My Happy Heart

It is never too late to be who you might have been. ~George Eliot

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

THE SCARLETT LETTER WE WEAR

There is something that has been really weighing on me for some time now....and I have tried to ignore it, "kind of" write about it, talk to people who don't get it, listen to people who DO get it....

I've decided to start a club called: THE REAL DIVORCED WIVES OF CHURCHVILLE  or perhaps, DIVORCED WOMEN FORMERLY KNOWN AS CHURCH LADIES.

I may or may not be kidding about starting a club - but rest assured, there are more than enough women that would be eligible to join.

This post may take me awhile to write but I guarantee it will make you uncomfortable. 

I ask that you not read this with your defense in mind and then email me and tell me how wrong or mistaken I am. Read this knowing that these are very REAL experiences of very REAL people - the same ones that God loves so much.

For many years, I heard from women who have said that once they divorced, they were cut off from some of their friends, etc. I pooh-poohed it because I didn't REALLY believe it.

I do now.

I touched on it when I wrote about it in this post: WHERE ARE YOU MY FRIENDS?  I hinted at it in this post: MISUNDERSTOOD. I became more blatant in my last post titled "DO I MATTER STILL?

What I am getting at is the question of what the church does with and to divorced women. 

Let me tell you a true story. I will not use names, places or identifiable facts.  Why? Because of the rejection divorced women are put through by those that are commanded to love is painful enough. (Remember what I told you....DON'T defend by saying YOU don't put them through it...)

I have five friends that come immediately to mind and more if I think harder, so I am going to combine them into one character: 

Wanda

Wanda married when she was 23 to what she thought was not only the love of her life, but a solid "man of God" who also grew up in the church. They had a long marriage full of what was disguised as joy to the church that watched their every move. But it was really full of an inner grief that no one could see - not even Wanda. Her husband was very respected in the church - almost revered because of his strong "spiritual" leadership not to mention his large contributions of money to the church. 

Wanda had the children, raised the children, and taught them to go to church. The other thing she taught them was to put on a good face, even when inside, she was crumbling.

Wanda's Pillar husband had a secret life. One that was sickly addicted to sex. Not sex with his wife.... but actually, anybody BUT his wife. Prostitutes mostly - some even underage, pornography of the sickest kind.

When Wanda found this out, she was, as one could imagine, devastated and HIS rejection of sex with her all made perfect sense now. But Wanda was taught not to give up on marriage. She confronted her husband and with what appeared to be deep remorse, he agreed to go to counseling. In private counseling, he saw the error of his ways and was cured. Of course, Wanda, being the good wife that her mother taught her to be, did not breathe of word of this to anyone. Nobody suspected that there was anything but deep love in their marriage and family.

It was deep alright....but it was deep pain within her entire being
 
A very short amount of time went by and Pillar husband was back to his old tricks. Wanda desperately called the pastor and his wife for some wise and godly counsel.

Upon entering the pastor's office, Wanda could feel something very tangible in the air. And then began the unexpected. Accusations. And Wanda was the target.

They asked things like what she did that made her unattractive to her upstanding Pillar husband. Doesn't she like sex? Is she emotionally and physically unavailable? 

Pillar husband sat there smugly with a forced forlorn look on his face, and they bought it.

Wanda left the office and her husband and moved her kids to a safe place... And filed for divorce even after the pleadings of her sex addicted Pillar of the church husband. She was finished.

Enter, the shunning. Not a formal shunning as is practiced by cults and sects, but a slow, insidious shunning. Kind of like a slow bleed. Mrs. Pastor woman tells someone so they can "pray" about it. Pillar husband tells the board of the church he is on that his wife has taken the children and left him (leaving out the fact that he has dishonored his wife and their marriage vows in so many vile ways.) Of course, the board members, consisting of only men, each go home and get it off of their chests that Wanda has gone off the deep end. 

Next thing she knows, she finds out from a curious friend that "she cleaned out their bank accounts and left town with the children." Wanda still keeps quiet about the sickness of her now ex-husband... no defense... she was bred to make things look good.
  • Wanda can not go to the church without her Scarlet Letter - even her new church in another town has her tried and convicted.
  • Wanda's "christian" college friends have abandoned her.
  • Wanda's friends that had "always been there" have disappeared.
  • She is rejected by the very people who are charged with loving one another. 
  • Wanda gets VERY little child support from Pillar father because, before this happened, he hid any money they had saved and gambled the rest.
  • Pillar husband is still on the church board and even more respected for "going through" what he went through. Has remarried some other victim and is still a secret sex addict.
There is a lot more to the combination of stories, but suffice it to say that all of these facts (and much more!) have really happened and are happening right in the churches all across the country.

Women are the rejected ones even if the husband is the one who broke the vows. They are rejected by all of the "happily married" women. And find themselves leered at and proposed to by "happily married" church men - as they are fair game now.

It just doesn't make sense.

If this left you uncomfortable - good. it should.

...or not believing that this is happening in YOUR church. and you would be oh, so very wrong. 

The reason I wrote this is because I have been hearing from some of my friends and acquaintances regarding the treatment they have received from the people in the churches that are charged with forgiving as they themselves have been forgiven. They have been told to get the log out of their own eye before trying to remove the splinter from someone else's eye (linked to my blog on this subject.) But somehow it doesn't apply...

Maybe I will start the club after all.........











 

Friday, November 14, 2014

DO I MATTER STILL?

One of the things that I learned about myself while going through a 32 week intense group counseling time was that I did matter after all. For some reason, when I was little, I got the message that I didn't matter, nor did my feelings matter and it was reinforced throughout my life. So I stuffed a lot when I felt it unsafe to feel.... And I TRULY did not consider my feelings of any value. That is not a ploy to get you crying and feeling sorry for me nor did I really cognitively recognize it until a few years ago. But....it just is.

But I digress from my original thoughts.

Do I still matter?

Still matter to what or whom? 

This is the question that came to me today while processing my life as it is now. Because it is, thankfully, far and away from what it once was. The part of it that I am talking about is religion.

You see, I am not religious any more, and grateful for what I have been through to be able to say that. But every once in awhile when I talk to one of my still-in-religion friends, I am reminded of how deeply religion was ingrained into me.....and how hard it has been to shake those religious "demons" off.... those little ones that sneak up on me ever so quietly and says things like, "Really? You say you love God but you don't go to church?!" or when the subject of LGBT or abortion comes up, I do not have condemnation but I think that one one of the last things Jesus said before he left the earth was that everything was summed up into these two concepts: Love God....Love Others. No need to worry about the religious "rules." I don't get to judge anyone, just do those two things. That's it.

Please don't get me wrong....I am not boasting that I am any better than anyone and I truly do have respect for many religious folk, but feel a certain joy in being out of the quagmire that I was personally in for over 50 years of my life. I'm also not implying that if you go to church, you are religious. But if you think our salvation is tied to whether or not you go to church - you are who I am thinking about when I say this.

I have divorce, some very tough family issues and others' judgments of me to thank for jarring me out of the "trance."  Just because every word that comes out of my mouth is not in "christianese" doesn't mean my every breath is not from the Father. Just because I don't go to church every Sunday (or ever :) ) doesn't mean that each hour of each day is not a conversation with my Creator. Just because I don't post scriptures on facebook or share your "repost this or you don't love God" junk does not mean I don't matter to the One who is "especially fond of me." (to use a quote from "The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young.)

What got me thinking about this was that my upcoming very short wedding ceremony simply speaks to the love and commitment we have to one another and not a 'traditional' ceremony. At first I thought we needed something more "religious sounding" - because would it really be a wedding without it? After a bit of thought and examining my motivations, I say yes! It will be a wedding followed by a deeply fulfilling marriage. Because it is the inner stuff that matters more than what you see or hear on the outside.

I keep finding these cobwebbed corners of my religious mind and cleaning them out, and filling them with the joy that was intended for those corners rather than the dark rules that have confused and clouded me for so long.


So, to go back to my original question....Do I matter still?

Yes, I do matter and even though I don't talk the talk much anymore, I do walk the walk which leads me back to my HAPPY HEART.













Sunday, October 5, 2014

THIS GIRL WHO CHANGED MY LIFE FOREVER

This girl....

This tiny baby girl...

She changed my life...

This girl with thick dark brown hair and brown eyes with the longest lashes I had ever seen, came into my life..... miraculously.

One day I was not a mother and the next day I was.

We loved each other from the moment we laid eyes on each other.

This little powerhouse of a baby, child, girl, teenager and adult.... how could I have ever lived without her?

She rarely cried. Really. 

She loved shoes before she could walk. Really.

Determined! I'm pretty sure if you look the word up in the dictionary - her picture is there.

She never crawled. It was just not her style. At 8 months she stood up and started walking and there was no stopping her.... and she is still going!

She informed her pre-school principal that she was wearing the wrong color of lipstick! That's just how she rolled.


Her heart is big, sincere and loyal...


She always loved her friends - even if they didn't love her back. She truly wanted to know everyone. Today, I think she DOES know everyone...

She loves her family and is still mothering  her brothers when they let her.






This Girl....

She decided that junior high was boring, so she lobbied to start high school in her 7th grade year. This mama said, "Why not?" She graduated from High School at 16 with honors! Then at 20 graduated from college with a BA.

She never had a curfew. She didn't need it but policed herself. She knew that my ear was ALWAYS ready to listen - and listen I did and do....

This teenage girl would invite all of her gobs of friends over.... we were "the house" and I was "the mom." I should have counted all of the chocolate chip cookies I made for these kids. Some of her friends would come over for cookies, milk and conversation even when she wasn't home! She sure loved them.

Ali has had brushes with death & tragedy...but THIS GIRL is a force to be reckoned with!

Singing the National Anthem
before a college game
This precious baby girl has done more than many people at her age. She has traveled and had great jobs that have put in the most interesting places with interesting people.

This girl decided she wanted to live in New York. This mama said, "Why not?" Ali made it happen and is now living one of her dreams!

She decided she wanted to live in French Canada and learn to speak the language. She made it happen! 

This Girl has turned into my best friend. She has loved, supported and encouraged me through some very difficult times. She can read me like a book.

This mighty little girl is turning 29 tomorrow and I wish I could read her a story and rock her to sleep just one more time. I would kiss the bridge of her nose and softly stroke her eyebrows until she fell asleep.

I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always - as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.

I love this girl "infinity and a google."

I think I will go sit in the rocking chair that I bought right before she was born...









HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO  MY GIRL, Ali Rose!

Ali and Peter at her NYC birthday party
















Friday, September 26, 2014

day one


I found this among all of my unpublished blog drafts.

Interesting timing because I just finished a podcast interview (called, "The Addiction Conversation") with a gentleman named David Cooke who wrote a book called



"Behind the Dumpster: A story of a Son's Addiction, a Father's Love, and a Bike Ride"


I feel like I am on another side of my son's addiction.... the side of peace. I have come to it through a lot of struggle and self reflection. I will write about it soon, but want to share this.

I wrote it almost 3 years ago when he was detoxing at my tiny beach apartment. It was the first day:

Up at 8:00 a.m., quiet until 10 a.m. - then talking nonstop until 9:30 p.m.

There was talking about drugs, their effects on one physically and mentally and spiritually. The changes he was making. How he saw his friends headed ways that he didn't want to end up. How he needed to take suboxone rather than methadone or cold turkey. How alcohol can help with his dopamine levels until he is detoxed. He has not used for 3 weeks, but is still experiencing a lot of aches, pains, sweats. There was talk about God and how he knows that God has never left him and that he knows that he is being prepared for something. Talk about getting more tattoos. Talk about how his personal hygiene has suffered. How he never washed his jeans. How it was so cold where he lived. Talk about things true and things truly bullsh*t. So much talk that I could concentrate on little else.

....but that's what I had hoped for - significant talk in among all the words.

I battled a swarm of ants in the kitchen, got a little work (business) done when he would go outside for a cig, but thought it was more important to listen, listen and listen some more! So I did. I must admit, my eyes glazed over a few times...he DOES talk a lot.... but it was that last segment that made it worth it.

I almost missed it in amongst all the words...but there was a little part in there where he told me it was his fault that two of his good friends died. He had a very close female friend who, in his words, he pulled into his addiction. (She had already been to rehab...so her addiction was all her own.) He has a way about him that people are drawn to and he has always had compassion. Anyway, when he moved to another state a couple of years ago, she was distraught and told him that if he left she would commit suicide. He left for a job. She committed suicide. He blames himself for her death. He cried. He cried himself to sleep. I was there to try to counterbalance his blame with statements like, "It's not your fault." "That wasn't fair for her to make you responsible for something like this." However, I said very little. I caressed his beautiful head with my motherly hand and wiped the tears from his face, told him how sorry I was and cried too.

This is the first time he has sustained any kind of vulnerability and allowed me to comfort him and allowed himself to cry.

What a burden he has to carry.


keywords: addiction, recovery, enabling, suicide, detox, heroin, meth


Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Surprise Ending

I shed some tears today.

I was at work and have the freedom to work and play on my computer. Mostly I work, but sometimes I look at my friends Facebook pages, answer emails, write a blog....

So the trail went like this: I was listening to a friend's podcast online, which led me to look at their Facebook pages and pictures....you know how that goes and one thing leads to another....

And then I saw it.... a happy smiling picture of some of my oldest friends smiling and holding their grandbabies in front of the Christmas tree! They have always been picture perfect, but somehow this time I felt so bad... not begrudging them their joy....but realizing that my tears were that this was how I pictured my life... long marriage, happy life, lots of grandchildren wanting to visit granny.

I had a moment, but then became thankful for my happy life. In the words of Rascall Flatts: "Life's like a novel, with the end ripped out."

And that's okay - because I am getting a surprise ending.


Friday, April 18, 2014

FINISHED

The truth is.... I ache. 


Sometimes it is dull and sometimes it is so sharp I can hardly catch my breath. 

....especially on this Good Friday.


I have a constant conversation/prayer going on with God. Constant. 

It's about a lot of things... but for 27 years with an emphasis on the last 3 - it has been about my firstborn son.

I pray. I cry. I ache... and I ache some more.

I want it to be finished.

I got a text from my sister this morning.


It said, "He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many, he took up the cause of all the black sheep. (Isaiah 53:12 - The Message)
Praying for your little lamb, Andy."

I burst into a river of tears and said, "my son, oh God, my son...." 

And then it hit me....

God knows my ache even more than I do...


His Son was lost too. "He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many..."

And then....it was finished.


GREAT FRIDAY!





Friday, March 21, 2014

"If I have a little brother for you, will you take care of him?"

"If I have a little brother for you, will you take care of him?"


Andrew Slack, age 16
This was a question to which 10 year old Andrew Slack, enthusiastically said "YES!" So on June 1, 1935, he anxiously met his new charge, Jonathan Lee Slack. Little did anyone know how seriously he took this challenge.

....and no one will ever know the weariness of the asker, Ruth Slack, his mother. This was child #5 and smack in the middle of The Great Depression. Her husband, Cornelius Slack, was a hard worker but was crippled by a disease that kept him bedridden for many years. When he could walk, he would go door to door and sell homemade bookmarks with Bible verses stamped on them.

So from the time he was a newborn baby, my father, Andy, knew it was his responsibility to take care of his baby brother....and he did. Even into adulthood and old age, Andy felt that responsibility that had turned into deep brotherly and almost fatherly love. My Uncle Jonny was a daily household word and his name was certainly brought before God as I would hear my dad praying in his room.

Uncle Jonny - 10 years old
I love my Uncle Jonny and wish I could spend just one more time with him when he could remember... but Alzheimer's has stolen so much that it can no longer happen.

Thank you Dad for taking good care of your brother....and your family. I love and miss you every day....even ten years later.