A thank you card at work + Seeing friends + Max playing hockey + Flowers from Shawna + Sunset Tonight
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Sweet Things
Even though life gets busy sometimes, your son breaks an arm, or a tooth, your son needs a root canal for said broken tooth, or the sun doesn't always shine, I like to remember the small, sweet things that make each and every day a gift. Especially when they are on the same day. :)
A thank you card at work + Seeing friends + Max playing hockey + Flowers from Shawna + Sunset Tonight
A thank you card at work + Seeing friends + Max playing hockey + Flowers from Shawna + Sunset Tonight
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Help When We Need It Most
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| {Sitting with me here are the most beautiful, soulful friends there ever could be.} |
Six months divorced today, I need a little something. That and the #PrayForBoston yesterday, my heart is aching, especially for the little boy that died, his family must be hurting right now. I hope they have friends and family who are there to support them during this difficult time. I am so lucky to have that. My friends and family are amazing. Even today at Carol's birthday lunch I can't believe all they did for me. Hugs, smiles, holding sweet Emma and yummy food all combined to give me the boost I needed.
I saved their cards and notes from the past six months and thought I'd share a few lines that helped me during my divorce...the ones that made a difference. I am blown away by the love that came my way as my divorce went through. Here are some words to offer someone who is going through a divorce (or any trial really.)
From my beloved (used to be) home teacher:
"I heard through the grapevine that you and Ben have split up. Naturally, it was a great shock to hear, not to mention a tremendous surprise. I don't know why or what happened, but I know that in any divorce there are hurt feelings and a lot of sadness."
"It seems like our association with the ward has been severely curtailed since our new mission call, but we still live just down the street, and I'm just a phone call away. I can't discontinue our friendship just because I'm no longer your home teacher."
From a friend, single and happy:
"I love you. I support you. I am so very sorry for the pain and transition you are going through. I have loved serving with you and getting to know you over the years. You are such a gentle, sweet, loving person. My thoughts, prayers, and desires for your happiness are with you..."
From many friends:
"To my beautiful and brave friend. Wishing you everything you need to make it through this rough time - and pray that you'll know you have a group of cheerleaders behind you who would do anything for you - just let us know what we can do. You're my hero and I love you."
"You are a woman of remarkable strength, wisdom and courage. I am so sorry that you are going through this difficult time. I know the Lord will bless you and help you through this, and your friends (me!) love you and would do anything for you. Sending thoughts, prayers and love your way and I hope you will let me be a support to you as you need it. Love you!"
"I had no idea about all the difficulties and pain you were going through. You are amazing. You always look outward, you truly are a gem."
"...most of all thank you for being a part of my life. I'm so sorry you have had this trial in your life...I can't express words that will convey to you how sorry I am. I know though that you will be strong and all will be well one day. You are such a saint I
"I love you and admire you so much. I am heartbroken that you have had to go through these challenges in your life right now. You are so dedicated to your family and living right. It just doesn't seem fair. But I know you can face this with Faith and patience and love, and Heavenly Father will bless you in your efforts and your Savior will be there to comfort your dear, sweet, soul when you need that. Life is so much harder than I expected. But I do know that "all these things shall give thee experience" - and that's what we need to be more like God. You are the sweetest, kindest person, so I don't know that you have much need of experience, but I know through this you will be an even more beautiful and remarkable person than you already are. Much love..."
"How can I put into words all the feelings that fill my soul right now? ...I didn't know anything about you and Ben even having problems... it was completely a surprise. Honestly, I went upstairs and bawled...I am in awe of you. Your courage, your honesty, your beautiful soul. I am also in awe of the Lord. He's been helping me see lately the . . . how shall I put it? The gears behind the clock face? How my heart aches with joy, though, at the same time, to see the Lord knew and He has been working in your life to help you, love you, lead you - to see it come to the point where you can let Him in like never before. Maybe because I've been more on the periphery and haven't talked with you for so long, I can see a broader view than I would otherwise. I am just so overwhelmed by the glaring evidence of his love and attention for you that stands out because of that long-view. His wisdom, his patience in waiting for the right moments to teach you what you needed at every step. To see how you've recognized it and courageously written and shared it with others. It's just so beautiful . . . I can't express. I guess it's so huge because it's such a witness to me right now of how much He must love me, too. How much he wants to help me, mentor me - guide me to learn and grow in faith. That word means so much more to me these days - faith. It's a relationship word more than a belief word to me now. It also means power. The stronger the relationship, the more we allow (Mosiah 3:17,19) his power in, to transform us as we all need - it's the purpose of this life, isn't it? Wow."
"Thank you for being such a great teacher, role-model, friend and mother. You rock!"
From a nice/normal guy at Walmart on a day I did not wear my wedding ring (he was in line behind me and lives in the neighborhood):
"Where do I know you from? I was wondering if I could take you out for something to eat?" Me: "Oh, no thank you (cringing), I am just going through a divorce." Handsome Walmart stranger: "I'm sorry for you. I'd love to take you to lunch whenever you're ready."
Lol! Well, there you have it...some things that helped my soul during a hard time. Live and learn and pass it on. I hope you have similar words coming your way from the people you love.
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| {I will forever be grateful to them.} |
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
First Signs of Spring
With the first baseball games of the season, everything seems to say spring is here.
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| Markus pitching for the Cubs |
I love this time of year. Warmer days, shorter nights, and the grass is turning green. Brings back so many memories of being at the ballpark. I'm looking forward to a new season.
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| Max's first game on KP field and he got to pitch for his team, The Dodgers |
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Here's What's Going On...
I mention in passing that I won't be around at the end of school, and the woman looks at me curiously. I'm gently rocking a sleeping baby in my arms - not mine but I somehow am lucky enough to be able to borrow him every week at church - and this is the third or fourth Sunday in a row we've been shyly trying to make conversation, to delve a little deeper into each other's lives.
"I got in to Little Red Riding Hood," I state, not sure if she knows what that is or not.
"Wow...that's...Where is it?" Such short acquaintance does not fast friends make, and she's really trying to find something to say.
"Logan," I shrug, "I entered the lottery, didn't think I would get in, but did. I have done the 100 mile women only bike ride benefiting cancer research before. Only this year they had a lottery to get in. The sign ups filled up in 45 minutes last year."
She smiles, as I'm dancing the familiar holding-a-baby slow waltz. "My daughter rode her bike in Goldilocks last year and loved it. A Century Bike Ride...it can be a life changing experience!" she says, the last words curling, almost becoming a question, and I suddenly see that we both know the familiar thread of promises pulled taut, stretched and left frayed and out of shape.
I'll be at Little Red in three months. That it is a life changing experience remains to be seen.
Here's a life changing experience:
I'm in Heber, it's late at night and I'm washing dishes, with a steel wool pad and hot soapy water. I'm standing by the sink, scrubbing the turkey pan. The kitchen at my parents house is painfully noisy, with some movie playing on the television. My sister Monet is telling the story of one of her professors at the community college asking her to think outside the box. She called it a Lateral Thinking puzzle. She said:
Monet said that the hint was given that you can make everyone happen with the right solution. After giving everyone time to think and explain their answers, she gave the correct answer:
Ben came into the kitchen and I asked him, "Is that what you would do?" (Thinking he, of course, would know that I meant his dream girl-me, would be waiting at the bus stop.) His answer will forever be embedded in my brain. Somehow I felt like I was watching the tears plummet from my face, dropping in little droplets into the dish water.
My husband has just told me something that make his words thunder to earth inside me, in contradiction to the sarcasm he used to deliver them, and I feel the planet I lived on shift beneath my feet, starting to crack and twist apart. My temperature dropped and shivering I grab my sweater. Shock, a tiny voice said, will do that. Ben's words still whirled past, assuring me that it was all going to be fine.
Suddenly I needed to leave. I held it in until after the long drive home. As I was walking down the stairs after tucking the boys into bed, the picture of Christ hanging on the wall seemed to be staring at me. It dropped off the nail it was hanging on when I walked by and broke a corner of the frame off. I asked Ben if it was a sign that our life was falling apart. I couldn't hold in the tears anymore, hair caught in my eyes and my runny nose and I knew God was watching. Was aware of my tears and panic and devastation and I stood in the hallway, feeling broken and frozen and loved all at the same time.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
I've just spent the last 20 days going over my handwritten journal of the events of that year, leading up to that night. The pain and hurt in every word is awful, and reading it now still hurts like being punched in the chest by a fighter.
All that, and Ben hadn't even told me the rest of it. I now know you can have several life changing events happen, all in the space of a couple of hours.
I'm not expecting to go to Little Red and have a life changing event. Some days (minutes) the only reason I'm going is because I've paid for it. Some days (hours) I look forward to it because I will get to see my little Connor man and Jossy. I'm looking forward to having time when I am not working, can't do housework and won't have my boys with me. I may even squeeze in a movie before I drive home.
I'm going because I'm obedient. I'm not going to race, or get the t-shirt, or impress/appall people with my fitness level, flabby legs or pale skin. I'm going because I promised God that I would go to whatever opportunities open up for me, and he made it clear that He expected me to keep it. (I asked).
Maybe it's because hockey season is coming to an end, that all these memories are jumping up at me, yelling for attention, or sneaking up on me on an ordinary Wednesday with sharp angry teeth against my beating heart. Maybe it's because I'm trying to get the last bloody string of Christmas lights down without a ladder (Ben got that in the divorce) or because I'm trying to change a stupid, frustrating bike tire on Max's bike without a wrench (Ben got the tools too) that the whole mess is getting me with hopes that I can survive the worst emotional disaster of my life, or at least be able to breathe through it.
Maybe it's because conversations at baseball sign ups have been raised that have me poking the sensitive areas, checking that the damage has been contained, that there's no rot or decay to dig out, and realizing again that hope really does float, just as promised.
Maybe it's because I'm still quietly terrified that I'm not going to get in to nursing school, that the notice I received today that I am an alternate, I'm remembering the catastrophic potential of caring about something. About choosing to take risks. And having the possibility of not really knowing what will happen at all.
Maybe it's all of it.
"I got in to Little Red Riding Hood," I state, not sure if she knows what that is or not.
"Wow...that's...Where is it?" Such short acquaintance does not fast friends make, and she's really trying to find something to say.
"Logan," I shrug, "I entered the lottery, didn't think I would get in, but did. I have done the 100 mile women only bike ride benefiting cancer research before. Only this year they had a lottery to get in. The sign ups filled up in 45 minutes last year."
She smiles, as I'm dancing the familiar holding-a-baby slow waltz. "My daughter rode her bike in Goldilocks last year and loved it. A Century Bike Ride...it can be a life changing experience!" she says, the last words curling, almost becoming a question, and I suddenly see that we both know the familiar thread of promises pulled taut, stretched and left frayed and out of shape.
I'll be at Little Red in three months. That it is a life changing experience remains to be seen.
Here's a life changing experience:
I'm in Heber, it's late at night and I'm washing dishes, with a steel wool pad and hot soapy water. I'm standing by the sink, scrubbing the turkey pan. The kitchen at my parents house is painfully noisy, with some movie playing on the television. My sister Monet is telling the story of one of her professors at the community college asking her to think outside the box. She called it a Lateral Thinking puzzle. She said:
You are driving down the road in your car on a wild, stormy night, when you pass by a bus stop and you see three people waiting for the bus
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Knowing that there can only be one passenger in your car, whom would you choose?
Monet said that the hint was given that you can make everyone happen with the right solution. After giving everyone time to think and explain their answers, she gave the correct answer:
The old lady of course! After helping the old lady into the car, you can give your keys to your friend, and wait with your dream man for the bus.
Ben came into the kitchen and I asked him, "Is that what you would do?" (Thinking he, of course, would know that I meant his dream girl-me, would be waiting at the bus stop.) His answer will forever be embedded in my brain. Somehow I felt like I was watching the tears plummet from my face, dropping in little droplets into the dish water.
My husband has just told me something that make his words thunder to earth inside me, in contradiction to the sarcasm he used to deliver them, and I feel the planet I lived on shift beneath my feet, starting to crack and twist apart. My temperature dropped and shivering I grab my sweater. Shock, a tiny voice said, will do that. Ben's words still whirled past, assuring me that it was all going to be fine.
Suddenly I needed to leave. I held it in until after the long drive home. As I was walking down the stairs after tucking the boys into bed, the picture of Christ hanging on the wall seemed to be staring at me. It dropped off the nail it was hanging on when I walked by and broke a corner of the frame off. I asked Ben if it was a sign that our life was falling apart. I couldn't hold in the tears anymore, hair caught in my eyes and my runny nose and I knew God was watching. Was aware of my tears and panic and devastation and I stood in the hallway, feeling broken and frozen and loved all at the same time.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
I've just spent the last 20 days going over my handwritten journal of the events of that year, leading up to that night. The pain and hurt in every word is awful, and reading it now still hurts like being punched in the chest by a fighter.
All that, and Ben hadn't even told me the rest of it. I now know you can have several life changing events happen, all in the space of a couple of hours.
I'm not expecting to go to Little Red and have a life changing event. Some days (minutes) the only reason I'm going is because I've paid for it. Some days (hours) I look forward to it because I will get to see my little Connor man and Jossy. I'm looking forward to having time when I am not working, can't do housework and won't have my boys with me. I may even squeeze in a movie before I drive home.
I'm going because I'm obedient. I'm not going to race, or get the t-shirt, or impress/appall people with my fitness level, flabby legs or pale skin. I'm going because I promised God that I would go to whatever opportunities open up for me, and he made it clear that He expected me to keep it. (I asked).
Maybe it's because hockey season is coming to an end, that all these memories are jumping up at me, yelling for attention, or sneaking up on me on an ordinary Wednesday with sharp angry teeth against my beating heart. Maybe it's because I'm trying to get the last bloody string of Christmas lights down without a ladder (Ben got that in the divorce) or because I'm trying to change a stupid, frustrating bike tire on Max's bike without a wrench (Ben got the tools too) that the whole mess is getting me with hopes that I can survive the worst emotional disaster of my life, or at least be able to breathe through it.
Maybe it's because conversations at baseball sign ups have been raised that have me poking the sensitive areas, checking that the damage has been contained, that there's no rot or decay to dig out, and realizing again that hope really does float, just as promised.
Maybe it's because I'm still quietly terrified that I'm not going to get in to nursing school, that the notice I received today that I am an alternate, I'm remembering the catastrophic potential of caring about something. About choosing to take risks. And having the possibility of not really knowing what will happen at all.
Maybe it's all of it.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Book of Poems
I finished typing in all of my great grandmother's poems today.
Mayhala May Fuller was born on the 25th of May, 1877 in Springville, Utah. She married William M. Mooney on the 20th of December, 1902. Together they had three children, Nevada Fern, Josephine Jewel (my grandma) and Robert Reed. She died July 18th, 1947 in Portland, Oregon. Although my mom was only 5 when she passed away, she still remembers her standing by a wood burning stove with her nylon stockings hanging down around her ankles, cooking and loving everyone around her. I hope you enjoy reading the "Blessings of May" as much as I enjoyed typing, reading and appreciating her poems written over 65 years ago.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Hockey Every Day
Markus wanted to have his birthday party at the rink this year but I told him that they have hockey scheduled everyday so that he wouldn't be able to have it there. Then I found a time that start smart is normally scheduled and they had a break for some reason. I texted all his friend's parents and planned his 10th birthday surprise bash! He looked so surprised when he walked into the rink and saw all of his friends there ready to play hockey. He told me after that it was his best birthday ever!
Monday, February 11, 2013
"Your Mom goes to college?!"
A few Sundays ago, I sat in Relief Society reading the newsletter with tips from last months “budget night” as an Enrichment activity. (We know how to balance our checkbooks, sisters. Am I right? It’s not the know-how that’s the problem. It’s the discipline. Anyways . . .)
1. Pay the Lord first
2. Pay yourself
3. Pay your expenses
All good ideas, yes (in particular the last).
"Encourage women to finish their college degrees before they get married!” I thought.
Then I remembered all the responses floating around in my head when I was 18: “It’s expensive.” “It’s time away from Him.” “It’s so hard to do with work.” “That won’t help anything now.” “What if going to school makes it so my boyfriend leaves, never to return?”
Mysister-in-law and friend, Robyn, sent me an email today asking for help with her daughter Maddie. In it she said: As you may know (or not), Maddie has such great dreams of becoming famous (on The X Factor TV show or something similar) that she is not totally gung ho about college. I know that she is voicing her opinion and we are trying to be supportive AND realistic. :) I thought that I'd ask you college veterans, since you all went and some of you waiting a long time, to send a message to me which I'll share with her at the right time answering this question:
Why is planning on a college education the most important (or one of the most) things a teenager can do?
What did you love about college?
Why are you grateful you were able to go?
What has going to college allowed you to do that NOT going would NOT have allowed you to do?
What good is college anyway?? :)
********************************************
To Maddie,
Every bit of education you get after high school increases the chances that you will earn good pay. I just got a flyer from Max's Jr. High that said two-thirds of all Utah jobs by 2018 will require a post-secondary degree or certificate. The more education you get the more likely it is you will always have a job. People with higher levels of education are less likely to be laid off and unemployed in tough economic times. The average yearly income by education is $19,915 for a high school drop out, $37,990 for an Associate's degree, $54,689 for Bachelor's, $119,009 for a professional degree.
The idea of women—mothers—going to school, even when they have young kids, is more than a nice idea, or something to get you “using your brain,” or a way to not go crazy (although it served all three of those for me). It’s your most precious asset. To me, “provident living” means preparing yourself now for a future that’s years away, gearing up for emergencies that could (possibly, but not definitely) arrive. Having a college degree, no matter when you get it, is a way to help ensure your financial situation. A college degree doesn’t have to be obtained all at once. When I went back for my Associate's, I had two (and then three) little kids. I took one class a semester. At the beginning the road seemed incredibly long. But when it was over, I couldn’t believe how quickly the time went. Now that I have applied for nursing school, every day I have women who work with me in the neuro rehabilitation department who are doing the same thing: taking one class at a time. Eventually, if you keep at it, you will get that degree.
I also realize that for me, one of the biggest obstacles to going back to school is money. It will be expensive. I can plan and save and sacrifice. Student loans are also an option. I understand that many people aren’t comfortable taking out student loans and I respect that very much. But I also know that my work is (hopefully) going to pay for my nursing degree and IMC will be well on its way to being paid back, and will be paid back many times over by the employment opportunities (flexible, fulfilling employment opportunities) that open up for me once I graduate.
Going back to school after a long time away from the classroom can be scary, too. What if all those years of diapers and Barney have overtaken the parts of my brain that analyze bio-organic chemicals or memorize the periodic table of elements? To that I say “Bah!” and add to it “Humbug!” My mom brain is even BETTER suited to college than it was when I was twenty. I swear it’s true. Why wouldn’t it be? I’ve had years of experience. I can juggle a dozen tasks at a time. I’ve read books and had responsibilities and solved problems that my barely-post-adolescent brain couldn’t even fathom. And besides, I’ve had enough experience teaching skating to people-over-a-certain-age that I can tell you this: taken as a whole, they are the most conscientious, engaged, and enthusiastic students at the rink. They *get it.* And they want to be there. Grown people, in my experience, are a joy to teach.
If the main reason you’re not sure about going to college is because you’re afraid, remember the following words by President Hinckley regarding fear and making decisions:
And Maddie, even if you never end up “using” the piece of paper you’re awarded at the end of it all—even if you never end up earning one red cent—we all know that knowledge is one of the only things we take with us where ever we go. And what’s more important than that?
Love,
Aunt B
P.S.–Extra credit if you knew this post’s title came from Napoleon Dynamite. :)
1. Pay the Lord first
2. Pay yourself
3. Pay your expenses
All good ideas, yes (in particular the last).
Then I remembered all the responses floating around in my head when I was 18: “It’s expensive.” “It’s time away from Him.” “It’s so hard to do with work.” “That won’t help anything now.” “What if going to school makes it so my boyfriend leaves, never to return?”
My
Why is planning on a college education the most important (or one of the most) things a teenager can do?
What did you love about college?
Why are you grateful you were able to go?
What has going to college allowed you to do that NOT going would NOT have allowed you to do?
What good is college anyway?? :)
********************************************
To Maddie,
Every bit of education you get after high school increases the chances that you will earn good pay. I just got a flyer from Max's Jr. High that said two-thirds of all Utah jobs by 2018 will require a post-secondary degree or certificate. The more education you get the more likely it is you will always have a job. People with higher levels of education are less likely to be laid off and unemployed in tough economic times. The average yearly income by education is $19,915 for a high school drop out, $37,990 for an Associate's degree, $54,689 for Bachelor's, $119,009 for a professional degree.
The idea of women—mothers—going to school, even when they have young kids, is more than a nice idea, or something to get you “using your brain,” or a way to not go crazy (although it served all three of those for me). It’s your most precious asset. To me, “provident living” means preparing yourself now for a future that’s years away, gearing up for emergencies that could (possibly, but not definitely) arrive. Having a college degree, no matter when you get it, is a way to help ensure your financial situation. A college degree doesn’t have to be obtained all at once. When I went back for my Associate's, I had two (and then three) little kids. I took one class a semester. At the beginning the road seemed incredibly long. But when it was over, I couldn’t believe how quickly the time went. Now that I have applied for nursing school, every day I have women who work with me in the neuro rehabilitation department who are doing the same thing: taking one class at a time. Eventually, if you keep at it, you will get that degree.
I also realize that for me, one of the biggest obstacles to going back to school is money. It will be expensive. I can plan and save and sacrifice. Student loans are also an option. I understand that many people aren’t comfortable taking out student loans and I respect that very much. But I also know that my work is (hopefully) going to pay for my nursing degree and IMC will be well on its way to being paid back, and will be paid back many times over by the employment opportunities (flexible, fulfilling employment opportunities) that open up for me once I graduate.
Going back to school after a long time away from the classroom can be scary, too. What if all those years of diapers and Barney have overtaken the parts of my brain that analyze bio-organic chemicals or memorize the periodic table of elements? To that I say “Bah!” and add to it “Humbug!” My mom brain is even BETTER suited to college than it was when I was twenty. I swear it’s true. Why wouldn’t it be? I’ve had years of experience. I can juggle a dozen tasks at a time. I’ve read books and had responsibilities and solved problems that my barely-post-adolescent brain couldn’t even fathom. And besides, I’ve had enough experience teaching skating to people-over-a-certain-age that I can tell you this: taken as a whole, they are the most conscientious, engaged, and enthusiastic students at the rink. They *get it.* And they want to be there. Grown people, in my experience, are a joy to teach.
If the main reason you’re not sure about going to college is because you’re afraid, remember the following words by President Hinckley regarding fear and making decisions:
“The problem with most of us is that we are afraid. We want to do the right thing, but we are troubled by fears and the world drifts about us. ‘Be not afraid, only believe.’ I commend to you these wonderful words of the Lord as you think of your responsibilities and opportunities.”I understand that individual circumstances might make it impossible for some women to go to school, even if they want to. But if you can make it work? Consider it. Although a part of me hates it when people say, “Women should get their educations just in case their husbands die,” (because, of course, women should get educations because women should be educated) . . . it doesn’t change the truthfulness of the original statement. As women and mothers, it isn’t frivolous to be prepared for unforeseen crises. Just because school might sound fun doesn’t mean it’s self-indulgent. Sometimes things that are practical are also (gasp!) fulfilling.
And Maddie, even if you never end up “using” the piece of paper you’re awarded at the end of it all—even if you never end up earning one red cent—we all know that knowledge is one of the only things we take with us where ever we go. And what’s more important than that?
Love,
Aunt B
P.S.–Extra credit if you knew this post’s title came from Napoleon Dynamite. :)
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Am I Nice?
It’s a fair question if you’re me.
I’ve never been the type of friend who tells you your skating dress is gorgeous when it’s obviously showing every bit of flab on your body.
And I’ll never just sit back and watch you make decisions in your life that will take you on a path away from Heavenly Father without telling you in no uncertain terms that you are being an idiot.
So does that make me nice? Before you decide, hear me out.
I’ve never been the type of friend who tells you your skating dress is gorgeous when it’s obviously showing every bit of flab on your body.
And I’ll never just sit back and watch you make decisions in your life that will take you on a path away from Heavenly Father without telling you in no uncertain terms that you are being an idiot.
So does that make me nice? Before you decide, hear me out.
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| My sweet friend Kate, and her daughter Lizzy |
I’m not like this with everyone. In order to justify my honest comments you have to have made it to the rank of “best friend” which means that we already know the good, the bad and the ugly about each other and yet for some reason we still choose to hang out. With those I rank as mere acquaintances I’m tactful, smiling, polite and decidedly mediocre in my comments, but in my desires to meddle or even know about their lives, I don’t really care enough. But with my best friends, those people I truly love and care for, I invest a piece of myself in their well-being. Kate, my friend, piano teacher and skating student showed up at the rink last month after not seeing her for over nine months and I still felt like I could cry with her in her struggles and rejoice with her in her triumphs, and today I got an email from her saying I’m always here if you need me, no matter what. So when those people ask how I am doing or involve me in their struggles, I think I owe it to them to give an honest answer or an honest opinion – isn’t that what separates them from being just acquaintances? Isn’t that what shows them that I truly do love them? Honesty?
I live by the saying that if you’re going to stab someone you love, it’s best to do it in their front. There’s no joy in telling someone you love something that you know will not be pleasant to their ears, but every so often it’s just got to be done. “The other dress was better”, “Is going back to school worth what you’re giving up?” and “When was the last time you said a prayer?” are all blunt little statements that have come out of our mouths only to be greeted by silence. We will however, hold off stabbing you with our opinions until you ask for it, mostly, and if you’re really, really lucky sometimes we can even manage to do it with some tact. Like when Kate knew I was struggling with Morgen over taking piano lessons, she sweetly gave me the book, Anatomy of Peace, for Christmas. (Seriously, a life changing book, if you haven't read it, go get it today. It is THAT good.) But if the situation somehow gets to the point where my opinion is called for, you better be prepared for my honest one because that’s exactly what you’re going to get – as your best friend I love you enough to give it.
So does this make me a nice person? Or does this make me a great best friend? (Obviously I’m hoping for the latter, but you can be honest!)
Thursday, February 7, 2013
What's New?
"Well, I'm here to release you, and extend the calling of visiting teacher, for the Relief Society" said Bishop Downs, sitting in his office after church in December.
"Will you accept?"
I knew a release was coming. Was kind of looking forward to it, actually, though I would miss the chaos and the spirit in primary.
"And we get to hang out in Relief Society together when I get back from my stake YW calling," she said.
She has ward conferences this month. And has New Beginnings to attend.
This month, I'm on my own in the deep, scary ocean of Relief Society. Without a lifeboat, or handy inflatable life vest.
I'm way out of my comfort zone once again.
Being the parent keeps me up too late at night, both physically and mentally. The ship is rocking beneath my feet, as if the waves are being pulled by a handful of demanding moons, and I have no idea which way to go or what to do to be the Mom the boys need me to be.
Shawna texted later that evening, and gave me a well-deserved pep-talk. She said something which right up to that moment I'd forgotten - "You cannot do everything on your own."
It was a shocker of a week and day. By the time I crawled into bed, I was scraped empty. Nothing left. No tears, no temper, just the hot mixture of failure and exhaustion. Saturday was only a little bit better. Saturday was when I realised just how seriously I had overextended myself. I did the grocery shopping, took Max and Marko for haircuts, and that was it. My energy was nonexistent - I was fried.
"Will you accept?"
I knew a release was coming. Was kind of looking forward to it, actually, though I would miss the chaos and the spirit in primary.
"Of course I'll accept it." I told John, then grinned.
Bishop did his patented 'You are amazing, you know that?' sigh and head shake, then admitted "I know." Then he straightened up, said "Thank you for accepting the call to serve, Sister B. The Lord will bless you for your service."
Less than half an hour later I was texting Shawna, having taken an allergy tablet, and breaking the news about my calling to Shawna. "But that's MY dream calling!" Shawna wailed in mock grief and some genuine frustration, then we chatted and commiserated and worried in tandem about our sons', our callings and just what else was coming up, unexpected or otherwise.
"And we get to hang out in Relief Society together when I get back from my stake YW calling," she said.
She has ward conferences this month. And has New Beginnings to attend.
This month, I'm on my own in the deep, scary ocean of Relief Society. Without a lifeboat, or handy inflatable life vest.
I'm way out of my comfort zone once again.
#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#*^#
Morgen has moved all his clothes over to Ben's house. I have no clue about what to do for him, or even if anything needs to be done.
My hours at work are long and tiring. I work part-time - and that is more than enough - with the 12 1/2 hour night shifts I've been working. I had a melt-down last Friday. An ugly "I've had it and I'm cold and dirty and forgot to take the chicken out of the freezer for dinner and I don't WANT to cook dinner and my house is a mess and I'm TIRED TIRED TIRED TIRED SO EXHAUSTED" kind of meltdown. I didn't pack the boys lunch (parenting fail), threw my scrubs across my bedroom (temper fail), had to scrub my hair to get the poo and pee off (of which - I realised was from giving an enema - I wore gloves and a gown but no hair net, so major hygiene fail right there).
"What can I do for you? What do you need? What can I help with? Why can't I pick up the boys from school? Huh?" As I told Shawna, it hadn't even crossed my mind that it was an option. "What do you need? Dinners? Laundry? What?" I have no idea. I just do what I do, what needs doing. I don't think about it, apart from scheduling it all in my head, I just move and try and get it all done. "You have to realise we don't live alone. We don't have to go to every single thing. You don't have to go to the Primary meeting tomorrow! You're not in Primary anymore! You don't have to go to the Stake fireside tomorrow night. Just take the weekend and do nothing. NOTHING! You've overdone it, gf."
It was a shocker of a week and day. By the time I crawled into bed, I was scraped empty. Nothing left. No tears, no temper, just the hot mixture of failure and exhaustion. Saturday was only a little bit better. Saturday was when I realised just how seriously I had overextended myself. I did the grocery shopping, took Max and Marko for haircuts, and that was it. My energy was nonexistent - I was fried.
Sunday I felt a little better. My floors were unswept and sticky, laundry was piled in five separate mountains, but I had slept in until 8am, and woke to snow dancing down the sky and grey clouds kissing my bedroom windows. I didn't emotionally or physically feel like I was slogging through a swamp. I laid in bed for a while, talking to myself for the past two weeks' stubbornness and failures, cautiously tested the ever changing borders of my comfort zones, then did nothing but enjoy the sound of snow and the feel of stretching on a slow Sunday morning.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Hockey Is Back
Max and Markus both participated in the Grizz Cup this weekend. With a total of nine games in 96 hours I would say hockey is back!
Friday, January 18, 2013
My letter to Ben
Today I read my finished apology letter to my ex-husband that I started in November. I feel profoundly grateful and at peace. I wrote and read the letter with peace as my only motive.
One year ago I could only feel sadness, loss and despair. Now I feel peace and my world is expanding. For the first time, I can now see (truly see) and love the father of my children free from the need or desire that he provide me with anything or do anything for me.
I felt grateful to myself for the sense of peace and authenticity that I was able to maintain throughout the divorce process. I noticed that I did get upset at one point as we were talking afterwards and that I reacted with defensiveness starting from a desire to be heard. I noticed and I stopped and went back to being present. We were able to have a friendly conversation and share joys and hopes for our children with an ease and connection that I had never been able to feel with him before.
I feel that I have helped make a change in our way of talking that opens the door to healing for myself and for our family. I am grateful to myself for my persistence in being healthy.
11/19/2012
Dear Ben,
When we were married I wasn’t able to find or acknowledge very much acceptance within me towards you. In our 22+ years together I don’t believe I was ever fully real with you and I don’t believe that I ever really truly felt that from you. There were times when I came a little bit close like when I watched you ride your bike. Those were rare moments when I did not judge you. I felt love, I saw beauty and I really admired you.
I would like to express what I appreciate about you.
I appreciate your ability to see what is good in others, especially our children.
I appreciate that you manage money well so that you could offer us not only security and stability but also many opportunities like travel, private preschool, hockey, summers at the pool.
I appreciate your gentle nature, your desire to be helpful and your generosity in sharing your time and attention with our boys, and others. I appreciate your loyalty during our marriage.
I appreciate that you did the best you knew how to help me be happy and your willingness to go to counseling with me and try to make our marriage succeed.
I appreciate your patience and tolerance and your impressive ability to not hold onto grudges.
Ben, you have given me many gifts.
First and most important are our 3 lovable, smart and handsome boys, Morgen, Max and Markus.
You also gave me financial security before, during and after our marriage.
For these things I am forever grateful.
I admire you. What I see and admire in you is:
Generosity
Gentleness
Caring
Patience
Ben, during our marriage I did many things that hurt you.
I expected you to be competent in many ways and I held it against you and I was cold and critical of you when you didn’t meet my expectations.
I insinuated many times that you and what you were doing was not good enough and that you should change and I didn't talk to you when you didn’t understand and agree with me.
There were times when I didn’t act like a partner in our marriage like when I made decisions about things that affected both of us without consulting you.
I often ignored your attempts to reach out physically to me and I judged your efforts to be not enough. I talked to other people about our relationship and didn’t care how you felt and I left.
During our marriage I put a lot of pressure on you to change.
I didn't listen to you when you told me that you were content with working from home for yourself and didn't want to go to school. In equal measure, I put pressure on myself to change and pressure on Morgen to change. I was very hard on all of us and I didn't understand when you were apathetic and withdrawn.
When I carried the belief that you and I needed to change, I put a great deal of attention on how we hadn't changed and I constantly pushed myself and you. I focused on what I wanted. I compared us to others.
What I imagine that it cost you is many years of not receiving collaboration and support and not being given the opportunity to feel the joy of me receiving your communication and support.
It cost me the ability to see, experience and support your strengths and to know you. It cost me the opportunities to receive your love and caring. It cost me the experience of my own self-acceptance and the experience of giving unconditional love. It cost me my confidence.
I had a motive for not noticing your unhappiness and for continually pushing for change. My motive was fear. I had fears that I needed to do things right or others would judge me, and not take me seriously. I was afraid of what everyone would think if you went running on Monday nights when our neighbors were having family home evening. And I was afraid that our boys would feel the isolation and pain that I felt in my life.
By extension, I believed you needed to do things right or I would be judged by others. And I see that when I believed you weren't doing it right, I judged, rejected, and left you in my mind and did not take you seriously. I equated your worth with what you did and how you did it.
I put you out of my heart. I equated my worth with what I did and how I did it. I put me out of my heart. I feel like this cost you my love, support, peace, companionship and connection. It also cost me my love, contentment, peace, support, companionship and connection both to myself and to you.
I experienced it as causing separation, heaviness and stress in our family.
I am sorry that I didn't listen to you and that I put unachievable expectations on you and blamed you when you did not meet my expectations.
For the many times and the many years that I treated you unkindly I am sincerely sorry. If there are things that I did that hurt you and that you would like me to know about or acknowledge I am ready to listen and I would like to hear them.
I am profoundly sorry for the stress I have caused you and our boys and am willing to do what ever I can to make it better.
Please tell me. I am committed to living my life differently than I did in the past. The ways that I have decided to do this are:
1. To notice when I have the thought that someone else, especially those closest to me like our boys, should do or be in a particular way and then look at how I can be or do it myself. My goal is to never tell another person what they should be or do or how they should think or act and if I do to notice and make amends as quickly as possible.
2. Another way is to stop blaming anyone or anything for how I feel or experience life.
3. Also, when I notice that someone has contributed toward my well being that I will acknowledge them by telling them in person or in a note as soon as possible.
If you ever feel that I am blaming you, accusing you or criticizing you I ask that you point it out to me because I am sincerely working on not seeing you, or anyone for that matter, as my opponent or enemy.
I am grateful to you. I am grateful that you are the father of my children, they love you and I do too.
Love,
B
P.S. After writing this letter I loved how it helped me see that I am what I believe another is. It revealed to me how my actions are exactly what I dislike about another.
I hope that this letter helps people who are supposedly suffering in a relationship see themselves as they truly are. It looks like it’s a new beginning for me and I’m sure there is more to be learned.
One year ago I could only feel sadness, loss and despair. Now I feel peace and my world is expanding. For the first time, I can now see (truly see) and love the father of my children free from the need or desire that he provide me with anything or do anything for me.
I felt grateful to myself for the sense of peace and authenticity that I was able to maintain throughout the divorce process. I noticed that I did get upset at one point as we were talking afterwards and that I reacted with defensiveness starting from a desire to be heard. I noticed and I stopped and went back to being present. We were able to have a friendly conversation and share joys and hopes for our children with an ease and connection that I had never been able to feel with him before.
I feel that I have helped make a change in our way of talking that opens the door to healing for myself and for our family. I am grateful to myself for my persistence in being healthy.
11/19/2012
Dear Ben,
When we were married I wasn’t able to find or acknowledge very much acceptance within me towards you. In our 22+ years together I don’t believe I was ever fully real with you and I don’t believe that I ever really truly felt that from you. There were times when I came a little bit close like when I watched you ride your bike. Those were rare moments when I did not judge you. I felt love, I saw beauty and I really admired you.
I would like to express what I appreciate about you.
I appreciate your ability to see what is good in others, especially our children.
I appreciate that you manage money well so that you could offer us not only security and stability but also many opportunities like travel, private preschool, hockey, summers at the pool.
I appreciate your gentle nature, your desire to be helpful and your generosity in sharing your time and attention with our boys, and others. I appreciate your loyalty during our marriage.
I appreciate that you did the best you knew how to help me be happy and your willingness to go to counseling with me and try to make our marriage succeed.
I appreciate your patience and tolerance and your impressive ability to not hold onto grudges.
Ben, you have given me many gifts.
First and most important are our 3 lovable, smart and handsome boys, Morgen, Max and Markus.
You also gave me financial security before, during and after our marriage.
For these things I am forever grateful.
I admire you. What I see and admire in you is:
Generosity
Gentleness
Caring
Patience
Ben, during our marriage I did many things that hurt you.
I expected you to be competent in many ways and I held it against you and I was cold and critical of you when you didn’t meet my expectations.
I insinuated many times that you and what you were doing was not good enough and that you should change and I didn't talk to you when you didn’t understand and agree with me.
There were times when I didn’t act like a partner in our marriage like when I made decisions about things that affected both of us without consulting you.
I often ignored your attempts to reach out physically to me and I judged your efforts to be not enough. I talked to other people about our relationship and didn’t care how you felt and I left.
During our marriage I put a lot of pressure on you to change.
I didn't listen to you when you told me that you were content with working from home for yourself and didn't want to go to school. In equal measure, I put pressure on myself to change and pressure on Morgen to change. I was very hard on all of us and I didn't understand when you were apathetic and withdrawn.
When I carried the belief that you and I needed to change, I put a great deal of attention on how we hadn't changed and I constantly pushed myself and you. I focused on what I wanted. I compared us to others.
What I imagine that it cost you is many years of not receiving collaboration and support and not being given the opportunity to feel the joy of me receiving your communication and support.
It cost me the ability to see, experience and support your strengths and to know you. It cost me the opportunities to receive your love and caring. It cost me the experience of my own self-acceptance and the experience of giving unconditional love. It cost me my confidence.
I had a motive for not noticing your unhappiness and for continually pushing for change. My motive was fear. I had fears that I needed to do things right or others would judge me, and not take me seriously. I was afraid of what everyone would think if you went running on Monday nights when our neighbors were having family home evening. And I was afraid that our boys would feel the isolation and pain that I felt in my life.
By extension, I believed you needed to do things right or I would be judged by others. And I see that when I believed you weren't doing it right, I judged, rejected, and left you in my mind and did not take you seriously. I equated your worth with what you did and how you did it.
I put you out of my heart. I equated my worth with what I did and how I did it. I put me out of my heart. I feel like this cost you my love, support, peace, companionship and connection. It also cost me my love, contentment, peace, support, companionship and connection both to myself and to you.
I experienced it as causing separation, heaviness and stress in our family.
I am sorry that I didn't listen to you and that I put unachievable expectations on you and blamed you when you did not meet my expectations.
For the many times and the many years that I treated you unkindly I am sincerely sorry. If there are things that I did that hurt you and that you would like me to know about or acknowledge I am ready to listen and I would like to hear them.
I am profoundly sorry for the stress I have caused you and our boys and am willing to do what ever I can to make it better.
Please tell me. I am committed to living my life differently than I did in the past. The ways that I have decided to do this are:
1. To notice when I have the thought that someone else, especially those closest to me like our boys, should do or be in a particular way and then look at how I can be or do it myself. My goal is to never tell another person what they should be or do or how they should think or act and if I do to notice and make amends as quickly as possible.
2. Another way is to stop blaming anyone or anything for how I feel or experience life.
3. Also, when I notice that someone has contributed toward my well being that I will acknowledge them by telling them in person or in a note as soon as possible.
If you ever feel that I am blaming you, accusing you or criticizing you I ask that you point it out to me because I am sincerely working on not seeing you, or anyone for that matter, as my opponent or enemy.
I am grateful to you. I am grateful that you are the father of my children, they love you and I do too.
Love,
B
P.S. After writing this letter I loved how it helped me see that I am what I believe another is. It revealed to me how my actions are exactly what I dislike about another.
I hope that this letter helps people who are supposedly suffering in a relationship see themselves as they truly are. It looks like it’s a new beginning for me and I’m sure there is more to be learned.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
More Fun in the Sun
Markus had his day in the sun this time when his hockey team was undefeated going into the championship game to play Park City.
Fun times.
Fun times.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Sun Shines in Sun Valley
Max's hockey weekend in Sun Valley. My sister Darlin was sweet enough to let us stay with her. She came to a game and took us skating with her afterwards. What a fun way to spend a weekend.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Blogging
First day of December. I can't wait to enjoy a few festivities downtown over the next few weeks. Right now I'm most excited about doing some gift shopping (I always love the chance to check some items off my christmas list.) And, I'm excited about the first presidency Christmas devotional. I've never been to one! Five years ago I never imagined my life as being like it is today. If I hadn't written about it, I might not remember all that has taken place. I am grateful.
Do you still blog or write in a journal?
I was given a journal as a marriage present. I never once wrote anything negative in it. Not a single bad word about anyone. It's like there were too many messy things in the closet. Writing them down would be so hard. Yet writing without mentioning them seemed to feel artificial. So the book remained a sort of gratitude journal I guess. Trying to focus on the positive was an accurate record of how I felt at the time.
As soon as my marriage ended, even that first weekend in November after he left, I pulled out that old journal and began writing as I sobbed:
"I am sadly ending this journal on a very sad note. He's gone. How did I get here? I want to feel comfort, safety, peace. I need to have faith in my life. I want to feel whole. I know I do not need a spouse to feel peace and happiness...to feel OK just being a daughter of God."
Although I didn't think I could, it felt so good to do it. I am in the process of reclaiming my voice, thus the fact that I am willing (and able) to write anything at all.
My voice is getting stronger and stronger. And even though there have been days since that I have shied away from recording anything in my life, I want to keep writing. So I can remember.
What a difference five years makes. It makes me think a lot more about journaling. I think there's something extra going on that I'm just starting to realize. I see that it demands I am true to myself. It demands vulnerability. It's very hard to fake anything in a journal. It's a record of my soul. And I think the act of writing in a journal or blog (or the inability to write in it) can reveal a lot about me, if I allow myself to admit it....
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Sweet November
- Paint a wall pink. I haven't done this literally, but I've made a few girly decorating changes around my home that Ben would have vetoed.
- Write my will. I need to do this! I did have one before though.
- Have a make out session. I got married young and Mormon, so I missed out on this before I got married.
- Have lunch with my friends. Mandatory, as much as possible.
- Take a trip alone. Not a single-mom vacation with the kids -- ALONE, preferably overseas, in a foreign country, or at a beach.
- Buy flowers for myself. Because they make me happy and I know exactly the kind I want.
- Go out as mutton dressed like lamb. No one will die as a result.
- Get in shape. I started with Zumba class and have now added yoga. This helps ward off depression, makes me feel energetic and powerful, and okay, maybe helps me look a bit better, too.
- Get a grip on my finances. Where is my money coming from, how much do I have, where is it all going? What are my goals?
- Meditate. I need to get back in the habit, but this practice really carried me through some tough months.
- Get a theme song. I change mine from time to time, but I need something that makes me feel like a superhero.
- Flake. I've become an expert.
- Do therapy. Can't even imagine doing divorce without this.
- Get a massage. (Why stop at one?)
- Swim in the ocean naked. (Still haven't done this one.)
- Get my cards read. Getting insight into my life from someone who didn't know me, who wasn't a therapist, either, was so enlightening.
- Learn to say no. I needed to set new limits so I wouldn't feel overwhelmed -- or guilty.
- Learn to say yes. On the other hand, saying yes to trying new things helped me move forward.
- Sleep in ridiculously late while my boys are at dad's. One benefit of my family now living in two different households.
- Sleep in my bed diagonally. Because I can.
- Watch a movie alone. This is so fun, I'd recommend it for married women, too.
- Flirt with strangers. They just might flirt back.
- Go grocery shopping with my sunglasses on. (This was for the first day or two after being separated.)
- Spend a day in bed crying. Get up the next day and move on with my life.
- Take a dance class. Dancing forces you to think one step ahead and stay light on your feet.
- Start a Pinterest board. Yeah, I'm that big of a dork.
- Make a list of everything I want in my next boyfriend. Because hope is healthy.
- Date outside my type. How'd that type work out last time? Not so great, right? Yup, time to try something new.
- Buy and wear something stylish that makes me feel hot. Just so I remember I'm still youngish and alive.
- Learn to make myself happy alone. Before I start dating.
- Watch Hope Floats. This is the best divorce movie ever.
- Pay it forward and talk with a friend who just separated from her husband. I need to do this more often, but it's how I show my gratitude to the friends who helped me.
- Find something about my marriage to laugh about. Remember the good times, go easy on us both.
- Become my own handyman. I now know how to unclog the pipes under my sink! I'm not saying I like doing this, but I like knowing that I can.
- Spend a week in Ireland. Doing that soon!
- Read journals from before I was married. That helped me remember who I was before and why I got married in the first place.
- Eat ice cream for dinner. I did this once and was shocked at how good it made me feel. And then I never did it ever, ever again.
- Learn how to walk in high heels. Sexy and dignified at the same time -- it's possible. I think?
- Stay up all night writing. Maybe it could just be a country song? Move on and think about the role I played in my relationship.
- Learn to forgive. That's when I'm truly free.
- Get my RN license. Still working on this.
- Buy myself an "I'm Divorced" ring. As soon as it was finalized, friend.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Final
I finished my final in my CNA class today with a 99.5%. I just have two more clinicals and I will be able to submit my application to the state for testing which in turn will put me on the completed pre-requisites list for nursing school.
My divorce was final today as well.
My divorce was final today as well.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Filling The Holes
In this beautiful world, most everyone has holes that are punched into the fabric of their lives by painful past experiences, tearing their souls. At lunch on Wednesday with Laurie, I was inspired to heal my holes, so they can't limit my life and prevent me from reaching my potential. I know God doesn’t want me to have holes; He wants me to be whole: full of the power to fulfill all of His great purposes for me. In praying with Laurie over the delicious pork tacos that she invited me to come and share with her - I thought of these ways to fill the holes in my life. I looked into the hole of religion. Religion that doesn’t reflect the reality of who Christ is leaves me with holes that point to rituals and rules as ends in themselves rather than as ways to express my faith in Christ. When I did have religious holes in my soul, I struggled with guilt, mistakenly thinking that Christ won’t really love me because I sin differently than someone else, or that I constantly have to impress Him in order to come unto Him. I believe in Christ because of people who have earned my trust, and I didn't always distinguish between sinful people and Christ, who never sins. My belief in Him couldn't lead to any real change in my life because it would escape through the holes in my soul before I could put it into action.
I stopped trying to earn God’s love through how well I'm performing my primary president calling, and instead felt the unconditional love that He offers me. I feel my Savior's love in all the world around me. I'm relying on Heavenly Father's power working through me to live faithfully; not my own limited efforts. When I was laying in the recliner giving blood at church later that same day, I was hit with the reality of learning from these good, good people in the church, at the same time allowing them to be human and realized I need God’s grace just as much as they do. I trust that when I pray about how to relate to different people, God’s love will cover each situation and work it out for the best.
I feel like I can grow closer to Him and become the person He wants me to become once the religious holes in my life are filled.
While it’s fine to enjoy the various roles that I've been given to fulfill in life -- from my personal roles (like mother, sister, or friend) to my professional role in my work – if I define myself by those roles, I'll get more holes in my soul. My identity as a daughter of God comes only from my relationship with God; only that can truly fulfill me. My roles can bless my life, but only my relationship with God can actually change my life in the ways that matter most. My roles, while important, are temporary. My individual worth as God’s beloved daughter is eternal. Even when all of my roles have been taken away, nothing can ever separate me from Heavenly Father's love for me as one of His daughter's.
I realized, while watching and listening to my friend Mindy through the course of her birthday lunch on Friday, that your relationship with God is all that ultimately matters in your life – and it’s enough, even if you don’t fulfill any other role in life than simply a person whom God loves. So I made a conscious decision not to let my roles define me, even though I enjoy them, I realized that while I may lose them at any time I'll still be okay. I want to invest the best of my time and energy into growing my relationship with God, like my friends, I can see that’s what’s most important in life. I have watched her for years as she has derived her sense of personal worth from the knowledge of God’s great love for all of us.
I read this today: "Distinguish between your experiences and what life circumstances you’ve gone through, but your story is the journey that you and He have taken together in your life. Painful past experiences may punch holes in your soul, if you let the pain they’ve left you with hold you back from fulfilling God’s purposes for you. Past experiences may limit your life and potential, unless you invite God to fill the holes that they have left within you."
I can heal the holes from past experiences. While I look past the pain of the painful experiences I've gone through I can learn the valuable lessons that God wants me to learn. I understand that my marriage was not a failure because it helped me get to know Christ better. I believe what success means from God’s perspective is drawing closer to God in the effort to serve Him. My home teacher, Steve, said goodbye today as he leaves with his wife to fulfill an inner-city mission. He was a great example of someone using that definition (instead of the world’s definition of success) to consider past experiences from God’s perspective and see how worthwhile they really were. He told me that knowing God is the greatest experience you can ever have, so whenever an experience teaches you something more about God, it’s a blessing. I love that.
I know what God thinks matters more than anyone else in life. I can heal from all these holes in my soul because I have come to the end of myself, and I look back to see that none of my own efforts were enough to heal me, and I'm choosing to rely fully on God for the healing I need.
