Not what I expected

So, today was supposed to be the last day of school before the christmas holidays. It was not what I expected.

Today was supposed to be somewhat restful, comforting, peaceful.... It was not what I expected.

Today was painful. My kids are hurting and I realize that. I am hurting, for different reasons, but I realize that. I'm going to be honest, divorce is good and bad, but at the holidays???????

I got a call from the school, my son is hurting. I got an email earlier this week, my other son is hurting. I went to work last night... my daughter is hurting. But, this is life. All of the good things we have faced in the last year, all of the amazing blessings... they are somewhat diminished in the face of the pain of loss at the holidays. The kids are missing their family. I am missing my son. My daughter is missing her happy mom.

Yes, the holidays are difficult. I could listen to 1,000 men tell me I am beautiful and worth loving. I could hear 2,000 stories of how amazing I am and how wonderful my kids are... but, at the end of the day, we are here alone with our awesome, beautiful, amazingness. :)

I have not blogged in a while. I have not known what to say. How to explain what is happening in my head, in my heart? It is a confusing conundrum, a paradoxical paradox, I am happy. I know I made the right decision, I know I did the right thing. But, I look at my children... and how they are hurting. And, I hate it.

I wish that for today, I could make all the lines disappear from my oldest son's forehead. I wish I could make my youngest son's heart fee light. I wish I could erase the tears, and the years from my 3 year old daughter. But, I can't. Instead, I can focus on what God has given us... the blessings, the craziness, the laughter, the fun.

Tonight we are hurting. But, this is not the last night... and this is not the last song.

Let the tears flow...

October 28, 2009 my life changed forever. That is the day that my husband laid his hands on me violently for the very last time. I remember the day clearly. We were supposed to be leaving for the Fall Festival at our church. Tonight, he is taking the kids to the Fall Festival at that same church. It has been a year. Life looks so different now.

I sat down after the kids left to go with him tonight. I flipped through the channels and there was some channel that was playing christian music videos. I stopped and listened to a couple. Then a song by Nicole C. Mullens came on, One Touch. I almost flipped the channel, but I did not. I wish I was computer literate enough to know how to incorporate the Youtube versions of the song into this blog, but I am not. Instead, I will set the song up for you. I will say I could not find the music video version on Youtube yet. I did find versions of her singing the song. It is a beautiful song and of course, God knew, it was exactly what I needed today.

The video opens showing a street crowded with people, it gives us a snippet into their lives... and on each of their shirts or jacket is a word. The words range from  Forgotten, Rejected, Afraid, Unloved, Shame... to Addiction. It is a gamut of the issues that we face. As the song opens, she says...

Been ostracized for 12 years, I'm used to being alone. 

Spent everything I had, and now it's gone. 

I'm used to being put down, my issues tell it all. My only hope is anchored in this fall. 

If I could just touch the hem of his garment, I know I'd be made whole. 

If I could just press my way through this madness, his love would heal my soul

If only One touch. 

As I sat and listened to the song, at first I was just enjoying the message of the song. As she showed the snippets of video, one was a woman being abused by her husband. On her shirt were written the words SHAME. As I watched that woman walk through the street and then stop and reach up toward the sky... I began to cry. I am that woman. The rejection and fear and shame and brokenness, and alone-ness and all the rest of it... came bubbling up in my heart. I sit here in tears now... but, only because as the video continued the song says

 "and suddenly he turned around, and said, somebody has unleashed my power." 

I remember last year the confusion, the absolutely paralyzing fear. There is no way to describe the amount of fear, and yet knowing there is no other choice. You realize that this might be the one choice that completely does you in, and yet you know, this is the only choice left other than death. The whole fight or flight thing kicks in... You have to do this.

Over the last year, I have not failed. Through friends, family, the people that God surrounded me with kept me moving, and the very Heavenly Father that loves me. I am still surrounded. The danger is not over yet. But, I am each day getting stronger. I am less and less living in fear. More and more, I am ready for the next challenge. Yes, there are so many challenges... but, they are not as terrifying as they were. Each time that I make it through the next thing, I am getting one day closer to freedom.

Divorce does not provide freedom. It provides a measure of protection, but no freedom. My problems are not fixed by divorce, or even by what the law allows me. Where is the freedom? In His touch. My soul is healing. My heart is finding the freedom to speak out, to love, to feel, to cry, to question... but ultimately, my heart is getting stronger.

Why? Because, I reached out and touched the hem of his garment. He turned and looked at me. God looked down at me through His own tears, and He saw my sin, my pain, my weakness, and my need. Yet, He chose to press His way through my madness... and He chose to touch me. He is healing me. When no one else would touch me, when no one else would believe me... He said, I can make you whole. I can change you.

Today the tears flow. Tears of sorrow because I would have loved for our story to have a different ending. One that would have glorified God and His amazing ability to heal. But, my marriage is not what will be healed. Instead, I will focus on the God that has chosen to heal my heart. The God that has chosen to set me free from such immense pain and shame. Today tears of freedom flow... bittersweet tears, but, they are shed in freedom. I am no longer abused. I am no longer living in that shame. Today, I am becoming stronger. Today, my Father is touching me, His power is flowing in my life... and today I am a different person than I was. Yes, it has been painful and scary... but, I have not fallen apart. Today, I am stronger than I was a year ago. And, I am loved.

Life is the messy bits

My wildest dreams came true tonight... Yes, you heard me right... they came true. Tonight, while my boys wrestled upstairs, in fact two hours later, it still sounds like they might come through the ceiling any minute, despite repeated but ignored warnings to the contrary. While they did their best to dismantle my room, while watching football, my daughter and I had our first Girls Movie Night. My three year old snuggled up in the recliner, and I snuggled up in the other chair (have I mentioned that I am STILL making payments on my couch?) and we watched "Letters to Juliet" together. At one point she asked me why the lady was crying... did her mom or dad leave her... but that is a very different blog.

Anyway, as we watched this movie, that made me laugh and cry, there was a fabulous line that Vanessa Redgrave says... She says to her grandson, Charlie, "life is the messy bits." I fell in love with that line.

Life is the pain, the loss, the frustration, the fighting for what is worth fighting for... it is the mess.

This week I had to go to court again. I won. However, someone that understands more than I ever thought they would, figured it out. That person texted me this morning and said "It is bittersweet." Even though the Judge upheld what she had previously ordered... and even though she ordered. the person I faced in Court do the right thing... it was very bittersweet. I would give anything to not have to fight. I hate conflict. I hate broken relationships. It seems that they are all around me. I would so much rather get along, and just do the right thing for the sake of the children. But, this week, life was messy. I have been discouraged, I have been angry, I have been tired... I came close once again to giving up.

How does all of this work out biblically? Well, God said we would have trials and tribulation (trouble and mess). He promised that there would be difficulty, possibly persecution, and in some cases, even death... and yet, He promised to be with us in the midst of it all. Basically, "life is the messy bits, but I will help you with the clean up."

I had a conversation with my oldest son earlier this week... he said "Mom, the worst thing you can do right now is give up on your faith in God." I explained to him that I was not giving up on my faith, but I was talking to God about my anger and my disappointment. I told him, "It's the same as when I get angry with you, I am upset about what you did or did not do, I might even yell at you, but I NEVER, EVER stop loving you or give up on my relationship with you." God is like that. He can handle our honesty, our anger, our mess.

However, here is the amazing thing about the messy bits of life... without them we would not appreciate the beauty that we experience. As Claire, in the movie, realized... her love found was so much sweeter because of the love lost. The experience tonight with my daughter was so much sweeter because I had given up on ever having a daughter. And, her whole life has been so sweet because we all experienced the loss of her brother's life. The loss of my marriage and the husband that I wish I had married.... are real. But, one day, the sweetness of the right man, who loves me beyond measure will be that much sweeter. Let me just go out on a limb and tell you what else I have realized. The relationship I have with my Savior is made that much sweeter because I have had to wrestle through the fear, the pain, the desire to give up my beliefs. However, I have realized that He is true, He is real, He is here with me. He has not left me alone, He has not forgotten my children and I, and more than anything... HE SEES and HE CARES about the pain we are dealing with. Life is the messy bits.

So get out there, live out the dreams, face the despair, feel the loss, oh and don't forget to live the joy, the beauty, the love, and the gifts. It is so wonderful. Smile, feel the wind in your hair and realize you ARE LIVING. Thank God for the mess.

Worth Pursuing

I promised that I would explain the reason behind the name of this blog. I have not done so yet, so tonight I will take the time.

Early in my therapy my counselor encouraged me to begin to make a list of all the lies I had been told and had believed about myself. I started a list. Within an hour or so, I had come up with 50 lies that I had chosen to buy into about myself. There was one that I knew I had felt more than one person tell me. One weekend, my kids were visiting their father. I had some downtime, and was able to read my book, The Sacred Romance. In it there is a section in which John Eldredge discusses Arrows that we are wounded by that mainly come from the enemy of our souls. We were encouraged to journal about some of the Arrows that have wounded us in our past. So, I dutifully got out my journal, my pen, and sat there in silence and tried to think of the worst wounds. Almost immediately, that one lie came back to my mind. The lie, you ask? It was this...

YOU ARE NOT WORTH IT

I will share just a tiny portion of this part of my journal with you... This is from March, 2010. 

Arrows: 

1. You're not enough

2. You're not worth the effort or the sacrifice

3. I don't love you

4. You are not beautiful or captivating

5. I must take care of myself. 

These lies landed at the core of my soul. I have closed my heart to intimacy - I have allowed myself to become a sexual being with no strings attached (that is the only way to continue to have intimacy with the person that hurts you.) And yet, my heart had strings attached. I have not allowed myself to be beautiful on the inside - I have always kept a protective barrier. 

Yet on March, 13, 2010 I wrote these words... "My heart knows that I am made for noble and beautiful things. What are they?"

This was in early afternoon on a Saturday. I took the time to write out my thoughts a bit more, then I spent some time praying about this pain that I had bought into. Later that evening I was in a relaxed, soft place in my heart... just enjoying my day, my time alone and my time with God. I decided to sit down at my computer and check my emails. While there, as I often do, I put on my itunes and was going to shuffle my songs. As the consummate multitasker, I opened up my gmail, then I opened up my itunes. Looked at the emails, which ones look the most fun... open those first. Glance over at my itunes list, the genius bar thingy listed some songs that I might like based on music I had purchased. Start clicking on the emails I will automatically delete... realize that something on my Genius bar had caught my attention... look back. There it was. A song called "Worth Pursuing" by one of my favorite christian singers. Laura Rhinehart. I giggled a little, and then started to listen to the song, you know the 3 second blip that itunes gives you. Then I had to google the lyrics. Once again, God had spoken to my heart. I mean, like, in the way that only God can. The kind of speaking that is not loud, not earth shattering, but when you listen, you realize that He just completely rearranged your world and something inside you just shifted because you knew God had just touched it. I will post the lyrics for you. Let me just say, I am posting these without permission... hopefully God and Laura can forgive me. This song is written as if God were singing it to me directly. 

I saw you as a little girl and you were in this room, all alone

And you wanted to be found, but no one came to find you.

But this is your time now, this is your day

Cause that little girl inside of you is what makes my heart ache

You are my love, You're worth pursuing

You are my love, You're worth pursuing

I'm finding you right now, right now I am finding you.

 And I'm taking you by the hand and I'm leading you out - into a new place

And forever that place that kept you in, forever that place that held you in

forever that place, forever that place will be shut off

And you're not going to have fear anymore

You're not going to fear being alone anymore

You're not going to fear because it's being swallowed up in my love for you, in my passion for you

I'm so taken by you

And I'm going to restore all your years

I'm going to restore every tear

You will know my joy, You will know my smile

You will know my dance, cause I am going to show you off

I'm so proud of you, and it's time for you to know it

You're so beautiful to me, You're so beautiful to me

As I listened to this song, over and over (of course I bought it) I first laughed. It was absolutely delightful to get such a quick and strong message from my Father. But, just as suddenly, my laughter turned to tears. I realized that He had seen me, He had heard me. He had chosen to touch the deepest fear I had, the longest seated lie I had believed. For weeks, I listened to that song, just trying to absorb the message. 

This is something I am still trying to grapple with. I know, in my head, that I am worth loving, pursuing, that I am worth all of the beauty that God shows me, all of the grace, mercy, and gifts. Yet, my heart, still struggles not to believe the lie. I see it in practical ways. When I assume that every problem that comes up requires me to figure it out. I am choosing to believe that I can do it better than God. When I am hurting, and lonely, I tend to think it is because I am not lovable... and the truth is... I am loved. I am loved deeply, truly, by so many people. When I fall into the trap of not realizing that I am beautiful in my soul, I am choosing not to believe that I am worth seeing the beauty in me. 

My name is Beka, this is my journey. It will take time... it will take a lot of work, but, I will say this... I am finally worth it. And one day, I will know this in my heart as much as in my head. One day I will see that I am worth all the struggle, the fighting for healing... and one day, I will give my worthy heart to someone and I will see the worth inside of him. But, for today, I am worth it simply because I am made in the image of a heavenly creator. 

See me

This evening my son and I watched part of a movie that was on T.V. I do not remember the name of the movie, it was one of those teen movies... but, the premise was, the captain of the football team told girls whatever he thought they wanted to hear to get the girls to fall for him. So some of his past "loves" decide to make him suffer. There was a line in the movie where the girl that what"s-his-name ultimately fell for, is talking to her mom. Girl opens up to mom about her feelings... and says "I felt invisible for so long, I was willing to do anything for someone to see me, I changed who I really am." (If you know what movie I am quoting, please forgive me if I just butchered the whole thing).

How many times have you felt invisible? I have felt that way a lot (I wonder what I will be talking about in therapy tomorrow?) I felt that way through my marriage. With each act of abuse or word of degradation. When I managed to lose myself as a young mom. I have felt that way as a teenager. I was just not a pretty girl. I am so thankful that God has helped me "grow into my face" as one of my friends so lovingly put it. When I would watch other girls garner the attention from boys, peers, teachers... I felt invisible. It is a feeling that I am no stranger to at several stages in my life.

When do you feel invisible? How do you try to show that you exist? Is it your career? Your marriage? Your kids? Your volunteer activities? Your church involvement?

Do you allow yourself to be more sexual? Or do you try to hide your beauty because you wish you had been invisible but someone noticed you and hurt you? Do you act like you are tough and nothing bothers you? Or do you deny your feelings at all so that you don't make others feel uncomfortable? What part of the real you are you hiding? What ways do you act or behave that you know deep down are not really you... but you will do anything to have someone notice you and validate you?

I love Grey's Anatomy. I mean, I am one of those crazy follower types. There is a line from one of the earlier shows that I have never forgotten. Meredith looks at Derek as they are having a possible relationship-ending discussion. With complete vulnerability she looks at him and pleads... "See me - love me" She was pleading with him to not be invisible. She was pleading with him to look past the surface and see her soul, and find her beautiful and worth loving. It has not left my mind because it struck me so deeply. I feel like saying that sometimes. I wanted to say that to my husband. (I think I might have actually quoted it once in a discussion a year or so later). I want to say that even in certain situations now. Look at me, I am not just a statistic. I am not just a minority, I am not just a woman, or just a mom, or just a ______________ (you fill in the blank)

How do I combat this?  This is one of those issues that affects all of us. It affects our children. That is why it is important for me to examine this now. Besides my commitment to becoming a healthier person,  my kids need me to see them. They need to know that they are not invisible. Let's face it, how many times as a mom have your kids said "Mom, watch this." They are looking for the same validation and visibility that we as women and men are looking for. What do I need to come to grips with so that I can help my children realize they are noticed, and that they do not have to create an alternate persona just to be noticed by others. How do I let down my guards and my walls and my protections so that others can see the real me?

I don't have all the answers. I will be very honest about that part. I am still working through all of this in my mind. (Please see previous comment about tomorrow's therapy appointment).

Here is what I do know. I want people to know the real me. The only way someone can truly accept who I am, is if I have shown them who I really am. The real me... the quirky, the crazy, the funny, the deep, the thoughtful, the spiritual, all of the parts of me. I will continue to wonder if I am really accepted if I hide who I am. But, I also know this. God sees me. I am not invisible to Him. Honestly, this is something I have had to face over the last few months. I realized that there are so many moments in my life where I assumed that things were not going well, simply because God did not see me. But, that is not true. He created me just the way He wanted me to be. Yes, environment, genetics, and experiences shape us. But, the person that I am, the real me, that is who God made. He thinks I am beautiful. He sees my heart, my hurt, my hopes, my secrets, my shame, my lies, my truth, my dreams, my future. But, when He looks at me He does not see my brokenness. He sees that I am made perfect in Him, through what His son did on the cross for me. He allows the freedom, through that, for me to be exactly who He wants me to be.

Take a moment and answer some of the questions I have asked in this rather lengthy blog. I know I have been thinking about these things all evening. Yes, I still look at people to make me feel visible. Yes, I would love for a man to see me... love me. But, more than anything, I want to really, truly come to grips with the truth that God already sees me. I want to find the freedom from invisibility and be able to be me and be peaceful at the same time. I don't want to fear that I am not worth seeing, pursuing, loving. I want to be able to give love and acceptance to others out of the love and acceptance I have grasped.

My Passion

I do not routinely use this blog for my own personal soapbox, but I am going out on a limb today. I am going to be as blunt as I have ever been. So, strap on your seatbelts.... Here it comes. 

What are the acceptable limits for behavior between spouses and parents to children? What constitutes domestic violence? I absolutely promise I am not going to give you a full answer here... but I am going to do my best. 

Today I got a message from someone that told me her husband pulled his fist on their daughter. There is no way to describe what is happening in me right now. I will not even try. I will say, THAT IS NEVER, EVER ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR. There is no excuse, there is no justification, there is no grace to be applied. It does not happen. 

People, I have a child that is quickly approaching the teen years. I have looked at that same child and asked him where my child has gone to. He looked right back at me and said "I CHANGED." He is right, he has changed. I have another pre-teen. He rolls his eyes and sighs like the world is coming to an end just because I asked him to empty the dishwasher. My children (including the 3 year old) routinely talk back to me. It drives me bananas. They can be rude at times, disrespectful, ungodly to the nth degree. They can be embarrassing. I get phone calls from teachers telling me about inappropriate comments, bad grades, the whole gamut. That is just not one of my favorite parts of parenting. They are a pain in the neck sometimes. They take every ounce of patience I have at times. They push me to every known limit I have sometimes. Somedays I tell them at the end of the day that the only reason we all survived that day is because I want grandchildren. THE TRUTH, that is borderline threatening and intimidating talk. We have all been there as parents. But, as bad as they can be there is NEVER EVER a reason for me to strike my child in anger. I am even going to go out on a limb here and say that slapping a child in the face IS ABUSE. When my children were babies I instituted a rule with their father, because I was afraid of his anger. I will say, for all the pain he caused me, he abided by this rule that I set. This is it, when it comes to discipline we have a set pattern. 

1. We do not discipline right away until we are calm and have given full explanation to the child. 

2.  Even if there is to be a spanking we tell the child how many strikes they will receive with the paddle. It is never more than 5. 

3. Each strike is given one at a time and with warning. The child has a chance to regroup between each strike. Now, I will say that the average is 2-3 strikes with the wooden spoon. I NEVER SPANK MY CHILDREN WITH MY HAND. For me, it is about letting my hands be instruments of love. 

4. There is an explanation of why the discipline is enforced at the beginning. At the end, there is instruction on how the behavior is expected to change. This is followed up by a conversation in which love is reassured. Comfort is given. Broken bridges are restored. AND IT ALL ENDS WITH A HUG.

I do not say this to say that every family needs to do it this way. But, this is the way that my family has been able to obey the line between discipline and not disciplining in anger. At the same time, a spanking is the absolute last resort. There are so many things I can do before that. I can give time outs to my three year old. I can take privileges away from my older children. They can flat out go to their rooms if necessary. But, there is never, ever an excuse for a parent to pull a fist, use an open hand to slap, or in any other way physically harm a child in anger. 

CONSEQUENTLY, there is never, ever a reason for a husband to hit his wife or use any form of physical harm. EVER. It just is not ever necessary. (And in the rare circumstance, for a wife to hit her husband). 

If your husband hits you, pulls a fist on you but stops short and then says "I could have but I didn't," IT IS ABUSE. If the stand over you and make you afraid, IT IS ABUSE. If they throw items at you, near you, wipe stuff off counters, or tear up any of your personal property, IT IS ABUSE. If your spouse or significant other slaps, hits, spits, bites, chokes, kicks, grabs, twists, trips, restrains or pulls any form of weapon on you, IT IS ABUSE. 

If you have faced or are facing this situation as the victim  what do you do? YOU TALK TO SOMEONE RIGHT NOW. Email me, talk to a friend or family member. Talk to your pastor. And if they brush you off or minimize your pain or fear, talk to someone else. 

If you are the parent or the abuser, TALK TO SOMEONE. You are losing control of yourself, and IT MUST STOP. You are the only one that can get the help you need to confront the anger, rage, and pain inside of you. There are people to help, and you do not have to stay stuck in that angry place. 

I will close with this.... What does real love look like? What does it mean to say "I love you" to your spouse, partner or significant other, mother, father, sister, brother or child? 

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud 5or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. 6It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. 7Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7 (New Living Translation) 

Now, for the person that reads this and has been hurt and only sees v. 7 and feels that they have some responsibility to live that verse out? That is wrong thinking. I did it, I fell for it, I believed it. But you have the right to demand that kind of love and you have the responsibility to give that kind of love.... from a distance if you have to. BUT, you never, ever have to be hurt in any physical way. GOD IS NOT ASKING THAT FROM YOU. That is not love. IT IS ABUSE. 

Still standing

Right now I am listening to a song called "Keep Breathing" by Kerrie Roberts. It is a good song. That is where this title of this blog popped in my head, I am pretty sure. :)

I am going to speak directly to the abused woman now. This blog might help others... but this is a specific message to the woman that is thinking about leaving. Are you wondering if it will be worth it? Do you think about how to face what life might look like if you leave? Are you afraid that you can't handle it? What is your biggest fear? Name it. Say it out loud.

Let me tell you the truth. It is going to be hard. Leaving is hard, surviving is hard, healing is hard. But, it is worth it. There are days that you will feel like you might drown under the strain. There will be days that you feel such unparalleled joy and life and passion that you want to cry from the beauty.

I am going through such a time right now. From moment to moment it seems that I am facing both extremes. My abuser is working really hard to make my life a living hell.... he did that all through our marriage. Each time he amped up the pressure I would eventually buckle. I knew that if I did not, there would be punishment that was not worth continuing to stand up to him. So, in my weakness, or in my giving up, or in my survival, I would eventually buckle. I would accept his point of view, give up my fight for what I wanted, needed or believed. This time though... this time I am not backing down. I had to have an emergency session with my therapist today. WHY? Because I am in unchartered territory and I don't know what to expect. The pressure has been pretty intense. But, each time he pushes, and expects me to give up, back down... lay down the fight, I am choosing not to. I have another court hearing in October. I do not want to have to deal with this, it is tiresome, annoying, anything but pleasurable. But I am not willing to lay down the fight. I am not fighting for myself. I am fighting because my kids need to know they are worth fighting for. They need to see that no one has to give up and let someone else call the shots. The financial pressure we have been facing in these last few months could have been avoided. That is what I found out yesterday. He has chosen to punish me financially. BUT, I will not let him get away with his bullying. We are worth it.

This is the other side of the coin. You are not alone. My friends, my family, my lawyer, my therapist, and my God are standing with me. My electricity did not get shut off because someone loved me and my children that much. My lawyer is going to bat for me because he sees the truth. My family and my friends keep me standing. They make me laugh when I want to cry. My therapist keeps me living in reality. She gives me the tools I need to continue to stand. And when, at the end of the day, I am alone... and I think that I am to weak, God is there with me. He whispers the truth.

So, when I said that there are the tough times and the good times... what did I mean?

I have a job I love. I am so proud of myself for making a goal, pursuing it, and doing a good job. I have people around me that make my life so amazing. I have children that keep me laughing (and cause a few gray hairs). These children are amazing in their capacity to live life. And, the coolest part... dreams that I have had for years, things I have wanted to accomplish, but it just never worked out... are almost falling into my lap now.

I have shared the story of losing my son. This week I received an email from my old bible study leader (she is not old, just we have moved on from that bible study... ) and she forwarded me some information that made her think of me... something she thought I might want to be involved in. It is a support group that is forming here in Gainesville to reach out to families that have lost babies... They are just starting, and they need volunteers. Guess what? I am going to get involved. I am so excited. I don't know right now how I will be involved, or what they need from me. I will know more tomorrow. This I do know, I understand that pain and that loss, I have a lot of compassion to give in this area, and now, it will be put to use.

So, if you are thinking about leaving your abusive situation. If you are wondering what life will look like when the dust settles? Well, I can't tell you that, the dust has not settled yet. But, I can tell you this. There are highs and lows, there is excitement and fear. There will be tears and laughter. But, it is always worth it. You might lose somethings. I lost material comfort. I lost "status." I lost some of the things that society tells us we need. However, I also lost degradation, violence, insecurity. I found freedom, life, laughter, love. I even found a messy house. (Not always). I found wisdom, my ability to breathe life in and out, my joy, my tears... I found my ability to feel. The secret dreams that I have had, that I did not tell anyone about, that even my husband never cared to know about, they are happening. So, face your fears, say it out loud, but speak out your dreams. List all of the secret things you want to do with your life, with your brain, with your heart or your hands. It is not to late. Your life is not over. You are not destined to live unfulfilled.

I am not years down the road, I do not know what our life will look like even a year from now. I do know one thing though. I am finally living with no regrets. And that my dear, is worth everything.

A New Day...

I went yesterday for my new hire physical at the hospital. To explain how excited I am is almost impossible to put into words. But, of course, I will try. ;)

When I met my abuser I was working in a hospital and in college. I worked full time, took a full time load of classes, and still managed to be involved in extra curricular classes. Don't ask me how, I don't remember. I must not have slept much. I was a good employee, I loved my job, my co workers, (for those of you who do not know me, I have a tendency to make really great friendships every where I go.) I was 20 hours short of graduating from college. I started dating the man I married. Somehow, slowly, things changed. I was still a good employee, but, he began to criticize my co workers, or question whether or not I was being faithful. One time he came to the hospital to see me, and happened to see a guy that he thought was flirting with me. He challenged him, and they almost got in a fight. The change happened so gradually, but I began to limit myself, I changed my behavior so that I could not possibly be perceived as flirting with anyone. I was less trusting of my friends, co-workers, roommates, etc. That is one thing that abusers do, they create a mentality of "it's us against them". We got married, moved to Florida, I never graduated. Yes, I was promised that I could finish, but, there was never money, or then we had children, or.... the list goes on.

I had jobs during our marriage. And yet, at each one, I was never able to fully enjoy myself. There was always a criticism of my faithfulness. So with each question of faithfulness I would become even more careful of my behavior around men. Then there was the criticism that I spent to much time focused on work, and was not meeting his needs. So, I redoubled my efforts to be more balanced in attending to his needs. I would challenge him at times and point out that he was not supportive, or that he was putting to much pressure on me. That got me nowhere. As the pressure mounted at home, my work suffered. I hate to admit this,  but, I did not give my best to my employers because the verbal and emotional abuse would intensify. I am ashamed now that I dishonored myself by not being able to be the employee I could have been. But, it is the truth and I am facing the truth. I ended up leaving every job when I could no longer take the pressure and he would tell me that I could stay home and just be a mom. Now, I love being a mom, I always wanted to be able to stay home with my children. That is my most important job. So, on the one hand, I am very thankful that I did have the opportunity to be a stay at home mom for the most part. Yet, I never felt comfortable with the control. I hated being dependent on him financially. I hated that I could not spend money unless it was at the grocery store without a tongue lashing. That is another part of the cycle of abuse. Make your victim dependent on you for finances, limit their relationships so that they depend on you for their relational needs, then criticize them for being to needy. It is a vicious cycle.

Fast forward to today... and my excitement. For 14 years I was told I had no ambition, I was lazy, that I was a sloth. However, I now realize that was just more of the lie. The truth is, I have a dream and a plan. I want to go to nursing school. I know I will love being a nurse and giving to other people. To be able to go to nursing school, I wanted to get a job at the hospital because they have scholarships that will help pay for nursing school. SO, I have worked, and prayed, and networked. With the help of my amazing friends, I have interviewed at hospitals near and far. But, I wanted to work at the hospital near me. I interviewed with one woman and she gave me great advice on being more forward about my intention to go to nursing school. My hairdresser talked to some of her clients and they said "just keep calling HR", so I did. My girlfriends said "call and talk to the manager of my department" so I did. And, through it all.... God opened doors and closed others. Now, I am going to start working at the hospital. My plan is happening. My dream is going to come true. I am not doing this alone, God is definitely going before me. For one position that they advertise at the hospital, they will have over 300 applicants. It is not easy to get a job there. I have been trying for years. But, God, in His infinite wisdom and timing, has allowed the right doors to open at the time when I needed them to.

Here is the part I am most excited about. I will get to give my best to my employer, my co workers, the people that I come into contact with. I have begun to realize the extent of the lies... and now I realize, I just have to be who I am. There is nothing wrong with me (well except for the fact that I am human, and that is exactly how I am supposed to be). I will still be able to be a mom to my children. I will work 12 hour shifts in the middle of the night. I will go to school during the day, I will still try and be available to my kids. Yes, the next couple of years are going to be tough, and exhausting. No one said it would be easy. But, I can do this. I am a hard worker, I am not afraid. I am thrilled beyond belief to be able to start back over. It is ironic that I am going to be back in the same environment where so much of my life got sidetracked. But, this time, I have learned valuable lessons, and I am still learning. This time, I will stay on track. This time, I will use the sense God gave me. And for the first time in 16 years, I will give my best to my employer when I am at work, I will give my best to my kids when I am at home. I will give my best to my classes when they start. It will take a lot of living in the moment, but I am pretty good at that. The truth is, I am thrilled beyond belief because my life is not over. My dreams that I had given up on, and stuffed way down deep, they are alive. The reality is, my biggest fear before leaving him was that I could not do this. But, the truth is... I AM DOING THIS. Real living, you know the kind of living that is messy, sweet, beautiful, disastrous, painful, difficult, full of joy... you know that kind of living... it feels great.

Journal entry 7/29/2010

I finally stopped this week to listen. I also stopped to face myself. I will pick up part of this journal entry half way through. Now, before you ask why I post something this personal... I will tell you. It is because this is what women are saying. This is what a woman with a broken heart is choosing to believe about herself. It is not just me. I share this so that any woman that is feeling this pain realizes YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

Journal Entry

My heart cries out for love. My deepest desire is to be loved. To be accepted. I want a man that thinks I am beautiful, even early in the morning. I want someone to love me tenderly and strongly. Someone that thinks I am worth pursuing. Why do I not believe You, God, want that for me too? Why do I not believe that you can bring beautiful love into my life?

The truth is I don't want to face the pain. I don't want to feel the ache. I don't want to lean into the hurt until the healing comes. I want the healing to be instantaneous. I don't want to be alone or lonely. I don't want to hurt. Can't you make it stop Lord?

I want to keep moving. Keep letting my body, my smile, my face attract a man... anything to keep from feeling alone. That is what I have felt all my life. ALONE. From the time I was in the hospital...was it before that too?

There is a panic that sets in when I feel the aloneness. Fear, panic and the need to stay busy. The urge to fill every second, every quiet space. Ignore the quiet, run from the thoughts, don't face the fear, what if it never stops? What if I am alone? What if there is no one to love me, what if no one sees my value? What are your plans God? What am  I really worth? I don't think I'm worth much. I don't think You really truly, gently love me.

Speak to me God.

The truth is, You do love me this way. You think I am beautiful. Even when my eyes are swollen from crying, my nose is running, my skin is blotchy. You see my worth, even more than I do. You want to love me tenderly and gently and strongly. So, is it me I am running from? Is it You? Is it my lack of trust in You? You sing songs over me and you want to dance with me. You want me to be loved. You want my heart to soar and ache from the beauty of the love You bring. You want my tears to be tears of happiness as much as anything else. Love me Father.

Oh, the fun to be had...

Okay, not really. There is no fun to be had when recovering from a relationship like the one I left. Let me tell you what has happened this week.

Years ago I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder related to the abuse in my marriage. At that point, I suffered severe anxiety attacks, flashbacks, all kinds of yuck. To be honest, I never once considered that what I was dealing with was that severe. That is the weird thing that happens. When I was in it, experiencing it, the mental and emotional and verbal abuse have already taken their toll and I truly did not realize the severity of the abuse, in any of its forms. (I am now learning that this is common amongst other women in this situation as well) I found myself blaming myself (as he would blame me) for not having a better attitude, not being more submissive, more agreeable, more loving, a better housekeeper, ... you name it, I thought it. And each time that there was a really bad episode, I would rationalize it away in that manner, thereby avoiding facing the reality of what was happening. Anyway, over the years, medicine and therapy and Jesus helped me deal with the anxiety, the more distance I got from the episodes of violence, the less the flashbacks happened. A flashback is when you go back to that moment, and you are reliving it like it was happening to you all over again. You can see everything that happened, everything around you, as if it were happening right that second.

Over the years, as I stated, I have gotten a lot better. I still see that there are some things that will affect me. I am still hyper aware of my surroundings, and very tuned in to the moods, actions and reactions of people I am with. I notice every narrowing of the eye, almost imperceptible movement of the body, sighs, anything that could possibly indicate a change in mood or level of contentment that I would need to be aware of. I also have a real problem not freaking out beyond belief if someone walks up behind me and catches me off guard. My kids try their hardest to sneak up on me, they try so hard to scare me... what they don't realize is why it is almost impossible to scare me. It is because over the years I became conditioned to notice every detail, to anticipate any possible change that could warn me of something bad happening. Anyway, these are the little things I still notice that have an affect on me, even now.

Today I learned that there is something else I have experienced. I had my weekly therapy appointment. I was discussing something that happened this week that had affected me a great deal. Apparently I do not have quite the poker face I thought I did, because sometimes my therapist will say "What did you just feel?" Well, the answer to the question today was "FEAR." I don't mean the kind of fear that is a passing thought, or an anticipation of something bad. I mean the fear that makes your heart race, your body flush, and complete and utter breathlessness take over. As I talked about that, I told her that last week I had picked up a novel, it was supposed to be light reading for me, just to take my mind off all the other heavier books I have been working on as part of my recovery. There was absolutely nothing in the foreword, the jacket cover, any place to let me know that this book would in any way address domestic violence. BUT, it did. Boy howdy, did it ever. As I was reading, I was very interested, but I could feel my stress level rising just a bit. However, I thought, I can read this... it is okay. Then, as I got to one scene, it described so accurately not just the way an episode of physical violence might happen... but, they described the thoughts that went through the victim's head at that moment. As I was reading, I was transported back to that place. I felt those same feelings, I remembered having almost identical thoughts. As I was reading, I ended up having an anxiety attack. I have not had one of those in several months. I had to put the book down, get dressed and leave the house, take a break and the next day was able to come back and resume reading the book. Turns out, what I had was a "trigger." Not the same as a flashback. Instead of the added dimension of actually reliving the whole abuse episode,  a trigger just takes you back to the feelings, emotions, fear of that moment.

So, why am I telling you all this? Because, it happens. This is part of my recovery. I am learning to identify what is happening. It is a normal part of the healing process. It does not mean that I am losing my mind, that I am stuck in the past, that I am unwilling to forgive. It means that my body, my brain, my soul suffered a great deal of trauma. The healing of that trauma is going to take time, and there is going to be a process. I can't minimize what happened to me, I can't downplay what I felt. I don't have to get stuck there. Thank God. I can move on, I can take each memory, and one by one, submit them to my Savior, ask Him to help me move past that memory. It will not erase the memory, but, in time, it will lessen the pain and the impact.

One day, I am going to be completely whole in mind, body and spirit. I am going to be able to remember the episodes but, I will not be affected by them in they way that I am right now.

I will tell you a secret, one day, I really hope that my husband (you know, the wonderful man that is going to come along some day) can walk up behind me, and I will never hear him, because I will be lost in my own little world... and when he puts his arms around me, instead of panicking... I will simply relax in his arms. I will smile and know that I can trust him, that he would never mean to harm me. One day, God is going to give me that kind of healing. AND THAT WILL BE AMAZING.

Surviving Owen - Part 3

After letting Owen go, I spent the next 24 hours in the hospital. Grief counselors, lactation nurses (to tell me how to let my milk dry up) anyone that could try and help came to talk to me. Family, pastors from church, friends... it is all a blur now. All I wanted to do was go home and yet, I did not want to leave the hospital, because that was where I had held my son. I knew that going home without the baby I came in to deliver would be devastating. I was right. We cried as we drove back to our apartment. The next few days were a blur as well. Someone had come and cleaned my house for me... family started coming in for the funeral, people brought meals, played with the boys, tried to help bring some normalcy. Flowers were delivered, money was donated, a burial plot was chosen and my grandfather was kind enough to pay for it. We had no money at that point in our lives and somehow what we needed was taken care of.   The day before the funeral my hair dresser and another friend treated me to a day of pampering. They treated me to a hair cut and color, a manicure and pedicure, a massage, they picked out dresses, shoes and jewelry for me to wear to the funeral... it was such a gift that helped me face the next day. I could not think straight coherent thoughts. I would forget what I was saying in the middle of a sentence. But, love was poured out all around my little family. 

Each night though, I went to bed sobbing. I sobbed in the shower, I sobbed on the couch, I sobbed on the stairs. I would wake up in the morning with tears rolling down my cheeks even while I was sleeping. The pain felt unbearable at times. I remember reading a poem by another mother who had gone through this (the hospital did an amazing job at providing materials to help us think and prepare and ultimately start to grieve). In this poem, the mother talked about standing in the shower and her breasts would she tears of white... It wasn't until I was experiencing that cold reality that I realized that my whole body was grieving the loss of my son. 

The morning of the funeral I put on a CD and listened to one song that had become very special to me during the time of separation, when I had to face that my marriage had changed because of other people's choices. The song title is Held by Natalie Grant. The chorus says

This is what it means to be held

How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life

And you survive

This is what it is to be loved and to know

That the promise was when everything fell

We'd be held

I clung to that song, and the promise that somehow God was going to hold me through this. Everything sacred had been torn from my life, my heart, my arms. That morning I asked God to hold me... because I could not stand. On the way to the funeral Owen's father and I, through our tears, sang another song that we had learned in church.  "I Call Your Name" by Ricardo Sanchez. The only words we could remember that day were "I call your name, Lord you reply. You send your kingdom to stand by my side" so we sang that line over and over. Trying desperately to hold on the promise that we were not alone in this grief, that He had promised not to leave us. There were over 30 people at his funeral that day. I was shocked, but so grateful that people we barely knew came and stood with us at the worst moment of our lives. We had only lived in Gainesville for a little over a year. 

As the days, weeks, months began to pass and the hard work of grieving started, I hated it. I got angry, I yelled, I screamed, I cried. I comforted, I prayed, I continued to worship, and I talked (because frankly, that is what I do best). I went through a stage of being absolutely terrified to cry and to feel the pain of his death. I was afraid that I would never be whole again, that I would never stop crying. But as I did keep walking through it, God brought peace, comfort, healing... it was very, very slow... but, the healing came. 

A couple of months later, I was introduced to another couple who's son had just been delivered stillborn. Shae and I comforted each other. Down the road, I would meet others, I would pray with women who were in labor with a child that they had yet to deliver but they already knew that child was dead.  God allowed me to share with them and they were comforted. Strangely though, I did not feel like that was the purpose God had for little Owen's life. I knew that there was a purpose because I am promised that in Jeremiah. After Owen's death, I was reminded of that verse in 29:11 that says I know the plans I have for you..." As I struggled with God about why... He simply reminded me that He had a plan even for Owen's short life. 

I did lose over a year of my life grieving. Sadly, what had been designed to bring a couple closer (having a child) began to tear my marriage apart. As we each grieved in our own way, and on our own... as we got further and further apart... everything that had been bad about our marriage before rose to the surface. Within a matter of months, anything good that had happened in our reconciliation was undone. The choices we made to isolate from each other in our grieving gave way to other choices in our marriage that would ultimately completely end us. 

It has been four years since my precious baby was born. I did not die with him. I did survive the pain and the grief. It was painful beyond description, there were days when I thought it was going to be more than I could bear... but it wasn't. Eventually, healing came. I can now think of Owen, talk about him, miss him, love him.... and be so incredibly happy that I will see him someday in heaven.  I walked through the pain and the grief and came out on the other side. And, about 16 months later I was blessed with another child being placed in my arms. This child was also a miracle. She was a gift from God and although she will never replace Owen, she is a sweet reminder that good things still happen, even after all that is horrid. 

When the day came last year, that the man I was married to laid his hands on me for the last time in anger... as I faced what I knew I had to do... I realized that I had survived so much worse. I had survived the splitting of my heart. I had lived through the death of my son. And not once had God left me. Not once had I had to do it alone. I knew that day in October of 2009, that what had happened in 2006 had left me with the strength I needed to walk out of the marriage that was destroying me. And not once have I been alone on this journey. Not once has God left me. Not once have I looked back, because I have already Survived Owen. 

Surviving Owen - Part 2

That night as I entered the hospital the thoughts that went through my head were so willy nilly, so completely foreign, and I still felt like I was a totally different person. I am assuming that this is what people mean when they talk about an out of body experience. I just felt so divorced from the reality that it was me experiencing all of this. The nursing staff was so incredibly sweet. I was surrounded by an amazing sense of stillness. As the nurse that would take care of me that night started talking about what would happen (followed by a bajillion more questions that I had to make decisions about), and as she told me of the process that we would go through emotionally I remember saying... "just tell me what to do, what are the best things to do so that somehow I come of out of this emotionally healthy." I had seen so many people go through a traumatic experience like this and get stuck. I was terrified of that happening. I remember she was so kind as she said "You make the decisions that you can handle today, and you try to think of the things that you don't want to regret not doing." That my dear friends is a pretty tall order for someone who's life has just been devastated. But, as she talked me through, as she told me what other people had done or had regretted not doing, it helped me begin to decide how I wanted to proceed.

They started labor... the nurse asked me if I wanted an epidural. I said no. All I could think in my head was if I could feel the pain of this labor maybe it would somehow lessen the pain from my heart.... and I can bear it somehow. I laugh now.... only because when the first real labor pains hit, I begged for an epidural and got one. There was no way that the pain in my body was going to take the pain from my heart. At some point that night everything I had learned about grieving in my Death and Dying class in college started coming back to me. I remember saying to God... I am going to lose so much time dealing with this. Now, to be honest, I am to this day not sure what it was I felt like I was going to lose time from.... but, I knew I was going on an unplanned side trip from life for the next year at least. I remember thinking "How do I deal with this, and help my boys deal with this?" "How do I keep moving forward, because they need me to?" "God, right now I don't even think I can breathe." To say that in a situation like that your brian becomes a quicksand of random, irrational thoughts is the biggest understatement I have ever made.

As labor progressed I became violently ill. It was a long night. Early Tuesday morning, April 18, 2006 I threw up violently and during that time gave birth to my son. At first it was just my husband and I in the room. He was holding the trash can while I threw up. I thought that my catheter had come out. He went to get the nurse, and she realized that it was more than my catheter. As other nurses and a doctor came in (it was the on call doctor, my sweet doctor had taken his vacation that week) and all the normal pandemonium that ensues during a delivery came with it. There were points that were so normal, I had been in labor and delivered two healthy baby boys before. I knew what my body does, I knew what came next... and yet, this was such a monumentally different experience. I remember that I had struggled all night with can I look at my son or not. Can I hold him? Will I freak out? Will I cry? What will he look like, feel like, smell like... can I handle this? I had not been able to make that decision in my heart. I was terrified. The nurse kept saying "He is beautiful" and at that moment I knew I had to hold my sweet baby. As they placed him in my arms, he was indeed beautiful. He looked like he was asleep and was the spitting image of his older brother, Curt.  All 2 lb. 15 oz of him was perfect. My sweet Owen Luke, the child that I was sure was a surprise gift from God sent to help our family focus on the positive, good things in life... and help us move forward from all the brokenness... was in my arms, but he was not alive.

We spent four hours with him. Owen's father and my mother bathed his little body and the nurse brought us some special little outfits that volunteers crotchet for mothers and babies that have gone through this. We dressed him, wrapped him in a blanket and held him. We took pictures with him (thank God for my sister who took pictures through her tears.) I made the decision to not let my boys see him or hold him as I was afraid it would be more than they could handle. I thank God now for those precious pictures. We all have those as a reminder of the child we no longer can see.

Finally, the time came for him to go to the morgue. And that is when my heart shattered completely. As I write this I have tears in my eyes... because letting him go and not being able to go with him was the hardest thing I have ever had to do... followed closely by having to actually bury his little body in the ground. In Part 3 I am going to tell you how surviving Owen's death gave me the strength that I would need years later to make another very difficult decision in my life.

Surviving Owen - Part 1

One day I was on the phone with a girlfriend who had left an abusive marriage years before. She asked me what finally made the difference that I was able to follow through on leaving for good this time (because women who have lived through this realize that most of the time, you try to leave several times.) I told her it was after surviving Owen. Now she knew the story of Owen, and was able to grasp that. However, I think I will share the story with you today.

I have already mentioned that my husband and I had separated at least once before. We actually separated twice. The second separation, following my move to Georgia,  was the longest. However, he said he went through some intensive counseling and ultimately, for the sake of the children, I decided to give it one more shot. A few months later, a Z-pak that I took for bronchitis apparently interrupted the effectiveness of my birth control. Much to my shock, I got pregnant. However, as one does with the the curveballs of life, we adapted. Now, let me say, that in these few months before I got pregnant and the 8 months of my pregnancy were some of the happiest days of my life. Our marriage was as good as it had ever been and I was convinced that things had really changed. We embraced the idea of having a child, that everyone was sure would be a girl. He wasn't... as sure as shooting that sweet baby was a boy. After a couple of weeks of adjusting to the idea of having three boys in the house I was ready to handle it. Yes, I would miss out on having a daughter, but, I knew what to do with boys... and they always love their mama, right? Owen was an active baby... he loved music. In the way that only a pregnant woman can know her unborn child, I felt like he was going to be a child of laughter. Our whole little family got excited about this child that was being born out of reconciliation. 

On Easter Sunday, April 16, 2006 I was 30 or 32 weeks pregnant (I forget which now)... he was due in a few weeks... I looked great, I felt great... my mom and some friends were planning a shower a couple of weeks later. I had clothes for him, his little bed, I had painted his crib white, it was all coming together. That easter Sunday, we had a busy day of church, a picnic, and just enjoying a spring day. At some point I realized I had not felt him move that day. Honestly though, I did not think to much about it. I drank a little orange juice, rested, and just chalked it up to a busy day and he was getting bigger and maybe running out of some room. The next morning I remember telling Owen's daddy that I was going to just call the doctor, but I was sure it was no big deal. He agreed. Around lunch time I finally got around to making the phone call to the doctor's office. The nurse on the other end of the phone told me that I needed to come in right away. I did not quite have the sense of urgency she had.... and said I would try. I remember she said, you should have called before now, you need to come in as soon as possible. I made arrangements for the class I was substitute teaching in to be taken care of. I went to the doctor's office and I remember thinking, there is nothing that can happen. The most that they will do is possibly put me on bed rest. In every other physical sense, I was in perfect health.

The first thing the nurse did was check for a heart beat. It was not there. She did that thing they do, you know, "oh, this doppler has been giving us fits, let me get another one"... she brings in another nurse who can "hear better than I can." Nothing. At this point, they leave me alone for a couple of minutes to go get someone else. In that two minutes my world changed forever. I knew that there would be no heartbeat. I remember laying there on the table, looking up at the ceiling and the only thought I could formulate was "God, you knew... this is not a surprise to You. You have to get me through this. I cannot do this." And then I went numb. There was an ultrasound. The technician was quiet. I looked as she looked. She was so patient. Finally, I said the words that no one wanted to say out loud. I said "There's no heartbeat is there?" She said no and finished up the ultrasound. At that point, the nurse called my husband and my parents. All she told them on the phone was to come to the doctor's office. I called my best friend in Hawaii to tell her. Even as I said the words I felt like I was someone else. I surely was not living this experience. Debbie had all kinds of questions... what happens now was the biggest one. I asked the nurse and they told me that they would have to induce. I shut down again. There was no way I could digest the information. I would cry for a few minutes, then I would go numb again. Suddenly I was being asked questions that I had no idea how to answer. Questions I had never considered. Do you have a funeral home? Do you want a funeral or cremation? Do you want to be induced or wait until you go into labor naturally? All of the sudden I had to think about things that no mother should ever have to think about.

Finally my family showed up. My dad wanted them to do another ultrasound. I think it was so good that the office staff was so helpful. It enabled my family to see the reality I had already seen. There truly was no heartbeat. I remember at one point my husband grabbed my hand and looked at me and said "Praise Comes First." I appreciated that reminder. I knew that although I did not understand why this was happening to me, at this time in my life, under these circumstances.... I was not going to turn away from the God who could comfort me, and no matter what happened in my life... I would not stop from turning to Him.

We went home. We had to tell our sons that their baby brother had died. My heart broke for the children that I wanted so desperately to comfort. I wanted to keep pain from their hearts... and yet, it was unavoidable. I could not stop this for them. I asked their dad to stay with the boys that night since I could not be with them and my mom and I went to the hospital. I remember asking God to somehow split me in two (hey, nobody said you have to think rational thoughts in a time like this.) I knew that I had to start the process of delivering the son that I could not watch grow up, and yet, I wanted to hold my sweet babies and protect them from pain. I could not protect any of us from this pain. I could not stop this pain. I was helpless. 

A Realization

I was able to spend the last week with my best friend. We have been friends for 14 years. We became friends shortly after I got married and have been close ever since. We have walked with each other through marriage issues, pregnancy, losing children, parent issues (both ours as parents and our parents as parents), depression, anxiety, and pure joy. We have experienced life together for the last 14 years, although for the last 12 we have done it with daily phone calls and once a year visits with each other. I have been thinking about relationships, friendships, all of the blessings that we have when we have friends.

Then I started reading a book two days ago. It is called Healing Waters by Nancy Rue and Stephen Arterburn. I highly recommend it both as a good read, and as a thought provoking book as well. Two issues came up for me... 1. On Wednesday my therapist pointed out that up to this point we have been helping me survive the process of my divorce. But, she said now is the time to start digging deeper. I am scared to do that. More about that another time though. However, after reading this book, I am fully aware that God is whispering that if I will indeed let Him walk me through the pain... He will bring the healing. Just for the record, I hate pain, of any sort. SO, I have made the decision that I will look at what I need to look at, and I will face the demons that I need to face, and I will uncover the damage from the lies I have believed. AND, I will be healed and free to be the woman God originally intended me to be.
2. I now have words to describe something that I have been feeling, and aware of, but could not bring a coherent sentence to the surface to describe what I was feeling. I will do my best to explain this now.

I have felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for those women and men who have stood with me in these last months. I have felt an immense amount of love, strength, encouragement and on the days when I wanted to give up the journey to the unknown, and go back to what was known but would destroy me.... someone would do or say something that would keep me moving forward. I have remembered the last time I tried to leave my marriage after the first affair. I was in Florida, I was a pastor's wife... and even though he confessed it from the pulpit... I was shunned. I was asked to leave my small group so that they could "minister" to his mistress. There was a small group of people that did not know what to say or do, so they tried to help as best they could. I do remember two women coming and helping me pack up my house so that I could move to Georgia to be near my family. But, after I moved no one from our church kept in touch. They drifted on, not sure what to say or do. Possibly they were struggling with their own questions and fears and confusion and just were not able to help me. I remember that when I got to Georgia I felt overwhelmingly alone. Even though I had my family, and they began to introduce me to their friends and slowly (thanks to my never met a stranger part of my personality) I began to make friends. This time the friends became friends with who I was. Not my role as a pastor's wife, not my position.... but, who I truly was. I will add a caveat here, there were a couple of friends that I stayed in touch with over the last 5 years. Strangely enough, they did not go to our church, they were my Bunco friends.

This morning, as I was finishing up my book, there was a discussion between two of the characters that stood out to me. It was the #2 thing that stood out to me from the book. It clarified what I have been trying to articulate. Sully, a christian therapist is talking to his client, Lucia. He says, "A pain you can't heal." Sully said. "But I don't think you could have taken the risk of feeling it before. You didn't have then what you have now."
"What's that?"
"You said it yourself. Wesley, your dad, the whole crowd." ...."You're finding something that a lot of us have forgotten we need," he said. "You're building community. You're not alone anymore, so now you can suffer without being afraid it is going to take you down." ... "Keep saying, 'Dear God, dear God.' There may still be suffering-but keep touching those people Lucia, and He won't let you suffer alone anymore."

And that is what I realized today. In these last few years, I have been building community around me. The kind of community that tells me that I do not have to be perfect to be loved. The friends that will look at me while I am crying, with snot running down my face and tell me that I am worth being loved, that I am beautiful and that God wants to help me. This time, when I tried to leave, his usual manipulations did not work. Because I had friends on speed dial that I could call and say - talk me down from the ledge. I remember one night, he had violated the restraining order and talked to me. He wanted me to meet him for coffee so we could "talk." As soon as I left my son's game, I called my girlfriend. All I could say was, "I can't think, my head is not straight... please help me get my head straight." After 5 minutes on the phone with her, I was able to think logically. The panic was replaced by peace. And, after I was calm, God was able to give me the strength to do what I needed to do. I was able to make the decision that I was comfortable with. Whether it was words, or actions... for the friends that have cleaned my house for me, when I was to overwhelmed, or the friends that hung punching bags in my garage for my kids to use... to the friends that have hugged me and held me and whispered "I'm praying." to the friends that have said "come over and eat and have a drink." The friends that have loved on my kids while I fell apart... I could not have left the situation I left without that community. For every bible verse that was emailed, every song that was sent to speak to my heart... they did. I was not strong enough on my own to leave what I had to leave. But, God knew that. He did not ask me to do it alone. He provided the community... and He provided the grace and peace and strength.

I still have days where all I can say is "Dear God, dear God." And on those days, I keep touching the people around me... and the suffering is still there, the pain is still there, the healing is still coming bit by bit... but, I am not suffering alone. I finally can articulate what is in my heart. And, to each of you that have stood with me... I thank you. I could not do it without you.

Now, for the woman reading this that is in that marriage that is killing her slowly, and is afraid to leave... look around you. You do not have to do this alone. I am not saying leave (although if you are being abused in any form, that is not what God wants for you). But, look around you, open your eyes and your mouth and your heart to the people that love you. Allow them the chance to be the friend for you that mine have been to me. You will be amazed at who and what God puts in your path. It will sometimes be people you never would have suspected. I suffered alone for the most part, because I did not tell people what was going on in my home. But now I will not keep silent... because we all need community around us.

At the end of the book Sully (therapist) comes to a realization. He writes (and I paraphrase) It is true that God knows suffering. He experiences it with us. It is true that God knows suffering, but he does not explain it. God only walks us through it and out into a place where we can once again be free. (Quoting now) "He does this not because we believe some rigid this or that about Him. He does it because He believes in us. He doesn't ask us to go out into the world telling people why they suffer. Even if we knew why, it wouldn't hurt any less. What we need to know is how to help each other live with it, and live well."

That is my realization and my goal.

Power of words

This morning I logged into facebook and one of my friends had the following as her status "If you "like" this status, I will post something on your wall I like about you, no matter what. Even if we barely know each other or you think it'll be awkward! Make this as your status too if you want a challenge---- why not?"  
So of course, I "liked" her status, then I reposted that as my status. I am now up to about 10 people that I have gotten to say something nice to. I also have had a couple of people say something nice to me. At the same time, I have had to deal in email form with someone that is difficult to communicate with. This person spent years shredding me to pieces with their mouth. Everything about my personhood, my character, my personality, my looks was criticized. With a few well placed words I was reduced to a mess. As I have been dealing with two such extremes today, I started to think. Our words have so much power. We can make someone's day with a well spoken couple of words. We can rip the rug out from under someone with some poorly spoken sentences. In Proverbs 18 we are told that death and life are in the power of the tongue. Not to be cheeky, but God knew what He was talking about, or maybe He created it that way. 
Why do we hold back on saying something nice to someone? What are we hurting or helping by not being open with others. Yes, there are difficult things to be said at times. Let's face it, life is real and sometimes it stinks and there are the difficult and painful conversations to be had. I am not saying let's all live in denial about reality. But, even when you are having a conflict with someone... is it hurting anything to do it in a way that shows respect for their personhood? What happens when we really, truly tell someone what we love or just like about them? Could you imagine what your day would be like if you left the house having said something nice to the people you love... you go to work, or school, or errands, whatever your day holds... knowing that you gave them a smile that they take with them all day. For each frustrating email, phone call, difficulty at work, homework assignment, whatever your day holds, let's just imagine that all throughout your day someone would say something to you that made you smile, or just lightened your mood for a second. All of the sudden the reality of life is not as hard to face. Then let's just imagine for a second that you come home, maybe you are slightly discouraged, tired, even (gasp) grumpy. Yet, you are greeted by people that can't wait to see you, they can't wait to say something to you that helps your burdened day feel a bit lighter. They are so willing to give a kind word or smile to you, because you already did that for them. How does that change your day? your mood? your reality? 
Does this all sound to "pollyanna"? I am not talking about the ridiculous, overly sappy, exaggerated kind of speech. Just think about giving more positive to those around you than negative. It does not cost me, hurt me or take my energy to say something nice to someone. Yet, the smile that they get, or the warm feeling that they get, that just makes my day. Now, just for the record, I can have a sharp tongue. People have told me that I am witty... that is the positive... the negative side of that is, sometimes I can say something that slices and dices without thinking it through. I need to work on that.
I think I really want to be able to give with an open heart, whether my words, actions, or even my thoughts. I really want to be a positive influence in someone's day. It is not always easy. People can difficult, sometimes they are just a real pain in the you know what... but, I want to try. I really like the way I have felt today when I have told ten people (thirteen including my children) something I like about them. I wonder if those people liked being told what makes them special?

Journal entry 6/18/10

Tonight I am exhausted. It is not a physical tiredness, although that is there. I am emotionally worn out. I am spiritually wasted.
This week has been wave after wave of mess. About the time I thought I could handle the wave, and "feel", something else would happen.
I have been terrified this week and had to re-trust God. I have had to deal with normal problems and crazy abnormal problems. I have done all of that. At no point this week did I give up, revert back to learned helplessness. I knew who to call to help with the next problem. But, so many issues this week. I am empty.
There were some good things that happened this week, but right this second, they are not dominant.
Underlying the busy-ness and emotional roller coaster is a loneliness that I became aware of. I will try and describe it.
When you are single and raising children, the weight of everything is on your shoulders. Now, hopefully, even divorced parents can work together for the sake of their children, but let's face it... that is not my reality. All of the decisions, all of the problems, even the fun is my responsibility. If there is emotional drama... you still have a house to clean and children to feed and listen to.
But more than just not having hands to help with the work, it's deeper. I was codependent in my marriage. I was sure I could not survive without him. Now, I see I can survive and even thrive. But at the end of the night, when I go to bed, there is no one else. There are no words of encouragement, no sweet kisses to remind me this will pass. No arms around me to let me know I am not alone, or at least hold me together when I fall apart.
I know God is here, waiting to be my strength, my peace, my comforter. I know if I will simply trust Him with my heart, He will heal and make me stronger. He will protect and love me better than any other man.
For tonight though, I will feel the ache of loneliness, I will let my heart break from the onslaught this week has brought. I will let the tears fall, and I will finally admit... I am weak, I am tired, I am frightened. Even in this though, I know who to run to. I am lonely and sad and broken tonight, but I will remember that my crying is for tonight. I am promised that joy comes in the morning. I just hope it literally (and not figuratively) means tomorrow morning.
Nehemiah 8:10... The joy of the Lord is your strength...
So, bring it on.

Overwhelmed

This will be my shortest blog yet. (You didn't know that was possible did you?) I just want to say, I have been overwhelmed by the encouragement I have received on my latest posting. But, even more so, I have been amazed by the private messages and emails from people (men and women) telling me that something that I said has given them the courage to face certain relationships in their lives that are painful and need to change. I will say, quite happily for me, none of these have actually been with a marriage partner.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support and encouragement to keep talking. This is an issue that I am passionate about, to the core of my being. I thank God that I have the freedom (and I might as well thank all the soldiers that are fighting for that freedom) to speak out. I thank God that Dawn encouraged me to start this blog and that already it is making a difference, people are stopping to think, and engage on this topic of domestic violence.

My whole blog will not always be about abuse. I am also going to chronicle the painful parts of divorce. This is something that no one should choose unless they have very good reason. I can say that I examined every angle, counted every cost I could think of, and prayed at every step before I made the decision I made. Ultimately, the issue was forced and I was left with no other option. But, I had thought it through and prior to the final act of violence, had made the decision to keep trying to work out the other issues in our marriage. AND YET, there are costs that I did not even know I had to count, there is pain that I did not have any way to anticipate. There is also, and incredible amount of good that has happened and is happening. This will be a blog about healing, about forgiveness, grace, freedom, life, and as always, there will be a lot of smiling.

Thanks for walking this road with me. I am truly honored to have you here.

Truth and myths

So, I received an anonymous comment on my blog. It is there for everyone to see, but I thought that I would address it. I must say, I have had two weeks to think about it, due to my forced silence (thank you again AT&T)


"Beka, As curious as I am about all you've been through and your personal journey, I fear you will regret making this such a public forum. Before more private details are devulged, I'm worried that the public nature of your blog is a further breech of your children's privacy and their childhood. Haven't they been through enough already?
I fully support your decision to blog, but could you not reap the same benefit blogging anonymously? Why do this publically? Love to you and yours... "


Now, on the one hand, this is a completely honest comment. It did indeed cause me to stop and think about what I am doing and saying. I also think this comment reveals a lot about the issue of domestic violence and the lies and secrets that are kept that people do not understand even now. I think that there is a great deal of naivete in the premise of this person's concern. Not sure what I mean? Well, let me explain. 
First (I will take this in order of statement), for those who really know me, you have probably figured out that there is very little that I hold back. I am pretty open... and yet, how many who knew me had any idea what was going inside my house and my marriage? This reveals so much of why I am choosing to speak out in a public forum. I have had so many women confess to me that they are either currently in an abusive relationship or have been and had the courage to leave. They have told me this because I have been open about what I have experienced. They have said that they have not told anyone else. They are confused, hurting physically, emotionally, spiritually. They are afraid... and for the ones that had the strength and courage to leave the relationship, they are just relieved, but not sure anyone would really believe what they experienced. Did you know that 1 in 4 women are abused in some form in their relationship with their significant other? That is a lot of women that are struggling, Did you know that for many of those women they will suffer in silence? That breaks my heart personally. I know what it is to suffer in silence. For 6 very long years I did not tell a soul what was happening to me. It was not until my abuser told me he was going to kill me and described exactly how he would do it, that I was able to realize I had to tell someone. I was terrified and could no longer handle everything on my own. The stigma of admitting that you have been a victim to violence at the hands of the person you love is humiliating. I want to speak out. I want women who might be suffering this pain in silence and fear to know that they are not the only one. That abuse is not confined to the non-christian, the low income, the unintelligent. 
     As for my children's privacy and their childhood? Well, that has already been affected. They are suffering and will suffer the ramifications of what happened between their father and I for the rest of their lives. I am paying thousands of dollars for their therapy and my own... because we are all suffering. The day that I had to look at each of my children in the eye, separately and when the time came and they were ready and apologize to them for teaching them to keep secrets, for modeling for them how to stuff fear and pain and put on a front... was one of the worst days of my life. To realize that I had not modeled for them appropriate boundaries and proper self-respect, broke my heart. I hurt my babies as much as anything their father did to me. I had to take responsibility for that. My children have suffered greatly. They are fully aware of what was happening in our house. They saw more than even I realized. There is nothing I can do to take that away from them... but, I can begin to live differently. They have supported me so far in telling my story. They are aware of how hard we are all having to work to deal with the fallout from what has happened in our home and in our lives. They are not interested in reading my blog now, because frankly, I am the mom and that is how kids are. However, they know that I have chosen to open my mouth up about what has happened, and that I want to help others who might be suffering. They, too, do not want to see other families suffer and not know that there is help, there is an alternative, and that God is stronger than even the biggest abuser. 
     It is painful and humiliating at times to talk about what I have been through. It is even sadder to think that there is a woman or a child suffering that could be helped. I will not hide the freedom I have been given, and I will never back down from sharing my life openly... and if God can use my voice and my experience to help others... then I am here. 
     In the meantime, I will continue to pray for myself and my children and their father. I will continue to work on helping my children heal, and work towards my own healing. The true healer of my soul is God but I made decisions and choices that led to the brokenness in our lives, and I must work towards making new choices and learn new ways of behaving. But, I will do it out in the open. AND MAYBE, just maybe, God can use this for His glory.