Week of March 15-19 (in honor of a dirty man that I adore & a woman I respect) March 19, 2010

Approximately 3 years ago in a tiny hospital waiting room I saw the man of my dreams, heard him speak, and instantly fell in love.

One of my child-hood friends was delivering her first born on a Sunday night in July, and we were all anxiously awaiting Grace’s arrival when out of the blue Mike Rowe (and a Dirty Jobs marathon) came into my life and three dirty years later, hasn’t left.  Amber’s brother, Corey, had turned the tv to the Discovery channel while we waited. One episode in and I was smitten. It’d be a great love story if I could tell you which episode it was. Alas, I cannot. (Guess that makes it just an OK love story…)

Mike Rowe is the epitome of what I look for in my friends and those I would attempt to date. He is loyal, hard working, roots for the under-dog, humble, witty, smart, and ruggedly handsome. (That last one isn’t a requirement for anything; it is simply the icing on the cake.) If he were a girl, he’s the friend I would call when I needed an honest opinion on which dress to wear to the prom. If I were a man, we’d sit around with a beer or two and trade ridiculous witticisms.

Simply put, he is one helluva guy.

His witty, straight to the point, charming self disarmed me and if I could find a dirty enough job on this campground for him to do, I’d try to get him down here for a taping. Who cares if we’re 20 years apart? What’s a little bit of age??

I try to keep up on the happy-haps in his life, or at least what he puts out there for me to read. I’ve had this picture tucked away, waiting to use it. In honor of his birthday this week and an odd event from last week, I felt it was good timing.

When you go to his website, there are lots of (handsome) images to greet you, but this one caught my eye:

If there is one phrase to sum up my past 3 year life experience, this would be it.

I have long been called out for my perfectionist ways, and so many people will call me a perfectionist and then act like they know me. It’s not that hard to figure out: obsessive-compulsive, type A, anally organized. You’re not a mind reader. You don’t ‘know me’ simply by stating the obvious.

However. A failed marriage + divorce + never having the original, “normal” family unit ever again + having to start over from scratch at an age scarily close to 30 can stop a perfectionist dead in her tracks. (Or at least this one.)

In the beginning, it was hard to let the previous image of myself and my future go. The one that with the husband and the way we met and the fact that we looked cute together … plus my hopes and dreams for my (and our) future, all of which included and needed him … that was hard to grieve and bury. Mike’s caution tape, (if it really existed) is what I would’ve wrapped my life up in, in an effort to self protect.

But just the other week God signaled to me that that phase of my life is over, by way of another chance encounter much like the one with Mr. Rowe: I saw this epitaph on Ruth Graham’s grave and had another ‘stop me dead in my tracks and redirect’ moment, opposite from the one that happened 3 years ago.

The life-changing moment that happened previously made me feel a lot of negative emotions: failure, shame, regret, pain, hate, anger, disillusionment with church-family-life, distrust, despair, hopelessness… (for those of you who think I am dramatizing the emotion involved in divorce, let me simply say that until you have your heart removed, stomped on by the person you love the most and then left there to fend for itself, bite me – and don’t trivialize it because you have no idea.)

While I had let the idea of perfectionism go, reading her epitaph gave me that giant ‘thumbs up’ from God that it’s ok that I’m not perfect. I had originally let the idea of perfectionism go because my situation and circumstance was no longer perfect (even though in reality it had never been). Or I thought I had.

I have this insane drive to be healthy and to do everything right. But the problem is that so often what others tell you is right changes based on who is giving you the opinion. I have struggled in the past three years to be true to myself and at the same time meet the expectations of those around me. And daily I feel like I don’t measure up. I have fought this invisible battle to do what me and Jesus have worked out as being ‘ok’ for my life while listening to people who desired to tell me what is ok for their lives. When those two meshed and we were on the same page, everything was ok. But when I started to deviate from that, the message that got communicated to me was that I was wrong, that my thinking was flawed.

And in reading those few words, on an overcast day, on an outing that started from an inside and slightly irreverent joke, God gently put his arm around me and whispered ‘not only is your situation not perfect, you’re not…and we’re still good. In fact, I like you better that way.’

And just like that, I laid my desires to do it all right, to think all right, and to be all right down at the foot of Ruth Graham’s grave. And I left them there.

And Jesus, in his infinite amount of love for me knew I needed that moment to happen in my life, before I filed for divorce this week. I always thought the freedom I would feel after finally putting a stop to the divorce process would be because I was no longer tied to him. It wasn’t. It came in the form of a moment that had no intention of being spiritual, and it didn’t happen in regards to the marriage – it happened in regards to me.

So here I am, 3 years later. I have been through a helluva lot of emotion, pain, joy, regret, triumph, failure, and success. Thanks to two individuals who could not be any farther apart, Mike Rowe made me feel safe in my imperfection while working it out and Ruth Graham let me see that imperfection is the only attainable perfection in this life; and that both are OK. I feel like I have come full circle; I realized my imperfection was a stumbling block that I have tripped over every day of my life and then realized that my imperfection is what is loved most by those who love me the most.

Thanks Ruthie and Mike. You inadvertently played a part in a broken girl’s quest to be made whole.

Week of January 18-22 January 22, 2010

I have an amazingly great job, with great work and great bosses and I work with great people. It’s all great, great, great.

Well…

Just like any real-life job we’ve had our love spats and our kiss-and-make-up moments. Given the current state of the world, most days I am thankful just for the income it provides…however, I am now looking at an economy in which the cost of living is increasing at a dramatic pace, and my salary isn’t.

When I was married, the “amount of work + economy = less than what is paid” ratio wasn’t ideal but it was OK. As long as there were two incomes and we could pay our bills, we were good.

With the divorce my emotional stress level has been cut in half, and so has my income. I realized that I have been blessed to work at a job where the amount of the paycheck wasn’t an issue. I now have to calculate every penny, and have this constant thought in my mind that I might not have the luxury to stay at this job.

My job has provided emotional security (rest, redemption, healing), learning opportunities, and amazing friendships. But I am now looking at a situation where financial security is a priority, when in the past it’s never been.

I have done the Christian thing of praying, crying, waiting…and that’s where I am. Still waiting. The one thing I know is that I may never feel totally financially secure; but I do need to be financially responsible. I come to work every day and do the best I can, hoping that I’ll have many more days here but not knowing that for certain, because I don’t know for sure that staying is “financially responsible”.

I wrestle with this daily. Most days I feel bloodied and banged up, and walk away from the match still not sure who really won. I have guarded this closely and have gray hair over it, not to mention many “it’s not fair” temper tantrums.

This picture was captured over the weekend, during the Reboot Youth Leaders Retreat. I do a lot of event planning, and the actual event always reminds me why I do what I do.

More than once that weekend I was told “it’s great to see you laughing again”. I guess when I wake up every day fighting the fact that because of the divorce I could be forced to leave the job I love for financial reasons, the light quickly comes on as to why I haven’t laughed in a while.

This picture is horrible of me but caught a brief moment in time where job + life = good. The divorce didn’t matter, I was momentarily at peace, and Pat and I were united in a common goal: mocking Dave for his bowling abilities.

And So the Story Goes December 8, 2009

With school my reading pace has slowed to a crawl. However, this post is the result of reading The Life You’ve Always Wanted, Ortberg (read for school), A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Miller (read for book club), and I Was Told There’d Be Cake, Crosley (read for sanity and FUN).

Sloane Crosley mentions in the first chapter of her book that when you die, your family will come to your house and begin to look through your stuff. She has a secret stash of ponies, and that single idea launched me on a mental quest of the random things that make me, me; like:

An appreciation for Rocky Top, the Statler Brothers, and Dolly Parton: living in Tennessee as a child (I maintain that my iTunes will be more revealing than my house will. I have a very eclectic taste in music)
A love for shoes: Aunt Sharon gave me flip flops as a child and I called them “cooter shoes”
The desire to write: Uncle Norman and Aunt Judy gave me my first journal at the age of 9, complete with lock and key
A love for Reese’s cups: from Aunt Yvonne, shared in the backseat of a 1982 Buick with Megan on a rainy day in Cleveland
A desire to travel: Lee University’s graduation requirement and a month in Europe
My corny sense of humor: Mom & Dad, and all of Mom’s family
A desire to work for the Special Olympics: my childhood next door neighbor, Kevin
A love for the Fletch movie and book series: Justin Lively

However, there are some things that defy explanation, and are just me being me; like:

A love for jewelry: I told mom at age 2 I wanted my ears “perked” (pierced) and had to wait 16 long years to finally do it
A natural inclination to athletics: I’m no good mind you, but nobody else in my family is all that keen on physical activity
A desire to communicate: it’s what I majored in. Nobody in my family has any desire to be on the news
A LOVE for animals: especially odd ones that nobody seems to want. I currently have 3 cats and a dog
A love affair with Chevy Chase and Matlock: I can’t explain either of these…

These things create the character of Tina: the silly things, combined with a lot of deeper things, along with various people and circumstances. The other day, on the way to church my character saw a beautiful tree that had been scalped. I know there is a reason for this, and that it’s to promote growth; however, at first glance it seemed illogical.

I realized in looking at the tree that growth happens every day. While I hate the way that tree looks, by spring it will have new limbs reaching out in new directions. What appears on the surface to have ruined it will in reality be what’s beautiful about it. There will come a point where I pass that tree and won’t even be able to tell that it had limbs growing in any other direction other than the way they are growing.

Donald Miller in his book writes about story, and what that looks like in life. According to Miller, “story involves a character who wants something and goes through conflict to get it”; and that’s where my character is. My character has come through various trials and attacks in the past year and a half. I feel a lot like that tree. I have been cut down to my foundation.

My foundation still consists all of those silly things listed above. However, in the past year and a half I have found myself compulsively purging a lot of stuff. Goodwill loves me; I’ve supplied half of their store. Material things that don’t matter and that aren’t really me are long gone. I’m shedding a lot of dead weight.

Along with the material stuff, I’m getting rid of the emotional and mental baggage I’ve carried. I used to think that my mom’s family didn’t like me as much as they liked Megan. This Thanksgiving, I found that what they love is the real me, not the me I was trying to be for them.

Soren Kierkegaard said “Now, with God’s help, I shall become myself”. This quote reverberates deep within the very fibers of my being. I have found that I’ve been me all along, I’ve just suppressed it. Now, in being cut down to the foundation, the real me is shining through.

If story is a character wanting something and overcoming conflict to get it, then I’ve got a story. I’ve got the character, I’ve got the conflict, and the thing I want is health and holiness. I’m divorcing myself from a lot of unhealthy things, but that’s not quick, nor is it easy.

In spite of the difficulties this time in life has produced, it’s done something marvelous. All of those things that were potentially harmful and that were growing to produce an ugly tree-me have been cut back. Those branches reaching towards the sky in a helter-skelter pattern are gone and now with careful and precise grooming, the beauty that is underneath is what is reaching forth.

Just like that tree standing there with its bad haircut, I’m still standing. I have maintained my foundation, I am more selective on the things and people that come into my life, and I am day by day growing stronger and healthier.

What should’ve destroyed me (a divorce, various people’s opinions, some not-so-wise decisions) have instead been the things to reveal my character and show who I am and who I strive to be. It’s a hard concept to grasp that divorce could in the end be to my benefit.  But Scripture promises that when we allow God to do His thing, whatever that is, and when we obey, He works it all out. It hurts, but it’s worth it. (I’m not blaming the divorce on Jesus; I’ll take my part of the responsibility for the failure and the breakdown.)

Hopefully, this story won’t end. Granted, hopefully it won’t be a divorce the next time God needs to “fix” me; but it will be something else if the desire to be healthy and holy is what I am in pursuit of. Hopefully, I will forever be sensitive to the things that need to change. Like a drawer full of ponies you will hopefully find a lot of lawn and garden equipment, and you’ll be able to say “she found her character, she lived her story”.

Favor October 3, 2009

Well, in the interest of adding more to my already crowded plate, I’ve taken on a side project that is super important to me, and it is here that I’m asking for HELP!

My parents teach the Young Adult Marrieds group at our church. Ironically, that came into existence while I was in the middle of my separation, causing just a few slight issues.

Anywho. This group is comprised of my peers, most of whom I’ve known for the past 20 years. Considering the pain I’ve gone through these past 2 years (I’m now calling that time period my “Get a GRIP Tina” phase), I feel a burden on my heart to address marriage and family; especially as it relates to women, especially since these are some of my closest friends. If I can keep one of them from the pain I’ve felt, that would be a good thing.

Now. Most people would think “WHY would a [almost] divorced woman be the one to address a group of happily married, mid/late 20-yr-olds? She’s not qualified!!”

Well. I would agree and disagree. I’m an odd mix of being just the right person. I know some of what it takes to make a marriage work; and, I know the things you should NEVER do unless you want to toss the M out the window.

They just recently did a study entitled “Wired that Way”, which is probably the closest my parents will get to acknowledging psychology and counseling. That study isn’t my favorite, but I’m choosing to see it as a door that is cracked, even if only somewhat to pursue more studies as they relate to the individual being whole.

I already have a list of things that should be addressed. Some of them build off of the study they just did. I thought about pasting it in below, but I don’t want to lock anyone into a certain way of thinking. The exact reason I’m opening this up is to get varied view points.

I’m asking for anybody and everybody to please submit things that should be addressed in this class.

Things you should know:

• This class is made up of 18-35 year olds
• All attend church on a regular basis, but not everyone was raised in a Christian home
• The number of years married ranges from newly-weds – 6 years (that’s the current longest one going)
• Some have kids, some do not
• Some are career oriented, some stay at home
• If you submit “Love is all you need” I WILL delete your comment. I need practical, real life things.
• Don’t just offer problems. Try to offer the reasons behind them.
• Please only offer suggestions if you are married or divorced. Being single is a totally different class.

I’ve asked two other people so far, and we’ve got a banging list going. I’m excited though to see what other people suggest, and I’m excited at the opportunity to learn along with them, even given my current situation.

I’ll post our list in a week or so and let everyone see what we’ve all come up with.

Thanks everyone!!

Jackals and Wilderness and Angels and Water August 18, 2009

I find it funny how God speaks by throwing books at me from any one of the various shelves in the house. I have re-shelved this paperback time and again; only to find myself daily tripping over it, daily thinking “I thought I put that back where it belongs…”, and daily needing it.

I have another post stemming from the same book as an earlier posting – Gilead by Marilynne Robinson.

“The story of Hagar & Ishmael came to mind while I was praying this morning, and I found a great assurance in it. The story says that it is not only the father of a child who cares for its life, who protects its mother, and it says that even if the mother can’t find a way to provide for it, or herself, provision will be made. At that level it is a story full of comfort. That is how life goes – we send our children into the wilderness. Some of them on the day they are born, it seems, for all the help we can give them. Some of them seem to be a kind of wilderness unto themselves. But there must be angels there, too, and springs of water. Even that wilderness, the very habitation of jackals, is the Lord’s. I need to bear this in mind.”

I’m pretty sure that my wilderness (for now) is a failed marriage and looming divorce. While I am an immensely private person, a lot has happened in the past two years that has caused my private life to be put on display. Therefore, no more pretending. I have no interest in giving a negative impression of anyone I’m associated with, and I don’t feel the need to tell you the details; only to share what I have learned.

While the church excels at a lot, divorce is one giant black/white/gray area where everyone has a different opinion. I’ve heard interpretations of the Bible that both credit and discredit the act of divorce. From me you will get no definitive statement either way; I’m too busy trying to find that spring of water (or at least a cup) and avoid the jackal.

My family is from a stricter denomination than the one I work for. Divorce is of the devil, and divorcees are shunned (even though you “hate the sin, love the sinner”).

After 28 looooong but short years of divorce rhetoric being tossed around, I find myself at a place I somewhat saw coming but thought I could prevent: a failed marriage + strict theological upbringing = HELP!

Enter my professional (Christian) counselor, who I’ve been seeing for two years now. In my last session we wrestled with an ongoing topic: my family and the divorce. He surprised me by saying the following (and I’m paraphrasing):

“K-tina, you are 28. Your parents are no longer a spiritual authority over you. Your decision is one you must be at peace about. Scripture says to leave and cleave – you only fulfilled half of that on your wedding day. You left physically, but stayed mentally and emotionally. You must stand for yourself.”

OUCHY OUCH OUCH! That STILL stings and he most definitely won that round. It’s quite the head trip to come to that place in life where you separate from your parents in every aspect. And he’s right – that was meant to be done when I left their home at the tender (DUMB) age of 23. I didn’t realize that in not separating myself from their thought patterns, emotions, and their walk with Jesus as opposed to mine – I had essentially stayed home. I thought all those years that I was an adult – and in reality they still had full control over me.

Now – that piece goes both ways. They kept the control I allowed them to keep. And it’s here that there is a painful breaking away that is taking place. After an exhaustive conversation in which the 3 of us shared our ideas on divorce we are learning to walk that line of Parent & Adult Child.

I don’t have kids (my 3 fur-covered boys in no way count) so I won’t pretend for a second to know what they are going through. I know their hearts are broken from the pain that we’ve all experienced. I know they would do anything in the world to protect me. And it’s here – that place that is motivated from protection that I respect and love them immensely.

However.

We are painfully cutting the cord and I am sitting smack-dab in the middle of the wilderness. And in my wilderness I am learning how to separate myself from unhealthy mindsets, how to stand on my own, how to ask for advice and hear the wisdom amid the emotion. (HARD!) And it’s here that I’ve seen the provision, the angels, I’ve tasted the water and wrestled with God and it has taught me a lot. Every heart-breaking painful moment & every minute in this wasteland is slowly molding me into the woman I need to become.

While there is responsibility to be taken on both of our parts, I’d just like to say from the child perspective, the following passage is true:

“Abraham’s extreme old age is an important element in both stories, not only because he can hardly hope for more children, not only because the children of old age are unspeakably precious, but also, I think, because any father, particularly an old father, must finally give his child up to the wilderness and trust to the providence of God. It seems almost a cruelty for one generation to beget another when parents can secure so little for their children, so little safety, even in the best circumstances. Great faith is required to give the child up, trusting God to honor the parents’ love for him by assuring that there will indeed be angels in that wilderness.”

Mom and dad – (even though you don’t read my blog) thanks for not wanting me to stray near the wasteland or even see the wilderness. You love me and you protected me – but you can let go now. Yes I’m in the wilderness that I originally never knew existed – but never fear –  Me and big Jesus? We’re OK.