Umbrella Drinks in the Fire

Annoyingly, the rollercoaster is still in full swing. I feel like a pendulum Tarzan slamming from one extreme mood to another. Okay, well, that euphoric part of the manic is a bit elusive lately, but nonetheless. DESPITE THE MOOD PENDULUM TELEPORTATION, I know things are getting better...I am getting better.

First of all, I have really missed my mom this week. Like I told a friend of mine, I don't think I have really been congnizant of grieving Mom in the last 3 1/2 months. I've missed her, but I haven't grieved. This week I grieved. This week, my heart felt broken, and the tears fell with just the mention of her. That Is huge because it means the pain from the divorce is not so great that I find the grief of Mom's death too much. I am now stable enough with the divorce to address the emotions of losing Mom.

Of course, that also means I just swapped rollercoaster rides. Yeehaw.  

I'm also thinking through things faster and not getting lost in the pain, I think. In the last week a few things have slammed me really hard, and I've cried a lot, hurt a lot, but I've also prayed a lot, been still a lot, listened a lot, and thought a lot more clearly. And each time I've walked away from the "trigger" calmer, more focused, more...sure. I won't say I have a swagger in my step, but I do have a smile on my face.

And once again, I am able to see myself as a shaper of our future, not just someone trying to survive a helluva rough seven months, but someone who will flourish and have an amazing life. I can choose that. I'm not a victim. I am a visionary with determination and peace.

Oh, believe me, I am fully aware that tomorrow you could walk in and find me sobbing on my bedroom floor again. If so, just set the Kleenex box beside me. Feel free to sit down with me and wait it out or close the door behind you when you leave. Either is fine because today is good. Right NOW is good...in that "been through the fire and am still there but I'm learning how to enjoy an umbrella drink while I'm here" sort of way. :-)

Close to Home

Drove seventy-five miles to pick up our poodle Fluff at the vet today. I've known Dr. Larry Tisdale my whole life, seriously. He was my folks' vet when they showed and raised Walker Coon Hounds.

While we were talking, we talked about Rob and me. When I left, Larry hugged me, which he's never done, and just held me there a moment and said, "Honey, it's hard and it's painful, and I'm sorry you are going through this, but I'll be praying for you."

It was one of those "breathing" moments when you can't quite go home again...but you get close enough to feel the comfort...

Knowing

I grew up in church, there every time the doors were open, even when we were sick and there was no heater. I memorized verses. Sang hymns. Prayed at the old wooden altar, knees on the hard wood floors. I don't remember ever doubting there is a God, and I thought I knew God.

But the God I've seen in the last year is unlike anything I've ever known or experienced before.

I have been in awe of His power. I have been overwhelmed by His greatness.

Now I am undone by His gentleness.

I have never experienced such compassion or kindness in my whole life. It is as though He has stepped from His high throne as King and wrapped Himself in a towel...and I never understood. I am sure I don't understand now...but for the first time, I am beginning to know that He really does...

And while I am left thinking I do not know this God who is so patient in simply being with me...for me...I am mystified by the completeness of His knowing me.

Sometimes It Takes A Mental Adjustment

I have those days when a variety of elements combine to be annoying and a bit heavy. When those happen, I take a deep breath and mutter, "Time to put on the big girl panties." Then I mentally choose them.

Today, I'm thinking leather with small zippered pockets with silver zippers. Big girl bra to match. For some reason I feel the need to pull out my pump action Nerf shotgun. :-)

Beauty in the Desert

God is amazing, isn't He? That way He takes the desert and puts the most wildly amazing spots of beauty in it that just make me hunger for what it on the other side so I keep moving forward and refuse to be distracted by the mirages that the enemy sets around me. Oh...He takes my breath away...
--Facebook post, January 23, 2011

Milk and Honey

It is now 12:34 am, and the children are in their beds again. It's an emotional night with them really missing their dad. Usually, they see him on Thursday nights, but due to weather concerns that didn't happen. The change in schedule has raised the awareness of Daddy being gone back to the forefront of Favorite Boy's thoughts and emotions. It didn't take Wonder Girl long to join the snuggle pile on the couch.

Nights like this are really hard for me. On one hand, I want to cry because it makes me sad for the children, and when Wonder Boy's voice breaks as he says, "I miss you and Dad being together," my heart breaks, too. Then I get angry because I think the divorce is stupid and unnecessary. It is selfishness at its most unconsionable. However, I don't break into sobs, and I don't throw their dad under a bus. Instead, I speak tenderly and assure them I am here, I have no intention of going anywhere. I tell them again that some days are hard but it is going to get easier, it is easier, and we are okay.

I'm not sure what "okay" looks like, but the hope of it seems to make things better...for them and me.

In my mind, I try to remember that we are in one doozy of a desert right now but the Promised Land is out there. I don't really know what that looks like for us, but I know it is a good place. For the Israelites that was literal. What about us? What does milk and honey look like when you are trying to put your life back together?

Milk--Milk is nurturing, the food a mother gives a baby. It is filled with all the food, nutrients, and provision a baby needs to thrive.

Honey--Sweet, useful for a variety of food items. A teaspoon of local honey everyday can reduce allergies and help one breathe better. It's produced from flowers by worker bees.

While I don't know exactly what the Promised Land looks like or how it will manifest, I know God will nurture us there, and He will give us what we need to thrive. He will fully provide for us as His children. It will be sweet, with beauty around us. It'll be a place we can breathe, and we will have purpose and be productive.

The Promise Land is a good place, a good place indeed, and the God who is going to get us there is with us even now, in the desert...and even now I see the nurturing and the provision, enjoy the sweet moments filled with beauty. Even now, we are breathing...have purpose...are growing...

Even now He is keeping His promise...even now, we really are okay...

The Courage of a Dandelion

I love dandelions. In a field or in my yard. I love them. Bright yellow paint drops on a green canvass, standing out, looking happy, making me smile. Yep. I love them.

I love how the tiny drip of sun becomes a bundle of wishes waiting to happen. Oh, I know. It's superstition to assume my wish will come true if all those little seeds explode into the air just because I can breathe hard enough to send them flying. However, I belief Breath is what gives life, and potential cannot be achieved while clinging to the old. It takes courage to change, to believe in what one can be.

I love that about dandelions.

I know other folks don't like them. They see weeds, bothersome little plants that don't fit into the box of beautiful homes and gardens. Those people can't get beyond established definitions of beautiful or useful or acceptable. Somewhere someone told them dandelions are bad, and they believed...and sadly for them, they are missing the wonder and the beauty...and the freedom to dream of something more.

As for me, I pray to be a dandelion, the bright spot standing out among the status quo and the perfectly manicured. I pray to grow even where I am not understood or even wanted, and I pray I am never afraid to give up what I am for the potential of what I can be. I pray I always have the kind of courage...

...The courage of a dandelion.