Saturday was difficult. We showed the house to prospective buyers first thing that morning. My house looked beautiful. It made me ache to realize again that I'm losing it.
Then we attended Aidan's last soccer game, and the after-party. As we sat at a table - Ian, Dani, Darren, and me - things seemed so normal, as if nothing had ever changed. Except that EVERYthing has changed. I began to get teary, so I abruptly left and walked to the car where I let myself cry. Darren appeared a minute or two later and said, "I'll leave so you can go back in." He was trying to be kind, but it pissed me off. "No, one of us needs to be in there to support Aidan," I said. "Go back in." I took another three or four minutes, then collected myself and went back in myself.
I just want him to be remorseful. I want him to say he's sorry. I want him to acknowledge my pain, and the kids' pain. I HATE THAT HE CARRIES ON AS THOUGH WE'RE A NORMAL HAPPY FAMILY.
At the same time, I'm glad he's being kind. I'm glad we don't fight. I'm grateful that he doesn't embarrass me or humiliate me in public. He is, after all, still a good and kind man. He just happens to not love me anymore. I just want him to say he's sorry for the many years of hurt and especially for the current devastation. Is that stupid? I don't care. It's want I need. It's what I want. I need some sort of emotional closure.
That evening, I began packing for the move. As I stood in the family room looking at our family portraits and wondering how to store those until the kids might want them someday, someone rang the doorbell. It was two young adults - college-aged, probably. They were nicely dressed. The girl wore a cute spring dress that hit just above her knees, and the guy wore hipster jeans with a button-down shirt. I opened the door, and they beamed. The guys said, "Hi. We're part of a big group who's out today canvassing the city praying for people. Is there anything we can pray with you about?"
I was a tad cynical. I guess they could tell, because immediately, the girl added, "We're not selling anything, not preaching anything. We just want to pray with people who need prayer. Can we pray for you?"
I released the tightness in my shoulders and said, "Yes. You can pray for my husband. He's decided to leave our family. Pray for him to be the man God called him to be 21 years ago."
The guy spoke again. "We would love to pray for your husband. Do you have kids?" I told him about all three of them. He asked for my name. Then he said, "Stacy, do you think it was a coincidence that we showed up today?"
"Nope," I answered. "Not a coincidence." He smiled.
Then the two of them held hands, took my hands in theirs, and in a circle of three on my front porch, we prayed. The guy prayed for Darren. He prayed for my kids. He prayed for me. He prayed for marriages all over the world. He asked God to continue to carry us. Of course, I had tears when it was over.
And that was it. They thanked me for blessing them with the opportunity to pray, and were on their way.
Back inside the house, I walked into the computer room where Ian was playing. "Ian, the coolest thing just happened..." I began.
He interrupted me. "I know. I heard. I got on my knees while he prayed."
Coincidence? Nope. Not at all.
Monday, April 30, 2012
telling the masses
I've always lived my life out loud. By that I mean that I've always been an open book - transparent and honest. It's been a little weird to keep so many secrets for the last few months.
But it's time to start letting people know.
I started small, with this blog, an email, and the people I trust most in the whole world.
Then along the way, I added a few more people here and there, as I felt more certain that this was going to be a permanent situation. Last week, I shared the news with even more people - a group of girlfriends I spend two weekends with each year and have chatted with online for 12+ years - my scrapbooking friends from across the state and beyond. I will be seeing many of them this coming weekend and I didn't want there to be any whispering about "did you hear about Stacy and Darren...", so I decided it was time to share.
Every time someone new finds out, the support I receive overwhelms me. It makes me weep every time, because I am reminded that I AM loved, I AM cherished, I AM loveable, I AM worthy of the promises God has promised me. I haven't yet regretted sharing the news. Everyone reminds me that yes, Darren DID love me, and this is his new truth, but not THE truth. It always helps to hear other people say that.
But now I'm faced with a decision I need help with. Facebook. I've thought all along that I would wait for Darren to change his relationship status before I say anything public, but I'm beginning to rethink that. (His bio currently states that he's been happily married for 19 years. It's been 21. ha)
The boys and I are moving this week. As I continue to share my life, it will become obvious that something has changed. A lot of people know, but obviously not everyone does. Most people don't, actually. I don't want there to be any gossip behind the scenes. I don't want there to be questions - people always assume that the truth is worse than it really is when there are questions. I think I want to state very simply and very frankly what is happening. Maybe something like this:
It is difficult to share this very personal news, but the time has come to let you all know. Facebook seems a rather odd way to share it, but I'd rather you hear it from me than through the grapevine. Darren has decided to divorce me. He doesn't love me anymore, and believes now that he never did. We are working through this very amicably, but it still breaks my heart. The boys and I are moving this week to a rental nearby, and our house will be going on the market very soon. The kids and I are hopeful and joyful in spite of the circumstances - proof that God is real and is walking with us through this heartache. Please hold us in prayer as we transition to this new way of life.
There are a bunch of people who need to know - people who would be hurt to find out later. People are going to be hurt either way, but... I need for them to hear it from me.
Advice, please.
But it's time to start letting people know.
I started small, with this blog, an email, and the people I trust most in the whole world.
Then along the way, I added a few more people here and there, as I felt more certain that this was going to be a permanent situation. Last week, I shared the news with even more people - a group of girlfriends I spend two weekends with each year and have chatted with online for 12+ years - my scrapbooking friends from across the state and beyond. I will be seeing many of them this coming weekend and I didn't want there to be any whispering about "did you hear about Stacy and Darren...", so I decided it was time to share.
Every time someone new finds out, the support I receive overwhelms me. It makes me weep every time, because I am reminded that I AM loved, I AM cherished, I AM loveable, I AM worthy of the promises God has promised me. I haven't yet regretted sharing the news. Everyone reminds me that yes, Darren DID love me, and this is his new truth, but not THE truth. It always helps to hear other people say that.
But now I'm faced with a decision I need help with. Facebook. I've thought all along that I would wait for Darren to change his relationship status before I say anything public, but I'm beginning to rethink that. (His bio currently states that he's been happily married for 19 years. It's been 21. ha)
The boys and I are moving this week. As I continue to share my life, it will become obvious that something has changed. A lot of people know, but obviously not everyone does. Most people don't, actually. I don't want there to be any gossip behind the scenes. I don't want there to be questions - people always assume that the truth is worse than it really is when there are questions. I think I want to state very simply and very frankly what is happening. Maybe something like this:
It is difficult to share this very personal news, but the time has come to let you all know. Facebook seems a rather odd way to share it, but I'd rather you hear it from me than through the grapevine. Darren has decided to divorce me. He doesn't love me anymore, and believes now that he never did. We are working through this very amicably, but it still breaks my heart. The boys and I are moving this week to a rental nearby, and our house will be going on the market very soon. The kids and I are hopeful and joyful in spite of the circumstances - proof that God is real and is walking with us through this heartache. Please hold us in prayer as we transition to this new way of life.
There are a bunch of people who need to know - people who would be hurt to find out later. People are going to be hurt either way, but... I need for them to hear it from me.
Advice, please.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Blessings, part 3: The House
The night Darren told me he was filing for divorce, I told him that if that was the case, I wanted him to move back into our house and I'd find a place for me and the boys to live. He has a million and a half unfinished projects to finish before we can sell the house, and we'd already discussed that we'd have to sell the house. He agreed. I immediately set out to find a suitable place for us to live.
My only criteria were that is have two bedrooms, and that it be in our school district. I don't want to uproot the boys' lives any more than I have to, and keeping them in Lily B and near their friends (and MY friends) was of the utmost importance to me. But the pickin's are slim in our neighborhood when it comes to rentals. I called on several, and the prices were way more than I could pay. In some cases, they were more expensive than our mortgage payment. There's no way I could do that.
I looked at a couple of properties. One was almost affordable, but was a complete dump. I'd have been scared to live there. The other was nicer, but would've cost half my monthly take-home, and it didn't have a spec of yard. (And since we're getting a DAWG...) I was getting discouraged. I considered the possibility of renting a 1-bedroom apartment and me sleeping on the sofa.
And then one morning, I went a different route than I ever go. I took Park Place down to University, past the zoo. I never go that route. And on the way, I noticed a sign in a side yard that said, "Luxury Duplex for Lease. Dogs Welcome." SIGN NUMBER 1. (Yes, a literal sign. haha! But a figurative one, too.)
I turned on to the street to get a look at the house from the front. My heart sank. Yet another place I wouldn't be able to afford. But then I thought, "Maybe the duplex is in the back yard." So I parked and called.
The duplex is the entire 2nd floor. 1500 square feet. 2 bedrooms. 2 baths. Private entrance and yard. And IN MY COMFORTABLE PRICE RANGE. Unreal. I couldn't believe my ears. I almost cried. I made an appointment to see the place that evening. SIGN NUMBER 2.
The boys went with me. They were nervous but excited. I was worried about my bad credit, which is a horrendous marriage story I haven't (and probably won't) talk about here. I reminded the boys to be on their best behavior. Ian reminded me that they always are. (Uh-huh.)
The Landlord asked me where I work, what I do there, and how long I've been in that position. I answered, and she said, "Let me show you the place." That was the extent of my credit check. SIGN NUMBER 2.
The place is gorgeous - just my style. Hardwoods throughout. Fireplace with black tile and beautiful wood surround/mantel. Cool architectural details and moldings. MORE CLOSET SPACE than we have in our entire house! A garage space for my car. A DOGGIE DOOR.
"Oh! A doggie door!" I exclaimed. "I was worried about how we could have a dog on the second floor and not be home all day."
"You have a dog?" asked the landlord.
"No, not yet, but we're getting one," I said.
"What kind?" she inquired.
"I don't know yet. But I've promised the boys a dog to help us with this transition."
"Well, I'll tell you what," she said. "I love dogs and every boy deserves a dog. I won't4. charge you a pet deposit." SIGN NUMBER 3.
"This is where the washer/dryer hook-up is," she said as she pointed to a corner of the kitchen. "Do you have a washer/dryer?"
"I do," I began. "But I'm not sure I'll end up with it...."
"Tell you what. I have one that just needs to be repaired. I'll get it fixed and have it moved up here for you."
SIGN NUMBER 4.
I wrote a check that night.
We move in the weekend of May 4.
Well, "we" is misleading. I won't be there.
I had a girls' weekend planned already. I was about to cancel it when Dani talked me out of it. She insists on moving me FOR me while I go play with glue and paper with my friends. I protested, but eventually, she won by saying, "Mom. It's going to be so hard for you to leave your dream house. To see your life dismantled like that. You need to just go away and come back to your apartment all set up for you to live in."
The next day, LivingSocial ran a deal for 2 movers, a truck, and 2 hours. I bought it.
SIGN NUMBER 5.
The landlord is painting the accent walls in my color choice - "Harmonious" by Behr. It's a beautiful, soothing light blue with a hint of teal.
Isn't that fireplace gorgeous? It has an outlet on top. Can't wait to decorate for Christmas in here. :)
Master bedroom with bath. I'm giving this one to the boys. They can pee it up all they want and it won't have to be the bathroom guests use. Except for their friends. They're friends will be required to use this one, too. hahahaha
Both bedrooms are a good size - 13x13.
My bedroom. Two closets. Might make more sense for the boys to have this room because of that, but wait... one closet for clothes, and one for.... MY ART SUPPLIES. WOO HOO!!
I ordered loft beds from Walmart for the boys' room. We're condensing two boys' bedrooms, a playroom and a computer room into one. The loft beds will help. So will the fact that they purged a buttjillion toys last week. :) I'm happy to have a space for my art stuff, too. Didn't think I'd get to have that. :)
The kitchen is dinky. That'll take getting used to. But it's doable. The door opens to a staircase that leads to our own backyard, separate from the landlord's backyard. (She lives on the first floor.)
I'll hang my pot rack above the dishwasher in front of that window. It'll help some with storage. Also, the hot water heater closet is in the kitchen, with plenty of shelving inside for the giant junk like big serving pieces, crock pot, etc.
Looking from the kitchen door through the dining room. There's room here for a round table, my kitchen dresser and matching armoire (more storage. yay!). On the left side of the room is a nice-sized corner where I can put my desk/computer/office area. Maybe an easel. Perfect. :)
The house is closer to school than ours. It's closer to three of the boys' best friends than ours. It's within spitting distance from the zoo. In fact, word on the street is that we'll be able to hear the lion's roar. SIGN NUMBER 6. :)
My only criteria were that is have two bedrooms, and that it be in our school district. I don't want to uproot the boys' lives any more than I have to, and keeping them in Lily B and near their friends (and MY friends) was of the utmost importance to me. But the pickin's are slim in our neighborhood when it comes to rentals. I called on several, and the prices were way more than I could pay. In some cases, they were more expensive than our mortgage payment. There's no way I could do that.
I looked at a couple of properties. One was almost affordable, but was a complete dump. I'd have been scared to live there. The other was nicer, but would've cost half my monthly take-home, and it didn't have a spec of yard. (And since we're getting a DAWG...) I was getting discouraged. I considered the possibility of renting a 1-bedroom apartment and me sleeping on the sofa.
And then one morning, I went a different route than I ever go. I took Park Place down to University, past the zoo. I never go that route. And on the way, I noticed a sign in a side yard that said, "Luxury Duplex for Lease. Dogs Welcome." SIGN NUMBER 1. (Yes, a literal sign. haha! But a figurative one, too.)
I turned on to the street to get a look at the house from the front. My heart sank. Yet another place I wouldn't be able to afford. But then I thought, "Maybe the duplex is in the back yard." So I parked and called.The duplex is the entire 2nd floor. 1500 square feet. 2 bedrooms. 2 baths. Private entrance and yard. And IN MY COMFORTABLE PRICE RANGE. Unreal. I couldn't believe my ears. I almost cried. I made an appointment to see the place that evening. SIGN NUMBER 2.
The boys went with me. They were nervous but excited. I was worried about my bad credit, which is a horrendous marriage story I haven't (and probably won't) talk about here. I reminded the boys to be on their best behavior. Ian reminded me that they always are. (Uh-huh.)
The Landlord asked me where I work, what I do there, and how long I've been in that position. I answered, and she said, "Let me show you the place." That was the extent of my credit check. SIGN NUMBER 2.
The place is gorgeous - just my style. Hardwoods throughout. Fireplace with black tile and beautiful wood surround/mantel. Cool architectural details and moldings. MORE CLOSET SPACE than we have in our entire house! A garage space for my car. A DOGGIE DOOR.
"Oh! A doggie door!" I exclaimed. "I was worried about how we could have a dog on the second floor and not be home all day."
"You have a dog?" asked the landlord.
"No, not yet, but we're getting one," I said.
"What kind?" she inquired.
"I don't know yet. But I've promised the boys a dog to help us with this transition."
"Well, I'll tell you what," she said. "I love dogs and every boy deserves a dog. I won't4. charge you a pet deposit." SIGN NUMBER 3.
"This is where the washer/dryer hook-up is," she said as she pointed to a corner of the kitchen. "Do you have a washer/dryer?"
"I do," I began. "But I'm not sure I'll end up with it...."
"Tell you what. I have one that just needs to be repaired. I'll get it fixed and have it moved up here for you."
SIGN NUMBER 4.
I wrote a check that night.
We move in the weekend of May 4.
Well, "we" is misleading. I won't be there.
I had a girls' weekend planned already. I was about to cancel it when Dani talked me out of it. She insists on moving me FOR me while I go play with glue and paper with my friends. I protested, but eventually, she won by saying, "Mom. It's going to be so hard for you to leave your dream house. To see your life dismantled like that. You need to just go away and come back to your apartment all set up for you to live in."
The next day, LivingSocial ran a deal for 2 movers, a truck, and 2 hours. I bought it.
SIGN NUMBER 5.
Isn't that fireplace gorgeous? It has an outlet on top. Can't wait to decorate for Christmas in here. :)
Both bedrooms are a good size - 13x13.
My bedroom. Two closets. Might make more sense for the boys to have this room because of that, but wait... one closet for clothes, and one for.... MY ART SUPPLIES. WOO HOO!!
I ordered loft beds from Walmart for the boys' room. We're condensing two boys' bedrooms, a playroom and a computer room into one. The loft beds will help. So will the fact that they purged a buttjillion toys last week. :) I'm happy to have a space for my art stuff, too. Didn't think I'd get to have that. :)
The kitchen is dinky. That'll take getting used to. But it's doable. The door opens to a staircase that leads to our own backyard, separate from the landlord's backyard. (She lives on the first floor.)
I'll hang my pot rack above the dishwasher in front of that window. It'll help some with storage. Also, the hot water heater closet is in the kitchen, with plenty of shelving inside for the giant junk like big serving pieces, crock pot, etc.
Looking from the kitchen door through the dining room. There's room here for a round table, my kitchen dresser and matching armoire (more storage. yay!). On the left side of the room is a nice-sized corner where I can put my desk/computer/office area. Maybe an easel. Perfect. :)
The house is closer to school than ours. It's closer to three of the boys' best friends than ours. It's within spitting distance from the zoo. In fact, word on the street is that we'll be able to hear the lion's roar. SIGN NUMBER 6. :)
conflicted
I went to hear Paige Henderson (HeartQuest founder) speak about Rebekah (of Bible fame) last week. I love the way Paige teaches. She delves in to the stories and then goes deeper, bringing the characters to life before your very eyes. She has an amazing ability to make characters in the Bible live and breathe and spill coffee on their pants just like you and I do. They're so much more than just characters when Paige presents them.
So Rebekah offered water to Isaac's servant at the well, and then offered to water his camels as well. His TEN camels. Camels drink a lot of water, so Paige dove in and figured out just how much. Ten gallons. Each. That's 100 gallons of water. She dove in and researched and learned that a generic water pot would've held about 4 gallons. So... that's 25 trips to the well for those 10 camels. The point is that Rebekah was generous - with her time, with her kindness, with her water. And then Paige asked, "What do you need to go back to the well for more of? Because it'll never run out. You need kindness? You think you're all out of it? Yeah. But God's not. Go back to the well and get more. You need patience? God's got plenty and He'll share it. Go get more. What do you need to keep giving? What do you need to be generous with? This isn't about money. It's about your heart, your soul, your spirit. Ask God right now what He wants you to keep coming back to the well for more of. He'll tell you. When he does, raise your hand so I'll know you got an answer.
So I asked. "God, hey what's up. I'm headed to the well. What do you want me to fill up on? What do you want me to give more of?"
I heard my answer immediately.
But I didn't like it, so I didn't raise my hand.
"No, no, seriously," I thought. "Heh heh. What do you want me to give more of, really?"
He told me again. Same answer.
"Ah, well, can we talk about this, God? Because I'm sure you'd like to see me show more forgiveness. Have more patience. I know I need to be more generous with my time."
Again, he spoke the words I didn't want to hear right into my heart.
"Keep. Loving. Darren."
I wrinkled my nose, bit the inside of my cheek, and folded my arms across my chest.
I didn't like this one bit. I never did raise my hand.
See, just last week, I told myself it was okay to let him go.
I prayed for and fought for my marriage. I was valiant and strong through my fear and brokenness. I showed compassion, forgiveness, and unwavering love - more during the past few months than ever in my life. I was willing to work on and fix the issues I brought to the marriage. But Darren wasn't. He is convinced he's never loved me and can't continue to live a lie, so he's gone. Its done. Nothing I can do about it. I needed to let him go. Truthfully, he's making it pretty easy for me to let him go. It felt amazingly good to give myself permission to stop loving him.
But let me clarify. I'll always love him. He was my best friend, my soul mate, and my partner in life for 21 years. I can't just chuck that out the door and pretend it never happened. But continuing to LOVE him just hurts. Immensely. It felt good to say, "It's okay. I don't have to love him. I can let him go."
And then God said, clear as day, "Keep loving Darren."
Hmph.
Then Sunday's sermon was about hearing God. I don't have a problem hearing and listening. God speaks to me through DOGS, for crying out loud. Through music, and Scripture, and laughter, and the touch of a cool breeze on my sun-kissed forehead. I talk to God all the time, and He to me. But never, never, not once, has He told me something I didn't like.
Until now.
I'm very conflicted, and I can't stop thinking about it.
Coincidentally, Darren filed for divorce last week, and I put my lawyer on retainer today. With Darren's credit card. He offered to pay for the whole thing, which should end up costing between $7- and $10,000. THIS kind of spending from a man who I've always described as frugal, but who is really just cheap. He won't spend money on much. But to get rid of me? He didn't hesitate. He's even paying my half. Which is only fair since I never wanted this in the first place. I'm counting it as a blessing.
But I don't want to keep loving him.
I can be kind.
Compassionate, even.
I can love him as a brother, as a friend, as the father of my children. That I can do.
But I'm telling you that God didn't tell me to do that. I know what he meant. KEEP LOVING DARREN.
God help me.
I don't want to.
So Rebekah offered water to Isaac's servant at the well, and then offered to water his camels as well. His TEN camels. Camels drink a lot of water, so Paige dove in and figured out just how much. Ten gallons. Each. That's 100 gallons of water. She dove in and researched and learned that a generic water pot would've held about 4 gallons. So... that's 25 trips to the well for those 10 camels. The point is that Rebekah was generous - with her time, with her kindness, with her water. And then Paige asked, "What do you need to go back to the well for more of? Because it'll never run out. You need kindness? You think you're all out of it? Yeah. But God's not. Go back to the well and get more. You need patience? God's got plenty and He'll share it. Go get more. What do you need to keep giving? What do you need to be generous with? This isn't about money. It's about your heart, your soul, your spirit. Ask God right now what He wants you to keep coming back to the well for more of. He'll tell you. When he does, raise your hand so I'll know you got an answer.
So I asked. "God, hey what's up. I'm headed to the well. What do you want me to fill up on? What do you want me to give more of?"
I heard my answer immediately.
But I didn't like it, so I didn't raise my hand.
"No, no, seriously," I thought. "Heh heh. What do you want me to give more of, really?"
He told me again. Same answer.
"Ah, well, can we talk about this, God? Because I'm sure you'd like to see me show more forgiveness. Have more patience. I know I need to be more generous with my time."
Again, he spoke the words I didn't want to hear right into my heart.
"Keep. Loving. Darren."
I wrinkled my nose, bit the inside of my cheek, and folded my arms across my chest.
I didn't like this one bit. I never did raise my hand.
See, just last week, I told myself it was okay to let him go.
I prayed for and fought for my marriage. I was valiant and strong through my fear and brokenness. I showed compassion, forgiveness, and unwavering love - more during the past few months than ever in my life. I was willing to work on and fix the issues I brought to the marriage. But Darren wasn't. He is convinced he's never loved me and can't continue to live a lie, so he's gone. Its done. Nothing I can do about it. I needed to let him go. Truthfully, he's making it pretty easy for me to let him go. It felt amazingly good to give myself permission to stop loving him.
But let me clarify. I'll always love him. He was my best friend, my soul mate, and my partner in life for 21 years. I can't just chuck that out the door and pretend it never happened. But continuing to LOVE him just hurts. Immensely. It felt good to say, "It's okay. I don't have to love him. I can let him go."
And then God said, clear as day, "Keep loving Darren."
Hmph.
Then Sunday's sermon was about hearing God. I don't have a problem hearing and listening. God speaks to me through DOGS, for crying out loud. Through music, and Scripture, and laughter, and the touch of a cool breeze on my sun-kissed forehead. I talk to God all the time, and He to me. But never, never, not once, has He told me something I didn't like.
Until now.
I'm very conflicted, and I can't stop thinking about it.
Coincidentally, Darren filed for divorce last week, and I put my lawyer on retainer today. With Darren's credit card. He offered to pay for the whole thing, which should end up costing between $7- and $10,000. THIS kind of spending from a man who I've always described as frugal, but who is really just cheap. He won't spend money on much. But to get rid of me? He didn't hesitate. He's even paying my half. Which is only fair since I never wanted this in the first place. I'm counting it as a blessing.
But I don't want to keep loving him.
I can be kind.
Compassionate, even.
I can love him as a brother, as a friend, as the father of my children. That I can do.
But I'm telling you that God didn't tell me to do that. I know what he meant. KEEP LOVING DARREN.
God help me.
I don't want to.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Blessings, part 2: the job
Four years ago this month, I was working at home as a professional scrapbooker. I was just back from a scrapbooking trip to the Midwest, and gearing up for another trip to Cape Cod. I was published in a scrapbooking design book, was wrapping up my last job for a sorta-famous client, and was busy with a few local jobs as well. It wasn't making me rich, but it was fun and fulfilling, and it brought in enough money to provide grocery and fun money for the family. Plus, it allowed for free travel. Life was good.
Then two things happened to bring an end to that fledgling career.
First, Darren had his affair and in the aftermath, blamed my travel for his being lonely. (I was gone a total of 22 days over the course of four months. Six of those were with the boys at summer camp, where I was the craft lady.) He asked me to stop traveling, so I did, cold turkey. I even cancelled a paid trip to Aspen that August where I was to sit with a new client for three days and help her sort through years of photos that I would then bring home to scrap. I was sad to lose that opportunity, but it was the least I could do to save my marriage, and I was desperate to save my marriage. I thought, "I can still be successful at this business and not travel. I don't have to teach at retreats. I don't have to go to exotic places to meet clients."
Second, the country started swirling around in the Economic Toilet of Doom. I stayed busy for another year or so, but that fall, two brand new clients cancelled on me in the same week - one in California, one in Nebraska. Both of their husbands had been laid off, and as it should have been, paying someone to scrapbook for them was the first thing to go from their budgets. I knew that I'd likely lose more clients before it got better and certainly, I'd have a hard time attracting new ones. Darren and I talked about me getting a job. With Dani in her senior year and both boys in elementary school, the timing was right for me to get back out there. I worried that I'd end up at Target at best.
At the same time, I needed a distraction from the heartache of Darren's affair, so I threw myself in to volunteering at Fortress, specifically in the realm of communications and fundraising. After our first auction and dinner that fall, the then-Executive Director called me and said, "I'm sitting here in Terri's office, and we want to know if you'd consider coming in every day if we could pay you to do this." I didn't hesitate to say yes. He said, "Don't you want to talk to Darren about it?" I said nope. It was done. I had a job. The next day, I broke my foot. ;-)
That little Fortress job was exactly what I needed. It absolutely filled an empty part of my soul. I was good at it, and I loved it. But more importantly, it mattered. It allowed me to make a difference for a cause and a ministry I already felt so passionate about. Win, win, win. I worked 40 hours a week, but was only paid for 20 of them, and at only $12 an hour. But I was okay with that. I figured it was just like volunteering, except now I was getting paid for half of my volunteer time. I was okay with the salary. I was just happy to be working. Not a week went by that I didn't elicit rogue eye rolls from my coworkers in our staff meetings, because not a week went by that I didn't remind them how blessed I felt to be working here, how I knew it was a God thing, and how I wouldn't take it for granted.
Then, a year or so later, a new budget allowed for me to be paid a full-time salary. It still wasn't much, but I was ecstatic. I continued to learn about the nonprofit sector and realized that I'd finally, at the age of 40, found my calling in life. I KNEW WHAT I WANTED TO BE WHEN I GREW UP! I immersed myself in webinars and books and conferences and every other opportunity I could find to learn more about grant writing and fundraising and communications in general. I got better and better at what I do, and more self-assured. Then last January, I got an unexpected raise. A nice chunk of change, thanks to Terri who slipped it in to the budget. :).
Eventually, I cancelled my last remaining scrapbook customer. I donated most of my scrapbooking excess. I repurposed the scraproom into the boys' computer room. And I continued to learn and grow in my new career, loving every minute of it, and never forgetting that God handed it to me on a silver platter.
Last week, I was rewarded again. This time, the raise is enough to make it possible for me to support myself and my boys. It's huge. It's life-changing. I'm still not rich, and never will be. I'll still have to lower my standard of living without Darren's salary added to the mix. But I'm secure, and I can do this on my own now. I received word of my raise on Thursday morning. That night, Darren announced his decision to file for divorce. Imagine that.
Four years ago, I made fun money, and had no way of earning an actual living. Four years later, I have a career. Not a mere job, but a career. Not a mere paycheck, but a purpose. Not a simple nine-to-five, but a passion. And I still tell people that God gave it to me. He is faithful to fulfill his promises. He told me once (or a thousand times) in Jeremiah 29:11 that he knows the plans he has for me - plans to prosper me, not to harm me. Plans to give me hope, and a future.
That hope is here. The future is now. Four years ago, God looked into my future and said, "I know the plans I have for her." And he set them in motion.
I will never forget it. I will honor Him for this blessing for the rest of my life.
oh - and you know what? He's honoring me, too. In February, I was beside myself with grief. I was using the tools I acquired at HeartQuest to move through it, but it was still almost paralyzing. Some days, just falling out of bed and into a new change of clothes for the day was a victory. Showing up at my office was a feat. Actually accomplishing work was nothing short of miraculous. I thought I wouldn't survive February, either personally or professionally. I had four huge grants due that month. I couldn't write them. I learned that our "sure-thing" grant wasn't such a sure thing after all, and if we got it, it likely wouldn't arrive until April. (Coincidentally, it arrived today!) The board (my bosses) approved an emergency fundraising campaign to get us through the crunch, which I had just days to organize and execute.
And I was in a fog. I'd sit at my desk and stare at my laptop. Often, I sat there with silent tears streaming down my face. I tried to force myself to care about the grants, but I couldn't focus. So I decided that I had to look at it as obedience (I'm a big-time rule-follower, you know). I would be obedient to my job. If I failed, NO one would get paid. Fortress would have to close. I had to make us some money.
It didn't work. I still couldn't focus.
So as a last resort (WHY is this always my last resort???), I decided to let go and let God. I prayed for my grants. I asked God to give me the desire to write them. I asked him to help me see it as obedience to HIM for giving me this job and entrusting me with this mission. And I wrote. And wrote. And wrote.
I will tell you this truth: the grants I wrote in February were garbage. The words are there on the pages, but they lack passion. The need is there, but it lacks spark. The ask is there, but it lacks urgency. The February grants were far, far, far from my best work. But they were done. I was obedient to God. And you know what? He honored that. One grant I wrote that month brought in $28,000. (I asked for $36,000.) Another grantor awarded $48,200. (I asked for $48,200.) The Emergency Campaign brought in $18,000. We'd hoped for $25,000, but only needed $10,000 to get us through the crunch. A grant I wrote for $25,000 made it to the prestigious second round. God continues to honor my February.
What a blessing this job has been and continues to be for me.
I'm telling you, my God - YOUR God - is cool. Man, I love God! <3
Then two things happened to bring an end to that fledgling career.
First, Darren had his affair and in the aftermath, blamed my travel for his being lonely. (I was gone a total of 22 days over the course of four months. Six of those were with the boys at summer camp, where I was the craft lady.) He asked me to stop traveling, so I did, cold turkey. I even cancelled a paid trip to Aspen that August where I was to sit with a new client for three days and help her sort through years of photos that I would then bring home to scrap. I was sad to lose that opportunity, but it was the least I could do to save my marriage, and I was desperate to save my marriage. I thought, "I can still be successful at this business and not travel. I don't have to teach at retreats. I don't have to go to exotic places to meet clients."
Second, the country started swirling around in the Economic Toilet of Doom. I stayed busy for another year or so, but that fall, two brand new clients cancelled on me in the same week - one in California, one in Nebraska. Both of their husbands had been laid off, and as it should have been, paying someone to scrapbook for them was the first thing to go from their budgets. I knew that I'd likely lose more clients before it got better and certainly, I'd have a hard time attracting new ones. Darren and I talked about me getting a job. With Dani in her senior year and both boys in elementary school, the timing was right for me to get back out there. I worried that I'd end up at Target at best.
At the same time, I needed a distraction from the heartache of Darren's affair, so I threw myself in to volunteering at Fortress, specifically in the realm of communications and fundraising. After our first auction and dinner that fall, the then-Executive Director called me and said, "I'm sitting here in Terri's office, and we want to know if you'd consider coming in every day if we could pay you to do this." I didn't hesitate to say yes. He said, "Don't you want to talk to Darren about it?" I said nope. It was done. I had a job. The next day, I broke my foot. ;-)
That little Fortress job was exactly what I needed. It absolutely filled an empty part of my soul. I was good at it, and I loved it. But more importantly, it mattered. It allowed me to make a difference for a cause and a ministry I already felt so passionate about. Win, win, win. I worked 40 hours a week, but was only paid for 20 of them, and at only $12 an hour. But I was okay with that. I figured it was just like volunteering, except now I was getting paid for half of my volunteer time. I was okay with the salary. I was just happy to be working. Not a week went by that I didn't elicit rogue eye rolls from my coworkers in our staff meetings, because not a week went by that I didn't remind them how blessed I felt to be working here, how I knew it was a God thing, and how I wouldn't take it for granted.
Then, a year or so later, a new budget allowed for me to be paid a full-time salary. It still wasn't much, but I was ecstatic. I continued to learn about the nonprofit sector and realized that I'd finally, at the age of 40, found my calling in life. I KNEW WHAT I WANTED TO BE WHEN I GREW UP! I immersed myself in webinars and books and conferences and every other opportunity I could find to learn more about grant writing and fundraising and communications in general. I got better and better at what I do, and more self-assured. Then last January, I got an unexpected raise. A nice chunk of change, thanks to Terri who slipped it in to the budget. :).
Eventually, I cancelled my last remaining scrapbook customer. I donated most of my scrapbooking excess. I repurposed the scraproom into the boys' computer room. And I continued to learn and grow in my new career, loving every minute of it, and never forgetting that God handed it to me on a silver platter.
Last week, I was rewarded again. This time, the raise is enough to make it possible for me to support myself and my boys. It's huge. It's life-changing. I'm still not rich, and never will be. I'll still have to lower my standard of living without Darren's salary added to the mix. But I'm secure, and I can do this on my own now. I received word of my raise on Thursday morning. That night, Darren announced his decision to file for divorce. Imagine that.
Four years ago, I made fun money, and had no way of earning an actual living. Four years later, I have a career. Not a mere job, but a career. Not a mere paycheck, but a purpose. Not a simple nine-to-five, but a passion. And I still tell people that God gave it to me. He is faithful to fulfill his promises. He told me once (or a thousand times) in Jeremiah 29:11 that he knows the plans he has for me - plans to prosper me, not to harm me. Plans to give me hope, and a future.
That hope is here. The future is now. Four years ago, God looked into my future and said, "I know the plans I have for her." And he set them in motion.
I will never forget it. I will honor Him for this blessing for the rest of my life.
oh - and you know what? He's honoring me, too. In February, I was beside myself with grief. I was using the tools I acquired at HeartQuest to move through it, but it was still almost paralyzing. Some days, just falling out of bed and into a new change of clothes for the day was a victory. Showing up at my office was a feat. Actually accomplishing work was nothing short of miraculous. I thought I wouldn't survive February, either personally or professionally. I had four huge grants due that month. I couldn't write them. I learned that our "sure-thing" grant wasn't such a sure thing after all, and if we got it, it likely wouldn't arrive until April. (Coincidentally, it arrived today!) The board (my bosses) approved an emergency fundraising campaign to get us through the crunch, which I had just days to organize and execute.
And I was in a fog. I'd sit at my desk and stare at my laptop. Often, I sat there with silent tears streaming down my face. I tried to force myself to care about the grants, but I couldn't focus. So I decided that I had to look at it as obedience (I'm a big-time rule-follower, you know). I would be obedient to my job. If I failed, NO one would get paid. Fortress would have to close. I had to make us some money.
It didn't work. I still couldn't focus.
So as a last resort (WHY is this always my last resort???), I decided to let go and let God. I prayed for my grants. I asked God to give me the desire to write them. I asked him to help me see it as obedience to HIM for giving me this job and entrusting me with this mission. And I wrote. And wrote. And wrote.
I will tell you this truth: the grants I wrote in February were garbage. The words are there on the pages, but they lack passion. The need is there, but it lacks spark. The ask is there, but it lacks urgency. The February grants were far, far, far from my best work. But they were done. I was obedient to God. And you know what? He honored that. One grant I wrote that month brought in $28,000. (I asked for $36,000.) Another grantor awarded $48,200. (I asked for $48,200.) The Emergency Campaign brought in $18,000. We'd hoped for $25,000, but only needed $10,000 to get us through the crunch. A grant I wrote for $25,000 made it to the prestigious second round. God continues to honor my February.
What a blessing this job has been and continues to be for me.
I'm telling you, my God - YOUR God - is cool. Man, I love God! <3
Monday, April 9, 2012
Blessings, Part 1: the joy
I think I said this in my very first post: I am a joyful person by nature.
Sometimes, even in the midst of this grief/anger/hope maelstrom that I'm swirling in, I find myself feeling joyful. It sometimes seems odd, so odd, in fact, that sometimes I check myself to make sure I'm not also drooling and dragging one foot behind me and having conversations with birds. You know - fallen-clean-off-the-deep-end kind of odd.
It occurs to me that many people who know me right now are people who've only known me in this stage of my life. They only know the shell of the joyful girl I am inside. They can't know how vibrant and hopeful and optimistic and passionate I really am. That bothers me a little.
But even now, I laugh. I crack jokes. I listen to happy music. I refuse to wallow. I'm productive. I'm not only surviving, I'm thriving.
This sucks. IT SUCKS. But in the midst of The Huge Suck, God keeps on giving me joy. I know it's from Him because it makes no sense otherwise. And besides... God is love. Love breeds joy. I love God. Therefore, God and I together make Joy. Is that the corniest thing I've ever said? No. What I almost wrote instead was cornier, I promise. (If God and I hooked up and had a baby, the baby would be Joy. See? Cornier. And maybe a little sacrilegious. Yikes.) (Yes, I went there. I blame it on The Suck.)
When Paul and Silas were imprisoned (Stripped, beaten, and thrown into an inner dungeon. This wasn't an American county jail, peeps.), they rejoiced. They actually sang. I want to be that kind of person. I want to be so confident in my freedom and in my GOD JOY that my singing echoes off the dungeon walls!
Last night, I had a little chat with the boys about us having to move out of our house. They asked why we had to. I explained that we can't afford to have two houses and have one of them be our big, beautiful house. Ian said, "I thought you loved this house." It is, I said. It's our dream house. This is the house God gave us. I've told that story a million times. It was more house than I ever wanted or dreamed I could have, but it became ours anyway, and I love it. It's the house Darren and I would grow old in. It's the house the kids would grow up and bring our grandkids to on Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter and the 4th of July.
When I said that, Ian began to cry. Aidan cleared his throat and said, "We're reading a book in school and it says that there can be no rose without thorns. That's trying to say that life comes with troubles."
"In this world, you will have trouble. But be of good cheer - I have overcome the world!" - Jesus
Be of good cheer. Choose to live in joy. Sounds good to me. :)
Sometimes, even in the midst of this grief/anger/hope maelstrom that I'm swirling in, I find myself feeling joyful. It sometimes seems odd, so odd, in fact, that sometimes I check myself to make sure I'm not also drooling and dragging one foot behind me and having conversations with birds. You know - fallen-clean-off-the-deep-end kind of odd.
It occurs to me that many people who know me right now are people who've only known me in this stage of my life. They only know the shell of the joyful girl I am inside. They can't know how vibrant and hopeful and optimistic and passionate I really am. That bothers me a little.
But even now, I laugh. I crack jokes. I listen to happy music. I refuse to wallow. I'm productive. I'm not only surviving, I'm thriving.
This sucks. IT SUCKS. But in the midst of The Huge Suck, God keeps on giving me joy. I know it's from Him because it makes no sense otherwise. And besides... God is love. Love breeds joy. I love God. Therefore, God and I together make Joy. Is that the corniest thing I've ever said? No. What I almost wrote instead was cornier, I promise. (If God and I hooked up and had a baby, the baby would be Joy. See? Cornier. And maybe a little sacrilegious. Yikes.) (Yes, I went there. I blame it on The Suck.)
When Paul and Silas were imprisoned (Stripped, beaten, and thrown into an inner dungeon. This wasn't an American county jail, peeps.), they rejoiced. They actually sang. I want to be that kind of person. I want to be so confident in my freedom and in my GOD JOY that my singing echoes off the dungeon walls!
Last night, I had a little chat with the boys about us having to move out of our house. They asked why we had to. I explained that we can't afford to have two houses and have one of them be our big, beautiful house. Ian said, "I thought you loved this house." It is, I said. It's our dream house. This is the house God gave us. I've told that story a million times. It was more house than I ever wanted or dreamed I could have, but it became ours anyway, and I love it. It's the house Darren and I would grow old in. It's the house the kids would grow up and bring our grandkids to on Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter and the 4th of July.
When I said that, Ian began to cry. Aidan cleared his throat and said, "We're reading a book in school and it says that there can be no rose without thorns. That's trying to say that life comes with troubles."
"In this world, you will have trouble. But be of good cheer - I have overcome the world!" - Jesus
Be of good cheer. Choose to live in joy. Sounds good to me. :)
playlist
Been working on a playlist that will surely become my best friend.
It's not sad. It's almost entirely upbeat. On good days, it'll be affirming . On hard days, it'll be empowering. :)
And in a quirky sort of way, it tells my story.
Enjoy. If you're on Spotify, look me up and it's yours. :)
1. White Blank Page (Mumford and Sons)
Tell me now where was my fault in loving you with my whole heart?
You desired my attention but denied my affections.
2. Who Knew (Pink)
I took your words and I believed everything you said to me. If someone said three years from now you'd be gone, I'd stand up and punch them out 'cause they're wrong. I know better, 'cause you said forever and ever. Who knew.
3. Piece of My Heart (Janis Joplin)
Didn't I make you feel like you were the only man? And didn't I give you everything that a woman possibly can?
4. That's All (Genesis)
Just when I thought it was going alright, I find out I'm wrong when I thought I was right. It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all. I could say day, you'd say night. Tell me I'm wrong when I know that I'm right. It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all.
5. Stop Draggin' My Heart Around (Stevie Nicks w/ Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers)
It's hard to think about what you've wanted. It's hard to think about what you've lost. This doesn't have to be the big get even. This doesn't have to be anything at all.
6. Over You (Daughtry)
Well I never saw it coming. I shoulda started running a long, long time ago. And I never thought I'd doubt you, but I'm better off without you, more than you know.
7. The Sign (Ace of Base)
Life is demanding without understanding. I saw the sign. No one's gonna drag you up, lift you into the light where you belong.
8. Time for Me to Fly (REO Speedwagon)
I've swallowed my pride for you - lived and lied for you - but you still make me feel like a thief. You got me stealing your love away because you never give it.
9. I Will Survive (Gloria Gaynor)
Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I. I will survive. As long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive. I've got all my life to live, and I've got all my love to give. I will survive.
10. Fighter (Christina Aguilera)
How could this man I thought I know turn out to be so unjust, so cruel? Could only see the good in you, pretended not to see the truth. Makes me that much stronger. Makes me work a little bit harder. Makes me that much wiser. Thanks for makin' me a fighter.
11. Forget You (CeeLo Green)
Despite the pain in my chest, I still wish you the best, but ...forget you.
12. Survivor (Destiny's Child)
I'm wishin' you the best, pray that you are blessed. I'm not gonna compromise my Christianity. I'm a survivor. I'm not gon' give up. I'm not gon' stop. I'm gon' work harder. I'm a survivor. I'm gonna make it.
13. Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You) (Kelly Clarkson)
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stand a little taller. Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone.
14. Somebody That I Used To Know (Gotye)
Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over. Part of me believing it was always something that I'd done. But I don't wanna live that way, reading into every word you say.
15. Don't Look Back (Boston)
I can see - it took so long just to realize. I'm much too strong not to compromise. Now I see what I am is holding me down. I'll turn it around.
16. The Cave (Mumford and Sons)
But I will hold on hope. And I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck. And I'll find strength in pain and I will change my ways. I'll know my name as it's called again. 'Cause I have other things to fill my time. You take what is yours and I'll take mine. Now let me at the truth which will refresh my broken mind. I know my call despite my faults and despite my growing fears. But I will hold on hope....
17. I'm Still Standing (Elton John)
I'm still standing better than I ever did. Lookin' like a true survivor, feelin' like little kid. I'm still standing after all this time, picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.
18. Goodbye to You (Patty Smyth with Scandal)
I remember the good times baby now, and the bad times too. These past few weeks of holding on - the days are dull, the nights are long. Guess it's better to say goodbye to you.
19. I Choose (India.Arie)
Today I decided to let it all go. I'm dropping my bags, I'm making room for my joy. And I choose to be the best that I can be. I choose to be authentic in everything I do.
20. Feeling Good (Nina Simone)
It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me. And I'm feelin' good.
It's not sad. It's almost entirely upbeat. On good days, it'll be affirming . On hard days, it'll be empowering. :)
And in a quirky sort of way, it tells my story.
Enjoy. If you're on Spotify, look me up and it's yours. :)
1. White Blank Page (Mumford and Sons)
Tell me now where was my fault in loving you with my whole heart?
You desired my attention but denied my affections.
2. Who Knew (Pink)
I took your words and I believed everything you said to me. If someone said three years from now you'd be gone, I'd stand up and punch them out 'cause they're wrong. I know better, 'cause you said forever and ever. Who knew.
3. Piece of My Heart (Janis Joplin)
Didn't I make you feel like you were the only man? And didn't I give you everything that a woman possibly can?
4. That's All (Genesis)
Just when I thought it was going alright, I find out I'm wrong when I thought I was right. It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all. I could say day, you'd say night. Tell me I'm wrong when I know that I'm right. It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all.
5. Stop Draggin' My Heart Around (Stevie Nicks w/ Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers)
It's hard to think about what you've wanted. It's hard to think about what you've lost. This doesn't have to be the big get even. This doesn't have to be anything at all.
6. Over You (Daughtry)
Well I never saw it coming. I shoulda started running a long, long time ago. And I never thought I'd doubt you, but I'm better off without you, more than you know.
7. The Sign (Ace of Base)
Life is demanding without understanding. I saw the sign. No one's gonna drag you up, lift you into the light where you belong.
8. Time for Me to Fly (REO Speedwagon)
I've swallowed my pride for you - lived and lied for you - but you still make me feel like a thief. You got me stealing your love away because you never give it.
9. I Will Survive (Gloria Gaynor)
Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I. I will survive. As long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive. I've got all my life to live, and I've got all my love to give. I will survive.
10. Fighter (Christina Aguilera)
How could this man I thought I know turn out to be so unjust, so cruel? Could only see the good in you, pretended not to see the truth. Makes me that much stronger. Makes me work a little bit harder. Makes me that much wiser. Thanks for makin' me a fighter.
11. Forget You (CeeLo Green)
Despite the pain in my chest, I still wish you the best, but ...forget you.
12. Survivor (Destiny's Child)
I'm wishin' you the best, pray that you are blessed. I'm not gonna compromise my Christianity. I'm a survivor. I'm not gon' give up. I'm not gon' stop. I'm gon' work harder. I'm a survivor. I'm gonna make it.
13. Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You) (Kelly Clarkson)
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stand a little taller. Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone.
14. Somebody That I Used To Know (Gotye)
Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over. Part of me believing it was always something that I'd done. But I don't wanna live that way, reading into every word you say.
15. Don't Look Back (Boston)
I can see - it took so long just to realize. I'm much too strong not to compromise. Now I see what I am is holding me down. I'll turn it around.
16. The Cave (Mumford and Sons)
But I will hold on hope. And I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck. And I'll find strength in pain and I will change my ways. I'll know my name as it's called again. 'Cause I have other things to fill my time. You take what is yours and I'll take mine. Now let me at the truth which will refresh my broken mind. I know my call despite my faults and despite my growing fears. But I will hold on hope....
17. I'm Still Standing (Elton John)
I'm still standing better than I ever did. Lookin' like a true survivor, feelin' like little kid. I'm still standing after all this time, picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.
18. Goodbye to You (Patty Smyth with Scandal)
I remember the good times baby now, and the bad times too. These past few weeks of holding on - the days are dull, the nights are long. Guess it's better to say goodbye to you.
19. I Choose (India.Arie)
Today I decided to let it all go. I'm dropping my bags, I'm making room for my joy. And I choose to be the best that I can be. I choose to be authentic in everything I do.
20. Feeling Good (Nina Simone)
It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me. And I'm feelin' good.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Hindsight
As we rode the elevator to the top of the Stratosphere, I slid my hand into the pocket of my black slacks and jingled the rings about. Then I slipped them on- both of them on my ring finger. I grinned when it dawned on me that happy coincidence allowed it to be my left hand. We took our seats at a table beside the floor-to-ceiling windows and ordered lunch. The Las Vegas Strip snaked its way across the city hundreds of feet below us. We picked out our hotel from our arial vantage point, and then as the restaurant continued its revolution, the mountains, the suburbs, The Pawn Stars shop. Our meal was delectable. The view, spectacular. I felt for the rings again, as if to make sure they were still there.
It had been a long time since either of us wore our wedding rings. I'd outgrown mine about 3 years into our marriage and back then, the small expense of having them resized was out of the question. Besides- doing so would be a sign of planning to keep the weight on forever, and I never intended to do that. A few years later, he dislocated his finger playing football and managed to rip the ring off before the swelling made it impossible. After the finger healed, the knuckle was misshapen, and the ring wouldn't slip over it. Not wearing rings wasn't a big deal to us. It bothered me a little bit, because the romantic side of me liked the symbolism. But the practical side of me knew that the rings didn't qualify our marriage as real anymore than our lack of rings indicated that it wasn't. And besides- neither of us were big jewelry people. We'd purchased the least expensive rings available- partly because we were poor, but also because we're just practical, frugal people.
But things had changed. We were celebrating our 20th anniversary. Three years prior, he'd fallen in love with another woman. It nearly destroyed me, but we weathered the storm and managed to come out of it without casualty. It had been a hard two years of putting it behind us and trying to move forward. There had been a lot of broken promises during that process, and I was still trying to heal. I decided a month earlier to buy new rings for us- to illustrate to him that I was still committed to him, that I believed in him. I wanted to start our second decade together with a renewed commitment. I bought costume jewelry, knowing he'd hate for me to spend much. But I chose carefully. My ring was silver with a 1/2-carat sized round-cut "diamond" solitaire. The band featured tiny pieces of cut glass on either side of the setting. I thought it was gorgeous.
His ring was a simple silver band with the words "Man of God" etched into it. It was my way of saying "I trust you again". It would also serve as a reminder to him of whose He was.
I had planned to present the rings at our anniversary dinner at the top of the Stratosphere. I knew what I would say. It would be a simple and intimate renewal of the vows we'd made in college- just the two of us and God. But as I fingered them in my pocket, it just didn't feel right. I decided it was because there were too many people around. Hours later, after watching the sun set over the mountains and seeing the Strip wake up with twinkling lights in the shadow left behind, I knew it was time. I pulled the rings out of my pocket and closed my fist around them. I sat down beside him on the hotel room bed, where he'd already logged on to his laptop. "Look at me," I said softly, with a smile and a hint of the giddiness I'd felt on the elevator earlier. He glanced up.
"I got you a present," I said. That got his attention and he looked at me expectantly. I opened my hand to reveal the two rings.
"I want us to renew our vows tonight," I continued. "I want to show you that I'm in this for the long haul, because I love you. I need you to know that I trust you and believe in you. And I want us to start wearing rings again." I started to place the ring on his finger, but he stopped me. He took the ring in his hand and looked at it.
"I won't wear this," he said.
"What? Really? Why?" I asked.
"I don't really like it," he answered.
"You don't like the ring? Do you not like that it has words on it?"
"I don't like the style."
"It's just a simple band, like your other one."
"No, it's thicker than my other one. I don't like it."
I showed him mine. He said it wasn't anything he would've picked for me. And that was that. He turned his attention back to his laptop, and I died a little more inside.
It had been a long time since either of us wore our wedding rings. I'd outgrown mine about 3 years into our marriage and back then, the small expense of having them resized was out of the question. Besides- doing so would be a sign of planning to keep the weight on forever, and I never intended to do that. A few years later, he dislocated his finger playing football and managed to rip the ring off before the swelling made it impossible. After the finger healed, the knuckle was misshapen, and the ring wouldn't slip over it. Not wearing rings wasn't a big deal to us. It bothered me a little bit, because the romantic side of me liked the symbolism. But the practical side of me knew that the rings didn't qualify our marriage as real anymore than our lack of rings indicated that it wasn't. And besides- neither of us were big jewelry people. We'd purchased the least expensive rings available- partly because we were poor, but also because we're just practical, frugal people.
I had planned to present the rings at our anniversary dinner at the top of the Stratosphere. I knew what I would say. It would be a simple and intimate renewal of the vows we'd made in college- just the two of us and God. But as I fingered them in my pocket, it just didn't feel right. I decided it was because there were too many people around. Hours later, after watching the sun set over the mountains and seeing the Strip wake up with twinkling lights in the shadow left behind, I knew it was time. I pulled the rings out of my pocket and closed my fist around them. I sat down beside him on the hotel room bed, where he'd already logged on to his laptop. "Look at me," I said softly, with a smile and a hint of the giddiness I'd felt on the elevator earlier. He glanced up.
"I got you a present," I said. That got his attention and he looked at me expectantly. I opened my hand to reveal the two rings.
"I want us to renew our vows tonight," I continued. "I want to show you that I'm in this for the long haul, because I love you. I need you to know that I trust you and believe in you. And I want us to start wearing rings again." I started to place the ring on his finger, but he stopped me. He took the ring in his hand and looked at it.
"I won't wear this," he said.
"What? Really? Why?" I asked.
"I don't really like it," he answered.
"You don't like the ring? Do you not like that it has words on it?"
"I don't like the style."
"It's just a simple band, like your other one."
"No, it's thicker than my other one. I don't like it."
I showed him mine. He said it wasn't anything he would've picked for me. And that was that. He turned his attention back to his laptop, and I died a little more inside.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Keep Going
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rein it in
Chris was here with the boys while Darren and I had our meeting, and stayed (at my request) when Darren came over to tell the kids. Afterward, he said to Darren, "You're going to get a lot of backlash for this. From family, from friends, from your church. No one is going to support this." Darren said, "I know." Chris said later, "I don't think he does." I told him that some of you have been reining it in, not allowing yourselves to tell Darren what you really think. One of you has said that if we worked this out, you would pray that God could let you forgive Darren and love him again, and that even if you couldn't do it, you would fake it for my sake. But that if he left me, you'd give him a lashing like he'd never had before.
I'm asking you to rein it in a little longer.
Ever good with the advice, Chris sent me this email today:
If you can, try and reign in your friends a bit longer. My thought is that if the worst of what he's about to go through comes mainly or firstly from your friends it could jepordize your chances of a cordial divorce. Let his family/friends get to him first and let him get started down the road of an amicable divorce before he gets shredded by those close to only you.
It's true. I need this collaborative divorce to work. Once this thing is final, you have my permission to lash out all you want. Tell him what you think. Speak hard, cold truth to him. I doubt it'll penetrate, but it might. Just please wait until we survive this process. In the meantime, simply unfriend him on Facebook to avoid the temptation.
Thank you.
I'm asking you to rein it in a little longer.
Ever good with the advice, Chris sent me this email today:
If you can, try and reign in your friends a bit longer. My thought is that if the worst of what he's about to go through comes mainly or firstly from your friends it could jepordize your chances of a cordial divorce. Let his family/friends get to him first and let him get started down the road of an amicable divorce before he gets shredded by those close to only you.
It's true. I need this collaborative divorce to work. Once this thing is final, you have my permission to lash out all you want. Tell him what you think. Speak hard, cold truth to him. I doubt it'll penetrate, but it might. Just please wait until we survive this process. In the meantime, simply unfriend him on Facebook to avoid the temptation.
Thank you.
free falling
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I'm stunned. Free falling one minute, soaring the next. Then free falling again.
Yesterday's Jesus Calling was perfect, as it so often is. I'd fallen several days behind and didn't read it until today when Abbie read it to me. The highlighted part is especially amazing to me, in light of last night's events. It's pretty cool to read it today, knowing that "whatever this day may bring" was heartache that I didn't think I'd experience again. I really didn't. I really thought that if he decided it was over, I'd feel relief. I didn't. I thought that I wouldn't feel devastated again. I did. I thought he'd choose to honor our vows and to honor God. He thumbed his nose at both of those things. I am still reeling.We sat in Carraba's eating pasta and seafood. The conversation was pleasant. He asked about Fortress. I asked about his weekend trip that he took to "figure things out". I was preparing myself for him to tell me he wanted to come back home and try to work this out. My concern was that I would say no, not yet, you haven't made any changes - and that THAT would be dishonoring to God. But I think I knew deep down that he was already gone. I just didn't think the man I once knew would walk away so easily.
And because of what?? It's nothing I've done. Have I been the perfect wife? No. I have a mouth on me. It's my first line of defense against Darren. No one else has taken a lashing like he has. I admit that and I've repented of it. But I loved him. UNCONDITIONALLY. He is a hard, hard man to love. He's selfish, condescending, lazy, unmotivated, and prideful. He could list as many things about me that are hard to love. Can't we all? But those are the "for worses". For better or for worse. You love each other anyway.
He's leaving because he has convinced himself that he never loved me. Everyone who knows us and has ever known us knows that's not true. But it's true for Darren. He has to believe it to allow himself to leave.
He's leaving because he has convinced himself that he deserves passion. He defines his perfect passionate mate as someone who understands him and appreciates him and loves him, and someone who he understands and appreciates and can love. I said, "I used to be that for you." He replied tersely, "You were never that for me."
I asked him if there's someone else. He said no. I said, "Is there someone else you're interested in?" He said, "Hmmm.........no." I asked what that pause was supposed to mean. "Are you waiting to be free so you can pursue someone?" He said, "There are lots of people I could feel passionate toward. I deserve to be happy."
"I deserve to be loved," I said.
"Yes, you do," he answered. "And that's part of why I'm leaving you. I can't love you. I see lots of men who are attracted to you. I'm just not one of them."
I sat in the restaurant and begged God for words. None came. Well, they did. Lots of words came, but they weren't from God. So I finally said, "I don't have anything good to say, so I'm going to leave now." I gathered my purse and my confidence, and walked graciously out of the restaurant, past the window where he sat, to my car, around the corner, and then I let it go. I wept all the way home.
Twenty-one years.
Over.
I want to hate him, but I can't. I love him. And that pisses me off most of all.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Over
There is so much to say.
The only thing I have energy left to mutter is this:
Darren is filing for divorce.
I thought I couldn't ache more than I already have.
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