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Showing posts from 2017

D-Day and the Shame of a Situation

Throughout this whole process I have questioned myself. I have questioned my actions, my response, the things I should say, the perspective I should take. I have wondered if I should write about it, and if so, with how much detail. I have questioned because I wanted to figure out the “right” thing to do.  But I had no guide, no map, no precedent to follow. After all, I am a Christian and we do not talk about these things, let alone let them happen to us.   So a few days ago when I listened to a relatively transformative podcast by Rob Bell, I finally was able to take a breath and realize. . . I don’t actually need a map. I am the committee.   I can question what is “supposed” to happen or what everyone else thinks I should do, but really, I don’t need a committee to make my decisions for me. I am the committee and I can make those decisions for myself.   So, a few days ago was the anti-climatic “D-day,” the day my not-husband went to court to get the judge to sign o

For the Love of Love

Today, on Christmas Eve, I sat in church and I felt the emotion of the Christmas story in a deeper way than I ever have before. Every song gave me chills, the scripture made me teary. I was overwhelmed. For here is a true fact: I love love.  Maybe it is because I now know that true love is such a rare and amazing thing, but any time I see or experience real love I feel the greatest joy. I love seeing my friends happy in their marriages or engagements, I love seeing families having fun together, I love how my grandparents care for one another. I absolutely rejoice when I see acts of love. It gives me life to see other people's joy. My therapist recently explained God's love in a way I hadn't imagined before, with an imagery that spoke to me: The short version of the Genesis story is that once there was the garden and everything was perfect, but we chose sin and had to leave. In that moment, God could have said, " Good luck out there, in the imperfect, diffi

The Debut of Meredith 2.0

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Last night I went to a wedding and debuted Meredith 2.0. Actually it is probably version 563.7 but we will say 2.0 just for simplicity sake. As a matter of fact, it was one of my "kids" (read: high school students that I used to mentor) that threw some wisdom at me the other day and impacted my decision to embrace the newer, better, brighter future. I was lamenting about a picture I had lost that had him and some of the other kids in it when he texted me, "They're all good memories but sometimes we have to. . . look forward to better memories." I know. Tell me about it. I "raised" good teenagers. As 2017 comes to a close I could easily sit around and wallow in what was and what could have been, but really that isn't too productive. The much better alternative is to put on my favorite sparkly shoes and a great dress and walk into a group of people with my head held high, my heart full of excitement for what is to come, and my feet full of fan

Christmas Wishes for Existential Things

I want my skin to be thick enough for nothing to hurt.  If only my heart was full enough that it no longer ached when I think of what was, what could have been, what is ending. I wish that my armor could shield me from the pain, the twisting arrow, the thoughts that I can't stop thinking. I wish that I did not care, that his ghost did not have the power to make me feel so broken. I want to forget the bad and forget the good. I want to stop loving someone who doesn't deserve my love. I want to go back and change my fate, my decisions, my trusting heart that told me to lay it all out for a person that would take it all and then walk away. I want to be as carefree and happy as he seems, instead of worrying that people will discount me for my story. I want to believe that all is well and all shall be well. I want to be stronger than the mess. But here is the truth: There is no strength that could keep this from penetrating my defenses. My heart is bound to beat wi

What Six Months Looks Like

Overcoming is a weird thing. You simultaneously want to move along, to forget the bad thing that happened, to be free of the person that hurt you. . . and yet to fully move on and let go brings on an anxiety that is undeniable.  Love is a weird thing. Someone can do the worst to you, beyond what you ever imagined, so much so that you hate every single piece of them. You want to scrub your skin raw, rip up every picture and trace of them, destroy every piece of life that they ever touched. And at the same time, almost against your will, you still love them, still wish they were there for the important moments, still wish things had turned out differently.  Growing up is a weird thing.  It never turns out quite like we imagined it would.  Six months ago my life turned on its head when my husband decided he no longer loved me. Five months ago he left me to be with the woman he had chosen instead and filed for divorce without a single shred of remorse. Our marriage, what ha

A Journey through the Darkness

The first time I walked in to meet my counselor a few months ago I felt fragile and uncertain. It was like I had aged a million years and the softest wind would blow me to dust. I was more concerned for his soul than what had been done to me because caring about him was easier than coming to terms with the truth of how he had wronged me.  I was desperately clutching at whatever I could to make sense of it all.  I was stronger than two months before, but there was still a desperation in my eyes that quietly feared what had been and what was to come. For a long time I didn't believe a day would ever come when sadness did not consume me.  But I learned tools to move through the darkness. I learned how to breathe, to ground myself, to relax. I learned to come to terms with my grief, my anger, my questioning. I cried, broken over a sense of guilt that I could have done better. I leaned into every emotion and I let myself feel them all. And then gradually I began to feel li

Finding Joy In Sorrow

I remember the first time I felt joy in my sorrow.  It had been months without it, though I hadn’t quite realized it had been so absent until the moment it blossomed just ever so slightly from my soul again.  I was sitting at my favorite Thai restaurant in Pasadena with a friend I had not seen in years. We had almost miraculously reconnected while I was in town and we sat for hours reminiscing on the good, the tough, and the great moments from our grad school years. We talked about what was going on in our lives now and I shared my story, still raw and full of emotion and pain, shedding tears, encouragement, and honesty.  Before we knew it hours had passed and I realized that something special had happened but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. As I tried to explain to my friend what a gift they had given me that evening, all of a sudden it dawned on me- it was the first time I had been truly happy in months.  It had been the first time that I laughed without aband

When Stuff Gets Worse. . .

You know that saying about rock bottom? Yea. That doesn't apply to my life. "The only place you can go is up!" That silver lining seriously is not cutting it for me at this point. More like, "Surprise! You thought it was rock bottom but shit just gets worse!" Again, and again, and again. It has officially been five months of really hard stuff. Its been a rough four years but man, these five months have taken the cake. I have been betrayed so many times and it seems that right when I get my footing again I get kicked back down into the dirt. I do not say it lightly when I tell you that the devil has been out to kill me. I don't know what you believe about good and evil but I believe that we are in a battle- a serious spiritual battle, not a figurative one. I think that the forces of good and evil are battling it out for the world, and though I believe that God (the ultimate good) will win in the end (and has already claimed that victory through the d

I Am Worthy

Quite a while back my community group in Arizona was sharing our stories of faith. I opened up and shared, through teary eyes, about the voice I had been hearing in my head that was telling me it would be better off if I died. I’ve written a little bit about that before and how scary it was to hear such a convincing voice.  The next day our community group leader, Brian, came by the office where I was working.   “I’ve been thinking about what you shared with us last night,” he said. “Now, I am not a prophet or anything, but I just feel like God wants me to tell you that that voice you heard was not for you .”   At the time, I was skeptical. The voice had been convincing and I knew I was struggling through depression, but I continued to listen.   “I think you heard that voice so that you will understand,” he continued. “I think God wants you to understand what your kids [on the reservation] go through, what people who are in that kind of pain hear and feel. But I feel s

A Glimpse of a Moment

My heart song is poetry I think. Its lame, I know. But when I am truly deep within an emotion, I pick up my phone or my pen to express it and it always comes out in poetry. So I roll with it. Grief and loss, betrayal- it all requires a lot of different emotions as we process. Things felt in one moment may be the opposite of things felt in the next. It is all important and always valid. So here is a little poetry from the other night when I could not sleep and I could not see the beauty in the pain. Here is a glimpse into what my heart sometimes feels when I breathe in the solitude and I hate every part of this stupid rebuilding (my life, my trust, my self) process. **If poetry makes you cringe and think of high school english class, don't be intimidated or skip over this one. Poetry is just a paragraph with weird spacing and capital letters. I believe in you.** Shattered Shaky Bordering on the line between I'm ok and I can't do this today. My skin is but a thin

I Will Overcome

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My soul needs the mountains to breathe. The mountains are where I can think clearly, where I can put one foot in front of the other and grow stronger emotionally, mentally, and physically. They are where God speaks to me and where I find the space to hear Him, where I can sit by a rushing stream with my brother and we can listen to our surroundings and be at peace. So this past weekend I went backpacking with my brother in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It is a fact that a weekend in the fresh air, by mountain streams and without access to phone service, is more healing to me in this season than most anything. I will admit that I went into the weekend angry. I was/am so angry at my husband for what he has done to me, for the ways he has betrayed me. I started hiking and I couldn't shake the bad thoughts. My therapist says it would be less normal if I wasn't angry, so I gave myself permission to be mad. But as I continued up the mountain I reminded mys

The Optimistic Shadow

Have you ever had those days where you just don't feel ok? Sometimes weeks pass. Weeks pass and nothing seems to get better. But the last shred of optimism clings to you like a shadow. Eventually there must be a corner. There must be a step that leads to a new horizon. Surely peace is just a few steps away from the pain. This idea gives you the kind of hope that makes you feel like you can breathe again. Surely a new horizon will cause the bad feelings to peel away as a snake sheds its skin and make you new. Surely , the optimistic shadow whispers with a push, you must keep walking to the corner.  So you walk. And you walk. And you walk. But that corner never seems to come. There are other corners turned but they all seem to lead back to the same place and the shadow of despair looms large. People join your walk for a little while, but they don't understand what moves your feet, they don't know for what you search. Eventually they go off on walks of their own an

Having Nothing to Do is a Very Hard Thing to Do

I'm tired. I am tired of this season, of feeling down, of waiting for something good to happen or for the next chapter to begin. I am tired of wondering and questioning, of not sleeping enough and sleeping too much. I am tired of not knowing what I am supposed to be doing and I am tired, mainly, of being still. When I was in Arizona I had it all- a house, a husband, 2 dogs, a job, teenagers to care for, and mountains to hike. I had purpose. I had people to take care of, to feed, to clothe. In fact, for the last four years in Arizona my whole life has been about pouring into others. I was caring for teenagers, friends, my husband, and yes, even my dogs. And then all of a sudden, I have none of that. Not even one little ounce of it. All gone. All stripped violently from my arms in a story that is too long to tell you right now and too fresh for even me to fully understand. I went from having everything to having nothing. I had a life and now I have a blank space before me that

The Ebb and Flow of Grief

August 7th: 12:21am If there was an ocean out my back door I would walk right into it and let myself sink. The weight of this sadness would lead me straight to the depths and it would make no difference. For I am already there, in the depths of the darkness, in the pit of death surrounded only by the bones of those gone before me. I cannot feel the light within me. My arms are weak, my legs unstable. Piece by piece I shut down until what is left is just the shell of me. Consumed by fire I am just ash and dust. Yet I still have to walk, and breathe, and pretend that I am truly alive. But life is no longer in me. Nor hope or joy. I am but dry bones and I am forgotten.  There have been a lot of days in this process when my journal has looked like the entry above. Strength in hard times is a many faceted thing and sometimes, it just isn't there. A lot of people have told me to feel whatever I feel in the moment, to let myself process. For me this means writing it down. I have alwa

To Share our Pain

I think that it is a stupid symptom of our society that we think we need to hide our pain from each other. We think that no one else wants to hear it or perhaps that they will not love us anymore if we show them. We think that their life is probably perfect. That's ridiculous.  God's love is shown in mighty ways when we trust each other with our pain. There is so much healing in vulnerability. But it is not an easy task. My confidence has been shaken. I apologize for everything. Anything that maybe I possibly did wrong at one point in time, I now apologize for. Because I feel bad. And I worry that I have done wrong by people that I love. Its a twisted symptom of the situation. I have lost my confidence. It is temporary but it is difficult. Temporary.  I think of my life as a tapestry. It is made up of threads. "Time heals," they say. I believe that, but only because I believe that with time, more threads will be added to my story. What has happened in the

My Current Thoughts on Hard Times

Here is the thing about pain: It's shitty. There is no going about it and making it seem ok. It isn't. Pain and hurt and fear are unfortunately real parts of this world and they are hard to escape. I'm not pleased about my hard times right now, I am not "making the best of things" and I am processing daily what has happened. But here is what I know so far: I get it. To the person who has cuts on their arms, I get it. To the person who thinks the only way out of the pain is death, I hear you. To the person who cannot get out of bed because it is too painful to face the day, I understand. When grief produces nausea so intense that you cannot eat for days even if you wanted to, I know what that is like. I feel you, I hear you, but there are so many reasons not to give up. For all of the bad there is so much good. For all of the sad moments, there are also beautiful ones. I may not have cuts or scars but I know how you feel . Grief comes for all sorts of reas

What's Love Got to Do With It?

I have been thinking for the past few days about love. I always thought I understood what love is. This powerful word that we say so easily and so easily claim. I thought that I understood love, but recently I have questioned: what does love actually look like? What is love in action ? What happens when I quit just saying the word and I start living a life of selfless love? __________ When I was single, I would try to gain the affections of some or another guy. My desire was not that they would let me love them , but that if I worked hard enough then they would love me back. It was a selfish desire, not a selfless one. And the trend of my singleness, I believe, is common. We so easily get easily swayed into a selfish love without even realizing it. We do things to please the other person, hoping that it will in turn make them love us more. We serve our husband or wife in the name of love, but we are actually hoping to get something in return. It masks itself as true love, but r

The Truth about Ministry and Depression

*Disclaimer: This post was written one year ago , almost to the day. I did not post it then for fear that it was too vulnerable, but I feel like I need to post it now. Too many people give into depression and suicide because we don't talk about it. I hope that this experience will give someone else hope that they are not alone, and that maybe they will, like me, take steps towards healing. If you (whether I know you or not) ever need someone to talk to, please contact me. We need each other in this world, and no one should feel the depths of pain alone.* Written: May 2016 I've debated on whether I write about this too much. I've debated that maybe I don't write about this enough. So if it sounds like you've read it before, feel free to move on. If not, stick around. Probably this post is more for me than you anyways. To start with, I think there is this misconception that if you are single you can work more because you don't have a family. This is dumb. J

The Relentless Burden of Relaxation (sarcasm intended)

I spent last week laying on a beach in Mexico thanks to the extreme generosity of a good friend. It's ok to be jealous, it was pretty awesome. The funny thing was that even though we were in a little piece of paradise, Cameron and I could not figure out how to relax for the life of us. You see, our vacations are generally active vacations. We pick places where we can hike every morning, or go to museums and do some sightseeing. This vacation, though, was different. In this location of Mexico there was absolutely nothing to do except lay on the beach, or lay by the pool, or read on the patio while overlooking the ocean. Yea, rough life. So the first day Cameron and I did all of the obligatory laying around and reading and by the end of the day we were totally freaking out. "We might have to leave early," Cameron said. " I don't think I can do this for 4 more days." "Yea, who knew that being lazy would be so difficult!!" It was such a weird

The Flowing Words that will Not Be Stopped

I miss the words that used to flow like ocean waves from my fingertips.  Like the tides they would present themselves.  They were reliable, they were my lifeline.  And then so much changed and I think I could barely figure out myself let alone the words to express it.  I lost myself somewhere.  I lost the words that were so precious to me and I curled up into the shell that I had created and decided that the world was bleak and I was better off cutting myself loose.  To produce words would mean to process and I did not want to process. Processing can mean pain, and my little shell was comfortable and dark, but manageable.  Processing was not manageable.  So the words packed themselves into a box and decided not to bother me. Since I was rather snappy it was probably better for them anyways.  But despite my resistance the words kept pressing against the tips of my fingers, begging to be written. Maybe my identity was a little bit lost, maybe my purpose uncertain an