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.

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.

Peace, Love & Happiness: A New Year's Resolution

I've often thought that if I were a teenager in the 70s, I would have been a hippie. I've always loved these three elements woven together and the idea that they can solve all the world's problems. Last year, my resolution was simply: To be happy. And there were definitely moments in which I succeeded. By the end of the year, I had a good grip on what it takes to make me happy. But I've also realized that you can't just "be happy." You have to constantly evaluate your life and the things in it and work on yourself and create happiness. You can't just have peace, love and happiness -- you have to work for them. So that's my 2011 resolution.

(If you'll indulge me, please listen to the corresponding songs as you read each section. I still haven't figured out how to get a playlist imbedded in here.)

Peace: Iron & Wine, "The Trapeze Swinger"
Although this one is first, it is possibly the hardest one for me. I'm not trying to solve world peace or anything, but just to find inner peace. To be at peace with what has happened in my life and where I am now. To forgive others. To forgive myself. To not be so upset over things I cannot control. To be more calm. To be patient for my life to be the way I want, and to understand that what I want isn't necessarily what I need or what I'll get. To spend more time talking to God, and perhaps more importantly, listening to Him.

My brother has been encouraging me to try yoga, and there's now a Yoga magazine lying on my coffee table, so I suppose that's a good starting place. It seems appropriate that this song selection comes from him as well. Please don't read anything into the slideshow that plays from the YouTube link - I just think it's an incredibly peaceful song. And I could be misinterpreting it, but it seems like the theme of the song is being at peace with life.

Love: JJ Heller, "What Love Really Means"
I want to love. Not just in the romantic sense, although it would be great if I could sort that all out this year. What I mean is that I want to love the way God loves. I've heard the term "God is love" so many times that it seems a bit trite. However, I recently heard a sermon that gave it some fresh meaning. God is love - think about that literally. When you feel love toward a friend, that's God moving through you. When you feel love for a family member, that's God. When you see a story on tv that touches your heart and you feel love, that's God. One of the most beautiful gifts God gives us is the ability to love, and it's also a direct interaction with Him! God loves us in spite of the times we ignore Him, defy Him or hurt Him. I want to love that way.

I've already used this to shift some of my energy. I took on some extra duties about a year ago that require me to deal directly with the people who raise money on our website. For the first several months, I was incredibly irritable. I didn't have time to deal with these people, and on top of that, I thought, they should have been able to figure out most of this stuff on their own. I was probably not very friendly with some of them. I would leave work angry. I would get so frustrated I'd sit in my cube and cry. I can't change the fact that they're calling or that they couldn't figure it out on their own. But what I can change is my reaction. Instead of being frustrated, I'm grateful that they're using our website to raise money. Instead of having a short temper, I force myself to smile and simply ask how I can help them. Instead of being irritated with them, I love them. What a difference this has made - suddenly, the people I'm talking to are also nicer! It's easier to solve their problems. Somehow the rest of my work is getting done in spite of the time I have to spend on the phone.

Happiness: Florence + The Machine, "Dog Days Are Over" 
I love the first line of this song: Happiness hit her like a train on a track. I first heard this song on the previews for Eat, Pray, Love. Since I'd already read the book, I immediately connected with the song and thought, "I want my life to sound like that." There were a lot of moments in 2010 where I found myself smiling all the way down to my heart for no reason, just happy - it truly did hit me like a train. While peace may be the goal I have the hardest time describing or figuring out how to work toward, I think happiness is the most elusive. I've also found pain and sorrow coming out of nowhere on an otherwise pleasant evening. I think what I've learned is that you have to let the hard times come, because they're inevitable. But if you can surround yourself with the things that make you happy, if you can focus on being happy, the hard times will come fewer and farther between. And when they do come, they'll be easier to work though.

I think I've mentioned Kelle Hampton's blog in about half of my posts here, and I've never even met her. Our lives aren't even very similar. However, she's got this great outlook on life: Live bigger, love better, enjoy the small things. She shared this story in a post about a month ago:

There is an ancient Native American story about an old Cherokee who told his grandson about the battle that goes on within us. "My son," he told him, "Inside every one of us dwells two wolves, one evil, one good. The evil one is angry and jealous, full of regret and arrogance, greed and sorrow, guilt and self-pity. The other is good. He is kind and loving, full of hope and peace, joy and compassion."

The young boy thought about it for a moment. "Which wolf wins?" he asked his grandfather.

The old Cherokee smiled and simply replied, "...the one you feed."

Kelle has inspired me to feed my good wolf. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be right now. I can't change anything that's happened in the past. But if I focus on peace, love and happiness, I can change my attitude. And maybe I can change where I'll be a year from now. And maybe I'll be closer to that life I want. Even if I'm not ... it will feel so much better.

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

If you can't be with the one you love, love yourself.

It's been a bittersweet few weeks. I've made some adjustments in my life (specifically to my Facebook settings) to hopefully prevent the almost weekly cry-my-eyes-out session I'd been experiencing. It has helped, and I have been strong about it, but it's also left me feeling pretty depleted. Rejection, letting go, accepting the end ... these are not things I do well.

However, there's also been some really good. Bible study is continuing to change my heart. I've been celebrating babies and friends and making progress at work. I can't say I've specifically done anything on my independence list, but I've been getting better at relying on God to love me and take me where I'm supposed to be. Again, I'm seeing that this is the path to happiness - not through any other person. I'm making my own happiness.

So, because this week I'm loving myself, it's time to celebrate Things I Can Do:
- Fly across the country
- Bake brownies from scratch
- Buy a car
- Try a new church by myself
- Decorate an apartment
- Take a picture of myself (thus the profile photo)
- Sing the states alphabetically
- Build an online fundraiser on our website (believe me, this is huge)
- Throw a baby shower
- Balance my checkbook
- Go to the gym alone
- Climb a (small) cliff
- Plan and run a ceremony for 4,000 people
- Drive for four hours (probably longer, but I haven't tried)
- Join a sorority - this was way outside my comfort zone at the time
- Jump in freezing water in the middle of February
- Ask for a table for one at a restaurant
- Score a lease on an amazing apartment

Finally, I'll close out this post with a lyric from "Heart of Life" by John Mayer. I am not a huge fan of his personally, but these words really hit home:

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it wont all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good

And an extra shout-out to my circle of friends for defending the silver lining. :)

I'm just going to let Coldplay do the writing for me today

Coldplay, "Fix You"

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Time for some happy

First of all, I have to thank everyone who sent me an encouraging note after my last post. I needed those, and they help more than I can describe. I am so blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life.

Since my last entry was a downer, I decided it's time to compile:

Things That Always Make Me Happy

• Puppies
• Babies, especially Audrey, Emery and Adalie
• My living room
• My ringtone
• The color green, and ...
• Eco-friendly, recycle-y things
• My silver Lia Sophia hoop earrings, because they dress up any outfit
• Stone Hill Concord red wine
• My new car
• Kelle Hampton's blog
• New episodes of Mad Men and Glee
• Watching Special Olympics athletes compete
• My brothers
• Guacamole
• Jimmy Fallon's Dance Your Hat and Gloves Off game
• Snail mail
• Cartoon monkeys
• Trips to Pier 1 and/or NY&Co.
• Catching my parents holding hands
• Decorating for fall
• This commercial (you may find it obnoxious, but I giggle every time)
• On that note, any commercial that is especially clever or silly or features really pretty music
• Monday night Bible study
• Mizzou BFF
• Blankets
• Losing myself in a new book
• Muppets/Sesame Street revivals
• Seeing something I've created in final form (usually this is printed pieces at work)
• Finding new songs and artists on my Pandora station
• Getting a new album of photos printed
• Stories of acceptance and inclusion
• Tastefully Simple's Oh My! Chai

So there. A long, but still incomplete list of things I can go to the next time I'm feeling down. Just in time for Thanksgiving, I'm hoping to count my blessings more often and spend time with the things that make me happy. As I heard recently, happiness is external; joy is internal. If I can manage to bring more happy around, surely I'll be more joyful.

What makes you happy?

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.