Friday, May 3, 2013
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
"Honestly, I love you": A Family Topic
When it comes to relationships, I've heard it said that openness and honesty are the key to making it work. However, in my own experience, I've seen that this is not entirely true (which is a little ironic). This is not to say that honesty isn't important. No relationship can survive inside a web of lies. But it's a fact that the more "open and honest" we are with each other about our thoughts or feelings, the worse our relationships become.
I was stuck in this mentality about "openness" when my husband and I were newly weds. Those first few months were the hardest of our entire lives, and I still fear sometimes that the heartstrings that were ripped have never completely recovered. What should have been our blissful honeymoon time together became a nightmare of confusion. I blame myself for much of this.
I can still see myself dropped to my knees by the side of the road, my eyes dried out from all the tears. I know that Drew is walking up beside me, but I don't want him there right now. I can't find the answers with him, but he's all I got. I'm miles away from my family, and my other friends have all moved on. I don't know what's going on with me, but I know that it's been eating at me for a long time. Drew is rightfully confused by my anguish. He wants to help, and I keep pushing him away. "I'm scared", I finally blurt out. "I think... I made a mistake." While I am still looking for answers I say, "I lied to you. I lied to myself. I was in a lot of pain because of Ben, and I think I just tried to force this to make the pain go away. I lied and I'm sorry. I'm not in love with you."
So much of what was said was just out of fear and personal frustration, but I chose to vocalize it in front of him. (Not a good idea.) I know that he is my husband and I should feel free to show that kind of vulnerability in front of him, but what I was doing was bringing him into my own confusion. Under emotional distress, I would present my thoughts and feelings about our relationship as facts when in reality they were just me thinking out loud. And although these "talks" would eventually bring a resolution, my husband should not have become both the mediator and the punching bag for my emotions.
Many of us don't like to bring in an outside party to these troubling events in our lives. We want to "keep it in the family". We don't want to bring shame to our family name. It's pride and fear that stand in the way. We would rather keep things the way they are - a total mess - than to give up our family "secrets". I know this all to well. I lived it out as a child.
I had a friend from my youth group at church who was there for me when ever I needed someone to talk to. Jayme was someone that I finally let inside my world. She was the one I would call upon when things got "ugly" at home. Although, she didn't know it, but my only expectation of her was just to be there, to listen. I needed someone on the outside to remind me that I wasn't the problem; that I wasn't the cause of everything that went bad. One evening, when my dad was looking for his "punching bag", I gave Jayme a call. When she picked up I was hysterical with tears. I don't even remember the specifics of what my dad had done that day, because to me, it was just another day. But Jayme after talking to me and hearing my immediate pain, decided the best course of action was to get an authority figure involved. Not that the thought hadn't ever occurred to me as well, but I had thought ahead to what the overall outcome would be, and figured that things would just get worse for me. Then there would be no denying to everyone else in my family that I had caused the problem. If I had told on my dad to the police or someone that you would think is there to help then I would breaking up our "happy" home. I would be the divider. I would be the traitor, the snitch. Because this is our family, and family is supposed to have that super special bond, a bond that no "outsider" could ever fully understand.
We fight with our family like no other human being on earth. We tell things, secret things, things that we would wish stay only on the inside. We show off the ugly, the unbathed, the unkept side of ourselves to our families. And we do this not as a leap of faith, and certainly not because we love them the most and we wish only the best for them. We do this because we are unable to keep up the artificial act, the one that we put on for everyone else. The make-up has to come off sometime. So because they (our loved ones) have already been exposed to the ugly, and they haven't left, we find acceptable. And we might even say, "This is me. Love it or leave it." Of course, for those who are faced with the "Leave it" choice lived out, there is a reawakening of what is more important; me or them. Perhaps, we forget that it's not by contract or law or even blood that we should all be living together. It's not sharing the same last name that makes us more special than the rest. It's in the choices we make, to love, to stay, to see past the imperfections, to forgive. I think we forget and we take for grant it that each individual in our home, makes these same choices everyday of their life with us. And I could go on talking for hours about how we are all so self absorbed (some of us to the point of sociopathic tendencies, no sympathy left for anyone else but our self), but I think the solution is found in the choice.
The "choice" gives us hope.
I can't change my circumstances of a bad morning. I can't choose who my parents are, or make my husband be every way I want him to. But their actions do not leave me helpless. I have a choice.
I can choose to love. I can choose to not raise my voice in anger at my children, before I send them off to school. I can choose to not let everything that comes to mind slip out of my mouth before I've had the chance to really (prayerfully) consider its necessity and timing. I can choose to continue being who I've been before, or to be someone different.
Yes, there are variables involved. There are other people in my world that will have an influence in my behavior. Yes, I may sometimes fall into the same pattern as before. But I still have the power of choice. God can help to make that choice a good one, if I let him -but it is mine. I don't have to allow those past choices and regret be the end of my story. I have a choice for that too.
In recovery groups they have a saying that I like to hold onto and remember, "Live one day at a time."
I think that's what it takes to make our family into something we don't have to hide behind closed doors. We start with ourselves. Living in a way that makes us proud of who we are that day, and not filled with regret. It won't always be easy, and just like any good habit, it will take practice to form. But the situation is not hopeless, and I think that's reason to rejoice. Amen? Yes, there is hope for our families! And it starts with us.
I was stuck in this mentality about "openness" when my husband and I were newly weds. Those first few months were the hardest of our entire lives, and I still fear sometimes that the heartstrings that were ripped have never completely recovered. What should have been our blissful honeymoon time together became a nightmare of confusion. I blame myself for much of this.
I can still see myself dropped to my knees by the side of the road, my eyes dried out from all the tears. I know that Drew is walking up beside me, but I don't want him there right now. I can't find the answers with him, but he's all I got. I'm miles away from my family, and my other friends have all moved on. I don't know what's going on with me, but I know that it's been eating at me for a long time. Drew is rightfully confused by my anguish. He wants to help, and I keep pushing him away. "I'm scared", I finally blurt out. "I think... I made a mistake." While I am still looking for answers I say, "I lied to you. I lied to myself. I was in a lot of pain because of Ben, and I think I just tried to force this to make the pain go away. I lied and I'm sorry. I'm not in love with you."
So much of what was said was just out of fear and personal frustration, but I chose to vocalize it in front of him. (Not a good idea.) I know that he is my husband and I should feel free to show that kind of vulnerability in front of him, but what I was doing was bringing him into my own confusion. Under emotional distress, I would present my thoughts and feelings about our relationship as facts when in reality they were just me thinking out loud. And although these "talks" would eventually bring a resolution, my husband should not have become both the mediator and the punching bag for my emotions.
Many of us don't like to bring in an outside party to these troubling events in our lives. We want to "keep it in the family". We don't want to bring shame to our family name. It's pride and fear that stand in the way. We would rather keep things the way they are - a total mess - than to give up our family "secrets". I know this all to well. I lived it out as a child.
I had a friend from my youth group at church who was there for me when ever I needed someone to talk to. Jayme was someone that I finally let inside my world. She was the one I would call upon when things got "ugly" at home. Although, she didn't know it, but my only expectation of her was just to be there, to listen. I needed someone on the outside to remind me that I wasn't the problem; that I wasn't the cause of everything that went bad. One evening, when my dad was looking for his "punching bag", I gave Jayme a call. When she picked up I was hysterical with tears. I don't even remember the specifics of what my dad had done that day, because to me, it was just another day. But Jayme after talking to me and hearing my immediate pain, decided the best course of action was to get an authority figure involved. Not that the thought hadn't ever occurred to me as well, but I had thought ahead to what the overall outcome would be, and figured that things would just get worse for me. Then there would be no denying to everyone else in my family that I had caused the problem. If I had told on my dad to the police or someone that you would think is there to help then I would breaking up our "happy" home. I would be the divider. I would be the traitor, the snitch. Because this is our family, and family is supposed to have that super special bond, a bond that no "outsider" could ever fully understand.
We fight with our family like no other human being on earth. We tell things, secret things, things that we would wish stay only on the inside. We show off the ugly, the unbathed, the unkept side of ourselves to our families. And we do this not as a leap of faith, and certainly not because we love them the most and we wish only the best for them. We do this because we are unable to keep up the artificial act, the one that we put on for everyone else. The make-up has to come off sometime. So because they (our loved ones) have already been exposed to the ugly, and they haven't left, we find acceptable. And we might even say, "This is me. Love it or leave it." Of course, for those who are faced with the "Leave it" choice lived out, there is a reawakening of what is more important; me or them. Perhaps, we forget that it's not by contract or law or even blood that we should all be living together. It's not sharing the same last name that makes us more special than the rest. It's in the choices we make, to love, to stay, to see past the imperfections, to forgive. I think we forget and we take for grant it that each individual in our home, makes these same choices everyday of their life with us. And I could go on talking for hours about how we are all so self absorbed (some of us to the point of sociopathic tendencies, no sympathy left for anyone else but our self), but I think the solution is found in the choice.
The "choice" gives us hope.
I can't change my circumstances of a bad morning. I can't choose who my parents are, or make my husband be every way I want him to. But their actions do not leave me helpless. I have a choice.
I can choose to love. I can choose to not raise my voice in anger at my children, before I send them off to school. I can choose to not let everything that comes to mind slip out of my mouth before I've had the chance to really (prayerfully) consider its necessity and timing. I can choose to continue being who I've been before, or to be someone different.
Yes, there are variables involved. There are other people in my world that will have an influence in my behavior. Yes, I may sometimes fall into the same pattern as before. But I still have the power of choice. God can help to make that choice a good one, if I let him -but it is mine. I don't have to allow those past choices and regret be the end of my story. I have a choice for that too.
In recovery groups they have a saying that I like to hold onto and remember, "Live one day at a time."
I think that's what it takes to make our family into something we don't have to hide behind closed doors. We start with ourselves. Living in a way that makes us proud of who we are that day, and not filled with regret. It won't always be easy, and just like any good habit, it will take practice to form. But the situation is not hopeless, and I think that's reason to rejoice. Amen? Yes, there is hope for our families! And it starts with us.
Friday, April 5, 2013
A Family Topic
After taking a poll of what kind of topics my readers would like for me to talk about, I realize that the most popular question is about my family- my current family. Although many of them wrote back to me wanting to hear about cutesy-wootsy things that my kids are doing (this ain't that kind of blog, folks) I realized that they do, in fact, bring up a very good topic: What goes on behind the closed doors of my house?
There is all the things that you don't see on that drive right before we open up those doors to the church or school or the grocery store. We all know that we hide the "ugly" family interactions from the rest of our world, but my question is, "What makes us care more about outsiders than we care about each other? And why is there so much "ugly" to hide?" After all, these are the people that we claim to love the most.
It is still easy for me to recall those moments of shame and heartache that went on within what used to be, my immediate family. We prayed together. We read the Bible together, every evening before bed. And we treated each other worse than we had treated anyone else EVER. But it's easy for me to discard those memories as dysfunctional and not the normal behavior of a rational family because we had some other issues that were deemed unacceptable by even The Law's standards. So now what do I say about this new family that I've helped create? Why is it that I can honestly attest that I have never been as hateful and angry with another human being (not even my own father who was so hateful to me) as I have been with my very own husband - my soul mate, my best friend?
Am I damaged? Am I just another statistic doomed to repeat the hurt to someone close the way my family hurt me? Or am I just married to the wrong person? Should I just keep looking for that someone who makes me feel happy and loved all the time? I don't think so.
Don't get me wrong, I am aware of that possibility but I think that this is more common than just repetition of generations. And happiness is fleeting just like every other emotion. Even anger cannot last forever.
I've heard it said that if two best friends spend the entire weekend together, they will hate each other by the time it is over. It is possible that when we spend enough time with another human being we our bound to slip up and show off our ugly side.
Still I can't get over this nagging feeling that if we care so much and if we are aware of what is at stake (our relationship/ their feeling of self worth/ and Love being lived out and felt from both sides) we would not treat each other so carelessly.
We would care for our new car or our expensive furniture. Heck, sometimes we baby "our babies" (meaning, our hobbies) more than we baby our own kids. So should I sum up the answer to this question by simply saying, "We are all selfish."? Well that is certainly a true statement and something to consider, but how do I apply that to people that we claim to love more than stuff?
As you can tell, I am asking a lot of questions and finding very little in the answer category. I believe we need more than an answer. We need a solution.
Take my typical morning routine for example:
I wake up. I try to get my kids to wake up. I try to do this without raising my voice, because I know how yelling can quickly escalate into a bad mood. I prepare their clothes and get their breakfast ready. I tell them to get dressed while I am finishing up my own routine. And because they are forgetful and stubborn at ages 6 and 8, I must remind them of every detail of what "getting dressed" means. I say, "Put your socks on, your shirt on, your pants, and don't forget to change your underwear" every morning.
After breakfast is over, I tell them to quickly go brush their teeth and comb their hair. I also prepare my son's lunch while they our doing what they should in the bathroom. Then, if everything else goes according to my "brilliant" morning plan, we have just enough time for me to call to them (in a pleasant voice) to come get their coats and shoes on and to head out the door. Everyone smiling as we drive away....
But no. A lot of the times, that end result does not happen. Why? Because someone threw a monkey wrench in my routine and now I am off track and running late. This is the unknown variable, which could range from: my son or daughter playing with their toys instead of getting breakfast; or maybe it's a fight about which shoes my daughter should wear to school that day; or it could be a sock is missing "suddenly" from the pair of socks that I just handed over to my son. Or maybe it's something that I'm not involved in at all, but it's something that I get pulled into; a fight in the bathroom broke out over the toothpaste or if we happen to make it all the way to the driveway without a fight, there's probably something that was left behind my car that I am about to back over that my children were told previously to put away.
Now, do I have an anger problem because I get upset about these things?
No. Well okay, maybe I could work on controlling what happens next a little better, and that, in fact, is where the problem lies.
If these were someone else's kids, and I was going through the same exact hectic morning routine with them, then why would I not raise my voice to the "outsiders" like I do to my own kids. - Kids, whom I, in all honesty, would rush over to save first if there was an emergency? This is my problem, and I don't understand it. If our morning goes awful and I send my child to school with tear streaked cheeks, than I am suffering the rest of the day with that guilt -sometimes longer. When my family is involved, I am literally capable of the most love and equally the greatest hate, in word and deed. I can become a real monster, and I know it, but I don't always know what I can do to stop it.
(This will be a two parter. Check back later for me to wrap it up. )
Disclaimer: I do not abuse my children. This is not a confession of any
unlawful wrongdoing.
There is all the things that you don't see on that drive right before we open up those doors to the church or school or the grocery store. We all know that we hide the "ugly" family interactions from the rest of our world, but my question is, "What makes us care more about outsiders than we care about each other? And why is there so much "ugly" to hide?" After all, these are the people that we claim to love the most.
It is still easy for me to recall those moments of shame and heartache that went on within what used to be, my immediate family. We prayed together. We read the Bible together, every evening before bed. And we treated each other worse than we had treated anyone else EVER. But it's easy for me to discard those memories as dysfunctional and not the normal behavior of a rational family because we had some other issues that were deemed unacceptable by even The Law's standards. So now what do I say about this new family that I've helped create? Why is it that I can honestly attest that I have never been as hateful and angry with another human being (not even my own father who was so hateful to me) as I have been with my very own husband - my soul mate, my best friend?
Am I damaged? Am I just another statistic doomed to repeat the hurt to someone close the way my family hurt me? Or am I just married to the wrong person? Should I just keep looking for that someone who makes me feel happy and loved all the time? I don't think so.
Don't get me wrong, I am aware of that possibility but I think that this is more common than just repetition of generations. And happiness is fleeting just like every other emotion. Even anger cannot last forever.
I've heard it said that if two best friends spend the entire weekend together, they will hate each other by the time it is over. It is possible that when we spend enough time with another human being we our bound to slip up and show off our ugly side.
Still I can't get over this nagging feeling that if we care so much and if we are aware of what is at stake (our relationship/ their feeling of self worth/ and Love being lived out and felt from both sides) we would not treat each other so carelessly.
We would care for our new car or our expensive furniture. Heck, sometimes we baby "our babies" (meaning, our hobbies) more than we baby our own kids. So should I sum up the answer to this question by simply saying, "We are all selfish."? Well that is certainly a true statement and something to consider, but how do I apply that to people that we claim to love more than stuff?
As you can tell, I am asking a lot of questions and finding very little in the answer category. I believe we need more than an answer. We need a solution.
Take my typical morning routine for example:
I wake up. I try to get my kids to wake up. I try to do this without raising my voice, because I know how yelling can quickly escalate into a bad mood. I prepare their clothes and get their breakfast ready. I tell them to get dressed while I am finishing up my own routine. And because they are forgetful and stubborn at ages 6 and 8, I must remind them of every detail of what "getting dressed" means. I say, "Put your socks on, your shirt on, your pants, and don't forget to change your underwear" every morning.
After breakfast is over, I tell them to quickly go brush their teeth and comb their hair. I also prepare my son's lunch while they our doing what they should in the bathroom. Then, if everything else goes according to my "brilliant" morning plan, we have just enough time for me to call to them (in a pleasant voice) to come get their coats and shoes on and to head out the door. Everyone smiling as we drive away....
But no. A lot of the times, that end result does not happen. Why? Because someone threw a monkey wrench in my routine and now I am off track and running late. This is the unknown variable, which could range from: my son or daughter playing with their toys instead of getting breakfast; or maybe it's a fight about which shoes my daughter should wear to school that day; or it could be a sock is missing "suddenly" from the pair of socks that I just handed over to my son. Or maybe it's something that I'm not involved in at all, but it's something that I get pulled into; a fight in the bathroom broke out over the toothpaste or if we happen to make it all the way to the driveway without a fight, there's probably something that was left behind my car that I am about to back over that my children were told previously to put away.
Now, do I have an anger problem because I get upset about these things?
No. Well okay, maybe I could work on controlling what happens next a little better, and that, in fact, is where the problem lies.
If these were someone else's kids, and I was going through the same exact hectic morning routine with them, then why would I not raise my voice to the "outsiders" like I do to my own kids. - Kids, whom I, in all honesty, would rush over to save first if there was an emergency? This is my problem, and I don't understand it. If our morning goes awful and I send my child to school with tear streaked cheeks, than I am suffering the rest of the day with that guilt -sometimes longer. When my family is involved, I am literally capable of the most love and equally the greatest hate, in word and deed. I can become a real monster, and I know it, but I don't always know what I can do to stop it.
(This will be a two parter. Check back later for me to wrap it up. )
Disclaimer: I do not abuse my children. This is not a confession of any
unlawful wrongdoing.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
My Better Half (part 2)
I'm not as bad as I think.
Just ask my husband. He tells me all the time how attractive I am to him, but at least once a day I look in the mirror and see something ugly. I see someone who needs work (lots of work). Someone who is a million miles from perfection - something that, on my superficial surface I consider reachable and even covet in other people that I meet. Can you see it? Even now, I have trouble talking about the good in me without considering the negative.
This constant self ridicule even bleeds into my relationship with God. I have no problem with the verse found in Philippians 2, where it tells me to "consider others better than yourself." But as they say, the person with the lowest self esteem is likely the most selfish - so I am likely missing the meaning of the word "humility" there.
I had a friend named Dee Dee in college. She had a very unusual personality -At least, so I thought when I first met her. Dee Dee came prancing (literally) through the dorm hallways passing out wildflowers that she had just picked to anyone and everyone she could see. I thought some of the things she did and how cheerful she was a bit over the top. But that was just the melancholy me, the better part of me thought she was fantastic (like sunshine on a cloudy day)! No one in the room could escape her contagious laughter, and the way she always could find something to smile about was truly an amazing feat to me. Dee Dee was a God send to our dorm, there was no doubt about it. She made us look at life, look at the world, and see something innocent and beautiful again. And I was thankful that we were friends.
Somewhere down the line of people she met that year on campus, that cheerfulness, that beautiful light, would soon be snuffed out. A guy friend that had meant more than "friend" to her had made her feel like less than perfect. He had told her that she laughed too loud or too often or perhaps had just pointed out just how different she was to the rest of civilized society and it was about time for her to "grow up". I saw a change in her, and I felt in me as well. Someone had crushed my friend's spirit and in the process had robbed us all of her contagious joy. Dee Dee seemed to feel even worse at night. She started talking very negatively about herself. This new Dee Dee was shocking to me. I'd never seen her so depressed. I didn't think it was possible. Dee Dee had those down times like me? When she would talk with me, she would make herself sound like the absolute worst of the worst, saying things like, "How could God love someone like me?" Dee Dee so perfect, so special, so innocent, and devoted to God and school; she is asking this too?? How can that be?
Do we all just assume that human opinion and God's are interchangeable? Or are the people around us just more real to us than Him and thus more valuable?
As a new and improved blogging me, I hope to be less of a Debbie Downer and more upbeat and real. I want my readers to know through my writing that indeed hope is not lost. We all go through trials and not one of us is the image of perfection. I, just like Dee Dee, have more than just one side that everyone sees, and that means I'm complex, not devious and hidden. I am more than my struggles. I am more than my jokes (thank God). I am not the worst of the worst, but I am a sinner. And I am encouraged by that because my God has a habit of using people just, like, me. Where I am weak He is strong.
(Philippians 4:13)
(I encourage you to watch the movie "Machine Gun Preacher" or if you do not want all the four letter words and violence, you can google it and read about the real man behind the movie. I know the guy's not perfect, and you might not agree with every judgement call he makes, but to me it's just another amazing story of how God takes the "riff raff" of this world and puts them to work for His kingdom. I don't know about you, but I find that to be very encouraging.)
Just ask my husband. He tells me all the time how attractive I am to him, but at least once a day I look in the mirror and see something ugly. I see someone who needs work (lots of work). Someone who is a million miles from perfection - something that, on my superficial surface I consider reachable and even covet in other people that I meet. Can you see it? Even now, I have trouble talking about the good in me without considering the negative.
This constant self ridicule even bleeds into my relationship with God. I have no problem with the verse found in Philippians 2, where it tells me to "consider others better than yourself." But as they say, the person with the lowest self esteem is likely the most selfish - so I am likely missing the meaning of the word "humility" there.
I had a friend named Dee Dee in college. She had a very unusual personality -At least, so I thought when I first met her. Dee Dee came prancing (literally) through the dorm hallways passing out wildflowers that she had just picked to anyone and everyone she could see. I thought some of the things she did and how cheerful she was a bit over the top. But that was just the melancholy me, the better part of me thought she was fantastic (like sunshine on a cloudy day)! No one in the room could escape her contagious laughter, and the way she always could find something to smile about was truly an amazing feat to me. Dee Dee was a God send to our dorm, there was no doubt about it. She made us look at life, look at the world, and see something innocent and beautiful again. And I was thankful that we were friends.
Somewhere down the line of people she met that year on campus, that cheerfulness, that beautiful light, would soon be snuffed out. A guy friend that had meant more than "friend" to her had made her feel like less than perfect. He had told her that she laughed too loud or too often or perhaps had just pointed out just how different she was to the rest of civilized society and it was about time for her to "grow up". I saw a change in her, and I felt in me as well. Someone had crushed my friend's spirit and in the process had robbed us all of her contagious joy. Dee Dee seemed to feel even worse at night. She started talking very negatively about herself. This new Dee Dee was shocking to me. I'd never seen her so depressed. I didn't think it was possible. Dee Dee had those down times like me? When she would talk with me, she would make herself sound like the absolute worst of the worst, saying things like, "How could God love someone like me?" Dee Dee so perfect, so special, so innocent, and devoted to God and school; she is asking this too?? How can that be?
Do we all just assume that human opinion and God's are interchangeable? Or are the people around us just more real to us than Him and thus more valuable?
As a new and improved blogging me, I hope to be less of a Debbie Downer and more upbeat and real. I want my readers to know through my writing that indeed hope is not lost. We all go through trials and not one of us is the image of perfection. I, just like Dee Dee, have more than just one side that everyone sees, and that means I'm complex, not devious and hidden. I am more than my struggles. I am more than my jokes (thank God). I am not the worst of the worst, but I am a sinner. And I am encouraged by that because my God has a habit of using people just, like, me. Where I am weak He is strong.
(Philippians 4:13)
(I encourage you to watch the movie "Machine Gun Preacher" or if you do not want all the four letter words and violence, you can google it and read about the real man behind the movie. I know the guy's not perfect, and you might not agree with every judgement call he makes, but to me it's just another amazing story of how God takes the "riff raff" of this world and puts them to work for His kingdom. I don't know about you, but I find that to be very encouraging.)
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
My Better Half
Shock and Awe
-If you want people to pay attention, you have to be willing to pay the price. Just look at Lady Gaga or Katy Perry. Something tells me they don't dress the same when they're lounging in their living room. Many people are certainly not what they seem, and as paranoid as that sounds it's true. We are more than meets the eye. Don't judge a book by its cover...and all those other tired cliches.
As you may have noticed, I have not written anything on here in months. Not since the "rumor" (which was never really much of a bushfire to put out), nevertheless it made me go "huh?". Am I really as bad as I make myself sound?
Ok, I get it, sin is sin. Are my thoughts running away from me to another life with someone other than my husband sinful? - Yes. Was my moment of ecstasy (I say that sarcastically) in the arms of a male entertainer a big "Whoops!" -Definitely. And it was always my worst fear that Christian parents would shield their children from me if they ever new my inner "gay" struggles, but I never fathomed that it would be because of a sexual issue (i.e. pedophile). Wow! You can believe that took me back a few steps. I needed to seriously reevaluate how I presented myself.
In my effort to relate to my fellow Christian college alumni who have chosen the "alternative lifestyle", I wanted to show all my darkness. I wanted it to be widely known just to what extremes that I was willing to go to save my friends from possibly the biggest mistake of their life. (Feel free to quote me on that.) It was my hope that they would read these posts and see how close my life seems to theirs. We could journey to find the answers together...Answer the unrelenting question, "Why are some people gay?" or more personally, "Why do I feel this way?"
My favorite Christian author, Philip Yancey, uses this method when he writes. He asks the hard questions that many of us self conscious people would never say aloud. Questions like: Why would a loving God allow my child to die? Or -Where is God when life sucks (my paraphrase)?
It is possible that he already has the answers to these tough questions before he sits down to write, but I like to think that he started out like the reader, asking.
When I sat down to form this blog, I had an idea to write about my life. I would talk about everything I went through as a kid and progress till the way my life is now; showing along the way how God was there all along and I just needed to be real with Him and believe. I thought I could change lives by letting them hear and relate to my own. After all that is what a testimony is for.
But as I sat down to type it all out, I realized that the questions were still there. I had never found my answers to them in college. I just stopped asking.
My resolve was in the scriptures that I researched. They never answered the "Why?" I couldn't love another woman like that, or why I felt that I had been born different from other girls. But I remembered the story of Job and all it's "Why?"s left unanswered. Like why would God have such a casual meeting with the devil (I always imagined that they were having their discussion over tea and cookies - I guess I thought he was British or something) or How could God just kill off all of Job's children over some silly bet? Where is their redeemer? How did they get mixed up in this? Could we all just be some sort of collateral damage to someonelse's test of faith? It sounds like the unsatisfying punchline of an extremely morbid joke. (...Did you hear the one about Job?) But in the end, what does God say to Job? He says, (Who are you to question me? I am the Creator of all things, just as I have the right to give, I have the right to take away. I am in control of this - not you). What God actually says is a series of questions for Job to answer, starting in Job 38. (Google it) Job's response is almost speechlessness.
2 “I know that you can do all things;
no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
3 You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’
Surely I spoke of things I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me to know." -NIV
My mom used to tell me, "Love it, or leave it." Basically, she was telling me not to complain about it. There was no point to it. It's not like my protests would change anything. I believe that is where Job's resolve was found. God is God, and I am not. I have to trust Him, what other option do I have? -Love Him or Leave Him. In college, those were my options. I had to trust Him at his word, even though that meant that some of my questions would go unanswered. He created the world. He created me. He loved me even before I loved Him, and He's telling me, don't do this. My choice is simple: either I trust Him with my life or I don't.
This blog pushed the tough subjects for me. I wanted to ignore this part of my life, just leave it behind forever and not look back. But something was bringing me back. And after becoming reunited with some old friends, the "Why?" behind my struggles was coming into light.
Lately I've been thinking I went too far. I think cleaning out my closet was all for a good purpose, but to quote one of my close friends that confided in, "Oh Kayt, you are too hard on yourself." I think she's right.
I have been honest about all the bad, but I leave out all the good in me. That has always been a struggle for me, as I'm sure many of you can relate.
In my effort to remain humble, I think myself horrible.
(Stay tuned for Part 2)
-If you want people to pay attention, you have to be willing to pay the price. Just look at Lady Gaga or Katy Perry. Something tells me they don't dress the same when they're lounging in their living room. Many people are certainly not what they seem, and as paranoid as that sounds it's true. We are more than meets the eye. Don't judge a book by its cover...and all those other tired cliches.
As you may have noticed, I have not written anything on here in months. Not since the "rumor" (which was never really much of a bushfire to put out), nevertheless it made me go "huh?". Am I really as bad as I make myself sound?
Ok, I get it, sin is sin. Are my thoughts running away from me to another life with someone other than my husband sinful? - Yes. Was my moment of ecstasy (I say that sarcastically) in the arms of a male entertainer a big "Whoops!" -Definitely. And it was always my worst fear that Christian parents would shield their children from me if they ever new my inner "gay" struggles, but I never fathomed that it would be because of a sexual issue (i.e. pedophile). Wow! You can believe that took me back a few steps. I needed to seriously reevaluate how I presented myself.
In my effort to relate to my fellow Christian college alumni who have chosen the "alternative lifestyle", I wanted to show all my darkness. I wanted it to be widely known just to what extremes that I was willing to go to save my friends from possibly the biggest mistake of their life. (Feel free to quote me on that.) It was my hope that they would read these posts and see how close my life seems to theirs. We could journey to find the answers together...Answer the unrelenting question, "Why are some people gay?" or more personally, "Why do I feel this way?"
My favorite Christian author, Philip Yancey, uses this method when he writes. He asks the hard questions that many of us self conscious people would never say aloud. Questions like: Why would a loving God allow my child to die? Or -Where is God when life sucks (my paraphrase)?
It is possible that he already has the answers to these tough questions before he sits down to write, but I like to think that he started out like the reader, asking.
When I sat down to form this blog, I had an idea to write about my life. I would talk about everything I went through as a kid and progress till the way my life is now; showing along the way how God was there all along and I just needed to be real with Him and believe. I thought I could change lives by letting them hear and relate to my own. After all that is what a testimony is for.
But as I sat down to type it all out, I realized that the questions were still there. I had never found my answers to them in college. I just stopped asking.
My resolve was in the scriptures that I researched. They never answered the "Why?" I couldn't love another woman like that, or why I felt that I had been born different from other girls. But I remembered the story of Job and all it's "Why?"s left unanswered. Like why would God have such a casual meeting with the devil (I always imagined that they were having their discussion over tea and cookies - I guess I thought he was British or something) or How could God just kill off all of Job's children over some silly bet? Where is their redeemer? How did they get mixed up in this? Could we all just be some sort of collateral damage to someonelse's test of faith? It sounds like the unsatisfying punchline of an extremely morbid joke. (...Did you hear the one about Job?) But in the end, what does God say to Job? He says, (Who are you to question me? I am the Creator of all things, just as I have the right to give, I have the right to take away. I am in control of this - not you). What God actually says is a series of questions for Job to answer, starting in Job 38. (Google it) Job's response is almost speechlessness.
"Then Job replied to the Lord:
2 “I know that you can do all things;
no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
3 You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’
Surely I spoke of things I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me to know." -NIV
My mom used to tell me, "Love it, or leave it." Basically, she was telling me not to complain about it. There was no point to it. It's not like my protests would change anything. I believe that is where Job's resolve was found. God is God, and I am not. I have to trust Him, what other option do I have? -Love Him or Leave Him. In college, those were my options. I had to trust Him at his word, even though that meant that some of my questions would go unanswered. He created the world. He created me. He loved me even before I loved Him, and He's telling me, don't do this. My choice is simple: either I trust Him with my life or I don't.
This blog pushed the tough subjects for me. I wanted to ignore this part of my life, just leave it behind forever and not look back. But something was bringing me back. And after becoming reunited with some old friends, the "Why?" behind my struggles was coming into light.
Lately I've been thinking I went too far. I think cleaning out my closet was all for a good purpose, but to quote one of my close friends that confided in, "Oh Kayt, you are too hard on yourself." I think she's right.
I have been honest about all the bad, but I leave out all the good in me. That has always been a struggle for me, as I'm sure many of you can relate.
In my effort to remain humble, I think myself horrible.
(Stay tuned for Part 2)
Friday, September 21, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
The Rumor Weed
A friend referred to me as a lesbian today and told me that I have no business being near or working closely with young girls. Well folks, the moment that we've all been waiting for has arrived. Go get your large forks and your flames. They are coming to take me down.
This past Sunday morning I was introduced to a new chapter of my testimony - opposition / ridicule / fear. Those of you that have been long time readers on here (or tried to keep up) can generally figure me out well enough to see that I don't refer to myself as a "lesbian" or gay, queer or any other label associated. In my eyes, there is only one label that I take pride in - "Christian". It's nonsensical that I would be the object of aggression from my very own church family. And up till this point I have actually learned to relax and trust other people (Christians) with the delicate subject of my life. Many have welcomed me with open arms and few to none with closed fists. Till now... And now, I'm one friend less.
Admittedly when I started this post, I had it in mind to "spill the beans" and to gather my readers in a rally to stand against these ridiculous lies!!! -to make me feel better (there is a safety in numbers.) But when I finally sat down to gather my thoughts, I had this burn in my chest that told me, "Don't do this."
Even though I use false names on here, the people involved know that I am talking about them, behind their back. (Oh yeah! Now you can see the hypocrisy.) Even though I am miffed about the whole ordeal, what right do I have to go and do the same? Several people directly tied to the gossip have already done their part to apologize -only one saying it to my face, but who's counting?
There's little reason to hold onto it and string it out further just so I can be angry. Eventually even righteous anger loses it's rightness.
The friend that started the rumor has yet to give up her pride and admit her unfaithfulness. But beyond her lack of remorse, it bothers me that just now I am seeing her true opinion of me. She thinks that I am a lesbian, and even worse than that she thinks that I could be something more...a pedophile. That's a little more than I am willing to overlook in a friendship. I trusted her (more than I should of) and she in turn, ripped my heart out and stomped on it. That's hard to forgive.
It wasn't that long ago, that I had done something similar to a long time friend of mine. Willow and I had kept in touch since college. She traveled many miles to come to be a part of my wedding (newborn baby in tow), so it was an easy choice to make the trip across the upper mid-west when it was her time to get hitched. She wouldn't believe it if I told her, but Willow has been a tremendous blessing to my life. Isn't it funny, how we take things for granted, right to the point where they are ready to wave goodbye forever? But I'm not laughing. I almost lost Willow's friendship and I did lose her trust all because I wanted a moment of someones attention.
Willow had in trusted me with many of her secrets over the years and so when she was feeling stressed in the days leading up to her wedding, she wasn't hesitant to vent her feelings to me. In her frustration she confessed feelings of anger toward one of her friends, and told me that she couldn't even figure why she had allowed her as part of the wedding party. Obviously, I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice and blab about the details on here. To say it in short, I leaked those details to her friend.
It happened sometime later over the web, and I knew what my motivations were...and they were NOT "holy". When it got back to Willow that I had "talked", I immediately knew what I was up against. A broken trust is no different than a broken heart, neither of them heal well and both take a lot of time. I was embarrassed to do so, but I told Willow the awful truth about why I had spoke to her friend about it. I told her all the gruesome details that sparked my betrayal, but none of that mattered to her. She seemed numb and let down instead of angry. Willow spoke not only of her misuse of trust in me , but in everyone that she had ever known. She made our dilemma sound like it was just another notch on her "this world sucks" pole. Which would make you think that I was off the hook since not just me but the WHOLE world has let her down. I did not take it that way, and I certainly did not want this to be the end of our friendship. I needed her in my life too bad for that to happen, but I didn't realize that until now. Although our correspondence was mostly through instant messages and email, if she could have seen me I would have been on my hands and knees, begging for her forgiveness. I knew that in this moment I may only have this one shot at convincing her that I'm sorry and pray that she does not let what we were just fade to black. A year or more has passed since then (they go by way too quickly to keep track), and we still talk from time to time, but I know that it might never be the same. I let myself get in the way of good judgement, and although I can commend myself for taking immediate action with an honest apology, our relationship still bares the consequence. So in conclusion I wish to leave you with this thought: When it comes to gossip, rumors, or breaking confidence; the mouth is not the enemy. The problem is in the heart.
This past Sunday morning I was introduced to a new chapter of my testimony - opposition / ridicule / fear. Those of you that have been long time readers on here (or tried to keep up) can generally figure me out well enough to see that I don't refer to myself as a "lesbian" or gay, queer or any other label associated. In my eyes, there is only one label that I take pride in - "Christian". It's nonsensical that I would be the object of aggression from my very own church family. And up till this point I have actually learned to relax and trust other people (Christians) with the delicate subject of my life. Many have welcomed me with open arms and few to none with closed fists. Till now... And now, I'm one friend less.
[It all started with a question. That's what she said. And then he was listening in as they talked. He couldn't believe his ears and went to a friend for a second opinion... An email was sent to a few someones who never knew. Then phone calls were made to make sure it wasn't a fake... The walls came down and the weeds began to grow. The lies were planted between half truths and Satan was laughing as my previous feeling of protection was on its way to unglued. She said I wrote a love letter, he said I was living another life, they said I might be dangerous, but that my husband thought it was alright. None had all the answers, but that didn't slow them down, from speaking about it more to more people who it didn't concern. All of them wondering what should be done without asking the only one who could give them answers...me.]I know this is vague and slightly weird to read, but that's just how silly a rumor can be.
Admittedly when I started this post, I had it in mind to "spill the beans" and to gather my readers in a rally to stand against these ridiculous lies!!! -to make me feel better (there is a safety in numbers.) But when I finally sat down to gather my thoughts, I had this burn in my chest that told me, "Don't do this."
Even though I use false names on here, the people involved know that I am talking about them, behind their back. (Oh yeah! Now you can see the hypocrisy.) Even though I am miffed about the whole ordeal, what right do I have to go and do the same? Several people directly tied to the gossip have already done their part to apologize -only one saying it to my face, but who's counting?
There's little reason to hold onto it and string it out further just so I can be angry. Eventually even righteous anger loses it's rightness.
The friend that started the rumor has yet to give up her pride and admit her unfaithfulness. But beyond her lack of remorse, it bothers me that just now I am seeing her true opinion of me. She thinks that I am a lesbian, and even worse than that she thinks that I could be something more...a pedophile. That's a little more than I am willing to overlook in a friendship. I trusted her (more than I should of) and she in turn, ripped my heart out and stomped on it. That's hard to forgive.
It wasn't that long ago, that I had done something similar to a long time friend of mine. Willow and I had kept in touch since college. She traveled many miles to come to be a part of my wedding (newborn baby in tow), so it was an easy choice to make the trip across the upper mid-west when it was her time to get hitched. She wouldn't believe it if I told her, but Willow has been a tremendous blessing to my life. Isn't it funny, how we take things for granted, right to the point where they are ready to wave goodbye forever? But I'm not laughing. I almost lost Willow's friendship and I did lose her trust all because I wanted a moment of someones attention.
Willow had in trusted me with many of her secrets over the years and so when she was feeling stressed in the days leading up to her wedding, she wasn't hesitant to vent her feelings to me. In her frustration she confessed feelings of anger toward one of her friends, and told me that she couldn't even figure why she had allowed her as part of the wedding party. Obviously, I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice and blab about the details on here. To say it in short, I leaked those details to her friend.
It happened sometime later over the web, and I knew what my motivations were...and they were NOT "holy". When it got back to Willow that I had "talked", I immediately knew what I was up against. A broken trust is no different than a broken heart, neither of them heal well and both take a lot of time. I was embarrassed to do so, but I told Willow the awful truth about why I had spoke to her friend about it. I told her all the gruesome details that sparked my betrayal, but none of that mattered to her. She seemed numb and let down instead of angry. Willow spoke not only of her misuse of trust in me , but in everyone that she had ever known. She made our dilemma sound like it was just another notch on her "this world sucks" pole. Which would make you think that I was off the hook since not just me but the WHOLE world has let her down. I did not take it that way, and I certainly did not want this to be the end of our friendship. I needed her in my life too bad for that to happen, but I didn't realize that until now. Although our correspondence was mostly through instant messages and email, if she could have seen me I would have been on my hands and knees, begging for her forgiveness. I knew that in this moment I may only have this one shot at convincing her that I'm sorry and pray that she does not let what we were just fade to black. A year or more has passed since then (they go by way too quickly to keep track), and we still talk from time to time, but I know that it might never be the same. I let myself get in the way of good judgement, and although I can commend myself for taking immediate action with an honest apology, our relationship still bares the consequence. So in conclusion I wish to leave you with this thought: When it comes to gossip, rumors, or breaking confidence; the mouth is not the enemy. The problem is in the heart.
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