Dumping the Baggage

Emotional baggage - we all carry it, and some of us carry significantly more than others. I’m learning that the baggage isn’t just about the negative events or circumstances that happened to us in our pasts, but it’s also about how the things that happened affected us, how we reacted to them, and how our beliefs and feelings about ourselves were shaped as a result.

God has begun healing me of emotional baggage I’ve been carrying with me since I was a child. 

Two weeks ago, sitting outside on a bench near the playground after church with a sister in Christ who lead me through a short time of focused prayer, God healed me of the pain of a lifetime of rejection and all the (extreme) people pleasing tendencies that go along with it (out of a fear of being rejected further). 

It was an overcast day, yet sitting there praying with my eyes closed, as I opened myself up to the Lord and felt Him wash right through me like a gentle wave, touching, healing, and completely dissolving the rejection that has plagued me for as long as I can remember, I distinctly saw the round, gold-to-orange glow of the sun through my closed eyelids as it pushed its way out through the clouds and I felt the warmth of the sun’s rays on my skin. I thought, “Yay! The sun's out!” Then I opened my eyes to see the same grey, overcast sky overhead. The sun had come out just for me. ("This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all." John 1:5)

For someone who has experienced one rejection after another after another throughout my 44 years, I can’t even begin to tell you how unbelievably special it made me feel that God would do that just for me as a sign of His acceptance. ("You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last." John 15:16) 

Not only does He accept me (and not reject me), but He actually chose me! 

Then late this afternoon, battling a Fibromyalgia flare-up, I finally gave in to my exhaustion and lay down to take a nap. I’ve been praying a lot lately about my life in general, asking God to show me things inside that need to be dealt with and to change me where I need to be changed – especially in light of unhealthy attitudes and behaviors that contributed to my part of the alienation of my husband's feelings toward me. As I woke up, I heard these words, “I love you with an everlasting love.” Without even needing to ask Him what He meant, He showed me that due to various events in my life starting when I was very young, and how I reacted to and processed those events, I had come to the conclusion deep down inside that I was unlovable. So my attitude and behavior throughout my life reflected that belief, ultimately driving away some of the very people I wanted to remain close to - especially my husband. And once that realization hit me, God spoke to my heart again. “You are NOT unlovable. That is a lie. I love you with an everlasting love.”

I know that God isn't finished with me, however in the last two weeks God has healed me, I believe, of two of the most painful areas in my life and I have been able to dump a couple of the heaviest pieces of baggage I was carrying as a result. I am stronger and healthier, both spiritually and emotionally, right now than I have ever been in my life. My heart is positively overflowing with gratitude. God is so amazing! 

It really kind of blows my mind to think about - the Creator of the universe, Maker of heaven and Earth, Omnipotent, Sovereign, and Almighty God, King of Kings and Lord of Lords loves me with an everlasting love.

Me.

Wow.

I am not unlovable.

I am, in fact, deeply loved. ("For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8: 38-39)

And I know that not only am I loved, I am worthy of being loved. Nothing I have done makes me worthy of this though. (“There is no one righteous, not even one… for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Romans 3: 10, 23) 

I am worthy because I am His. (“This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.” Romans 3:22)

Thank you, Jesus.

I love you too.

*When God closes a door, look for a window.

*That's actually a song by Dallas Holm. (Well the title is really "Look for a Window." You'll have to pardon the Miami Vice wardrobes - it was recorded in the 80's. But the song is still awesome.) I included the lyrics at the bottom of my post.


I know I haven't posted for several months, but honestly I've either been too busy, too tired, or too sad to be able to focus on my blog. I've been keeping a paper journal for most of the time though. Having a record of my spiritual/emotional growth is important to me. I've turned a few big-ish emotional corners recently though so I finally decided that I'm ready to pick this up again because it will give family and friends I don't see or talk to all that often a way to check in on me to see how I'm doing, and I so can (figuratively) shout from the cyberspace rooftops about all the exciting ways God is working in my life.


While the saying, "when God closes a door, He opens a window" isn't biblical in and of itself, after 24 years as a believer, I have seen it proven true in the lives of those who earnestly seek Him over and over - and now I'm seeing it manifested in my own life as well. From everything I can tell from my own experience, the experiences of others, as well as what I've read in the bible, when we pray for something, it seems that God answers in one of three ways: "yes", "no", or "wait." And while the "yes" answer  doesn't really call for any elaboration, I think the "no", and "wait" answers could stand a bit more detail.


You see, the way I figure it, the thing I had to decide up front is whether or not I trust Him. In everything. Every. Thing. Because if I do trust Him, I mean REALLY trust Him, then when He says "no" to something I really want (or "wait" - which could mean waiting for days, weeks, months or even many years for an answer), whether it's a pair of concert tickets, a car, a house, a particular job, physical healing for me or someone else - or in this case restoration of my marriage - even though my feelings may range anywhere from disappointment to honest-to-goodness grief if I don't get the answer I hope and pray for, I have decided that although I may not understand the 'why' of it right now (or ever), I'm going to continue to love, trust, and serve Him with all of my heart regardless. In my opinion, that's part of the whole "faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see" thing. (Hebrews 11:1) Because as a believer one thing I know I should always be sure of is that "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)  "Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful." (Hebrews 10:23) 


I know people who have encouraged others going through dark times, "hang in there! God's got your back!" and the people going through the trials have grumbled back, "well that's easy for you to say, you're not homeless/jobless/fighting cancer/in the process of a divorce..." etc. If you're going through a trial of any kind, let me encourage you as one who did NOT get what I prayed (begged!) God for. My divorce went through in May and my husband and I are now living separate lives. A year ago I wanted (very badly) to die. I would cry myself to sleep most nights begging God to please, please, please just take me Home to be with him. I honestly did not want to be here anymore.


A scant year later, I am a different person. Not only do I want very much to live, I want to live for Him - to bring Him glory. I want to live so He can use me to love others that are hurting. I want to live so He can  use me to show the world that God does exist and that He loves us all very much. In completely surrendering every facet of my life to Him, I have found freedom: freedom from worry - "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” (Matthew 6:25-27); freedom from anxiety - "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." (Philippians 4:6); and freedom from fear - "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us." (1 John 4:18-19)


Not only am I free from some of the more destructive things that used to plague me, but I have found peace - "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians. 4:7); contentment - "I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:11-13); and love - "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails." (1 Corinthians 4: 1-8) I am free of the need to worry, be anxious, and give in to fear because I lean on and trust God. In return I have been blessed with His peace, contentment, and overwhelming love. 


I am happy. More than that, I am filled with JOY. Given that 19 months ago I was certain I'd never be happy again, that is nothing short of miraculous to me. For the first time in my life, my happiness doesn't depend on my marital status, how many friends I have, whether or not anyone is upset with me or approves of me, or any other circumstance in my life. I made a choice to be happy simply because I am His.


I made a sign for my bedroom door. It says, "I am a princess. My Father is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords." After months of reading that reminder every day, it has finally sunken in. I didn't feel great about myself at the time anyway, but when my husband chose to end our marriage it shattered what little remained of my self-worth - I didn't feel like I was worth the dirt an earthworm crawls through. But as I said in an earlier post, my Daddy God has shown me that I am worth dying for. God has taken those shattered pieces of me and he is making an exquisitely beautiful mosaic. I am His princess. 


Circling back around to the topic I introduced at the beginning, when God closes a door in the life of a believer, He opens a window. I believe this with all of my heart. I am the oldest of three kids. One thing I always wanted since I was a kid was to have a big brother. (One would have sufficed, but more than one would have been even better. Growing up with an abusive step-father I dreamed about having someone to look out for me and protect me if necessary.) Frank is part of a large Italian family, and Italian families are generally very close-knit. And when you marry into one, for better or worse, you're part of the family too. So between Frank's three brothers and quite a few cousins (who were very much like brothers to him because they were all raised together in an "it takes a village" sort of way), I had a whole bunch of 'brothers' to look out for me. I knew if I ever needed them, they'd be there. It was a wonderful feeling.


But when I lost my husband, I also lost his family. No one is mad at me or anything like that. To the best of my knowledge I am still on good terms with everyone. I've even gotten together with a brother-in-law, sister-in-law, and a few nieces and nephews in the last several months. But it's not the same.  Even though Frank hasn't badmouthed me to them at all, they are his family after all. While I know most of them would be genuinely glad to see me, the relationships are different now. They're no longer my family to call on. 


I was thinking about this a few days ago and I realized something. Little by little God has been filling those voids in my life. I do have brothers who care about me - at church, in my Divorce Care group, even at work... But they don't care about me because of who I'm married to, they care about me for me. I have brothers who would and do look out for me. I know brothers at church and at Divorce Care pray for me. When I needed someone to put my AC in my kitchen window in June I called my church office. Debby, the receptionist, called me back a few minutes later and told me one of our elders offered to come by when I got home from work to put it in for me. Dave did and I am so grateful! I needed a trustworthy place to bring my car for some things (oil changes, etc) where I could trust they wouldn't purposely damage my car so I'd have to bring it back for expensive repairs, and a few of the guys at work recommended a place down the street. I need a dentist who cares about his patients and won't leave me drowning in debt, and one of my brothers at work recommended the dentist he & his whole family go to. (Interestingly enough he gave me the information just today, and when I got home tonight I was suddenly very aware of a need to call the dentist - like, tomorrow. Hmmm... Was it a coincidence he gave me the information just when I needed it? Um, I don't think so!) And when I need some big-brotherly advice/wisdom, I now have more than one I can turn to about a plethora of things.


So bottom line - God has been hard at work in me over the last year+. He's removed negative things and replaced them with positive things. He's filled a void in my life that He didn't need to fill, but He did and now it's just one more thing I can point to and say, "see how my Daddy God loves and takes care of me?"


And you know what? He loves you just the same. Don't believe me? Ask Him to show you. If you're genuinely open, you'll see the evidence that He's really there and He loves you. His answer may not come in the way you expect, but if your desire is genuine, He WILL answer.

And now if you'll excuse me, Someone's at the window. :^)

"Look For a Window" by Dallas Holm


Hot on the trail of God's will
And getting warmer still
Got it together this time around
There's nothing to stop you now

Stopped by the slam of a door
God, what'd You do that for?
Sometimes we just don't understand
How He wants to let us in

Chorus:
When God closes a door
Look for a window
Oh look for a window
Don't stand at the door
There might be a window
Oh look for a window
When your pathway comes to an end
It's time to begin to
Find a new road
Look for a window


Responsibilities change
And so do our pathways
One way God shows which way to go
Is to let the old road close

Repeat Chorus

There's no point 
In getting down on yourself
God is only pointing you somewhere else

The Three Most Beautiful Words at Christmas-time...

"No assembly required"

I have a wonderful son. He knew his mom needed a new desk chair, so that's what he got me for Christmas.

He was already here, in my apartment, waiting for us when my mother and I arrived after church on Christmas Eve. I was so happy to see him you have no idea. He only lives about 45 minutes-ish away, but I don't see him anywhere near as often as I would like. He's grown into such an interesting person - I really enjoy spending time with him. But I digress.

I turned off the crockpot that had the roast cooking in it and put the cheesy-mashed potatoes I'd made that morning in the microwave to reheat. Then we sat down to exchange gifts. I couldn't help but notice the box (somewhat bigger than the size of a large window fan) on the floor near where he was sitting, covered by the blanket I usually keep on the couch. He said that it was for me, so I got up and pulled the blanket off the box. It was the new desk chair I wanted, albeit unassembled. It's actually a lot more comfortable than the one I had on my amazon wish list. Oops. I digress again.

So after I hugged him & kissed him, thanking him for his thoughtful gift, I said (only half joking), "you're going to put it together for me before you leave, right?"

He grinned his mischievous, little-boy-melts-your-heart-grin and said, "nah, you can do it!"

Getting into the spirit of things I raised my arm a-la Rosie the Riveter and said, "yeah! I can do it! I am woman, hear me roar!" (sometimes even I can't believe the things that come out of my mouth) I figured that it came with instructions, and if I got stuck somewhere I could always call my friend, Debbie, who lives upstairs, to help me get unstuck. No problem. (ha!)

Fast forward five days to yesterday. I finally got around to opening the box to put the chair together. At this point though, my bravado had pretty much vanished, and all I could think about was the lamp I tried to rewire a few months ago with what looked like a fairly simple kit I bought at Walmart that came with easy, detailed instructions (including pictures!) and I still couldn't do it. (Hi. My name is Lauren and I'm chronically instructions-challenged.) I only got about half of it done and Debbie had to come to my rescue, God bless her. (oh, and the half I did, I did wrong)

Still, I figured I had to try, so I opened the box and started pulling parts out. As I laid pieces on the floor I could feel my eyes bugging out of my head. "I'm supposed to put this together? Yeah. Right." Now to someone who knows what they're doing I'm sure putting something like that together isn't a big deal at all. But to me, it could have been the engine of a car spread out on my floor for all the sense it made to me. I know that dealing with a Fibromyalgia flare-up greatly contributed to my feeling so overwhelmed, but I'm still not proud of what I did next.

I texted Frank.

Having talked to him a couple of days ago (we got an offer on our house, which I have mixed emotions about) I had told him what Kevin got me for Christmas, so he already knew I was going to attempt to put it together. And when I expressed my dismay upon opening the box, he offered to stop by and put it together for me. I'm not going to lie and say that I accepted his offer just because I really wanted to be able to use my new chair today. (sure, I did, but we all know that's not the only reason) Yes, seeing him hurts (although I’ve been surprised to discover that it hurts a little less now than it used to), but I still want/feel the need to see him. I know I probably shouldn't have texted him at all, or I should have thanked him and said I'll ask Debbie to help me try to figure it out this weekend, but hey, I'm human. And when I'm exhausted and feeling needy and vulnerable because Fibro is kicking my butt, I have more weak moments than usual. Although I'm finally starting to get into the groove of my new life (and actually enjoy it sometimes), I still miss him terribly. He's been my best friend for almost 20 years, you know?

So anyway, Frank came over after he got out of work and had the chair put together in about 15 minutes. It is SO comfortable! It feels much better than the old, broken one I'd been using. (thank you, Kevin!) I'm very grateful that Frank's not like those guys that suddenly grow huge chips on their shoulders and treat their soon-to-be former wives like crap simply because they don't want to be married to them anymore. He's been very kind and has made it clear that he still wants to be my friend when I'm ready for that, and he's made himself available to me if I ever need him.

Still, as appreciative as I am, I don't like needing to be 'rescued' in this way. I'd like to be able to handle something like this on my own next time. So that means I am in need of 'how to read and follow instructions' lessons. Volunteers? Anyone? Anyone? (Bueller? Bueller?)

Start Spreading the News

I am leaving today

Well I survived my first Christmas without Frank. I had braced myself for a weekend filled with grief and untold agony, and while I did shed some tears on Christmas morning, overall God blessed me with a weekend filled with love and laughter. To that end, if I’ve neglected to mention lately that I have the best family and friends on the planet - please allow me to correct that oversight right now. I have the best family and friends on the planet! (The best, Jerry! The best!)

I want to be a part of it
New York, New York

On Christmas Eve during the day I saw some friends for a bit then spent a few hours with a couple of my aunts and uncles, a few of my cousins, and some extended family members (lots of fun!). Later, I met my mom at church for Christmas Eve service and after that we went back to my place where we had dinner with my son, Kevin, opened some presents, and after Kevin left my mom and I watched our favorite Christmas movie. ("Christmas in Connecticut" - the Barbara Stanwyck version) I went to bed with a smile on my face. After the 11:00 a.m. service ended on Christmas day, I called my friend Eileen from the car. I had a gift for her and her husband, Steve, and I wanted to drop it off but they had a house full of Eileen’s family from New York for the weekend, as well as Steve’s mom, so I wanted to be sure everyone was up before I rang the doorbell. She told me everyone was up, so I headed on over.

These vagabond shoes
They are longing to stray

First, I want to be very clear about this: I honestly did not intend to stay. (I left my purse in the car for pete’s sake!) I wasn’t even going to go inside the house, but Eileen held the door open and told me to just come in and say hi to everyone. Well, ok. I guess I can come in and say hi. I said hello to both moms and Eileen’s brother, Jimmy, and sister-in-law, Cleo, in the living room, and we found Eileen’s brother, Michael, in the kitchen with Steve, where he was getting dinner ready to go in the oven.

Right through the very heart of it
New York, New York

Steve and Eileen opened their gift and tried to entice me into staying with a slice of one of Michael’s pies. (they invited me to stay a couple of times after I came in, but I politely declined because I was feeling emotional and just wanted to go home to be alone and cry)  However I quickly caved on the pie and ate a small piece standing in the kitchen with my coat on. I still did not intend to stay. Now as to what happened next, I’m a little fuzzy on some of the details. I’m thinking that when the chocolate pecan pie hit my system (yes, c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e p-e-c-a-n p-i-e!!!), I enjoyed it so much that it created an endorphin rush which slammed headlong into the sugar high, which in turn caused a chain chemical reaction that made it impossible for me to say ‘no’ when they asked me again to stay. I do remember making Steve promise that if I took my coat off, he’d let me help in the kitchen. When I took my coat off Eileen whisked it away, so I rolled my sleeves up and asked him what I could do, and Steve said, “Um, well nothing really.”

I want to wake up in that city
That doesn’t sleep

Mmm hmm. In other words, Michael’s pies are dangerous. They should all have warning labels on them. “Caution – eating this pie may result in temporarily taking leave of your senses”. Oh, and watch out for Steve. He's tricky. Very, very tricky. To redeem him a bit though, I was eventually able to help a little. Several hours later (they held me hostage for over 10 hours!) I had the opportunity to help clean up after the big, formal, sit-down dinner that evening. That made me feel marginally better. That and playing "Pictionary Man". What a riot! (Eileen, Jimmy, Cleo and Alisha were all pretty good at it, but I think Matt and Lance emerged as the Pictionary Man kings of the day)

And find I’m king of the hill
Top of the heap

You know, I discovered something very interesting this Christmas. I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, “you learn something new every day.” Right? Well I learned TWO new things. I think it’s pretty safe to say that it’s common knowledge that New Yorkers in general are supremely arrogant when it comes to two things in particular.Their bagels and their pizza. Having been close friends with Steve & Eileen for almost two decades, I have to say I always thought their insistence that they haven’t found any really GOOD bagels or pizza here in Massachusetts in the entire time they’ve been living here (over 15 years!) to be rather silly. I truly thought it was all in their heads.

My little town blues
They are melting away

So when I was offered an authentic, made-in-a-New-York-bakery bagel, I jumped at the chance to try one. Well… let me tell you something. IT’S NOT IN THEIR HEADS. Oh. My. God. They have officially ruined all other bagels for me. (Thanks a lot, guys!) On the plus side though, I will now be able to go to my grave finally knowing exactly what a bagel is supposed to taste like. (So, thanks, guys!)

I’m gonna make a brand new start of it
In old New York

I didn’t actually try the pizza until the next day, however. Eileen sent a piece home with me and I had it for lunch. I warmed it through in the toaster oven – not the microwave. (I remember asking if I could reheat it in the microwave and four of them said very quickly, at the same time, “No! Use the oven!”) New Yorkers are so funny.

If I can make it there
I’ll make it anywhere

I'm sure you've already guessed that my reaction to the slice of authentic New York Sicilian pizza was the same as my reaction to the bagel. I’m mad at them now. I've always loved pizza and they’ve ruined it for me! Not that I’ll never eat it again or anything, but it just won’t be the same. When I spoke to Eileen the day after Christmas to report on how I liked (loved! drooled over!) the pizza, her next words struck terror into my heart. “Do you like falafel? Because we can ruin falafel for you too.” Good God!

It’s up to you
New York, New York

A clarification to something in my last post (otherwise entitled, "Know When to Walk Away, Know When to Run")

I wanted to clarify something I wrote in my last post. This is prompted by a couple of concerned comments/questions in a couple of e-mails I received tonight.

When I wrote: "Now I’m not letting him off the hook here," etc. I wasn't saying that I'm not letting go of Frank. I HAVE let him go. That is why this is all so excruciatingly painful. If I were delusional, harboring hope that we will somehow get back together, I wouldn't be in nearly as much pain. (Um, is it too late to go that route?)

I love Frank very much and a part of me always will. But for my own sanity, for my own peace of mind, I've had to let him go and look to my future. When I said that I'm not letting him off the hook I was talking about his being responsible for the divorce. I am guilty of many things: among them being pigheaded (Who? ME? No way!), having the wrong attitude sometimes, and not having been the helpmate I should have been - but he is the one who made the choice to end our marriage. That's what I meant - I wasn't saying that I'm not letting go of him. So please don't worry about me, ok? I'm not delusional. In fact I think I'm seeing things more clearly now than I ever have.

Ok. That's it for the 'heavy' stuff for tonight. I'll try to lighten things up a bit for next time. :)

 

You've Got to Know When to Hold 'em, Know When to fold 'em...

“Some people think that it’s holding on that makes one strong; sometimes it’s letting go.” Unknown

Frank told me he wanted a divorce one year ago today. Looking back to last year, I really and truly did not think I would survive this. I thought my life was over. The love of my life just flat out didn’t/ doesn’t want me anymore. I’m not… enough. I can’t think of too many things more damaging to one’s self-esteem than that.

But you know something? Since I cut off communication with him a couple of months ago (I had to – we get along great but it was just too painful), I’ve discovered something about myself. I LIKE ME. Don’t get me wrong, I know I have my faults just like everyone else, but that’s the point I was missing for so long. I have faults just like everyone else -- not worse than everyone else. I may have had a problem with my temper once-upon-a-time, but God healed me of that several years ago. The sad thing about that is for the last several years I allowed myself to be so consumed by guilt I completely lost who I was. God had forgiven me, Frank said he forgave me, but I couldn’t forgive me. Most of the time I put my own wants, needs, and desires aside in favor of Frank’s. He never asked that of me or acted like he expected it, I just felt I owed it to him to make his life as easy as I could after causing so much turmoil in our home for so long. So I had myself paying some kind of weird penance to make up for all the years I was a raving lunatic, and as a result I grew more and more depressed (although, hindsight being 20/20, I know neglecting my relationship with God played a major part in the growing depression as well).

“Learn from the mistakes of others. You can't live long enough to make them all yourself.” Unknown

So although it wasn’t intentional, I was being dishonest – Frank didn’t really know who I was.  Heck, I didn’t even know who I was. Now I’m not letting him off the hook here, when God said, “a husband must not divorce his wife” (1 Co. 7: 11) He didn’t say anything about a special dispensation for husbands who feel like they made a mistake and aren’t in love with their wives. On the contrary, God says that His grace is sufficient for us and that His power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Co. 12:9).

Anyway, I’m finally finding me – for the first time really. Seeing myself through God’s eyes instead of through my own guilt has made a huge difference in how I feel about yours truly. He loves me. Let me say that again. The Sovereign, Omnipotent Creator of the universe, El Shaddai, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the Great I Am, Abba Father, Most High God – loves me. ME. I am worth dying for.  I am worth dying for.

"It is difficult to make a man miserable while he feels worthy of himself and claims kindred to the great God who made him."  Abraham Lincoln

So… a year after D-day and I’m surviving. Who’da thunk it? (not me!) My family (especially my mom & my sister, Gretchen), my friends (with a special nod to Debbie, Sonya, Eileen, and Mike), all of my co-workers, as well as Nick Soutter and Dan Pearce, all of you keep me laughing. Many thanks & much love to all!

 “Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.”  Bill Cosby

Blah, blah, blah... writing.

"There's nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein."   -- Walter Wellesley

Writing has been very difficult – next to impossible really – for the past several months. What used to be a joy, something that came naturally and that I needed to do (akin to breathing), has become tedious – something I force myself to do lest I forget how much I’ve always loved doing it. I sit and look at a blank page or screen, once filled with such promise, and now get absolutely nothing. While every writer experiences writer’s block at some point in their lives, this degree of ‘blockage’ has never happened to me before – and for such an extended length of time. Writing has always been an outlet for me. Whether I’m angry, sad, happy, or somewhere in between all three – I write. I’ve been doing this since I was about 9 years old, so not being able to do it is more frustrating and heartbreaking than I can begin tell you.  This forced separation from my husband has me feeling like I’ve had a limb ripped off, and my inability to write my way through it makes me feel as though I’ve lost another one.

Exasperated, I finally said something about this problem to my writer’s workshop teacher, and he told me to write for 10 minutes a day. Could be anything, he said. A letter to my soon-to-be-former husband (which I never have to send), a letter to God, a description of how much I hate it when my writing teacher emails me and gets on my butt about writing.… anything. Just be present. So after weighing my options I decided to pick up this blog again. And what better way to start than by writing about my inability to write?

The funny thing is (and I’m so amazed that I can find something funny in anything these days but, miracle of miracles, my sense of humor seems to have remained fairly intact) I really have a lot to say. So many thoughts pass through my head clearly enough, but when I put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and try to retrieve them, it’s like reaching blindly into the bottom of a deep, dark hole in a giant, old tree. You never know what you’ll come out with (if you come out with anything at all).

The can’t-write-to-save-my-life affliction aside, I’ve neglected this blog for the last several months because when I created it I really wanted to be able to capture the lighter side of this new journey I’m on. But although God has been blessing my socks off every time I turn around, the sad fact of the matter is that no matter how friendly things may be between me and my soon-to-be former husband, reality has set in hard and there really hasn’t been very much lighter side to write about.

Yet.

There’s a saying that it’s always darkest before the dawn. If so, my sunrise must be very close. (I hope! I hope!) Ah, another miracle - I still have hope. Hope for my future. But I’ll get to that at a later date.

In the interest of ending this on a more positive note, I have to say that in spite of the fact that this is the most excruciating thing I’ve ever endured (and much to my surprise, I am enduring!) there are definite bright spots.

So I’m going to start a list of these bright spots (which I will add to as the Spirit moves me) and when I’m stuck for something to write about I’ll just pick one and write about it.

My Bright Spots (after numbers 1 and 2, the rest are in no particular order):

1)      I now have a closer, stronger relationship with God than I ever thought possible.

2)      I have been blessed with peace which surpasses all understanding in the midst of more soul shredding anguish than one person should ever have to experience.

3)      I get occasional brief glimpses of the (albeit dim at the moment) light at the end of the tunnel, so I know it is there – somewhere.

4)      Kevin & Jill, Mom, Gretchen, Justen & Susan, Kim & Daddy, and the rest of my family.

5)      Debbie, Eileen & Steve, Mike & Sue, Denise, Fran, and Margaret & Glenn – the family of my heart.

6)      Judy, Bruce, Susan, Danielle, Lynne, and the rest of my Divorce Care group.

7)      My job at the College and all of the wonderful people I work with.

8)      Sandi & Tim and the rest of the Gunderclan, Brian & Sandi, Feather, Kare Bear, Andy (girls, we need to come up with a good nickname for Andy!), Tootsie-pop, Nathan & Trish, Diana & InQ, Casey, Lisa S, Draco & Perseus, Meg, Kathy, Colleen, Denise L, Lisa C, Sonya, Sharon, Noreen,  Diane and Kat & Jazz, Sue Drew, and Manny (Taco! Taco!) - among others. 

9)      Pastor Tom Curtis and everyone that goes to Holden Chapel – my church family means everything to me.

10)   Barbara, my therapist.

11)   Nick Soutter, my teacher at the writers workshop I attend.

12)   The Worcester Animal Rescue League and all of the awesome people I’ve met there, but especially the pooches that fill a dog-sized hole in my life.

13)   My apartment – while small and not without its challenges, it’s also safe, cozy, and starting to feel like home.

14)   The members of Frank’s family who have left the door open to a relationship with me when I feel like I’m (emotionally) ready.

This is by no means a complete list, so I will add to it from time to time as things come to mind.

 “I love talking about nothing. It is the only thing I know anything about.”  -- Oscar Wilde

All of this to say “I’m back!” and plan to update on a regular basis. I’m not going to lock myself into a box as far as the kind of entries I’ll post however. I’m just going to be honest about where I’m at. I may be feeling silly, serious, lifted so high I have to look down to see Heaven, or lower than the underbelly of a rattlesnake… I’m just going to be real. If you’re open to that, you’re welcome to follow me on my journey to healing.

Blessings to you!

"No News is Good News." Really? (I hope so!)

After months of job hunting, sending out COUNTLESS cover letters and resumes, going on quite a few interviews (having left with the impression that I nailed each one), a friend tipped me off a couple of weeks ago to a job opening at his place of employment (a private college not too far from my new apartment). Figuring there was NO way I could ever get it, I figured I'd apply anyway. Couldn't hurt, right? The worst they can do is say "no", and I've gotten pretty used to that.

However, a couple of days after submitting a cover letter and resume, I received a phone call. They wanted me to come in for an interview. Quite frankly I was shocked (given the stature of the College), but I figured they were probably bringing me in merely because they think highly of my friend. Determined to do him proud, I went to the interview and put my best foot forward. While there, I found to my surprise, that I felt very comfortable. The atmosphere was professional yet friendly, and I genuinely liked the people I met with. So much so I found myself praying, asking God if just maybe this could please be the one for me, but afraid to hope for such a thing at the same time.

Later, the day of my interview, I had just come home, sent off a "thank you for the interview" e-mail, kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the couch when the phone rang. It was the woman who had called me about the interview. She apologized for the request being so last minute, but she wondered if I could come back the next day to meet with HR and the President of the College. After setting things up, I pulled up information on the College President on the internet. Wow. He is VERY impressive and I was a little nervous about meeting with him. Here was this guy with all sorts of degrees and experience in advanced educational settings. What could I, a simple housewife and mother, possibly say to him to make myself stand out from the other applicants? (to the best of my knowledge, he was meeting with all four of the potential candidates for the position)

Deciding that the best course of action was to just be myself and hope that was enough, that's what I did. I went in there and answered the questions he put to me honestly. However, even after reminding myself that he puts his pants on one leg at a time like everyone else, I was still a teensy bit nervous from the moment I walked into his office. (he is rather awe inspiring) I actually drew a blank when he asked me what book I'm currently reading! (I remembered the author's name, but not the book title - good grief! Who does that?)

So anyway, one of the three women I interviewed with told me on the side that it was unanimous - that I was their first choice. (I was so stunned and humbled that I almost broke down crying on the spot.) But this was before my meeting with the President of the College, so I don't know if my meeting with him helped me or hurt me. They were supposed to have called my references at the end of last week (one of my references informed me that she was called, but I haven't heard anything from any of the others) and they're conducting a (criminal) background check. That was supposed to have been started last Wednesday afternoon. It's now Tuesday again. (how long does a CORI check take? I have no clue.) My first interview was a week ago today. If I get the job I'm supposed to go into HR at noon tomorrow to do paperwork so I'll get my first paycheck on time, and my first day will be Monday, June 20th. That's "if" I get the job.

So far, there's been no word either way. (and I'm constantly checking my "business" e-mail account for a "Dear Lauren, thank you for applying, but..." e-mail) If I don't get the job, I start job hunting again in earnest on Monday morning so I'm going to spend my lunch break on Monster.com today. (I'm painting furniture, sorting and packing for the move to my new apartment on Saturday. Egad! So. Much. Work.)

I got incredibly excited about a job I applied for a couple of months ago (see the entry: "Running with Scizzors") and was absolutely devastated when they hired someone so quickly that I didn't even get a chance to interview. I can't let that happen again. I simply don't have the emotional resources right now to withstand another severe letdown like that. Hear that, self? No excitement this time! So as much as I would LOVE this job, unless I actually get a job offer, I'm just going to assume I didn't get it. I know that sounds cynical, but I think I'm being practical. There's nothing I can do about it either way. I did my best and now it's out of my hands. All I can do is just pray that if this is the job for me, I'll get it. If not, I have to believe there's something better out there for me. It's hard to imagine a better job than this one, (and there's no way I could find better people to work with!) but I have to believe.

Oscar Wilde said that 'work is the refuge of people who have nothing better to do.' Apparently God thinks I have better things to do.

"Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life." -- Confucius

I’m trying, Confucius, I’m trying!

Good grief, but job hunting is brutal. BRUTAL, I tell you! I have even gone for an interview for a part time retail position for $8.00 an hour (RETAIL!) and wasn’t called back with a job offer. And when I say ‘part-time’ I mean fluctuating anywhere between 8 – 20 hours per week. Yeah. That’d be lucrative. Still, the no-call-back thing didn’t do much for my already low, kicked-in-the-teeth, thwacked-on-the-head-repeatedly-with-a-bag-of-rocks self-esteem.

Now don’t get me wrong, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with retail, but come on. It doesn’t take a flipping Master’s Degree to sell craft supplies to hordes of frenzied women who’d think nothing of trampling each other to death to be first in line to fill their shopping carts with 12x12 sheets of scrapbooking paper on sale for twenty-five cents apiece, or skeins of Red Heart Yarn on sale for $1.99 each to appease their latest, crafters version of G.A.S. (that’s “Gear Acquisition Syndrome” for all of you who don’t speak musician-ese) Not only am I incredibly bright (and exceptionally humble, as we’ve already established) but I’ve been a crafter/scrapbooker for many years. The only thing I can possibly think of that could have made the woman decide against me is that I’ve never used the Cricut machine. (It's a scrapbooking tool.) Come on, really? Everything else was very positive and we got along great. Or so I thought. *sigh* Ah… whatever. I didn’t really want to work there anyway. *blows raspberry*

Honestly, for someone who likes to change decor as often as I do (which translates to switching out accessories at an alarming rate) if I’m going to work retail, I’d MUCH rather work at Pier 1. I can’t think of a better place to get an employee discount! (please ignore the drool dripping down my chin) I just discovered there’s a position open in a nearby store, so I applied. I got a form e-mail this morning thanking me for my interest in Pier 1, letting me know they’d review my resume and would contact me within the next two weeks if they’re interested in interviewing me.

However I have an interview in the morning at Rotmans for part time office help, so even though I know I’d love the perks of working at Pier 1, if I had a choice between the two I’d rather get the office job. In addition to the fact that working in an office is the way I'd rather go career-wise, the hours are perfect. (M- F 9:00 am to 2:00 pm)  With those hours I’d be able to put in an hour and a half to two hours every afternoon in the Animal Rescue League office after getting out of work, and I wouldn’t be too tired to put in some major volunteer time on the weekends too. Win/win/win. (“Ask yourself, "If all jobs paid $2 an hour, what job would I want to do?" When you answer that question, start doing it, even if you have to do it for free at first” --Greg Aldrik)

Argh! For the love of friggin’ corn, I just need someone to take a chance on me! No, I haven’t had a job in a while (my husband has been supporting us), but I’m warm, friendly, smart, quick on the uptake, cute as a button (right? I’m cute! Say I’m cute!), and any business’d be lucky to have me. Seriously though, I think I’d be a great addition to any business/office. I get along great with pretty much anyone and work very well with others. (There’s no “I” in “team”, folks! Rah-rah-sis-boom-bah!) I’m moving into my own apartment in a month, so needless to say, I’m praying like a crazy person and sending out resumes left and right.

"If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door." -- Milton Berle

Hmm…

Where did I put that hammer?

Dancing Leads to Self Discovery (Get it? Dancing LEADS? Ha!)

Nobody cares if you can't dance well.  Just get up and dance.  ~Dave Barry

And so I did.

I went to hear Frank's band on Friday night. At one point late in the evening I was standing next to a couple of girlfriends and swaying a bit to the music, when a young man (not bad looking either!) came up and started dancing with me. He took my hand and asked me to join him on the dance floor and I thought, "oh, what the heck?" (Is it really a 'dance floor' though if it's carpeted? Humph. We'll have to explore that question in a separate blog post.)

Anyway, I danced with him. I have to say he was a REALLY good dancer. He had me spinning all over the place and he kept me from losing my balance at the same time (not an easy feat with my vestibular/middle ear issues). But after two songs I was hot and my left knee was feeling a little sore, so I just needed to sit and sip my drink for a bit. Apparently though this guy (I'd put him in his mid-late twenties at the oldest) seemed to think that dancing through two songs meant we're going steady. He hovered over me for awhile, wanting me to go back on the dance floor. I told him nicely (more than once) that I really needed to sit, and I pulled my friend Lisa down on the seat next to me and when he finally nodded, smiled, and walked away, thought that would be the end of it.

No such luck. He came back two minutes later when Lisa got up from the seat and a new song started. He leaned in toward me, cupped his hand around the side of my head (a very intimate gesture - TOO intimate considering the circumstances, I think) and said something (music was loud) and nodded to the dance floor. I had a set list in front of me so I knew when they were going to play the songs I liked to dance to, so I told him nicely I'd dance to a couple of songs next set but right then I needed to sit. He wandered back to his friends, and since Lisa hadn't come back to the table (she was weirded out by his hovering) I got up and went over to the table where my son and his girlfriend were sitting with a bunch of their friends, about halfway across the room.

Standing near their table, I parked myself between two of the guys, one of whom Kevin had been friends with since he was a kid and who I think of as one of my 'honorary kids'. I told him I was hiding out from the guy I had been dancing with and asked him to run interference if he saw him hanging all over me again. He told me he had my back. (such good boy!)

At that point I saw the guy get up and look at the booth where I'd been sitting, then he started heading in my general direction. I deliberately looked right at my son's friend, smiling at him while listening to him talk about his girlfriend, and even gave him a hug for good measure. (I know, I'm just a big old coward.) The guy hesitated for a split second as he passed in front of me, but he kept walking. I think he left then because I didn't see him for the rest of the night. (Whew!) When my son danced with me to one of my favorite songs a little while later, I was amused to discover that he hadn't noticed me dancing with the guy at all. There were only a couple of other people on the floor when we were dancing, so I don't know how he could've missed us. His conversation must've been pretty interesting!

I figured the guy must be drunk (why else would he want to hang all over me?) but he really didn't look or act drunk. Maybe he had a drink or two earlier and that loosened him up a bit, but he really did seem to be in full possession of his faculties. He obviously didn't notice my wedding rings, (no, I haven't taken them off yet - I am still married after all) so maybe at first he thought I was a cougar then was disappointed to find I wasn't on the prowl after all. Maybe? Ah, I don't know. It doesn't really matter.

Dancing is just discovery, discovery, discovery.  ~Martha Graham

The guy made me a little uncomfortable, but I'm grateful too because I discovered something. I discovered that I am not anywhere near ready to be in another man's arms - even casually just for a dance or two. I'd feel differently if it were a family member or a long-time friend and there was no pressure or worry about his intentions. But barring a scenario like that, I realized I need to just keep within my comfort zone. And my comfort zone is practically shouting at me, "Don't. Don't force yourself to do something you're uncomfortable doing just because you feel you need to 'prove' that you're ok with everything that's happening. Because you're not ok with it and you don't need to be. What you need to do is just be true to yourself and the people that honestly care about you will respect you and your boundaries regardless of whether they agree with you or not." (hmm... my comfort zone is pretty smart)

So that's where I'm at. Not only am I not remotely interested in dating right now, I'm tired of pretending to myself that I'm ok with even thinking about dating. I've been married for eighteen years and the day I married Frank I vowed to God, in the company of our family and friends, that I'd be faithful to him for the rest of my life. That being the case, I don't forsee myself being ok with dating for a good while yet. I have no idea how long it will take, but I won't be rushed. And you know what? I think that's perfectly ok.

Dancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is another.  ~Unknown