to see me back with Brian. Like that would right the world and put it back correctly on it's axis. How unfair. To be pigeon-holed so completely. Isn't that just another form of manipulation?
I wondered allowed if it was possible for people to understand what I had gone through and would anyone try to ever see it from my point of view. It was a hard conversation and I wanted so bad for my heart to be seen in it, for me to really be known. I found myself close to tears so many times. I just wanted to know people were willing to try to see me and my side.

Then I realized... it didn't matter. There is a space above all of this 'she said, he said' stuff. It's a place where you begin to realize, I can't ever understand the depth of someone else's pain, and to make judgements about what is right and wrong for them is beyond incomprehensible. I am not their God, and likewise, no one is mine. Freedom once again poked it's lovely head into my soul as I realized, no one had to be my God either. If people have their opinions and thoughts about me and my life, I can stand back and say, good for them. That's what they think is right, but it never has to touch me. I know what God has said to me, and that is enough.

I guess I can let go now. Things will never be the same, and I realize they shouldn't be. I loved with every molecule of my being, giving, sacrificing, molding, changing, everything I knew to do. And that wasn't just for my ex, that was for all of those that I loved and called friends. Once again though, I find myself loving people and hoping it will truly be returned, only to be crushed when it is not. My fault though, my hope can't be in men. It has to be in Christ. I loved well, and I can't let those who failed because they are human rob me of loving in the future. Easier said than done, but I have a great God that will see me through. One that has promised to make me whole and never sacrifice me the I have been in the past.

So I don't grieve anymore, my God and His redemption is complete, and one day, all will see that. Until then, the knowledge is enough for me.
I want you to know, all of this being said, those of you that literally told me they couldn't know me anymore for the place I was in, I am okay. I pray for you, and I love you still. Not the same way, but in a distance way. You did what you thought was best, and though it hurt me in ways you will never know and I hope you don't, my Jesus is faithful to heal, and I trust Him with my heart.

I loved you all so much, and that is why it hurts so much, but you might not understand that, and once again, that is okay. Part of helaing is reconciling by saying, "I was hurt, but it doesn't have to rule me anymore." I wish we could all go back to the way things were, but as a famous movie quote says "Some wounds are just too deep." (Can you place that? ;-) I want to say I hope you see my heart, and appreciate it, but I realize now that you don't have to. That is your choice. All I can do is be as authentic as I can, and trust my Savior with the rest.
I pray for all of you, and want you to know the blessings and intimacy of Christ that I know. Pursue Him as I have, and He will not let you down.

Merry Christmas, and I love you all,

Sara

Did you think I wouldn't know

Did you think I wouldn't know?

You thought you were sly, you thought you were cool. PS, I saw right through it. You thought you were shaded, no, you were just shady.

I know what you were trying to do. Buy me something when you should have done it years ago. Tell me you are still here, I know you are, the thing is, I don't care anymore. Thought you had power, guess what, it was an illusion. I know, a shock to me too.

You can't get in my mind anymore. You tried, for years, but guess what, little by little, I am ripping you out. Like a cancer I didn't know I had, I started finding ways to see you as you were, a charlaton. Do you even see yourself that way? Probably not.

It wasn't even your money you bought a gift for me with. Wish you got the point. Stolen money like stolen years. Still taking what isn't yours I see. Interesting.

And what were you going to tell me? What could you say? Years of nothing but manipulation, and now you have something of worth to say? Don't be alarmed by the sarcasm all over my face, you should see it coming. You mean Yahoo personals isn't working out? Your next victim saw it coming sooner than I did? Too bad, it must be tough for a man like you.

Tried to ruin a day special to me, but sorry to say, I gave a few minutes, than I put you away. See, you thought you knew me, but that woman, she is gone. That sotto voice I used for you, sweet, innocent, broken.... gone. It's just me left. Strong. Stronger than you thought. Scary isn't it? Someone else has control. Someone else walked in, told you how it was, and walked away. Did you hear the music as I walked away? I did. It was loud, and it said "Well I never saw coming, should have started running a long long time ago, never thought to doubt you, better off without you, more than you know, I 'm slowly getting closure, I guess it's really over, I'm finally getting better, picking up the pieces, spending all of these years putting my heart back together, the day I never thought I get through, I got over you."

Good try. I give you props for your try, you just didn't know, I see through you. I got smart, smarter than you ever thought I was. I guess you should have listened a long time ago when I told you I had something to give. Now you might know, or you might not, but that doesn't matter, because I might have been curious, but in that moment of choice, I didn't want to hear what you had to say. I already knew, it would just be lies.....

You just didn't think I knew.....

A thin line between love and hate

How can you love someone and hate someone so much at the same time? How can you want them to ask for forgiveness, and yet not want to forgive? Exhaustion overwhelms as I think about him and me and everything in between. I fear seeing him, yet morbid fascination keeps me looking around every corner. I wonder, does he read my blog? Does he hear what I say? Does he see me when I don't see him? What does he think?

In my heart of hearts, I want to see him fall. Fall of his pride, and crash, right in front of me. I want him shown to all for the charlatan he is. I want justice. I want him to come to me begging for forgiveness broken over the pain he caused me for years, the wounds he dug deeper everyday, the trauma he brought to my doorstep. I want hear him ask for my forgiveness, then I want to take him through every memory, and instance to feel what I felt. To know what I go through now and how hard healing is. I want to see him suffer as I have. The justice of knowing he finally understands, his eyes are open and he finally sees. Then I want to see him shout from the roof tops all of the wrong things he did and tell everyone that believes ill about me how wrong they are and how right I am. I want my character in the community back and the understanding of what was once friends. I want vengeance and justice and... and... something. I don't know, something that will ease this weight.

You know what the thing that sucks the most about wanting all of this? I know that even if I got it, it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't change a damn thing. Because what I really want is impossible. I want him to have been something he wasn't and won't ever be. I secretly want him to finally see me and my worth and love it, like he never did before. The sickest part is, I still want him to love me and the hard part is, it will never happen. It CAN'T ever happen. I don't want him, but I want him to want me. I want some freedom in at least knowing he feels something.

Someday I will have to heal from this. I will have to move on. Hopefully it will be the day I learn that though he treated me with no value, I still have it, and I don't need to hear it from him. Hopefully it will be the day I no longer feel a stab of so magnanimous emotion when I see or think of him.

Until then, I pray. Not for him, I can't yet, but for me, for the justice of my God.

Stupid Boy

How could you...

Make me believe I was beautiful, but only to you
That I was smart, but not as smart as you
Tell me what I had to give was good, but not enough?

How could you...

See me but not know me,
Want me but take only what you wanted,
Tell me choose, then hate me for choosing.

I gave all, and it was good, I loved much and it was free, I hoped hard and was true. You took what was offered, then what wasn't; you were loved but used only for your own desires; you allowed me to hope, knowing you would never fulfill.

You stole the only thing I had, and told me it wasn't enough. You apologized with your fingers crossed behind your back. You spoke, but never acted, and your messages were clear. You threatened me with the love you professed to have. You caged me and told me to fly for you, tied down and told to run. Black was white and white black, love was sacrifice and pain was right. It was my problem, and you were the answer even when it hurt. I gave innocence and purity, and it came back to me rags.

And for awhile, I thought it was my fault. For a while I blamed myself. I believed you, and it hurt. So I died a little more everyday. I denied pain and quited the screaming in my head. I clipped my wings for you, and almost forgot how to fly.

But not a moment too soon, I was rescued. Barely breathing, on life support, Someone stepped in. Like a morbid scene on the side of a road, I was lifted out while onlookers watched with curiosity. No one lending a hand, but then One came down and lifted me out.

For a while, He attended me, so wounded I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, I felt His comfort. It gave me the strength to come back, to fight, to become conscious again. But the wounds ran deep...

I woke up, and ran. Scared to death that you were right, that I would never be enough, that I was tainted and would never be whole again. My heart closed. It was the only way I had known to survive. I was so calloused, I didn't recognize the touch of true love from the One that loves perfectly. I pushed Him away because you had used His name. If His love was like yours, I couldn't give anymore. I loved Him though, in word and in action, the way I loved you, but couldn't let Him in. The trust was broken to early, and the hope had perished. But He, unlike you, persisted. He was gentle when you had been rough, He was quiet when you had yelled, and He respected my requests when you had never listened. He was patient with His love when you had threatened me with yours. Then one day I prayed, and the I saw the fear that you had helped cultivate, and knew that was what held me captive. I saw the doubt I had believed, and knew it would choke me. I turned them out. I gave them up.

Now He shows me true love. He is nursing me back from the grave with patience and tenderness even when I don't recognize it as that. Even when I confuse quiet presence with silence since all I had known was aggression and control, He is patient. Even when I fear He will stop loving me when I don't do what He wants as you did, He waits. When you confused treasuring me with pacifying me, He speaks to my heart and breathes life into. He romances with truth, not deceit.

And even though you have forgotten me, for once, the broken pieces you have left behind are not mine to pick back up as they had been so many times. Someone else is putting me back together, and this time, the pieces fit perfectly. Stupid boy, you had it all. Now it belongs to someone else, and He gets what wasn't good enough for you, and treasures it. He saw it all, knows what you were to me. He was the one that gave me to you, and one day, you will answer to Him for what you did with the gift He gave you. He was the one that convinced me I was more than you said.

I don't hate you, but I still remember you.
I don't wish you ill, but I can't pray for you yet.
I don't miss you, but I still fight your ghosts.

Stupid boy.

But now there is hope where there had been none,
Love where there had been fear,
Innocense where it had been taken.

Stupid boy, you could have been apart of it, now you will never know it again.

A shock to the sytem

I know I said I wouldn’t anymore but....

I wanted to title this one "What to do when you see your ex husband out on a date with another woman," but I thought that was too long. I thought there were a few that should read this.
When you are the one to leave someone, you think to yourself "I will be the first to move on and it was my choice. And because of that, I will be okay."

Then you see him, and you don't just see him, you see him out with another woman, and she is everything you are not. At that moment, your whole world crashes, everything you have thought, you have believed, hoped in, lived in, crashes around you like pitifully thin champagne flutes. Your whole world view thins, tunnel vision sets in and all you see is nothing and everything at once. You tell yourself you are okay, you knew this would happen, you tried to prepare yourself, but no, nothing takes away the shock, the absolute powerlessness of the moment, and all of the sudden you are lonelier than you have ever been. Your whole marriage flashes before your eyes, and for a split second, you relive five years of relationship at a cheap bar in the heart of party town. The music slows, the voices around you dim, the lights get brighter, and you see them. He is looking down at her the same way he looked at you, wearing the same shirt he bought from Armani Exchange when he was with you, and the same coat he bought from Banana Republic he never gave you when you were cold. She smiles up at him content that she is the only one he sees, but you/I see otherwise. I know. I have seen that look before. He use to reserve it for me. Told me it was for me only.

Snapping back to reality, I look around aburptly remembering where I am, in line at the rest room, with my sister, trying to show her a good time on one of her too few nights without her kids. "Did he really get over me that quick?" I thought it before I could stop myself. I guess it was true, I really was that forgettable, and damn it, she isn't ugly. In fact, she is beautiful. I look down at the thin gold band I wear on my wedding finger to keep most men at bay and wonder why I wear it. If he doesn't, why should I?
With sad realization, I know. He has forgotten me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't miss him. I don't want to be with him, and wonder of all wonders, I don't even wish him ill, but still... is it too much to ask that the man that hurt me so badly, that cut me to the core, that manipulated me for years into believing I was nothing more than something to please him, would hurt over losing me for at least a little while? Is it too much to ask that I don't see him with another woman at a bar I am at with a family member of all people. The urge to grab some random buy and kiss him is great, but I resist knowing it will do no good. My heart has already felt the weight.
I guess I just didn't think I would see him with her. I guess I was hoping I was wrong, that he wasn't already dating. I guess the truth is, I hoped wrong.

As I stand there, I think about him, and her, and what I have seen. Does she really know him? Doe sshe know that he hates mayonaise, and if he gets any food on it, he will send it back immediately? Has she seen the side of him that will ignore what you want and take what he thinks is his? Has she seen him yell for what seems like days but really is two hours at her for nothing more than just wanting to go home? Does she know that if he doesn't get his way, he will cry, and yell, or hit the wall until he does? I know those things. I have seen them. I know what it feels like to have him ignore you when you are right, or yell at you and kick the couch until you give in. She might not know that yet.

Then I think about the things he knew about me. Few I guess. He never paid attention to what there was about me. How I used to always go over to his house because he was tired, or how I got used to playing video games since that is what he loved. He never saw how I planned time with my friends around when he would be home so we would have enough time together. He never paid attention to hwo I used to send him notes and call him just to say "I love you" or "How was your day?" He didn't see my passion for truth, or honesty, and he mocked my desire for authenticity. See the truth is, he never saw me for me. He never knew what I had to offer besides a warm body and a pleasing face. He didn't know my passion, my hopes, my dreams, my desires. He knew what he wanted to know, and now I know what I know, and that is, there is better out there.

I look at my cell phone, it has taken me two minutes to remember why. Why I left him, why there is better, and why, even when everyone shunned me, I knew what was best, because five months later, I still see the truth. I still know. It hurts, I won't lie, it hurts to be so easily forgotten, but it would have hurt more to stay. I know my God, and I know my Jesus, and I know that He has put hope in my heart, truth in my head, purity as my name and fall in my eyes.

And He and only He, see my heart and what I was to my ex. And He and only He, know my ex's heart. Vengeance in the Lord's, and though my heart may fail me, He is my portion forever. Ame

A shock to the sytem

Why?

Why is that we believe that when what we have has left us empty, we believe we need something so new it has to look like a different geography?

I have spent a lot of time contemplating what it means to start over. I have spent countless hours (including this moment) listening to Augustana's Boston. Opening lyrics being

"In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun...
Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,
This world you must've crossed... you said...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,

She said

You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,
Essential yet appealed, carry all your thoughts across
An open field,

When flowers gaze at you... they're not the only ones who cry"

When they see you, You said..."

It begs the question, do we what means a new start? Do we need to change location, or is it just the need to see something so different from what we have previously known?

I was having a very fruitful conversation with a few friends, when it dawned on me. We were talking about marriage (I know a great topic for me), when I heard myself saying "I don't know what I am looking for, I just know it has to look a lot different from what I have known."

That truth struck me so deep, I didn't even know I had known it. Life is so funny. We spend so much time dreaming about what we want, we don't spend a lot of time making it happen. I used to think that I had to leave what I knew, what I have been used to, to make something different.

"She said I think I'll go to Boston...
I think I'll start a new life,
I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name,
I'll get out of California,
I'm tired of the weather,
I think I'll get a lover and fly em out to Spain...I think I'll go to Boston,
I think that I'm just tired
I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind...
I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,
I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah,"

As much as I have spent the last months dreaming and thinking that my life lay beyond the horizon, beyond the geographical point on the map that I knew, maybe, just maybe, it is about not knowing where or what we are lead to, just knowing it has to be different. I have wanted so bad to believe that if I do something to make it change, it will, but isn't it true that no matter where we go, if we don't change from within, we just take those problems with us?

I have spent a lifetime trying to change my life. Working to make it different, spinning my wheels like a hamster in a cage, hoping that if I can change enough, no one will recognize me. Maybe I wouldn't even recognize myself, and that would be good right? But why then, do I feel the need to take me with me where ever I go? Could it be because for once, I recognize that even I don't know what I need? Could it be that I am the one that needs to let go? Maybe it isn't the past, or the present or even anyone else that holds me back, it is just me? It is my own struggle to see that beyond my image of myself lies the truth? Paul in Scripture says that "We see dimly now, but one day our vision will be clear." Okay I am paraphrasing, but you get the point.

Yes, I want to leave behind what I don't want apart of me, and yes I want to be different, but can I release enough to know that maybe I don't know what I do want to look like? Can I drop my preconceived notions and just hope? Can I believe that there is hope and it doesn't have to look like a move, or a new characteristic, or even new thoughts, but maybe, it is something I didn't even think of. We are told that we change, but how many of us think we know what we need to change into? And then how many of us actually change into that? Could it be that it is a good thing that we don't control our own lives? Hopefully.......

You call this what?

About a week ago at work, I was listening in on a coworkers conversation. I know no one there yet, and have no life of my own to speak of, so I sickly live vicariously through those around me that don't know I am doing it. It's my own twisted version of Sex in the City suburban style.

She was talking about the evening before. I was shocked to find out, she was talking about a first date with a gentleman. They had met at a coffee shop and then went to a movie. She got there first, bought a coffee than sat down to wait. About ten minutes past when the gentlemen was supposed to arrive, a text went off in her hand telling her he was running late, and could she buy him a latte for when he got there. So she did, telling her friend with a smile of contentment as if instead of buying him a coffee since he was late, he had told her he was late because he had just saved a group of kittens being thrown into a trash compactor by his neighbors evil son.
So after their coffee, the gentleman, instead of taking her to the afore mentioned movie, asks if she would like to go back to his place. Once again she says this with a look of sick adoration that can only be described as hopeful oblivion. More to my own shock, she went. Huh? Okay well anyways, they go back to his place, apparently they fool around some, and she goes home.

Wait...did I miss something. Where is the date in this date? Best part of all, they met through a mutual friend and when he asked her out...it was over text messaging. Does anyone besides me see the wrongness of this picture? Is this really how dating goes now a days? This can't be it. Did I really leave a very bad marriage for very bad dating?

Okay, so the other night, as an experiment, I went on my first date after the divorce. Don't get me wrong, I have no intention of dragging some pour sap into the conundrum of my own melodramatic divorce saga, but I really had an itch and I had to scratch it. Fortunately I scratched it with someone I was only mildly attracted to and had no actually interest in knowing past a few unsatisfying hours of bad flirting and cheap wine.

See I had to know what it was like to go out on a date after 4 some plus years of not being on the market. I had to know if things had changed, if it was done differently. Oh Nelly, was I in for a big surprise.

Okay so this one didn't start out as bad. He did ask me out over the phone. But here's a question for you...does "Hey my roommate is going to be out of town for the weekend, want to come over?" actually qualify as a date? Ugh! I have been out of the game too long! Okay so I give him the benefit of the doubt. He offers to buy dinner and rent the movie himself, so hey, at least he has buying a meal on the schmuck who took my coworker out, granted it was Pizza Hut. So I show up, fashionable late of course. He takes my coat, asks if I would like a glass of wine. Wow, not bad, this might not turn out so bad, I think to myself. Really though, the first sign should have been, when he took my coat, he felt the need unbutton it himself.

So I take the wine, and sit down on the couch. We're talking as he pours some for himself, about the weather, what movie we want to watch and when to order the pizza. Things seem to be fine. Finally we pick a movie, and he sits down next to me. The movie starts and everything is going okay...wait, did I just feel something on my ass? No, couldn't have been. Brush it off. Movies funny, and the wine is going to down smooth, so he asks if I would like another glass. Sure, not much though, have to drive you know (and also do not have any desire to be even slightly intoxicated with you since I am pretty sure you grabbed my ass but I can't prove it). Comes sits back down, wait again...you weren't sitting this close before, and by this close now I mean, I didn't know that drinking wine with you meant we had to share a liver. Ever heard of the personal bubble buddy? "Um, I have to use the bathroom..." Otherwise know as "I need to get away from you since you seem to be breathing down my neck right now and maybe you will get the hint to move away you big moron." Come back, sit back down FARTHER AWAY. Start watching the movie, and damn that Chris Rock, I was too distracted to see 'my date' sneak up on my again! Good heavens, do I have a sign on me that says "Please I want to sit on your lap?" Then in a surprising move of gall and agility, his arm finds it way round me and the next thing I know I am tucked so close into his body I need the jaws of life and a tub of butter to get me out. His arm firmly clamped around my waist, the seconds tick off as I try to figure out how to get out of this one since I left the mace in my purse across the room. Note to self: keep small pocket size mace can available on first dates.

The doorbell!!!! Pizza! Thank God! I have never been so happy to see a pizza boy in my life. We start to eat, and thankfully there is some space between us. Then in the greatest feat of human ballsiness I have ever seen, when the man takes my plate into the kitchen he literally traps me with his arms and plants his lips on mine (I hesitate to call it a kiss since the term usually includes the mutual agreement of said act). Arms on both sides of me, as he stands and I am sitting trapped between him, a large red wall and a couch that would have made Al Bundy proud I can think of nothing besides the sheer shock factor. And I am not just talking a peck on the mouth, I am talking I didn't have time to close my mouth and he definitely used that to his advantage. No joke, I was mouth raped. About twenty-two seconds later (since that is how long it took me to get my coat and purse), I was out the door.

All I have to say is, things have definitely changed. Since when did the purchase of a cheap bottle of wine, even cheaper pizza and the acceptance of these items all of the sudden equal the invitation of bodily contact that would have made a porn star blush and an assault on the mouth that I think bruised my gums? Wow, I feel old.

Autumn

I love autumn. Maybe it's the changing colors, maybe it's the cooler temperatures, or maybe it's just that most of the world's little rug rats are finally back in school. No, I'm teasing, it's not just one of those things, it's all of them.
But seriously, there is something about fall. Some of my most vivid memories are of late September, early October night soccer practice. Fresh cut grass, the sun slanting at just the right angle to catch every little evening bug in the last rays. Life was so peaceful then.
It seems as though autumn lulls the world into a state of preparation. Anticipation of Thanksgiving, and Monday night football, this is the season of tradition. The season of celebration. The months of fall and winter have those few holidays where the whole world stops everything they are doing for just a few minutes, and observes some of the oldest traditions in our history. There is familiarity and family in the air. The death of the old comes as a promise of the chance at a rebirth with the spring.
The changing colors settle in like stain glass windows of nature telling a story of more to come. For most spring brings promise, for me, fall holds the key to my soul. Death holds the key to life. I think I have always known that. When Christ died, it was to break free the victory. When I die to the past, to the pain, to the unbearable heat of a summer, hope breaks free.
The heat of the summer has done it's work to shed unneeded extras, now the fall comes with the promise of beauty and rest, with winter around the corner and it's water to cleanse through.
Maybe I have been waiting for my whole life for fall. The beauty in the death of the old. The promise and anticipation for the cleansing winter. It has been a long and hot summer, and I am ready for autumn.

Dry Bones

Something unexpected, that hasn't happened in years, occured this morning. It was so strange, I didn't even recognize it at first.

I woke up joyful. I don't even know what to make of it. I am not sure why, and I am not sure I want to question it. I am afraid the feeling is so fragile, so skittish, that if I move too quickly, or think too hard, it will vanish like a vapor. It has sprung up small and tentative, like the first sprouts of green after a long winter, but it is there none the less.

It is amazing the way one emotion can lead to so many others. Just the touch of joy, and the deepest longings for more are awakened. The part of myself that had died off in mourning and fear is kindled back to life. Even as I write, I am afraid I may be squelching it. With the joy comes the slightest bit of hope, and that really frightens me. I remember in Shawshank Redemption, Red looks at Andy and says "Hope is a dangerous thing, it will drive you mad." I know that feeling all too well.

Last night was journaling and praying, and I started reading one of my favorite passages, Ezekiel 37:4-14. It is the passage of the Valley of Dry Bones. I had read it before, and always loved it, but this time, I read beyond just where Ezekiel prophesies, onto the interpretation of the prophecy. The Lord Himself interprets. He says that the valley of people are the House of Isreal, and that their 'hope has perished.' How perfect. That is the only way I could ever describe how I have been feeling lately. My hope has perished. He goes on to say that He will basically redeem them, and bring them out of that valley, and they will know that it was Him that did it. He has allowed my hope to perish. I am okay with that. The knowledge doesn't bring it back to life, but it does bring a sense of relief. If I am dry bones, if I am waiting for His breath of life to fill me and bring me up, then my waiting, my just sitting where I am at, it is okay. He knows. That is relief. I can't do it myself. He has brought me to this place, so that I know He is the only thing that can bring me out.

I may not be where I want to be, I may not be 'okay,' but I am getting there. I have to wait to be filled. That filling will be so sweet. I hate to say it, but my mind still goes to the 'if' it ever happens, but maybe that is where it is supposed to be right now. Maybe we all need to die a little to be resurrected. And not just to self, but to hope and joy also. The knowledge that only He is the true giver of both deepens it. Takes away the sense of fragility, and falsehood. What a prayer to pray, but I do pray that the people I love die and are resurrected to full knowledge of Him. I still pray I am also.

Memories

As I sit down at the computer, an old familiar song comes on the stereo. Bittersweet, so bittersweet. A flood of memories come back. This particular artist, this particular song, they are a different time a place. Fall in Napa on my birthday, sipping wine outside watching the vineyards in different colors. Happy couples laughing as they enjoy each others company. Setting sun streaming through the trees turning the air into soft colors of gold and yellow. Feeling happy and content, in a pretend world. It is Capitola and a proposal, it is cigars and friends sitting around for hours. A dart board and dinner on a Wednesday night. Leaning over the car armrest for a kiss. It is our last happy memory.
As I think back, I remember how enraptured I was in those moments. I remember thinking I hoped the moment would never end. Pretending, for just a second, it could always be like this. Not wanting to get up from that spot, knowing that if I turned away for just an instant, the moment would pass like a burst bubble.
I wonder, did I always know? Was that sinking in the pit of my stomach not fear, but a touch of clairvoyance? This knot in my throat tells me, maybe, just maybe I always knew. The fairytale I had created, and molded from dry clay was just that, a fairytale.
I sit here, at 2am, letting the music wash over me. I let it take me back to those times, those dreams, those intimate moments, however false they were. You see, the thing is, they weren't false at the time. They were true, and beautiful, and for tonight, for this 4 minute song, I grieve. I grieve like it happened yesterday, like a death has occurred.
I have spent so much time defending my choice, it seems there hasn't been much room for grief. It would seem the question would be, if I left, why would I grieve? It hurts so much to remember what someones actions stole from me. Like the bubble that burst, the dreams it was holding fell to the floor and crashed like the wine glasses we bought in Napa. The warmth of the person you loved sleeping next to you stolen. The quiet nights of comfort and peace knowing you were with someone that cared, stolen. Safety, security, peace... stolen. Coming in out of the rain to a fire and a soft love to fall into, stolen. The fairytale...stolen.
However ill-gotten, however empty, the love I thought I had, pulled out from under me like a cheap rug in a bad magic show. All the love I gave, the hope I poured in, the energy, the belief, the encouragement, the times I fought tooth and nail against everyone that disapproved, gone. Vanished like it never mattered. Yes I grieve, I miss my husband. As much as I don't ever want to be his wife again for all the pain he caused, I miss being his wife, I miss loving him. I miss even the minuscule amount of love he gave me.
It hurts that an overplayed song can do this, but sometimes, in the late moments, I break. When no one is around to censor and ask why, I break. I am caught off guard, and in the moment, all I can do is let the grief consume.

How to handle news about your ex

Okay so, after a few months of doing the whole "I am going to pretend that instead of divorced, my ex is dead," game, I finally came to the realization that I during the next year while I am waiting in the terminal of life (AKA my parents house), I will end up seeing him again. I am already playing the "Is that his car? Okay slowly take your foot of the accelerator and do not ram it from behind," game, so I might as well get used to the notion.

I will admit, I have had some fun dabbling in the "If I saw him in a dark alley what would I do...." game. And as tempting as it has been after a long night of Two Buck Chuck/Sex in the City therapy sessions to hack into his myspace, email, and or even just poke the eyes out of all our old wedding pictures, I have not. I have known (in the last standing sane part of my brain) that it might not be in my best interest to do so. It is better to pretend that he no longer exists.
But alas, as things would happen, I knew that there was a certain event that I was certain he would be at. I prepared mentally, rehearsing the I am cool, clever, and highly out of your league now gloat, along with the, we know I was better looking anyways tilt of the head. I walked into the room I thought he would be in, and thought happy thoughts such as, "He is more unhappy than you," and the ever popular "At least I still have my age," to perk myself up and remind myself that though he may never have really loved me, I still have better hair.

Wonder of all wonders though, he wasn't there. Good Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you. I still have those damn ten pounds I want to shed before I see him again. He might get all of our friends, but be damned he won't get those ten pounds!
So hanging out with a mutual friend of ours that can still be a mutual friend...mostly because he knows the whole story and of course agrees with me...I find myself circling back around to thoughts of the dreaded ex and why he didn't show up to a very important event that mostly everybody he knew was at. Don't ask I tell myself You will so regret it! But really I have to know. No, no I don't. Yes, um yes I do. Was it because of me? Was it because of my friends that he wasn't there? Or was it because a hideous boil had broken out on his face and he knew if he went he would scare little children...? Ha! I laugh in my head at the image that creates. I don't think God really answers those prayers, but still, I pray.

"So why didn't he come?" DAMN!!!! It just slipped out! Even as I am kicking myself thinking I should not be listening to the answer... wait, what is this, he didn't come because he went where? That doesn't make sense, that was our spot and our weekend to go to that spot, he wouldn't go there alone, and all of his friends are up here for the event, and I don't think he would skip this event to go with his mother, wait....holy crap....it couldn't be....he wouldn't be....DON'T ASK!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON'T ASK!!! At this point I think I audibly heard a siren going off in my head along with ared flag waving in my face not to ask the next questions on the tip of my tounge. No, I won't ask, I won't give him the satisfaction. "Was he with another woman?" DAMN, DAMN, DAMN! That's it, it's true, I have verbal terezt!
The sledgehammer fell somewhere between my stomach and heart. Did I really pick yesterday to quit smoking? Wow. Here I have been, trying to think and process through, pray and really (if not bitterly) feel through all of this, and my thirty-three year old construction-working-I-live-with-my-mother-and-drive-a-car-my-daddy-paid-for ex is already dating another woman? Oh Lord, end times, I am ready for the rapture. Well, at least he didn't see her, or else I would have asked and found out what she really looks like. I like the image of a forty year old fat woman who uses Rogain better.

Okay new plan:1. Lose twenty pounds instead of ten
2. Find cute, single, doctor and flirt with him outrageously
3. Find inner peace that takes the form of perfect skin and ass you could bounce a quater off of
4. Find way to get close enough to show all of these things to ex without ever having to talk to him (the verbal terezt might sieze again and blow cover)

As I sat and pondered my new list of things to do, a peace suddenly comes over me. I may be alone now, struggling to figure out what it means to be single in a big bad world, and it might seem very unjust that it is the way it is right now, and he may have already forgotten me, and that is okay. It won't be that way forever. Someday I will find someone better that will help me forget about the pain he caused, and someday I will be with someone that knows my value, and we will be happy. But alas, as for my ex, he may have a new girlfriend after only four months of divorce, but let's be honest, I always have, and always will, dance better than he does.