Six Geese A-Laying

I was just putting the dishes away in my fiance's kitchen.  He lives in a cozy duplex in Dallas, complete with PS4 and XBox 360 and all the things you'd expect from a bachelor vinyl and movie fanatic.  In a few months, this will be my home.  I was marveling at this, and then realized that I don't know where all of the utensils go.  I don't know which drawer things go in, or all the little nooks and crannies we store things in, that we know in our heads but that others would never guess.  How sweet it is, to not know my way around.  Just like I don't know my way around marriage.  Such innocent days, these are. 

We've chosen the harder path, to not know each other completely, and to trust God and each other that He will see it through.  We didn't "test drive" this relationship.  We are doing our best from what we know in part, and in part we will learn as we go.  In marriage this won't be his house, anymore.  It will be our house.  For good or bad, better or worse.  Struggling with bills or not.  It won't be my way or his way.  We'll have to find our way.  

And God help us, we will. 

Merry Christmas, everyone!  Pray for us!

Post Christmas Glow

Christmas was amazing.  I feel happy and blessed.  I attended and/or sang for 6 masses over 3 days, 4 of which were on Christmas Eve (Advent IV).  So I'm about churched out for a while, at least till next Sunday.  I have a lot to do this week, but resting is part of that.  So here's to a nice rest!

I am now entering into the phase of planned weight loss for my wedding, which is in 116 days.  I got a little bit fluffy over the food-centric holidays, so I need to lose about 5 lbs to be at a comfy weight.  I am aiming for 4 more pounds on top of that to look my best for the wedding (and honeymoon...eek!).  I have to film my Pop Pilates certification video within the next 7 days so I'm getting on that really soon.

Getting married is really fun, and being engaged over Christmas is sort of like a dream.  It is so nice to look into my fiance's eyes and have that quiet sense of knowing that it will be him, forever...every Christmas from now till the end.  I love him so.

Here are some pics from our Christmas masses:

Rain, coffee, and peace

I'm sitting here in my fiance's house.
It's dark and rainy outside, with just a hint of sunlight glowing behind the grey clouds.
I have coffee, and a little dachshund curled up by my feet.  He's at work, and I'm waiting to go meet the caterer with his mom in a few hours.
Life is sweet.

Having a good, solid man in one's life is a calming force.  There is nothing like a healthy relationship to bring cooling peace to the storms of life.  When you grow up in chaos, chaos feels like home.  You might not even know a different way is possible.

Hunter evens me out and brings peace.  It is gentle, like the sunlight here in this dim room.  But it is constant.  And Good.  Love is good.  Love never fails.

There is so much wedding planning to do on top of the hustle and bustle of the Christmas holiday approaching.  It can get overwhelming.  I'm grateful for this moment of peace.

Try and take time today to find a few peaceful moments where you can breathe a sigh of relief, and hold onto those.  Just a few more days 'till Christmas! 

Grateful Advent

Being engaged is overwhelming, and mostly I'm overwhelmed with goodness. 

I cannot believe how lucky I am.  I have love and acceptance showered on me from people who needn't do that, but do it because they want to and hold great hopes for our future together.  I am so blessed with a beautiful ring, a beautiful merging of two lives, wonderful future in-laws and the most wonderful fiance a girl could dream of. 

He is so kind and good to me.  Where others have criticized, he encourages.  This is huge.  What a blessing from God. 

Today is Sunday, Advent II.  I am dreamily enjoying my afternoon off between Anglican Church/Rehearsal and Catholic Mass tonight.  I get to see Hunter, who was out of town for a concert.  I am happy, full of yummy food, sung out, tired, and so grateful. 

Two Months of Engagement - "A Date Which Will Live in Infamy"

Ok, maybe it's an inappropriate use of that phrase.

But today is Pearl Harbour Day, and I couldn't help myself. 

God bless the memories of the those brave men and women, murdered by the Japanese, all those years ago as we launched unawares into World War II. 

Also, I've been engaged for two months today!

Why haven't I written?! Why am I not gushy about this momentous event??

I have two reasons for you:

1. I am a perfectionist and I put off posting till I could write something perfect (hah!)

2. My life got suddenly 3 times as busy when he put that ring on me.  Suddenly I went from three jobs to five.  The other two were planning a wedding, and planning a marriage.  The Catholic Church requires some basic classes, and we have chosen to require more of ourselves, by doing outside premarital counseling and reading books and praying. 

So much is going on!  Everything is good and wonderful.  Our wedding is April 21st.  We are on our way.  And I am feeling the need to write about it.  So, as I am wrapping up teaching for the semester, I promise to write more about it.  I've learned a lot as a fiancee of two months, and I have a lot to share :) 

Our wedding website is here:

theknot.com/us/amyandhunter

Happy Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and happy birthday to my darling fiance who shares the day!

Indian Style

When we sit Indian Style, with legs crossed, we should say "Indian Style".

It honors the Indians, who sit this way in the Lotus position.

Saying "Criss Cross Applesauce!" is dumb, and dumbs down everything for kids.  Kids are smart.  We can teach them about culture without dumbing down, or worrying about PC nonsense. 

Did you know that Polish and Romanian people say "Turkish Style" for crossed legs? 

The perks of not living with your boyfriend

It amazes me how many people assume that I will move in with my boyfriend.  I know I'm pretty backwards and old fashioned, but does everyone do that, nowadays?  I will not.  Sex and cohabitation are for marriage, and marriage alone.  As uncool as that makes me, that's what I'm doing.

Here are some perks of NOT living with my boyfriend.  On my 45 minute drive home, I get to see some nice Dallas skyline, which looked lovely in the rain, tonight.

Improvement past Calvinism

I am wanting to write something every day this month.  October is my birth month, and in my opinion, the most magical month there it.  It has fall, Halloween, Columbus Day, and just has a feeling to it.  We think of pumpkins, baked goods, hay rides, crisp nights, and ghosts.  I love it.

It is also leading up to the 500th anniversary of the tragedy that was the Protestant Reformation.  I used to be all about the Reformation, when I was a Calvinist.  But now I see how one huge crack led to more cracks, and is now tens of thousands of splinters in the body of Christ.  It is so sad!  We long for the church to reunite in love and peace.  It is what we need.  Someday.

I have been thinking this week about improvement and healing.  I know I write about healing quite often, but it bowls me over to see such things going on in my life.  It was almost as if until this past 2 years, my belief in God's power was an intellectual exercise.  It was as if we had to be not bad for our lives to be in order.  People who screwed up their lives with sin and foolishness were pretty much doomed to the fruit of their labours, and their bad choices would haunt them forever.  God's forgiveness was almost an begrudging "yes, I'll save you...but only just as much as it takes to not go to hell".  But their grossness would follow them around the rest of their lives.

I am currently sifting through trying to understand where my negative, judgmental view of God came from.  I think I know where.  But it's pervasive and very hard to put down!  Even though I knew God loved me, it was as if he did so reluctantly, and was so disgusted with the choices I'd made that he gave me grace in order to stand me.  That was Calvinism to me.  I was disgusting, and God deigned to love me. 

I never saw any improvement in my life or self.  My heart was longing for God...I loved Him, and I wanted Him.  But I was so stuck in sin and negative thinking.  I had these bad, sinful habits that I could not kick.  My depression closed in around me.  It was so hard for me to see any other way. 

It's hard even now to see such amazing changes in my heart and not wonder why it took so long.  I wish I could have cast off this sadness long ago, but God gave it to me now.  And now, I will rejoice in it.

Love in October

It is love, and it is played like a cello in the fall air
Sung like a choir at the very top of a sacred spire
And felt, in my heart; in my arms
Not in having, but in the lack of longing
Not thinking on faraway places my feet could walk.
It is not the familiar tempest of thrill
The storm that carried us out to sea one day
To ride the waves of passion and fire
But in a calm, still glance
Lights dotting a safe habor
And in your welcoming voice
And a soft place called home.

The magical world of fall

For so many people (including myself!), fall is the perfect time of year.  We idealize it, dream about it, wait for it, and in Texas, we silently curse when it gets here and it's still upwards of 90 degrees outside.

Today is the first day of fall, and while it is still much too hot, I wanted to take a few moments and reflect on how great this season is.  Fall is the time when we start the downward rush toward the year's end.  Days become a bit shorter, which is why I think we get a bit more introspective.  All those extra minutes in the dark mean more processing time, warmer clothes, and a welcome change in the landscape.  Colors go from bright to rich, and our clothes go from sassy to cozy.  We dream of cuddling on the loveseat by fires, watching Friday night football games, donning scarves and boots, and the invigorating brought by crisp, cool air.

I am so thankful that God gave us seasons.  Each is enjoyable, and each has its challenges.  As soon as we savor the delights, there seems to be little "foxes" which creep up and try to gnaw away at our joy.  How can we overcome the challenges of life? 

Remember who you belong to!

If you are a Christian, you are a beloved of Christ.  He paid for your sins with his Precious Blood.  Each coming season is a love letter...a gift he lavishes on you.  And each problem or challenge reminds us that there is more to come.  He isn't giving it all to you now.  Just like it's officially fall, but I have to wait for the cooler weather - Heaven will be full of joys that your heart just could take right now.  Wait for it!

God is with you every step of the way.

You are not alone.

The beauty of this season reminds us that he loves us, not in word only, but in deed.

He has lavished himself upon you.

I read somewhere recently a little saying:

"fall reminds us how beautiful it is to let go" 

Just like the trees letting go of their summer leaves, don't be afraid to let go of worries about the future.  Enjoy this season while its here.  There will be a Spring.

What I love about Us

It is no secret by now that I am quite in love with my dear Hunter.
This is a collection of thoughts about why.

Sitting on the couch with him on the weekends says a lot about who we are individually, and who we are as a couple.  We both bring many words to the table.  I can talk for hours about culture and art, music and theatre and why I hate Hamilton.  I talk all day long at work, and when I'm not talking.  Hunter talks all day at his teaching job.  He gives out historical gems like candy.  He shapes young minds, and you can't shut him up when he goes on a rant about politics.
But when we sit together on the couch, watching a movie on a Saturday...it is peaceful.  My feet are usually on his lap.  Jackie is usually on my lap.  And some art movie made 70 years ago is on the TV.  He occasionally says something about what's going on, and I'm on the computer looking at pictures of castles.  But we are a couple.  We are together.  We are content.  We aren't 100% engaged at all moments, and that's how we like it.  We are introverts, together.

Sitting next to him in church:
We are two small people in a sea of Catholics.  He says the responses in his masculine voice while I squeak out the wrong responses in mine.  (Being in the Ordinariate is hard.)  I feel so connected and supported, but he doesn't demand attention or take any attention off Jesus.  We are just Catholics, together.  We are fellow sinners, fellow learners, and fellow beggars at the feet of Jesus.  I feel so feminine next to him, in my veil.  And he says it moves his heart to see me wear my veil.  It highlights our essential differences.  Very God.  Very us.

Sometimes when we are driving, I settle down into his shoulder, and close my eyes.  I've never once been worried that he won't take care of me.  I listen to his podcasts and 70s rock music.  Sometimes I don't pay attention and play on my phone.  But I'm always with him, and we are at peace.  On Sundays he even plays peaceful music for me because I like it.

When he laughs, he does a funny thing with his shirt.  I really like this.  It delights me.

He likes his coffee black and I load up mine with Splenda and Heavy Cream.  He remembers to keep his place stocked with both.

He listened to my sad stories about someone who made me cry.
He listened to my stories while I was crying.
He listened to me crying.
And he has never, not even once, made me cry.

He thinks mascara looks best on my eyelids and not streaming down my cheeks.

I enjoy dressing up with him.  He is so handsome, no matter what he wears, from his gym clothes to his coat and tie at church.  I love being next to someone who cares for his appearance and tries very hard to look nice with me.  It makes me want to be more beautiful for him.

My heart blossoms when he is in my life.  He allows me to be myself, but encourages health and growth.  This feels amazing.

Hunter has an amazing laugh.

He goes to the gym with me, to classes, and has even taken my barre class at the gym as the only guy there.  That is love.

He prays with me every single day.  He reminds me if I forget.
Before we dated he had never prayed with anyone in his life.
But he started doing it because I wanted to, and it wasn't weird or awkward or forced.  It just happened, and it was beautiful and it has grown into such a strong part of our relationship.

He listens to me and shares most of my opinions.  He agrees with me to the point where I get mad and hope he'll disagree with me on something because I feel he's just going along with what I say.  He swears he isn't.

He takes charge when he needs to.  I need him to, sometimes.

He is my boyfriend.
I am so blessed.
I could never have thought to pray for someone so great.

Grace came here

This is a sumptuous time of grace for me.

I had no idea, 6 months ago, in the depths of pain from abandonment, that today I would fall so easily into the comfort of God's healing.  I had no idea that my life would be taking off so much.  I had no clue that I would fall so easily into the arms of a handsome dark-haired man named Hunter.

I feel something I have never felt - the Holy Spirit actually working, doing things, a presence, an energy, a connection, a peace, and an excitement all at once.

I am swimming in it.

I am basking in it.

It keeps me up at night because I'm so excited.

It takes away my anxiety because I'm so at peace.

It calms all my fears and stuffs me full of betternment.  I am climbing to new heights.

Tonight I said "How could we ever think that God would actually do something we asked him to?"

It's silly, but my whole life I've asked God for all kinds of things, just assuming He wouldn't give them.  He gave me healing.

GUYS.  HE HEALED ME.

He healed my broken heart and healed me from sin and is making my life so much better.  I'm stronger, free from addictions, free from bad habits I used to have, unhealthy relationship cravings.  He actually does these things.  I just a long time to get in step with Him.

But He waited.  He's patient.  He's awesome.

And he's MINE.  I can't wait for the rest of my life (and hope for Heaven!!)

Revered

All it took was the road home
And roses, two in every color
and a salad and the moon, Jane Austen
and stardust
and you

And the seeds we planted years ago, pushed through
And tonight, they bloom.

Goodbye, August

When you stunned me
(Stunted me)
You looked back at me with your cold, dead eyes
And cut me as a shameful notch in your belt
(another notch in your ax handle)

I took you and your pain
(our pain)
to the beach one sunny day
I cried you into the sand
watched the dolphins jump
and watched the sunny skies turn to rain
I cast you into the sea, and our pain
(your pain, that you handed me)
pulled out the blade, and bled you into the sea
looked back over my shoulder
and cast you, like a glance, into the water

Where you sank.
With all your sinking, miserable lies.
There you sink.  There you lie.
And the hurricane came and took you away,
as I drove on to sunnier skies
(Dallas skies)
And our month
(your month)
fades now away into memory
and while you drown in your misery
I am free.
God.
I am free.

Pop Pilates Training!

I just got word that I was accepted for a scholarship to get certified in Pop Pilates!  Along with my U-Jam and Bootybarre certifications, I will continue being able to teach awesome classes that also double to keep me in shape!

I was marvelling today at how good God is, working through our different circumstances.  As a fat kid in college and beyond, I never in a million years could have pictured myself being in shape, much less teaching fitness classes. 

I always marvelled at fitness instructors.  I figured they must exist on some higher plane (I now laugh heartily at this notion).  We are just regular people who enjoy getting our butts kicked and kicking other's butts at the same time.  I'm far from super fit, but I am maintaining a good, consistent workout and eating routine because I have to.  

Much like God kept me in church by giving me a church job, God has kept me in shape by giving me a gym job.  Over the past year, the emotional roller coaster I've been on could have left me much worse off if I had allowed depression to sink me.  Normal Amy would rather lie in bed for hours after work than haul her yoga pants to the gym and smile at people while sweating and calling out cues.  But it is good for me.  It's good for others.  And God is good for giving it to me.

This entire week I've been running around getting things done to start teaching voice.  I'm more organized this year, because I know what I expect since it's my 2nd year in this district.  It is fun and feels exciting, like the start of a new chapter.  I am really enjoying my life at the moment.

Never feel like life is ended.  Things change, and we can see them as detriments or jump on it and see change as opportunities.  The former is easier.  Let's do the later :) 

Normalcy

Some days, I feel like Jesus has built a nice white picket fence around me.

I am astounded by how the mind changes and heals when sin is quitted.
Normal, stable, non-grandiose life:  It's amazing.  Let's have more.

30 Day Shred Video

Hunter went back to work, and I am kinda stuck in limbo till my school starts.

We were doing the 30 Day Shred together, but now he does it at 6 am way over in Dallas while I'm still asleep in my nice comfy bed here in Fort Worth.  I can't be with him, so I made a video of me doing Level 2 so he could feel like I was there (and I can sleep!)

Working out is for everyone.

Let Love Heal You

There is not a human walking this planet who is not wounded.

Whether we hide them, nurse them, or flaunt them, we all have wounds from others.  Some people lash out to protect themselves.  Others harm themselves, both physically and emotionally, to act out these wounds over and over.  We don't deal well with pain.  I used to believe that my life would only be pain, and I was looking for a way to escape it.

Bodies heal with time and application of healthy things.  On the other side of the coin, we can interfere with our healing by doing things which harm us.  We can choose to eat terrible things which make us sick, fat, and feel awful.  I promise you that steamed broccoli and some seasoned chicken breast will make you feel better than eating a tub of ice cream.  Poking yourself with a needle or cutting yourself with a razor blade are bad things to do, not because they make you feel bad, but they interfere with the way your body is supposed to function.

But what of the heart?  People wounded by parents, by other kids, by an abuser, etc, are all confused and hurting.  Wounds aren't so straightforward when you can't see them.  Our bodies do us a favor by getting fatter or thinner when we abuse food.  Or by alerting us with pain when we are injured.  But the pain we feel over emotional hurt is trickier.  It becomes twisted and engrained in us.  It gets tangled around our good emotions, and becomes part of our personality.  Someone who is a jerk and acts out might do so because she is reacting to a wound, hidden away and so painful that something must be done.  But what?

Our hearts and souls are made to turn to God.  God is love.  God is healing and life and goodness.  These words are so simple, that they seem saccharine and unhelpful in the midst of pain.  Yet simple actions are the best.  We can care for ourselves and let God love us, and thus tap into His immense grace and healing.  But we must move slowly.  We must go one day at a time.  There is no rush.

I used to get so frustrated because I didn't know what to do when it came to dealing with my hurt and wounds.  Yet, recently, I've seen movements in my own heart toward the light and love of God, and I'd like to share some really simple things I've learned.  Simple is good for a soul like mine.  I'd rather catastrophize, think of grandiose ways that I could fail, worry myself to death, and then do nothing because I'm so overwhelmed.  Nope.  God has a better way.

1.  Soak in the love of God

Super cheesy thing to say.  But don't worry about that.  There are so many ways to do this, I know you can find something that isn't annoying.  For me, my mind runs away with me and I fall headlong into despair.  Thought after thought takes me away from God, into myself, and God knows where else.  Bring it back.  Tackle one thing at a time.

- Read a Psalm.  (remember, simplicity is your friend)

- Sing a positive song

- Memorize some scripture that speaks about the love of God.

- Speak the truth to yourself.

- Listen to some Christian music.  Chant is my favorite.

Combat the thoughts you are hearing with bright, glorious truth.  God is not fooled by Satan's lies.  Remember, we want to take ourselves toward the healing love of God, not away from it.  What does God want you to know about His love?  Go there with your thoughts.

2. Imagine Jesus healing you

Imagine you are sitting with Jesus.   Pick a place.  It could be your kitchen table.  Or the back row of your church.  Or the place where your abuse happened.  Ask Jesus some questions and imagine what He'd say.  If you know Him, you will know the difference between what He'd say and lies.  Ask Him to heal you.  See what He does.  Offer Jesus your thoughts and imagination and see what happens.  This is a new way to pray for me, and I've found it amazing.

3. Make a list of thankful things

Sometimes you can get so bogged down in negative thoughts that it's hard to see see straight.  Bring those thoughts back to Jesus by listing the good things that have happened recently, and thanking Him for them.  I bet it will be easy to think of things once you get started.

4.  Be around healing people

If you are constantly hearing negativity, it's hard to think of anything else.  Ask God to bring healing people into your life, and then reach out to them.  A good, holy person will listen and speak love to you in ways that edify you both.  Don't be afraid to be vulnerable with people who are trustworthy.  Just a reminder: if someone gossips about people, she probably isn't trustworthy.  Mature people will be honorable and kind to those around them.

Tip from a fellow sojourner in grace:  Take things one step at a time.  Focus on the tiny ways you can inch closer to God's love.  He is there and He cares for you.  It's not impossible for you to be healed of your wounds, but you have to let Him touch your heart.  It can be scary, but God is trustworthy.  Maybe just trust Him a little tiny bit more, and see what happens.  One thing at a time.

How I Survived Emotional Trauma

My world came crashing down when my fiance suddenly left me about 4 months before our wedding.  Since our wedding was supposed to be this week, I am both celebrating NOT getting married to a dubious and unhealthy person, and I'm also thinking about how I can help others survive emotional trauma.  It really sucks when someone breaks promises and messes up your plans.  It sucks even more when someone succeeds in fooling you into permanent choices.  I am SO GLAD I got out of that unhealthy situation.

Here are a few things I did to survive.

Phase One: Triage.

St. Patrick's Day has always been a day of sadness in our family.  My mom's brother died at home when she was 10, and it's been a day that depression has cast a shadow over things, for as long as I can remember.  My sweet mom does well in her fight against depression, but some days are hard for families, and this is one of them.  My ex-fiance knew this was a tough day for our family, and he picked this day to drop an emotional atomic bomb on us all.  He came over, while my mom was there, and broke up with me with a cold and calculated affect, and then just left.  A bad day got immeasurably worse.  Since she heard the whole thing, she was there with me (thank God!).  I somehow acted quickly, instead of collapsing in tears I picked up my phone and called my therapist (also a priest), and he said to come over right away.

Get Professional Help

I climbed in the car with my mom and we both went to see him at his office.  He gave some very practical advice: one foot in front of the other.  Day to day- keep going, keep eating, keep getting out of the house, be around people.  Clear away the unnecessary things and focus on the basics.  These first few days were hell on earth, but I got through them.

After a few weeks of not being able to sleep and losing my appetite, I also went and got some help from a doctor.  Do not be tricked into shame if you need help in this way!  You will deal with your issues so much more effectively if you aren't crippled by anxiety and depression!  These mental illnesses steal your ability to heal.  Do not think it's pathetic or weak to need help.  Doctors are for the sick.  They want to help you get better.

Tell People you Trust

Before this, I had been very private and guarded with my personal issues.  But when this happened, I felt like I had nothing to hide.  I took what could have been a lot of false shame, and turned it back on the person who really was in the wrong.  I needed to talk about it.  I talked, and talked, and talked, cried, and talked some more.  I reached out and my friends took me into their homes, gave me tea and Kleenex, and just sat and listened.  One dear friend came and slept in my bed with me like we were 15.  Another took me to a movie.  A male friend offered to "take care of this person".  Each friend offered his or her strengths, in their own ways.  I never knew so many people cared until I reached out.

Make Yourself a Priority

Growing up as a Christian, putting others first was always a message I heard.  This is a good and true thing, no doubt.  But when someone is sick, that person needs care.  When that person is you, it is okay to be a little selfish.  Make healing and self-care your priority.  No one else can feel what you are feeling, so it's okay to "befriend" yourself.  Listen to your body.  Listen to your emotional needs.  I went to work every single day after this happened, except for one afternoon.  I couldn't stop tearing up at work, so I gave myself permission to go home and go to bed and cry.  I resisted the urge to feel guilty for "skipping out".  For the most part, everyone totally understood and told me it was okay to take the time I needed!  And you know what?  The world didn't end.  I benefitted from it, and so did people around me.

Stay Close to Jesus

For a while there, I was at daily mass often, weeping as quietly as possible.  One time I asked the secretary to let me into the church...and I just laid on the ground at the altar rail and wept.  If I ever needed Jesus, it was then.  I went to mass, went to confession, talked to my priest in his office, and made use of every good thing the Church has to offer.  Do not neglect prayer and the sacraments.  They are your lifeline.


Phase 2:  Finding a Steady State

Forced Social Interaction

I am a person who enjoys being at home.  I am an introvert.  I'd rather lie in bed and type on the computer (like I'm doing now!) than go out and meet friends at a bar.  But during this time, I noticed my patterns of despair.  Being alone made it easier to fall into darkness and hopelessness, so I forced myself out in the world.  I would get off from work and head to Starbucks.  I sat there, sometimes for hours, and talked to people online on my phone, on Twitter, and silly social websites.  I was involved in a Christian Chat room on Paltalk.  Although these seem silly, I found support from real people (online and offline) that helped me through day to day life through light conversation.

When I was ready, I reactivated my dating profile.  I got lots of people messaging me, and a few I messaged back.  Those early messages were along the lines of "I've just been through some hard stuff and I need sometime...thank you so much for writing me and I hope we can correspond in the future".  I didn't feel I was as ready as I thought, and I was careful to be honest about that with well-meaning young men who messaged me.  There was one man who messaged me that I didn't write back for quite some time, and when I did, we cautiously corresponded for a few weeks before meeting up.  After a few dates where he was "sure I didn't like him", I had to admit to him that I had been engaged and had it abruptly end in a traumatic way.  He was so patient and kind, I'm so glad I was honest with him, because he's now my boyfriend.  It takes time, but I was determined to get back out there and not let my ex control me through fear all men would be like him.  I couldn't let him win.

Writing

An examined life is a life well lived.  I am a huge fan of journaling.  It doesn't have to be perfect, or consistent, or even good.  I fall into the trap of wanting everything to be nice and neat when I write, but this time I did not have the energy to care.  I wrote, I cursed, I screamed my words onto the paper.  And then I threw it away.  Journaling was a life-saver for me because I could try to make sense of what I was feeling and get it out in a totally safe, non-judgemental way.  As a therapist once told me:  "You can't hurt the paper's feelings."

Good Habits

I found solace in my schedule.  I made some habits which wouldn't work long term, but at the time they comforted me.  I stopped making coffee at home and stopped at Starbucks every morning on the way to work.  I saw the same people everyday.  They learned my name.  I told some of the baristas what happened to me.  We made a connection, and it felt good.  Every Saturday morning I deposited my check in the bank.  Every Sunday after church I'd go to Tom's Diner with my friends.  Make a solid routine and it acts like a healthy anchor.

I also kept teaching my fitness classes at the gym.  Working out is an amazing way to be healthy and combat depression.  Even though I wasn't always 100 % up to par in my classes, just having them happen every week was magic to me.

Phase Three: Acceptance and Forgiveness

I am working on this phase right now.  When I am further along, I will be able to comment more.  But for now, believe that you can keep going!


I am a survivor.  I am still going.  I am not completely healed yet, but I wanted to tell my story of hope.  Do not let fear stop you.  When something awful happens, you have to keep moving.  To stop moving is to die.  Everyone has a different set of things that help, but you must remember that you are more resilient than you think you are.  Keep going, no matter what!  Health is a choice you must make, or you will end up like the people who hurt you.  Now that you know how terrible it feels, you don't want to do that to anyone.  No one deserves to be abused or mistreated.

I want you to have hope that things can be survived, and you can come out on the other side full of life and even BETTER than you were before this awful thing happened to you.  You can't see it now, but keep going.  You will get there.  We will get there, together.

Extreme Unction

There are 7 sacraments offered by the Roman Catholic Church.  Baptism, Confirmation (Chrismation), the Eucharist, Confession, Holy Orders, Matrimony, and Anointing of the Sick.

This last one has a shroud of mystery around it to many people, and conjures up images of a priest visiting a dying person in the hospital, giving Last Rites and all that.  The idea is that a person must be at death's door to receive this rite.  While this may have been the practice for some time, the teaching of the church is that this sacrament is offered to anyone who is suffering from a serious illness, in hopes that the person may be healed physically and spiritually.  Through the ministry of the priest we remember that Jesus touched many sick people and healed them.  A person need not be dying to get this sacrament.

I received this sacrament a while back, and I wanted to tell my story.  I was skyrocketing toward marriage, making wedding plans with a date and priest meetings and designing a ring and making a list of wedding invites.  Everything was moving along.  It was finally happening for me.  Then the young man I was to marry threw a wrench in it all.

"I'm not sure if we should be together".

These words shattered my peace and life trajectory.  I was so devastated that I couldn't focus on anything else.  For three weeks I agonized, cried myself to sleep at night, and was so worried about the back and forth things he was saying that I became severely depressed.

I asked my confirmation sponsor (then a deacon) what I should do, and he suggested anointing of the sick.  I was worried I'd be judged for wanting this when I wasn't dying or even physically ill.  I had a million excuses in my head about why I shouldn't ask for this, and that I was silly or just wanted attention.  But my deacon friend assured me this is why the sacraments exist: for the people who need them.  He made me an appointment with his Jesuit superior.

I showed up to his office like a kid sent to the principal.  (I'm always like this when I'm nervous).  I went inside, and gingerly told him what was going on, that I had no peace, and desperately wanted Jesus to help me.  He listened like the kind and wise man that he is, and gave me the rite.  He said some prayers out of the book, and anointed my hands and my head with oil.  After it was over I thanked him and left.

Did I feel different?  Honestly, no.  I figured it was a passing thing; another sacrament I could mark off the list.  I still felt depressed.  I was still filled with dread that my engagement was going to end.  I went home from my trip not knowing what to expect.  It was only then that I really came to know the power of this sacrament.

My fiance blindsided me with a two-by-four style hit.  He broke up with me out of the blue after assuring me of his love and that everything was fine.  I was so shocked that I didn't cry.  I was living on the edge of a surge of anxiety and adrenaline for months.  I couldn't sleep, eat, or relax.  My life was constant tears and a drive for survival that rivaled The Fugitive or Rocky.

I didn't see the miracle in all of this until so much later.  Over the course of my journey into the Catholic Church, I ditched a lot of unhealthy habits and thought patterns that weren't serving me and were making me miserable.  I started on a journey to healthy thinking and dealing with stress and anger in much better ways than I'd done for years.  The great part is this: instead of collapsing into despondency like I'd done before when awful things happened, I held onto Jesus.  I clung to the Church as my lifeboat.  I wanted nothing more than to get away from this awful person who did this and be with healthier people who loved me and didn't want to harm me.  Coming from a cycle of abuse in my relationships with men, this was huge.  Something major had changed in me.  I think it had a lot to do with this Anointing of the Sick.

Who knows what might have happened if I didn't come to Jesus in this way?
We will never know.  But it is clear to me that nothing harmful came out of receiving this sacrament.  I needed Jesus in an ever-increasing way, and I was so happy to be near Him however I could.  Like my patron saint, Amelia of Temse, I was determined to cling to Jesus with broken arms, even when a man tried to drag me away from Him.

So I encourage you to pray about this Sacrament.  If you need healing and it's serious, ask your priest!  I know some priests are more willing to do this than others, but it can't hurt to ask.  Jesus wants to comfort you and unite with you in your suffering.  The Church is there for you.  Take advantage of the incredible grace we have offered to us in her sacraments.  I fully believe that my trauma would have been much worse if I hadn't done this.  God indeed works in mysterious ways.

It is as if all the tears and knots and wounds unmended are twisting into a rope around my head and heart, today.  I am dizzy from allergies, swimmy headed from funny sleep patterns and coughing fits.  I am flooded with memories, fears, taunts, and worries from years past.

I do not know why I was under such attack yesterday.  From every angle. Insecurity, issues regarding trust and pastors, the Evangelical church and friendship, jealousy, sexual temptation both in kind and jealous despair, sadness over the terrible state of our sinking culture, and a mind that can't focus or remember. Plus, I was supposed to getting married in a few weeks.  It's all a blur.  A blur of blues and the sun hurting my eyes.

I am here, but I am terrified.
I am terrified, but I am Yours.
You are contractually obligated to take care of me.

These are old hurts.  The temptation is rage against myself instead of stepping into healing is an old one.  I am old.  I am weary.  But I notice how less inclined I am to run from God.  It is all I can do sometimes to cry and realize that things haven't gone my way and He's all I have left. I think that's a good place to be.

Vade retro Satana! Nunquam suade mihi vana! Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas!

Healed in Jesus' Name

Today I saw this type of thing on Facebook (don't all things happen on Facebook?) -

Post in a Christian Group: 

"Hi I'm struggling with anxiety and PTSD and depression.  I haven't been to therapy and I'm not taking meds, but I really am so down and can't work and don't know what to do."

Comments:

"Prayers."

"I'm so sorry to hear that.  Praying for you."

"Oh I'm so sorry."

"In Jesus' name you are healed."

...wait.  What?

Yes, this is a typical response from a lot of Evangelical types, in my expirience.  I heard this all the time, growing up.  It went somewhere between the "psychology is the work of Satan" discussion and the "Too blessed to be depressed!" sign.  

Mental health and suffering are controversial and suspicious topics in the modern church world.  Some people fear what might be lurking below a murky surface of depression and gloom.  Could it be demons?  Could it be a lack of trust in God?  Whatever the cause, the response inevitably comes to this - 

"By His stripes you are healed!"

I realize that I had a weird mix of Southern Baptist down-home religion, Calvinist catechism, and charismatic teenage schooling.  These give me a very unique perspective and outlook, much of with is actually healthy nowadays.  I also would like to comment that I know many, many Evangelicals who address mental health in a realistic way and promote the dignity and worth of each person suffering.  But on the other hand, I knew many and have read many rants and "warnings" from people who don't know the difference between depression and demonic possession.  In their eagerness to help people be free, they treat real illness as a state of mind at best, and a surrender to the works of the devil at worst.  They say a lot of unhealthy things.

"In Jesus name, you are healed".  

YES.  We are healed in Jesus' name.  But until recently, I thought that pronouncement was the end of it.  "Healing" was a vague and daunting term.  It was a term of shame for what I couldn't have.  It was a term that meant I needed to find something, some esoteric spiritual thing that I had no clue about.  I shoved me deeper into depression when I felt that Jesus was out of reach because I couldn't feel Him, and that I somehow didn't do whatever hidden thing I needed to do to get His healing.

What is real healing?

Real healing is a restoration of what we are truly meant to be. 

When a bone breaks, it is set into the shape of a non-broken bone to be healed.

When a person has the flu, healing is being rid of the disease and restoration to a non-influenza state. 

When our minds are depressed, healing looks like correction of the mental and physical things which make us depressed.  We cannot approach a disease which is both mental and physical and say that we only can approach it spiritually.  To do so is a disservice to Jesus.  Especially we use His name as some sort of magic word to heal the person.  

Healing comes from many different sources, people, and methods.  We can be healed by correcting our unhealthy thinking.  Or by getting out of a bad and unhealthy situation.  When I recently experienced an emotional trauma, my anxiety got so bad that it was hard for me to sleep, eat, or go to work.  I found healing by getting away from the unhealthy person.  I went to church often. I journaled, prayed, and read the Bible.  I met with good, healthy people, including my priest and a therapist.  I also went to the doctor and got some medicine for the physical side of my anxiety.  All of these were healing.  And all of these good things were from Jesus.  We ARE healed in His name.  But it isn't a magic phrase that makes it happen...it's faith, action, and a desire for health.  

Don't be tricked by the enemy into further despair because a phrase or mere belief doesn't heal you.  Go find your healing using that beautiful mind and heart and body that God gave you.  He gave you friends, a Church, books, doctors, and medicine to help you.  There IS help available.  Don't' give up. 

Saint Amelia's Day 2017

You have crowned the year with your kindness. Your footsteps will drip with fruitfulness

I am living in the days of true redemption. I am seeing God's goodness in the land of the living.

Not too long ago, many of you will remember, I was in great heartache.

A broken engagement, a bit of gaslighting and a lot of tears and suffering. I had just become Catholic, was on my way to marriage, and two months into it all, it came crashing down. What I thought was going to be the best year of my life quickly became what seemed the darkest time, in a matter of about an hour. I was devastated.

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; (2 Cor.4:8-9)

Yet God was hard at work.  We can't see it through our tears, but He is always at work.  We must believe it.  We must keep going.

Through weeks of crying myself to sleep every night, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower.  I went to work.  I went to mass instead of eating lunch.  At one point I was lying in the empty church against the communion rail, pouring my heart out to Jesus in the tabernacle.  I couldn't go home.  I wanted to be near Him.  

I forced myself to be with people, to reach out to people.  I never knew so many people loved me...people at my church, at my job, at the gym...they all took me in and loved me, letting me come over, sleep in their guest rooms. Giving me tea and hankies.  They just loved me.  It was exactly what I needed.  In my weakest moment, I discovered the love of God through other people.  In my brokenness I beheld the goodness of the Lord.

St. Amelia (Amalberga) of Temse

My patron/confirmation saint is St. Amelia of Temse.  She's so hipster, that you probably haven't heard of her.  She lived in the 700s in Flanders, and was on her way to becoming a nun.  She was totally sold out to God.  But there was a man hell-bent on destroying her plans.  Enter: Charlemagne.  He was quite taken with her beauty, and made every effort to tempt her away from Christ.  It even came to the point where she was lying on the floor, prostrate in front of the tabernacle, and Charlemagne tried to drag her off.  He pulled her arm so hard that he broke it.  

I can't imagine the devastation of that moment for Amelia.  A powerful, rich, handsome man trying with all his might to literally take her from Jesus.  Shattering pain that probably had her feeling helpless, not knowing what he'd do next.  But Jesus stepped in.  What happened next is lost to history, but we do know that Charlemagne changed his mind.  He repented, and left her alone.  She was healed, and God restored what her heart desired.  No one could take her from Jesus. 

Why now?  Why do I speak of this now?
Well, I had no idea what was in store for me when I chose Amelia as my very own saint.  Her name (my name!) and her story captured my attention.  I was molested at church, much like Amelia.  I feel that man and others have tried to take me from Jesus.  But I had no idea the drama that was going to unfold just after I became Catholic.  Like Amelia, my dreams were shattered.  My body racked with pain.  My heart broken. It was hard to see through tears.  But I, like Amelia, clung to Jesus.  And ever shall.  

Yesterday was the feast of Amelia.  My first saint day as a Catholic.  And yesterday, God revealed in my heart the incredible work He's doing.  There is so much grace and healing He's poured out on me!  Not only healing for this year, this hurt...but past ones as well!  I am absolutely astounded at all He's doing.  And all through hurt.  No tears are ever wasted!

About 6 weeks after my ex-fiance left me, I met Hunter.  It is a grace I do not deserve, and could not have imagined.  But this young man kneels next to me, says our Catholic prayers with me, receives Jesus with me, and stands as witness to the grace and goodness of God.  Do not ever doubt the power of restoration!  As we celebrated St. Amelia's Day yesterday, sweating in matching colors on our picnic in the Texas July sun, I marveled at all God has done.  Thanks be to God for his goodness.  

halfway round

You said there was a fire

and standing at the casement, I plunged headlong into the Night

Calling down help from every avenging angel

Bent on saving every kind soul to the light

But Lo, upon the Hill, a quieter flame has dawned

Beyond the confused night, silent as the stars

Gracious and polite, a pin-hole of glory

To infernos unseen, resting upon my forehead

In a sweep of oil, a whispered blessing

You said there was a fire

But no one is running; no one is afraid

Instead beckoned out of my panic into the snow

Through a silent piney woods

To a glowing window, a sturdy door

Into your arms on a settee, wrapped in warm quilts

And gazing into a crackling fireplace,

Complete with a pot of tea.

It seems a distant memory, my smokey lad,

To think that something else could have ever existed

Beyond this room,

This comfort, this Church, our books,

A sleeping dachshund, and you

and me.

*6 Months as a Catholic, July 8th, 2017.
Thanks be to God. 

The magical reality of prayer

Growing up, prayer was something I did and wanted to do.  I prayed, feverishly, from my little heart throughout the day, almost every day.  I loved prayer and loved scripture, but there was always a bit of downturn mixed in with it.  In my little plaid-and-knee socks Calvinistic world, the image I could not escape was that weekly offering envelope with the check boxes:

-Offering
-Church attendance
-Bible read daily

Now, I know this was completely well-meaning.  Keeping up with money and how many come to your church every week, and encouraging people to read the Holy Scriptures is in no way a bad thing.  But being a perfectionist and a rule-follower, I could not wait to check those boxes every week.  If I didn't actually read my Bible one day,  I'd jump through mental hoops to decide if hearing the scripture read at school actually counted for reading my Bible.  And if I checked the box in the affirmative, I'd feel guilty about it all week.  Wash, rinse, repeat.

So, prayer and scripture reading to me were good things; things I liked, but also a source of suffering.  There was an unattainable element to prayer.  It seemed like adults I heard speaking of their prayer lives, and later, teens in my youth group talking about their worship experiences were just out of reach to me.  I wanted to expirience Jesus the way they talked about.  I tried to.  I read the Bible and it left me with more questions and frustrations, anxiety over the way scripture was used to justify hand-raising in church or speaking in tongues.  I avoided certain books altogether (like Acts...I still haven't read that one!) because of the discord it caused in my heart.  And when I prayed, I would beg Jesus for peace and joy that never seemed to come.  I fear that I lived most of my religious life in a cloud of depression, until I was about 30.  What I wanted was always out of reach.  The phrase "beggar at the door of grace" really resonated with me.  Calvinism was my home because I never felt quite good enough for anything else, and people who were happy seemed suspect.  I was certain something was wrong with me, something not fixable, and that I just had to keep trying to get along the best I could.

When I became Catholic, I expected to think the same way but add in the sacraments and some Marian prayers and be able to take communion.  Boy, was I wrong!  The shift in thinking that I have experienced through the grace of conversion still surprises me more and more.  I have only been Catholic for almost 6 months, but I continue to change and grow and see things new ways.  I am being healed.  Thanks be to God!  New insights are abundant, but also I am more able to relax into my own skin.  I am more settled and calm.  I am more merciful, to others, it's true.  But where I needed mercy the most, God has provided.  I am able to rely on God's mercy to myself.

Prayer is one of the ways that my life is changing.  I don't pray any more than I used to.  I don't suddenly worship Mary or say 10 rosaries a day or skip praying to Jesus (if you are Protestant, know I'm not kidding about this!).  There is a simplicity of trust that now resides in my heart.  What enables me to relax and trust is this:  before I was trying to get somewhere in my prayer.  Now I am simply being.  I am being present with Jesus.  I am being present with the saints.  I am being present with myself.

Even if I get nowhere in my prayers and am nothing but a ball of anxiety, Jesus is not.  He's present with me through the grace of the Holy Spirit and my baptism.  And He is present, literally, in the Eucharist in which I take him into my body.  That is almost too intimate to write about, but it's real.  And in prayer, even if I feel nothing, I am assured of His love.  Even if I say nothing.  Even if I do nothing.  Even if I don't know what to say.  Even if all I have to offer are my tears.  There is nowhere to get to, nothing to attain, because He's already done it all.  All I have to do is come to Him.

Sometimes I offer my own words.
Sometimes I offer my tears.
Sometimes I offer His own words in praying the Psalms.
Sometimes I offer the words of the Church in the Liturgy of the Hours.
Sometimes I ask the saints to pray with me and offer their own prayers with mine.
Sometimes I just stare at Him like a lovesick fangirl.
Sometimes it's utilitarian.
Sometimes it's poetry.
Sometimes it's wishful when I can't forgive someone.
Sometimes it's painful when I face my own insecurities.
Sometimes it's boring.
Sometimes it's moving.
But always, it's with Him.  And it always works.
I have never seen prayer NOT do something.

If you are beginner, pray.  Pray: tell God you love Him and ask for what you want.  Then trust that He loves you and He will give you the very best things for you.  Thank Him for what He's given you.  Ask for the grace to manifest the fruits of the Spirit, and grow.  He will do it.  He loves you.

Sometimes I say that prayer isn't magic, but kinda is.  It is spiritual, emotional, and it gets things done...if you have the talent to see beyond right now or next week and into what you really love.  Love Jesus, and pray.  You can't go wrong.

It's a journey, friends.  I started off feeling sad and never good enough when I pray, and here I am...and who knows where I will be in 5 years?

But I know I'm sticking with Jesus.  And I know it will be good.
Just like He is :)

June promises

Just like a sweet June day,
coloured pink like the blushing brides June hides
Starting off sweet and well-sipped
with moonbeams and fireflies and porch swings

You hold my hand in this new world
Our new world
Where you and me, a smoky flavored lad
and me, whoever I am this month
Emerging slow and blinking in the sunlight, (Lazarus and myself)
3 months of zombie strips and musky death-like mourning
We've broken free

To you, my lad.  To you, and your arms
Trying in this silly world, blushing at the thought of
hope coming true
all things made new
a life of me and you
To you and your sparkling eyes
To see Jesus from a different angle
Try kneeling down once in awhile
And the cold light will fill your wearied head

With June days, sweet coloured hues
Songs in the twilight hours
whispers in the darkness
And enough starlight
To light the dusty road home.

All this piety, and sex, too.

Sex.

Yeah, it got your attention.  Great.

I have come to an understanding.  People of a certain age, or generation, who were raised in a general demographic, have a blindspot.  They can talk about anything under the sun, with passion and sometimes understanding.  They will be compassionate and reasonable, and polite and show Southern hospitality by offering you a lemonade while you chat.

Talk about pets, politics, education, morality, the government, kindness, cooking, decorating, cars, travel, the military...anything, really, and all is well.

But mention sex, and it gets shut down so fast that your head will spin.

When I say sex, I don't mean engaging in a salacious or inappropriate conversation.  Even talking about the virtue of chastity has this reaction from some people.  I do not understand it.  I do not understand why talking about how harmful pornography is, how masturbation is wrong, and how chastity is more than just what we do with our genitals could evoke such vitriol.

I have been told that "No one here cares about sex, I don't care about what you do, I am old, I don't think about sex anymore, TMI, no one wants to know, etc".  Granted, this was all online conversation.  But I don't think real life would be any better.

Is it that an entire generation of church people suffer from extreme shame?

Do we not see how this is harmful?  Not talking about sex (but surely having plenty of sex!) has ruined male-female relationships since the 60s.  It has decimated the vestiges of compassion and feeling and goodness between men and women.  It has made the back seat the only place sex is dealt with.  Are we really so ashamed that we can't discuss virtue and right vs. wrong?

I get it.  It sucks to suffer from guilt.
Maybe it would suck less to know that you passed on some goodness to younger people before they live in shame, too.

Talk to your kids about sex.
Talk to them about chastity.
Talk to them about pornography and masturbation.
I am guessing it totally sucks to do this, but isn't it better than losing them?

Before this turns into parenting advice from a non-parent, I would like to add that I'm working on this.  No one talked to me about sex much as a kid.  And I developed some really unhealthy ideas about it.  Thank God for the catechism of the Catholic church and the frankness and honesty with which it confronts sex as a good, wholesome, and healthy gift from God which has requirements.  It's so healing.

God knows our culture needs a lot of healing among the people of God over something so good, and something so drastically harmful when it gets out of control.  May it begin with me.

Eastward, ho

In the bright dawn of a May morning
he called me away from the darkness
The self-addicted yawning of inward looking
To the glory
of standing by his side
facing the rising sun
smelling the smoke of it all passing away
on his clothes, on his skin
his earthy, scratchy skin
and feeling the brush of his sleeve
as he takes my hand

just a little bit into the morning
a few winks into the day
we aren't golden
we aren't special
we aren't enlightened
but we are Alive
and that's halfway to glory,
my heart's Friend.

The flipside of unreality

As the shadows clear away from this terrible thing,

I realize how much damage has been done.

The obvious damage (the trauma of being lied to, believing the lies that I was going to be married this summer, planning my life around being a wife, setting up things to make that happen, things like that) is not the only thing, but only part.

The other part is the emotional trauma that comes from not only being lied to, but being abandoned in a very dramatic and inappropriate way.  Going from "we are still engaged" one minute to "I am leaving you and I'll never see or talk to you again" another minute is not a normal or appropriate way to leave someone.  In any way, shape, or form.  Since the person who did this is not worth my time or energy, I will try to not write about him, but about me and my hope for healing.

I am struggling with the physical effects of anxiety.

At first I couldn't sleep or eat.  I lost 10 lbs in a week.  I have since taken care of that (thanks be to God!).  I have been flooded with the love of good friends, more love than I ever knew that people loved me.  It's amazing.

But anxiety is still there.

It's not fair.  It makes me feel weak.  It makes me nervous.  And it's not fair.  I already said that.

I realize that I am a ******* survivor, and that no one can get at me anymore.

This is true.  It's real and true and it kicks me in the face when I start feeling despair.  I have proven to myself that I am 5 million times stronger than I thought I was.  All the lies he told me became things to overcome, and I've done it.

But that physical anxiety...there it is.

My shoulders feel like they are on fire most of the time.

My face burns.  My arms burn.  I am short of breath.

I have to step away from people and focus on calming my breathing.

It really sucks, because I like to be calm.  I like to be in control, and savvy, and witty and not ruled by any kind of emotion.

But there it is.  It's like PTSD, when some sound or an explosion on TV can trigger someone.  Normal things do this to me.  When a sweet, well meaning man tells me I'm the only girl, the alarm bells go off in my head.  How can I know if he's lying?  How can I trust him?  How can I trust anyone?  How can I trust myself?

I seriously hope that God in His heaven is not light on the consequences to a man who would cause such terrible pain in not just one, but at least 3 girls.  

I want justice borne out in my body for the nights I haven't slept.

I want justice borne out in my mind for the fact I can't ******* trust anyone anymore.

I want vindication in how my heart has been held hostage for far too long.  One second wasted on him was far too long.

I am dating someone.

He is a blank slate, as far as I'm concerned.

He doesn't deserve to live in someone's shadow.  May Jesus come swiftly to clear away the shadows with His own light.  May truth be illuminated in this whole thing, so that no one can hide.

And may I not push him away just because a sociopathic narcissist tried to ruin my life.  He couldn't ruin it.  He failed.  He is a failure, and I am not.

I am so much more.  I live in truth, reality, and hope.

And Jesus is there.

He may be able to earn my trust.  Time will tell.

My commitment is to hope, honesty, love, kindness, and reality.