About the pictures--
When I look at things like clouds and spackled walls and peeling paint I see pictures. Animals, faces of famous (and not so famous) people. It's usually when I'm feeling bored, or lonely, or when I can't sleep-- This week I discovered a new setting for seeing pictures in unexpected places-- when I'm uncomfortable. During a doctor's appointment this week I saw William Shakespeare's face in the air vent in the ceiling. Okay, I know it's weird, but I think my imagination takes over when my emotions can't handle the place that I'm in. Does this happen to anyone else, or is it just me?
And about the Protestants--
This weekend I have to miss church because of a family event. This isn't exactly true... I will not be missing church, I will be missing my church family. I will be attending church elsewhere with the rest of my family because the church that I attended as a child is honoring a friend of the family for her 95th birthday. It will be great to celebrate the occasion, as she's a really sweet lady.
This is taking place at the Lutheran church that I attended until I was 9 years old. I have only been back there twice and both experiences have left a bad taste in my mouth... I'm sure it works out well for some people, but for me I can't handle the exclusivity of it all. I don't really agree with the rules of the church that state that only someone who has gone through confirmation in that particular church can partake of communion-- among other things. I will be missing home this weekend. I will be missing the people who love me as I am, the people who actually know me-- who can look at me and know when something is not right. But at least I know I have someplace to call home. Someplace that I can go back to time and time again and be blessed by the company of true friends.
Today's post was brought to you by the letter: P
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
The best thing he ever did for me...
Sorry all! This post is long!
Today was father's day. I have a great relationship with my father. I also have a great relationship with my mother (most of the time). I would call my relationship with my parents together somewhat mediocre. It's hard to be around them together because it upsets me that my mom doesn't appreciate the good things about my dad. She only sees his faults and holds them against him every chance she gets. She never mentions the things she likes about him. When I ask, she makes a joke, like "I married him because I thought he had money," but she never says anything positive about him. I've come to a point where when I spend time with just her, I have to tell her that I don't want to hear it when she starts complaining about my dad again. That's not to say that he never does anything wrong-- after all, he is human like the rest of us-- but most of us can look past those things to see the things we love about the person. I can't understand how my dad handles it, never hearing kind words about the valuable qualities that he has, about the great things that he does. He has always been my advocate and encourager.
For this reason, I want to share the best thing my dad ever did for me-- mostly because he reminded me of it today and I need to get it out, since there are parts of it that my family and even my closest friends don't know--parts that I had blocked out of my mind until recently. Parts that I have run away from. And my dad doesn't entirely know what he did for me. He could handle it, but my mother couldn't. And I can't tell one without telling the other.
Anyway, this afternoon, I went to have coffee with my parents at Starbucks. My dad and I were browsing through the "Homes" section of today's paper as I am always browsing at the cost of condos-- it's about that time for me to just live my life as it is now, rather than how it could/should be. Of course the only condos listed in the "Homes" section of the Sunday paper are the new condos, which are completely out of my price range. So while my mom went over to Linens-n-things to look at vacuums, my dad and I started talking about condos that ARE in my price range. There is one that I could even afford right now with no money saved. It has been fixed up beautifully-- I'm not crazy about the location of it, but with the right price and the right home, that would be fine. But despite the perfect price tag, I CANNOT and WILL NOT consider this condo. And when I told my dad where it was, he instantly knew why-- even though I thought he wouldn't remember, he did. I told him I knew someone who lived there and he said, "Yeah, that jerk who tried to....." Yes, he really did trail off at the end like that, which makes the perfect segue into the real story.
Many of you know I had my first real boyfriend when I was eighteen-- and that I didn't really like him, I just wanted to know what it would be like to have a boyfriend. I didn't really know him when we started dating and had no way of knowing what a lunatic he really was. He knew from the start my stance on sex-- he knew that I was waiting for marriage, and he told me that was okay--that he respected that. Twelve days after we started dating, he bought me two dozen roses and a necklace for Valentine's Day. I told him that it was too much and that I only had something small for him. This is when he started trying to get me to drop my principles. He told me that there were other ways I could make it up to him. I just laughed and ignored it.
A few days later he started telling me he loved me. I said nothing back. This upset him and he would grab me by the arms and pull me toward him and ask why I didn't say anything back. It made me nervous, but I told him that I didn't want to say it unless I truly meant it. I'm not the type to casually toss around words of affection. He told me that I could make it up to him by performing certain illicit deeds that I would prefer not to mention here. He said he was joking, but I always knew he wasn't.
After about a month, I knew I'd made a bad decision, but it took me another month to get the courage to actually tell him it was over. Another month of dodging advances and groping hands. Each time I told him I didn't want what he was offering, he got more emotional than I have ever been. He went into self deprecating mode saying that it was probably because he was too fat and that no girl would ever like somebody so fat. And each time I would have to explain again that I was saving myself for marriage and that I did not think he was ugly (even though I really did...) Finally, I decided to do it and he threatened to kill himself if I broke up with him. I was miserable. I had taken to punching walls and hitting myself with hard objects. But I was afraid he would really do it and I would have another thing to make me miserable--I would feel responsible even though I wasn't. I chickened out. I took it back, lied and told him I didn't mean it.
Two weeks later his dad and step-mom took us to dinner with them, after which they invited us out to their house. I didn't have my drivers' license at the time, and so I went where he went. At his dad's house, I had my first taste of alcohol aside from champagne and orange juice with my parents on New Years. His dad insisted that I HAD to try a shot of Aftershock. That it would be the best thing I ever tried. I am aware that it was a bad decision, but I was curious. I tried it, and it felt good. It made me feel a little bit numb and forget about all of the awful things this guy said and did. I followed up the Aftershock with two shots of peach schnapps and a mug of Goldschlager and hot chocolate. I felt good for the first time in two months.
After the hot chocolate, we left and went back to his condo-- the one in the complex where I can now never consider living. I was tired and tipsy and just wanted to go home-- bed sounded like a good place to be. But again, I didn't drive and therefore went wherever he went. So it was his condo. It was just as good of a place as any to sleep. But I didn't plan on what happened when we got there. I climbed into the bed and curled up to go to sleep-- his plans were different. He started removing my clothing one item at a time. I was kind of drowsy and out of it. I though if I just ignored him and did nothing that he would leave me alone, so I (stupidly) let him do what he was doing. I hated it. I felt disgusted, but I was drowsy and dizzy and didn't feel like fighting. But he kept going. He tried to do the one thing that I told him that I specifically told him I didn't want. I spoke up. I told him to stop. He told me that he knew that I would like it once he started. He kept trying, but I started squirming. I found within me a strength I didn't know I had. I know it sounds cliche, but it is the only way to explain what happened. How else could I have pushed aside a 24o lb male? I pushed him away and ran to the bathroom and cried. Once I came out, I discovered he'd fallen asleep. I considered calling my parents but I didn't want them to know about all of the stupid decisions I'd made that led to me being drunk and alone in a condo with someone that I knew had the will and the strength to force himself on me.
After that night, I stuck with him because I was afraid that what I had allowed him to do, though it was not everything, was still enough to ruin me for other guys. I was afraid that people would know. And I figured that since he'd already done a little sampling, he might as well continue. Yes, I know-- yet ANOTHER bad decision on my part. But mostly I tried to make sure that we were never alone at his condo again so he never had the opportunity to take it all from me. I only spent time there when I knew that his best friend or my best friend would be there. The rest of the time we hung out at my parents' house or in public places. I couldn't risk another experience like that. I never drank around him again, either. (Yeah, I know-- DUH!)
Finally around month four, I got up the nerve to call it off for good. I didn't care if he hurt himself, and I think part of me had figured out that he was just emotionally manipulating me. I did it over the phone so I wouldn't back down when he started crying.
Now I'm sure you know this isn't the end of the story, since I still haven't gotten to what my dad did for me.
About two weeks after I broke up with boyfriend number one, I started seeing boyfriend number two. He was a friend and he was there and it was convenient. Not a good reason to date someone, but at least I knew something about him. I'd known him for four years, so I felt safe with him. About a week after I started seeing him, I also started seeing boyfriend #1's car appearing in all of the places that I was. When I was at work, I would see his car go by four or five times a day. He tried calling but I wouldn't talk to him. He drove by my house each day, too. He even knocked on my window a couple of times and when I saw it was him, I went to another room. He asked my best friend why I wouldn't talk to him. She told him that I really didn't like him because he had tried to force me to sleep with him. And he told her, "If I want to sleep with her, there's nothing she can do to stop me." When my friend told me about this, I got a bit freaked out since he was basically following me everywhere.
At this time my parents didn't know the slightest about what had happened during my relationship with boyfriend #1, but I think my dad knew that something not so good had happened. He didn't say anything, but he is pretty insightful... He knew that boyfriend #1 kept calling, because it was their phone, and I was refusing the calls. He knew that boyfriend #1 kept trying to see me at work, because I told my parents that part. One night about two weeks after that creepy, threat-like statement, I was out with my friend and boyfriend #2 was out with his friends. And boyfriend #1 calls my friend's cell phone and demands that she put me on the phone. She lies and tells him that she just dropped me off at home. He tells her that he just talked to my dad and he said that I was out with her. My dad had mistaken him for boyfriend #2 (they actually could sound quite similar on the phone) and told him that I was out with said friend. My friend lied again and told him that he must have JUST missed me. He called my parents house again and this time my dad recognized his voice. My dad told him that if he didn't stop calling that he was going to hunt him down and remove certain body parts that I would prefer not to mention. Now I know that violence is not the answer, and my dad also knows that. He would never actually commit the acts that he speaks of-- but for him to be angry enough to say it was enough. I never heard from boyfriend #1 again. The truth is, my dad can be quite scary when he is angry. I have only seen him TRULY angry twice in my life, and both times were in my defense-- so I can imagine what he sounded like on this occasion. Whether or not it was the right thing to do, it made me feel a little bit safe again when I thought I might never feel safe again. He protected me the way only a father can. And that is the best thing he ever did for me.
Today was father's day. I have a great relationship with my father. I also have a great relationship with my mother (most of the time). I would call my relationship with my parents together somewhat mediocre. It's hard to be around them together because it upsets me that my mom doesn't appreciate the good things about my dad. She only sees his faults and holds them against him every chance she gets. She never mentions the things she likes about him. When I ask, she makes a joke, like "I married him because I thought he had money," but she never says anything positive about him. I've come to a point where when I spend time with just her, I have to tell her that I don't want to hear it when she starts complaining about my dad again. That's not to say that he never does anything wrong-- after all, he is human like the rest of us-- but most of us can look past those things to see the things we love about the person. I can't understand how my dad handles it, never hearing kind words about the valuable qualities that he has, about the great things that he does. He has always been my advocate and encourager.
For this reason, I want to share the best thing my dad ever did for me-- mostly because he reminded me of it today and I need to get it out, since there are parts of it that my family and even my closest friends don't know--parts that I had blocked out of my mind until recently. Parts that I have run away from. And my dad doesn't entirely know what he did for me. He could handle it, but my mother couldn't. And I can't tell one without telling the other.
Anyway, this afternoon, I went to have coffee with my parents at Starbucks. My dad and I were browsing through the "Homes" section of today's paper as I am always browsing at the cost of condos-- it's about that time for me to just live my life as it is now, rather than how it could/should be. Of course the only condos listed in the "Homes" section of the Sunday paper are the new condos, which are completely out of my price range. So while my mom went over to Linens-n-things to look at vacuums, my dad and I started talking about condos that ARE in my price range. There is one that I could even afford right now with no money saved. It has been fixed up beautifully-- I'm not crazy about the location of it, but with the right price and the right home, that would be fine. But despite the perfect price tag, I CANNOT and WILL NOT consider this condo. And when I told my dad where it was, he instantly knew why-- even though I thought he wouldn't remember, he did. I told him I knew someone who lived there and he said, "Yeah, that jerk who tried to....." Yes, he really did trail off at the end like that, which makes the perfect segue into the real story.
Many of you know I had my first real boyfriend when I was eighteen-- and that I didn't really like him, I just wanted to know what it would be like to have a boyfriend. I didn't really know him when we started dating and had no way of knowing what a lunatic he really was. He knew from the start my stance on sex-- he knew that I was waiting for marriage, and he told me that was okay--that he respected that. Twelve days after we started dating, he bought me two dozen roses and a necklace for Valentine's Day. I told him that it was too much and that I only had something small for him. This is when he started trying to get me to drop my principles. He told me that there were other ways I could make it up to him. I just laughed and ignored it.
A few days later he started telling me he loved me. I said nothing back. This upset him and he would grab me by the arms and pull me toward him and ask why I didn't say anything back. It made me nervous, but I told him that I didn't want to say it unless I truly meant it. I'm not the type to casually toss around words of affection. He told me that I could make it up to him by performing certain illicit deeds that I would prefer not to mention here. He said he was joking, but I always knew he wasn't.
After about a month, I knew I'd made a bad decision, but it took me another month to get the courage to actually tell him it was over. Another month of dodging advances and groping hands. Each time I told him I didn't want what he was offering, he got more emotional than I have ever been. He went into self deprecating mode saying that it was probably because he was too fat and that no girl would ever like somebody so fat. And each time I would have to explain again that I was saving myself for marriage and that I did not think he was ugly (even though I really did...) Finally, I decided to do it and he threatened to kill himself if I broke up with him. I was miserable. I had taken to punching walls and hitting myself with hard objects. But I was afraid he would really do it and I would have another thing to make me miserable--I would feel responsible even though I wasn't. I chickened out. I took it back, lied and told him I didn't mean it.
Two weeks later his dad and step-mom took us to dinner with them, after which they invited us out to their house. I didn't have my drivers' license at the time, and so I went where he went. At his dad's house, I had my first taste of alcohol aside from champagne and orange juice with my parents on New Years. His dad insisted that I HAD to try a shot of Aftershock. That it would be the best thing I ever tried. I am aware that it was a bad decision, but I was curious. I tried it, and it felt good. It made me feel a little bit numb and forget about all of the awful things this guy said and did. I followed up the Aftershock with two shots of peach schnapps and a mug of Goldschlager and hot chocolate. I felt good for the first time in two months.
After the hot chocolate, we left and went back to his condo-- the one in the complex where I can now never consider living. I was tired and tipsy and just wanted to go home-- bed sounded like a good place to be. But again, I didn't drive and therefore went wherever he went. So it was his condo. It was just as good of a place as any to sleep. But I didn't plan on what happened when we got there. I climbed into the bed and curled up to go to sleep-- his plans were different. He started removing my clothing one item at a time. I was kind of drowsy and out of it. I though if I just ignored him and did nothing that he would leave me alone, so I (stupidly) let him do what he was doing. I hated it. I felt disgusted, but I was drowsy and dizzy and didn't feel like fighting. But he kept going. He tried to do the one thing that I told him that I specifically told him I didn't want. I spoke up. I told him to stop. He told me that he knew that I would like it once he started. He kept trying, but I started squirming. I found within me a strength I didn't know I had. I know it sounds cliche, but it is the only way to explain what happened. How else could I have pushed aside a 24o lb male? I pushed him away and ran to the bathroom and cried. Once I came out, I discovered he'd fallen asleep. I considered calling my parents but I didn't want them to know about all of the stupid decisions I'd made that led to me being drunk and alone in a condo with someone that I knew had the will and the strength to force himself on me.
After that night, I stuck with him because I was afraid that what I had allowed him to do, though it was not everything, was still enough to ruin me for other guys. I was afraid that people would know. And I figured that since he'd already done a little sampling, he might as well continue. Yes, I know-- yet ANOTHER bad decision on my part. But mostly I tried to make sure that we were never alone at his condo again so he never had the opportunity to take it all from me. I only spent time there when I knew that his best friend or my best friend would be there. The rest of the time we hung out at my parents' house or in public places. I couldn't risk another experience like that. I never drank around him again, either. (Yeah, I know-- DUH!)
Finally around month four, I got up the nerve to call it off for good. I didn't care if he hurt himself, and I think part of me had figured out that he was just emotionally manipulating me. I did it over the phone so I wouldn't back down when he started crying.
Now I'm sure you know this isn't the end of the story, since I still haven't gotten to what my dad did for me.
About two weeks after I broke up with boyfriend number one, I started seeing boyfriend number two. He was a friend and he was there and it was convenient. Not a good reason to date someone, but at least I knew something about him. I'd known him for four years, so I felt safe with him. About a week after I started seeing him, I also started seeing boyfriend #1's car appearing in all of the places that I was. When I was at work, I would see his car go by four or five times a day. He tried calling but I wouldn't talk to him. He drove by my house each day, too. He even knocked on my window a couple of times and when I saw it was him, I went to another room. He asked my best friend why I wouldn't talk to him. She told him that I really didn't like him because he had tried to force me to sleep with him. And he told her, "If I want to sleep with her, there's nothing she can do to stop me." When my friend told me about this, I got a bit freaked out since he was basically following me everywhere.
At this time my parents didn't know the slightest about what had happened during my relationship with boyfriend #1, but I think my dad knew that something not so good had happened. He didn't say anything, but he is pretty insightful... He knew that boyfriend #1 kept calling, because it was their phone, and I was refusing the calls. He knew that boyfriend #1 kept trying to see me at work, because I told my parents that part. One night about two weeks after that creepy, threat-like statement, I was out with my friend and boyfriend #2 was out with his friends. And boyfriend #1 calls my friend's cell phone and demands that she put me on the phone. She lies and tells him that she just dropped me off at home. He tells her that he just talked to my dad and he said that I was out with her. My dad had mistaken him for boyfriend #2 (they actually could sound quite similar on the phone) and told him that I was out with said friend. My friend lied again and told him that he must have JUST missed me. He called my parents house again and this time my dad recognized his voice. My dad told him that if he didn't stop calling that he was going to hunt him down and remove certain body parts that I would prefer not to mention. Now I know that violence is not the answer, and my dad also knows that. He would never actually commit the acts that he speaks of-- but for him to be angry enough to say it was enough. I never heard from boyfriend #1 again. The truth is, my dad can be quite scary when he is angry. I have only seen him TRULY angry twice in my life, and both times were in my defense-- so I can imagine what he sounded like on this occasion. Whether or not it was the right thing to do, it made me feel a little bit safe again when I thought I might never feel safe again. He protected me the way only a father can. And that is the best thing he ever did for me.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
A House is not a home...
But it certainly is a FABULOUS refuge. When I am down and feeling funky, I find great comfort in certain things. One of those things is reading. I've progressed past the reading stage and I am currently watching season one of House on DVD. I am aware that running to old episodes of House can never make me feel at home, at rest, but my brain and my emotions have checked out for the day, so this is what I am doing.
So, anyone out there who is a House fan, what is your favorite episode?
So, anyone out there who is a House fan, what is your favorite episode?
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Small Surprises
Recently I have had a few small and happy surprises in my life. I have been having a difficult time, but despite that, there have been some good things that have cropped up during all of it. Due to the recent use of bullet points by others, I will use numbers instead, just to be different. :)
1) A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail at work letting me know that there was an open position in claims. My manager encouraged me to apply and I interviewed with the claims manager about two weeks ago. During the interview, the claims manager told me that there were over 100 applicants for the position-- this pretty much left me thinking I had no chance. I mean, it's not a promotion, just a lateral transfer, but still, I know I don't interview well and so I assumed I would not be chosen. But last Thursday I found out I was chosen. So beginning June 23rd, I will be working in claims. NO MORE PHONES! YAY!
2) I have been developing a more meaningful friendship with somebody who has been my friend for years. She came back into my life at just the right time-- we both have very similar lives/issues/ concerns-- and that has brought us closer.
3) Okay, so maybe it's a good thing I didn't use bullet points... I can't remember what else I was going to say! It was a good day, I've had a bit of wine and I came home and decided to put a movie on. But when I went to look through my movies, I really felt like watching First Wives' Club, which resulted in me having to break into my VHS tapes. Oh well. I guess I should go to bed...
Good night and good luck!
1) A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail at work letting me know that there was an open position in claims. My manager encouraged me to apply and I interviewed with the claims manager about two weeks ago. During the interview, the claims manager told me that there were over 100 applicants for the position-- this pretty much left me thinking I had no chance. I mean, it's not a promotion, just a lateral transfer, but still, I know I don't interview well and so I assumed I would not be chosen. But last Thursday I found out I was chosen. So beginning June 23rd, I will be working in claims. NO MORE PHONES! YAY!
2) I have been developing a more meaningful friendship with somebody who has been my friend for years. She came back into my life at just the right time-- we both have very similar lives/issues/ concerns-- and that has brought us closer.
3) Okay, so maybe it's a good thing I didn't use bullet points... I can't remember what else I was going to say! It was a good day, I've had a bit of wine and I came home and decided to put a movie on. But when I went to look through my movies, I really felt like watching First Wives' Club, which resulted in me having to break into my VHS tapes. Oh well. I guess I should go to bed...
Good night and good luck!
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Just in Time
Today started out rough. I don't know why, it just did. I've been in one of those places where I am in no way satisfied with my life. I knew I was in a funk the minute I woke up, but there was nothing to do to stop it-- not yet. I got to church early hoping to talk to some friends, and I did. I thought it was enough to lift the funk. When worship started and everyone started arriving, I discovered that it had not been enough. When I watch all of the happy married couples and their newborn children, or even their toddlers, the response for me is not just emotional. I literally find myself having a physical pain inside as I watch all of the couples, many younger than me, arriving with their children. This is not about being single. This is about the children. I watch people beside me and in front of me looking adoringly at their infants and it hurts. It never used to be like this. It used to be that being around other people's children was enough to fill that need inside of me, but it's really not anymore. I'm sure I sound completely mental to all of the people who actually have children, but each year this has become more and more of a struggle for me.
At any rate, about that time as all of the families are streaming in, the worship team was playing "Your Grace is Enough." And I'm standing there being completely emotional because I want more than anything to believe that. My head completely comprehends it. I know it to be true. But at the same time I don't FEEL it to be true. Even though I KNOW that I have everything I need, I still FEEL this physical pain inside when I watch all of the families gathered around me. And then, there I am, crying like an idiot again-- standing there wondering to myself why I even bother leaving the house, why I don't just stay at home reading or watching television-- it would probably hurt less. It would mean nobody would have to see me crying like an idiot and I wouldn't have to try to put words to what I feel inside when somebody looks at me and knows that something isn't right. And I wouldn't have to listen to another person tell me, "It's alright, it will happen in God's time" rather than just being there. I don't need somebody to tell me the things I already know-- I just need someone to be with me and to allow me to be with them. I also don't need somebody to act like my hurt is irrational or somehow wrong. That would be like if a married person talked to me about problems with his/her marriage or kids and instead of listening and being supportive if I said, "You should be grateful for the family God has blessed you with." I'm sorry, but if somebody is hurting, no matter the reason, their hurts should not be seen as irrational or insignificant because that just deepens the hurt.
So this morning when I was thinking that I want nothing more than to have my heart know that His grace is enough, and I was crying (at this point only a little) because I am upset that I don't feel this in my heart and in comes the ultimate example that His grace truly is enough. I don't know if any of ya'll have a song that is beyond worship for you but is somehow restoring and fulfilling but I do. The song is "Amazing Love." I blogged about this a while back and you can read it here. In fact just reading over this old post has refreshed some insights that I needed to have refreshed-- and all because of that song. And the beautiful thing is that it was the song during communion today. What better time to have God nudge me right when I'm wondering why I even bother coming to church anymore-- why I even bother leaving the house. And then this song comes and fills me up and I'm instantly reminded of what my life was before Jesus. Before Jesus, I was afraid to let people see me cry-- I took to cutting myself instead because I was ashamed of my hurts, afraid to reveal to much of myself because people might use them against me later. This song is a life raft that always comes along, right when I feel I'm drowning. When I need it most, God throws it out there to pull be back in again.
And now I see that it is time to start living in the present again, rather than wondering what the future might hold. Why must I keep forgetting this VERY basic principle? How much simpler would my life be if my heart could always remember this?
At any rate, about that time as all of the families are streaming in, the worship team was playing "Your Grace is Enough." And I'm standing there being completely emotional because I want more than anything to believe that. My head completely comprehends it. I know it to be true. But at the same time I don't FEEL it to be true. Even though I KNOW that I have everything I need, I still FEEL this physical pain inside when I watch all of the families gathered around me. And then, there I am, crying like an idiot again-- standing there wondering to myself why I even bother leaving the house, why I don't just stay at home reading or watching television-- it would probably hurt less. It would mean nobody would have to see me crying like an idiot and I wouldn't have to try to put words to what I feel inside when somebody looks at me and knows that something isn't right. And I wouldn't have to listen to another person tell me, "It's alright, it will happen in God's time" rather than just being there. I don't need somebody to tell me the things I already know-- I just need someone to be with me and to allow me to be with them. I also don't need somebody to act like my hurt is irrational or somehow wrong. That would be like if a married person talked to me about problems with his/her marriage or kids and instead of listening and being supportive if I said, "You should be grateful for the family God has blessed you with." I'm sorry, but if somebody is hurting, no matter the reason, their hurts should not be seen as irrational or insignificant because that just deepens the hurt.
So this morning when I was thinking that I want nothing more than to have my heart know that His grace is enough, and I was crying (at this point only a little) because I am upset that I don't feel this in my heart and in comes the ultimate example that His grace truly is enough. I don't know if any of ya'll have a song that is beyond worship for you but is somehow restoring and fulfilling but I do. The song is "Amazing Love." I blogged about this a while back and you can read it here. In fact just reading over this old post has refreshed some insights that I needed to have refreshed-- and all because of that song. And the beautiful thing is that it was the song during communion today. What better time to have God nudge me right when I'm wondering why I even bother coming to church anymore-- why I even bother leaving the house. And then this song comes and fills me up and I'm instantly reminded of what my life was before Jesus. Before Jesus, I was afraid to let people see me cry-- I took to cutting myself instead because I was ashamed of my hurts, afraid to reveal to much of myself because people might use them against me later. This song is a life raft that always comes along, right when I feel I'm drowning. When I need it most, God throws it out there to pull be back in again.
And now I see that it is time to start living in the present again, rather than wondering what the future might hold. Why must I keep forgetting this VERY basic principle? How much simpler would my life be if my heart could always remember this?
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