The Path of Most Resistance

Nobody said it was easy / No one ever said it would be this hard
-Coldplay

My first night in St. Louis included a 2 am wake-up call by tornado sirens. Huddled in my 5’10” basement, I watched as water seeped in and puddled on the floor. Tears welled up in my eyes. I hate tornadoes, and this was hard. Two hours later, I woke up again to the sound of hail hitting my already rattling windows.

A couple of days later, after my landlord finally installed my dryer, I was relieved to catch up on laundry. I had gotten all caught up before moving my first load to the new apartment, and after more than two weeks, I was out of everything. I ran down to pull out my towels and discovered … they hadn’t dried at all. My landlord came back and realized that the gas line wasn’t hooked up. The next time I used it, it was leaking gas. Over the next several uses, I learned that only one setting actually has heat, and it doesn’t shut off automatically. I should mention this all spanned about three weeks. To date, I haven’t gotten totally caught up. I don’t mind doing laundry, but this is hard.

When we tried to install my cabinet shelves, they didn’t all fit. The first time I used my dishwasher, it didn’t drain all the way. My antique lock broke, and I locked myself out overnight. My bathroom mirror was up so high, I could only see from my chin up. The first time I used my oven, it set off the smoke alarm. I loved the idea of a newly renovated apartment, but this was hard.

Once I learned to sleep through the rattling of my bedroom windows and the traffic on my street (which had appeared desolate when we first viewed the place), I was awakened by a whole new set of noises. Creaks, pops and groans seemed to echo through my house at random, all night. By the time I realized it was caused by the heating duct work of two apartments snaking across my basement ceiling, I had worked myself up to the point where I was lucky if I got five hours of uninterrupted sleep. Sleep had become stressful. Even knowing it was the heater, and that the noises were worst right after the heater turned off, every noise sounded like someone was in my back stairwell.

I sat on my bed and had Jeremie open and close both the front and the back door so I’d know what it sounded like. It sounded nothing like the noises at night. I slept about three hours that night. After waking up every hour the next night, I called Jeremie at 3:45 am, desperate for any distraction. He remarkably woke up, even though he’s the heaviest sleeper I know. Fifteen minutes into our phone call, someone tried to break into his house. I’m not even kidding. He heard two loud bangs on his front door, his dog went crazy, and he called the cops. Nothing else happened, but the next day we saw two muddy kick marks on his door.

I’ve wanted – so badly – for YEARS – to live in St. Louis. But man, this is freaking hard.

I finally said out loud what I’d been embarrassed to admit. When I lie in bed and hear those noises, even though I know it’s just the heater, my tired mind goes to ridiculous places. Here’s some example dialogue: I wonder why the last lady moved out of this apartment after 20 years. Maybe she died. Maybe she died in this apartment. Maybe she was murdered. Maybe that’s why my landlord renovated. Maybe she doesn’t like that I’m living here.

In case you’ve ever had thoughts like that, try telling them to someone else. Their reaction will help you realize how preposterous you sound. Those thoughts out of my head, my parents came to visit. They had several suggestions and ultimately loaned me a noisy fan. Finally, I’ve slept through a couple of nights now and I’m hoping I’m over it.

They say it’s not worth having if it’s easy. They say good things come to those who wait.

I could have chosen not to get a divorce. Say what you will about whether it was the right decision or not, but I definitely chose the hard way.

I could have skipped DivorceCare, but I wouldn’t have learned anything from my mistakes. I could have rushed into marriage with the first viable candidate and been past all of this a long time ago, but I would have ended up exactly where I started.

I could have stayed in Jeff City, but my life would have been stagnant. I could have looked at apartments in the suburbs, but that would have been giving in to fear. I could have moved in with Jeremie, sacrificing everything I’ve been trying to build within myself for the past two years. I chose the hard way.  

I believe that when you push yourself, you grow. When you choose the hard way, you learn more about yourself. When you deal with difficulty, you become more confident in your abilities.

When I started considering changing my life, I remember thinking that just thinking about it was hard. I had no idea what was ahead of me. I know I am changing. I am growing, and I am a different person than I was. I’m choosing to do things on my own. I’m making the life I want. Not because it is easy, but because it is hard.

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.

Dream Come True

Last night, I dreamed I was at a coworker’s house. She does live in the country, but in my dream, her house backed up to a beautiful, golden field of wheat. The sun was shining as a worker groomed the field. Then a second person showed up and started setting up white chairs. Suddenly, my throat tightened up. I asked Megan what was going on. She informed me that there was going to be a wedding in her backyard, and that she was sorry. I ran across her porch, terrified. When I turned around, I saw my ex at the other end of Megan’s house, dressed in a tuxedo. I ran around the corner before he could see me, and ran into a few of my sorority sisters. What was going on? Why were they there? Why was everyone betraying me?

Then I was across a creek from the house. There was a child floating down the creek, and I was afraid that the child was not okay. Some men in tuxes – I’m guessing groomsmen – rushed toward the child. I turned back to the house and screamed. “Don’t you see this is not okay? Don’t you see this isn’t what’s supposed to happen?” A crowd of people in dresses and suits turned their back to me and moved toward an altar.

I have vivid dreams fairy often, especially around times when there are big changes coming up in my life. However, this is the first dream that has turned out to be true once I woke up. Well, not the child in the creek, and not the betrayal by Megan and my friends. But still, I could hardly believe it when I learned I had dreamed part of it correctly.

I know some people are tired of hearing about this. If that’s you, then I advise you to stop reading.

I know it’s hard to understand how this can still affect me so deeply, considering all the good things I have in my life right now. Believe me, I’m still excited about them. Somehow these two parts of my life – past and present – are not mutually exclusive.

I know I have to let go and move on. I’m trying.

I know that everyone has pain, and that the pain is supposed to get better over time. But in moments like this, it still feels fresh.

I know he’s not the man I married anymore. But that doesn’t make me miss him, or his family, or his friends any less. It doesn’t cool the burn of my memories.

I knew this was coming. I didn’t want to know when, because I couldn’t face it. And I’ll be honest; I was hoping it wouldn’t happen. Maybe that makes me a terrible person.

Every time I end up in this place, I feel like a failure all over again. I look back at the choices I’ve made and wish desperately that I could change them. When you get married, God makes two into one. When you get divorced, there’s no clean break, because you’re ripping two halves apart. Some experts say you can’t really get divorced in God’s eyes, but that you remain married anyway. Every time I think seriously about moving forward with someone else, part of me feels ashamed and dirty. I’ll never understand how he was able to get past all of this so quickly.

I know I should be clinging to God tonight. But I have to think there’s a reason this happened on a weekend when I’m alone. So if you don’t hear from me again for a couple of days, just know that I’m doing the best I can.

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"

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.

Dear Lord,
Please take this pain away. It crushes me. I don't know what to do with it any more. I'm trying, I really am. I don't understand why I get my hopes up that he'll finally hear me. I don't know why I keep thinking he'll realize that it is possible to exist in each other's lives. I don't know why I keep hoping he'll acknowledge that we did have something - we were married. I don't know why it still feels like he has control over me. I don't know how to keep being nice when he gives me nothing in return. I can't sleep. I can't get anything done. I know this time is supposed to hurt and I know you have a plan, but please, help me let go.
Amen.

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.