I am not, 
as I once believed, 
the leaf 
   
   discarded, 
      trampled, 
         drained of life. 

I am 
the tree 

deeply rooted
reaching to the heavens
letting go of what is no longer life-giving 

so that I may make room for more growth.

Let the winds of change
blow over me.
I will bend
But not break.
I will grow strong
while you try to 
   cut
      me
         down.

SFD

SFD*

You are my shitty first draft.
A fumble of ideas and faults and so many missteps.
A story without depth or direction.
Unsatisfying, confusing, embarrassing.
A first attempt.

You are my shitty first draft.
You are not the final story; the one that makes sense.
You are being crossed out and re-written.
By a better writer
With a better story line
Where I am the hero
instead of you.

You are my shitty first draft.
The one that I set aside
because shitty first drafts are meant to get over and done with
So that I can move on to the next stage.
The one where the real story emerges.
The one that makes sense.
The one that succeeds.

You are my shitty first draft.
And probably have been
and will be
for many other women.

You are my shitty first draft.

*SFD, or shitty first draft is a term coined by author Anne Lamott.  You can read her paper on SFDs here: https://wrd.as.uky.edu/sites/default/files/1-Shitty%20First%20Drafts.pdf

The Cheater

For a year and a half now I have been wrestling with God over my relationship with my husband.  I have prayed and lamented for so long to either change him or change me so that I can move in one direction or the other in peace.  So far, I am still in this state of limbo - God has not changed my husband, and he has not given me peace about moving on.  And it leaves me feeling frustrated and angry at God.  What is the purpose of this suffering?  How can this do any good?

Yesterday I was reflecting on this and wondering what I can learn through this season and I came to the realization that in my relationship with God, I am often the cheating spouse.  How often do I fail to communicate with Him, stop listening to Him and no longer talk to him about what is going on?  How often do I put other people or things as a priority over Him, letting him fall to the wayside of my life?  How often do I fail to cherish him and trust him and turn away from Him?  How often do I “fall out of love” with Him because I’m just not feeling the emotion? 

I know how these things feel.  How hurtful, heartbreaking and painful they are.  How much am I hurting God when I do this?  And though, in His Word, He gives me permission to divorce and move on with my life from someone who does this, He will never, ever divorce me.  I cheat, I lie, I fail him over and over again and yet He continues to take me back, pour His grace and love on me, hold me close and let me know that though I fail to cherish Him, He has never stopped cherishing me.

Remember that today.  God will never divorce you.  “…because God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’” – Hebrews 13:5

Learning

Years ago, shortly after the book, The Shack, was published, my dad gave me his copy to read while I was visiting their house.  I quickly consumed the story, loving all the highlighting and mark-ups left from my dad, noting that he also wanted to remember the parts that I wanted to remember as well.  At that time in my life, the story was deeply moving to me as a way of verifying many of my own thoughts about the nature of God.  I thought often about how good of a book it would be for him to read, since there's a large portion of the book dedicated to judgement and forgiveness.  I sent him a copy of the book to read while he was deployed.  Unfortunately, it was the wrong move.  He could not get far into it because while he's apart from his family on the other side of the world in a war zone, that is not the best time to be reading a man's account of the abduction and murder of his little girl.  Oops.

Out of the blue, I picked up my copy of The Shack last week and decided to re-read it.  And instead of thinking about all of the ways in which the story of redemption and forgiveness would be good for him, I found myself sobbing multiple times over how it was now speaking to *my* heart.  And through the re-reading of this book, I've been allowed another opportunity for growth.  For learning about myself, learning about him, learning about my relationship with God.

See, I've been growing, yes.  But last week we got the news that his request to transfer schools at the mid-year point was not accepted.  While we knew it was highly unlikely that he would be able to transfer mid-year in his first year of law school, I was starting to get my hopes up and consider how nice it would be to be a family united.  How nice it would be to have a partner who came home to me every day, and to whom I came home to as well.  How nice it would be to take turns driving kids and making meals and checking on weird noises.  How nice it would be to not have to go to sleep alone night after night.  So, when we got word that the transfer wasn't going to happen, I fell a bit.  And then I got angry.  At God.  How dare he answer my prayers and then leave me like this?!  How dare he go so far but decide that he didn't want to go any farther in his help?  How dare he lead me to believe that he was blessing his and my relationship but leave us in this horrible place of physical separation?!

Well, re-reading The Shack helped to bring me back to a state of reality.  It helped me to realize/remember some very important points:

1. I'm not better at this than God is.
I really want to believe that I know best.  Because many times I really believe it.  I know what is the best way to do things and God should just listen to me and do it this way.  Darn it!!  Yet, how can I know the best way?  I'm not omniscient.  I don't know what all is going on and where I'm being led and all the other people and stories being interwoven and worked for the good of Him.  My story is but a small one in the large scheme of things, and there are forces at work that are greater than me.  God knows what's best because He sees the BIG picture.  My vision is but small, and He sees how much more can be done than my small thoughts.  I need to let go of my belief that I know best and trust that God, truly, knows what's going on.

2. I don't need to make sure he understands the extent of the hurt and damage he's done.  I don't need him to understand that fully in order to forgive him.
This is huge for me.  This is what I keep coming back to time and time again.  I can forgive him, but...I can forgive him, if...  For some reason I feel that he needs to understand exactly the fullness of what he's being forgiven.  I need him to know how big of a person I am for forgiving him of all of this.  I need him to feel the weight of it so that my lifting of the weight is known and appreciated.  But that probably is not going to happen.  I am learning that I will never be able to make that known to him, and that I can only trust God to make it known.  And that even if he never fully understands, *it's okay*.  Because through God, we can be healed, and grace means undeserved favor.
"All I want from you is to trust me with what little you can, and grow in loving people around you with the same love I share with you.  It's not your job to change them, or to convince them.  You are free to love without an agenda." pg 181
"Reconciliation is a two way street, and I have done my part, totally, completely, finally.  It is not the nature of love to force a relationship but it is the nature of love to open the way." p. 192

3. It happened, it hurts, but it's not happening right now.
I am reminded every single day of what has happened.  I have memories, visions, flashbacks, heart-crushing revelations of him and other women; the reality of certain memories; how my experiences are now understood differently.  And it is hard to not let the reality of everything - the majority of my relationship with him - take me to my knees in utter disparity.  I have learned a coping mechanism for moving forward.  Acknowledging that what happened has happened.  Acknowledging that what happened has hurt me.  But also acknowledging that the things he did to hurt me, he's not doing right now.  Acknowledging that he has confessed his sins, that he is repentant and is working at making things right.  He is not cheating on me now.  He is working to make our marriage strong.

"People are tenacious when it comes to the treasure of their imaginary independence.  They hoard and hold their sickness with a firm grip.  They find their identity and worth in their brokenness and guard it with every ounce of strength they have." p 189

"Forgiveness in no way requires that you trust the one you forgive.  But should they finally confess and repent, you will discover a miracle in your own heart that allows you to reach out and begin to build between you a bridge of reconciliation.  And sometimes...that road may even take you to the miracle of fully restored trust."  p 226

4. There is a much bigger story at play, and I have a part in it, but I need to trust that God knows it all and his story is one of redemption.
I HAVE to believe that redemption is the final act.  That we have a future that is beautiful.  That God makes beautiful things out of dust.  Out of the ashes of our sins and failures, God has the power to take the crap that we have and weave it into a beautiful story with grace, and mercy and forgiveness and redemption.  That this is a love story that will blow away the pettiness of the world, and that our story might instigate the healing of others.  I HAVE to believe it.  And I will call our relationship redeemed because that is the power we have in our Father.

"There is power in what my children declare." p 227

PTSD

Yesterday, I was diagnosed with PTSD.

No. Way.  That was my first reaction.  It's humorous, really.  I have spent the last how many years researching PTSD in order to better understand, love, and support my husband?  And I didn't even realize the things that *I* was experiencing were exactly those same symptoms.

I can't have PTSD.  That's his thing.  I can't take that from him.  It makes me feel like I'm trying to take attention when I consider it.  I'm the one who is supposed be taking care of him.  I can't need taking care of.   Who will be the strong and stable one for our children if both of us go through unsteady times?

In August, I was raped.  Twice by the same man.  After the trauma that I had experienced leading up to it, I dissociated the experiences.  I walked away from it all completely numb.  My mind has been in sleep mode for many months now.  I didn't even think about it.  "I'm fine, it didn't affect me" I told Carsten and my dear friend.  That only lasted until my mind thawed out and started allowing reality to seep back in.  Why did I just rage at my teenage boy for talking about women being triggered?  Why do I feel so afraid all of the time?  Why am I having panic attacks every time I go to public places?  Why can't I concentrate on my school work?  Why do I lose my words in the middle of talking?  Why do I want to rip the heads off of men who just look at me?  And just recently, since I've acknowledged the full extent of what happened, the flashbacks.  They are full-on.  Flashbacks that send me into spirals so steep it knocks the breath out of me at how quickly I fall to the bottom of the dark, deep pit.

On the one hand it feels so unfair that he isn't here with me to hold me through it all.  On the other hand, I don't want our time together to be stolen by the shitty actions of a man who thought he could take whatever he wanted.

And because of all that we've been through in this past year, I'm afraid.  I'm afraid that it will just be too much.  That he will change his mind about wanting to come back to me.  If I'm no longer the strong one who holds him together while he falls apart in his PTSD; if I'm now the one who gets lost in her mind, who is now the broken one...will he even want a part of that?