The Mother

Tis the night before Christmas.

As a child, even in the toughest of times, when the only thing certain was the uncertainty, this night was filled with excitement. I never believed in Santa, but there was something magical about the anticipation on this night. 

Every year on Christmas morning, we read Luke chapter 2, the account of Christ's birth. When young, I could identify with the worship and joy of the shepherds. I gloried in the songs we sing at this time of year, imagining myself as the little drummer boy, a king from orient, an angel on high. Happiness was the Christmas spirit for me for many years. 

Today, this Christmas Eve, I feel my joy tinged heavily with sorrow, even as the first Christmas must have been.

As a young, Jewish girl, Mary must have known of the Messiah who had been prophesied for thousands of years. When the Angel Gabriel announced she would be His mother, I wonder if, like any newly pregnant woman, she was filled with not only the normal worry that comes with the territory, but the additional shock and awe that would come with bearing the Savior of man. 

I've had three children, and with each one the pain of child birth was severe, but the moment they were born, there was ceaseless joy. She must have felt that, but how soon did she begin to think of the inevitable moment: her sweet, innocent baby boy would die a gruesome and merciless death on the cross. 

Joy tinged with sorrow. Maybe tinged is an understatement. Joy inundated with sorrow. 

With the anticipation of gifts and festivities on Christmas I also find myself in dread of the day after tomorrow. Because of the divorce, my own babies will be splitting the holiday time with their father. He will have them for eight days. 

I've never been away from any one of them for that length of time.

It's on a small scale, I know, but this year I identify with the Mother, who must have been afraid and chose to trust anyway. Who must have been heartbroken in the midst of her happiness. She must have held her baby tighter, pondering the eventualities in her heart. I know tonight I held my own, and let tears fall. 

It's only eight days. It's only forever.

Winter Nights

My worry is like a shadow. At times it is before me, at times it is behind me, but it never leaves me.

The sun shines brightly on my life, the blessings the light brings reflect off the golden hair of my children, brilliant rays that bring peace and clarity. The shadow is behind me, distant and small.

Yet, some days there is a cloud, some days the darkness looms, some days I cannot break free of its shade. Larger than life, it grows to blot out the sun. I cling to the truths I know: the sun still shines, I just can't see it.

In those moments, let me cling to you. No words will dispel the dark, but let me feel your strength when I can't summon mine.

Don't say what I know, that all will be well, that all is for a reason, that all works for good. These mantras play in my head, and yet they cannot always be a flame in the cold abyss. But if I could rest in your arms, and dream in your love, the shadow becomes a solace; only with you.

Please be still. Please be silent. Please show me what I can't see for myself.

Just in this moment. Just for a little while.

The 45th Parallel

"Divorce is always good news. I know that sounds weird but it's true, because no good marriage ever ended in divorce." - Louis C.K.

Friday night I was driving with the kids toward Salem, OR. At one point we passed a sign that said "The 45th parallel: half way between the equator and the north pole." It reminded me of the first time I crossed the continental divide, a moment made intrinsically valuable for no other reason than I had never been there before, and was excited about what was on the other side.

On the other side of the 45th Parallel is Müsh.

Interactions with him make me more and less of what I am: More peaceful, less worried. More loving, less hateful. More forgiving, less bitter. More calm, less angry. More secure, less vulnerable. This is accomplished in one way, in my opinion - he simply lets me be. Extraordinary.

I started this post with that quote because I feel there is an expectation of certain behavior, particularly in the Christian community, during a divorce. I myself have lain expectations on people in the past of what I feel their behavior should have been at a time like this.

I've had to go back and eat the well meaning advice I gave to them, a massive serving of humble and "walk a mile" pie.

The process of divorce is quite terrible. But the results, at least of mine, have been astronomically better than the entirety of my marriage. What I've learned about God, love and about myself in the last six months is more knowledge than I've gained in the 12 years I was with the Marine. Hard won, to be sure, but worth it, because now I get to experience something totally new: being valued in a relationship for who I am, not for who I could be if I work super, super hard at it all of the time.

Müsh is someone I've known for years, a member of a family I love dearly. Consequently, he's seen me at some of the worst moments of my life, at my most unguarded and imperfect. And it was, in fact, in one of those moments that he saw something of worth in me. Imagine being esteemed when you are at your lowest point. Like I said, extraordinary.

One moment with him is worth more than thousands without him. One day with him brings more joy and laughter than years prior. So don't pity me for the break of my marriage. Don't feel sad for me, because things didn't work "as they should have."

All is exactly as it should be, because love grows on either side of the parallel.

HTTR

*to the tune of "Friends in Low Places" by Garth Brooks. Ben, this one is for you. Start prepping your vocal chords, my brother.*

Blame it all on my faith,
I just texted Kate,
To bet against next Sunday's game.
The Pat's and the 'Skins,
Let the the battle begin,
And may the loser be shamed.

So my teams three and four,
Maybe somehow they'll score,
Against the Pat's defensive line.
If Cousin's can lead,
And Garcon can receive,
I feel it will turn out just fine.

Cause I'm a Redskins fan,
Whatever, whenever,
Every week I believe,
They'll keep it together,
It hasn't gone that way.
But we'll be ok.
Yeah, RG3 should've been a never,
And it's hard to see the team getting better,
But I'm a fan,
Whatever, whenever.

So I guess I was wrong,
I forgot about Gronk,
Edelman, Brady and Blount.
Another Patriots win,
They did it again,
Dominated, and wore my team out.

Yet I'm not gonna freak,
I'll wait till next week,
In seven days things will look great.
Meanwhile, I lost the bet,
And she won't let me forget:
This song's for the Patriots and Kate.

Cause I'm a fan,
Whatever, whenever,
Every week I believe,
They'll keep it together,
Every week I'm let down,
But I still stick around.
And every game feels like forever,
But I can't give up on this sad endeavor,
Cause I'm a fan,
Whatever, whenever.
 

The Pizza Is Real

You've known me your entire life. If you know one thing about me, you know that I love pizza. I've always loved pizza. I've always wanted a pizza to call my own.

One day, I walk into a pizza place and decide I will eat no other pizza but the pizza from this place. For better or worse. Till death do us part.

For twelve years, I do just that. I never get tired of that pizza, though very sad that it's starting to make me feel miserable more and more. Still, this is the pizza I've chosen and by God, I'm going to stick with it if it kills me. Why? Because I love this pizza.

Then it happens. I find out the pizza isn't even real pizza. In fact, nothing about the pizza was true. The pizza is a lie. Not only is the pizza a lie, it's been giving itself out free while I've been having to pay all these years.

The pizza place closes its doors and moves elsewhere, to continue giving its fake contents out to people who either don't know or don't care.

This hasn't ruined pizza for me, though. I decide to move on. I try other, new pizza in rapid succession, hoping that any one of them will be better. Not hard to top, but in the end I give up, knowing that the right pizza might just have to be something that shows up.

Then I notice a pizza place that has been there the whole time, I'd just didn't see it because I was so focused on my twelve year pizza commitment that it didn't even occur to me until I was pizzaless. I think, "Ok, I'll give it a shot."

And guess what? It's the best pizza I've ever had. Ever. Eeeeeeeever. And because you've known me your whole life, and known the struggle is real, I rejoice at the chance to tell you, "I think I found new pizza!!" I'm ecstatic. I'm giddy. I'm so happy, I can't stop smiling at the very thought of this pizza.

I'm bursting at the seams with unfathomable joy when I tell you.

And the only thing you say is, "Ew."

Fine. I'm not going to share anything about the pizza with you.

One Man's Trash

After the ex moved out at the beginning of July, one of my dear friends suggested I jump into the dating game. Why wait? God knows my ex hadn't and that was while I was still "blissfully" married to him. I weighed that advice against the people who told me I needed to wait a year, at least, before jumping into a relationship. 

Dating is something I've never actually done before, at least not dating more than one person. I'd only ever been with my ex. What do people even do? As a young lady, I was taught that dating was specifically for the purpose of finding your mate. Is it any surprise I married the first guy I dated? And while that isn't untrue, it turns out you can go out with a person and have absolutely no intention of ever marrying them. 

Dating for fun. It's possible. Who knew?

I stood on the precipice of this vast canyon of unknown experiences and was given this additional, and life changing, piece of advice. 

"Kate, there will be men you want to hang out with, and men you want to sleep with. The trick is finding the one you want to do both with." As I contemplated stepping over the edge, I didn't hear the added, "and you'll probably have to go through a lot before you find him."

This is not the post to talk about the descent and what manner of things I found there. Oh no. This is the post to tell you about two things I've learned:

First, unless you have an idea of what you're worth, you will put up with a lot of things you ought not to for longer than you ought to. Take it from me, someone who denied my marriage had actually been very bad for a very long time. 

Second, my new mantra is "truth and perspective." 

I am shocked at the way my ex sees me. It's ugly. In his mind, I've been as ugly to him for years as he is ugly to me now. He doesn't see me as I am, and I no longer see him as who I thought he was all this time. According to him, I've been worthless. Worse than that, I've been a soul-sucking leech, the reason for his financial ruin, for his giving up the only job he ever knew, for his three little "consequences," twelve years of misery and, to date, his greatest regret. 

That hurt. But that's perspective without the balance of truth. Nothing will change it for him. 

And for a while I thought nothing would change it for me. I thought the world of my ex for a very long time, a lot of hero worship. For him to think those things of me is devastating and some of it really cut me to the core. 

But after a summer in the canyon of vast experiences, I can tell you that perspective always needs to be balanced with the truth. Not just his of me, but my own of myself. 

If I hadn't learned this before now, I would be second guessing something that happened to me recently. Someone I've known for a very long time looked at me and saw something valuable. I don't know what that means, where it will lead, or what will happen in the future. But I do know that while the perspective of one says I wasn't worth keeping, the perspective of another is that I'm worth having. 

Rathe than question the latter, I've decided to take it as truth. 

Maybe, just maybe, I can be treasure this time. 

Worthy

It was one of the most beautiful days. Blue sky for miles, and fluffy white clouds. Country roads and cool air. Early spring, just after Easter.

She was just a baby in the backseat, my oldest. Not yet two, with her mass of curly hair and her little cherub cheeks. I was in the passenger side, my brow furrowed with worry. We had a flight to catch back to California, and I was plagued by what I had to face there: a husband about to go on deployment, and a marriage that was crumbling.

I looked at him as he drove. He was my dear friend. He looked as he always did, pale skin, blue eyes, black shirt, scruffy and blonde and young. He always seemed so young to me, even though we were only a few years apart.

"What will I do?" I asked him. "What will I do if everything falls apart?" I wasn't strong back then, or at least I didn't see myself as such. The idea of being alone and raising a baby terrified me. I couldn't see beyond my fear.

He didn't take his eyes off the road as he answered.

"Give me a few years." He replied. "Give me a few years to make something of myself, and I will take care of you."

I was touched by his words, surprised by what he meant by them. Something between us changed that day. He suddenly didn't seem so young. From a boy to a man, right before my eyes.

To my lasting regret, and for what I thought was his own good, I was dismissive. I responded with something like, "That's sweet."

I think of that conversation a lot these days. Give me a few years. Give me time, to prove to you what you surely must know. The offer of security. The offer of stability. The offer of love. Give me time to be worthy of you.

He felt I wouldn't take him as he was. He was right, but for the wrong reasons. Five months after that conversation, he was driving that same car and was in a fatal accident. It was only after his death that I understood that he wasn't unworthy of my consideration. I was wholly unworthy of his.

Over five years have passed. I find myself in much the same circumstances, with more to worry about. With three little kids instead of one. But I am not afraid. The marriage did crumble, but I haven't crumbled with it. There is strength, and at its source is the will to do anything for the ones that I love. At its source is a wellspring of love given to me unconditionally that I was to reciprocate.

I will make something of myself. Give me a few years. Give me time to be worthy.