Wednesday, October 27, 2010

hot mess

Right now I'm a hot mess. I alternate between screaming, crying, denial... but not every minute of the day, only the minutes when I think about everything. And those minutes mostly happen when I am alone. The worse part of this hot mess is the rest of the time, when I have my mask on. Normally people describe me as either always happy or cheerful, I have even been accused of being perky. I'm that person that lets stuff roll off her back. People come to me when they want help finding the silver lining in something. I don't mind, I have always enjoyed my mask. But all the sudden it feels like its suffocating me. I'm not sure how to take off my mask, but I also don't know how to wear it correctly anymore either. It feels like when I'm smiling and getting through my day people are looking at me funny. Hmm is my smile crooked? Did I forget to let the smile reach my eyes? Oops better  fix that... make the eyes crinkle... ah that's better it looks like a real smile.

The only relief is when I pull away from myself and focus clearly on Jesus. That's not always easy. In fact this past week its been a fight. I get a glimpse of Him and try to hold on. Even though I'm using all my strength I still somehow slip away from Him. Its scary.

 I went to a class at church last night for relational brokenness.  Uuugh, part of me wants to stay home and stuff my face with cheettos, and still part of me likes to go. In some ways its nice to go there, where they didn't know me before. They don't expect anything. I can relax none of them have seen the mask.  Part of me dreads going, I dont always know how to act without my mask on. Its an intense class. It makes you look at stuff, and I don't look if it can be avoided. Looking sucks, it hurts. Plus this dang class looks at everything, all the way back. Oh yay fun lets sit in a circle and feel like crap together. Where do I sign up?

We had a speaker. Hearing him speak about laying stuff at the cross was motivating, seeing the spirit work throughout the room also very cool, to say the least. Frustrating that it seemed to move around me and not in me that night. Also frustrating to know that I WANT to lay stuff at the cross, but I cant seem too. I have before so I know its possible. But at the moment it feels like I'm flinging all my issues as hard as I can, but they are super glued to my hands, so nothing happens. So instead I just sit. Hands full of crap and watch other people start to break free. Its annoying. I don't like crap. 

The thing is a year ago I found out my husband had been talking to another woman. He insisted they were friends and nothing more, just someone to vent to. Well I considered it emotional adultery and my heart hurt. There was a ton of pain. I worked and worked for the better half of a year. I figured I wasn't emotionally "there" enough for him. I kicked trying to be super wife self into high gear. I dropped everything off at the cross and I felt awesome. My God pulled me through and I totally forgave my husband.

It was probably the hardest thing I ever did, and now looking back it wasn't much. That was a speed bump to the mountain I was gonna be climbing this year. In truth I don't feel like I'm climbing most days, more like sitting back watching the more experienced hikers. All that work I did, was all for a lie. They didn't just talk, she was more than that. He let me struggle with forgiveness, let me think he was trying, but in the end he was just working on perfecting his lying skills. And  man he got good. What happens when you lay things at the cross, to find out the stuff you put there were all lies or partial truths at best?

While listening to the speaker I felt panic rising up. All I could think about was two months ago, when I found everything out. I felt panic then, intense panic. I had hit my knees, (slammed may be a better description) and prayed and begged with everything I had in me. I prayed that this wasn't really happening, that it was a huge mistake. I begged that I wouldn't have to walk this path again. I begged if it was true, could I please just die right then? Felt like my prayers were bouncing off the ceiling back at me. That was the beginning of a month of utter numbness. I'm not sure if it was God having mercy on me and letting the shock protect me for awhile, or if it was just me in full detached mode, but whatever, I miss the numb. Numb sounds way better than the mess I have become.

Then  Mr. speaker warned if we had wanted to get out of the class, we should have done it at least a few weeks ago. (What? How did this guy know I wanted to book it right out the front door??)  He said we have all started to pull off scabs to wounds, (um ew) and if left the way they are now (apparently gaping and nasty) they would get infected and make everything worse. So it would be best to press through the rest of the classes and get these wounds cleaned up, and healed through God. Or at the very least on the road to healing. I'm not a patient person, staying anywhere for roughly another 5 months doesn't sound appealing to me. But the infection threat got to me, I dont want to know what worse looks like. So crap, I guess I'm sticking it out. 

Saturday, October 23, 2010

got punked

The thing about holding on to Jesus is you have to be actively holding. I just found out, or you could say fell flat on my face. Let me explain.

I already learned that I need to hold His hand. But I guess I thought after you grab once your golden. So I woke up yesterday and went about my business.  Hmmmm maybe sit, read some scripture, pray, perhaps talk to your new BFF? Nah. I now see that maybe suiting up for a battle first would have made more sense. I"m in a battle, but act as if I'm not. I ended up "that guy" in a huge fight in cute flip flops and a nice hand bag, instead of a shield and armor. My flip flops did not stand a chance, I totally got punked.

My thoughts wouldn't stop, they were getting worse and worse every hour. If you have been in a similar situation maybe you know what I'm talking about. The thoughts were getting morbid and obsessive. What did the girls talk about? What color hair did they have? Why were they so interesting that he wanted to spend time with them? Did they know about me? Did they know about my children? Were they prettier, smarter, taller, shorter, nicer, meaner, older, younger? Was the sex better? Did he wish he was holding them when he was spending time with us? Oh yeah they were flying around in my head. Getting louder and louder.

With hindsight its so obvious what was happening.... but in the moment it wasn't so clear.  I had been ACTIVELY holding on to His hand the few days before. But when I woke up I didn't talk with Him. I IGNORED Jesus. I still had His hand, yes, but my grip was weak. The thing about the enemy is, he pays attention. He saw the weak grip, he knew I could be distracted. And once distracted, I could be pulled away. And once pulled away I could be tortured. 

My grip was weak. The enemy whispered. I turned to listen, because I barely noticed Jesus had my hand. Unfortunately the enemy loves to fight low, and he knows where to throw those punches. And he will always go for the kill. The enemy's whispers got louder, and I let go of Jesus hand so I could turn and fight.  Warning lame move! Well hindsight and all that right? The thoughts were swirling faster and getting louder.

I felt I HAD to see where one of the women lived. (Yes in my head at the time it sounded like an excellent idea, and thought it would help.) I made my husband drive me there. We go down the street she lived, where my husband had spent so much of his time, and I realized it was also a street I knew well. My daughter plays there often, we have friends that live there. I was starting to panic, the thoughts were screaming and pounding inside me. Then like I said before the enemy goes for the gut. As we drove by the house that I had been so sure I needed to see, her roommates were outside.
They recognized us as we drove by, I got pointed at, sneered at, and laughed at.
Then if possible my mind went to darker places.

Ephesians 6:12
 For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.

 I let the enemy take me on a trip and it sucked to say the least. My husband drove me home while the whole time I flipped out screaming and cussing, I was in a complete panic. I don't remember all what came out my mouth. I barely remember getting home. I landed on my bed and turned to mush. Took hours to calm down and make my brain slow down. Turns out once again when I thought I was all alone, Jesus was there. I thought I had gone so far I lost Him. Nope. When I had let go of His hand to turn and fight, I didn't get to far. As soon as I had let go there was NO light. I had tripped and fell on my face right in front of Him, and He was just waiting for me to take His hand again. See the thing is, He is always a gentleman, and so very patient. He didn't say wow that was dumb, you really thought you were going to be able to fight all that on your own!?  He didnt even think that. He waited and cried as his daughter got confused and tortured. He waited till I asked for His help. He would never force me to take His hand. But I was smart enough to grab it as soon as I remembered it was there. Yesterday I made the dark and scary place worse. But I have my Jesus. And when we walk out together on the other side, it will make it that much sweeter.

I pray I learned this lesson, and I don't think I can fight on my own again. Maybe I should put a sticky note next to my bed that I will see when I get up? Hey don't forget your armor today it will look awesome with your outfit <3 me

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

just hold his hand

I have heard people say if you follow Jesus you will also share in His sufferings. I could never fully grasp what they were talking about.  I have heard people that were seemingly drowning in grief  , whisper their thanks to Jesus. This also totally baffled me. Why, I would wonder do they sound thankful? Heartbreak is NOT a time to say thank you to anyone, much less God.

These were my thoughts before my world started to unravel around me.

A few short weeks ago I received a phone bill covered in a number I didn't recognize. Ah you might be thinking, the same old same old. Husband cheats, wife believes in God, she forgives. Preach preach preach, blah blah blah. I don't want to preach, I want to punch, and scream, and cry. I'm on a ride I didn't sign up for. I am a christian but I didn't reach for God. He seemed (and still seems at times) too far away. Somewhere up in the clouds, not to be bothered. I numbed out, kept busy, yadda yadda yadda.

So I realized that wasn't working when I started to melt down at unhelpful times (eagle exhibit at zoo) I started looking for help. Luckily God has placed a few mature christian women in my life knowing I was going to need their knowledge now. It started to dawn on me I wasn't totally alone. They kept pointing at Jesus. I soooo didn't want to hear it. Where was He when my husband lied to my kids and I?

Then things got worse again. Hubby decided it was time to confess some more to me. Ugh, really could it get worse? Umm yeah, way worse. Almost 10 years marriage, there were at least eight women he slept with, one who was a  friend, and another who was my very best friend. That did it. I went running to Him. Almost without thinking I ran to Jesus. As I have heard a brilliant lady once say "He has to be real, the bible has to be real, or I have nothing. It was all of my hope". I understood.

He is here sitting holding my hand. He is my best friend. When I forget my big girl manners and my mouth pops off, He is patient. With all my rage and anger, He listens. When I have no words and lots of snot, He understands without me trying to struggle to get my thoughts straight. I have no idea where this roller coaster is headed. I don't know if my husband is at the end of it or not. I don't know if it will get worse. I don't know how long I will be in this awful dark scary place, but I do know I do not travel alone. My best friend holds my hand the whole way. He suffers with me. But he has the flash light and he sees the exit even though I cannot. He will lead the way, and be there when I get out. He is my hope and I thank him for it.