What a Difference a Year Makes.....

I'm guessing I'm not the only one who has days where I feel edgy, even to the point of being frantic for no apparent reason. It's an over-arching anxiety that makes even the smallest, most mundane tasks barely manageable.

Today I woke up with that pit in my stomach and generalized dread about simply getting dressed and eating breakfast. It came as a surprise because yesterday was a wonderful day and the day before that was great and the day before that fun filled, etc.  I vaguely remember feeling scared each morning most of my life---like every day of my life before my mid-twenties. I ignored it and masked it with hyper-activity. I pushed it away and tried to smother it. I tried eating it too.

None of those approaches were effective. So I sought help. What I learned over time was that for me, knowing what I'm fearful about helps me tremendously.

Why the dread for today?

Before my feet hit the floor, I determined I had two tasks that must be crossed off the list today:
1. Get Annie Beth ready for her first day of 5th grade.
2. Write and post a blog for Gay.

Both of those events produced some anxiety.
1.  I've always had jitters before new school years, as a student and now as a mother. I can easily talk my way out of the anxious feelings because of truths and experience, though. Annie Beth doesn't want summer to end. However, she loves school and she adores her teacher. She had the same teacher in second grade. For me? I know that the first hour of school days can be rough; but, I'm on my own until 2:50 each day. No anxiety in that for me. Nope school jitters wasn't the problem.

2. Writing a post on Gay's blog? Aside from wondering if I could do justice to articulating what being in a healthy friendship/relationship is like? No worries.

Only because of help from Gay and others.....I've learned that if that free-floating anxiety isn't about this day or an impending day ahead, I best look backwards. I'm a firm believer that our history informs our future.

I've been aware the last month of certain markers of how stressful this period was last year. I've been jarred by pictures on my phone-pictures of me in suits that would be forwarded to a jury consultant for purchase approval. Last week I was driving past the family courthouse en route to another place in Denton. Without thought, I pulled into the parking lot and parked my van. I was sweating and felt nauseous. Realizing my mistake, relief couldn't possibly scratch the surface of my core feeling. I've noticed also that I'm spending far too much time on Pinterest. I credit Pinterest for helping me maintain some moments of sanity during the trial last year.

The trial.

Of course. Today marks the one year anniversary of the beginning of the most stressful week of my life to date. My divorce trial began on Monday a year ago. A jury would be selected to decide the custody of my only child. By the end of the trial, I'd have information that would impact the remainder of many people's lives. Most of that outcome I had very little, if any control over.

I wish I could tell you that once I recognized the significance, the panic and anxiety subsided--washed away with the epiphany. The truth is that I am still filled with dread and fear. I'm writing mostly to remind myself of what I know today that I didn't know last year or at least I know in a more powerful way this year.

I know that the trial was last year and it's over. This is now. I am contentedly divorced and living in a new reality.

Breathing better.

I know that God  loves me. When He promised that He would never leave me or forsake me, He wasn't lying. I've never experienced more of His presence than during that week last year. Many actual moments are a hazy blur and some I don't even remember when reminded. But, I will never forget knowing that I was being loved and upheld by God Almighty. He made Himself evident in so many ways. Some because His people on earth were constantly reminding me that I was not alone and that they were praying for me and with me.

I know that God is faithful. When He promised that He would take care of me and of my child, He wasn't lying. I know also that Annie Beth has a relationship with her father that she did not have prior to my filing for divorce in 2009. I believe God's faithfulness is heavily involved here. Annie Beth has a mother and a father that love her.

I know that I am strong. I did not lie or offer deceit as part of my story. I maintained dignity and did not pander to the lowest common denominator in my marriage or in my divorce process.

I know today that my internal strength can be channeled to my physical body. My physical body is stronger now that it has ever been. I've been working out faithfully for over six months and I am transforming how my body looks and functions. I can have a healthy body and not resort to crazy eating disordered living of the past.

I know that my life has purpose and meaning beyond being a wife and a mother. I am no longer a wife and I have value and worth. Today, I'm more aware of my this than I ever was as a wife. I am still a mother. I know that I can be very sad and miss my child's daily presence in my world, even on Christmas and birthdays. The sun will rise again in the East. Communication is easier and there are methods to fill in lonely gaps for both parent and child. I also am learning early that I cannot possibly control the outcome of her life. I am learning that her choices and many, if not most circumstances will be beyond my control. I know that I can have very good days without her presence. I am delighted that she has many, many wonderful days when I am not there to see or hear about them.

I am blessed beyond measure to have parents that love me unconditionally and friends that I claim as family. I treasure and nurture relationships with those I love because it matters. People live for eternity and I want to invest heavily in this side of that endless time.

I know that God will be faithful to me in my new adventures. He won't saw off the limb and watch me fall for sport. I may feel afraid and doubt; but to mark God's faithfulness by my feelings is a poor measuring method.

Is my anxiety gone now? No. It's there. It is, however, being crowded out by the good things I know.  I'm making a choice, even at day's end to say, Life is far too important to sit frozen by fear. I choose life today. Even though I may not know what tomorrow may bring, I know that I'm loved and that I can offer love fully and freely to others. That is enough. I am enough.

Hubbard's Response

I heard from several of y'all to post the conversation between me and Gay. Here it is below. I wasn't quite sure how she would respond. I knew it would be humble, funny, and grace-filled. How blessed I am to be loved by Gay. 

PS. I have no idea how to reformat this and my hair is covered with #5 natural brown foam color and I'm not gonna take the time to remind myself that I'm old and not as savvy as I wish. Isn't the fact that I'm re-coloring every 4 weeks enough punishment for aging? 

I'm behind on my blog too....Have several ideas churning in my mind. My kitchen remodel has been a source of ideas and LOTS of interruptions. 

Life is good and I'm blessed beyond measure. ~lori

SUNDAY, AUGUST 12, 2012

Ah, Schucks

August 12, 2012

Dear friends,

H-m-m. Now what to say?

After reading Lori’s guest blog, I was, as she anticipated, embarrassed. More seriously, in this culture of political bombast and calculated exaggeration, I was concerned that you might view this exchange writing as an obvious bid on my part to elicit kind things from Lori so that I might do an artful “Ah, shucks,” and further burnish my ‘humble’ image.

However, my sense of humor promptly rescued me from any serious worry about the issue. Anyone who knows me personally and has risked relationship with me knows all too well the limitations with which I live. The ashes of my mistakes and failures, to borrow Lori’s fine phrase, have blown all too frequently into everyone’s eyes for anyone to have illusions of anything other than the flawed ordinary humanness that lies at the core of my unspectacular life.

But the way in which Lori reports the good things that have emerged from our years-long relationship raises an important question. How is it that the plain ordinary practice of simple relational skills has yielded such rich dividends?

I never tire of the story of the little boy who brought his lunch to Jesus—five little barley loaves and two small fish. Such an ordinary lunch—barley loaves paired with two ordinary fish.

In “Just a Housewife” the boy’s mother wonders about that lunch:

           I packed five cakes of bread and two small fishes,
           Sent him off, my youngest lad,
          To take his father’s dinner to the field.

          Came back alone he did, all goggle-eyed.

          My fresh-baked bread that varmint gave away
          To some young travelling preacher out of Galilee.

          It fed five thousand people.
          What a tale!

         It can’t be true. . . but if it is,
        What kind of dough did these hands knead
        This morning?

                                         -Cordelia Baker-Pearce

It was, of course, plain ordinary dough, no magic yeast.

But—and this is the point, that, like the boy’s mother, we often confuse—plain dough placed in His hands was more than enough—five thousand fed, and a great amount left over.

I am deeply blessed, friend Lori, to know that our relationship over the years has blessed you. It has, and continues, to bless me deeply as well.

But I am thinking tonight about the quiet miracle we share. We each bring plain bread that is transformed into more than enough by something other than human skill.

See you next week.

Gay