Ready or Not

On my quest to be happier and healthier, I have taken to not eating during my lunch break at work, but walking. I shove my earbuds into my ears, play some relaxing music with a good message, and walk a quick loop through housing to clear my head and get me prepared to face the afternoon. My heart rate gets up a bit, I get some time away from my job that can be oh so stressful, I get to have my soul uplifted with the songs I listen to, sometimes the sun is shining on my face, and I have time alone. But I also have time with God. 

I don't think it's a secret that I am a Christian. I believe in God. I have since I was a little girl. I was baptized as a baby. I went to a parochial school from Kindergarten through Eighth Grade. I have attended the church I am currently a member at since I was little. I have been religious for a long time. Over the last few years, my faith has ebbed and flowed between strongly convicted to barely hanging on by a thread. I will admit that I have struggled on my journey with my faith and with God through all of this. This has been especially true since September 30th, 2010. Five years ago this very night...

There are many details of that night that are forever burned into my heart and my soul. And going back to the PTSD that I mentioned yesterday, the memories of that night flood into my mind like it was yesterday. Several times tonight I have stopped myself from flowing into a panic attack. I have dropped to my knees and asked God for strength to push past a certain time on the clock. I have journaled and breathed and sang praises and talked to my Heavenly Father and asked Him for strength. I am strong in the Lord!

I mentioned yesterday that I don't do emotion well. So, my daily walk today was flooded with emotion sitting just on the surface. I finally slowed my walking, closed my eyes and asked "Father, how am I going to get through the coming month?" You see, I dread flipping the calendar. As soon as school starts, I begin to panic about October. I have never dealt with October well since 2010. One year I had a giant seizure. One year I ran away. One year I was drunk in a church.  By the way, I want to right now apologize to anyone who was impacted by any of those events. I just don't know how to do emotion well. And this is all BIG emotion. 

This year? I walk. And I talk to my God. And I asked Him "how am I ever going to survive this month?" Because seizures and running and drunkeness are not the answers. They didn't fix anything. They maybe helped in the moment. Were a protective mechanism for getting past the day. But I still am here today wondering how to deal with October. Feeling the panic. Feeling my chest get tight and my breathing speed up. Feeling my cheeks get flushed and the tears welling in my eyes. Remembering the words that were spoken and the pain in my heart as Brian admitted to me the awful things he had done. I'm not going into details here. Many of you know. Many of you maybe don't. But I feel my focus isn't supposed to be on the tragic story. It isn't about sharing gory details of what happened. It isn't dwelling on the past and the horrific things that transpired in my living room on September 30th, 2010. 

When I was walking and asked God how I was going to survive October? He had my answer...blog! Tell your story. Share with your audience your thoughts and feelings. Your trials and tribulations. Be a beacon of hope for those that are struggling. Be a hand that reaches out and saves someone from drowning. Take your experiences and lend your story to others so that they will not suffer. 

My journey the past five years has been wild. The girls and I have been on a roller coaster of emotion. We have gone from the lowest of the lows to the highest of the highs and back and forth again and again. And in the last week, I have hit the highest point ever of those highs! I have reached a new level of faith and freedom and it feels so good! It is so good, that I believe that it is my mission from God to share what the last five years have been. So that others may know that they are not alone. And that their story isn't done!

I thought many times that my story was done. That this was going to be how my story would end. When you're a little girl planning out your future, none of the stuff from the last five years was in that story. There just aren't stories with room for chapters filled with deceit and lies, assault and broken-ness, suicide and struggle. My story shouldn't have included torment and anguish and demons. But it did! My life certainly wasn't the romantic comedy I had always envisioned. It was never supposed to be the horror story that has been laid out over the last five years. There was no place in my story for being a widowed mom. No chapters filled with attacks from Satan and my own personal hell on earth. But it happened. 

So, I'm here in my living room, five years to the day from that night, running through scenes that continue to bounce around in my head. If I look across my living room I can see Brian standing there as if it was yesterday. And before, had I been presented with this opportunity to have him stand before me, I would have been furious. I would have wanted to give him a piece of my mind and say all of the things I never got to say. To ask the whys and what happeneds. To curse him for ruining so many lives in a series of events. 

But tonight, God has a different plan for me. Peace!  Forgiveness!  Joy! He heals my wounds and dries my tears. He casts out the demons and cradles me and the girls in His loving arms. And you know what else? He gives me the grace and love that I need to continue to write my story. God and I work together, not to rewrite the past. Before I looked at my healing process as rewriting the past. But that cannot happen. Those chapters, filled with the horror and sorrow and anguish and fight? I can now see that those are my blessings. The last five years was desperately needed to determine my place in this world and the path that I am supposed to be on. I needed to go through everything that I went through to get me to this moment right here, right now. The romantic comedy that I had in mind? The horror story that I thought I got stuck with? Neither of those is what God had or has in mind for me. He has walked me through the fires, and has brought me out the other side so that I can write my story. So I can share my story and help others to learn to write their stories. I know that God has a purpose in all of this mess. He sees me in the bottom of my mess, not knowing what to do with emotion and trapped and tarnished and panicky. And He pulls me out of all that, washes me clean, and gives me the tools to write my story. He gives me the tools to share with others so they don't have to go for five years of suffering before they are released and are free. With the help of God, I am writing my story! And how exciting it is to know that the best chapters haven't even been written yet!

So I will be blogging more often, or trying to, and telling my story a piece at a time. Maybe there will be a piece that you recognize. Maybe there will be a chapter you have read before in your own life. Maybe you will see a similar genre unfolding in your own story. My hope? My prayer? That something you read will help you out from under your own oppression. That a piece of what I write will save you from the depths of whatever it is you're going through. That maybe, you also will realize that you have a purpose and that your path is leading you right where you need to be!

Ready or not! Life comes at you with a myriad of challenges and blessings. Use them! The challenges AND the blessings, for you are writing the greatest story ever told! YOUR story! I don't mean to spoil the ending, but I know that my story will end in victory and I hope yours will also!

Let's Get Together

Last Saturday I had the opportunity to take part in the celebration of the life of Tom Deem. If you have read my blog before, I wrote a post about him in July as I was honored to write a tribute for his funeral service. He passed away in July after a brief battle with mesothelioma, but continues to live on in our hearts. As I mentioned before, Tom's passion was motorcycles. He was the president of the local Antique Motorcycle Club and they pulled together a memorial ride in honor of Tom last weekend. It was the coolest thing ever! Watching tough guys in leather getting teary and honoring one of their fallen comrades. Coming together to support Sherri and the girls. Taking a moment out of their lives to ride and love and come together as a community for Tom. I didn't expect to be so emotional, but I was! Watching the tears, being part of the pre-ride prayer and the blessing of the bikes, listening to the rumble of the bikes as they started off on their ride, listening to the stories of Tom while we stood around the campfire at the BBQ after the run, hearing my own girls tell me again how much they miss him, but can still hear his laugh and see his smile. The biker community loved and respected Tom. And from what I can tell they are careful to watch over and take care of Sherri and the girls also. This community of people, coming together, to celebrate a wonderful man and to share love. What a blessing!

I have thought a lot about community lately. It maybe started with Tom's ride. Thinking about the people that were a part of that group. Thinking about the bonds that were formed

 within that group. How they help and rely on each other. How they take time for each other. How they love and support and care for each other. 

I have struggled a bit over the past few months. My first instinct when I am struggling? It isn't to reach out for help. It's to pull away. To push everyone away and isolate myself. I just don't know how to do emotion very well so to save face in front of people I push away the very people that I so desperately need. In the midst of one of these moments, one friend told me that God intended for us to be in community. To not be alone and suffer without assistance. That word: community again. 

I had a teacher friend in my office today. We talked about her kids and the struggles that she is having with behaviors in her class. We brainstormed and talked and tried to come up with a solution. And as I walked away from that conversation I thought of the whole "it takes a villiage" idea. The fact that there is a community needed to raise and teach these kiddos and if even one link is missing from that community, we end up with kids who are lost and confused and naughty and not ready to learn. They act up and act out and we are left with frustrated kids and frustrated parents and frustrated teachers. They need all of the adults in their lives to come together to help guide them through, or push and pull them through if they are not a willing participant in the process. Community. 

Tonight, I went to my first weigh in after re-joining WeightWatchers meetings. I have been frustrated with how things are going with my weight loss (or lack of weight loss is more like it) so I joined meetings. And it was magical! I lost 10.6 pounds in my first week back! So proud of myself! When they asked what the secret to my successful week was? My answer was community! I needed the love and support of people in a meeting who knew my struggle and were willing to guide me through this process (or more likely push and pull me through as a sometimes unwilling participant.) Community!

So I stand on the verge of October. My heart races with fear and anxiety. My soul wounds surrounding this month run deep. I love the fall and all it has to offer, but I despise October, for that was the month when our lives came to a screeching halt. I am diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and October is a trigger for all of the awfulness that that disorder entails. Just thinking about turning the calendar makes my stomach upset and my heart race. How am I ever going to survive? How am I ever going to get through? Community. I belong to a wonderful community. Several actually. My community at work. My family and friends community. My community within my church.  My WeightWatchers community.  My community that I am a part of on Facebook and through people that read my blogs.  And even that rough and tough biker community. I know there are lots of people that love and care for me and the girls. That will give us the space we need when we need it, but will be right there to catch us when we fall, hold our hand when we are scared, hold us when we cry, love us when the day is rough, and just be there, silently supporting us and holding us up in loving prayer to our Heavenly Father. 

God truly intended for us to be in community with others. And I rejoice and thank Him dearly for all of the wonderful people He has placed in mine!

Be thankful for your communities...and be active in them also! You never know who you might need to bolster up. And you never know who you might need as a part of your community. It could even be a rough and tough biker. 

I love you, Tom!  I'm so honored to be in his family's community! And it's so good to have a guardian angel in mine!