Will the lights upon my Christmas tree,
Reach the shadows found in me?
The promise of a Savior born,
Will that calm this inner storm?
Can a present tied with bows,
Heal the pain that no one knows?
A jolly elf dressed up in red,
Will he stop the voices in my head?
The ones who tell me to give in,
This battle is one I cannot win.
Can a star that's shining in the night,
Lead me out of darkness and into light?
Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel,
Come and save me, make me well.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Friday, November 1, 2013
The Last Dance
Though the Marine Corps birthday is not until the tenth of this month, the Marine Corps Ball for the man's unit (stop sniggering) is tonight. It's an event that I very much looked forward to, my sole excuse over the years to dress in a beautiful dress and be on the arm of a man in uniform.
This is us at some of the ones over the years.
This is us at some of the ones over the years.
Happy, happy, happy.
So tonight the man is in his blues, and I am at home blogging out my feelings. He didn't invite me to the ball this year. No pumpkin turned into a coach, no fairy godmother changed my yoga pants for a ball gown, and no prince will dance with me until midnight. And he won't search for me when I leave either.
Cinderella is not at the castle. She's in a house of chaos trying not to puke up her dinner, or cry hysterically at the smallest provocation.
Actually, the tears have arrived. Or maybe they never really go away?
This is obviously not the sole responsibility of the man. If we hadn't been so back and forth, up and down, hot and cold, on and off then I might have rated an invitation to tonight's event. But to quote Alexander Rybak, "I'm in love with a fairy tale, even though it hurts."
I believe this is what I have done - imagined a fairy tale ending to all of this painful nonsense we have put ourselves through the last several years. Brick by boring brick I have built up my dream ending, where he comes after me, where I go to the ball, where we all live happily ever after.
But it was only just a dream.
I should get points for all the song quotes I'm integrating.
As I start to grow up (finally) I am realizing that life is in fact about the nonsense, not the fairy tale. This every day we struggle (sometimes) through, this is the real heart of the story, not the part where we all live happily ever after. No one ever said that's how it was going to be, and I can't for the life of me figure out why I've spent so much time waiting for that moment to come, that one where he realizes he can't do without me.
Now, I don't want you to think I'm unhappy with my life in general. I am not. I've found peace and joy in these circumstances, which I can only attribute to a loving God. It's just that I'm realizing that the outcome I want in the area of my marriage may not ever come to fruition in my timeline, or maybe even at all. Somehow, I have to learn to find peace and contentment with that too.
Or perhaps I need to change my dreams.
Either way, tonight I'm more aware of my need to break the glass slipper and bury the castle.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
The Wh*** of Washington
I took a pregnancy test last Thursday. It was positive.
I took another one last Friday. Still positive.
So I am pregnant with my third child by my husband. And I feel like I need to wear a scarlet letter.
I've made no secret of the fact that he and I are separated. Trying to work stuff out, but still separated. In fact, the weekend prior I pretty much told him I felt like the end of our marriage was inevitable - that I just was too tired to keep figuring him or myself out. We'd had a fight a couple of weeks ago and instead of talking through it we both kind of dissolved into a "name-calling, I know you are but what am I?"fest. However, a couple weeks prior to that (about a month ago) he and I had a great weekend together.
And one month later, here is the evidence of that weekend.
On Thursday the one thing that kept repeating in my head was that song that Tina Fey and Maya Rudolph sang a few years ago on SNL about their babies. The chorus was, "You're the proof that we've been doin' it. Your mom and dad have been doin' it."
Babies, in my opinion, are ALWAYS a blessing. Even ones I would consider to be "poorly timed." This child makes no difference in my marital status, unfortunately, just as my children who have been around a few years make no difference. For a fleeting moment, I thought perhaps it would. If I needed anymore convincing that there is nothing here on earth that will make a difference, I got it tonight after a hellish argument. I think I'll just leave it in God's hands and stop "trying" so hard. It's not doing one bit of good.
But I'm grateful for this child, my third reminder that God is in the business of blessing, even when we don't really deserve it. That thought makes a difference in my heart, tonight and for always. My children are a picture of His vast, unconditional love. And for that, I could never be sorry. I can only be thankful.
I took another one last Friday. Still positive.
So I am pregnant with my third child by my husband. And I feel like I need to wear a scarlet letter.
I've made no secret of the fact that he and I are separated. Trying to work stuff out, but still separated. In fact, the weekend prior I pretty much told him I felt like the end of our marriage was inevitable - that I just was too tired to keep figuring him or myself out. We'd had a fight a couple of weeks ago and instead of talking through it we both kind of dissolved into a "name-calling, I know you are but what am I?"fest. However, a couple weeks prior to that (about a month ago) he and I had a great weekend together.
And one month later, here is the evidence of that weekend.
On Thursday the one thing that kept repeating in my head was that song that Tina Fey and Maya Rudolph sang a few years ago on SNL about their babies. The chorus was, "You're the proof that we've been doin' it. Your mom and dad have been doin' it."
Babies, in my opinion, are ALWAYS a blessing. Even ones I would consider to be "poorly timed." This child makes no difference in my marital status, unfortunately, just as my children who have been around a few years make no difference. For a fleeting moment, I thought perhaps it would. If I needed anymore convincing that there is nothing here on earth that will make a difference, I got it tonight after a hellish argument. I think I'll just leave it in God's hands and stop "trying" so hard. It's not doing one bit of good.
But I'm grateful for this child, my third reminder that God is in the business of blessing, even when we don't really deserve it. That thought makes a difference in my heart, tonight and for always. My children are a picture of His vast, unconditional love. And for that, I could never be sorry. I can only be thankful.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
A Love Starved Woman
I received a pretty great compliment the other day, which made me fall instantly head over heels with the giver. They gave it unaware of how insignificant I've been feeling lately (in fact, they don't really know me, so that gave the compliment even more significance in my mind).
I'm reading a book called, "Made to Crave" which is focused on changing eating habits, but has lessons that could apply to any area of your life where you find yourself being consumed. Being more aware of my eating habits has yielded some unexpected results in other areas. I'm beginning to be more aware of other "cravings" I'm have in my life.
And I've discovered that what I crave most is validation.
"Think that I am significant. Think that what I do as a wife and mother is valuable to you." It's practically my mantra. It's like if I think it enough, I can project it on the one person who's validation I don't have, and yet want so badly. Like somehow by force of will I can make them see me as worthwhile.
As a Christian, I know that I need to find my validation in the Lord. Yes, He thinks I am valuable. Yes, He thinks that being a mother is a high calling. And God knows I'm trying to be the wife He wants me to be (and it's up in the air whether I'm failing miserably or not I guess).
Meanwhile, I need to remain aware of the danger in craving validation from other sources, and the temptation of compliments from strangers.
I'm reading a book called, "Made to Crave" which is focused on changing eating habits, but has lessons that could apply to any area of your life where you find yourself being consumed. Being more aware of my eating habits has yielded some unexpected results in other areas. I'm beginning to be more aware of other "cravings" I'm have in my life.
And I've discovered that what I crave most is validation.
"Think that I am significant. Think that what I do as a wife and mother is valuable to you." It's practically my mantra. It's like if I think it enough, I can project it on the one person who's validation I don't have, and yet want so badly. Like somehow by force of will I can make them see me as worthwhile.
As a Christian, I know that I need to find my validation in the Lord. Yes, He thinks I am valuable. Yes, He thinks that being a mother is a high calling. And God knows I'm trying to be the wife He wants me to be (and it's up in the air whether I'm failing miserably or not I guess).
Meanwhile, I need to remain aware of the danger in craving validation from other sources, and the temptation of compliments from strangers.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Death in Two Ways
Last night I had a dream about Ducky. Those who know me know that Ducky was one of my very close friends for about twelve years. I'm not surprised she was in my dreams; I've been thinking about her and her family every single day since June 1st.
June is the month for birthdays, both among my family and my friends. Aunts, cousins, nephews, nieces, sister-in-laws, friends, my daughter and myself all share this month to celebrate our arrival on earth. But the last day of June, there is a birthday that I begin to think of the moment the calendar changes from May. It belongs to Ducky's brother, Scott.
Scott was, to me, a pretty special individual. I used to tell him he was like the younger brother I never had. And I treated him like a younger brother. I look back at our friendship and realize that most of it was me lecturing him and trying to get him to make changes to his life. He took it all in stride, and didn't change a thing until he was ready. I thought he was moving too slow, and I wanted him to go and be and do and learn and...and...and.
He was going to come and visit me in August of 2010. I remember that he called me on July 29th, and I didn't answer. I was slightly cross with him, because he wanted to fly to an airport that would require me to drive through 2 hours of traffic one way just to get to him, not to mention the traffic coming back. It would have been cheaper for him, but there was an airport ten minutes from my house and I couldn't understand why he wouldn't just fly in to that one. I didn't feel like having the conversation about it. I have no idea why. In retrospect, what a petty thing to be upset about.
I didn't know it then, but that phone call was my last chance to speak with him. On August 1st, he was killed in a car accident.
It was after his death that I came to realize that Scott was one of the few individuals who took me exactly as I was, self-important lecturing and all, and loved me anyway. He never tried to change a thing about me. The loss of him in my life has been immeasurable. I think about him almost every day. His name is tattooed in a cross on my arm, a celtic cross because that's one of the tattoos he wanted. I grieved with his family, knowing that as deeply as I felt his loss that is was not comparable to his flesh and blood.
Two years after his death, I experienced a loss of a different kind; it was the death of my friendship with Ducky.
Ducky and I had been through so much together, that I thought we had a completely unshakeable foundation. We'd known each other since we were sixteen. We had seen each other through countless ups and downs, twists and turns, joy and pain, happiness and unfathomable sadness. She was closer to me than a sister. I could not imagine my life without her.
Until one day, I could.
Just what happened, I won't say. But while Scott's death was completely out of my control, losing Ducky as a friend was entirely up to me. It weighs on me sometimes, despite how "right" I felt I was being, because losing her friendship meant losing her family, whom I also dearly, dearly loved.
And so on the eve of Scott's birthday, I think of how often I take people for granted. It never once occurred to me that Scott wouldn't be around, just as it never occurred to me that Ducky and I wouldn't make it for the long haul.
I don't always treat people close to me with as much appreciation as I truly feel toward them. I want to learn to love others with more purpose, and be grateful for the time I have with the ones God has put in my life.
Because life changes too fast not to.
June is the month for birthdays, both among my family and my friends. Aunts, cousins, nephews, nieces, sister-in-laws, friends, my daughter and myself all share this month to celebrate our arrival on earth. But the last day of June, there is a birthday that I begin to think of the moment the calendar changes from May. It belongs to Ducky's brother, Scott.
Scott was, to me, a pretty special individual. I used to tell him he was like the younger brother I never had. And I treated him like a younger brother. I look back at our friendship and realize that most of it was me lecturing him and trying to get him to make changes to his life. He took it all in stride, and didn't change a thing until he was ready. I thought he was moving too slow, and I wanted him to go and be and do and learn and...and...and.
He was going to come and visit me in August of 2010. I remember that he called me on July 29th, and I didn't answer. I was slightly cross with him, because he wanted to fly to an airport that would require me to drive through 2 hours of traffic one way just to get to him, not to mention the traffic coming back. It would have been cheaper for him, but there was an airport ten minutes from my house and I couldn't understand why he wouldn't just fly in to that one. I didn't feel like having the conversation about it. I have no idea why. In retrospect, what a petty thing to be upset about.
I didn't know it then, but that phone call was my last chance to speak with him. On August 1st, he was killed in a car accident.
It was after his death that I came to realize that Scott was one of the few individuals who took me exactly as I was, self-important lecturing and all, and loved me anyway. He never tried to change a thing about me. The loss of him in my life has been immeasurable. I think about him almost every day. His name is tattooed in a cross on my arm, a celtic cross because that's one of the tattoos he wanted. I grieved with his family, knowing that as deeply as I felt his loss that is was not comparable to his flesh and blood.
Two years after his death, I experienced a loss of a different kind; it was the death of my friendship with Ducky.
Ducky and I had been through so much together, that I thought we had a completely unshakeable foundation. We'd known each other since we were sixteen. We had seen each other through countless ups and downs, twists and turns, joy and pain, happiness and unfathomable sadness. She was closer to me than a sister. I could not imagine my life without her.
Until one day, I could.
Just what happened, I won't say. But while Scott's death was completely out of my control, losing Ducky as a friend was entirely up to me. It weighs on me sometimes, despite how "right" I felt I was being, because losing her friendship meant losing her family, whom I also dearly, dearly loved.
And so on the eve of Scott's birthday, I think of how often I take people for granted. It never once occurred to me that Scott wouldn't be around, just as it never occurred to me that Ducky and I wouldn't make it for the long haul.
I don't always treat people close to me with as much appreciation as I truly feel toward them. I want to learn to love others with more purpose, and be grateful for the time I have with the ones God has put in my life.
Because life changes too fast not to.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
A Summer Frost (Bite)
"It's the quiet ones you have to look out for."
"Still waters run deep."
That's what you think...until you dive in wholeheartedly, trusting in old adages. Then you realize a little too late that no, the still water was running pretty damn shallow. Have fun with that broken head. Broken neck.
Broken heart.
Let me ask you a question. At what point does your lack of attraction to me become your problem and not mine? Where is that fine line? Perhaps it's hidden under all this unwanted fat.
I recently read a great article about body image; how we view ourselves vs. how others may view us. The gist of it was "Love yourself at any size, and believe yourself worthy of love from others too."
Worthy of love. Would you believe that I have spent much of my life feeling unworthy of love? You know what started the change in my thinking?
Three years ago my very good friend died. And I came to the realization after his death that he was one of the few people who really knew me, who took me exactly as I was and loved me. He loved me right in the now.
And I remember talking to a friend of mine, saying, "He loved me, but I don't know why. I'm nothing special." She turned it around and said, "But that's what love is. That's God's love for you. You don't have to earn it, you don't have to do anything to get it. You don't have to be skinny or smart, or work hard for it. It's free, and unconditional."
I've known God all my life. But I haven't known God's unconditional love all my life. Three years ago is when I started to be open to receiving it.
Flash-forward to a day like today, where it started out with, "I'm not attracted to you, but that doesn't mean I love you any less." I'm sure that would be reassuring if our definition of love was the same. Actually, I'm not sure you would even think that way if our definition of love was the same. Perhaps I'm wrong, though. Certainly my attraction to them dropped several degrees when I heard those words.
Part of me wants to start extreme exercising, so I can make myself skinny faster, to win back that attraction. And part of me wants to go out and find someone who IS attracted to me - right now, as I am - and be all like, "SUCK IT!" to my antagonist. But the part of me that's winning out is the part of me that has nothing to do with me: It's the still, quiet voice saying, "It's ok. You are lovely to Me."
Today sucked. But instead of berating myself in the mirror, and instead of eating a sleeve of oreos, soggy from my tears, I decided to remember that I am lovely at this size to Someone. And I'm worthy of love, according to Him. For me, that's a step in the right direction three years in the making.
Maybe even a lifetime in the making.
"Still waters run deep."
That's what you think...until you dive in wholeheartedly, trusting in old adages. Then you realize a little too late that no, the still water was running pretty damn shallow. Have fun with that broken head. Broken neck.
Broken heart.
Let me ask you a question. At what point does your lack of attraction to me become your problem and not mine? Where is that fine line? Perhaps it's hidden under all this unwanted fat.
I recently read a great article about body image; how we view ourselves vs. how others may view us. The gist of it was "Love yourself at any size, and believe yourself worthy of love from others too."
Worthy of love. Would you believe that I have spent much of my life feeling unworthy of love? You know what started the change in my thinking?
Three years ago my very good friend died. And I came to the realization after his death that he was one of the few people who really knew me, who took me exactly as I was and loved me. He loved me right in the now.
And I remember talking to a friend of mine, saying, "He loved me, but I don't know why. I'm nothing special." She turned it around and said, "But that's what love is. That's God's love for you. You don't have to earn it, you don't have to do anything to get it. You don't have to be skinny or smart, or work hard for it. It's free, and unconditional."
I've known God all my life. But I haven't known God's unconditional love all my life. Three years ago is when I started to be open to receiving it.
Flash-forward to a day like today, where it started out with, "I'm not attracted to you, but that doesn't mean I love you any less." I'm sure that would be reassuring if our definition of love was the same. Actually, I'm not sure you would even think that way if our definition of love was the same. Perhaps I'm wrong, though. Certainly my attraction to them dropped several degrees when I heard those words.
Part of me wants to start extreme exercising, so I can make myself skinny faster, to win back that attraction. And part of me wants to go out and find someone who IS attracted to me - right now, as I am - and be all like, "SUCK IT!" to my antagonist. But the part of me that's winning out is the part of me that has nothing to do with me: It's the still, quiet voice saying, "It's ok. You are lovely to Me."
Today sucked. But instead of berating myself in the mirror, and instead of eating a sleeve of oreos, soggy from my tears, I decided to remember that I am lovely at this size to Someone. And I'm worthy of love, according to Him. For me, that's a step in the right direction three years in the making.
Maybe even a lifetime in the making.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Dates of two kinds
"No, I don't think I will kiss you. Although, you need kissing badly. That's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how." --Rhett Butler
I would like to go on a date. I would like to be asked out, picked up, told I'm pretty, hand holding throughout and thoroughly kissed goodnight at the end.
Perhaps I have watched Enchanted one too many times. Or maybe it's the little romantic I seem to be raising. The girl child is constantly drawing stick figures holding hands and dancing, telling me stories about princes and princesses. She looks at my wedding photos and exclaims over my wedding dress and says, "Daddy and Mommy are married!" She's excited about it because I've always been excited when I tell her about it.
*heavy sigh*
Romance these days feels like a misplaced item that I'm constantly trying to find, and just know I left in the last house that we lived in. Or maybe it was two houses ago. Or three...and how does one go about trying to "keep the fire alive" when it's taken effort on both sides to just work on not letting the embers of the relationship die altogether?
*another heavy sigh*
Time to change the subject.
Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday. I have spent the last couple of years feeling so ancient, physically and emotionally, that I have to remind myself that I'm only twenty-nine. I'm looking forward to starting a new year in my life, one where I'm less weary, and more energized. And where I do more for other people than I do for myself.
I saw a shirt in Target the other day that said, "Do more of what makes you happy." I stood there for a long time thinking that if I did more of what made me "happy", I'd probably eat a lot more froyo, drink a lot more vodka, and spend a lot more money. ;-) Suddenly a song from my childhood entered my head. I could hear "Psalty the Singing Song Book" belting out, "If you want to be great in God's kingdom, learn to be the servant of all." That's actually in the Bible, in the book of Mark.
"But it shall not be so among you; but whosoever will be great among you shall be your minister, whosoever will be chiefest, shall be servant of all." Mark 10:43-44 (KJV)
And I remembered the true happiness that comes from doing kind things for other people. And I have decided to spend this twenty-ninth year making that my focus, starting with my family and working out. I feel very blessed tonight, thinking tomorrow I will have the privilege of spending the day with my family and my friends. God is good, and that stays true every year, whether I'm good or not.
So maybe I won't be getting romance, or a date night, or a long kiss goodnight. But maybe I can instead reap happiness from sowing the seeds of kindness towards others. That would be ok with me.
I would like to go on a date. I would like to be asked out, picked up, told I'm pretty, hand holding throughout and thoroughly kissed goodnight at the end.
Perhaps I have watched Enchanted one too many times. Or maybe it's the little romantic I seem to be raising. The girl child is constantly drawing stick figures holding hands and dancing, telling me stories about princes and princesses. She looks at my wedding photos and exclaims over my wedding dress and says, "Daddy and Mommy are married!" She's excited about it because I've always been excited when I tell her about it.
*heavy sigh*
Romance these days feels like a misplaced item that I'm constantly trying to find, and just know I left in the last house that we lived in. Or maybe it was two houses ago. Or three...and how does one go about trying to "keep the fire alive" when it's taken effort on both sides to just work on not letting the embers of the relationship die altogether?
*another heavy sigh*
Time to change the subject.
Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday. I have spent the last couple of years feeling so ancient, physically and emotionally, that I have to remind myself that I'm only twenty-nine. I'm looking forward to starting a new year in my life, one where I'm less weary, and more energized. And where I do more for other people than I do for myself.
I saw a shirt in Target the other day that said, "Do more of what makes you happy." I stood there for a long time thinking that if I did more of what made me "happy", I'd probably eat a lot more froyo, drink a lot more vodka, and spend a lot more money. ;-) Suddenly a song from my childhood entered my head. I could hear "Psalty the Singing Song Book" belting out, "If you want to be great in God's kingdom, learn to be the servant of all." That's actually in the Bible, in the book of Mark.
"But it shall not be so among you; but whosoever will be great among you shall be your minister, whosoever will be chiefest, shall be servant of all." Mark 10:43-44 (KJV)
And I remembered the true happiness that comes from doing kind things for other people. And I have decided to spend this twenty-ninth year making that my focus, starting with my family and working out. I feel very blessed tonight, thinking tomorrow I will have the privilege of spending the day with my family and my friends. God is good, and that stays true every year, whether I'm good or not.
So maybe I won't be getting romance, or a date night, or a long kiss goodnight. But maybe I can instead reap happiness from sowing the seeds of kindness towards others. That would be ok with me.
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