An Open Book with Many Chapters

Anyone who knows me now knows I believe in the power of testimony. The following is an update of an older post called Darkest Days. I’m not going to lie, I’ve got some boney skeletons knocking around in my closet. Much of my life is shared in this blog space, but there are more chapters to come. I am not perfect, but I am honest and open. I’ve lived a lot of life so I have good chapters and bad chapters and chapters where I’ve had to recreate myself. I’ve been accused of sharing too much of being an open book. To some extent that’s true, however, only the people I trust the most get the unedited version of my story.

Photo: Mircosoft Clifpart - a candle burns in the dark
A light unto the darkness

I recently read that experience without sharing leaves no room for growth. Instead, bad experiences turned inward make you bitter and isolated. Wow! Been there, done that, brought home a whole crate of T-shirts. So here I am opening myself up, exposing the dark. I am not a fan of bitter and isolated.

I will be honest, at times I have had an ungrateful heart. I think at one time or another we tend to want things now, instead of later. We ask, “Why me?” or “Will this ever end?” Jumping into a big ole’ pity pool, wallowing in it, and never looking to the future. Sometimes I have to look at where I have been to appreciate what I have now. This is a lesson, I have to remind myself often. 

Everyone has to suffer through hard times and dark periods in their lives. I have often heard it said, “It is not the situation, but how you handle the situation that matters.” I suppose that is true to some extent, but what about those situations that you don’t handle with grace?

In those times, when you don’t make the best decisions, you end up on the wrong side of things. Somehow you make it out alive. Do you hold on to that shame and hurt, hoping no one will ever see the darkness that lives inside you? Are you bitterly ashamed of your past and pray no one will ever know the true you?

That hurt and shame keeps you from being the best version of yourself, you are bogged down in mire of your mind and everything that has gone wrong in your past. But God has created you for more than that, you are not your past, you are not what has happened to you. You are a new creation, it is time to wipe the slate clean, start fresh. We are to learn from our mistakes, not live in them. But, it is so easy to take on that role. 

I am certainly no stranger to dark times. As a matter of fact, if you had asked me in the early 90s where I would be now, my answer would have been, “Dead.” After the death of my young husband when I was 19, I descended a dark and treacherous path.

You see, I had convinced myself that it was my fault, and I felt like those closest to me blamed me and hated me for his death. Beyond that, I convinced myself I didn’t deserve anything or anyone good in my life. I sought out dangerous people and compromising situations. I dated all the wrong people for all the wrong reasons. I just couldn’t buy into the premise that I was worth it, so I treated nice guys horribly and kicked them to the curb. Being abused, became my normal because I thought I deserved it.

I battled with my worth and my past for years. It haunted me. More than once, it almost killed me. I felt alone, isolated, and scared of the person I had become.

I didn’t have the strength to walk away from the things that had beaten me down. It took a series of unfortunate circumstances (isn’t that always the case) for me to seek a counselor. Many see counseling as a sign of weakness. I see it as the strongest moment of my life. It’s where I began to see past the darkness.

I had spent so much time railing at God. Screaming. Crying. Why? Why? Why? For me, coming back to a faith I had lost, saved me physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Everyone wants the quick fix. There isn’t one; there is no pill, no magic bean, and no physical interaction that can take away the pain you try to hide, medicate, or abuse out of view. Counseling takes time and work, hard work. Faith takes believing. God never said life would be easy. He never said bad things wouldn’t happen. By surviving your worst situation, you can encourage someone else. But God can’t use your story unless you are willing to tell it. 

The rest of the story is that 35 years after losing my first love, I lost my greatest love. A person who knew the darkest secrets of my soul and loved me anyway. A person I shared everything with, someone I could be myself with and they could be themselves, a best friend, a lover, and a confidant. Someone who enjoyed being around me and me being around them. It wasn’t perfect, but it was priceless.

The hole he left in my heart, I thought could never be filled. Once again I found myself feeling unworthy, alone, and unloved and making poor choices because I felt there was nothing better for me out there. I had been through it before, I knew the path.

But God puts people on your path, people who speak life and not death, who remind you that you know a better way. People who tell you it is ok to love yourself, that you have worth and a purpose, to make you remember who you are, and why you are here. 

Looking back on my past now, I am more grateful than ever, not only for where I am now but that I made it through. I may not have the nicest house, or drive a new car. I may never find someone who loves and shares everything with me again. But I have love, abundant love. The people who pour into my life love me and care about me. So, I have riches beyond gold and silver. God told me that I am beautifully and wonderfully made and that He loves me in spite of myself.

Isaiah 61:3 (KJV) says this:
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord that he might be glorified.

God gave me beauty from the ashes of my life and gave me joy for my mourning. I exchanged my heavy heart for a garment of praise.

I am no expert and I can’t wave a magic wand and fix problems. If you are hurting, I strongly suggest finding a counselor, someone who won’t try to fix you with a pill. Find someone who will listen and lead you on the right path. Know that you are NEVER alone, God always walks with you, even in the dark times.

Now you know a little about my darkest times and how it has made me grateful for the light. So, will my journey into dark places help you? I hope it does. I don’t believe in beating people over the head with my Bible, I believe in sharing what God brought me through. We don’t have to have the same belief system for someone to see and empathize with what someone else has endured, overcome, and survived. We all need hope. I pray you have hope for a better tomorrow. 

Republished and edited from June 2013.

Building Bridges

Sharing your story can be one of the most powerful tools to cross the divide that seems too vast to navigate. It builds a bridge that crosses the divide and encourages reconciliation. I believe it is the building block of any good relationship. Be intentional. Listen. Treat people with love and respect. I love to hear other people’s stories. I need that in my life. When we share our stories and find commonality we lay that cornerstone for true connection.

So how does my story build a bridge? I think by being vulnerable and sharing you help others. Someone who needs to know they are not alone, someone who needs to know you can overcome. It will resonate with some and not with others. The people it strikes a chord with may have a similar story, or they may have empathy or are just curious about who I am now. I think the Divine Master puts it before the people who need it and those that don’t scroll on by, and that’s ok. I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, you can’t take yourself too seriously.

So here’s a glimpse of my story, I hope it resonates with someone out there.

My younger years were pretty tough, by the time I graduated high school, I had moved 16 times. I lived in a town with no diversity from the time I was 7 until I was 17, I am the illegitimate daughter of a divorcee. I was born in the 1960s before divorce was as common. Coupled with my family issues, my childhood was unstable at best. At times I was considered too good for my raisin’ and other times I was white trash who came from the trailer park. I had a sprinkling of middle class, depending on who I was living with at the time, but those experiences were short-lived. I didn’t have a lot of stability.

Moving all the time as a kid prepared me for life with a military man. My husband served 15 years in the Army. Military life exposed me to a diverse community. The inclusion in the neighborhoods I lived in was beautiful. When spouses deploy, you band together to help each other. Struggle tends to bring people together.

When my husband separated from the Army, we moved to Knoxville. It is now the place I have lived the longest in my entire life. I have been here 21 years. I love it here. When we first moved here I intentionally looked for a community that was diverse. I struggled. I was disheartened. It is said that 11am Sunday is the most segregated time in America. I believe that.

When we moved to our little country house in east Knox County, we visited a black church just down the road, they were so open and welcoming. They showed us so much love. We were “fostered” by a family that now almost 20 years later, still loves me. They have been with me through the good, the bad, and the heartbreaking. There are only a chosen few from my own family that have done that.

Sitting across the kitchen table every Sunday with our newly found “foster family” we shared our stories, who we are, we talked about life, religion, fears, hopes, and dreams. We found we weren’t so different at all.

I found out that poor white food is the same as soul food. I think soul food is a great description of the relationship-building that happens around a kitchen table. It fills your soul in so many ways. Sharing a meal creates a bond. One of the greatest gifts I ever received was when Mama Lee gave me her recipe for mac and cheese. That’s an honor ya’ll. It’s family.

Daddy Lee before he passed away would take my skinny, very white late husband to other churches and introduce him as his son. Both he and my late husband got such a kick out of it. As someone who didn’t have a good family life, this space became sacred. It filled a need that we didn’t even know we had. At Thanksgiving, Easter, Christmas, weddings, and sadly funerals we were always included. They know our story, we know theirs. We built a bridge together in our community. It is a beautiful thing. Even today, I try to spend some quality Sunday time with this family that loves me, even though I am not their blood.

I struggle with the modern church right now, too often I see them building barriers rather than building bridges and it hurts my heart. The church isn’t the only place you can build a bridge. During COVID I think community-built bridges became overgrown and underused and need a little revitalizing. We all need to work on our bridge-building skills.

A study by Michigan State University found that living in isolation can be dangerous for individual health and maintaining diverse relationships is just as important, if not more, than having a large number of relationships. Specifically, we found that individuals with more diverse relationships had a lower risk of mortality and experienced less cognitive and physical decline. Socially isolated adults have a 29 percent higher risk of death compared to those not living alone.

So think about the people you know, do they all look just like you? Do you know people of other ethnicities, other cultures? Do you know people in varying age ranges? Do you know their story? Have you asked? Be observant, ask questions and apologize when you don’t understand something. Be respectful and loving. Be inviting, have lunch with someone new and just get to know them, be genuine, be intentional, and spend some time really listening. You will be amazed at how much you have in common.

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other just as God in Christ also has forgiven you, (Ephesians 4:31-32)

To Thine Ownself Be True

The title is a line from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, act 1 scene 3. I do love a good Willy Shakes play and prose. I also love the wisdom in this quote. Throughout the tumultuous portions of my life, I ignored my own inner voice and wound up worse for it.

To thine ownself be true poster quote

As I strive to become an updated version of myself, I have fallen into familiar patterns from my past long ago. A time when my thoughts weren’t clear and my heart was troubled. Ignoring that small inner voice lead me down a path of self-destruction by overshadowing myself, and leaning into codependent relationships.

Speeding forward, without thinking of the outcomes, was a common theme of my youth. And now, I find myself making those same mistakes. I got carried away, I thought I was older and hopefully wiser, but here I am. I know I can’t do that anymore, even as much as I want to feel young and alive again. I also want to be responsible and secure. Those things seem to be at odds.

I have had to step back, step away, look inward, and ask myself some hard questions about who I am, what I want, and where I want to be in my life. I have to remind myself that there is nothing wrong with finding those answers before I press forward. Romantic love isn’t the goal for my life. That still, small voice inside me says there is more. Am I listening?

Take the time to listen to what that small, still voice is telling you. Quiet all the chatter, all the outside noise, just listen.

It’s uncomfortable, it’s hard to sit in silence and listen. I forget that prayer isn’t supposed to be a one-way street, with me lifting up a litany of needs or wants. God gave me two ears to listen twice as much as I talk for a reason.

What I am finding is the little things that bother me, are telling me something. My soul feels the uncomfortable places down deep and sends up red flags that require my attention.

The things that bother me aren’t the fault of the other person. They are who they are. I am not here to force change on anyone, just as I don’t want anyone to force change on me. Change happens, good or bad, it is inevitable. Who I was 10 years ago is not the person I am today, nor will the person I am in 10 years be the same as today.

What troubles my soul is what steals my joy and by contrast what brings me joy. I have to weigh those costs. I can’t hold close to that which robs my joy. I have fought a hard, lifelong battle to be joyful. I can’t settle for less. I can’t settle for less because someone else wants or needs me to. I can’t settle for less even though it might hurt someone else.

If I settle for less it is hurting me. If I give, and lose myself, what have I gained? I refuse to become a shell of who I am to fit into a mold I don’t want. I won’t do that. I won’t let my joy be stripped away slowly, for anyone. Lifting someone up while you are drowning, doesn’t give you life, in most cases, it drowns both of you.

You may ask, what strips the joy from me? What keeps me from being true to myself? While that list is an ongoing learning curve, I have found that I do it to myself. Most of the time I don’t realize it until much later. As the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20.

It’s that thing I should have said and didn’t because I didn’t want to come off as nagging, bit**y, angry, upset, or whatever.

It is letting things slide, to avoid a tirade or an uncomfortable conversation.

It is not saying what I really mean because I am saving someone’s feelings.

It is knowing something doesn’t feel right and remaining quiet.

It is being something I detest, passive-aggressive.

When I do these things, suddenly I look in the mirror and I don’t like the person I am becoming.

I strive to be a person who is true, and honest, and whole. I need that for myself. I may never get there, but I’m trying. I have gone from being a “we” to just “me.” I think I was good at being a “we.” Now, I have to become good at being a “me.” Finding me. Liking me. Loving me. All those take work. It is not a straight path.

At first, I thought a romantic relationship was what I needed to be valuable. I am finding out I have been valuable all along and I don’t need a relationship to define me or what I want out of life.

It is not about deserving more or wanting more, it’s about being true to who I am and who I want to be. It feels selfish, maybe because I have never made a conscious decision to stand for what I need to feel whole. It’s about maintaining my independence and not defining myself through a relationship. I am finding that I need space.

I have spent much of the last few years feeling invisible. I’ve been longing to be seen, to feel attractive, to connect and feel alive again, to have deep conversations that connect me to a person and make me feel like someone understands. It is a powerful thing when someone listens and connects. I think everyone needs that on some level. I am learning that level doesn’t have to be romantic. I am blessed to have a great tribe of friends and people who love me and pour into my life on so many levels.

Romance is a great and wonderful thing, but it is not what I need right now. And, that’s ok.

A Veterans Day Letter

Ready the Troops

A letter to Sgt. Andrew Foth,

It is hard to grasp that it has been two years since you left your service on this earth for God’s service in heaven.

As I write this it is Veterans Day, 2022. November 11, people around the country are showing gratitude and celebrating with parades and ceremonies, giving honor to those who have served our country. But today, I am honoring your service, not only to our country, for which I am grateful but as a friend, a lover, a husband and so much more that words can’t even describe.

I have so many memories of Veteran’s Days of the past, days during your service, and the days after your 15 years in the Army. I believe that like so many soldiers before, you exited the Army, but the Army never left you. I believe it carried on with you. 

I remember that while you didn’t always agree, you always served with honor. You always cared for those who served under you and served with respect to your superiors, even the difficult ones in ranks above you. 

I remember the countless times TAPS brought tears to your eyes. 

I remember you would talk to and listen to another soldier just because they needed that time, even when you felt you needed to be somewhere else. 

I remember Thanksgiving for soldiers who had no family. 

I remember field exercises where you came home bruised and battered, not because of the training, but because of the wrestling matches or volleyball games that bonded your platoon together. You had everyone’s six. 

I remember your twisted sarcastic sense of humor that lightened the hard times and shed light on things that needed attention. 

I remember the angry, stubborn upset times. Times when it had to be your way, but there were also the soft times when holding my hand made everything better. 

I remember that after exiting the service, you put on a uniform and went to war memorials on Veterans Day to talk with the old-timers in wars before yours.

I remember that whenever you saw someone else who served, you thanked them for their service. I find myself doing this now because of you. 

I remember not so very long ago, visiting the cemetery where your ashes now reside, checking on the graves of those you knew and those you didn’t. And you standing at the flag at half mast and saluting as TAPS played. 

I remember your quiet times when your visions of the past took you to seek peace in a Savior who understood.

I remember. 

I will always remember.

Today, this November 11th, I sit in a cabin overlooking a lake watching it rain. No internet, no cell phone, no TV. Just God and me, talking, listening, writing. Honoring you. Honoring God. Leaning into the still small voice. 

I celebrate your new service because I have no doubt you are serving in God’s Army, readying the troops for what is to come. My vision of Veterans Day forever changed, while I still honor those who serve, I now honor your service with God. 

As I write this I cry cleansing tears. I feel like God is crying along with me as the rain falls on the cabin by the lake. I cry not because I would remove you from your post in heaven, but because I miss you more than words can say. There is no one like you. Your memory and our life together is a part of who I am. The struggles we overcame together made me stronger. Our times apart made me more independent, but also made me appreciate you all the more. The deployments, the permanent changes of station, the packing, the unpacking, the life changes, the friends, the hopes, the dreams, the farewell, they all shaped me. You shaped me. I pray that I can share the memory of you with your daughter and granddaughters and that the memory of you might shape them too. 

God may have another in my future or my time here may require a different focus, I’m not sure. I am ok with that. I am secure in who God created me to be. God’s got me. I am not living in your shadow but remembering the wisdom gained from our lives together. Many won’t understand that. One of the first lessons of our life together, you told me, ”If you had not been through everything in your life, the good, the bad, the heartbreak, the struggles, each decision, each step led you to me.” Now it is time to see where the next step leads. 

God cries with me because He knows my sorrow, He understands my missing you. He understands my anxious heart. He gives me peace, comfort, and amazing joy. He leads my way forward. He sees my future, and even though I am anxious about what may come, He soothes my worries and I am forever thankful for this. 

There is a verse that has been rattling around in my soul and it gives me peace. “Therefore you now have sorrow, but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you.” John 16:22

So as you ready heavenly troops for what is to come, I know you are where God wants you to be. I know God still has work for me here and I do my best to honor that service. We are working on opposite sides of the line for the same cause, moving forward a step at a time.

Until forever,

Me

Bring Your Own Sunshine

Every Monday morning at work we have devotions. It is an hour that starts the week off right by helping all the staff to grow in our love and knowledge of God, to better serve our community.

During these times we are broken up into small groups. I enjoy these small groups and getting to know my coworkers that work in the many other initiatives that serve alongside ours.

Most Mondays I come away with a nugget of wisdom to use throughout my week and my life, but sometimes, a coworker will say something that strikes a chord deep in my soul.

Our study was on the book of James. We were discussing the darkness that can creep into our daily lives during the daily news. What are the messages we listen to? How do we discern what is right or wrong? How do we combat the darkness?

During these questions, my coworker Omar said something that really spoke to my heart. It was about bringing our sunshine with us into the darkness. While I can’t remember it verbatim, the premise of the conversation created a spinning spiral of thoughts.

I thought about that light that God puts within us, and that Omar reminds the students he works with that they have that light. We all need to be reminded that we have that light. The Spirit Christ put within us. When we rely on the heavenly Father, the light He creates in us grows and others can see it. That special Sonshine can be brighter than the noonday sun when we listen to Him and treat others with love.

Another thing that spoke to my soul was when Omar said to beware of the feelings and emotions of others. Without good boundaries and respect, others can rob you of that light within. You don’t want it to get so dark that it overcomes your Sonshine.

How often do we let others break through our boundaries, rob us of our dignity, and break our souls to steal the Sonshine within us? Why do we give people the power to overcome our Sonshine? How do we prevent it? The enemy tries to extinguish that light every chance he gets.

That’s easier said than done. I know too often in my life I didn’t know how to set boundaries, I didn’t want to upset anyone so I allowed myself to be a doormat. I gave other people the power that should have been mine. Our human nature often gets in the way. We forget that light lives within us. That we were all created in His image.

For me it took a huge shift in knowledge, it took someone being kind, someone willing to pour into me and show me my worth. It took years of two steps forward and three steps back and people who didn’t give up on me. It was people showing me the love of Christ rather than telling me about the love of Christ. That is how I learned “Greater is He who is in you than he that is in the world,” (1 John 4:4). He was with every person who poured goodness into me as they walked with me, and He was with me no matter how low I sank. I am thankful every day that God does what I may think is impossible.

Sometimes the simple act of a kind smile, especially to someone who feels unloved and unseen can start a chain reaction. Kindness can be contagious.

I never knew my birth father, but when I was very young my mom told me that when he smiled, he lit up a room. She told me I had his smile and that ability as well. After hearing that, I began to smile more. It made me feel connected to a father I never knew. After I began my walk with a Father who knew me, the smile and the joy grew. I made a conscious decision to find the positive in whatever situation I found myself in.

Believe me, if you know me or have read this blog for a while it’s apparent that there have been many times in my life when smiling seemed impossible. It is my hope that my life shows Joy really does come from the Lord. He has always given me that little ray of Sonshine, just when I needed it most.

So taking Omar’s advice, I am asking you to bring the Sonshine with you wherever you go because there will be times of deep darkness when you need to shine brightly and let others feel the warmth of the Sonshine on their faces.

It is Sonshine that lights up a room with your smile. Spread a little kindness and share it with others. Trust me it makes all the difference in the world.