Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Tears and Dreams and Dreams and Tears although not necessarily in that order

I have truly come a long long way in the ability to even share my tears and vulnerabilities with another person. I never cried in front of anyone until I was 17 years old when my brother told me he was moving out of the house and I knew I was losing my best friend. As a kid my family was very dysfunctional and my mother's existence wreaked of fear, disappointment, heartache and disillusionment on a daily basis; Her hurt and suffering took her to a cognitive state so far away that she looks back on that period and regrets missing my childhood. To cope with the pain around me, I held tight, stayed strong, and I refused to show any emotion at all regarding my parent's relationship eventually leading to the divorce that took place when I was about 10. I didn't want to add to my mother's burdens and maybe I was afraid she wouldn't even notice my pain.  When I got a little bit older (maybe 12 or 13) I have a strong memory of my mom full out crying with me and I just hugged her and she cried. I never asked why she was sad, and I don't know if she even remembers that...but it really affected me, how I am not sure honestly...maybe I didn't want to put anyone thru watching me suffer or experiencing my grief if they did not have to. All this is to say, I've come a long way. When I got to college, I learned a lot about crying, in fact...there was no way I could have gotten through college without shedding some tears.

I am reading this great little find of a book called "God Never Blinks, 50 Lessons for Life's Little Detours" by Regina Brett; Chapters are short. I like that; One of her chapters is called  "Cry with Someone, It's more healing that crying alone," and I immediately thought of Mary Grace. She and I have cried together more times than I can count. And it's true, it is healing. I used to see crying as a severe flaw and weakness in people and now I embrace a good cry, especially the unexpected ones...when you haven't even been drinking...oh, those are good ones!

Last time we were together we listened to these lyrics that truly struck a cord in both of us for different reasons.

I was a little girl alone in my little world who dreamed of a little home for me. 
I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves, and laughed in my pretty bed of green. 
I had a dream 
That I could fly from the highest swing. 
I had a dream. 
Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be. 
The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep. 
I had a dream 
That I could fly from the highest tree. 
I had a dream. 
Now I'm old and feeling grey. I don't know what's left to say about this life I'm willing to leave. 
I lived it full and I lived it well, there's many tales I've lived to tell. I'm ready now, I'm ready now, I'm ready now to fly from the highest wing. 
I had a dream

A couple weeks ago I wondered what this meant for me, my only dreams had been thrown out and I've been waiting for a new one to come along in whatever form God would offer it.
Now, weeks later it has been revealed to me, and little pieces of my heart have become mine again, and I can recognize the warmth and precision of each beat. It's been awhile.
But now to share or not to share. I shared it with my sister today...something about sharing takes the magic out of a dream for me. It's not like sharing  a good day with someone which only magnifies and heightens your sense of greatness! But for me, it's like I'm giving away shares of that people who may or may not have a good reason to be invested in it. To me, the stakes are higher when more persons are in the know. But I wonder if that is true for all people.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011


The other day, a friend of mine mentioned that her lonely place is in her car, and another friend's in the shower...and agreed with her that mine is also in the car...for 4 months after my ex and i broke up, i dreaded those long car rides to and from work...45-50 minute drive each way seemed like god's way of torturing me even more...trying to fill the silence with something neutral, i couldn't listen to songs on the radio because they sang only about love and breaking songs were the worst. Initially, I would get into my car and immediately burst into tears...remembering my broken heart that my busy work day had pushed aside. All I could listen to was sara barailles  "kaleidescope" for 4-5 months over and over again.  My car was definitely my lonely place. It was the only place I could actually be alone and let it all out and be real.
But today it hit me, my lonely place is everywhere right now. I can't get away from the lonely, it's just a part of me now and I hadn't even known. Maybe it came from seeing him recently...I don't feel deep sorrow and angst and heartbreak like I did before, but just plain 'ol every day missing and lonely.  The end of every day feels like a sentence without a period. There is no one to listen to the recount of my day, to affirm my little successes, to validate that I got up and went to work and did a good job, or a bad job. I can't call him to say I got lost today and I just want to cry and I wish you were here to be strong for me. I just have to be strong alone, and give myself pep talks, and pat myself on the back, and it just feels kind of meaningless and hard at times. So maybe this blog is my phone call to him, or my phone call to somebody, anybody. Is this why we Blog, to place a period at the end of our sentences?

Wednesday, February 16, 2011


Saw my ex-boyfriend before he heads off to another country. Haven't been sure how to share that experience i haven't blogged until now.  The best word to describe the entire day is "comfortable", and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing really. I know I still love him, but I also know this is just one of those cards life hands us, and sometimes that means taking different paths, growing apart,  growing up, and if we are lucky...growing in love and old with someone else. I would be a liar if I didn't admit that some part of me has a heart pang or two after seeing him again since our break up. I even admit that I want him to change his mind and not go. I want the nicholas sparks story of tragic misfortunes and break ups that are dramatically rekindled and love almost feels like nicholas sparks is writing my story even now, but unfortunately I know this sad story will not be a best-seller, just another girl's misfortune of love lost.

Great song.
This is how my heart has felt the last couple of days...

Fathers, be good to your daughters, Daughters will love like you do

Just sitting here opening my Valentine's day card from my dad. He sends one every single year and it's probably the one memory I will remember with the most fondness. I save all of them, they mean so much, and I usually tear up. I don't always say great things about my dad honestly, I mean he is the person who will always hurt me the most, day in an day out, and who I will never hear an apology from. He was the source of a lot of my bitterness and cynicism as a teenager, although I hadn't connected the dots at that time. His role in my life continuously feeds the flame of my insecurities creating a severe inability to trust men, and an ever-so-guarded heart. When you live with these emotions daily it is only natural to become so unnaturally stoic and guarded with people. I'm deeply afraid to let men in because I've only felt rejection from my own father, never adding what that is, hmm well, I will never know...Any affirmation ever given no more than left his mouth that it turned sour, as if he regretted giving me a piece of hope. Over time I have just built up this thick skin when I am with him, unable to really engage in anything meaningful because it never sticks and my spirit is always crushed eventually. This leaves a mark on a girl after awhile. I have worked really hard at not letting my relationship with my father or his mistakes and regrets hang over my life like a banner that reads "bitter, mess up, not worth it." Because my Dad did make choices a long time ago without thinking about the effects it would have on his their twenties, and their thirties, and even their eighties...when he is long gone. And for these reasons I save every Valentine from him. Ironic isn't it. This year he sent me a card that says
"Thinking of a special you. You're a daughter to be proud of, for everywhere you go you always add some happiness, much more than you could know. And so this valentine for you seems just the time to say you're thought about with pride and love on each and every day."  And so one day, when I am 70 or eighty-something, I will remember that I was loved by my Dad, even though it hurt to be loved by him when he was living, but not on Valentines day. Valentine's was the 1 easy day in all 365...every year.
My sister and I recently confessed to each other our intrigue with little girls and their "daddy's." There is nothing sweeter than that relationship, and nothing more bitter sweet than to watch a little girl experience something I never had, and wonder how she will turn out. I always tear up when I see a moment pass between dad and daughter, and try to take in the experience myself hoping it will somehow heal broken places in my heart.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Technical difficulties

I don't think I have an accurate "He's the one" Radar. Mine is totally broken and it's taken a few tries to realize this. So sad. I didn't even know I was using a radar until i realized that it doesn't work and I somehow end up with the raw end of the deal. I think I am going to throw my radar away now.

Happy Valentine's day.

Friday, February 11, 2011


"Dodging, shunning, the act of keeping away from or preventing from happening"

and this is what I do. I am hard-core avoiding a guy right now :( I even turned on my shower in case he stopped by so that I would have a good excuse NOT to answer my door. I will even lock my door because I know he could come by and just let himself in if left unlocked. I mean, wow, I'm even a little embarrassed to admit this but truth-telling is apparently a must for healing and I want that. I avoided calling the DMV for two weeks because I did not want to know the truth about the potential outcome of getting yet ANOTHER speeding ticket this year. My mom has always said I'm like an ostrich who hides his head in the sand when the world is hard, or scary.

This is exactly the sort of emotional stuff I've been trying to persevere through in this new season of life. But oh my gosh it's so hard and so much easier to do this instead.

I don't want this to be my posture in hard situations forever. 
God, help me!

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Meet Margaret

And so I dreamed that Margaret stood outside my door, with fiery red hair and crazed eyes. She bangs relentlessly at my door. When I do not answer she sweeps her gnarled hands under the crevice of the door frame, growling like an infected wild animal, trying to intimidate and wear her victim down. Outside the door of my own house, she torments me. I look outside at my alter-ego, scared at what could be devastated by her presence. I wonder what her plan of attack is, how long will she wait out there, am I safe? Is this wild-haired petite little woman smart enough to have a plan of attack or is she a force to be reckoned with only because I am unable to logically protect myself from her unhindered violence and desire to utterly ravage any good thing.
"Sabotage, Sabotage!!" she screams at me from outside the door.
From that dream I awoke unnerved and on edge, now aware that Margaret "is" , and could appear unannounced. I forget about her during the busy moments of everyday.
Tonight I looked in the mirror, at my new self, the girl with the fiery red curls. And goosebumps crawled over my skin, knowing Margaret has finally surfaced inside my house.


So the funny thing is, no matter what color your hair color...and how pretty you feel because you are a red-head...the same insecurities remain. Oh Beth are always so right! I am listening to her series about our insecurities because this is just a place I am revisiting in life as I try to kick-start a love life again and just become a better me.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Ironic in Red

"Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and eat men like air." Sylvia Plath

And so I am finally a red head! I've always secretly wanted to be this color :) and now I am really enjoying it...most of the time. Red-heads are known for there tenacious personalities and fiery charm. Characteristic I envy, but certainly lack.
In fact my red hair is actually a constant reminder of my contrastively meek spirit. This in fact is one of my least favorite traits about myself. Something I am always trying to cover up or over compensate for.

"For god did not give us a spirit of timidity, but of power, love, and discipline." 2 timothy 1:7

This is a verse I memorized in a season of life where God was teaching me to embrace my meekness instead of being self-conscience of it. I am clearly still learning this lesson, although in a different phase of life. Once it was said to me that it is okay that we continue to learn some of the same lessons over and over...because we are like onions, learning these same lessons in a different way during a hopefully a new, wiser layer of life.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Red and Yellow, Black and White

"Little ones to him belong. They are weak but he is strong."- this verse gets me every time. The lyrics of David Crowder  and Chris Tomlin never fails to move me...but "Jesus Loves Me" says it all.

Tonight while singing this very song during choir practice...the room filled with joy and laughter and the comfort of the choirs steadfast relationships built over the years I realized how much I am loved. What a strange place to have this revelation. This community has really touched me deeply in a way that is so unexpected. It's moving to see not only their words of love and concern for others but always putting that deep love for their community into action. The neat thing about such a small town is that every persons contribution whether it be the "chicken soup brigade" or the "meals on wheels" largely impacts the community. It is good to see people taking care of each other and asking for nothing in return. They have been so wonderful (during my wilderness season) and I know they can't even know the extent of the internalizing and processing I am currently going through at this time. My own difficulties are completely minute in comparison to others needs and personal trials.

This song also hit me tonight because I have been realizing lately how much God loves me and how beautifully and wonderfully he made me. I know my worth more than I ever have in my life. On a superficial level I know that I am worth loving, and I know now I have struggled with that a lot prior to this year. I surrounded myself in high school and college with people who were not always uplifting or who spoke worth/value over me. This is not to say that I have not had some really amazing encouraging friends through out the years but the majority's voice always rings louder. In this year I have been loved on and life has been spoken over me again. Over time, college really took a tole on me relationally. My collegiate seasons of life were unkind to my soul at times and I desperately fought to preserve my self respect, purity, and the core of who God made me, often alone, and I lost the battle more times than I would like to admit. At some point, I saw an ugly glimpse of a person I never knew I was that somehow I had become and it scared me.  I eventually got unwrapped from those people and those places and in a way my most recent relationship really saved me from that ugly girl and it was truly God's vessel to bless and heal me. I just didn't know it at the time. I know now because I have never before felt so strong, or so pretty, or so worthy of being loved. My last relationship was successful and healthy after a string of what now seems like  unhealthy relationships that I just wasn't willing to admit to at the time because I had nothing to compare them to. I am thankful for that good relationship because it gave me confidence and has forced me to acknowledge my self-worth. I am worth loving, and I can be a great girlfriend and I have so much to offer with the right person. I just can't believe I never knew it until now.
I can't stress how important it is to be surrounded by positive and encouraging people. This year has been that for me, an escape from the past where my skewed perspective of myself held me captive to my insecurities. Now I realize I am experiencing life with a new outlook, unhindered by a lot of my previous concerns about my flaws and personality.  But really those are just lovely quirks.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Tuesdays with Boo

On Tuesday mornings I go to a quilting class at the church before I go to work. I love Tuesdays. I love to create things, and I love sipping my morning coffee while getting to know the ladies at the church. This is a little square I have been working on for some time. It has been the reason I have made relational connections and feel like a part of something bigger than myself. It feels so good to have a creative outlet and a product for my time well spent.

I strangely recognize the significance of this time in my life as a very rich experience that one day I will look back and say "Wow, can't believe that was a chapter in my life but I'm so glad." I'm learning to sew, quilt, expanding my cooking recipes, and I'm getting to know people in the community because of Caleb and my family relocating to Philly. It is so inspiring to hear all their different stories and be invited into their lives with arms wide open, even if only for an evening.

Enjoyed trip to Philly. Re-inspired to live in a city, with blocks, city parks, and a fun mix of strange and normal persons. I miss eclectic.