Day 349

Everything probably isn’t going well…

…but I’m too overwhelmed to really let myself feel it.  To let it all sink in, because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll just fall to pieces entirely.

I feel like a complete failure.  Like I don’t know what I’m doing most days.  I have no idea if I can date.  I really don’t think I can, especially after today.

There is so much I still have left to work on.  I am selfish, and ungrateful.  How do you find a balance between fair and crossing the line when you live with someone?  I don’t understand how people live together for the rest of their lives.  That’s a long time.  And it feels like such a foreign thought.  How do you not grow to hate each other?

I don’t think I have what it takes to be a mom.  I don’t think I have it in me.  I don’t think I can be anyone’s wife.

I just don’t think I can do it.  I think I’m exactly who Paul is preaching to when he talks of singleness.

I haven’t been able to reach my parents, and they haven’t been able to reach me.  I miss them so much.  And just through text Mom has been saying, “Dad hasn’t been doing well since you left.”

And immediately that makes me want to go back.  I thought to myself, I could sell all my things, move back to California, live in my parents’ living room, and find a night job.  That way Mom could work during the day and I can work at night, and Dad would always have someone there to care for him.  I could watch Steven.  I could take care of Grandma.  I could be there.  I could sacrifice Memphis, and move back.  Nineveh.  That’s essentially what Stockton is.  And I’m Jonah.   I feel a whale approaching…

I’m struggling.

Volunteering is wearing on me.  It didn’t take me long to realize that not many people volunteer for their churches—not enough anyway.  What I used to love, well, I still love it, but I have so much less energy.  I wish more people would volunteer.  The producer-consumer ratio is really off.

What am I doing with my life?  What am I doing with myself?

Today was a sad day.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

You know it’s bad when they ask for prayers.  They don’t ask.  That’s just how it is.  Why am I not there with them, God?

Day 52

Warm milk.  Cinnamon.  A dollop of vanilla extract.  And two Nyquil tablets.

What a nightcap.

As I took each warm sip, I hummed over thought after thought, each pregnant with ripening anxiety.

Check engine light came on.  Funny sound.  Sip.

Trip home to California.  Pleasure and pain.  Sip.

Dogs need to go to the vet.  Sip.

Appointment with a dentist.  Possible cavity.  Sip.

Will be pushed to see orthodontist.  Teeth shifting.  Sip.

My budget versus my bills.  Not so David versus Goliath.  Sip.

Wanting a permanent roommate.  No options.  Sip.

Needing someone to live here while I go back to California.  Sip.

Single.  Single for a season or, more permanently, a reason.  Chug.

Each thought enough to drive me insane on its own, but squished together in my unsurrendering mind, I am at war.  At war with myself.

Where is my peace?

Warm milk.  Cinnamon.  A dollop of vanilla extract.  And two Nyquil tablets.

What a nightcap.

Good night.

Day 20

When he walked in, it was almost like seeing an old friend.  He had the same swagger in his step and wore that same handsome smile on his face—the same grin that had always made me blush.  I had a big smile on my face, too…for about two seconds.

That’s how long it took me to remember the short, but painful span of our defunct relationship.  The secret text messages.  The angry phone calls.  The solo-dolo doctor visits.  The computer misuse.  The misuse of our hearts and bodies.

You are disgusting, Jamie. What a testament of your love for Christ, huh?  The voice in my head mocked me, and a wound in my heart was pierced.  Seeing him again, all I could feel was anger.

Ugh, what is he thinking coming here?

The nerve.  Really?

Look at him, thinking he can just waltz in here like nothing ever happened.

I turned away from him while he caught up with my coworker.

Go away, I growled in my head.  My thoughts gave way to an emotional tantrum.  I haven’t seen you since September.  Go away.  Go away!  GO AWAY!  When he finally left minutes later, smile and all, I didn’t say goodbye.

It was during my lunch that I received a text message from an unknown number.  I read the message, and threw my phone into my passenger seat.

Nooooooooooooo!  I don’t want your new number!  There is NO part of me that wants to relive anything!

Frustrated, I reclined in my seat, watching the leaves falling ahead of me.  My thoughts jumbled and frantic, I pouted.  When I saw him, 10% of me was angry with him—the other 90% was disgusted with myself all over again.  When I see him, I see who I was, who I let myself be when I was with him.  But I am not that person anymore—right?  The disgust I feel when I see him is born from a fear that I haven’t changed.  And I have—right?  Who I was does not have to dictate who I am, right?

I leaned my head against my seat, and my head turned just so that I saw the entrance to our lot.

STOP.  The big red sign met my gaze with purpose.  At that moment, I felt God pacing along with my thoughts.

Stop!  Why are you so full of worry?  You asked Me earlier if this was temptation or opportunity.  Do you not see it as both?  See its value.  Be tested.  It’s the only way to know where your heart stands NOW.  Why do you hang on?  Let go.   I did not mean him for you.  You chose that which was never yours.  Be not mad at him, because it was you who took without permission.  I tell you now, forgiving yourself is the only way by which you can forgive him.  I know your heart, your guilt, your shame.  Let go.  I have better for you.  Trust Me.  Release him.  Forgive yourself, and be a light to him.  Greet him as the son was greeted by his father—not in the way of gladness that he has returned, but in joy that you both have an opportunity to reconcile, forgive the sin, and know love.

God is definitely providing me with opportunities to reconcile.  With what happened today, this makes three out of my six with whom I have spoken just this week.

Today was difficult.  Seeing him was difficult.  But this is what the road to recovery looks like, huh?  As rocky, as rough, and as bumpy as it’s going to be, being on the road is a lot better than sitting steadfast full of anger in a parking lot.  It's the road to freedom.

When you hold resentment toward another, you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free.

Forgive or relive.

Forgiveness is the economy of the heart.  Forgiveness saves the expense of anger, the cost of hatred, the waste of spirits.

Number Three, today was difficult.  But I’m working on forgiving you.  One day I will, and I hope I will be able to look at you the same way God looks at me—with eyes and a heart that know redemption.

Day 14

I think there are more days now that I don’t want to write than I do.  Uuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

Earlier this week on Twitter I prayed for discomfort.  God answered that one fast.  Yup.

Dis-ease.  I don’t like to be disappointed, but it happened today.  I hate disappointing others, but that happened today, too.  Now I’m sitting here, feeling stressed out and angry.  I just want to lash out, but I don’t, but I do, but I don’t.  Uuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

White chocolate mocha.  The day started out great, with me having coffee with Leonard.  Coolest guy ever.  Even saved my life from an umbrella.  He’s been really encouraging during this healing process.  He knows some of my story and where my heart is hurting and has done his best to be a friend to me. It was nice to be able to talk and get to know him better.  Thank you for the coffee, Leonard! :)  Next round is mine.

Under construction.  With disappointment on my mind, I am going to acknowledge three things at which I am terrible.  Remembering anything, returning text messages and talking on the phone.  I hate talking on the phone with a passion.  At times I can handle it when conversations are short, but I think my aunt has traumatized me forever.  When I was in middle school she kept me on the phone for five hours talking about nothing three times a week, maybe more.  How do you talk about nothing for five hours?!  I have no idea.  And I don’t care to find out.  Buuuuut I need to talk on the phone.  I know that.  I have friends I can't just sit down and grab coffee with...  And text messages—I am so bad about looking at my phone, intending to respond, and then my attention gets drawn elsewhere—at work, or shopping, or eating—and I just forget.  Which goes hand in hand with my terrible memory.  I can remember some things perfectly, and other things it’s like you may as well have never told me at all.

Something I love?  Thrift store shopping.  It’s like looking through an eternity of memories when I’m in a thrift store.  All the old things which were, at some point, treasured.  And I’ve found some great treasures in my expeditions.  In fact, I’ve gotten more compliments on clothes I’ve bought from Goodwill than I have from Target.  Annnnd I just discovered that each store has a RELIGIOUS section for books.  Who knew?  I didn’t!  John Piper’s The Dangerous Duty of Delight, Peace for a Woman’s Soul (thank You, God, yes, I will be needing this), Max Lucado’s The Greatest Moments in the Life of Christ, and Daniel Partner’s Hymns of God’s Love were among my purchases today.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.  Still stressed.  Looking forward to tomorrow night.  Maybe I’ll feel better by then.  For now, I’m going to bed.