The waiting is the hardest part

Tomorrow is Scott's birthday. Days like this it hits me suddenly what happened and I feel short of breath. Not because it is so hard still (although it is not easy), but because when I think of the actual facts of what happened, I can't believe I have come out of it as unscathed as I am.

The worst part is the not knowing. That is also the sweetest. When a relationship hasn't worked out, I can clearly see why and watch the person and I grow apart. Not in this case. So many, many what-ifs. He was trying to get better when he died, which was so hard to hear. What would he have been like during and after rehab? what would have happened if he had cleaned up and we had gotten married...what would my life look like? For so long I wanted to see some redemption from it all. These days that is coming a little more easily.

I have a lovely, lovely life currently. I am in a good place and think my life is where it is for a reason. However, I think I will always wonder what would have happened if I had married that boy who was just so damned crazy about me. Who was lost and sad, but so fun and happy and joyful in the midst of it all. I think the possibilities and the wondering are a gift from God to make this easier. I can imagine the best and not relive the worst. Plus, I don't have to think about what have happened had he not gotten help, but spiraled into a life of drugs and pain, with or without me in it. He won't have to worry about bringing pain to me, his family and his friends.I can rest knowing he is where there are no tears or pain. I like that.

Happy Birthday Scott. May 6 will always be a special day to me.

Too weak to fight, too strong to fall

Elisa v Depression, Battle Royale 2009

I can feel it trying to creep in and I am fighting with all of my might. I am having trouble with hope (yes, again). I seem to be at some sort of turning point, where I am coming to terms with loneliness, the kind that doesn't ever go away. It will be around no matter if I am married with 2.5 kids or single and living in a tiny garage apartment. The loneliness that comes from being a believer in a broken world, someone who longs for Heaven and occasionally tastes it.

This is not all bad, in fact it is probably good. The realization that no matter how much I scurry around and try to suck life out of things, it won't work. My life will have beauty, yes...but always a loneliness. It seems the sooner this is accepted, the sooner you can rest in it. Rest in loneliness.

I am growing in ways that I didn't think I would ever grow. In my relationships with men, my relationships with friends, relationships within my family. The growth is painful, but beautiful. It is right and good, but not easy. Simple but not easy.

Needless to say, I feel pretty weird these days. A little all over the place. I am constantly searching for redemption and finding it in the strangest places and situations. Hoping for more and trying to live in the realization that I may never get what I want. That sometimes boys will be morons and not know what they want until it is too late. That beauty sometimes looks like a sunny day on my bike and NOT waking up next to someone every morning. That the greatest thing in my life may not be raising children, but instead serving my community. Or it could be both.

Slowly realizing that in the end I cannot write my own story.

I'm trying to get back

Hello 2009! I can't believe that 2008 is over. It was quite a year. I can't say that I am glad it is over, but I did have some good times. As well as a lot of mourning and reading and riding.

One thing I learned toward the end of 2008 is that I need to slow down. A few trips to the ER and weeks of not eating showed me that my body holds on to stress. I need a more restful existence, which is VERY hard for me. VERY.HARD.

I am passionate about many things and hate to sit on the sidelines. Instead I jump right in, whether it is starting a Non-Profit ,participating in an online contest , or taking on a new sport and commuting 6 miles to work by bike. I think 2009 is going to be the year when I trust others to make changes and trust that God can do things without me. It is going to be hard. But I don't see much of a choice. There is only so much I can do and learning my limit is a challenge that I am ready to take on.

In that spirit, this blog may see an even longer stretch between posts. It is not going away completely, but will be a more sporadic thing. However, you can keep up with me a bit with my new blog: Bikeskirt. This will chronicle my adventures as a female bike commuter and hopefully help to create a girl bike community in Birmingham. (I know, I know...trading one blog for another is not exactly a rest...I am still learning!).

and stay tuned for updates on the recent media attention my commuting has been getting. Newspaper profiles, Commutesmart highlights, magazine profiles and possible local news stories....phew.

I hope for hope in 2009. and hope for rest and peace.

I have these same hopes for you, friends

I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas Tree

I was re-reading last years Christmas posts. Wow, what a terrible time. And what a year it has been since then. On this very day a year ago, I found Scott’s car abandoned after a friend said she had seen it. I knew that day that I would never see him again, yet waited 4 more days to go and find him. Couldn’t kill the hope I guess.

Now I sit here a year later, missing him like crazy suddenly. I often think of him, but this weekend has been especially nostalgic. Christmas movies, advent music at church, wrapping gifts all remind me of what I have lost. I was planning on being married and being on the track to children in 2-4 years. Now I am not sure if I will ever have a family of my own. Accepting that is hard, but I am trying.

I don’t understand why Christmas is always a difficult time in my life. I can’t remember the last truly happy Christmas time I have had. Perhaps I expect too much with the media and all the Martha Stewart cookies and Lifetime movies and Romantic comedies taking over the world this time of the year? I can be having a perfectly normal (is that possible?) year and then Dec comes and WHAM! The Shit storm begins. Pardon my language.

This year I have an unknown illness. It has been wreaking havoc on my body for 3 months and peaked recently. In the past 2 weeks I have spent days in the ER, been put under for testing and had a surprise biopsy. Doing all of this has made me feel more alone. Spending hours in doctors offices and driving myself home on Morphine or calling friends to pick me up from the ER alone is lonely. I have a wonderful community who has been taking care of me and I am so grateful for that. But sometimes (most times) when I come home, I want someone to hug me and tell me that they will figure out what is doing on, and that I am pretty despite my fat lip and all the weight I have lost. Someone to cook me dinner and run to the pharmacy when I am too drugged up on pain killers to drive.

This post has a much darker feel than I intended. I started thinking about hope...and this is where I ended up.

I know that God hasn’t forgotten about me, but I wonder what this is about. And why it always seems to happen during Advent. It does make the waiting seem more real and the longing for Heaven more acute. I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, that is the reason. To understand that Advent and Christmas are about waiting. Not about decorations, presents or parties. The Hot Chocolate and mistletoe are nice, but in the end not worth much. What is worth the wait is much more eternal.

Hopefully, one day all of this will be worth it. When there are no more tears or pain and I can say, with confidence, that it is true. True and Real.

I long for that day. Until then I will continue to wait and hope. I hope for hope.

Dream a little dream of me

I saw this today and couldn't stop smiling


Coeur de Pirate || Comme des enfants from Dare To Care Records on Vimeo.

I know that this blog has been less personal than usual. Someday I hope that will change...but not today. Today it is just sharing something I find inspiring.

enjoy!

I'm gonna keep on hopin'

What I wish I was doing last night:



(this was taken on a Sunday afternoon to record my favorite way to spend a Sunday. You can't see the coffee, but it is there!)

How I actually spent last night:
packing up 2 boxes. How on earth do I have this much stuff? I alternate between wanting to throw everything away and the feeling that maybe, maybe someday I will have a daughter and she will want to look through my old high school photos and concert tickets. I am still too hopeful to throw it away. Even if it stays in boxes in garages, those boxes are a tiny reprensentation of the hope that I retain, even when statistics and culture are telling me that I have no reason to keep them.

call me naive.

(for those of you who read the post I posted last night, sorry! I posted that before sleep but after I had taken my sleep aid. Lesson learned: do not operate macbook under the influence...).

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you

That REO Speedwagon song has been in my head for days. Strange!

Thanks for all of the kind notes and calls and emails the past few days. I didn't realize that post sounded so sad. That was not my intention, but so be it.

Well, I decided it was time for action. This little funk seems to have settled it's happy ass down and decided to stay for a visit. One things i have learned over the past few years is this- "Fake it till you make it". In other words, do things that you used to enjoy and maybe eventually you will enjoy them again. I am not going to go around smiling and denying that I am unhappy, but I am also not going to give in and go to bed.

Last night I cooked dinner for a 2 close friends and enjoyed their company. I tried not to beat myself up that I had not gone to get drinks with other friends who had invited me. Cooking was good for me, as was some gardening and taking photographs. After dinner, we made butter! I have been wanting to do this for a while, so John decided to teach me (it involves a lot of shaking and some dancing and laughing). Let me tell you, homemade butter is awesome. Creamy and light. I had it on toast for breakfast and was happy.

This weekend I am going canoeing again, something that is very life giving to me. The water, the sun, the trees, using my muscles...I love it. I never used to be an 'outdoorsy' person, but this year I am discovering my inner naturalist and athelete! I am also hoping to have another friend for dinner and beer and laughing.

And The Beatles are helping as well. and Wilco. And Feist. Tristan and J Mraz. G Love. Good, happy summertime music. Well, Wilco Sky Blue Sky isn't happy, but comforting.

These things may not make the sadness go away, but at least it will make it bearable. I don't want to have a year pass me by in a grief induced stupor. My life is different now, but it is still my life. Incoporating the grief into my life seems to be the key to survival. Don't deny it, but don't make a bed for it to sleep in either.

I am sure there will be lots of pictures coming up. I have a few of the butter churning that I need to put up. I am not sure making butter has ever been so physical or hysterical!

you see, i've been to hell and back so many times, I must admit you kind of bore me

I was hoping to have a happier post today, but no such luck. I still feel as I did when I wrote my last post. The tears keep welling up but refusing to free themselves, and me, in the process.

This weekend I did everything that I could to shoo them away. I drank too much, flirted too much...all of the many things that I used to to push them down.

Yet here it is Monday, and I still feel the same way (and hungover!). The good thing is that I recognize my futile attempts to mask my loneliness. That is some growth...a tiny seedling. It is making me laugh a little to see how easily I turn back to the things that I search for solace in. Unhealthy things that I was sure I was done with. As though the last 5 months has erased these tendencies and I am past them. Not so much. It is only when I think that do I get into trouble. My pride weakens me. I am grateful that I can see them for what they are, laugh at my foibles and try again to resist.

I am hopeful.

I will leave you with a picture of the bounty that I brought home (free!) after Brewfest. Too bad the thought of drinking one makes my pounding head pound ever harder...

Weekend round-up

Here it is Sunday night, the end of another Spring weekend. I love Spring, but I am always so afraid of it's departure. One day soon I will wake up and it will be full on Summer. I am not looking forward to that. I love living with the windows open (i haven't closed them in a little over a month) and the doors open and cool nights and chilly mornings and warm days and new flowers. sigh.

ANYWAY, back to my weekend...

Friday I came home from an exhaustingly busy work week and baked a peach Tart (more on that in another post). I am not a baker, but am determined to bake something new every week. The Tart was a success. It was sweet and tart and soft and warm...like any good tart is. Friends and I devoured it in one night amidst laughter and silliness.


Saturday, I started at Urban Standard with Carrie and John, followed by Pepper Place. There I procured radishes, peaches, goat cheese, eggs and an alien looking vegetable called a kohlrabi. I love going there and talking to the farmers and sampling the honey and cheese and asking them about their farms. It feels very communal and connected. I also took a bunch of photos (many people asked me if I was a photographer with my fancy new camera!). Had lunch outside with a friend which was surprisingly delightful, to catch up and talk about life.


After all of that, I thought a nap was in my future. However, an idea had popped into my head that simply begged to be listened to. So, I called Jenn and she agreed that it must be done. So, we packed a little picnic of red wine (in a Nalgene bottle!), plastic cups, hard boiled eggs, water and books...and headed to the botanical gardens. After I took about 100 photos of the rose garden, we found a little place where we could read and hang out, quietly drinking wine that is strictly forbidden there. It was lovely. People kept coming by and asking if we were students, to which I replied "No, but thank you for asking!". It was really fun. I took a little nap in the sun and we saw some lizards and birds.




A good day.

Sunday I slept late, cooked breakfast and chilled. Some friends stopped by and we talked about food and farms and gardens, topics I never tire of. I decided to go back to the Gardens, not realizing that it was apparently "bring your bride and photographer day". There were 2 weddings, 2 brides walking around having their pictures taken and a perfect looking couple about 5 feet from my favorite swing taking engagement pictures. it was sad, but did not bother me nearly as much as it would have a month ago. Progress, slow and steady. It was actually a very enjoyable afternoon spent on a secluded little swing, reading.
I left there for church. Tonight in my little church we welcomed new members, baptized a beautiful boy and prayed for a former Pastor. It was, to me, a striking picture of the Gospel. Hope and brokenness, all mixed up together.
Tonight i made some yummy hummus and now am going to drift off to sleep.

I hope each of you is enjoying the Spring.


This is a kolhrabi! crazy looking, huh?

Walks through the garden of roses with her barefeet laughing

I read this today and loved it.

Never let a season go by without planting something." Such simple advice, isn't it? And yet, it's so easy to get bogged down by the logistics of gardening, space and growing and time and "black thumbs" and all of that. But plant something - sprout some seeds in a paper towel, grow basil in a pot in your kitchen, toss some carrot seeds in the ground and see what happens. Never let a season go by without the opportunity to get a little bit closer to your food, and have reason to dig your hands into the Earth.

from Soulemama

I firmly believe this. This is my first major growing season and I honestly don't know how I went so many springs without a garden. Oh, every year I grew something. A house plant here, some pansies there, herbs one year, daisies another. But I never really got it, never made it a priority. This year, feeling the need for life, and green and growth and nature, I gave it a go. I can tell you this friends; I will never go back.

I love the feeling of dirt under my nails. The heady of smell of damp soil being turned over. The itchy feeling you get after working on your knees in the grass for hours. The sweet, natural fragrance that greets me every morning when I step into my kitchen with the windows open. The dark green of growing lemons, their branches straining to hold onto them until they are ready to be freed, yellow and pungent. Herbs just begging to be included in a recipe, some standing tall and proud saying "build a meal around me, you won't regret it."

It gives me life. and hope. If they can grow and thrive, I can too. I will.

*pictured are my buckets of tomatoes, basil and tomatillos.*

Weekend round-up

This weekend was relatively quiet. Nothing particulary bad ass, just my normal badassiness.
Friday-After work I did nothing. At all. I came home, started some laundry, sat on the couch...and fell asleep. I woke up at 9:30, putzed around, read a bit...and went back to sleep.
Saturday was a bit more exciting. Went to Urban Standard. I love it there, but don't go much because it is farther away than many other coffee shops and with the price of gas...you get the drift. Those of you who will in suburbia will say that it is not too far away (as it is only 10 minutes), but there are about 5 coffee shops on my way, so I prefer to stay closer to home. ANYWAY, I wrote a little bit and talked a little bit (and maybe flirted a little bit), and left. Went to my friend Natalie's to meet with her mother in law for a holistic healing diagnosis. It was so interesting and helpful. I have a package of supplements coming tomorrow. Roll your eyes if you like, but I believe wholeheartedly in holistic medicine and healing. It was also nice to see the home that Natalie and Allan have made. they are so cool.
I then raced home to get ready for a party for a 1 year olds birthday, sat on the couch...and fell asleep. I woke up 30 minutes late and sad, so I didn't go. Just wasn't in the frame of mind emotionally to be around happy, beautiful people. Maybe I should have gone, but i didn't. Sorry Treads. Then went to BAM at Brookwood to read magazines and hang out.
Sunday I woke up early and my Dad and his wife came for Brunch. I fixed a wonderful recipe from Apples for Jam. White risotto with fried eggs. Side of fresh Asparagus and thick bacon. It was delicious and the visit was nice. My Dad and I have had a tenuous relationship for some time now. However, this time things were different. He was gentler and seemed happy. Less angry and impulsive. He told me that he volunteers at his church's breadbasket (the Church thing was shocking enough!), and he and June play scrabble for fun. It seems that after 50 years he decided to grow up. Good for him. Good for me. Good for our relationship. Took another nap (I slept A LOT this weekend) and then went to church. Again.
And you know what, I wasn't angry. I wasn't scared. It felt good. The sermon was wonderful. I saw people who had hurt me and felt no anger toward them, just sadness. Not weeping sadness, but a sadness that we are all sinners stuck here for while, trying to muddle through and not damage each other too much.
Then cooked a yummy dinner, wrote a bit, paid bills (thank goodness for the IRS and my bonus) and went to bed.
Another weekend down. No trauma. A success.

Next weekend: A crawfish boil, Old 280 boogie in Waverly and the Botanical Gardens Earth Day Celebration...stay tuned

Simple as it should be

I love this face. and I miss it.

He looks so happy here. Carefree and light. The boy I fell in love with. I almost don't remember him like this, but everyday I remember it a little more.

People ask me if I have any romance in my life. I was talking to a friend about this, and she said "You do have a love interest. He happens to have died, but he is still your love interest". Yes, he is.

I was always so worried about him and his health. Any little stomachache would have me in a tailspin, worrying his cancer was back, or his immune system was still messed up. My greatest fear was his death. I would cry just thinking about it. Now is is a reality in my life, in a way that I never would have imagined. How does life stray so far from the way we picture it?

Last night I spent time with dear friends, and we started talking about how much I have changed in 2 years. I am not sure that I would recognize that self walking down the street. I think of things that I did and things that I let happen and I am stunned. At the time of intense change, I couldn't imagine things being better. Yet here I am, thankful that those things have changed. I am sure that that story would have also been beautiful, but I would never have learned the things I learned and become the person that I am today. Someone who is more sure of herself than ever. Someone who won't be put aside and told she is not good enough. Someone who doesn't straighten her hair everyday and rides a bike in a skirt. Who prefers gardens over bars and beer over martinis.

I don't know what I was trying to say in this post. I started with a picture and here we are, miles from where I thought I would be. Seems about right.

Carrie sent me this saying that she thought fit me. I love it, and want to have it letterpressed and hung in my house, over my bed. It is this:

fluctuat nec mergitur
"Tossed by the waves, she does not sink."

then she said that she wished my tossing were more like surfing! I have always wanted to surf...

I need a little place in the sun sometimes

A visual of my little garden stoop:




Come summer, I will have so many tomatoes, greens, lemons and beans that I may set up a stand on the side of the road. Or invite friends over to share in my bounty, eating tomatoes over bread, drizzled with olive oil and fresh basil. Beans steamed immediately off the vine, with a dash of fresh lemon vinaigrette and accompanied by a glass of wine and conversation. Dessert of sweet strawberries and whipped cream. A taste of heaven. A respite from the brokenness of this life.

Lovely

Weekend round-up

I missed last week, and this one is late. My apologies for all of you who wait every week with baited breath to see just how I spend the Saturdays of my life.

This weekend, I was kind of a bad-ass. I mean, in my own little way.

Friday, I tried to script. Didn't go so well, so I slept instead. Don't worry, the bad-assy-ness is coming up...

Saturday I went and scripted in the morning. I actually wrote this time. Then CJ and I went to Brookside, AL for the Brookside Greenway Festival. CJ was treated like a celebrity...which meant that I was as well. (She used to report on that small town and made them feel important and cared about, which is a beautiful gift that she has. They see her as a female Ricky Bragg around those parts!). We heard about the history and then...went on a canoe ride (see what a bad ass I am?!). We canoed the mile easily, and decided toward the end that we didn't want it to be over, so we should probably turn around and go against the stream. We also planned a canoe trip for May 10 (more on that later), and another one with one of the owners (I told you they love her) for after a big rain. A 10 mile trip. I can't wait.
Then we milled around a bit, and decided to get out of the rain and go to O'Henry's. I love this place. I didn't realize how much I love it until this weekend. It has the coolest vibe (and Fred from Lasers edge still has his own drink named after him there, which I totally dug), and is comfortable and welcoming. After some coffee, it was on to the bike shop, where I shopped and my friend flirted. I bought a rack and headlight and taillight (finally! no more prayerful rides home at night on Montevallo road). Went home, rested and showered...then went back to OHenry's for more scripting with another friend.
Sunday, I got up and had coffee and french toast. Sat on the stoop a while, then decided to go for a quick little bike ride. An hour later I returned home, dehydrated, covered in mud and exhausted, but thrilled. I had, in the span of the hour, become a biker. I biked hills, I flipped off rude drivers, I carried my bike over a stream, I dashed in and around puddles, I rode over rocks and grass. In short, I was a bad ass.
On to church, after a quick shower. yes, that's right-church. The place I had been avoiding since Scott's death (and honestly for some time before that). It was time. And you know what...it felt like coming home. The place had changed and I didn't feel totally at home, but I was loved and knew that one day it would fit better. again. It was very hopeful. Plus, I really, really missed the music. Also met with a building guy about the garden I am going to make on the rooftop patio. I am very excited and hopeful about that. Now I need to get a proposal together, some volunteers, a long term plan...yikes. Oh, and some plants. I think it is going to be a healing, life-giving thing for me.
Then I went home and went to bed. Slept like a baby.
Today I biked for my first time across a busy intersection (on 31) back to the bike shop to have my rack and water bottle put on. I am ready. You may never see me in my Mini again...

Well, off to bed. Or to script. Probably bed...

Comfortably Numb

I have settled into a little routine lately that seems to be helping me survive and maybe, just maybe, enjoy things a bit. I have always been a bit of a routine person (hello, OCD), but my life has been such that a routine never really works. Unless you count drama and chaos as a routine (in which case I am very practiced!). Even growing up I did not have much sameness. We moved a lot, my mother worked retail and my dad changed jobs pretty often. I cannot tell you how many houses I lived in growing up. To some extent I enjoy this fact…I can adjust to change, make friends easily, etc.

College was always a move, a boy, a changed major, working, classes, partying (something I learned well from my folks). Never a routine. I know people who have always had Red Beans and Rice on Mondays, without fail. Or who spend every Sunday morning with their coffee and a book. I have never been that person…until now. ( This is where I originally planned to post my routine, but it was long and probably boring. I may post it later, as this blog has become like the journal I don’t keep that I like to look back on. ) Suffice it to say, my day includes coffee, praying, working, reading, cooking, gardening, cleaning. Occasional walks or bike rides. Everyday, although a bit different, has the same structure to it. It is quiet and safe and comfortable and sometimes even calming.

I do often have friends over or do something fun, but the routine just shifts a bit. I know what my days will look like and that is safe and nice. Safe has become my mantra, my thing. Who knows how long this will stay for. I am not particularly enjoying anything, but am settling in to my life as it is now. Not happy, but not as gut-wrenchingly sad as much. Those days seem to be lessening. Not gone, but not as life defining. I look forward to longer days, more sun, more mojitos and guacamole, more fresh veggies and relaxing company. I am hopeful for spring, hopeful for change, hopeful for hope. What else is there besides Hope? That's the thing.

The Tree of Life my soul hath seen

The most beautiful pictures I have seen in quite some time.

Caleb Melese Treadwell and his parents. Welcome to our community Caleb. We love you already.

I'll just find a comfy spot and i'll wait it out

I have been looking through my blogs from the last 2 months and am surprised that a) it has been 2 months since Scott's death and b) that I haven't fallen apart sooner.

It seems like so much shorter, yet I almost can't remember what life was like before this. I don't want it to define me, and I don't think that it will, but it is woven into the fabric of who I am now, and can't be taken out.

I am starting to see glimpses of who I am, who I will be and who I used to be. I think that the scars are starting to slowly show themselves. I think that I am going to be slower and quieter. Less edgy, more safe. Take the edge off of my sharpness. Gosh, even writing this, I realize that how I feel and act changes day to day. One day I am so angry at God and at Scott. The next day I am weeping and crying out and can't boil water without crying. Somedays, I will go half the morning and then realize/remember what happened. It doesn't even feel like my life is my life right now. I am surviving and trying to make sense out of it. Can sense be made of it? Is it a futile endeavor?
I know that one day my story will flesh out and I will see this, as we all will see the pain and hurt and realize the good. Until then, I am working on how to live my day to day life. How to trust and hope. How to help my friends trust and hope as well. I am not the only one with crap going on, and I see it in my community and it breaks my heart. How do we all do it? My stuff seems like too much to carry...how can I help you carry yours? How do I speak the Truth to you when I am not sure that I even believe it? Tell you to hope when mine feels dried out? It is hard and it is broken. In the end I guess I just need to pray for God to help my unbelief. Help me hope, help me pray. Help me care for those in my life. Help me. I am utterly incapable.

Little Miss Sunshine

That is what I feel like today. Sun is shining, I am wearing a spring dress (ok, I have a long sleeved T underneath and tights, but still...), loud music, sunroof open. I would give anything to be able to take the rest of the day off, get on my bike and just go. Water bottle on board, book in the basket, me and my thoughts and the wind and the sun. Glorious.

Days like today and I am all "What problems? My life is wonderful, perfect, sunny! who wants to plant something and then make pesto and drink mojitos and talk too loudly and laugh too hard and too long?"

ME, that's who.

it even makes me not care that I have 2 huge holes in the toes of my tights.

on a related note, a friend just told me that the State Motto for South Carolina is dum spiro spero, which apparently means "while I breathe, I hope." Isn't that lovely? Can someone steal a State's motto for their own? Well, I just did. Thanks, Trip for the info.

So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out tryin' to live

I was reading a book called "Healing after Loss', which is not something I would normally read, but nothing is normal now...so I thought what the heck.
I digress.

Anyway,at the end of the 1st day, the prayer said in it "May I honor-and trust-the processes of grief and healing,..."

That hit me. hard. That is what I need, that is what God is calling me to. Trust. He has me here, right now, in all of my messiness for a reason. I have no earthly idea what that reason is, but I need to trust it. I know, deep down, that all of this will someday make sense in my larger story. Even the things that I am clinging to and overdoing (gardening, cooking, reading) are good and life-giving and closer to who I really am than many of the things I have clung to in the past (fashion, alcohol, approval from men). I can feel change in me, slow and painful, but it is good and it feels right. These sorrowful nights are making me long for heaven and lean on him more. Feel my aloneness as opposed to running from it and grasping to fill it. It sucks, but I have to trust that it is good. I think that may be the hardest part of being a Christian, at least for me. But isn't that what it is all about? Bearing your cross and trusting that you are bearing it for a reason, even when that reason seems so far away and what you want to do more than anything is shrug it off and walk away? Yet you keep struggling, even though all reason says to run like hell, because you hope that one day it will be lifted. Faith and hope...they are so connected. Hope is the thing that keeps my faith alive and faith is the hope that God will show up again, just like he has before. That everything I believe is true and there will be a day when there are no tears.

My entire existence feels like repentance right now. As though all of the changes I am making and all of the new, safe habits I am cultivating are saying "ok, I will chose to wait on beauty, I will not choose chaos." I said to Gordon (side note: Gordon Bals is the best counselor I know and he and his partners have a beautiful ministry. You can find out more about it here.), "Normal life feels too hard", and that was a big revelation to me. Abnormal, chaotic life has always been my way, what I am used to, how I deal. Trying on safety feels strange, but good. Honest. Repentant. Saying to God "I don't know what the hell I am doing, but I know that I am going to try my hardest to trust you and wait on you, instead of relying on the the things I am used to".

Someone commented on this post that we need to fight back against the pain and the sorrow so as not to be held captive by it (it is said so much more eloquently there so check it out). What I thought was 'YES'. I think that for me that looks like leaning into beauty more, leaning into the things that are life-giving, not succumbing to chaos and falsities. Not listening to lies, such as "you better take what bits of beauty you can find, because nothing more is coming your way" or "you attract chaos, you will never escape it". those are lies. I don't know what God has in store for me, but this dark time is part of it and I want, no, need to trust that. It is going to be hard and everyday will be a battle, but I want to fight it.

And if there is anything I can say I am, it is a fighter.

I try to keep myself occupied, 'cause I know you're not coming home

Here is the truth that I have been hiding for a few weeks. I am not doing well. At all. If any of you were wondering why I have been so distant, that is why. Probably also why I have been blogging like crazy...so as not to have to really talk to anyone and distract myself.

I am a mess. Every night I cry, weep myself to sleep. At least an hour of this. I can't stop buying shit that I know won't make Scott come back. I hate my new apartment (don't get me wrong, it is very nice and lovely, but i resent it and everything it means). I invite people to come over, hoping that it will make me like it more. Nope, not at all. I pore through garden books and homey catalogs, thinking that maybe new curtain, or kitchen gadget or, hell, even a new bed will make me like it more. Even my couch is not comforting, which is surprising, for those of you who know me well. I have called in to work 3 days in 2 weeks.

I am tired. Physically and emotionally. I will soon also be broke. I wake up everyday and get ready to put on my happy face and 'do the day'. What I really want to do is make a sheet out of Scott's t-shirts and sleep in it. Maybe get up to ride my bike to a coffee shop, but mostly just sleep. The loneliness is oppressive and overwhelming. I thought that time was supposed to make things easier. It seems to be getting harder and harder every day.

I pretend to be hopeful, but I don't think I am. I don't want to take any more chances, I don't want to get hurt again. I am not sure that I can take it. My whole future just disappeared. What do I do now? Move to cali? Go to school? Stay here? Even the thought of going to church exhausts me b/c of the hurt there. I want somewhere to feel safe, and right now nowhere does.

When folks ask how I am going I can't seem to muster the courage to be honest. I shrug and say 'ok', or 'I just bought a bike!'. Somehow it is easier to post it here (I am screwed up, I know). I am lacking in the bravery area currently.

A good friend put on his Christmas Post "I hope for hope". That sentiment comes to mind literally every day since I read it. That is what I am hoping for as well...hope.