Those Who Don't

I'm learning to cope with those who don't.  Don't smile.  Don't look at me.  Don't write me back.  Don't initiate contact anymore.  Don't follow through.  Don't want to stay.  And it's a process.
For instance, on facebook, there is someone that I'm friends with and have known for many years.  She is really kind.  Not judgmental.  Loving.  But she doesn't talk to me anymore.  She doesn't write back.  She doesn't answer.  It hurts.  And yet, it's just how it is.  I can't fix it.  I haven't talked with her about stuff.  My ex may have.  No idea...but, realistically, he probably has.  Still....nothing to do but to go through the ouchiness.
To feel shunned.  Pushed aside.  Labeled.  Deemed.  Scarlet letter. Marked.  Fallen.
And to learn that it's ok.
It really is.
It's ok to walk where others don't understand.
It's ok to be different.
It's ok to know what I need.  What I hope for.  For feeling relieved to simply breathe.
But I fall into guilt.
I wonder what awful thing I have done.
How could I be so much less than they?  I started out to serve the Lord.  To love Him.  Why am I such a failure?  My heart screams.  My soul rips apart.
And then I breathe.  And breathe again.  And spend time being thankful for breath.  And thinking.  And loving.  And...I remember how it used to be.  And I know that it's ok.  I'm ok.  Even if.  Even when there are those who don't.  And won't.  Ever.
blessings.

not enough

i really got screwed up in my marriage.  i never remember worrying about the choices i was making about what to get done and what not to do ever before.  now, it's tangible.  i struggle.  i worked hard this weekend.  yet, all i can seem to see is what i didn't do.
makes me sad.  how he pushed so much that i completely lost confidence.  and that loss is hard to regain.  i think that i'm fine.  i act like i'm fine.  i often feel fine.  but there is this residual panic that overtakes me when i don't even expect it.  like tonight.  "what didn't i do?  what should i have done instead of the yard?  why did i half paint the picnic table?  why do i waste time?  why? why am i me?"  because being me was something to be changed.  to be sorry for.  he always made me feel like he had to be so patient with my deficiencies.  but he wasn't.
there are so many things that i am not.  i see them.  but what i have trouble with is seeing the value in what i am.  i'm working on it again.  that is exactly why i was painting the picnic table.  it was fun.  it was....satisfying.  even if i did run out of paint. no big deal.  it's a picnic table.  but it saddens me to have this sense of inadequacy.  i do like who i am.  and i feel guilty for that. because of a man. a man that was supposed to love and support.  that didn't turn out so well.  and yet...he keeps acting so charming and innoceent and like a victim.  jackass.

permission

i find burning a field a stress reliever.  I love knowing that it cleans up for new growth.  i don't have a real field to burn anymore, so my garden has to suffice.  and it has plenty of dead undergrowth to qualify.  i love the smell of the smoke.  i know...weird.  i love the heat and the way fire burns.  it takes skill.  it's not as easy to start a fire as people think.  but i hadn't burned in awhile.

on my birthday, i was given a wrapped box.  it was a box of 300 matches.  i've used them all this week.  i've burned sunflower stocks.  hollyhock stocks.  fallen tree branches.  leaves.  i've picked up around the yard and burned the sticks that littered the ground after winter.  and i love it.  i breathe.  i relax.  i pray.  i think.  my mind works much like a flame....always looking for a way through.  that is why my marriage was so hard on me.  i never could find one.  and finally, it was snuffed out.  

i have a lot to do in the next few weeks.  a lot....and so, i was feeling guilty about being outside burning and enjoying the day.  it was my second time this week.  i kept thinking that i should be inside cleaning.  getting ready.  doing what i'm supposed to do.  

and then i realized...the yard needs cleaned up.  i am doing something that i really want to do that isn't hurting anyone AND is accomplishing something good.  i need to cut myself some slack.  i am so used to doing what he thought i should.  it plays in my head.  it feels heavy.  weighty.  like i can't shake a shadow.  

but today, for just a little while, i let go of it and reveled in the right now and what i was doing....burning to make room for new growth.  cleaning up.  twas nice.  even if it was for just a little while.

now i need a bath.  i am filthy and tired.  i worked hard.  i still have a messy house.  but i did a good thing.  

i learned to let go of his hold on me...just a little bit more.  

he really hurt me.  he doesn't even care.  

jerk.

but this wonderful thing was part of today too.  it brought tears to my eyes.  remember, the matches were a gift.  and i was so touched today as i thought of how blessed i am to be known.  matches.  who would give matches for a birthday?  hahahhaa.  a person who knows not only what i like, but what i need, who i am, how i process, how i need that quiet time.  what an indescribable gift.  to give me permission to do and be what i need.  wow.  seriously, i was married for over twenty years and he never once had that insight.  not once.  and got mad when i would try to ask him to try to know me.  too much trouble.  sad.  and yet, i have friends.  and they not only love me.  they choose to know me.  for who i am.  and give me matches when i need them most.
i am blessed.

f****ing a**hole

You know, I used to swear.  When I was at the end of high school and beginning college.  Not a lot.  Just sometimes.  A shit or a damn now and then.  Expletive.  I was on the leadership team of the Baptist Student Union.  We were all going on a weekend retreat.  Headed from Gunnison over to Colorado Springs.  I had my bag, pillow and a handy dandy carrying case for all of my cassettes of christian music.  I turned to lock my dorm room...or check it at least.  As I turned back around to rush down the hallway...running late....I lost hold of the handy dandy case with the push button latch...which hit the floor at just the right angle to pop the latch and scatter the forty cassettes everywhere.  I emphatically said, "shit!" just as my neighbor that I had been inviting to BSU came out her door.  I was mortified.  I had cussed.  I picked up my christian tapes and stuffed them back in the box with a red face.  I didn't make eye contact with the girl.  Heck, I don't think I even talked to her ever again.  I was embarrassed.  I was ashamed.  I determined not to cuss anymore.  To do better.  But.  I left that girl.
I should have said, "don't you hate when that happens?"  Or, "Oops, sorry, sometimes I lose control."  Or....or anything.  But instead....I failed to just be real.
Later on in life, I got married.  Had kids.  I didn't cuss anymore.  I held life together.  I pulled it all in.  I held my marriage together.  I prayed.  I asked to grow and become the woman that God wanted me to be.  To serve.  To give. To put others above myself.
For over twenty years.  But, the one person that could push me to "near" cussing...or words comparable to cussing was my ex.  I didn't really cuss.  Used words that were similar.  Held the others in my head.  Mostly.  Until the end.  Then they started to come out a bit.  I didn't care what he thought of me.  I didn't respect who he was.  How he treated me.  How he treated my kids...our kids....his very own kids.  But still, it was not the norm.
But, now, honestly, when I think of him, I have to stop and think, "that's because he's an ass."  It keeps me from feeling so crazy and trying to wonder why.  Trying to figure out why he behaves how he does.  Jackass.  That's in my thoughts often.  And I wonder what it means as far as the commandments.  Jesus said if I call a man a fool, I've committed murder.  Sigh.  Well, I also used to wish my ex would die.  Be gone.  I'm guilty.  Sinful.  I am learning to forgive.  I'm also learning not to be false.  The truth is that cussing releases emotion.  I have been known to shout a few in my car.  Letting go of feelings.  Feelings too deep and painful for regular, polite words.  That's the thing.  It's not the words.  It's who I am becoming.  And who I am becoming is ok with God.  Real.  Knowing that He is my grace.  My mercy.  My only hope.  I can't be enough.  I can only be what I am and give it all to Him.  And let Him change me, grow me, lead me, teach me....in His time.  Without any games.  Without any pretense.
Letting go.  Releasing.  Not impressing.  Just being.  It's a novel thing for me.  Well, at least since those married years.  Years of being repressed.  Held back.  Pushed down.  Yes, I had decided that cussing  was bad.  And, it's not that pretty.  But my marriage was repressive in ways way beyond language.  And in my language, my very soul cries out to be freed from the tyranny, the unkindness, the constantly having to make everything ok, the having to be good to be loved, the constant earning of affection.
And I'm not the only one.  Actually, mine is mild.  One lovely christian woman told me that at the very end she began using double fisted middle fingers at her ex.  Another one, who was always the "no cuss miss", screamed "f***ing a**hole out a car window up in the mountains after having to meet with her ex.
Frankly, I don't overpepper my language with cursing.  However, I am learning that I do not have to button it all down either.  It is good to have a happy and peaceful heart.  But when it's not, faking it doesn't make it so.  It also doesn't make me more saintly. ;)  But, what about, be angry yet sin not?  I struggle with that.  What about leaving room for God to heap burning coals? hahhahahaha.....love the picture that just ran through my mind....until I saw what I deserve as well.  The thing is that cussing just helps to release the ick.  It gives me a sense that I am allowed to not be perfect. And regarding that part about Jesus saying that calling a man a fool is committing murder?  I know what that was about.....it was about getting people to realize that we are ALL murderers and adulterers and thieves....it was about bringing us to a place of knowing that HE is our only hope.
I'm thinking that eventually I'll settle in and curse less.  But I don't feel a sense of urgency.  I know that God loves me right where I am.  And.....He gets the anguish.  He hears more than just my words, He hears my heart.  My soul.  My longing.
And that is a relief.  Because there were no words.  No actions.  No methods.  None.  That caused my ex to hear me.  To see me.  To know me.  He had no interest.  Only in him.  And it's just that way.  But I still tend to fall back into taking care of him.  In worrying how he'll feel.  Into putting him above me.  With no wise reason to do so.  Cussing...saying, "oh yeah, he's a jackass and that's why he does that" helps to let me box all of that not understanding why he treats others so senselessly into a place where my mind isn't constantly grappling to define what it was that was and is wrong.
Keep it real.
blessings.

Timeline

My timeline doesn't always work out.  Last year, I had thought that by this time this year, I would be able to entertain my ex and his family at my son's graduation.  As it turns out, I'm not as ready emotionally as I had hoped.  But, it does explain the bit of a spring I see in his step.  His more brazen overtures to be in my space.  He knows what I was shooting for.  He knows that I will keep my word.  He knows that he will be in my house.  He knows.
And that's ok.  I have to face it eventually.  Weddings coming up.  Grandkids birthdays.  College Graduations.  But frankly, with being at a new job and handling things with the kids....with a renewed kindness and time taking and allowing them to work through things......I'm simply overwhelmed.  My garden needs cleaned out.  My son had said he would do it last fall...but, he kinda did it.  The parts he deemed as fun. :) My floors and my cupboards.  Everywhere I look it's just blech.  And it's like I can barely get mobilized.  I'd hire someone, but I'd rather go on vacation.  I know that my ex and his family will judge me based on the house.  I have to decide that it doesn't matter.  I have to live and do what makes my son happy for his day.  It's not a competition to please the ex and his family..  But it hurts.  A lot.  Takes my breath away.  I want to show off how well we have done.  But it doesn't show in this way.  It shows in smiles.  And talking about hard stuff.  It shows in my kids having a voice and a choice.
But I want my house to be fabulous.  Deep inside, I wish I had it in me to get it done to rub his face in it.  I know....bad attitude.  But he held over me so long how I wasn't responsible and how I didn't do things well. Not to mention his mother's views....aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh.
But my son just wants chicken nuggets. Homemade.  And games.  And yes, a clean house.  So....I think that I should focus on those things.  And cake.
I want to do it well.  I want to look good.  But life isn't about looking good for someone I don't even respect.  It's about living.  About being me.  About standing up and saying, "to hell with your demands, expectations, and disappointment!  I am living and living well.  I am happy.  The kids are happy.  Life is not about these shallow things."
butistillwanttoshowoffandshowhimhowmuchidon'tneedhim.  dammit.

I am brave.

I am brave.  Kind.  Compassionate.  I am growing.  I managed to do stuff with my son this weekend that didn't mean that I yelled back.  I'm learning calmness and peace.  I am learning to hear their frustration.  Even when it hurts.  I am learning to give them time.  To give guidance but also to wait.  I am learning to honor the journey of my children as their own unique journey that will look like nobody else's.  I am learning to let God guide them.  Personally.  To step back a little.  Not in love or support, but in the rest.  In letting them have choices and control.
Yet demanding respect.  To be a mom.  Not just a buddy.
And...I am brave because I am learning to tell people who push me...."no".  I can tell them that I can't do more or can't do it.
And I am brave because I can back out of things.  Like that class I knew was too much....I have decided to bail on it.  Too much other.
And I'm brave because I stayed at church instead of bolting when my ex sat in my row.
And I am brave because I seek joy.  And peace.  And happiness. And forgiveness.  And because I refuse to revel in bitterness.
I am brave because I don't just choose the easy way.
Because I pray and am carried.  I am fearless.  I stand up when I want to cower.  I stood in front of the church today waiting for my kids inside...and I STOOD...though I'd had a rough morning and would have felt better curled in a ball crying.  Really.
I am brave to reach out though none say "things would be better if you were here."  Or similar things.....
And I am brave because I am willing to sign for my son and his friends in their new living adventure.  I show trust.
I am brave.  Yes I am.
blessings.

Rough Day

I guess that not being asked to do things is something I'm going to have to get used to. I heard back about the classes I was interested in.  I wrote again to explain the conclusion that I've drawn...that I need more time in order to be able to function at church events.  But later in the day, it struck me how I'm not asked nor pursued.  It's more like a relief to have me not be around.  I make things...complicated...is how it feels.
I keep thinking that I will get over having my feelings hurt.  But, not yet.  For now, it aches.  That's not the final story.  That's not heaven.  But it is the truth for just now.
There are leaders.  There are "popular", and acceptable people....then there are people like me.  I'm not alone.  Many are on the outside.
There are seasons in life.  I think it's made more difficult because my ex is playing such a victim and being extra included.  And he's super involved.
Letting go.  Growing.  Learning.  Fearless to be in the Desert Places.
I never walk alone.
blessings.

By a Thread

Hanging on.  Or not.  Being held is more like it.  Lucky the thread is strong.  Holding me tight.  Though I feel like I'm rapelling over the open spaces.  Free fall.
Not a great afternoon.  Tough with kids.  House is a wreck.  Can't get my senior to send out announcements....or even address....or even ask if he wants help.  Sat down and showed him how.  Told him to ask if it was overwhelming.  Told him to let me know if he'd like my help.  There they sit.  Where they were.
Youngest son told me how lousy I am at being a mom.  That I expect everything of him.  That he does more than anyone.  I didn't yell.  I am thankful.  The painful part was how he sounded like his dad.  It hurt.  Quite a bit.
I told him that I understood what he was saying.  Understood that he was asking for respect because that is the place he is coming to in life.  I agreed to not ask anything of him.  For a month.  We'll see after that.  Guess I'll be hiring out for graduation.  I am totally overwhelmed.
Wish my kids would go away for a weekend.  I need to cry.  Work around my house.  REst.  Not be a responsible one.
WEary.

Reaching Out

You know how it is to reach out?  How getting out of your comfort zone is hard?  Me too.  I reached out this last week to a woman who is teaching some classes.  I felt that maybe I should take one of them but wasn't sure when they were happening.  I emailed to ask because when they had been announced, we were told that if we were interested, we should email that we were interested and why.  But first, I needed to know when they were going to be...as I work.  I got an email back about day on one of the classes, but not what months or time of year.  So, I asked for clarification and didn't hear back.  It's too bad really.  It's hard for me to reach out.  Especially at church things.  And too bad because it was one of the first times in a long time that it seemed like something I was supposed to be doing.
There are limited slots.  I don't know that my reasons would have been good enough anyway...for wanting to take the classes.  But it was still hard.  I guess I see some women are priorities.  Some women are the front people.  The go tos.  Some women have what it takes to make a difference and be included in that world of church.  Once upon a time, if I'd stayed married, if they had thought that things were ok, maybe I would have been one of those women.
Not viewed as the prayer warrior that I can be.  Not seen as a teacher.  Not heard.  No voice.  Not at church.
That's really too bad.  Some things just are.  And learning what they are is the battle.  How I respond, what I choose, what I become, how I believe, who I serve.....those things are still up to me.
Leading is best done patiently and by example.  For now I must just let it be.
Doesn't mean it isn't painful.  But, actually, doing the classes would have taken a lot of courage.  My ex spends an awful lot of time and energy making brownie points.  I'm not interested in the competition.  I just want to be me.  Pure and simple.  No battle.  No competition about who is right or who is better.  It's important to him to be popular at church.
I guess I should just walk away from really being a part and just make it through this time with my kids there.  It'll be ok.  God has brought others along in life.
I think that this would be easier if I hadn't had this false sense of hope.  Hope that there was a place  Hope that someone understood.  Hope that I was worth seeking out.  Pretty pathetic that I was so easily thrilled.
Need to get on with real living and not be so interested in being important to people that I admire but will never be friends with.  It's time to just live my life.  I love my life.  It is good and full.  I don't need a pedestal nor a cheerleader from leadership.  It is enough to have the support of those who know.  Who know me.  Who love.  Consistently.  More than enough.
Sometimes when we reach out, others don't reach back.  That doesn't mean that we aren't valuable.....just not valuable to them right at the time.  That's ok.  Our value changes not
blessings.

Men Behaving Badly

You know, I have heard the "women's movement," a lack of submission, hormones, women working, and all kinds of things attributed to the decline of marriage.  And I have SEEN the decline in successful marriages.  But I'm not a feminist.  I didn't put a career in front of my family.  I wasn't overly hormonal nor dramatic.  I am not a doormat, but feel like I had a healthy idea of what submission should look like.  Many of the women of about my age are very similar.  Stayed home to take care of kids.  Raised great kids.  But lived lives that were miserable.  They didn't just feel taken forgranted...they felt abused.  I felt abused.  I was not just unhappy, I was destroyed.
I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out why.  What is the root?  Why are marriages so troubled?  Yes, women have a lot of blame.  But without a doubt, I am seeing a lack of leadership from men.  A lack of compassion.  I have found a lot of similar stories....I gave and gave and gave...and he took.  I put him through school.  I gave up a good job.  I gave up my boundaries.  And men are not stepping up.  They are not being trustworthy.  Pornography is rampant.  Affairs.  Excuses.  Being too busy to be involved with children.  Helping everyone but their own families.  Touching everyone but their wives.  Or treating their wives with kindness only in order to get sex.  Using.  Holding being the bread winner over their wife.
And you probably think that I'm going to blame those "bad" men.  Right?
Wrong.
I have come to realize in my time of thinking and praying that men ARE behaving badly for far too long.  But, at least in my case, I have to take responsibility for allowing it.  For not standing against evil.  Even in my own home.  For not confronting and speaking truth....and then DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT.  Somehow, I bought some false story that God wants me to support my man no matter what.  That I should submit to whatever he says or I'm in the wrong.  That I should make it work.  PERIOD.  No getting out.  That mindset.  That worldly/christian view...it harmed me.  A lot.
God didn't say those things.  HE HATES DIVORCE.  Can't tell you how much I've heard that.  Especially now that I have a divorce under my belt.  But God doesn't hate the paper.  God hates the divorcing of ourselves from one another.  He desires relationship.  He longs for marriages to be an exemplar to the world of His relationship to people.  He doesn't desire false living.  Nor pretending.  He doesn't desire for people to live together with hate in their hearts but not "divorced".  They ARE divorced when they live that way.  Hear me clearly.....if calling a man in a fool in my heart is like committing murder....if attitude is THAT important....then we as the church have really messed up.
It's not about keeping people together on paper.  It's not about making sure they make it 60 or 70 years.  It is about real, true relationship.  It is about backing up people...read women....when they say that something is really wrong....and giving them recourse so that perhaps they can actually make things turn around.  Because frankly, saying the words, "just make it work," doesn't help a whole lot.  Men get lazy about caring. Loving.  They have that verse...that submit verse.  They can throw it out.  Guilt her.  I have to say it....I RARELY hear anyone tell a man that he should be loving his wife as Christ loves the church.  I see more people put the responsibility of a successful marriage on a woman and leave the men to do as they choose.
The problem is...it's not good for the men either.  They are losing their way.  They are falling prisoner to selfishness and pride.  They are failing to love their families.  And they fall further and further into the pit as women are prohibited by some ideal that they have to stay and allow it.
I think that saying the "D" word...divorce...should be less of a crime.  It should be openly discussed that there are some things that are not ok.   And that filing paperwork isn't the thing that is the worst thing that ever happens.  The worst thing is the complete breaking of trust, of pride overcoming love, of every little thing that tears away at relationship.  The crime is not the paperwork.  The death comes first.  Then the paperwork.  Before death, there are lots of things that can be done.  Lots of treatments.  But it feels like nobody really cares until the paperwork.
Yes, men are behaving badly.  But I think that a lot of it has to do with women being too beaten down and not standing up and saying, "no".  I find that I knew what was wrong.  I tried to say what was wrong.  I got mad.  I got hurt.  I kept being more beaten down.  But instead of that...I should have claimed my rights, my responsibilities and my power as a daughter of the King.  I should have stood up and said you will not destroy this family.  I should have told everyone.  I should have....
but I felt I couldn't.
I felt limited.
I felt alone.
I felt......
but my feelings are not truth.
And I take responsibility.  He was a jerk.  Really.  It was bad.  But instead of a slow, painful death, I should have pushed him.  We may have parted sooner.  We may never have parted.  But I wouldn't have lost hope.  And he would have had less time to become a complacent, taker who functioned meanly.
i must own it.  my part of it.  it's mine to give to god.  who loves me.  even now.
blessings.

Working Through the Hard Stuff

Wow, this was a rough weekend so far.  But, today I went "off grid"...no phone, no computer social network for more than 12 hours. ;)  Last night was hard, but today, moreso.
My ex showed up at my ladies event.  He was there to be part of the men's ministry team. He is EVERYWHERE.  But he has had no change.  He wants to win me.  He is trying to show that he can.  I'm not something to win, I am a being to nurture.  And in 20 years, I wasn't able to help him to see that.
I have a lot of stuff to work through, but bottom line, I'm glad to be doing it one on one with God.  I'm glad that I don't have to carry my ex anymore.
I look at how he grew in our marriage....singing, being a soloist, going on a missions trip, learning to read and study his bible, growing in mechanical confidence, and many other things.  I see how I helped to draw him into learning and trying things.  How I believed in him.  And I look at how the opposite happened to me.  There is something really bad about that.
He went to the church today.  He behaves around everyone as if it shouldn't be strange for us to be together.  He stayed right in an area where he knew I had to go to pack up stuff from last night.  Then he made another trip up that way to deliver a chair...though there were 6 or more guys.  He then, after working, didn't leave by the door at that end of the building, but walked back where I was and even asked to help.  Awkward.  Weird.  Painful.  Inserting himself.  Pushing.  Not a kindness.  Just creepy.  Knowing that I've told and written him that I need him to step back.  Step away.  But he doesn't.
How it still causes me so much pain trouble, I don't know.  It literally made my body weak.  Tired.  Drained.  Emptied.  He has a way of taking away.  Depleting.  It's really pretty sad.  But I am learning.  Growing.  God is faithful.  He has brought peace.  He gave me a friend  to ease the burden...and take away my phone. ;)
Now, for sleep.  And wishing that people could understand that not all stories end the same.
blessings.

Hi Dear

I went to a church event tonight.  My ex sang a couple of the songs in a variety show.  But, I wanted to go because a friend was the "star" of the show, a young lady I adore was playing piano, and my sweet friend was showing her art wares.  So, I fearlessly went.  Ha.  With some fear and trembling.  But, actually, I was doing pretty well.  Until intermission.  When my ex and I nearly bumped into one another and he said, "hi dear."  I had smiled...albeit not very genuinely....mostly out of the simple desire to smooth things over and get away.  But, I was appalled.  When we were still married, I had asked him to quit calling me dear.  He used it.  He wouldn't call me by my name.  It didn't mean dear.  It was hurtful.  I went on to the bathroom.  I went back into the auditorium.  He got up to sing.  A song about friends.  When you're down and troubled....and you need a helping hand....blah blah blah.  I literally wanted to shout, "you are a lousy friend!"  You are fake and I can't believe you are up there singing that.  With your wedding ring on to boot!  AAAArrrrrggggghhhhh.  I was stressed.  My heart pounded.  Palpitated.  I felt cold.  I walked out.  I went to the car.  I pulled myself together to go back inside, but not back into the auditorium.  I waited.  I listened. Then, it was over.  But, not really.  Because the mingling was still going on.  The looking at the art.  And he planted himself in the middle of it all.  blech.
I went out to dinner with friends and kids.  I bought wine.  I am drinking alone. Hahahahhaa.  Probably not considered fine form.  But, it feels pretty damn good right now.  Not drunk.  Not even close.  Not buzzed.  Just simply relaxing and thinking that he is quite a jerk.
How dare he.  No clue.  But he certainly has no caring towards me.  Only for him.  For how he looks.  I am amazed by his lack of empathy.  For me.  For his kids.
But now, he fakes it with his daughter.  Affection as she sings in choir.  Acting like dad of the year.  Nobody knows that he rarely sees her.  Crazy  Nor that I begged him forever to be affectionate with her.  But he would not.  Now though....it's the big show.  Wow.
So tired of the falseness.  I just wish he'd quit pretending that he's still married.  Really.
Ok, gonna watch a show and try to veg out.  Try.  I'm feeling wounded.  Again.
blessings.

Birthday..and one year into being apart

Relief.  Blessed peace.  Of heart.  Of mind.  Of soul.  Real.  Deep.  Abiding.  A sense of feeling complete.  I didn't have that married.  And birthdays were depressing.  Totally.  Horribly.  He had a way of being so about him in everything.  Even my birthday.
Today I was given the best gifts.  All of them have to do with time.  Time at home because a snow day was called.  Truly...a miracle.  A gift from God.  Time with a friend.  Who had other things to do.  Who really likes to stay home.  But went out to soup and salad with me and to hang out at the bookstore.  Most people would view that a waste of time.  She made it feel really nice.  Time with my kids...who decided to take me out to dinner.  They were even going to pay.  I told them to save their dollars. ;)  They picked a nice restaurant.  I ate soup again. They tried different things.  We ordered two desserts to share.  It was fun.  Relaxed.  No agenda.  No one center of attention.  Everyone just talking and sharing.  Pleasant.
So much better than a year ago.  A year ago, their dad had left two days before.  It was horrible to try to be normal because we didn't know what normal was yet.  Now we do.  Now we know that we are each just who we are.  That we need time still to heal.  That we love each other.  That we are making it.  That we can be real.
It has been a growing, good year.  I have learned to be fearless on so many fronts.  It's amazing.  I feel blessed.  I am deeply thankful.  I am provided for.
God keeps on giving to me.  Love that.  I want to show His heart to others by being giving.  And by accepting too.
A good day.  To celebrate the difference a year makes.  And to realize how long it takes to really get over so much pain.  But that it is possible.
blessings.

No Heart's Desire is too Small

I really wanted my birthday off this year.  I mean, really.  And strangely, over the weekend, they started talking about having a huge blizzard.  In April.  Really.  And I prayed.  For real.  I just laid it out there for God.  I think that I just needed to be spoiled a little by my Daddy.  I needed to know He heard me...sees me...gets me.  I wouldn't have been angry with Him if He didn't send a snow day to my school district, but I longed for it.  Hoped for it.  Prayed for it.  And...He gave it to me.  Most would say it's a fluke.  A coincidence.  I know better.  I know that He saw me.  Held me close and said, "happy birthday, sweetie."  Brings tears to my eyes.  What a blessing.  Relationship.  Not religion.  He loves me.  Even me.  Just how I am.  Just where I am.  Stunning.  Unbelievable.  Yet...undoubtedly true.
blessings.

troubled

i'm afraid that i don't really fit in with others very well.  i have trouble making fun or being irritated about others.  i can talk goofy.  talk silly.  talk about sex.  talk about feelings.  talk about how i feel about my ex...to a degree.  i can talk about my story.  talk about their stories.  i can listen.  i can commiserate.  but i just am not the woman that does well when the subject of other people that aren't part of my story come up.  i cringe.  i can talk about our kids.  because we love them.  i can talk about parents/grandparents/inlaws.  i don't have a deep seated belief that it's gossip to speak about others.  i feel like there's something about what is in the heart.  whether it's malicious.  whether it's from a place of love.  and i know that i'm guilty.  and i know that i often fail.  but i so easily feel uncomfortable when people talk about someone or pass judgement.  perhaps it is because i have been the subject of such.  i hurt when people who are different are put on the conversation agenda.  i am weird.  i am different.  i wonder what people say about me when i'm not around.  awkward thought.
i want to be kind of heart.  and of word.  and tell the truth in my own story.  balance.  but i don't want to drag others or their habits into conversation just to have something to talk about.  makes me sad.
night.  have school tomorrow!!!

Cleaning

Cleaning and claiming my space in my home helps me.  I have spots that I still struggle.  I am overwhelmed by emotions and have to figure out what is kicking my butt and why.  I have trouble in some places in my yard.  The remnants of hard times with my ex.  Sometimes I have trouble putting an event to it.  But, I am working through things.  Working on it.  Staying with it.  Because I can heal.  But only if I face stuff and don't leave it to fester. ;)
I spent a lot of time cleaning yesterday.  Mostly in my own room.   Still lots to do around the house, but getting up and sticking to it helps me emotionally.  I tend to avoid those things and places that remind me of him.  That give me a creepy crawly feeling.  I am trying to change that by facing it bravely and moving into it rather than away from it.  Not easy.  But possible.
Happy Sunday.
blessings.

supporting a perpetrator

supporting a perpetrator comes in many different forms.  silence.  inviting.  listening.  agreeing.  commiserating.  siding with.  not taking a stand.  not standing for those who are harmed.  wounded.  it comes in the form of jumping in and giving an excuse or reason why the person has a right or reason to behave as they do.  it comes by trying to play both sides.
my ex minimalized for all of our marriage his behaviors.  then, he would have crying sessions and act worthless so that i would build him up.  there was never any time that i felt secure.  that it seemed like things were stable.  any time that i felt happy, he was not content.  and what it took to try to make him happy took all of my energy.  life was not pleasant.  i knew it that first week.  he is not a nicer feller.  he LOOKS nice.  he acts nice to others.
well, time to quit whining.  time to get back to cleaning and organizing.

shouldn't have to beg.

i desperately pled with my ex to see who i was.  to care for who i was.  hmmm. wish i had read this.  begging diminished my self worth.  it made me feel as if god didn't care for me either.  that i wasn't good enough.
today i told my foster mom that i'm not married.  she had sent a card.  i called.  was a little weird, but i did it.
blessings.

Who you are with

Have you ever noticed that some really nice people are really negative?  I am becoming more aware of this.  I am seeing that there are people who always seem to be looking for what is wrong or bad...even though they are also a ton of fun.  Opening my eyes.  More and more.  I do not want to be that way.  I do want to be fun.  But I don't want to have that cutting edge.  The heart and mind that always look to complain or be negative.  I just want to.....not just be positive in the humanistic sort of way...I want to be grateful.  I want to have kindness and grace to seep out.  Not negativity.  I want to.  I pray to.  I will keep vigilant.
blessings.

i get this

my ex always treated me as if he was tolerating me.  not treasuring.  not cherishing.  not blissful.  not happy.

                                                                              simply tolerating.

it wasn't enough.  it just wasn't.  i tried to let it be.  told myself not to be so prideful.  told myself that eventually he would see that i was worth it.  he never saw my value.  he only saw his wonderful commitment of being tolerant.  

sad.

No bull...or maybe a little

 Here we go.  Trying new things.  Only thing was....I COULDN'T get on!  Ha.  I hurt my back awhile back and lifting that leg while the ground around sunk...well, it just wasn't happening.

But that didn't keep me from....laughing.  Really hard.  I was trying. But then....my rescuer came.  In the form of a friend.  See those feet?  Yep, that's a friend on her hands and knees helping me to get on the bull.

 And I took her up on her offer.  Not a hand.  She actually let me step on her to get where I needed to go.  To help me do something new.

 Still trying.  Working on it.  Trying to have some sense of dignity. Ha.  None of that going on.  I just had to take a breath and decide to DO it.  Did I mention that I was terrified?  That I couldn't believe that I was getting on a bull that was going to buck and go round?

Nothing like having every moment photographed.  In all my glory.  Yep, there's my friend.  With me planted firmly on her back.  Holding on to the little bitty rope on the "saddle".  I dragged myself up.  While we all laughed.  I love that laughing is so good for the soul

 Finally on.  And all that I can think is that I do NOT want to fall off.  I do not.  Scary.  So, I concentrated on holding on.  But mostly on balance.  Staying centered.

I didn't look good, but I stayed on all thirty seconds.  

 Yes, it's on easy.  And yes, I'm holding on for dear life.

Nobody else knew that I was celebrating living.  Being alive.  Really alive.  Trying.  Doing.  Risking.  All wrapped up in this little activity.  My kids asked me to do it.  I did it.  

I didn't do it on my own.  My friend jumped in there to help me.  How like life this was.  The risk.  The friend.  The trying.  The being willing.  The having courage.  And then...holding on for dear life for the ride.  Trying.  Knowing that I might fail.  Might fall.  Might be embarrassed.  But, guess what?  I didn't.  I added one more thing to things that I have tried in my life.  And that's awesome.  Love it!
blessings.

always provided for

today i had to make my son's travel reservations for returning home in may from college.  i had done something silly this last week when paying my bills...had forgotten to change from the current date to date due on the house payment.  so, my house payment went through before i was ready for it too.  it's ok. i won't starve.  but, it caught me off guard.  so, i went online to get my son's ticket and it was $125.  one way.  not bad.  but, for grins, i clicked on my air miles.  i had more than enough to bring him home!!!  so his flight cost me $2.50.  that was totally awesome.  like i was saying...i love seeing god provide.  how he meets the needs and goes before to make things work out.  he is my hero.

blessings.

a sliver or a full bar

you know, i was thinking the other day about life.  about provision.  i was thinking how god has provided for me always.  how i love seeing him work things out.  and i realized that sometimes, when i have only a sliver of soap, i am so very thankful to have soap.  and how it always ends up being enough.  with more left over even.  and how when i have a full bar of soap, i love the bulky feel in my hand and enjoy using it.  how it feels like it will last forever.  money is much like that bar of soap is what i realized.  the sliver does the job because god deems it so.  and the bar is meant to be luxuriously enjoyed.  and then...i realized...there are times when i have extra bars and maybe some people have none.  maybe they don't even have a sliver.  and god can take my bars and give to the ones who need and everyone gets clean.  everyone has their needs provided.  not by god making more soap.  by god using the soap that is already there and moving it where it is needed.  or the money.  i am simply a vessel.  god gives or invests in me.  then he can take his investment and spread it around.
i have been having fun giving away that $700 ten dollars...or more...at a time.  got me thinking...maybe i could give away $7000.  i really don't know how because i don't make that much.  yet....i LOVE watching god work.  it blesses me to my deepest soul.  it's not like he runs out of soap.  he owns all of the soap in the whole world.  i'm sure that he can get me a sliver.  or a bar....when i need it.
don't get me wrong.  i don't think it's wrong to save.  don't think it's wrong to prepare.  i just think that i am at a place in life that he is showing me something different.  not to store up.  not to hold on.  to give.  to share.  to let go.  to let him provide the soap.  ;)
blessings.

Proud

I feel proud of myself.  I have done things this week that have been on my mind for a very long time.  Haircut.  Check.  Glasses ordered.  Check.  Divorce papers completed and filed. Check.  Do some fun activity with the kids and DO it.  Check.  And though my house is not tidy.  Though I have much left to do.  I feel proud of me.  For real proud.  A really good feeling.
blessings.

Done

I finished and filed the paperwork for my divorce.  Done.  Weight lifted.  Hugely so.  I am ready to dance around and feeling giddy.  And yet...for others, I still ache.  Because others seem to feel hesitant or as if I am not sure or something.  That's ok.  I just have to do what I need to do.  Prayerfully.  Without malice.  That was important to me.  Yes, I've been mad.  Yes, I get mad.  But, this has nothing to do with that kind of emotion.  It has to do with finishing.  With being truthful to him.  With letting him go.  Making him, if necessary.  Of being true to the life that I'm living.  I could have lived with the other.  With the separation.  But it troubled me because of how he viewed it.  How he portrayed it.  So....I need to be more straight forward.  I need to let him get on with his life.  Maybe he'll date.  But he needs to go and live and not keep falsely thinking that he and I are reuniting.
I am done.  Finally done.  And though it's not what I expected, I am desperately relieved.
blessings.

Working Through Stuff

Sometimes I wonder when I'll be done working through the twenty years of my marriage.  I have residual fears.  Today, I am going to file paperwork to turn my legal separation into a divorce.  I woke up at three struggling.  i didn't know why.  I was unreasonably afraid.  I kept thinking, "I don't want to poke this bear right now."  Then, I let myself off of the hook that I didn't have to do it.  That I could sleep.  That I could do it or not.  I was thinking about waiting because he is going to give me the addresses that he has and I don't for his family.  I was thinking about waiting because I know that he'll tell his family and it could make graduation even harder on my son.  I was thinking about waiting because I was afraid of how he would respond.  I was afraid of what it would do to graduation.  Of how it could hurt my son.
Then, I went to sleep thinking, "I don't have to do it right now."  Waking up, the thoughts were still with me.  The wonderings.  The fears.  And then...revelation.  I certainly never want to be married to someone that causes me this much fear and anxiety.  It was so much a part of my life in my marriage to make things right, to keep them smooth, to choose the right moment....that I hadn't even realized what I was doing!  I'm not married to him and I was STILL trying to behave in a way that didn't make him angry.  That didn't make him make choices that will hurt his son.  I was STILL covering for him.  Without even a thought.  And I thought about how it would hurt him to just get the paperwork in the mail.  Because yes, I still care about hurting people.  Yes, even him.  I decided that when I do it, I would email first.  Let him know that it was coming.  Sweet peace.  Owning what I'm doing without apologizing for it.  Then, I thought, "why not now?"  So I emailed and told him.  Now it's not hanging over my head.
There's still stuff to work through.  But what I realized today is that I don't have to work through HIS stuff.  Just mine.
blessings.

Did it

Today I filled out the paperwork to convert my legal separation to a divorce.  It took at least four tries.  It was stressful.  Have to fill in lots of blanks on three separate papers.  Not easy.  Not how I want to spend my day.  And I almost gave up.  Then, I went and bought more wine at the liquor store where I JUST began a "rewards" account last week.  I drank my three glasses of wine in five days.  Now, I'm having another.  Just so that you know that I'm not a drunk.  I'm on break and rather needing the relaxation wine at night.  My ex really did drive me to drink...when we were married...for a time there at the end.  But now, it's just a way to wind down sometimes.  Every few months.  Anyway, I digress. ;)  I filled out the paperwork this evening after stopping at the liquor store to get my wine and giving my name for the rewards and hearing them say is that "exes name and Grace"?  I nearly freaked.  I said, "no, just Grace."  She said, "ok".  Then I asked her why there were both.  Apparently he set up an account too...at some point.  It was creepy that my name was on it too.
He also got mail from Unbound...a ministry for men addicted to pornography.  Nice.  I trashed it.  It's here in our town.  Great....
Anyway, it has been a tough one.  But a good one too.  I'll get a good night's sleep and it will be much better!
So glad to be able to say that the paperwork is done.  Whew.  Better than having to think about doing it.  Way better.  Relief.  I hate the paperwork.
blessings.

ex

24 hours ago i emailed a please send addresses for graduation invites text.  i've heard nothing.  not an email.  not even a text saying ok.  perhaps he doesn't want to be helpful to the son that is being a pain in his butt.  but who will that hurt?  guess i'll just have to figure it out.....

Sometimes I Wonder

Sometimes I wonder how it feels to not be weird.  Or odd.  Sometimes I wonder whether others understand that who I am isn't just someone I've cultivated...but it is part of me.  I am not the outgoing one.  I am not up for anything and everything.  But I find comfort with those I am at home with.  And they aren't dozens.  I'm definitely an introvert.  I suffer with it sometimes.  With the fact that most people have lots of people.  And are comfortable that way.  And I?  Well, I am different.  I relax in the familiar.  Not things to do.  I like doing things.  I like going out.  Or being home.  But I am at home with a few.
Sometimes I wonder.  Am I home to others?  Mostly it doesn't feel like it.  I want to be kind.  I want to be a good friend.  But it always seems like the kind of friend people are supposed to be and who I am are at odds.
So...yes, sometimes I wonder if being me is a good thing.
But lately...though it's hard...though I struggle...I have found.....I like me.  Even if nobody else gets me.  Even if I have nobody to wonder with.  Even if it's painful.  I like me.

Being Made New

This is not a photo of me.  This is a photo of where I went last night.  Where I played.  It's a place called Jumpstreet.  How it all began was yesterday morning when my groupon email arrived.  I had been looking for something fun and interactive to do with my kids this week since it is Spring Break.
Well, I bought the tickets.  Asked some friends.  And then...all day....tried to decided if I was going to play or not.  Frankly, I haven't been feeling well.  And this is...well...it's dodgeball and mechanical bull riding and bouncing basketball and yes, huge trampolines for jumping.  And I'm....kinda old.  But, all day I had this sense...that I needed to participate.  That I need to challenge myself.  Even if it's just a little bit.  So I decided that I was going to play.  That I was not going to sit in the snack bar or on the benches.  That I was going to move forward in my life.  That I was going to be brave in this little thing.
For others it's no big deal.  But for me, it's huge.  My heart was pounding as I got my wrist bands.  I like being on the fringe.  I've gotten accustomed to it.  Even with people I love.  But, it's time to actually live again.  To risk.  To try stuff.  So, I got on the bull.  Yes, you read that right.  I was so afraid I would fall off.  That it would hurt.  That everyone was watching didn't help.  Rough times.  I couldn't get on.  Seriously.  So, my friend got on the floor and let me clib on her back. Hahahahhahahaaa.  Snort.  Guffaw.  Man, that was a hoot.  But, I did it.  On the easiest setting.  It was a good thing to do.  To force myself to say yes.
And I jumped in the huge foam pit. Even from the higher dive.  I was not graceful.  I did not do anything fancy.  But I jumped.  Four times.  And I managed to get out.  I want to teach myself that I can always get out.  Eventually.  That I should relax and not fear.  It will happen  I will make it.  Eventually.
There are all kinds of life lessons to have if I actually live.  Participate.  And, the sweet thing is that I get to be WITH my kids.  Not just observing them.  That I can be vulnerable with my friends.  That I can be fearless...while being scared.
I don't have to compete.  I spent so many years with someone who made me feel small and inadequate.  I taught him to ski.  He made it not fun  I taught him to camp.  Same.  Somehow, he took all of the things that I loved away from me.  I love having fun.  Not to compete.  Not to be better.  Not to beat someone down.  Simply for the exuberance that comes from the time together.  From the lessons learned.  He even did the gardening thing at the end of our marriage.  Anything I ever did, he had to do...not to do it together...to be better, to show me up.  He was not an uplifter of me at all.  Surprised I don't have a permanent footprint on my back where he used me to boost himself up.  And I didn't think about it.  I didn't realize until now how very wrong it is.  I tried to be better.  To keep lifting him....what a goofball I was.  No more.
Now I choose the kinds of people to be in my life who will get down and let me get up...knowing that I will do the same for them.  It's not give and take.  It's not about fair.  It's about caring.  It's about relationship,
I am learning to teach my children as we sit, rise and walk along the way.  God can speak in all times and all ways.  They were pretty beaten down spiritually too.  I used to teach them from the Bible.  But he always had to make it about what they weren't doing right.  I hated it.  My job?  To simply point to their Father and let HIM draw them, love them, heal them and reveal Himself to them in His way and time.  I get to pray for them.  Fervently.  Truthfully.  Deeply.  And I get to let go and let Him guide.  He's better at it.  I get to let Him use me in their lives instead of me trying to use Him in their lives.  Much better.  Freedom.  Blessing. Grace.  Peace.  Laughter.  Room to grow.  Room to risk.  Room to make mistakes.  Room to learn.
All of that from going to a play place?  You bet.  Because learning to risk and try and fail and try again and let people help you and pray and trust....they are all life lessons.  And I teach them best when I am taking part in life.
blessings.

leave it be

i have friends.  and then i have a friend.  she has taught me many things.  most of them without even thinking about it.  today i am making fried potatoes.  and it always makes me smile.  i've been making fried potatoes for over 20 years.  and they always stuck and made a mess.  i even started making the oven fried ones instead because of that very reason.  but one day she said, "leave them alone" when i was stirring away.  messing with them.  working to not make them stick. turns out, they just need to sit in the pan and cook and be stirred only a few times.  then they are crispy and delicious inside and out.  what a life lesson.  leave it be. don't micro manage.  don't stir things that don't need stirred.  relax.  rest.  let things happen in their time and as they should.  i've learned a lot from simple little things like that.  she should write a book.
blessings.

Remembered

I was awakened at three a.m.  Keep in mind that it was midnight and past before I went to sleep.  A sound at my window.  Awoke.  Heard it again.  Heart pounding.  But then...I decided. I turned on the light.  Turned it off.  Turned it back on.  Got up.  Went out front and turned on the lights.  Went in the bathroom.  Ok, I didi check the shower.  Couldn't help it.  But then I went back to bed.  I couldn't go back to sleep after the adrenaline kick, so I watched some shows and chilled.  I rested.  And as I let my mind wander, I remembered the things that I tend to put away.
I remembered the fights about whether people could wear their shoes in our house.  Or how much food people should take.  Or whether they should be allowed to take more meat than other things.  I remember how keeping the house warm was a no no.  How he would have to be the center of games.  I especially remember how he would say my name in that disapproving tone.  I seriously heard it last night.  And....I laughed.  Because he doesn't get to choose for me anymore.  Yesterday I had remembered his rules for the Easter egg hunt.  So serious.  Always sure that everyone was going to do something wrong.  And that is it.  He was always looking at all of us like we were wrong.  Bad.  Irritating.  Disappointing.  Always trying to rein me in.  Ha.  After 20 years, I broke free.  The constant pulling must've broken the reins.
I remembered the constant stress feeling.  The heaviness.  The incessantly trying to be better.  The dread.  The always trying to work through my feelings.  The guilt.  The shame.  I remembered how hard it was.
When he sang yesterday, maybe he wanted me to see how a changed man should get to go back...but nobody gets to go back.  We all keep going forward.  The thief on the cross didn't go back...he still died.  I guess that's what he doesn't hear from me.  I know that he can change.  That he might change.  But it can't be to "win" me.  I'm done. Done feeling used.  Done being taken forgranted.  Done with the attitude that is abusive even if it doesn't leave marks.  Done.  Moving forward.
blessings.