Letter to No One

I had to drive to Branson the day before my birthday, alone.

I spent the whole trip replaying other road trips we took. It made me think of the times we laughed until we couldn’t see the road through our tears. But it also made me remember the times we fought and sat in silence for hours. Mostly, it just made me sad.

My heart still speeds up every time I see a red Chevy truck. What if it were you? Would you acknowledge my existence? Would you pretend not to see me? Would you use the opportunity to drive the dagger even deeper?   

I still think of you often. My aunt Glenda still asks about you. People will talk about you sometimes and I never know what to say. One of my World Games athletes still asks about Duke and Izzy every time he writes on my wall, even though I’ve told him several times that I don’t have them anymore. Their picture still sits on the shelf in my cube.

We spent Christmas in Spokane. I was there just over a year ago, but somehow, this time it felt like you were haunting me. You were my own Ghost of Christmas Past.

“No, dear brothers and sisters, I am still not all I should be, but I am focusing all my energies on this one thing:  Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.”   Philippians 3:13

“Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”   Ephesians 4:32

Sometimes we feel that if we can forgive, then we can forget.  Forgiveness is not really about forgetting (which is often impossible), but about surrendering your right to hurt another person back.  Forgiveness allows you to release the bitter desire for retribution and frees you from anger, hurt, and bitterness.  After someone has wronged you, time will either harden your heart, making you bitter and unyielding, or it will soften it, giving you a desire for healing and restoration.  Willingness to forgive is the only way to achieve these. 

Forgiveness is a hard thing to describe. I’ve forgiven you for all of the pain from the marriage and divorce. You say you’ve forgiven me, but it feels like all you’ve done is try your hardest to forget. I want to forgive, but I’m not free of the hurt that followed after the ink dried. I guess I don’t know exactly where I stand. There’s a fine line between forgiveness and letting you take advantage of me. At some point, I have to look out for myself, and I think I’ve reached that point.

I refuse to forget, but I AM looking forward to what lies ahead. I’m moving, all by myself. I think you’d be proud of me. 

I hate it when something happens that reminds me of you, but I can’t tell you about it. Maybe that hurts more than anything.

Recently, I read A Severe Mercy. The author and his wife come to God after being atheists. The wife comes a lot further than the author, who is still distracted by worldly things and more in love with her than with Jesus. She dies. After her death, he realizes that God was using her to speak to him. If she had lived, he never would have fully turned over his life. I know God doesn’t punish us, but I know that He uses situations to teach us powerful lessons. I had to be completely broken to get to where I am now. I still have a hard time believing that this was his plan for me, but He knew this was the path I’d take. He knew this was what it would take to bring me to him. The divorce was my own severe mercy. I hope you’ve found yours.

Note to anyone who’s not No One: I am at peace with my life. I’m not looking for sympathy. I find healing in writing, which is why I started this blog. I’m going to continue to be real on here, and sometimes that means I’m a little sad. I want this to serve as a true account of what it’s like to go through a divorce. I want people to know that the pain is deep, and it lasts long beyond what you could imagine. I want people to find God without having to go through this.

11 in '11

Well, we’ve reached mid-December, and I’ve blogged about maybe two of my trips this year. Instead of beat myself up about it, or pretend I actually have any illusions of actually writing an entire blog for any of my trips, I’m going to make a list. I like lists, so it’s a win-win.

My Top 11 Events from 2011 (in somewhat chronological order)

11. My New Year’s resolution was peace, love and happiness. I was still battling a lot of demons, so I enrolled myself in DivorceCare at The Crossing. I went in hoping for some closure. I may have come out with more questions than I started with, but at least I felt like I knew the right questions, finally. I made a lot of progress toward forgiving myself. And I think I have a really good grasp on what it takes to make marriage work, because it’s far too sad and cynical to think that I’d never get married again.

10. I traded in the late-March snowstorm in Missouri for sunny San Diego for the Team USA Training Camp. I blogged all about this here, but the highlights include riding around a gorgeous golf course in perfect weather, hanging out the back of a van on a bike trail and, of course, falling in love with the athletes who would represent the USA at World Games.

9. Kimmie, Erin and I set out on the first road trip of the year for Annaleigh’s bachelorette party. Erin got hit on by a 90-year-old man, I conquered my fear of driving across the Lake Ponchartrain bridge and we didn’t even get lost. Um, let’s see, what is printable about the actual party? Well, we ate a lot of good food. And we danced a LOT. And we laughed more than we danced. There was Lady Gaga and a beach bar and sunburns and street art and beads and champagne and frozen drinks. It was kind of everything you’d expect if you’ve met Annaleigh and ever been to New Orleans and/or a bachelorette party. (Except the only stripper in the hotel was actually trying to break into our room. We didn’t hire him. I promise.)

8. Erin, Eric, Jeremie and I set out for Alabama for Annaleigh’s wedding a few weeks later. We made the requisite stop at Lambert’s and then talked about nothing but Hunger Games until we gorged ourselves at the first seafood joint we could find. Then we arrived at the Craft house, which happens to be right out of a movie set: big white colonial right on Dog River surrounded by droopy trees. Annaleigh continued to prove that everything she’d ever told us was, in fact, true. We reunited with our Alabama BFFs and the girls headed to a nail salon, where we munched on chips and sipped beer. The rehearsal dinner was delicious and picturesque, and I got to ride on Bob’s boat back to the house. Then we all went to Meghan’s where we played beer pong and proved that Mobile is not better than The World. (Seriously, beer at the nail salon and beer pong the night before your wedding? There is NO ONE in the world like my Annaleigh. J) The morning of the wedding, we watched the coverage of William and Kate while we got our hair and makeup done. The 13 bridesmaids were all soft and lovely in their dresses, and Annaleigh made us all cry when she came out in her dress. The wedding went off as planned, I gave a compelling reading from Genesis 2, and Annaleigh got married – just like I always knew she would. The weather was perfect for the backyard reception, where the wedding party made the grandest of entries on a yacht. We ate delicious Southern comfort food (I’m thinking I should blame the 2011 brides for my inability to lose weight this year) and drank from mason jars. We danced harder than maybe I’ve ever danced in my life. We threw dynamite in the river. And then, when the reception was over, we walked downtown – Annaleigh still in her wedding dress – and danced some more.  

 

7. I made a ton of trips to St. Louis this year, but none were more memorable than for the nuptials of the city’s most-missed couple: Erin and Eric. They had inadvertently set their date on the day of rapture, so that almost ruined everything, but luckily that guy turned out to just be a kook. This ceremony goes down as the least-traditional wedding I’ve ever witnessed, and every detail screamed Erin, right down to the squashed penny on the program. Annaleigh officiated, and there were readings from both Hemingway and Where the Wild Things Are. Erin was stunning and so relaxed, and she never even had to grasp at her throat for air. If I thought my friends brought the party to the dance floor in Alabama, we were matched by the rest of Erin and Eric’s guests, including his adorable grandpa. It was one of the happiest, biggest celebrations I’ve been a part of.

 

 

6. In June, I headed to Baltimore to depart for Special Olympics World Games. I blogged about the entire experience on the SOMO website, so I’ll just share the outtakes here. After an excited Sendoff, we filled the international terminal at BWI, where games of Uno and beach ball broke out. TSA probably would have been horrified under any other circumstances. Once we finally boarded our two planes, it was a pretty uneventful flight to our refueling stop in Ireland. I think everyone stayed awake during the last leg of our trip, and nearly every announcement was met with an enthusiastic “USA! USA! USA!”

We arrived in the Isle of Rhodes, where the local law enforcement promptly confiscated our passports. We got them back the next day, but it was still a little unsettling. Michele and I set up in our suite, only to discover abundant issues with getting online. We finally got that situation mostly figured out, after basically rearranging all of the furniture. I’m sure the maids hated us. Other things about Rhodes: you can’t flush the toilet paper, we bought the wrong kind of electrical converters, there are no guardrails, pedestrians never have the right-of-way, a desert does not make for a good golf course, and it is a terrible idea to pack 600 Special Olympics athletes into a seaside discothèque. All part of international travel, I guess. But man, it was gorgeous.

After a few days of training, we took a 16-hour overnight boat ride to Athens. I am pretty sure by the time we got to the other side of the Aegean Sea, nearly everyone would have offered to shell out the extra $100 or so it would have cost to get a plane ticket instead!

The Opening Ceremony was incredible. There’s nothing on Earth like walking into a stadium full of people cheering for you, and seeing the athletes’ faces light up in awe was probably one of the most emotional moments of my life. It all felt like slow motion. The trip out of OC, however, was not so delightful, and I actually feared that someone would be trampled. If Greeks are one thing, organized is not it.

Back at the hotel the next morning, Michele and I were relieved to learn we had a driver and interpreter to split between the two of us. However, the hotel would not clear him to drive up to the front door, so we had to walk down the drive past the gate. It was hot, so we were ready to enjoy a nice mist from the sprinklers, when suddenly we realized … they were irrigating their lawn with recycled sewer water. You have never seen two PR ladies loaded down with cameras run across a parking lot so fast! After a long, exhausting run-around trying to get our media credentials, we were pretty much deflated, so our interpreter took us to a Greek fast-food place, where we had heavenly gyros. Eventually, they stopped caring about media credentials, which made that first day all the more frustrating. The rest of the time there, we at “cheese rolls” which are basically a buttered hoagie loaf with one long piece of cheese. If you were lucky, there was also a slice of meat. The bocce team started hoarding lunchmeat from their hotel to take to the venue. I resolved to never complain about a SOMO turkey sandwich again.

Needless to say, between the long hours, long commutes and sketchy internet connections, I wasn’t getting much sleep. Our room only included one bed and one cot, and I knew I’d be sleeping hard, so I took the cot. Which was fine, except for the occasional collapse that startled me awake. I was happy if I  got four hours, so I used the time in the van to catch a few extra minutes when I could. I became very good at falling asleep the moment the motor started, or, as I like to call it, carcolepsy. I worried that I was becoming so conditioned to this that I’d never be able to drive myself anywhere again, but luckily I reverted back.

Greek people really like to argue. Or converse loudly with angry faces and lots of exaggerated arm gestures. It stressed Michele and me out, but they kept saying it was normal. The craziest was one day when our driver, Dimitris, was trying to get us to the softball and cycling venue. We arrived at the gate and he was told he had to drop us off there (basically like two arena-sized parking lots away). I was on the phone with a reporter, and Michele insisted we could walk. Dimitris said no, then continued to argue with the gatekeeper. The gatekeeper slid the van door open, so we got out. Dimitris motioned for us to get back in, then made a phone call. Our interpreter, Andreas, screamed into view on his moped, then joined the loud talking with arm gestures. Michele tried insisting again that we could walk, to which Dimitris and Andreas both looked at us and shouted “NO!” Then a taxi showed up with a couple who were trying to get to the badminton venue for their son’s match. The taxi driver was also told he had to drop them off, so they got out. Andreas and Dimitris continued talking loudly and making wild arm gestures. Suddenly, the couple from the taxi got into our van, the door slammed shut, and we were moving. I was still on the phone with the reporter. I stared at Michele wide-eyed, trying to convey my thoughts (which were pretty much WTH?!). She shrugged and we made a wide loop around the parking lot on two wheels of the van before dropping off the couple from the taxi. I finished my call, and Dimitris dropped us off in front of the softball venue.

Okay, I’m taking up too much space here, so let me wrap this up. One of the best parts of the trip was on the plane ride home, finally descending, when a pillow fight broke out. Exhausted, cranky, ready to be home, and our athletes can’t pass up the chance to have fun. Despite all of the challenges, they reminded me that the trip was well worth it. I have a ton more pictures I could upload, but it's easier if you just click this link.

5. I had been wanting to go to NYC to visit Doug since he first moved there eight years ago. After his aneurism, it became even more important. And now that he has a posh apartment in Harlem, it was the perfect time. We visited art museums, shopped, drank wine and walked so much, I thought my feet would fall off. We saw the Statue of Liberty, Top of the Rock, Stone Street and the High Line. We went to Sister Act. I pretended I was a local and followed Doug and Roldan around a supermarket. Roldan cooked butter chicken and let us share his birthday gift certificate to one of the most elegant French restaurants in town. I’m sold on the city, and I’m determined to get back there at least every-other year. Oh, and I even managed to make the bus trip back to the airport all by myself.

4. Somehow, Kimmie and Ryan are the first of my friends to realize that the only way to get married is on a beach. Mary, Mark and I made the long journey down to Tybee Island with a quick overnight stop in Nashville so  Annaleigh and Shane could follow us. I had booked a four-bedroom house for the Marys, Leslies, Nancys and myself and Jeremie, but a few days before the trip we learned that it was under construction. I was pretty excited at the solution I negotiated: an upgraded house! When we arrived, we spent a good 10 minutes just wandering around and exclaiming “Wow!” Within a few minutes, we had spotted a pod of dolphins just off the back deck. Once the rest of our party found us, we headed to a popular restaurant, where, for some unfathomable reason, there are baby alligators that you can feed. I overcame my fear and posed for a few pictures, then swiftly walked to safer ground. We spent the morning of the wedding playing in the ocean, where baby Owen experienced saltwater for the first time. We showered and headed back to the beach for the wedding, which was so understated and beautiful, just like Kim. The food was delicious, again, and we overtook the dance floor, again. Jeremie had a meeting in Chicago with his new job, so he flew down and met us at the beach house right after the reception, where ¾ of the guests moved for an after-party. Sunday, the wedding party all piled their luggage into the house and we spent another afternoon on the beach. It was just like we had dreamed of in college – the first of many family beach vacations. In all, 17 of us sat down for dinner together and 15 of us slept there that night (even Julie’s boyfriend Rick came!). Once again, anyone who says that being in a sorority is like buying your friends has clearly not met my friends. We closed out the weekend with brunch at Mrs. Wilkes’ Dining Room in Savannah.

3. In October, I celebrated my birthday in three cities for 10 days. Andthen I learned that I would finally be able to move to St. Louis. And then the Cardinals won the World Series.

2. Thanksgiving marked my first official holiday with Jeremie. Upon arriving at his grandparents’ house in Kansas City, we were put to work, making a pumpkin cheesecake and deviled eggs. I was glad they found a couple of things that I was able to help with, since I am completely intimidated by their cooking! We celebrated the actual meal at Jeremie’s aunt’s house, where her boyfriend proposed! It was an eventful day, and fun to be a part of. That evening, we headed to the Plaza, where we watched Eric Stonestreet from Modern Family flip the switch to the famous lights. Friday, we picked up the kids and headed to Crown Center for ice skating. Then we did a little shopping before watching the Mayor’s Christmas tree lighting. Saturday, we did a little more shopping, then ate pizza and headed to see the Muppet Movie. We were proud to see that both kids enjoyed it.

1. All of that, and I’m still not done for the year. Friday, I will leave for Spokane, where the entire Steward clan will spend Christmas together. I’m sure it will hold its own set of stories, but I’ll save that for another time.

So, did I accomplish my resolution? Maybe not exactly. My bank account shrank from all the travel, and I may have a few more laugh lines around my eyes. But I would say I grew in friends, wisdom and happiness, and I can’t imagine much there’s more valuable than that.

*I realized when I got to the end that I had written the 11 in descending order, like No. 1 was going to be the best, but then I wrote them in chronological order. I considered switching them, but decided against it. Even if each event didn’t top the previous one, my year got better with each one.

You Can Find Me In St. Louie

Things that are from St. Louis:
- Gateway Arch
- Nelly
- Toasted ravioli
- Ice cream cones
- Budweiser
- David Freese
- And, coming in January 2012, ME!

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to live in St. Louis. As a kid growing up in Southeast Missouri, it was the home to Six Flags, the Magic House and the Cardinals. Once we moved to Jeff City, it was the midpoint on the way to visit relatives, where we would stop at shopping malls and go through the Krispy Kreme drive through so I could have donuts all week. I remember looking out the window as we drove through Lake Saint Louis, trying to decide which house I would buy someday. I went to college, and somehow I ended up in a group of friends primarily from St. Louis. It seems the city has always been calling my name.

Naturally, following my divorce, this seemed like a logical move. However, I wasn't ready for quite such a big change yet, so I moved back to Jeff City, where I could keep my job and be close to family. Earlier this year, with my lease's end approaching, I asked about working from our St. Louis office. Unfortunately, at the time, our office was full and they had just signed a five-year lease. Plus, there are some elements of my job that work best while based in the JC office. I had resigned myself to the fact that I'd have to leave, and I was job hunting pretty intensely.

It's a little weird to be working in a place you don't think you'll be for long, and the job search was pretty discouraging. I found myself a little bored and uninspired. I just wanted to get this figured out. Then, I received this Bible verse and explanation (thanks Katie Rae!):

When darkness overtakes the godly, light will come bursting in . . . Such people will not be overcome by evil circumstances . . . They do not fear bad news; they confidently trust the Lord to care for them. They are confident and fearless and can face their foes triumphantly." Psalm 112:4, 6-8

God wants to use you right where you are. His guidance isn’t just for your next big decision—he had a purpose in placing you where you are at this moment. Look at your current circumstances as a calling from God. Serve and obey him in the little things today. God has placed you here for "such a time as this."　

That made me stop and give thanks for my job. It's not that I ever wanted to leave; I just didn't think I had a choice anymore if I wanted to move my life forward. I grabbed onto my next big project, approached it with joy and was thrilled with my results.

Then, a few weeks ago, I overheard something about our St. Louis office building being bought out. I inquired, but it didn't change the parts of my job that need to stay in JC. Then, a week later, my team member and friend, Ashley, told our boss that she would be leaving at the end of the year to stay at home with her baby. Suddenly, I was scrambling to rearrange Ashley's and my job duties and writing a proposal that outlined how I would maintain a presence in the HQ office from afar. I turned in my proposal on Wednesday. It was accepted that Friday. Today, it all became official.

I won't start in the new St. Louis office until Jan. 16 because we'll have to hire and train Ashley's replacement, but it is so nice knowing what my next step is going to be. It is really crazy to see the way it all worked out. I knew God had a plan, but I had no idea it would come together so perfectly. It was truly an exercise in trusting Him and being patient.

So, it turns out there are two big St. Louis things to celebrate this week. If you care to join me, get up and SHAKE YA' TAILFEATHER! 

What's this? A new post?

They say to write a successful blog, you should post a few times a week. When I started this blog, my goal was to post once a week. I think it’s safe to say I’ll never get paid for this blog. And that’s okay.

I’ve thought about what I should write over and over. Between the crazy schedule I’ve been keeping, exhaustion, writer’s block, confusion and sometimes sadness, I just haven’t been able to figure out what direction to take. So today, I decided I’ll just sit down and write and see what comes out.

This summer has been crazy. I’ve been to Kansas City, Baltimore, Rhodes, Athens, Chicago, New York City and St. Louis. And next weekend I’m going to Georgia. I’ve learned that, while I absolutely LOVE travel, I also really enjoy time at home. My house becomes increasingly messier with every trip. My goals of cleaning out my closet and moving all my files over to my laptop so I can sell my desktop keep getting pushed back. Every time I have a weekend at home, I end up hiding under my favorite blanket on the couch with a glass of wine and some mindless program on the TV.

I guess the point here is that I’ve learned I need balance. I need to schedule more “nothing” weekends so that I can keep my life (and my apartment) nice and tidy. The other thing about being gone so much is that I’ve really dropped my spiritual pursuits. I had three books I was going to read, and I got about 20 pages into each one and gave up. My relationship with God has been pretty stagnant. I know he’s there and I talk to him daily, but I know I’m not living life in a way that will bring me any closer to him. I need that – I can literally feel myself struggling when I don’t put energy into that relationship.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. – Proverbs 3:5-6

I came across that verse three times in one day this week. Think he’s trying to tell me something? As much as I want to rush my life forward, move to St. Louis, get married, start a family, etc., I know I need to wait, and his answers will reveal themselves. So I’m trying to be patient. It’s no coincidence that the song that keeps playing in my head (again, missing from playlist.com) is JJ Heller’s “Control.”

I mentioned earlier that I’ve had some pretty sad moments this summer. In one last effort to extend kindness and restore some semblance of friendship with my ex, I was asked never to contact him again. That hurts like I can’t even describe. It makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong, since this all came on with no explanation. And it makes it incredibly hard to continue to keep bitterness out of my heart. All I can do is pray for the strength to be kind, to let go, and to see that God’s opinion is the one that really matters.

Despite those sad moments, I’m struck with a realization: Maybe the reason I haven’t been blogging is that I have been mostly happy. Maybe I haven’t needed this narrative therapy as much as I used to. Maybe I’m moving on.

I’ll try to get back into a better pattern of blogging, if for no other reason than it helps me sharpen my writing skills. Here’s to hopefully happier topics.

Another K.O.

Why does this keep happening? I had a good weekend. I'm tired of the grief creeping up and knocking me out.

I visited a, um, rather enthusiastic church in town a few months ago. They were starting a series called "Fight for the Family" or something, and chose a very literal illustration to get their point across: Jesus and Satan in a large boxing ring in the middle of the sanctuary. Smoke, lights, people dressed up as demons sneaking through the crowd -- it was all too much for me (and frankly, I think part of the reason Christians get made fun of sometimes). Anyway, the crowd was starting to get into it when one lady from the other side of the room screeched, "GET OUTTA HERE, SATAN!" The rest of the congregation cheered. I sank down in my seat and tried to hold in my giggles.

I'm glad there are people who are so passionate. And I'm glad there's a place for them to come together and worship. It's just not for me. However, maybe I need to learn some courage from her. Maybe when I feel this coming on, I should stand up and tell Satan who's boss. Let him know I'm not afraid of him.

------ Abrupt change of subject ------

I forgot to include some explanation in my last post. It's actually the reason I chose the "truths" theme. I've recently had several people ask me about sharing such raw emotion on here. It's not that I'm brave to be so open with this stuff. It's that it helps me heal. I read what I write, I cry, I read it again, and keep doing this until it doesn't hurt anymore. I guess the other part of it is that I just really don't want anyone else to go through this. If me being vulnerable can help even one person, then it's worth it, and it makes my pain feel a little more worthwhile.

Well, and then there's the selfish part where sometimes I need some words of encouragement, and knowing there are people praying for me is comforting.

Hard to find a song to fit with this post (I refuse to have "Let's Get Ready to Rumble" on my playlist, even if it was playing during the actual church service.). I couldn't add my first choice, so here's a link to it, and my favorite lyrics below:

Everything that attaches
Someday falls apart
When the plan collapses
It can break your heart

Like a southbound train
This is a song for leaving
Don't you know the pain
It's a part of the healing
-Brett Dennen, "Song for Leaving"

Truths

DivorceCare wrapped up this week. I know a few of us were wondering what we'll do with our Wednesday nights now. No one said it, but I for one am a little nervous about "graduating" from this program. I feel like I took a lot away from it, but it was so nice having a weekly reminder that I'm not alone, and a group of people to bounce things off of when I was having a tough time. So, I decided to take a look at my life today. I was actually a little surprised by some of the things I found.

The truth is, I will probably always have some regret regarding the end of my marriage. And it may always hurt to hear about his new life, and to know that he doesn't want anything to do with me.

The truth is, God forgives me. And this experience has brought me closer to Him than I've ever been. I can't keep dwelling on  this; I have to move on and forgive myself.

The truth is, I know way more about love and marriage now that I did when I was married. I was telling Leslie recently, they really should have couples go through pre-marital counseling with other couples, rather than with their pastor. At least I feel like I'll really be prepared next time.

The truth is, this time has allowed me to really figure out who I am. That sounds really cliche, but being alone has helped me discover new music, food, friendships and places. I never would have done so much exploring if I were still married. I've taken on a "yes" attitude: Yes, I'll try that; Yes, I'll go there. I've got nothing to lose, and I've already gained so much. I want to be full of life.

The truth is, I'm seeing someone. And he's pretty great. For now, I'm keeping the rest of that to myself, but I will say that I'm grateful that he is so patient and understanding. He knows everything I write about on here and is willing to talk me through the pain or give me space whenever I'm hurting. And he's willing to wait until I know I'm ready for each next step.

The truth is, alligators are real. And punching them in the nose will not prevent them from eating you. (A joke for my fellow guests of Annaleigh's wedding. More on that extravaganza later).

The truth is, life is pretty good right now. I'm blessed.

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again
-Mumford & Sons, "The Cave"

Living with Regret

I've struggled all weekend to figure out what to say here. Bear with me, as this is probably going to come out stream-of-consciousness style.

I'll start with something positive: My blog has a new look, complete with playlist! It pretty well lines up to all my old posts, although I doubt anyone but me will ever go back to an old post and fire up the corresponding song (also, the supply of Christian music on playlist.com is woefully inadequate). I often think about what song would be playing if my life were a movie, and I truly believe music can be healing, so I'm glad to finally incorporate music into my blog.

Okay, here comes the hard stuff. I've written a little bit about regret. About the many things I wish I'd done differently in my marriage and my separation. About how much I wish I could go back and change things. And about how I'm struggling to find the "right" amount of regret - an amount that's not letting satan take over my heart, but that still keeps me in check to avoid making the same mistakes. I'm still struggling, and I don't really have any wise words to pull myself through right now.

There are several people in my life right now who are going through, filing for, or thinking about divorce. This is really hard stuff to say one-on-one, and I know how much I resisted any advice like this when I was in the middle of a separation, so I'm posting it here. If you're in that situation, I'm happy to talk to you about it more, or you can pretend you never read this. But I hope you'll really think about it.

Divorce seems like a way out. It seems like a means to an end when it comes to pain. It seems like a way to protect yourself. Let me assure you, the pain does not stop once the papers are signed. Not only does it take your heart a very, very long time to heal, but that person will still hold the power to hurt you, intentionally or not. At the moment, I'm convinced he will always have that power, but I'm open to the idea that maybe he won't.

Divorce doesn't just make all your problems go away. It takes two to ruin a marriage, and if you don't work on whatever parts you contributed, the odds overwhelmingly say you'll fail again. Yes, it takes two to change, too, but wouldn't you rather put all that energy into an existing, years-long relationship than start off a new relationship with work to do? Whatever challenges you encountered in your first marriage will almost certainly surface again in marriage 2, 3, 4, etc. The only way to avoid getting your heart broken again and again is to face the challenges and deal with them.

Just in case I haven't been perfectly clear: If I had it to do again, I would not have chosen divorce. I can't begin to describe the pain, the loneliness, the emptiness, the hopelessness. I am grateful for the lessons I've learned, but again, I could have learned those while investing in my marriage. I'm pretty convinced that the only thing that could have saved us is a Christian counselor. If you're in this situation and need help finding someone, please let me know. I fiercely don't want anyone else to have to go through this.

A helpful tidbit I've learned in DivorceCare: God doesn't put us in marriages to make us happy. He puts us in marriages to satisfy His plan. It's our job to be obedient and work through the challenges. I used to justify that God didn't want me to be unhappy. Did I really think He'd give me a life with no pain? Or that every challenge didn't have a purpose?

I found out yesterday that my ex is engaged. My regret boiled over, scalding me and relegating me to a spot on my couch under a blanket for a good 15 hours. By a cruel twist of Facebook, their photos ended up in my news feed. And of course I looked at them -- all of them (don't judge me, you know you would have looked too). Friends, if ever there were a photo of your dreams being shattered, it is your ex-spouse down on one knee in front of another woman. No amount of time, space or healing could have made that moment any less painful. I still know his engagement speech to me, and it kept ringing in my ears. I wondered if he said the same things to her. I have a lot of opinions on his new relationship, but a) this isn't the place for them, and b) I guess it's not my business.

Thank you to everyone who responded to my desperate text message. And I'm sorry to those I know I snapped at. If for nothing else than a reminder to myself, I'll try to summarize your kind words below:

- I'm working through the pain now. All the tears are healing me so that I can have a baggage-free relationship later.
- Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. - Proverbs 3:5
- Happiness is the best revenge because nothing drives people crazier than seeing someone have a good (expletive deleted) life.
- Some people shut down and stop fighting. I am not one of those people.
- Trust me in your times of trouble, and I will rescue you, and you will give me glory. - Psalms 50:15
- The first song on my playlist (Sara Evans "A Little Bit Stronger")
- The nights are the worst. Just get to tomorrow. (Indeed, I couldn't fall asleep until about 4 am, and even then, it was filled with nightmares. But I think I'll be able to leave the house today.)

I think the hardest thing now is that I feel like I've lost the chance to tell him how much I've changed. True, he's been ignoring my emails and texts for months now, but that's a hard reality to deal with. I just hope he doesn't end up hurt again.

03.18.06

I had the misfortune of walking into Panera this week during Daffodil Days. And of course, the lady standing there selling them was the lady who sold me 500 daffodils five years ago. I rushed past her, eyes downcast, hoping she wouldn't recognize me or even ask if I'd purchase a daffodil. I was so successful, I managed to stuff the pain into the shell of my breadbowl and toss it in the trash when I was done.

They're still pretty.

Hard to think about where I was five years ago today. I wish I could go back and warn this girl how hard it would be. I wish I could tell her to rely on God, not her husband. I wish I could tell her that her marriage depends on it. I wish I could tell her everything's going to be okay, but only if she listens closely. I wish I could tell her all her dreams were about to come true. But that's not how it happened.

I can tell you why my marriage failed. I can paint a picture that takes all the blame off me. Maybe even makes me a cautionary tale. And since this is the internet, you'd most likely believe me. But that wouldn't be the truth.

The truth is, my marriage failed because I didn't trust and rely on God. I didn't put Him first. I tried to control my life on my own. I put all my worth in my husband's approval of me. I thought he could satisfy me. THIS is where I'm a cautionary tale.

I've learned a lot about God and love and marriage since getting divorced. Pretty sad that this is what it took to get me here, but at least I'm here. I've learned that your priorities are supposed to go: God, Husband, Children, Other Stuff. Pretty sure mine were something like: Husband, Job, Other Stuff, God. No wonder it failed. I placed so much importance and pressure on him, there was no way he could live up to it. I'm not going to say he's blameless - he did a lot of things wrong and caused a lot of pain, too. But if I had truly been turning to God with that pain, well, maybe things would be different now. Instead, every time he hurt me, I withdrew from him, until eventually the pain was so intense that I couldn't stand to be around him.

I was dead inside. I was numb. I was completely closed off. I just wanted the pain to stop, and since I still based all my feelings around my husband, I rationalized that cutting him off would cut off the pain, too. I take back my earlier statement - maybe I wish I could talk to THAT girl. I could teach her a thing or two about real pain.

Here's the thing: If you're married ... God did that on purpose. He meant for you to be married. To that person. If it's hard, that's on purpose, too. Nothing is too big for Him. If it's too big for you, give it to Him. Don't take it upon yourself to try to fix it. All He wants is for you to go to Him.

Did you know that 76 percent of second marriages fail? I will NOT be a part of that statistic.

Mandisa - "Stronger"
'Cause if He started this work in your life
He will be faithful to complete it
If only you believe it
He knows how much it hurts
And I'm sure that He's gonna help you get through this

Happy anniversary.

Setbacks

I've been learning a lot about control over the past several months. It seems every time I think I'm getting ahead of the pain, it catches back up with me. Every time I think I'm getting my life back together, God gives me a gentle push and reminds me this isn't happening on my schedule, but His.

The past two weekends in St. Louis have been great. When I stop and think about my group of college friends, I am always amazed at how we came to be. I am so, so lucky to still be close with these women. We celebrate together, we cry together, we struggle together, we laugh together. One of the "benefits" of my divorce is that I've grown closer with almost every one of them, and my love and respect for this group has grown immensely. It's enough to make me want to create a cheesy slideshow set to Bon Jovi music.

Then I come down off the high of the weekend's bridal shower, dinner with boyfriends and fiances, down time with Leslie and meeting baby Owen, and I realize that my body can only go for so many days without having a day off. And apparently that number of days is up. I wake up, again, to a sore throat. And I'm sure that, again, it will fade after a few hours, but I'm just sick of it, so I stay home. My mom says it's probably sinus drainage and scolds me for not resting one out of every seven days as intended.

A day off is such a great thing. I tend to take full advantage, not accomplishing much more than taking a shower. It's restorative. It gives my body a chance to catch up and brace for another busy week. However, inevitably that free time leads to dealing with the pain I've kept stuffed down, hoping I was done with it.

I finished The Art of Racing in the Rain today. I can't pass up a dog book, and this one has been on my list for a while. The book is great - I'd recommend it to any dog lover. It's written from the dog's perspective, which makes it especially endearing. But when I got to the last page, I found myself crying for all the wrong reasons. I miss my dogs. I haven't seen them since October, and I'm not certain I'll ever get to see them again. It seems silly to be so upset over dogs, but they were the first dogs that were truly mine. I raised them and fell in love with them and took care of them. You could say it's like I'm mourning their death, but that's not it at all. I know they're out there, and knowing that but not being able to see them is even harder.

And then my daily DivorceCare email was all about self-forgiveness. I am really struggling with this and have been for a while. I have so much regret inside me. I know there's nothing I can do to change what happened, and I know that God forgives for all my sins, but I can't seem to find the balance between forgiving and forgetting. I think I'm afraid that if I forgive myself and let all that junk go, I'll forget the lessons I've learned. I also keep wondering if it's really time to give up for good and move on. I know that dwelling on this is not good for me either, but I just can't seem to get past it.

So I had a couple of really tough hours today, and actually, my throat did not feel better. I guess I needed today for a more reasons than one.

Thankfully, donations came pouring in for my Polar Bear Strut (www.somo.org/mandisteward) right around the time of my freakout. Being able to focus on something good helped get me out of my funk. Not to mention made me feel very loved. I know God is taking care of me. And hopefully the times I have to struggle like I did today will continue to come further apart.

Divorce is an Open Wound

This is not the blog post I thought I’d be writing today. I’ve got my New Year’s Resolution all packaged up in my brain, but as I laid in bed last night struggling to fall asleep, this came together, and I was afraid if I waited to write it, it would slip away. As long as I publish my resolution by the end of the month, it still counts, right?

I’ve heard people say that going through a divorce is like getting in a car wreck every day for a year. That’s pretty accurate, especially when you’re in the negotiation phase. But once you get past that, the pain becomes . . . different. More raw. The shock sets in. It’s over. He’s gone. People around you continue to go about their business, and you’re still stuck in this in-between place. Not yet over it, but feeling like you should be. Wanting to move on, but feeling ashamed to do so.

Divorce becomes an open wound. You can cover it up with a new apartment, a new car, etc., but it’s big and messy and uneven, so there are always little bits exposed, waiting for the world to creep up and dig in. And if you don’t change the dressing often, a flap will get loose and something will yank on it, hard, and bring you to tears.

It will happen when you hear a certain jingle from a familiar commercial.

Or when you see someone walking their German shepherd.

Or when his 30th birthday passes without a single word.

Or when you find out your friend is pregnant. You’ll be happy for her, truly, but then you’ll go home to your apartment and realize just how alone you are. And how the dreams you had for yourself have been put on indefinite hold.

It will happen when you realize it’s not just a few Keith Urban songs you can’t listen to, but his voice, because the very sound of it takes you to a passenger seat with the windows down, holding hands and singing at the top of your lungs.   

Or when he unfriends you on Facebook.

Sometimes it will be a little prick. Sometimes the pain will paralyze you. Sometimes you’ll just briefly flinch before regaining composure. Other times you’ll sleep all night on the couch, because the thought of getting into bed by yourself would just add insult to injury.

But the thing is . . . wounds eventually scab over. They’re still delicate, but a protective barrier forms to keep the world out. You can choose to pick at it; to be upset when he doesn’t return an email or when you listen to a painful song on repeat, or when you're feeling sorry for yourself as you call cookie dough and wine "dinner." Or you can choose to live. You can go to Christmas parties and baby showers and game nights. You can spend hours talking with friends over hot wings or cheese dip or sushi. You can find a new workout class (no matter how much you detest it). You can join a Bible study and immerse yourself in His word. You can surround yourself with people who encourage you to be the best version of yourself.

After a while, when you peek under the bandage at the scab, ready to pull a piece off, you’ll notice that a scar has formed. It’s still tender to the touch, and sure, if you scratched hard enough, you could still inflict pain. And you’ll wonder if that scar is all people are going to see when they look at you. But the fact is, that scar is part of you. In time, that part of your skin will be tougher than the rest. As cliché as this sounds (and if I had told myself this a year ago, I probably would have rolled my eyes) It. Will. Make. You. Stronger.

Sometimes it’s hard to see God’s purpose. I still don’t understand it, but I know how much I’ve grown over the past year. I’m calmer. I’m more joyful. I’m more in love with life. I have Him, and all of you, to thank for that. You have prayed for me, fought for me and loved me. You have guarded my wound. I could not be more grateful, and most of you will never even know what a difference you’ve made.

Thank you, Leslie, for sending me this song.

You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade

Harvesting pain

My intentions with this blog were to write positive, happy things to encourage myself. But I'm realizing that you can't get to the happy stuff without pain. So today, I'll attempt to write about pain.

God must really think I'm strong. I'm not going to question Him, but I'm sure hoping all this pain is going to pay off soon. It HURTS. At times, it feels like I really can't handle any more. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to see or talk to anyone, but at the same time, I want to scream to the world for help. Throughout most of the past year and a half, I think I've done a decent job of holding myself together and pushing forward. Maybe too decent a job, because sometimes I'm not sure if people realize how much I'm hurting. I'm not asking for everyone's sympathy, but a little break here and there might help. To feel sorry for myself for just a second, I really don't think I've asked for much leniency compared to some others I know who have recently gone through a divorce.

I started going to a Bible study with my friend Ashley a couple of months ago, and I cannot thank her enough for inviting me. Lately, it seems like that is the biggest 1.5 hours of my week; the only time I really feel centered and like I have some grasp of what's going on in my life. The greatest moment of clarity came in a discussion with one of the leaders. She said, "Even with my husband and my son right in front of me, I'm not satisfied." That sounds really simple, but it was huge for me. I've spent almost my whole life trying to fill my heart with earthly relationships, when the one thing I really need is God. Jen made me realize that He's the only thing that will ever truly satisfy me.

It helps having a focus that's bigger than just what's going on in my personal life. I can feel myself changing, becoming more peaceful and less worrisome. I'm much less irritable (especially at work), and most of the rest of my life seems to be falling into place. I know this is God at work.

Everyone always says we learn from our mistakes. One of my favorite quotes lately is a Brett Dennen lyric: "Failure keeps you humble / And leads us closer to peace." (I'm pretty obsessed with Brett Dennen right now and highly recommend checking him out. I wouldn't call him a Christian artist, but he is quite insightful.) I truly think I'm starting to understand the purpose behind everything in the past year and a half, but I'm having trouble figuring out where to go from here. I'm making God the center of my life in a way I've never been able to reach before. I'm turning to Him every time I stumble or feel hopeless. I'm doing my best to turn my life over and stop trying to control the outcome.

I feel like the life I once had and any chance to restore it are slipping away. At the same time, I'm feeling more and more convinced that I have more work to do to correct my past mistakes before I'll ever be able to move forward - no matter what direction. The only problem is, although he says we're still "friends," I don't think I can even convince him to talk to me. I feel like everything had to happen the way it did to get me to this point, but I can't quite grasp why my ex and I couldn't have met in the middle before completely swapping positions. And if I'm truly giving my fears and problems to God, I don't know if I'm supposed to fight to get him to listen to me, or just continue to pray and wait quietly.

So I guess right now I'm just struggling with how to deal with my pain. Jen suggested I see a counselor at the church, and I think I'm going to take that advice. It's exhausting to start the whole story all over again, but it's more exhausting to live on the verge of a panic attack.