Perception

It simply amazes me. Women are deeply complex. In some ways that is a beautiful wonder and mystery. Yet those same complexities are the ones that irritate and confuse me. I have faced some of the hardest situations a wife could ever face: drug addictions, alcoholism, infidelity, and death. And now I am out, beyond the pain and walking down the path of my glorious future. Life is good and full of hope. Yet in the midst of it the other night I find myself discouraged about my body image. It's a warped perception to be discouraged over my body image after all I have been through. Not to mention the fact that I'm two sizes smaller, a half marathon runner, in the best shape of my life and not ashamed to wear skinny jeans or leggings.

Why are we women so easily moved by body image? Why is it that no matter how much weight we lose we still don't see our selves every day as the beautiful women we are? Why is it that in the midst of life turning the corner and our dreams becoming a reality. We can find ourselves in a pit of discouragement, when we should be celebrating?

We need to renew our perception. We need to stop viewing ourselves in light of what we want to be, focusing on the short comings instead of what we are and it's beauty! We need to gain gods perspective. While we were still sinners he saw us valuable enough to send his son to die for us. He sees the good in the midst of all the bad. He isn't moved by our weight, our love handles or muffin top. He sees us gorgeous. Why? Because we are. God is not a liar. God sees us beautiful and worthy because we are. God sees us beautiful because we are smart intelligent and amazing creatures. We balance work, motherhood, health, households and personal relationships. We sacrifice ourselves for our children and our husbands. We give life to a baby with in us, carry it for nine months,and nurture them into this world. We are amazing. It doesnt matter if our bathing suit doesn't make us look like a cover model, we are beautiful. When we feel like a rock star, whether or not we look like it, we are beautiful. Change perspective. Don't see your failures, see your successes. Embrace yourself and what makes you amazing!

Public

I purpose to live my life with integrity.  I try to be honest, even when its hard to tell the truth.  I'm grateful I live my life as a woman of her word, because a few weeks ago the last secret became public.  I have been very open about my story, for the most part.  I know that as embarrassing and difficult my experiences in life and in marriage have been, being transparent opens the door for hope.  I didn't choose to be in this situation, but since I am I might as well let as much good come out of it as it can.  So as I am honest and share the truth of the issues in my previous marriage: the drug addictions, alcoholism, and many struggles my late husband had, women in my situation find hope.  I purpose to live my life as a light to the women who are pages behind me in the story life: strong women, who are encompassed by darkness.  This darkness is not self imposed.  This darkness is shed on them by others, and it holds them back, like bars on a jail cell.

But there is one last secret which I didn't share.  I suppose I wasn't ready.  I suppose I still felt a sense of embarrassment, however unnecessary it may be.  I didn't share this last secret out of respect for my children and my late husband.  I'm not one who likes to air people's dirty laundry. While my late husband may not have respected himself, I have always honored him as my husband, in death as much as in life.  I believe that is how God would have it.  I strive to be an honorable women, and so I have tried my best to honor him.  I know I've failed at times.  I called him names, I've shouted at the sky to him.  But I always wanted people to remember him for the good that was in him and not sensationalize his downfalls.

I also didn't share for my children's sake.  I vowed that they would never know, because I didn't want to taint their image of their daddy.  I would tell the occasional person as it seems necessary, but in person only.  I never wanted to put it in print, for fear that they would find it!  And at this point I am still holding to that.  Even though it made its way into print, it wasn't by me.  And though I have been forced to tell my children the truth, it was out of necessity, not of ill intent to dishonor and shame their dad.  Perhaps someday I may write my complete story in a book, but toI even struggle with writing it here.  I have a new life, and I love the freedom of not carrying it with me, not being "the woman who...."  I am not ready to take that step, to publicly share, and associate myself with his final secret, not in that way.  So I will continue to share about the last secret in person only, and in writing generically.

Several weeks ago, the thing I dreaded, the final secret made its way public.  The details surrounding my late husband's life falling apart, that I had guarded for so long, were released in the media.  My life, and personal pain was sensationalized for all to see, simply because its a "good story" and it sells! Looking back I almost laugh because its been so typical in my healing process for me to face everything which I have tried so hard to avoid.  God has brought me full circle to face everything I held as a symbol of pain, everything that I wanted to forget.

Perhaps I couldn't truly move on with skeletons in the closet.  Perhaps I needed to face the pain, for the pain to heal.  I equate it to a broken bone, the kind where the doctor has to break it again so it heals properly.  Thats been my story.  My late husband broke some bones, and in order for me to heal properly and regain full use of my life again, those broken bones must be broken again and reset into place.  It hurt when it happened, and it hurt when I faced it again.  But each time I move past it I feel freer than before.  I feel another chain, another weight taken off of me.  My step and stride is lighter, easier and happier.

I've faced the places I equate with pain, I've faced the people who were instruments of pain, and I've now faced the public humiliation of his actions.  Although I was afraid, and tried to avoid facing it, I'm glad God had me do it.  I trust God enough to let Him guide me through this process, to take my hand and show me all the things I didn't want to see.  I am glad He was there holding my hand.  And now as I walk away, I hold my head up high.  Because I am free!  Nothing has a hold on me.  Nothing has power over me: not a secret, a person, an action, or my past.  I no longer want to define myself, or let others define me by my past experiences.  Taylor Swift sings it best, "Who you are is not where you've been... Your still an innocent."

The Second Time

Today I have been doing a lot of reflecting.  It seems that the further I step into my future the more I understand my past.  As many of you know I was widowed a year and a half ago. I was in the midst of marriage hell.  I married a man, whom I loved dearly, and who loved me, but he was sick. He had personal issues that were beyond repair.  Those personal issues showed up early in our marriage and the longer we were together, the deeper the issues became.  Initially they ate away at the level of interaction, communication and closeness we had.  Then it ate away at our marriage, then our finances, our security, and finally our entire life.  His issues were destroying him, which ultimately was destroying my life.  I was a casualty of his self destruction.

In the past 18 months I have been spending time healing.  I have been praying. I have been crying. I have been discovering who I am. And I've been hoping! I have hoped that someday I would meet a man who will love me the way I long to be loved.  I hoped that I would find a man who would receive the overwhelming love I long to feel for another.  I hoped that my son would receive from God the promise He gave, a new daddy to raise him.  Friends, that day is here! I met an amazing man, and soon we are going to be married!

When I am with him, everything just fits.  It flows. Its natural.  My son and I find comfort in being part of a family that loves and respects each other.  I have realized the fullness of our lives is not in what we have, but who we have to share it with.  God has blessed us! I have felt emptiness and despair.  I have felt a longing to be loved. I have felt rejection. I have longed to give myself to someone and have them receive it with open arms!  God has answered my hopes, He has answered my prayers.  He has shown me that He does take us from glory to glory, and that the latter will be better than the first.  

Since our engagement, I've been reflecting on my love for my fiancé.  Throughout this whole process of growing in love together, I've been comparing.  It feels so different than when I dated and married my late husband.  I am sure no one wants to be compared in such a way, but in all honesty its completely normal and totally unavoidable! We are going to compare.  And the good news is, the more I compare the more my fiancé comes out on top.  I become increasingly aware of the healthy nature, and maturity of our relationship and love.  Its a completely different creature than my past relationship.

I wish I could find the words to express this difference.  Perhaps the best I can say is this love is deep, like the deep love you feel when you have been married for a while.  When I married the first time I didn't really know my husband.  He never really let me know him. He had a wall.  It was bigger than the Berlin Wall, and longer than the Great Wall of China, and it was impenetrable.   He would say to me time and time again that he didn't want to let me in because he was afraid for me to see the real him.  Ironic isn't it? I experienced the worst times of his life, and my love didn't shake.  But still he felt this need to hide behind the wall.  The wall was there when we met, there when we married and there in his final days. It never came down. 

As I think back on our dating days I think about the great effort he made to woo me.  He showered me with roses, and gifts.  He made every effort to be the perfect man.  As my good friend described it, "I had never seen anyone pursue like that."  And all the attention captured me.  He "won" me.  And I fell into what I thought was love.  I'm not saying I didn't ever love him.  With time, I grew into that deep level of love that is what God designed for us to experience.  But that initial love I felt, wasn't deep.  It was surface.  It took time for me to really love him because I had to first experience him.  

Today I realized he pursued in me that way because he couldn't just be himself.  He didn't want to let me fall in love with who he was because he didn't love himself, and feared if I saw the real man I wouldn't love him either.  So he did all the right things externally, a form of smoke and mirrors to place my attention on his actions and how I felt, instead of discovering the man he was.  He said the right things.  He bought me all the gifts.  He put a dozen roses on my car while I was at work.  The whole time I didn't realize the surface level of our relationship, and the wall which I was soon to encounter.

Its odd to be reflecting on my first relationship so much during these exciting days of engagement.  It seems random to be gaining more understanding about the past I am so far away from.  But it is my past which brought me to this place, on the edge of my glorious future.  And by looking back I am only able to hold on tighter to my future.  I realize the depth of love I feel this time is deeper because there are no smoke and mirrors.  My finance isn't saying and doing all the right things to win me over.  He is real.  He is himself 24/7.  He exposes who he really is: the good and the bad.  This time when I fell in love, I fell in love with a man, vulnerable, unguarded and willing to give himself to me completely.  

Love

Several months ago God revealed a very deep and sad aspect of my life I hadn't noticed before: I have never experienced real love.  It was a selah, stop and think about that, moment.  I was 34 and up to that point I had not had a person love me the way God intended.  That's not to say people didn't feel love for me, they have.  My parents love me. My late husband loved me.  But they didn't know how to love me, to show it in a healthy and functional way.  Because I had never experienced a complete and healthy love, real love, I continued to allow people to enter my life who loved me incompletely.  The result was pain.

What followed this realization was a season of God showing me what real love is, so I would know it when it comes.  God loves me so much, He doesn't want me to repeat the past.  He doesn't want me to live a life of unhealthy love.  He wants me to experience real love.  I know how to love, but I have never been loved.  Love and intimacy should be 100% reciprocated. So God began to teach me about love.  He took me on a journey through Song of Solomon and the book of Ruth to show me what real love is.  He showed me not how to love, but how to be loved, what receiving real love from another person looks like.


Love is not only about what I do for them, and how I love them. Its about loving me because of who I am!  If I didn't do one more thing for them would they still love me and treat me the same?

Love desires to hear my voice and see my face.

Love can't stand to be apart from each other and will take extreme measures to be together.

Love isn't moved by your flaws.

Love is aroused, captured and drawn in, it is not flaunted or teased.

Love gives their heart freely.

Love is a close friendship, and value is placed in that friendship.

Love "sees" you and your value.

Love sees you as beautiful and tells you and others.

Love makes you their world.

Love protects you.

Love provides for you.

Love comforts you.


This is how God loves.  God's love is complete, its perfect.  God's love is the example for all to follow.  And once you experience real love, you will never settle for anything less.

Diva Half Marathon

Sometimes in life when you experience a tragedy, or someone you love and trust fails you, you find it hard to find the good in situations, or the good in people. This past weekend however, I was reassured that there are good people out there.  Lots of them.  They may be virtual friends or complete strangers, and even though they don't know you, they care! They will go out of their way to be there for you.  There are good people out there! This weekend they were wearing hot pink, feather boas, and tiaras.  They were the Divas who took on Myrtle Beach!

The first taste of goodness: the RMM
I discovered the Diva Half Marathon from a private Facebook group, the running moms (RMM).  Inspired by the determination of my friend Kelly, I decided to sign up.  I've been part of the RMM for only 10 short months, but this virtual support group full of wisdom for running, and the race of life, have quickly won my heart.  This was going to be a meet-up, moms from around the country coming together to run! I signed up, got air plane tickets and joined some of the mamas in a room.   It was exciting to be going down to South Carolina to finally these women with whom I have shared some of life's most personal issues, and found some of my greatest support.

I flew down with a few local mamas, and the second I stepped off the plane, one of the ladies had overwhelmed me with goodness.  She had rented a car and had already found out where my hotel was in order to drive me there. On top of it she had contacted my roommates (whom I had never met) to make sure that I had a ride to the pasta dinner meet up the next day.  I hadn't taken time to plan any of it out, and mama Candice had taken the time to make sure I was covered.   Candice is proof that There are still good people out there.

The second taste of goodness: Diva runners from Florida

I'm a fairly social gal.  Even as a runner, I'm usually commenting or chatting it up on the race course.  Diva was no different.  Around mile 10 I was feeling the heat, the sun shining on me was tough.  I'm a northern girl and our sun has barely started to shine. Needless to say, most of my training was in the cold, or very least overcast.  So the hot South Carolina sunshine was tiring me out, and fast. I had started taking walk breaks, which I never do.  It was frustrating to me, but thinking about my fatherless son back home, I knew I needed to play it safe.  Pushing myself was fine, but I had to be smart about it.  

I don't remember what comment I said around mile 10, but it sparked the divas from Florida to invite me to join them.  They were doing intervals: running 1 minute, walking 1 minute.  When asked to join, I decided it was probably a good idea.  Those ladies kindness brought me through the last 3miles. They encouraged me, they pushed me, and most importantly they let me walk just enough to keep me going. As we neared the end, about a quarter mile out, where the crowds were, they said, "let's run in!" and I did.  They pushed me and I needed it.  These divas didn't know me, had no vested interest in my life, but they took time to pull me in alongside, challenge and push me. It was just what I needed. The divas from Florida are proof there are good people out there.  

The final taste of goodness: no mama left behind

After finishing the race I started to look for my RMM friends, after reuniting with almost all of them, we noticed my roommate had not yet finished.  We started back along the course to find her.  Not too far out we saw her... surrounded! Several other RMM mamas had already gone back, and here they were running with our caboose!  I jumped onto the course with a few others and cheering our friend along, we ran down the shoot all the way towards to finish line.  Shouts of encouragement were continual and the support was practically tangible.  I stepped off the course to watch my roomie cross the finish line and I wanted to cry.  A group of perfect strangers, united on facebook as mothers who love to run, had just dropped everything to help a fellow mama.  

I can't put into words the experience, and the emotions of watching Kate surrounded by women who hardly knew her, giving their all for her.  They were not willing to cheer her on, or watch her finish, but rather to get on the course with her, running along side her, taking part in her victory to make sure she finished!  Perhaps that's how I can describe the running moms, we aren't spectators, or cheerleaders.  We are in the trenches with each other, whether at a race, or virtually via Facebook.  We help each other in our everyday struggles, we grab arms and run along side.  We make sure that no mama is left behind.  Every mama crosses the finish line and receives her medal!  The mamas who ran with Kate are proof that good people are out there!

I'm grateful for running.  I'm grateful for the divas from florida and the RMM.  After all I have been through: betrayal, deceit, trials and pain, I have found good trustworthy people are NOT the exception, they are the rule. And they are out there!  You just have to open your heart and give them a place to come in.

The River

My life is a river.  I stand on the edge, my toes hanging over the rushing waters.  If I stop long enough to take my focus off the rapids in front of me, and lift up my head, I see a gorgeous green meadow on the other side.  Its the future I hope for, its my own personal happy ending. I want more than anything to get there, but the way looks too hard, too challenging, and a bit scary.  I look around for another way.  There has got to be an easier way, perhaps a bridge which will carry me over the troubled waters. But there isn't.  There is only one path to the other side... through the river.

So I step out, one small step into the edge of the river, and a hand reaches out to me.  Its Jesus.  I was too focused on the challenges ahead that I didn't even see Him standing in the rough waters, stable and steady.  He was waiting, ready to help me walk across.  With His hand in mine I find the courage to take a step. One step at a time I begin my journey to the other side. I slip, I stumble, I get pushed around by the crashing of the waves.  But Jesus isn't moved.  Despite my instability, He is planted solid, like a rock. And He doesn't ever loosen His grip.  As I grab on tighter to Him, my step becomes more firm, and  begin to slip less.  He matches my efforts each step of the way.  And before I know it, we are safe on the banks of the river, no longer being threatened by the rough waters.  We have reached the other side! The meadow! My glorious future is right there before me!

It is then I notice Jesus.  One hand is still holding on to mine, but the other, oddly enough is pointing back.  Why is His attention focused back there? We just conquered together the impossible feat, the last place I want to look is back.  But there it points.  I just arrived, and can only think about relaxing in the meadow.  But His hand points back. And His gaze is intense.  As I look into His eyes I see a sadness I hadn't noticed before.  Just then a tear rolls down His face.  At that moment I muster the courage to look back, for I must know what it is that has moved Jesus to compassion, when it seems we should be celebrating.  I turn my head, and at that moment I am captured with that same compassion He has.  For at the edge of the banks stands a woman, toes hanging over the edge, scared of whats ahead.  She's doing the same thing I was.  Her eyes roam the banks, looking for another way, an easier path.  And the more she looks, the faster tears stream down her face.  I can see it on her face the moment she realizes the only way to the meadow is through the river.

Jesus looks at me, still holding my hand, with a question in his eyes.  He doesn't say a word.  He doesn't have to.  I know exactly what He is thinking.  "So, what are you gonna do?"  I know Jesus won't let go of my hand and go back, so He waits on me.  He will only go where I go.  I look up at the beautiful meadow, the sun shining down on the trees, the flowers in bloom, its seems to be calling my name.  Then I look back at the woman.  I see the clouds above her, I hear the rapids in the river crashing on the rocks.  I remember how hard it was to cross that river.  I remember how Jesus helped me each step, and if I had to have done it alone I may not have made it.  I begin to think about turning back, not for ever, but just for now.  The meadow will be there, and maybe I would enjoy it more if I wasn't alone.  But what about the river? The current, the rocks, the sudden dips in the river bed.  Could I navigate that again?  Seeing the look in the woman's eyes, as fearful as mine were a short time ago, made me realize that I must.  I must go back and help her.

I slowly make my way across the river, and as I head over to help the woman in my shoes, I notice I'm slipping less, my feet are more sure.  As I begin to pay better attention to the dips in the river bed, and where the rocks are, my walk gets easier.  Jesus, still along side me, looks at me with a warm smile.  We reach the edge and we wait.  My eyes are on the woman, but she doesn't see me.  She's too scared to notice. Tears are flowing down her face, and falling right at my feet in the river.  I just wait.  Just as Jesus waited for me. Then she does it.  She steps in the river.  All of a sudden she sees me standing there. Through her tears I can see her relief.  She's still scared, but knowing she doesn't have to go it alone, she grabs my hand.  She looks in my eyes as I softly whisper, "you will get through this.  It may be hard, it may hurt, but you won't be going it alone. I've walked this path you are walking.  Are you ready?"  She nods at me, tears still flowing, and takes the first step.

Deeper

I used to think I had God all figured out.  I used to think I knew so much about Him. I used to think I understood His ways. I used to think.  But the farther I walk with God the more I realize how little I know.  To quote a pastor at my church "all I have learned is how dumb I am."  God is immeasurable.  He is incomprehendable.  He has a depth, height and breadth which cannot be grasped.

The moment we begin to think we have it all figured out, or that we know it all, we need to stop!  We need to stop thinking and start walking with God. As we walk with Him, we experience Him in new ways.  We allow God to show us things we never understood.  We begin to live things we once thought were impossible.  God is so much greater and deeper than our simple minds.  The longer I walk with Him, I realize how much more there is to Him than I realized.

I once thought I had an understanding of His love.  I'm not negating my experience, knowledge or personal understanding I have gained through the year.  But I am continually learning more and more about Him and His love.  I realize even the great depth of understanding I once had, is just a drop compared to the ocean of depth there is to Him.

Think of your marriage.  When you first met your spouse you had a limited knowledge of them.  You only scratched the surface in who they are, their personality and what choices they make.  Then you became engaged.  You dove just a little deeper.  You are no longer walking on the beach, with the water brushing against your feet.  You are now wading in the water, knee deep.  You understand them more.  You see how their past has shaped who they are.  You not only understand their personality but can predict what they need from you because of that personality make up.  You move beyond predicting the decisions they will make to understanding why they make those decisions.

Then you get married, and during your first year together you develop an intimacy.  You finish each other's thoughts and sentences.  You ofter wonder how you ever got along without them.  Now you are waist deep in the ocean.  You know them better than anyone.  But as time continues, you are now swimming in the ocean.  You wonder where they start and you end.  You develop a deeper understanding of how they work and what their needs are.  You often feel like you know them better than they know themselves.  Even now that my late husband is gone, I continue to gain a deeper understanding of him.  I thought when we got married I "knew" him.  Five years into the marriage I thought I had him figured out.  But the longer time passes the more I realize how my understanding of him as a person has grown.

That's how it is with God.  The more we walk with Him, the more time we spend, the more there is to know.  Unlike a spouse, God is not limited.  Just as there seems to be no end to the ocean, its length and depth, as you stand on the shore, there is no end to God. There are so many facets to Him which He desires to reveal to us.  Just because we understand an aspect of Him doesn't mean we understand all that there is.  Just because we know what a verse means, doesn't mean there isn't more to that verse to be revealed. Allow yourself to get lost in God.  Stop thinking, and start walking.