Happy Birthday To Me

Goodness.  How things go.  And goodness sake, it's gonna be a wild ride.

Today is my birthday.  Happy Birthday, Me!  I'm writing late, so it might be happy birthday me, yesterday for you... for that I apologize.  ANYWAY.

On Sunday, I talked a bit about opening the container and finding all of this me spilling out all over and gosh, there was a lot of me stuffed up in there.  Or not me... oh boy.  I am a little overwhelmed.

I made a friend a few weeks ago who is a pastor.  I'm starting to see that a portion of our instant friendship is our complimentary callings and gifts.  It's amazing what these simple conversations are pulling out of each of us.  I am overwhelmed and happy and encouraged and chastised and pushed and pulled and challenged.  This friendship is a lot.  I miss having a friend who challenges me to be a better Christian.  He's not afraid of hurting my feelings, nor I his, but things are said with grace.  And it is so much fun.

The friendship isn't the point of this post... it's that I have come home to myself.  Goodness, I do not know how this is going to play out, but I am plugged into myself, into my beliefs, my faith in a way that hasn't happened in 15 years... 16 years...  And I have hope for my own purpose again.  Again, not sure what's going to happen... not sure what's in store... not sure what changes except for maybe my own place of power and/or purpose.  I've always viewed my business as an extension of my ministry calling - my company's motto is "community through food", and I always intended that people get what they need when they approach and draw from me, whether they make a purchase or not.  It's likely the day-to-day of that will not change.

But, I've missed this portion of me.  I am very excited to see what happens.  I feel like fertile soil that's been watered, planted and watered again.  Wonder what the outcome is going to be... what will grow in the garden of me.

Something old, something new...

Back before I married, I had a rather committed spiritual life.  I know that some of my readers will not understand this, and I will explain if asked, but I guess for now, I just need to write this out.

I was called in to ministry at the age of six.  It was at a Christian and Missionary Alliance Bible Conference in Okoboji, IA.  This woman who was then in her 50s, a missionary to Africa, spoke.  There was something in what she said that compelled me to accept the ministry call.  I remember it so very clearly.  Over the next 20 years, I participated in ministries through churches I attended and in other mission ministries doing mostly practical missions (food, clothes, basic necessities) and also Bible studies, youth groups, some speaking, mostly 1:1 counseling and music ministries.

When I met David, who was not Christian and wouldn't call himself Christian or religious, I was so blessedly lonely and heartbroken.  I was 26.  When we fell in love, I fell in love with his heart and soul.  I sought release from my calling and felt that release was granted.  I knew there were caveats that if I left ministry, I would not find everything I was seeking, but I always believed that he was called into ministry as well, and, I guess, I figured that he'd follow that calling when we got life figured out.  But things didn't happen that way.  We moved to Salt Lake, and I was not a fan of the religious culture there, and then in Minneapolis, it was just easier to let my convictions slowly trail off.  Not that my beliefs changed, not that my faith changed, but I didn't overtly practice in the way that I'd grown up doing.  My religious practice became subtle and internal.  I do believe that this was good for me.  I needed some internal growth, I did need to be loved and to gain some emotional health that stepping away from ministry provided.  I said for 15 years, that my ministry was to my marriage and I believe that it was, we ministered to each other.

Fast forward, nearly 15 months after David's death and I darkened the door of my first church in that time today.  As frightening as it was, it was like coming home almost.  There are things I do not like.  There are barnacles on me that probably need to come off.  I am in need of honing.

I cried through the service.  Just tears leaking out of my eyes, down my face, dripping down my chin, and I was opening a huge part of myself that I had been stuffing into a container so that I could unreasonably love this man I had married.  I had blocked off so much of who I was so I could be loved.  In that act of stuffing myself away, I had lost my faith.

Today the lay-minister talked about getting what you need, about diligently seeking God for your needs.  I don't know how all of this will play out, but today I got to let go of my anger towards God because David was gone.  I know what I want now, and I don't know how that's going to be fulfilled, but I know my heart's desire.  And I am going to diligently seek getting what I know I NEED, not just what I want.  It's not my job to know how it works out, just that it will.  It will.  I'm turning this over.

I know some/most of my followers aren't Christians and have some serious concerns with Christianity in general.  To be honest, I do too.  I don't have all of the answers yet... and I might not ever.  But here is where I am in my journey to a whole me.

Contentment

Another day awash in gifts.  Work has been going well, the stress of some of the changes in my world are abating, grief lifting again a bit.  Hope.  All of this is a good place.

I keep bringing myself back to the fact that it's the journey.  We know what the destination IS... it is the same for every living creature - death.  So, you figure out how to live, to enjoy the process, the road, the meandering.

Desired

I don't know what happened.  I met someone, I guess.  We were introduced, I thought him pompous and then?  Like a switch, or a magnet flip, this instant connection. I wish the situation would be easier, but it won't be.  It's going to be hard and difficult and yet, maybe it will also be awesome and amazing.  It's going to take time and in the end, it might not work.  That's the disclaimer.

Suddenly I find myself desired... pursued... wanted.  In a way I haven't been, ever.  Not even David was this aggressive and yet this man is subtle.   He's expressive and discrete and I find myself being able to tell him everything, he is able to listen and to hear me.  He finds that he also wants to tell me his life story - unvarnished, and I enjoy that - I want his soulfulness.  I could be in trouble here.  

He doesn't want to rescue me.  I don't need a rescuer, I never have.  But he wants me to succeed, he champions it.  I want to do the same for him.  I don't know what I am going to do with all of this, but it's a lot to think about.  But as a woman who feels?  This feels really good.

Sadly, it will be a long, slow process - which is excellent for friend building.  In the end I may not wait for the timing to work out... I am not saying no, I am not saying yes.  I am just here in this moment, enjoying being desired.

Single.

I don't know how to be single.  I don't think I was all that good at being content with it when I WAS single all those years ago.

I'm struggling with it again, I guess.  How do I do this?  Be content with where I am with who I am now?  I gave over everything to my marriage - with the best intent, as one does with a relationship that you believe would be forever.  And now?  And now, damn, now I am alone.  No, that's the wrong sentiment... I am single again and trying to find my equilibrium with/within it.

I don't want to throw my heart at people... and I've kinda done that, and I've gotten ahead of myself.  I live in my head so much, picturing an idealized life where I can be in a committed, loving relationship that has separate living situations and probably not marriage, and not in the least because I don't know if I want to love someone so fully that I am this damaged again by it should it end.... and it will... if not in a breakup - in death.

There's a confession.  The woman who has always protested that the risk of loving people is that your heart is crushed by them, intentional or not, is afraid of even considering being in that space again.  I am.  I am afraid of loving someone that much again.

Is this why I am interested in men who, for whatever reason, aren't interested in me?  More than likely.  Don't get me wrong, these are wonderful men.  They have a lot to offer, even if they don't see themselves that way, they are treasures.  I'm not dumb, I can see people for who they are and their gifts.  I see them clearly.  I see the ugly and small bits too.  To me, these difficult things aren't things that are deal-breakers... but really, none of that matters.  None of that matters because... well, I am not what they want.  It hurts to realize that.

So, now where do I go?  How do I get to my best self?  How do I like myself well enough not to seek distraction and something to occupy myself?  How do I just be?  I'm not sure.  But it's where I am at right now.  I need to remind me that the road is the whole point.  That it's the journey - and that there's not a destination.  That the end of life is always death, so let's enjoy the passage while getting there.  As D used to say: It's an adventure.

Having a really bad day...

It's now over 14 months since David's death.

Things are ok.  I mean, today has been rough.  I don't know why I am so anxious to love again, to be loved again.  I know that things will happen in time.

So, I'm having a bad day.  Like a really bad day.  Not so bad that I'm worried about myself but bad enough.  And there is no away to run to... David was my away.  He left me with a great life, and no one with whom to share it.  I know this feeling is temporary.  I know it gets better.... but it is not better today.

I feel like I am wrong somehow.  I feel like I am broken or messed up and while I am told that this is not really the case, that my life was broken FOR me, it's still broken.

I don't have anything hopeful to say today.  This feels bad, and I don't like it.

Thanks to Hyperbole and a Half...

Read this.  I'll wait here.  You really do need to read this, ok?

Hyperbole and a Half - Depression Part 2

So, I've talked about the depression - the profound depression that David had.  That at the age of eight he had his first attempt at suicide and his mom saw what he was doing and convinced him that he'd not lived enough life yet to know if it wasn't for him.

And I talked about his not ever wanting to marry - that his views weren't only based on an intellectual view that marriage is problematic*, but based on the fact that he'd committed to his mom that he'd live till he was 30, knowing that at that point he might have a better grasp on his desire, or lack thereof, to live.

I know I talked about asking him for 10 years when after he turned 30, he revealed the depths of his depression to me.  And I have talked about how life just kept getting less and less palatable for him.  I have broken these bits up, because even I couldn't look at them all together.  Even now, writing this - I've tears streaming down my face... this is really hard.

But I read today's Hyperbole and a Half and I understand in a way I couldn't when so close to the one experiencing the pain.

I mean, touching me was so painful to him, because he wanted to see me happy - he could experience happy through me but he could feel none of it.  I don't think there is anything worse than wanting to feel with someone who wants to love you.  He was so incredibly tender with me, but none of it reached his eyes in the last few years.  That it wasn't just that depression stole physical intimacy with my husband - that the not-feeling made it so painful for him to even touch me.  That NOT touching me hurt me as much as touching me hurt him because he couldn't feel, and that caused him so much hurt. 

I know it was ONE of the factors that leaving made sense to him - because then I could find someone who could enjoy and participate with me (so convoluted).  He really loved me so much that he wanted me to have the best.  Someone asked me why finding love again was so high on my list - and there are a few reasons, but one of them is because I don't want his stupid death to be in vain.  I want to live life so fully because he wanted that for me so much that he DIED so I could have it.

He loved me so much and he just couldn't find a way to see that living was anything more than years and years of crawling across broken glass for himself.  He could see how his sad/depression/nothing hurt me because I wanted him to be happy - and there was nothing I could do to make that happen.  He believed that there was nothing that he could do for himself to make that happen either.  So not living was preferable.

 

I guess I am writing some of this out like this because I am processing it... but also to acknowledge that while I understand situational depression - and we all do - that the type of depression that David had, and that Allie is dealing with, and I know that some of you out there have?  I know it's a different thing.  I hope you have someone in your life who loves you even though this is where you are.  I hope too, like Allie, you are finding ways to reconnect with yourself - meds, therapy - whatever.  What you are experiencing is a chemical thing.  You aren't a bad person, there is no judgment from me if this is where you are... only care and love.  Please, please find a way to get to the corn.  The rest will come, albeit it might come slowly.  I wish I could have been able to get David help - that he'd allow it, but that is and was something I was unable to do.

 

 

*Not a topic I want to get into here, there are much better writers on the subject, should you want to explore further.