What in the World is God up to?

Month: April, 2013


Five days ago, I wrote that I was done with anything to say in this blog.  That’s not completely true.

I don’t believe anything in my life will change; that at 56, my life is effectively over.  I don’t think my girls will ever be as open, or want to spend as much time with me as they did before.  God certainly has not given me any word or sense of direction in the last 11 months.  I can’t pray anymore.

My therapist says that some things will not change.  My husband’s mistake will always be with us because it was so public.

I don’t know how my grandchildren will perceive me in five, ten or fifteen years.  The thought that they will not want to be around me is almost too painful to contemplate.

In the last week, it’s as though something in me has died.  I feel myself becoming very self-protective again; not trusting anyone because I’m tired of trust being broken.

I know it’s ridiculous because there are 6 billion people on this planet and I live in high style compared to 95% of those 6 billion.  But pain is pain and money doesn’t change that.

I told my therapist to call me Esau, as in “Jacob have I loved and Esau have I hated.”   Yes, I know that the Old Testament is given to hyperbole.  But after all the prayers, tears and begging God for something–a whisper, a word, a nod, a wink–I just feel like Esau.  Jacob was a scheming, cheating conniver, but he was chosen over Esau, the first born.

My theology is in pieces all around me, much the way my life was 10.5 months ago.  Friends have quoted and written to me every encouraging piece of scripture the Bible contains.  My therapist has stated that he believes it is wrong to pull individual verses out and quote them as promises to us in today’s society.  Because my heart is so pitted and torn, I don’t know what to believe.

And I think I have finally reached the point where I just can’t fight anymore.

So it feels like my life is over.  I don’t know how much I’ll be allowed to be around my grandchildren.  I hope that it’s enough for me to impress on their hearts how much I love them. I think that’s my greatest value at this point.

Will I ever completely forgive the people that inflicted so much damage to my heart and soul?  I don’t know.  They robbed me of a chance of a well-functioning life.  That’s hard to forgive.


I’m Done…

I’ve come to end of anything to say here.  That may change, or may not.

In the past months, I have only become more confused about what I believe and what I am to other people.  So many conflicting messages, and God still seems far away.  It is exhausting.

Thank you for reading my posts.


And Then it Hits Me…

I had a good five days.  New grandbaby, no sad tears.  Therapist said my husband and I were doing well.

But yesterday, I had a meltdown.  Not like the old ones, but a meltdown all the same.  Sobbing until it feels as though my heart might just rip in two.  I have wondered and wondered what is going on with me.  And  then something was said in church this morning that triggered a thought.

I don’t like myself.  Even after  eight months of therapy with two different guys.  I just don’t like myself.  I hate decisions I’ve made that screwed things up royally.  I hate not being able to just believe that God loves me.  I hate the insecurities I still have.

And all I can think is that some of this is never going to change.  I don’t like that.  It leads me to dark places sometimes, and when I say dark, I mean soul-torturing dark.

Guess I know what I will be discussing in therapy on Thursday.


What Am I Feeling?

It’s been a big week.  New granddaughter has made her appearance.

Yesterday, our therapist told me and my husband that we didn’t need to come every week for therapy.  He has cancelled my Monday appointments and I will go to every other Thursday.

I’m not sure how I feel about that, although the last three Mondays have not been great in therapy.  I’ve left his office feeling worse than when I went in.  But I’m pretty sure there are still some issues in me that haven’t surfaced and I don’t know what I’ll do when that happens.

For instance, I haven’t cried for four days and on the way home from work today, I started to cry.  I don’t know who I am, I have no idea about what will happen in the next few months, no idea if God will make beauty from ashes of all this mess, or whether life will ever feel “normal” (although I can’t tell you what normal means).

That’s incredibly unsettling.  I have never felt so old.  A year ago, I was 55, but I didn’t “feel” old.  Now I feel every one of my years.

I got to see all my grandkids yesterday, which was wonderful.  A little fuzzy head on my shoulder again is heaven, and hugs and kisses from the two big sisters is soothing.  My husband loves me.

I wish the nagging feelings of insecurity and fear would go away.  There’s a good chance they won’t.  That’s difficult to live with.


Babies…Incredible Miracles


This is the newest member of our family.  It’s a girl, born late in the evening on April 16.  She has two sisters and I wonder about the personality she will develop.  Her sisters are so delightful, very different in personalities.

Science can explain the reproductive process in great detail, but the reality is that it is just a pure old miracle every time.

Grandkids are incredible therapy.  I love being around them. Little girls running to hug my neck are one of the best things in my life.  And a soft, fuzzy head on my shoulder is a feeling like no other.

Thanks God, for our precious new grandbaby.

I Need My Sleep

I really need my sleep, so, of course,  I’ve been wide awake since 2:40 am.  I was getting drowsy again, so I got back into bed, which was the cue for my brain to rev up.

There’s a lot to think about–a new granddaughter who, hopefully, will make her debut today, my therapist’s desire to talk about his theology at a time when mine is so fragile that I’ve left his office three Mondays now feeling worse than when I went in, friends who were in Boston yesterday to watch their daughter run the marathon.

But I need sleep now because my daughter is going in a 8 am to be induced.  I love meeting new members of the family.  Knowing that another little one was on the way was an incredible bright spot in the past ten months.

Today is her day.  Please, Father, give her health, and her mom a safe delivery.  Draw her close to You from the beginning.


Gooood Stuff…

The FB page for Escape to Reality.  Grace, grace, grace

This is a great blog! Be sure you read the “comments.”!.aspx

These two websites have been wonderful help for me during some dark days.


PS  My daughter will be induced tomorrow, Tuesday, April 16, so hopefully, I will meet my third granddaughter tomorrow!

Shoulda Known

I’ve had a good weekend, personally and with my husband.  It’s been more lighthearted than we’ve had in a long time—so I shoulda known.

Since June 2012, anytime I can string two or three “good” days together, it seems that I inevitably pay for it.  The evil one catches me off-guard and whispers fear, doubt and despair into my brain.I’m getting a little better at not letting him knock me off my perch (although I probably shouldn’t have “said” that out loud.)  But for someone with my disorder, I have to be more vigilant.

I talked to my pastor on Friday about my problem of believing in God’s unconditional love.  Maybe after five months of therapy the lid of the jar had been loosened enough for what my pastor said to really help me.  Whatever; his words helped me.  Maybe it’s because I think he really cares about me, and I’m not convinced my therapist really cares as much as I’m just another client.  That’s probably not fair because the therapist has helped me a lot, but like I wrote in an earlier post, he’s not my friend and we won’t be “friends” when therapy is over.  If he remembers who I am in two years, I’ll be surprised.

But I digress.  This afternoon, the evil one has been after me.  The doubts are here, the fear of my husband never finding another job, the depression over how I don’t know who I am and what in the world will happen to us is back.

I hate, hate, hate, this.  I want to be settled in my soul.

BTW, the third granddaughter still has not made her appearance.  Her poor mama has swollen feet and a belly that I just don’t think can stretch any more.  C’mon, little one, quit being coy.  Although I can’t blame her.  Wouldn’t it be heaven to float in a warm space where food is always there and the cold, cruel reality is shielded from you?

Wow…I am really a mess.  Pray for me, please.


God is not mad, bad or dangerous to know

I am 56 years old; been a Christian for 43.  Been haunted and felt worthless for about 48 years.  Have thought most of that time that God was just waiting for a chance to drop-kick me.

I’ve been the wife of a man I love very much for nearly 35 years.  Yeah, he screwed up big-time last summer, but we’ve both made a ton of mistakes in our marriage.  I’ve had the most beautiful daughters for 33 and 30 years, had the most precious granddaughters for the past five and three years, and another is on the way.  My girls are married to great husbands.

I got to live in Europe for eight years.  I never thought I’d visit Europe, much less live there and travel all over.   I’ve had some great travels here in the U.S.  Had a great dog for 12.5 years.

Have an incredible pastor now in the most laid-back church you’ve ever seen, and have unbelievably wonderful friends that love us, warts and all.

God has never been waiting to drop-kick me.  Just because my siblings and then my in-laws treated me like c**p doesn’t mean that God felt that way about me.

This is the problem with early abuse.  It gets so deeply imprinted on your brain that it colors the rest of your life.  I was putting our medical expenses into a spreadsheet today.  What we have spent on therapy in less than a year is absolutely appalling, and our therapist cut his rate in half for us because of our financial situation.  It bothers me that there was no way we could have shared our problems or hurts with anyone at church.  There is a conspiracy of denial with too many Christians.  It is “I’ll pretend you’re okay if you’ll pretend that I’m okay.”

Folks, it is just wrong that Christians are so judgmental or uptight or holier-than-thou, or just plain scared to admit that they struggle with sin or pain or anger.  We are supposed to bear each others’ burdens and share each others’ joy.  So many churches shoot their wounded. That has got to stop.  We wonder why people mock Christianity—it’s mostly because of the Christians they know.

I’ve learned a hard lesson about sin, but it’s made me no give a hoot in hell who knows my problems.  My pain overcame my fear because I just wanted to get rid of the pain.  No one should have to fight fear to unload their pain, not in the Christian community.

Okay, this post has been all over the place, but I type what’s on my heart.


Tomorrow is the Anniversary…

Tomorrow, April 14, will be the anniversary of a journey that I began after thinking about it for more than ten years.  It might also end up being the birthday of my third grandchild, if she decides to stop being stubborn and put in an appearance!

The journey I started three years ago was developing characters and writing a book.  It was supposed to be a one-off.  I knew how it would end and knew the ending would irritate some people, but I didn’t care.  It was going to end it the way I wanted because life is rarely clean and simple and has a fairytale ending. (Irony is a b***h, huh?)

So I began to write.  It was slow-going at first, but after about two months, the characters began to tell me the story while I just typed it as fast as possible.  There were a couple of mornings when my goal was to finish a certain portion of the book and I knew where it was going, but by the end of the day, the characters had taken the tale in a totally different direction.  I sound crazy, don’t I?  Well, I am a borderline, although I didn’t know that three years ago.  And I apologize to other borderlines.  We are not crazy.

Anyhoo, I finished the 300 page book in five months and began the editing process.  However, the characters wouldn’t let me sleep at night.  They were not finished telling their story and they did not appreciate the ending I had written. So in the middle of editing book one, I began the sequel.  Now that WAS crazy.

My husband and I took book one through 14 edits.  I started reading it early this week and it needs another edit.  I haven’t sold many copies, although I have received a couple of small royalty checks.  Doesn’t matter; I love those characters.  And I realized today that tomorrow is our anniversary of three years.

It’s weird; having your life shattered is like having a baby, in this respect.  You can’t remember what life was like before the event.  But thinking about my summer of writing in 2010 has brought a glimmer of memory back.  I thought I was happy then; actually, I was happy then.  I am just praying that there is more happiness ahead of us, although I can’t imagine feeling as carefree as I did back then.

But a new grandbaby is on the way and if she’s anything like her sisters, my delight in her will often bring me to tears.