A Grief Remembered

I was just reading some old writings of mine and decided it was time to post this one.  At the time, it just felt too vulnerable to put it on a blog.  Now I have the grace of hindsight and know what I could have not known then.

This was the last of my grieving for the end of my marriage.  Something just shifted after that.  It happened suddenly, like how the winds change.  No circumstances changed.  I was just done.

And by July of 2011 I was madly in love with a wonderful man.

He was a friend who became my best friend. I noticed him because of his character.  Then fell "in like" with him because we had so much in common, we could talk for hours and he made me laugh.  Then I realized he was... "the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night" (When Harry Met Sally movie reference here).  That's when I knew he became my best friend.

Then he pursued me, swept me off my feet.   And I couldn't help but fall in love with him.

We eloped on October 12 of that same year..."because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." (Second quote from When Harry Met Sally)

It's amazing how life can change in an instant.

We've been married now over a year and I'm continuously amazed at how much joy I experience on a daily basis. 

The Bible says that "I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow."    Jeremiah 31:13

Wow.   

I hope this encourages someone, somewhere.   At the end of something; there really is always a beginning of something else.
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When will the grieving end?                                                                       January 18, 2011

I am a lovely, talented, intelligent, professional mother of two.  And I'm still, after 4 years, grieving the end of my 16 year marriage.

 It's only been a year and a half since the divorce but I thought I'd be fine by now.  Seriously. I have great friends, a counselor I can call if needed, I have read the books, and I know how to grieve.

 But I'm so tired of it.

 I want to enjoy this time of my life.  My kids are doing great, I have a beautiful townhome, a job that I love...

But I can't seem to have more than a week or two of peace and joy at one time.

 My head says this is all normal.  My head knows that I gave myself wholeheartedly to my marriage, to my husband.  And that I love deeply and therefore it may take time.  Blablabla

 My heart hurts.  Not for him.  No, that's been gone a long time.  My heart just feels sick of waiting, sick of hoping, and sick of feeling like I'm on my own.

 Yes, I know, I'm not really alone.  I know (again, with my head) that there is, in fact,  a God and He loves me, even likes me.  But I feel nothing.  Mostly just bored.  I can't read like I used to, I have way too much time on my hands, or not enough and want everyone to go away.  I can spend a great time with a friend or two and have fun and even laugh...a lot.  But the minute I'm alone it's there again.  Crushing silence, the void.  Like the world is just empty and here I am. 

 

Alone.

 

What I would have given for just a moment of feeling lonely when the kids were little and I was home fulltime for all those years.  Naptime and bedtime was exquisite.  I would put on soft music, candles and just relax and soak in a bubble bath until I was wrinkled beyond recognition...

 

I loved being alone.

And even now, I can have dinner alone, fly on an airplane alone, go to the mall alone.  And it doesn't bother me at all.

 But  still, there comes the dark nights, creeping up on me when I least expect it.  And then I know.

It's back.  The pain. The numbness.  The complete boredom. And no matter what I do, it won't just go away.  I mean, I can't make it go away. 

 But it will.  It will go away.  I wish saying that it will go away would feel like hope.  But it doesn't.

It will just be gone one day.  It's happened several times.  And I feel like myself again.  Clearheaded.  Optimistic.  Hopeful. Brave.

 

But not today. 

 

Today I'm scared. And little. And the debt is bothering me and I feel fat, and every ounce of the 20 pounds I gained, from the lattes and chocolate I have used to manage the stress, feels uncomfortable and foreign.

 And I know that everyone in the house is happier than me.

 

And that's just downright frightening because I live with a teenaged, drama-queen daughter with wicked PMS.

Musings Of A Twelve Year-Old Prodigy

The Point of Life

By Natalie Ruh

While I wasn’t cracking jokes with my friends in school, or working my butt off to get straight A’s, a thought that I didn’t even acknowledge occurred to me. Why do the things that matter to me matter at all? This led to another thought. Why do we need to do the things people say we need to do? I’ve always wondered these thoughts, but haven’t realized it. And recognition is the reason I am writing this today.

Have you ever felt stuck with no way to get out? Sometimes I feel this way. Trapped. Stuck. Hindered. As if my life is planned out and there is nothing I can do to change it. As if my life is this routine that I have to do and redo for eternity.

Today, I was pouting about how my weekend was going to be horrible and how school is so pointless. Then, at some point, my train of thought led to one destination and I finally realized where I was. And it was this thought that made me question everything I have done in my life time.

My question: What is the point of life?

Well first, what does ‘life’ mean? The dictionary says that life is ‘the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally’. I’m not 100% sure, but I think that means life is the opposite of death. Well, duh!

But again, what is the point of life?

Some might say it is to protect others, but we all die eventually.

Some might say it is to love one another, and while that might be part of our existence, it is not hitting the bulls-eye.

Some might say it is to make memories, but happenings always fade and we soon forget them.

Some might say it is to have a pleasurable time, and while the thought is rather appealing, there is nothing behind it, because pleasure is just pleasure. There is (in the scheme of things) no outcome. Because when you cannot think of anything else to pleasure yourself with, you have done nothing for yourself to show for it that is un-erasable.

I thought of what we are required to do with the majority of our lives and saw a bland timeline that achieves absolutely nothing. From the time we’re born, we learn to interact with others (only to be limited to be around people later in life). We go to school to learn about the world and we learn what to do with our future. Then we work so we can apply what we learned in school. Now, no law forces us to get a job, but there is something that draws us to work: Money.

This brings us an important question. Why do we need money? Because without money, we cannot receive items that are sometimes necessary to live. Simple, right? But why does money matter? Answer: because we make it matter. That’s all that there is to it. But that is for another time.

Back on topic: If you lay out everything I have just said and take a look, it doesn’t sound like what life should be like.

Summary: We are born, we go to school, we get jobs, we earn money, and then we die.

Fun huh?

Someone once asked me if I thought Jesus died on the cross so we could get a job. Once he asked me this, it was clear what most of life was about.

Now, after saying all of that, I think life is about getting the earth ready for God’s kingdom. But at the same time, it doesn’t feel like a complete answer (if you know what I mean). And now, looking from a religious view, the question is totally different. Why did God make us? For His own pleasure? So He could feel responsible for something? So He could love something and have it love Him back? To give Him memories and joy? Did he make us just because he could (I honestly don’t think that, but who knows?)?

Honestly, I haven’t a clue. But I am sure that as soon as I get to heaven, I will ask. But until then, I should do what the Word says: to get people ready.

And because I’ve always wanted to write this, I’m just going to say it.

The End

Something to say


       I'm guessing that in order to be a serious blogger, you've got to have something to say.  But all too often, I find that when I have something to say, no words come flowing from my heart, to my mind, to my fingertips,  and onto my beloved Motherboard.  It takes a while.  Maybe because I'm so verbal.  How does one who is used to using 10,000 words a day turn some of those words into writing.  Hmmmm...
     Anyway, the thing I wanted to talk about was what I said in my second sentence.   ..."words come flowing from my heart, to my mind", ect...  And that fact, that I started with the words "flowing from my heart" seems to be the whole point of my blogging. 
     I was reading today from some book...hmmm I think I had at least four or five open today... oh, no, I was at Borders!  ...make that at least 10-12 books.  Anyway, I read something profound, something about how our thoughts don't really originate from our minds.  That the idea of thoughts coming from our brain was a western culture idea and that we've separated out heads (thoughts) and our hearts (emotions).  But it's just not wisdom to separate such things.  Just like in medicine.  We've separated the physical from the mental from the emotional from the spiritual and we are finding out (duh) that it's all connected.  Like the idea of physical touch helping, even causing, healing to take place has been newly discovered!  Wow, what a breakthrough. (Is there an emoticon for sarcasm?)
     So, as I decided to start this blog, this was on my mind...or in my heart.  That my deepest desire is to encounter God, to know what is in His heart.  For me and for others.  And I just cannot separate what God thinks from what He feels.  Seriously, for years I have been listening intently to God and what He impresses upon me is so deep and so intimate.  And I can't tell if it's thoughts or emotions because He carries all of us in His heart, in "the cleft of the rock", so to speak.  And every word is so deeply felt by Him.
     And so I believed this man, this author, this author of the book I was reading today and can't for the life of me remember which one.  I believed him that our hearts and our minds were ment to be so interconnected that you couldn't even begin to tell what was the source of it all. 
     Like a love letter.  Or Lindor truffles.