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Automobile Insight: Overdiagnosis

Automobile Insight: Overdiagnosis

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I shared how my car not starting led me to a revelation of spiritual truth in my last blog post, but I guess I still have a lot to learn. My car still won’t start.

We have seemingly gone through everything. Tested the battery: it is fine. Tested the starter: it is fine. Located and removed every fuse and relay in the car and all are functioning properly. Ran electricity straight to the starter and it cranks up the engine, which seems to be just fine. So why won’t the car start when I turn the key in the ignition?

I am a creative person, but ultimately I have the mind of an engineer. I am a fixer. Just visualize the person in your life that is the most likely to try to fix everything–all the time, overanalyzing everything along the way–and multiply that by like 100 and that is me. I can’t stand when things are broken or just inefficient. And the “whats” in fixing isn’t ever enough for me, I must also understand all the “whys.” As in, I don’t just want my car to start, I want to know why it isn’t starting now.

I may have become slightly delirious given all that has happened this week, most predominantly the poison ivy rash that has developed into splotchy red and insanely itchy patches all over my body and one location of gnarly looking blisters at what I’m assuming is the unfortunate location where I came into direct contact with the poison ivy oil before spreading it around my skin. My only desire at this point is to go to sleep and wake up when it’s all over. In normal circumstances, I would go full-throttle in uncovering the mysteries of my car and disregard everything else until I found my “why.” However, these aren’t normal circumstances, my body is weak and tired with all my resources being diverted to healing my annoying rash. Just put a pin in it. I’ll worry about the car when I have enough energy to drive it.

At least that is what I would have done. This time. Because of the circumstances. But, now that I’m married, everything isn’t just about me.

In my crippled state, my husband decided to carry the fixer torch for me. I would come home from work, fall asleep on the couch as he spent hours tinkering with the car desperately seeking the solution to get my car started again. In retrospect, I should have been grateful and showered him with praise for staying up late night after night chasing every lead when I didn’t have the strength. But, I didn’t do that. No, instead I just got upset and even snapped at him a few times for not waiting for me, “I thought we were going to work on the car together. I thought you said we were a team,” and for buying parts, “Why would you spend all that money on parts if you don’t know if we actually need them or not?!”

The frustration continued to build as I watched my husband get so fixated on fixing the car, he didn’t seem to be thinking straight. I really became concerned about my car as I had flashbacks to that one time my brother took apart a lawnmower and couldn’t remember how to put it back together. You can’t just take everything apart haphazardly. Won’t help my car start if it’s in a pile of pieces. No disassemble! Anyone else remember Henry’s Awful Mistake? The extermination of a single ant in the kitchen is not worth the destruction of your entire house.

I started to worry that my husband was so far into the weeds, he’d lost sight of what was important–that we get the car to run. Even if it cost money and requires us to take it to an auto mechanic. Even if the mechanic gives us a running car and can’t explain why it wasn’t running before or how he fixed it. Having a running car is what is important. So, I marched out to the garage late one night and encouraged him to come inside and get some sleep because as much as I appreciate what he’s trying to do, he’s really just running a risk of causing more damage when he’s too tired to function properly.

My mind started to turn through the whys of my darling husband’s actions. He is adamant about getting at least 8 hours of sleep every night. He falls asleep on the couch if we’re watching TV past 9 PM. He’s usually the calm one, no worries, no problems. And here he is staying up until 1 AM with tunnel vision on finding the problem with my car. Why couldn’t he just take a break to regroup? Let it go. Chill out a bit.

I am going to blame the poison ivy for my delay in processing the information, but the irony finally hit me that this must me how my husband feels about me. All the time.

It is possible to overdiagnose a problem. The medical community actually has a growing problem with overdiagnosis as thousands undergo “preventative” treatments they may not even have and others are being diagnosed with diseases that have no treatment and thus leave the patient with a lower quality of life drown in fear and anxiety over something they can’t change or control.

I personally find it important to understand the whats and whys; but I’m starting to learn how important it is to keep yourself from being consumed by asking questions and seeking solutions. Not everything that is broken needs to be fixed.

My husband got caught up trying to fix my car. Meanwhile, I’ve been caught up for years trying to fix his life. Magnifying and rehashing everything from his past. Trying to find a solution to repair the relationship between him and his ex, so our children can witness their parents having a healthy working relationship, like I know something he doesn’t about a relationship he was in for 20 years. I might be trying a little too hard. Just maybe.

I’m astounded once again by how much this man loves me.

Love is the answer. In case you were still wondering. The second lesson from my car that won’t start is a demonstration of unconditional love. Love is the why behind my husband’s seemingly bizarre behavior, and the driving force behind the persistence to pursue at all cost. My husband loves me and knows how much my car means to me, and just wants me to be happy. I’m glad he is also mature enough to already know this and appreciate the overdiagnostic fixing I try to implement out of my love for him.

Love truly is the greatest gift. Don’t squander it.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body [a]to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.

Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.

And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:1-13 NKJV

Automobile Insight: Unmet Expectations

Automobile Insight: Unmet Expectations

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Monday morning I was going through my normal routine, I got in my car to go to work and turned the key…

I’m a person of high expectations, and my expectations for my car is that it runs–every time I turn that key. I spent the time and money laying the groundwork to meet that expectation. I bought a brand new car, a reliable brand and model. I am adamant about taking care of it. I have done everything I can to maintain the expectation I have. It is the most expensive thing I’ve ever purchased (and by myself). I’ve had it for over 10 years. I’ve kept up with the maintenance, and have never had an unexpected repairs. I’ve done everything imaginable to keep that car in a condition where I can always count on it to start and take me where I need to go. Every time.

Monday apparently missed that memo. I turned the key and… nothing. Nothing happened. Well, all the dash lights lit up like a Christmas tree, but there was no sound–not even an inkling that the engine was even trying to start.

I am just going to be honest here, I don’t handle unmet expectations well. I am a detail-oriented and very strategic person who plans and prepares so things will go as expected. No surprises. That is what I like. That is what I expect. So, the car not starting thing didn’t go over well. Especially on a day my husband had gone out of town with a friend to go kayaking and I was breaking out in a poison ivy rash I just hadn’t noticed yet… needless to say, by the end of the day I felt I was living out a storybook. Mel and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

The car situation pales in comparison to the other unmet expectations in my life. But serves as a perfect metaphor. Your car won’t start and everyone around you has an answer or judgement. You become frustrated and defensive– “No, I didn’t leave a light on and drain the battery. No, I didn’t forget to fill the gas tank. Seriously, stop looking at me like that. I did everything right. This should not have happened.”

Our expectations say it shouldn’t happen. But it did.

Same thing happened with my career. I went to school and worked my butt off. I was an honor student who studied non-stop, graduated in the top 20 students of my high school class, was offered multiple college scholarships, went to college and continued my dedication to education over socialization, duel majored in growing and competitive industries (Communication and Technology), graduated with honors and a passion to use everything I learned to make an impact in the next place I landed. Well, where I expected to land: a career in the field I spent my whole life preparing for. But when I turned the key, that car didn’t start either. It’s been over a decade since I graduated and I still don’t have a job in “my field.”

My expectations were that if I followed the plan and worked hard I would get the job I wanted. I followed the plan. It just didn’t work the way I thought it would. So far none of the redirections along the way have fixed it either. It just is. I have to live everyday knowing my life just isn’t what I expected and no plan is impervious to unforeseen circumstances. Most of our expectations are unwritten and unspoken. I never really thought about my expectation of my car starting every time I turned the key, but it came barreling to the forefront of my mind the moment it wasn’t met.

My car not starting is sad, wasting my potential in a job where I feel underutilized is depressing, but not being able to diagnose and fix the brokeness in my family is life shattering.

When I married my husband I knew things wouldn’t be easy forever bonding myself to a family shattered by divorce. However, I still had expectations that things would be better than they are. I guess I thought I was immune to surprises, having come from a broken home myself. That I had the answer key, and a map to all the landmines so we could cross the desert without igniting any fatal explosions. But, sometimes I turn that key and the car doesn’t start.

For the three years we have been married, I have daily walked past the bedroom we set up for our stepchildren–a room that they have never used. It breaks my heart to see it empty, I can only imagine how much more it hurts my husband. I long for something I have never had, but he longs for something he lost–the children he created and raised. He recalls fabulous memories of camping and fishing with his kids and remembers a better time; while I have only dreams of my imagination of what I wish for things to be like. We both have our own unspoken expectations. If we allow those expectations to go unchecked and sideswipe us when they go unmet, it can destroy us, our marriage, and our family.

Take a lesson from me and my car: be cognizant of your expectations of things and people. Don’t allow yourself to drift into despair when things don’t go as you expect. We have terrible seats for analyzing our entire lives, our perspective is incredibly distorted being right in the middle of it. I don’t know why my car wouldn’t start Monday, or why we still can’t figure out what is wrong with it, but someone else does. Maybe I just needed to learn this lesson. Maybe I needed more patience. Maybe if my car had started Monday morning, I would have died in a fiery car crash on my way to work. Afterall, while my job seems like a huge mistake that took me down the wrong/unexpected path–if I hadn’t struggled after college I wouldn’t have moved, if I hadn’t moved I wouldn’t have gotten the job I have now, if I hadn’t gotten the job I have now I wouldn’t have met and married my husband, and if I hadn’t married my husband I wouldn’t have started this blog. So who’s to say things aren’t meeting expectations? Just not mine.

So, if you put your key in the ignition and your expectations aren’t met the moment you turn it to the “start” position, try not to be upset. Re-evaluate your expectations. And praise God for knowing what you need every moment of every day. He is not worried about my car never starting again, or my job never bringing me fulfillment, or my family being broken forever, no, God has a much better perspective of the big picture. He is aware of all the work my husband and I have put into building a foundational marriage to break the cycle of divorce for our children, and all the preparations we have made in our home and our hearts for the day our children come home. Maybe I’ve seen the film Field of Dreams one too many times, but I truly believe our work will pay off and my family will be reunited. God sees all of your hard work, too. He is using our struggles to teach us, because our God isn’t a God of meeting expectations, He really prefers to exceed them.

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.”  James 1:2-8 NKJV

Daily Forgiveness

Daily Forgiveness

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They say “forgive and forget,” but you can’t really ever forget. You never forget. You never forget the pain when people hurt you. It stays with you like a scar, a tattoo upon your heart.

But you have to forgive.

You need to forget. You long to forget so you can move past the pain and into a future without it, free from the pain. Unfortunately, this is one of those times in life when you have to be realistic about what is and is not possible. You can not forget your past. You cannot remove pain entirely from your life. You cannot eliminate the perpetrators of your pain from this earth–or even just from your life.

However, you can forgive. You can choose to not hold a grudge, to not seek revenge. And you can choose to love unconditionally. The problem with those choices is that it’s not a “one and done’ kind of thing where you forgive and release your feelings, choosing to love your enemy going forward, and you get all warm and fuzzy and never look back, and never get upset about it again. At least I have never experience that–if you have found a way to do it, I need to come and learn your ways!

Without the magic of “forgetting,” our only hope is endurance and persistence. That choice, the choice to forgive and overlook (not forget or condone) wrongdoings–to choose to view people from God’s perspective–that choice is a daily choice. Every. Single. Day.

You have to forgive.

Every.

Single.

Day.

Because the people who hurt you will never just magically disappear. Your life will never be completely free from pain. In order to free yourself from the bondage of forgiveness, headed down a trail of bitterness towards a lifetime of anger and resentment–you’ll have to commit to forgive those who hurt you. Every Single Day.

So, take the first step. Choose forgiveness today. But keep things in perspective because you probably won’t feel much different tomorrow. Forgiveness isn’t a single action, it’s a lifestyle. Forgiveness requires you to choose love. Every. Single. Day.

How do you choose to love someone you don’t feel like loving? You pray. Jesus instructed us specifically to pray for those who hurt us. Do you know why? I’m sure they probably need prayer since God will bring the vengeance for their evil actions against us. But I don’t think that is why Jesus instructed us to pray. I believe Jesus was giving us the key to forgiveness, showing us how He was able to forgive while he was a man. So if you don’t feel like praying for the person who hurt you, be even more encouraged to do so. Because those prayers will soften your heart and allow you to truly forgive.

The Most Depressing Time of the Year

The Most Depressing Time of the Year

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I love Christmas. Love. With a passion. You will definetly see me skipping around this time of year, wrapping everything I get near and singing “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” while watching Hallmark movies nonstop,  but it doesn’t always feel that wonderful.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years all pile up to form a trifecta of togetherness that can overwhelm anyone who is separated from a loved one and lead them down a dark drag of depression and desperation. I have countless stories of of tears and drama that make up the ghosts of my Christmas’ past. One of the hardest things is dealing with a crash of reality after taking on an extra expectation of miracles… because it’s Christmas–the time for miracles, right?

My husband and I are still waiting on our Christmas miracle (or anytime miracle for that matter). 2017 marks the sixth Christmas we have spent together. Our memories together are joyous and wonderful things to celebrate–and I have the Hallmark ornaments to prove it! However, this time of year (and every moment we celebrate throughout the year) is a double-edged sword of joy and heart break. 2017 also marks the sixth Christmas we have spent alienated from our children.

Every year I hold onto the hope that the magic of Christmas will bring peace and reconciliation, and so far every year I have been disappointed. The more I hope, the harder I hurt. But I cannot stop believing. I will not stop believing. God intends to heal our family. My job is to wait and trust. And I will continue to do as I have every year, and trim the tree, wrap the gifts, and stuff the stockings in the anticipation of my family being whole at Christmas. One day it will be. And that will be the most wonderful time of our lives.

Christmas_2017

Your Choice

Your Choice

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God has been dealing with me a lot lately about praying for those who persecute me. One thing is for sure: I don’t want to. Honestly, I’d rather stew in anger and hope they rot in hell for making my life a living hell. That is not the Christian way, and definitely not what Jesus would do. It seems fair in my rational earthly mind. But life is not about being fair, it’s about doing what is right. God loves all of his children, and in order to become like God, we have to learn to do the same. The quickest way to melt the cold hard feelings of resentment and bitterness is to love the object of our pain by gaining new perspective. Anyone hurting you, is hurting themselves and in desperate need of love. Instead of heaping more anger and pain, we have to learn to forgive and pray that they would find their own peace and security so they can love their self, so they can love others.

An open letter to everyone who has hurt me:

Everyone gets to make their own choices in life. I apologize on behalf of the people in your past who taught you otherwise. The people who attempted to control you and make your choices for you. They were wrong in stealing what was yours. They were wrong in teaching you to repeat that behavior in an attempt to validate yourself by controlling others. What you have lived through and the pain you have endured is not right and it is not fair. However, your past pain does not give you the right to continue the cycle by inflicting the same pain onto others.

Speaking life and hope or speaking death and destruction into the lives of others is your choice. Forgiveness or bitterness is your choice. Praying for those who persecute or attempting to manipulated and control others is your choice. Allowing grace or pursuing revenge is your choice.

You cannot use what others have done to you as an excuse for our own actions. From this day forward, know that every choice you make is yours alone. You will be held accountable for your choices. You may choose to try and control other people’s choices, but even if you are successful at first, it will never really work because they have the same right to their choices as you. And they will be held accountable for their choices, just as you are for yours.

Use your freedom of choice to set yourself free.

Choose Life.

Choose Love.

Choose Freedom.

Choose Forgiveness.

Choose to Pray.

I have made my choice. No matter what you do, what you say, what you choose. I choose to love you. I choose to forgive you. And I choose to pray for you.

Love Always,

In HIM,

Mel

What am I Worth?

What am I Worth?

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Five years ago I moved to a new city with a desire to restart my life. Looking back, I had no idea how different my life would become. It’s not really that I have changed into a new person, but more so that I have changed the way I think. The way I think about life, people, God, but most importantly: the way I think about myself.

I am a very involved individual. I’m tentative and cautious when making decisions, because I know that once I a make a decision I become fully invested, moving headstrong and feeling everything. Books, music, and movies are a very real part of my life because I feel everything so deeply. I grew up watching “Reading Rainbow” and fully believe that I can go anywhere or do anything that is in a book. Because I can. I have. I been transported to new worlds, because I feel so deeply. It is a real world with real impact on my real life.

If you had asked me several years ago about my worth, my shoulders would have dropped my eyes would have turned away and I would have searched desperately for something to say all the while wishing I could just disappear. My worth? Nothing. I am worth-less.

I spent a lot of time trying to outwardly convince others that I was special, but it didn’t help me to believe it about myself. There are many things I experienced over the span of five years that made me reevaluate my worth. I don’t have time to talk about them all, so I am going to focus on one. I want to preface this blog with the disclaimer that another person does not and can not define your worth. However, the people in our lives can help us to see our true worth. So, don’t confuse those two things, it is an important differentiation.

Growing up in a divorced home, I adamantly maintained the thought that I would never get married. Ever. Why would I? I have nothing to offer but brokenness, failure, and pain. And sheer pessimism, because marriage never works. I lashed out at a lot of good men who attempted to tell me otherwise, accusing them of trying to sweet talk their way into my pants.

I have since discovered that the truth is that marriage (and relationships in general) does (do) work, but only when the parties involved know their own worth. That means not defining your worth by the relationship itself or the other person.

In February of 2012 I attended a Winter Jam concert. I went to see my favorite band, Skillet. Since it is a $10 at the door event with no assigned seating, I camped out in front of the door for several hours so I could get in early and sit up front. I was alone, so my planned worked like a charm–one empty seat at the end of the second row. There was only one surprise that night, an opening band by the name of For KING & Country. They were only given a short time on stage, but they stole it. Three songs crammed together, with a simple banner hanging behind them; you would think it would be difficult in this scenario to find the impact, but their lyrics and the passion behind their music pierced through my soul. In particular, the song entitled “Busted Heart.” I knew I needed to hear it again, so during one of the breaks I made my way through the crowded concourses in the civic center looking for their merchandise table. At the table I found the duo selling their not-yet-released album for $5, while signing autographs and taking photos with fans. It reminded me of the first time I saw Skillet live, at a youth hall where they walked around talking with everyone after the show. Humble beginnings with the potential for amazing things.

If you don’t know anything about For KING & Country you should know this, brothers Luke and Joel have a mantra: Priceless. They spend time at their shows defining a woman’s worth as “priceless” and calling men to a return to chivalry and a challenge to all to honor and respect one another. It reminds me of another moment from my past, as a teenager attending a Rebecca St. James concert where she talked about purity and challenged all in attendance to a vow of celibacy until marriage (Coincidentally enough, Rebecca is Luke and Joel’s sister). The messages are similar, but this one was more about who I am and not what I do. The priceless label applies with no strings attached. Respecting one another is an unconditional act, it is never “earned” or “deserved,” everyone should respect everyone else. If you’re a human, it’s what you do.

When I first heard the song, “Busted Heart” I was at a turning point in my life. I felt broken and worthless, but wanted so much more. I had spent so much of my life in church and I knew I could–I could find peace, happiness, joy–I just didn’t believe that I deserved it. I didn’t believe I was worth it. I cycled over and over again from being hopeful about changing my life and then sulking in depression of my past and never being able to outrun it. Like the lyrics from the song, I was “in need of a change” and “desperate for grace.”

Later that year, I met the man who would become my husband. My husband has an amazing heart and truly loves unconditionally. He was the first person I ever felt loved me without strings. He didn’t place unnecessary burdens or expectations on me. He didn’t love me for his own selfish gain. His respect of me was never altered by what I did or what I thought or what I believed. He just simply loved me. As I was.

I have spent so much of my life feeling as though people would only love me if… If I do this. If I say that. If I believe this. If I… [fill in the blank]. My husband showed me that not only could I be loved, but that I was loved. Just for being me.

My husband didn’t change my worth. But he did show it to me. Like a mirror, the way he treated me reflected back and reminded me of who I really was. He allowed me to see myself, instead of forcing something different on me. And I was accepting of what he was saying because I finally felt relief from the pressure of trying to prove myself.

Every human life is priceless. Period. No one or no thing can redefine your worth. You are priceless. You do not have to earn love or respect. You do not have to prove your worth. You just are. You are priceless.

I admire For KING & Country’s message and invite you to follow them. Listen to their music. Read their book. And on Friday, October 14, 2016 go see their new film “Priceless” and take a friend. It might just change your life.

Dealing with Disappointment as a Step Parent

Dealing with Disappointment as a Step Parent

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One of the most important things we learn in life is how to handle disappointment. There are two extremes we can fall into–setting high expectations and always feeling disappointed, or learning to set no expectations at all. But there is a healthy medium in the middle we can all strive to meet. As a stepparent, appropriate expectations is an important goal to strive for.

There are many expectations that stepparents have. The most common of these expectations is that being a stepparent should feel like being a birth-parent. In my experience, the stepparents who have the hardest time lowering this expectation are those who also have their own biological children. Their expectations stem from a constant comparison with their biological children. These parents constantly find themselves disappointed when their stepchildren do not respond the same way their biological children do.

My first advice is this: you can have a wonderful, healthy, loving relationship with your stepchild(ren), but that relationship will NEVER be the same as the one with your biological child(ren). Let go of that expectation! It will only bring you heartache and drive your stepchild further from you. Don’t put yourself down, just like the differences between men and women, step and bio parents have different roles. That is OK. It doesn’t make you less important or less loved–it just makes your relationship DIFFERENT.

When a stepparent dynamic is in play–no matter the situation through divorce or death–the nature of the relationship with your spouse is different than that of a marriage without this dynamic. A major component being disappointment. A stepparent often finds themselves having to play the role of encourager to their spouse, being optimistic and setting high expectations to help their spouse avoid depression and disappointment of their own. We find ourselves building hope and trying to make everything positive, in a way that can come crashing down around us if we place too high of expectations on ourselves.

I say this all, not from having some great insight beyond yours that I must share, but because I sit here early in the morning, unable to sleep because of my own bout with disappointment.

Every story is different, but to simplify mine out of respect to my family and an ongoing court battle. My husband has been alienated from his children and denied access to them for several years, he fights a constant uphill battle and I am his biggest (and sometimes only) cheerleader. I know personally how difficult it is to be a child in that situation–afraid to love “the other parent.” So, I fight not only for my husband, but for the children because I know firsthand how desperately they need their father in their lives. That passion sometimes comes with great disappointment. Especially as a stepparent who has never even met their stepchildren.

Most of the time I think I can keep a lot of my expectations in the realistic realm because of my own experiences with my stepparents. But sometimes you just want something too much.

For me it was a hope that my husband would reconnect with his children for his birthday. After a long struggle with the family court system and years of delays, the judge ordered restoration therapy. Finally, my husband would be able to sit down with his kids and a court-appointed counselor and start rebuilding broken relationships and hopefully shed light on any emotional and psychological needs of the children that could be addressed with therapy–which in my personal opinion should be mandatory for every child who has to deal with divorce (and the penalty for any parent who keeps their child from therapy should be a prison sentence for neglect and abuse). Soapbox aside, there was finally light at the end of the tunnel and I was busy to the task of building up my husband as he has been beaten down so much from the journey that he didn’t even believe any of it would happen. We walked away from the courthouse that day and I was like, “Do you realize what this means? You are going to see your children again!” Of course, in my mind I was tacking on “and maybe even before your birthday!”

I saw a perfect opportunity for building a family memory, when I placed a bid at a silent charity auction for 4 tickets to a major league baseball game. I figured, by the time this game rolls around, my husband could have restored visitation… this would be so much fun…. I wonder if the kids have ever been to a major league baseball game before… so many thoughts swirled in my head. So, I put in a bid and left it up to fate. The tickets were worth so much more than I could afford to pay, so I really didn’t expect to win them… but I did. And it felt like destiny. I tucked them away, hoping to surprise my husband as soon as the kids came back into our lives.

But that day didn’t come. Lawyers sparing, counselors too busy to make appointments for weeks… everything in the universe seems to be against my husband reconnecting with his kids. Months go by and we are in the same place we were in before. It’s so frustrating, I just want to scream! And now the day has come and gone for the ballgame I had hoped to be our first family outing together. And I fight to hold back the tears from rolling down on the club-level seat tickets, as I imagine what could have been.

I want to keep encouraging my husband to go on, but at the same time feel so broken and helpless. It seems like there will never be an end to the pain. And my heart aches for the children, whose pain is intensified by their age.

I have to take my own advice and take my expectations down a notch. That would have been too quick of a turnaround to be possible, anyway. Going from years of separation, to happy family outing in a matter of months. I just want it so bad. For my husband, for the children, for my family as a whole. But we have to keep things in perspective and take life one step at a time.

Coincidentally enough, I learned a lot of these lessons from my own stepmother–even if I didn’t realize it at the time. I’m sure she had a lot of her own disappointment moments. But the one I remember in particular had to do with her cooking… You see, my stepmother would often try to cook dinner for us when my siblings and I visited. I’m not sure of all of her motivation behind it, but I do know that we were the opposite of grateful. I remember her cooking things like Chicken Parmesan, which I didn’t like and didn’t want to eat. But at the same time, I was a depressed teenager who blamed my stepmother for my parents failed marriage, so I also had an attitude and deep desire to not like anything about her or anything she did. So refusing to eat anything she made was just par for the course, really.  In retrospect, the night she chopped up fresh veggies and put together a huge build-your-own taco bar, knowing that it was my favorite meal, was probably her “olive branch” in a manner of speaking. I can only imagine how disappointed and hurt she must have felt that I constantly hated her when she had never done anything to me. I don’t remember everything that had happened that day, but I remember that I wasn’t feeling all that well. I don’t blame my stepmother for being upset and disappointed when she had made this huge dinner for me and I informed her that I wasn’t going to eat it. She probably thought I was just being a spoiled little brat–which really wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. I wasn’t feeling all that great, but not bad enough to continue to protest after her “I made this just for you and you will eat it,” moment. So, I reluctantly obliged and ate a bunch of tacos. Which I really regretted when I awoke a few hours after going to bed only to heave-ho the whole meal all over the bathroom.

While it wasn’t the most glorious of experiences, it’s one that marks a turning point in my relationship with my stepmother. Even if I hadn’t eaten that meal, the fact that she specifically made something I loved just for me was huge. And even though I’d have argued that the only reason she did it was because my dad was laid up with a broken leg and wouldn’t have been much help… it was even bigger that she got up to take care of me when I was sick.

So, take it from me. Little actions go a long way. So, don’t get caught up in disappointment when something doesn’t go as planned. Especially with children. Things take time. Usually more time than you think. Be patient and know that if you continue to do what is right you will be rewarded.

Next time you want to get upset that your stepchild didn’t give you a Mother’s Day card, or refused to eat the dinner you made, or wear an outfit you bought, or whatever the situation–don’t. Set high expectations for your relationship to flourish (I have a great relationship with my stepmother now that I am grown, that is always improving) but don’t put a time limit on it. These things take time. Don’t let the delay disappoint you.

The Roots of Divorce are Strong and Far-reaching

The Roots of Divorce are Strong and Far-reaching

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I’ve spent the majority of my life reflecting on divorce. Always the little kid asking, “Why?” Divorce is like a giant tree that has grown in the middle of the garden of my life, like a weed with big twisted roots choking out everything else in the garden. The first 20 years, I was caught up in it emotionally, fueling the tree like Miracle Grow with my bitterness, anger and resentment. Somewhere during the last decade, I started going through a renaissance period. I started cutting through the emotions with the blade of the sword of Truth and looking at things a little differently. Still asking “Why?” but this time looking for answers that held truth instead of those jaded by my own brokenness. First I realized Miracle Grow is poison, so let’s get rid of that. This tree is not one good for fruit or shade or anything else, it is dark and brings nothing but darkness; so not only is it not productive in my garden it is slowing destroying everything else. So, I decided to chop it down. Hasn’t been easy. When you realize how much the roots have intertwined with everything else, the task almost seems impossible to complete.

One of those roots is selfishness.

A marriage is a single unit. Two people choose to come together to become one. Continuing on the path of one-ness requires sacrifice because you have to abandon all sense of selfishness. Nothing is mine or yours, it is ours. Having children just adds more “we” to the “us.”

Divorce is like a villain everyone underestimates. I’ve talked to many people who claim, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that.” “Our divorce is different.” “We get along so much better now.” Some divorces are less tumultuous, some people are luckier (if you want to call it that) than others–but you cannot underestimate this enemy. There is so much going on behind the scenes.

The hard truth is this: divorce makes everyone involved selfish. Whaaaaaaaat?! Yes, you. You’re not magically immune. Don’t deny it, it will only make things worse–and teach your children to be even more so. Think about it logically for a moment. Divorce fractures a family unit. What was one now is in several pieces. Even if some of the pieces try to align together, the underlying truth is that every man now fends for himself. There is no us, there is only me.

Somehow our society has come to the conclusion that we should not rock the boat and try to salvage things–you know, for the good of the kids. I imagine their thought process is that a broken family breaks apart like a puzzle (it seems logical, people were separated before they come together to form a family) and if we just remove one piece of the puzzle, it will be OK. The puzzle is still almost whole. You can still see the image. We can glue all the other pieces together, to the table, so we don’t loose any more. That one piece won’t be that big of a deal. But that is not how it works. That thinking will never work.

When hearts break, they don’t break even. Hearts–and families–shatter. Imagine a glass shattered on the ground, spilt milk everywhere. The glass is the family and the milk was their future. After this moment, nothing will ever be the same. All of the family members made up one glass together. When the glass broke the family didn’t just break apart into a clean piece for each person. Every person themselves is shattered and all the pieces strewn about. What do you do? You try to put yourself back together.

It’s not that anything is wrong about that. It’s human nature. And a necessary evil. Think about being on a distressed airplane where the oxygen masks have fallen from the ceiling–what do you do? You put on your mask. You have to. They tell you to. You put on your mask first. You can get all indignant and wax eloquent saying that you’re a selfless parent who would definitely be concerned with putting a mask on your child first. But you may not live to help your child, if you don’t help yourself first.

I’m not saying that you shouldn’t start by putting yourself back together. On the contrary, I am. But you have to realize what you are doing. Don’t lie to yourself, or others. Sometimes you have to be selfish for a moment to become selfless for a lifetime.

Think of Jesus in the garden at Gethsemane. Sweating blood. Irate with his brothers for falling asleep and having little regard for what is going on. How pivotal of a moment in history is that? Jesus needed that moment to say “I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me do this.” He needed a little me time to get perspective on the us. Then he made a choice, to make the sacrifice for the good of the world–a broken, fractured group of people. Altruism. He didn’t whine “Woe is me, look what I did for you, look how selfless I am that I would die for you! Blah, blah, blah, me, me, me.”

The irony about the glass scenario is how people act like divorce is the end of the world when it comes to family life. But it is not. Divorce doesn’t destroy families (well, it does if we let it; but it doesn’t naturally) it just restructures them. Same way that new additions, death, adulthood, marriage, or other life changes would. That’s probably where we get the term “family dynamics,” because families are dynamic. Families don’t stay the same. Ever. They are always changing. They involve multiple people who are constantly evolving and changing the way they interact with one another.

So, why when there is a divorce do we try to take all the glass shards for ourselves and force everything to an old memory to stay the same forever? I’m still trying to figure out that why. Actually, no. I think I know. I think it is because all logic and reason goes out the window and people act only on emotion. And the emotional response to hurt is to pull back and avoid being hurt again. So the most aggressively emotional person in the group grabs all the pieces and tries to force them into their desired memory, while driving out any memory of the one person they are removing and placing all the blame on. Selfishness. I don’t think that person necessarily means to hurt anyone. And they are convinced they are a victim and an vigilant, saving everyone else from this hurt. But hurt happens. The hurt has been done. Don’t push it deeper. Help it heal.

The cool thing about glass is that it melts at high heat. It just so happens that divorce (and other life-altering events) is an intense heat situation, providing a perfect opportunity to make something beautiful in the midst of an ugly situation.

You just thought that a puzzle was a better scenario because you didn’t truly think about the entire picture.  Just a puzzle missing a piece, much better than tiny shards broken glass that can’t be fixed. But the puzzle will remain broken forever. You can’t just get by without a piece. You can’t force a different piece in it’s spot. Or draw a new piece yourself and get the same finished whole product as the original.

The shards of glass cannot be glued back together to form the same shape they were in before. But they aren’t meant to. Once a family is divided it has to start again, re-creating new families. Just like you did when you got married in the first place. You don’t think you left broken glass when you left your parents’ glass?! Well, you did. Just go ask your mom. Her life changed. Forever. Families are supposed to change. They were designed that way. That’s what makes them dynamic.

So, why are we forcing children of divorce to cry over spilt milk? Demanding they use superglue to desperately try to glue together something that cannot be fixed? Tying their well-being and self worth to our own and trying to force them to feel our feelings and reject the other parent?

It’s time to stop being selfish. Take a moment to be selfish to reflect on yourself, get help from outside to focus on the big picture: families change, and you cannot remove anyone from your family–marriage is forever (in more way than one). IF you make a child with someone you are tied to them for life. You cannot change the laws of life. No amount of running or lying or repressing will eliminate a member of your family. So stop trying. Look at what is and make the most of it. Choose to be selfless for your children. Recognize that you are hurting your children more by your actions than the divorce itself. And accept the cold hard truth that the best way to navigate your family through divorce is together. In case you missed it, together means with your ex. Because no one’s ex falls of the earth after a divorce to never be heard from again. They are there. For the rest of your life. Learn to live with it. Not just “until the kids get older,” or “after the payments stop,” or “when the ex gets remarried,” but for-ev-er. Your children will grow up, get married and have children of their own. You will have weddings, funerals, births, graduations, birthday parties, and countless other milestone moments in your family life that you cannot eliminate someone from. Suck it up, Buttercup. For your family. For your kids. Set fire to the broken glass and make what you want of the pieces–together. You’re family never gets smaller, it only changes form. Teach your children how to handle the changes in life, stop the cycle of bitterness, brokenness, and victimization, prepare them for the inevitable next change. Dynamic. Families are dynamic.

Disney doesn’t ruin children’s minds with fantasy images of marriage and family. We do. We’re the ones crying “Woe is me… ” “All this bad stuff? I didn’t deserve…” “Make sure you pick the right person…” “Leave them before they leave you,” and all kinds of other bad advice. Whether verbally or through our actions. Stop telling children that you can make “perfect” families and keep them that way. It’s not normal. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not going to happen. If you keep feeding them these lies before they ever realize the truth they will be lost and broken thinking something is wrong with them, when the only problem they had was having a parent fail to teach them the beauty in broken glass and the ability to create under fire.

Do you want your children to spend their entire lives preoccupied with mediating their parents’ failed relationship? “Well, if I invite dad, mom is going to be unbearable the entire time..” “I’d call my mother, but I don’t want to spend an hour listening to her berate my father…” “I think my kids would be better off spending minimal amount of time with their grandparents. Too much drama.” “If I have to choose between my parents… I choose neither. I can take care of myself.”

No matter how awesome you think you are. You cannot be both parents to your child. They will always have a hole in their heart. After-all, fifty percent of them is the other parent. If you teach them to hate the other parent. You really just teach them to hate themselves.

The thing about Loneliness is…

The thing about Loneliness is…

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On Saturday mornings my husband and I attend a prayer service at our church where 45 minutes is dedicated to praying over the prayer requests of the congregation. Those little 2×3 cards can really put things into perspective–death, job loss, addiction, severed relationships, the list goes on and on. You may be struggling in your own life; but you are not alone. Reading those cards reminds you of that–you are not alone.

Many times I pick up cards that I can personally relate to. It might be a coincidence, but I don’t believe much in coincidence. It is a divine intervention that keeps me grounded and reminds me that I am not alone. And sometimes, it reminds me of where I’ve been and what I’ve already overcome.

Today was one of those days. One of the cards I had picked up just had one word sprawled across it, the letters so large they spanned several lines.

Loneliness

It felt like a kick to the gut. I wanted to find that person and reach out to them, tell them that they are not alone. How could you feel alone, you come to a church with hundreds of members? Many of whom are facing similar struggles. Connect with someone and you won’t have to weather the storm alone.

My conversation with God went something like…

“This church is so large. How could anyone feel alone here? There are so many people to share with, to cry with, to connect with–to weather the storm with. No one has to struggle alone. How can you let this person feel so alone? So, outside the lines they didn’t put their name or any details of what they are going through. There are so many people who want to help. Connect them with someone who is sympathetic to their struggles. Help them to build stronger relationships with their church, friends, and family members. They don’t need to feel lonely anymore. They are not alone. There are so many people…”

“Are you done yet?”

“Wait. What?”

“Don’t you remember what it felt like?”

Ooft. Boy do I ever.

I spent the majority of my life being depressed. Most of which I blamed on my parents for getting divorced and making my childhood a never ending roller-coaster of emotions. As I grew older, the net expanded to include classmates, “so called” friends, extended family, church members–anyone who upset me or excluded me from something. I didn’t feel like I could trust anyone. ANYONE. All these people were throwing rocks at me, and I was picking them up and building a massive wall around my heart. I hated people. People hurt you. I just wanted them all to leave me alone.

Oh.

When I was lost in the depths of loneliness, people did try to help me. But I didn’t let them. Funny thing about those rocks… when your friends see that you are building something and they want to help they go foraging for materials.  They see you need more rocks, so they throw you some. Your friends start throwing rocks to you. Not at you to you.

The thing about loneliness is that it can’t simply be solved by more social interaction with people. Loneliness is an internal struggle. A struggle that has to be won by the heart and mind of the one who created it. You have to learn to change your view of the people around you, by first learning to change your view of yourself.

And start building a castle instead of a wall. Castles are cooler and you can invite your friends inside, so no one else feels excluded.

P.S. There are always going to be those people who do throw rocks at you. Best not to let yourself be bothered by it. Thank them for the building material. Chances are one day they are going to regret that they gave away everything they had in anger, leaving them with nothing; while you’ve built an awesome castle.