Have you ever found yourself just slightly annoyed? Ever so slightly? And then the more you consider the annoyance, the worse it becomes. I'm sure that there is a biblical lesson in all of this, but right now I'll be honest: I don't want to see it. I want to be mad, and be okay with being mad. I want to be upset with the unfairness of stupid circumstances that seem to trip us up in our marriage whenever we just start running at a decent pace.

I thought I had it figured out, dealt with it (the annoyance), and all was good. Then another detail surfaced that I was not aware of. As my daughter thought aloud, talking more to herself than to me on the drive home, some details that I was not privvy to came to light. I discovered that there were things said that I was not aware of, that I should be aware of--in fact, they are key factors to how well I can run this race called life and marriage. And yes, it annoys me.

I guess it all comes down to what I do with this information. It is laughable at best for me to think for a minute that I can handle this all by my grown up self. I think this is where I crumble to the ground in front of my heavenly Dad, and let him be all that I need. He whispered to me this morning in fact. Know what he said?

"I am enough for you."

I need to stop myself, right now in the midst of all my justification, my rights, my 'knowing I'm right', my pain and hurt and sadness, and say "Yes, Jesus. You are enough for me. You are all that I need. You are my defender. I don't have to defend myself, because you go before me, and you defend me!"

I can see that my enemy doesn't want me to succeed in my marriage. In fact, he uses the same old tools over and over and over, because they work. If I'm going to be smarter than my enemy, I have to get with the One who fights on my behalf.

Huh. I think I know what I need to do.

How to Dance

I saw one of those fwd:fwd:fwd emails today. The thing that caught my eye were the pictures. This little blond-haired cutie, all of maybe five years old, with a big grin on his face. "So what?" you may be thinking. Well, here's the kicker: he didn't have any legs.

This young man obviously didn't mind that he didn't have legs as he had a great pair of prosthetics. a couple of pairs, from what I could tell. Specially made ones for running and sports, and another for day to day stuff that could wear a pair of runners or shoes. Every picture had a smile. He didn't let his obvious disability stop him. He plays hockey, wakeboards, does track and field, and plays golf. More stuff than I've done ever, and I'm .. well, I'm a lot older than he is.

The caption at the top of the pictures reads "You can't do what? Attitude is everything!" As much as it pains me -- and I do realize that depending on the day I'm having-- I can either agree wholeheartedly or thumb my nose at that sentence! Isn't that the way life is? Last week I had a incident in my personal life that rocked me. Lets just say that I was definitely thumbing my nose.

I'm working on changing who I am now into who I'm meant to be. What comes with that is dealing with old habits, and old patterns, and boy I tell you it is a frustrating battle at the best of times. I compared it to cancer in a journal entry to my counsellor. This "emotional cancer" is rampant throughout my mental health. It is woven and tangled into every fiber and thought. It's had twenty plus years to grow and become imbedded into my psyche. If this was a real physical disease, I doubt that the prognosis for my recovery would be good. Hence the reason for me thumbing my nose last week at my issue.

Truth be told, it broke me. I wept. I felt completely helpless. I didn't know what to do with me, or my life, or any of it. Remember the movie Edward Scissorhands? I felt like that; unable to embrace and love because my hands cause wounds and cuts. Honestly speaking, it was brutal. I've managed to move forward, with the support of people around me that are helping me. I'm understanding more with the help of our marriage counsellor. I know that it's going to take stepping into the rough patches and working through the mental garbage to get to the other side.

At the end of the photos of this young boy with no legs is written this quote: "Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain." In all that I continue to walk through in my life, I want to remember this kid. He's dancing, and I'm going to learn how to dance too.

life after bedtime

I should be sleeping. I tried going to bed last night too, and it didn't work. I was up until some unfortunate hour, processing life. I've decided that women eat chocolate because the endorphins in their systems do not get to come out and play as much as they'd like. Chocolate makes a suitable substitute.

On a more serious note, I'm quickly being woken up to the fact that there are many women out there, women I know, that are hurting. But guess what? Nobody knows. We all walk around with how-are-yous, and I'm fine/great/ you? Nobody is taking time to get down to the underbelly of what we are all really feeling.

I had a good visit today with a friend of mine that I haven't connected with for awhile. I discovered that her life is not at all what it could be. She found out the same about me. I found in this friend an amazing strength, and an outlook on life that is incredibly strong. A third lady that we both know was pulled into the conversation, and before you know it, we were all awkwardly wiping tears from our eyes as we let each other see, briefly, who we really are. It was a powerful moment for me.

It's time to quit wearing the masks, reach out to my friends and start some real life conversations.

Well, that's unfortunate.

I realized last night, around 8pm, that my duffle bag was missing. As in not there. Not in the house, not in the vehicle. All my clothes that I packed, two pairs of pj's, and both pillows from my bed, gone. Well now, I thought to myself. That creates a bit of a conundrum.

Several phone calls later I managed to leave a message with the caretakers of the camp where we went scrapbooking. My best guess was that when I kicked it down the stairs from the bedrooms, I left it there. Must have had other stuff on my mind.

Today I got to speak in person with Natasha, the wife of the husband/wife team that take care of the camp. We shared a giggle, and I learned that no, they weren't coming into town today, but could have their friend bring it in tomorrow, and I could arrange pick up with him. No thanks, I said. I had the afternoon off work, so I would be able to drive out and get it.

It was a good time to rethink all the stuff that was running through my head. God and I had a long conversation, about Jane and I, and our friendship. He challenged me in my marriage to my husband, to take some steps that I wouldn't normally consider.

Tonight while listening to a cd of mixed music, the words from "Praise You in this Storm" by Casting Crowns hit me like a ton of bricks. It goes like this: I barely hear You whisper through the rain/"I'm with you"... I broke down and wept.

I guess we figure that we have to take on this life all by our grown-up selves. We can do it. We're strong, capable women who are forging onward and forward, taking on stuff and trying to carry things that are way too big for us. In that one line, God shouted to me, I'M WITH YOU. He gets it. He feels it. He's there. For every aching piece of my heart that wants to have what I cannot, He understands. He knows how scared I am to try to forge some kind of connection with my husband, for fear of hurt and all that past emotional garbage that likes to surface.

I'm reminded of that verse in the Bible that talks about how good it is to have a friend, so that when you stumble, you don't fall, because your friend is there to help you up. God understands, and is holding my hand, right at this very minute.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, things are really piling up.

I'm back here for the first time in 2 years, I figured. I quite stumbled on that date by accident, while going through my scrapbook bag to find some such oddity like a Barbie sticker or something birthday related. I'm making birthday scrapbooks for my girls. But that's besides the point. I found old photos from the last retreat we attended together. The LAST one. Funny, do you ever think that what your doing right now might be the last time you actually do that thing? Back to the date. It was 2007, and I believe it was the fall retreat.

We always scrapbooked together out here. Me and her. Her and I. Which one is it, and do you really care if I use proper grammar? Let's see, since 2004 I think? No, I think she came out once before then, in '03. I had moved here from the south. Actually, we lived in the center of the province, but moved north. She asked me if i was going to the ladies retreat at a bible camp south of where I live now, and I said no, but I was going to a scrapbook retreat with my new consultant at a bible camp that is relatively close to my home. She came up then, to join me. It was tradition ever since.

This is my first time back in 2 years, and she's not with me. Odd, yes. Heartbreaking, yes. Did I cry? Oh yeah. People asked me, "Where's Jane? Is she not coming with you?" My consultant, who knows the real deal, came to me in private, and filled me in that another lady was asking after Jane. "I think Karen told her that Jane is in university, and couldn't make it. Just so you know." Bless her for filling me in. Still, it makes me sad.

Jane and I aren't friends anymore. I broke it off with her this spring, for good. At the time it was easy, and I knew that God was calling me to end a friendship that was too much for me. Details aren't important. God knows and he asked me to do this, so I did. I had some confessions to make after that, and that wasn't so easy. Like telling my husband that yeah, I loved my bff way more than I loved him. That I realized that my relationship with her was damaging my marriage to him, so I had to end my friendship. He understood, and said that it made sense. Still, one of the hardest things I've had to do. Confessing sins is tough stuff.

Isn't life ironic? I am sleeping in the first room we ever shared together, Jane and I. I realized that shortly after my friend and I unloaded our gear last night. Maybe this is so that I can bring closure to my end-of-friendship thing. I cried just before sleep whisked me off. It is bittersweet, being here.

It's not the same. I don't think it will ever be.

how does this work?

Hey, Molly here. Just trying out this new blog site. I do post on another blog, and it's a wee bit different than this. I'm not sure what I think of this yet, so I thought, why not try a mini post to bore the readers, and I'll see if I can google myself and find this. Sounds like a good time!
Stay tuned for more real life episodes in the life of me.