I Can Set Up a Wireless Network (!!!)

Before I launch into today's post, I have to list a couple of things that I'm pretty proud of that got left off my original Things I Can Do list: I can kill a spider. This doesn't mean I like to or that I won't ask someone else to do it for me, but dang it, I can. Also, I can navigate they NYC subway system well enough to get from almost anywhere in Manhattan to the New York Presbyterian Hospital and back again. By myself.

Moving on ...

My big Christmas present this year (so big it had to be a joint present from my parents and myself) was a laptop. It came last week, and I already had my wireless router on hand and ready to set up. However, you know how sometimes you get in your head that you just can't do certain things, so much that you don't even want to try? Setting up wireless was one of those things that sounded about as do-able as walking into a cafe in Paris and ordering lunch. So I asked for help.

Three men, two Mediacom reps and several hours later, it was still not set up. I was ready to call the router a lemon and take it in for exchange today when I decided to give it one last shot. It still wasn't easy - I spent about an hour - but you know what? I did it. So no offense to my tech support team, but I'm sitting here on my couch typing this because I made it happen. It pays to push yourself to try something new. (I have a feeling God might be laughing a bit at the irony of the situation.)

I need to go get groceries and pick up a Redbox, but instead I'm reading my favorite blog, listening to the beautiful music that accompanies it and sipping chai from my favorite mug. Sometimes the little things are worth celebrating.

Thank you, once again, for the outpouring of love following my last entry. I know I've been neglecting all of your blogs and not updating this one as much as I'd like. No more excuses since I've solved that whole wireless problem. Up next: that New Year's Resolution, finally.

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

A Very Steward Christmas

(Working title: Stuck at an airport on Christmas Eve with nothing to do.)

‘Twas the night before Christmas

And Mark’s flight was late

Already a long day,

It was scheduled for eight.

We climbed in the Rav

Which was packed up with care

In hopes that the snow

Wouldn’t keep us from there.

The flakes were falling

And covered the trees

The setting was perfect

For sleds and for skis.

And Mom in her sweater

And Dad in his cap

I settled down in the backseat

For a two-hour nap.

When down in my tummy

Arose such a clatter,

My dad turned around

And asked what was the matter?

My stomach, I said,

And gave it a rub

Ok, said my dad,

Let’s stop for some grub.

When what, to our wondering eyes should appear

But a black SUV, with no lights in the rear!

My dad’s a good driver

So lively and quick

He avoided a crash,

Even though it was slick.

He whistled and honked and called them a name

Turn on your lights! Watch where you’re going! We could have been killed!

Imagine if that had happened

Before our tummies were filled!

At that very moment

We looked to the sky

And noticed the snow

Had now passed us by.

So up to the truck stop

To Wendy’s we went

In true Steward fashion,

Eight dollars we spent.

Back on the road

We flew down the interstate

To meet Mark at the airport,

We couldn’t be late.

And then, in an instant

We saw KCI.

We parked for twelve dollars

And went on inside.

Not a vendor was open

Though the terminal we scoured

So we found a big lounge

And sat for two hours.

We waited and waited

And waited some more

When suddenly he appeared –

We were at the wrong door!

He was dressed in all blue

In a sweater and jeans

We raced down to greet him

Oh what a scene!

A bundle of clothes

He had slung on his back

His suitcase he rolled

We wouldn’t need the luggage rack.

His eyes, how they twinkled,

His dimples so merry!

His cheeks were like roses,

His nose like a cherry!

He was cheerful and smiling

A right jolly young elf

I laughed when I saw him

In spite of myself.

With one sweep of his arm

He hugged me so cozy

The rest of the passengers

Looked at us, nosy.

We sprang to the car

To Jeff City! We cried.

We didn’t make it home by midnight

Though steadfastly we tried.

Per family tradition

We each opened one gift

An ornament for me, coffee beans for him

‘Tis the season, our spirits did lift.

Our family together

An occasion so dear

But wait just a second

Doug is not here!

Our eyelids so heavy

The night was still creeping

We’ll call him in the morning

He’s probably sleeping.

We pulled in my driveway

And they drove out of sight

Merry Christmas to all

And to all a good night!

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.