So, Why Did You Get Divorced? (Finally)

 This seems to be the question, people ask or want to ask but feel its rude to ask and maybe it is...I am not sure. I do know it's an impossible question to answer without embarrassment and wondering how they will look at you if you are truthful.

The truth that everyone close to me knew was my ex-husband was unfaithful, not just a once way of unfaithful, but what turned out to be a lifestyle of unfaithfulness. They knew we did years of marital counseling. The thing I couldn't see was the sickness in him that had absolutely nothing to do with infidelity or his depression. It is something I cannot even name because I am not sure there is even a name for it. 

The lying, the gaslighting, it was a way of life. When I approached the subject of the unfaithfulness, I was told I was crazy for imagining the adultery, they're just friends, co-workers, fill in the blanks. 

My ex twice invited his women over for dinner. Both times he did this, it put the pieces of the puzzle together as I realized I had just catered a date for my husband. This happened not with one woman but two women, twice. And just to add a little more complexity to the trauma, the women would pretend to be my friend. One talked about how this crazy woman was accusing her of having an affair with the woman's husband. How could I possible accuse her after hearing about this other crazy woman, but I knew in my heart, that wife was not crazy. There is also a time with a different woman,  a friend called to say that Greg's paramour was having an affair with another man (while having her affair with my ex). Yes, two women turned out to be having affairs with other married men simultaneously as with my ex. Who has affairs with these kind of women? My ex, apparently. 

There were other women who would be so nice to me while carrying on with Greg...at least they didn't invite me to lunch, but there were lots of phone calls in front of me. And of course, they were just friends, how could I think otherwise? 

When the full blown affair would be exposed, the ex-husband always threatens suicide if I leave. Every single time he was caught, he threatened suicide. Once, he even brought me a box of straight edged razor blades so he wouldn't "do anything," How do I explain the fear I had?

 And now after several decades I realize there was no intention ever to commit suicide, he loves himself too much to ever hurt himself. Each threat a manipulation and each time he enjoyed the game he played and won. Winning is very important in his world, he cannot lose. 

How do I explain to someone that he emailed friends pretending to be me? I will never forget in 2008, getting an email from someone saying he was getting emails from me that didn't sound like me and two days later my daughter discovered he was having an affair. Which was crazier? The emails? The affair? The screenshots of all my emails, even to my cousins? Or that I was so busy taking care of our children I didn't notice how deep my ex-husband's psychological problems ran? These are questions I am not sure I want to answer. 

As my ex-husband was threatening suicide, he had the clarity to put all of our money and paychecks into an individual and remove his name from all the credit cards. He seemed to have a very clear eye on the future now that I look back with new insight. 

The one time I left I discovered that it isn't easy to get a job when you haven't worked in ten years. I couldn't get a job as a simple secretary, I was over-qualified with a college degree, I couldn't get a job as a cashier, I wasn't a local and the job needed to go to someone who had lived there for awhile, I couldn't get a job using my degree because I no longer had the skills to perform the job, funny thing about computers, you don't use them for a decade and the most you can manage is an email and finding a website...

The craziest part is I didn't find out how twisted my ex-husband is until the divorce. Covid reared its ugly head a short time after I filed for divorce and added a whole new level of insanity...All this took place while living in the same house.  Two years with the epidemic as he fought the divorce acting like he wanted to be married, asking questions about if Matthew rowed that day or if I used a card kit to make a card, and if I would go ride my bicycle to see if he pumped the tires correctly. But what he was doing was documenting things for court...I had used the rowing machine (he kept a log of it without my knowledge) and he failed to tell his attorney it was part of my physical therapy for my neck and knee. He even took video from behind me showing me rowing (very very slowly rowing). The same with the bicycle, more video as I tested the tires on my little granny bicycle. Therefore proving nothing is physically wrong with me...even though there is medical documentation and multiple surgeries. All this to prove to the court I could support myself making cards. Yep, you read that right, he didn't want to pay alimony even though we had agreed I would stay home, support his career, and raise our children.

On Christmas of 2018, the kids had noticed that again he had not got me a gift. Later the kids were being disrespectful so I decided to go catch my breath in the closet. Greg came and ordered me out of the closet and as the argument went sideways and he started disparaging a mutual acquaintance with the F word, I asked him to stop. And he hit me. The craziest part of this story is he actually asked this man to be a character witness for him in court. I cannot make these things up. 

In court, he testified I hit him and not only did I hit him that day, I hit  every few months in the chest. The monster inside, how did I never see it?  

Which brings me back to how do I tell anyone I willfully married this person? I thought he was better than me and I needed to better so he would be faithful. How do I say I finally realized I have worth and I am worth so much more than this kind of marriage and he is a fool for not appreciating what a great wife he had?

How do I answer people who ask why I am not dating or trying to date but instead joke I am a protestant nun? Do I tell the truth? Do I say I would really like to know what is like to be loved by a truly good man but I don't think I could ever trust someone again? I married someone who appeared to be a good man and he is not even close to being a good man. I don't think anyone wants to hear that. And the people I care most about in the world have judged me for staying married. 

Shame. It has a death grip.  

My First Prank

 I have successfully accomplished my first prank. Our student pastor loves real mail which is adorable because he is so young. He also likes Spiderman and puzzles...I decided to take these three loves and merge them into one after his wife told me about his delight of checking the mailbox every single day and how he waved the birthday card I sent her over his head in excitement over real mail.

Every week for three months I would send a card stamped with one letter spelling out "Happy Birthday" and 3-5 puzzle pieces attached. I used different church campuses for the return address and I printed because my handwriting is very distinctive. 

Over the months, I would hear his theories on who it was and cringe in horror as my printing was compared to a "Middle School Boy's writing" or "Someone using their left hand." (Praying my face wouldn't give away my embarrassment. And nope! It was my right hand and that is my true printing, now you know why I write in cursive). 

While I was in Poland, I incorporated an accomplice, let's call her, "Kati Bond." She mailed the cards while I was gone. I think my proudest moment of the prank is when I left the cards to be mailed disguised as a gift on the desk next to his for her to pickup to mail for me. NOT. A. CLUE did the young man have that the key to the BIG puzzle was right under his nose. 

It also helped he had no idea that all the mail here in our city goes to Birmingham for stamp cancellation before coming back and being delivered here in our little city. He was convinced the person lived in Birmingham and had an accomplice that lives here. 

On his birthday weekend, Kati Bond, dropped off the remaining puzzle pieces on his desk in front of all the students. (I was home recuperating from a minor procedure so the timing was perfect to not get caught). The plan was to reveal on his birthday who it was but one of the associate pastors found out I was behind it from his wife and convinced me to keep it going until the Youth Conference for the Big Reveal...so more letters with letters punched out for him spelling out "Motion Conference," "Who is it?" and "Revelation." The man was using Chat GBT or whatever that is called and getting a list of indecipherable names...awesome. 😎 

The Conference came, I brought the Shutterfly puzzle I had made with his picture and a message that read, "Guilty! Savage Susan." The Associate Pastor snuck it into his room while we were all at the Arena. (Now I have two partners in crime and this could be useful later in life). 

The Perfect Prank? Accomplished (and I thank the students who did not out Kati Bond as the culprit dropping off the puzzle), I will be honest, I was sure one of them would. 

And now, I am now going to go practice my printing as diligently as I practiced my handwriting as the middle school girl who wanted her cursive to be as pretty as her cousins. 

Late Night Thoughts

Another night of elusive sleep. Thoughts...thoughts. How can I get to sleep? What will bring me rest? God, El Hayyay, the God of my life. I want Him to be that so much and yet I fight the distance of disappointment with my earthly father knowing I was his disappointment. I wasn't a boy. I wasn't my brother.

I think about my kids and how much I love them, if they need anything if I can give it to them, I will...but they don't want me since the divorce. They have gone from hating their dad to loving their dad and hating me. How does that happen? But it doesn't matter, I still love them, I would still give them the moon if they would let me. But they won't let me. 

This brings me to God. Yahweh. How much more He must love me than I can possibly love my children. How can I overcome the distance my earthly father created with my Heavenly Father? How he must wait for His children to wait to come home because they want a relationship with Him the way I wait for my children to want a relationship with me. Lessons I have had to learn the hard way, by loving my children too much I became their doormat and scape goat. That is not a healthy relationship, for me or for them...especially for them. So I wait, as God waits. 

I should write this down, these deep thoughts, I'll do it first thing in the morning...but I wait too long. It's been a week since the elusive sleeps, the wisdom of the night has faded. There is an understanding that God loves me, really loves me. If I yearn for a relationship with children who don't want me, how much He must love me, and yet, it's still a fuzzy grasping and trying to claim what He has promised. 

Resting. Abiding. Trusting. Knowing His words are true, He has given me a place of quietness and rest and focusing on the promise of Jeremiah 21:16-17 for both of us. If I love them, how much more does He love us when we disappoint?

Ft Morgan, AL BeachTrip

 My thoughts while walking along the beach. "Life is like nature. There are stormy days. There are calm days. 

There are days like the ocean. You're peaceful but there are areas of sand from the storm like the water, you must gently flow around the mound.

And days after the storms, your breath is taken away by the most beautiful black shell, beauty you would never have seen without the storm bring it to shore."

Memory at lunch at The Sassy Bass: the song, Take it Easy by the Eagles was playing...so young, so long ago, when I dreamed of living life at the beach...and today. I am not living here but I am experiencing it. Life is unexpected, it has not turned out the way I planned it when I was planning my future.

But now, in this last period of my life, it is showing me who I was created to be. 

I am not living here at the beach, but I am experiencing life here, at the beach. 

I have weathered the storms, I've been beaten up against the rocks, I'm sashed up on the shore now. I hope people see me like the black shell, tossed but beautiful. 

Lord, You gave me a love to write. I have put the gift away in the drawer for so long that I don't know how to use the gift anymore. Abba, help me open the gift, help me to use it, let it flow from my heart to my pen. Unlock the words You have put in me. Unleash the joy I find in writing. May my pen flow like water, may the gift heal my heart, restore to me what has been gathering dust and turning to ash.

What's my Testimony?

Someone once told me my testimony reminded him of something CS Lewis said...Lewis described his journey coming to know Christ like going out on a motorcycle ride and coming back a Christian. 

I find my story to be like CS Lewis'. I had a beginning and then a slow drawing nearer to God. 

I was raised in a single parent home by a bipolar mother. My father was an alcoholic father. No one in my family went to church so God's name was a cursing word by the adults around me. I did not know of Jesus or of His love for me. I searched for feeling loved and being seen in all the wrong ways through my performance, other people, and unhealthy relationships. No one told me how God loved me in all of my sin and mess or what Jesus did for me at the cross so I could live with Him forever and know that love here, now. 

As a child, I remember looking at the stars and wondering if God glued them in the sky every night. God was showing Himself to me and so my slow journey began. 

In high school, I was one of those people who judged Christians as losers. I am sure God chuckled at that knowing what was in store for my life.  I must admit my foolishness and their wisdom.

While in College studying the Renaissance and Reformation, I became curious and I began looking for God. At the same time, life got a bit rough around me. My boyfriend of 5 years was killed by a drunk driver and my father was diagnosed with cancer. I was lost but God kept dropping little kisses of His love and kindness around me. I began creeping towards God very slowly and at some point, I cannot say when exactly, God became the essence for my life and living. I continue to learn more about His lovingkindness every day, I see His creativeness and attention to detail everywhere in nature and in the faces of His children. He is beautiful.

Over the years I have had many bumps and bruises with many miscarriages, a divorce, and deaths of friends and family, I was constantly moving and starting over as a military spouse, but God never left my side. He relentlessly pursued me dropping His kisses of kindness around me. His presence sustained me through all the pain and loss.

I found starting my day in prayer, worship, and reading His Word gave me strength when I felt weak. The reassurance of His love for me found in His word has helped me through every had situation life has thrown at me. Each time I sit down and am quiet with God, He speaks exactly the words of encouragement I need. When lift my eyes up to Him, He shows me who He is, and all the panic and anxiety is replaced by the perfect peace He promises to those who honor Him, 

God has kept me surrounded with Christian friends who are His hands and feet of love to me. He gives  me joy and peace which transcends all understanding on the good days and the bad.  Jesus promises this to all who follow Him. 

My Heavenly Father gave me these words of promise during my divorce:

"Then justice will dwell in the wilderness;
    and righteousness will remain in the fruitful field.
17 The work of righteousness will be peace,
    and the effect of righteousness, quietness and confidence forever.
18 My people will live in a peaceful habitation,
    in safe dwellings, and in quiet resting places," (Isaiah 32:16-18)

And God has done this for me. This is my journey. 

Recitals and Lost Things

 Twirly dresses, shoes that make noise, big bow in the half pony tail. Barney marathons...

I went to a recital today. I remembered other recitals, ratings of superior from competitions. 

I hear a baby cry today. I remembered my sweet girl on the floor in the little apartment as I recorded her kicking her feet to the classical music. 

I remember a dance recital when you were 3 and the boy with Downs Syndrome was scared and she took his hand and got him through it. 

I remember her visiting her great-grandmother and tenderly putting lotion on her hand. 

I remember how much she wanted to ice skate. I remember driving her to Kettering when we finally lived some place she could take lessons...the trip to the outdoor rink in Atlanta was a bust and trips after Macon Whoopie games sporadic...although there was a rink in Montgomery but we weren't there very long  and one time she skated while visiting her Grandma in Wichita, this made the long drive to KS worth it. 

I remember rainy days and tea parties and watching Pride and Prejudice. 

I remember "making a run to the border" on Fridays for our Taco Bell lunch. 

I remember Bible Study and Chick Fil A. 

I remembered driving her to Macon, Cedarville, and Salem for the piano lessons. Driving for dance lessons, driving to Awana, driving to Cheerleading...driving...

I remember her learning to drive in VA...on Garrisonville Rd...telling her she was too far to the right. She didn't believe me. She believed me when the passenger mirror hit the other cars' driver mirror. Ooops.

Today, I saw a blonde boy in a vest with his guitar at the recital. I remembered the little boy that just HAD to have a guitar. He lasted about 5 lessons.

I remember the little boy who wanted to play hockey since he was 4 and at 6 he got a try hockey for free. He hated the swim practices I had signed him up for and loved the Learn to Play hockey. 

I remembered the vest as he ice skated his way through competitions. The ice skating came in handy for the hockey. More driving. 

I remember him with his tool box staying occupied during his sister's dance dress rehearsal and the squirming at the recital.

I remember stitches in the head from climbing things, slipping, and being the object of his sister's wrath. I remember broken bones and sleeping in the recliner with the ice machine.

I remember him meowing like a cat when waking up from dental work. 

I remember driving miles and miles for his hockey in rain, snow, moonless nights, but oh, the conversation was priceless. 

I talked to a friend after today's recital about her chemistry homework. I remembered my other blonde child's love of biology and her trying to teach me the periodic table. I remembered the little girl with the power points of her favorite animals. The drives to the ice rink with her talking and explaining science and other topics. 

I remember Blue Bear who had to travel with us everywhere. 

I remember nursing you and you would hear a plane, point to the sky, and say, "See? See?" You couldn't see the plane but you could hear it...hearing equaled seeing.

I remember your Pillsbuy doughboy laugh coming from the backseat. My heart melted.

I remember my spring bulbs never coming to fruition because the little blonde had picked them all and scattered the petals across the lawn or made "soup" with them. 

I remember a little girl who danced so well she was promoted up, not winning me any points with the dance moms who had daughters not promoted up...but she refused to dance any more. Why? She hated recitals.

I remember her swim lessons. She could swim forever. Watching her run was like seeing a gazelle in the wild. She picked up a bow, shot an arrow and was asked to join the archery team. She was a natural athlete but preferred to read a book. It's funny how gifted she was athletically, if she had the desire, she could have gone far, especially with hockey...but did I mention how she preferred a book? I liked she had an inquisitive mind. 

I remember a picture of this science-girl in an ice skating outfit holding her hockey stick carrying her hockey bag...oh, and the picture of her in a dress with her stick and bag. Unique. 

More driving for this child, too. Her hockey games required sttanding next to the ice in the penalty box until 10 at night. I loved it. She had grit...and then...More driving,

I remember Tuesday nights leaving the rink and picking up Chinese to watch NCIS with the girl who would know all the lines and quote them by heart. 

I remember the girl who made sure I had my water before I did all the shuttling to the ice rink...the girl who would text lunch orders from school, who wanted a ride to school even when we lived next to the school, or would text wanting to come home early because she had all her work done. 

I remember her love of soup...from her first soup at Panera in MA as a one year old to the girl who wanted homemade soup so much I bought a cookbook with 300 soup recipes. 

I loved being their mom. 

I remember. They don't.

Lost things. 

Tea Party For One, Please

 A Pride and Prejudice Tea Party, this is the stuff a tea lover and bibliophile get excited about...but when the event is full for a party of 6, what does a P&P girl do? Book a party of one! I will be taking a copy of Pride and Prejudice as my date and delight in the solitude. 

I am spreading my wings, enjoying life, living out of my comfort zone. Elizabeth Bennett would be so proud of me. 

I spread out my passport and told God, "Fill it up with stamps." He answered and I will be getting my first passport stamps in 42 years. My first mission trip to Poland. I thought the mission organizers were making all the arrangements until last Saturday when I discovered they are only making the arrangements from Berlin to Poland. Big Gulp. I am responsible for getting to the rental car area at the Berlin Airport by May 20 at 4 p.m. Big gulp. A bit of panic. Then I realized, "Yes! I can do this!" (I had it in my mind that I would be with a group and I could follow the crowd and learn to navigate international travel so I could do my long desired Viking River Cruise at some point in the future). Things changed, I will be learning to do this one on my own. And then...I remembered, "I can do all things through Christ Jesus who strengthens me." Yep, I got this.

New season of life, new adventures, and tea parties for one...life is good.