Ain't no cure....

for the summertime blues... Everybody knows that song, right? Or am I just exceptionally old now? Summer is always a mixed blessing for me. I LOVE the time I get off each summer as a teacher, and I've been able to spend that time off with ones I love but don't get to see often enough. But on the other hand, I HATE the heat. I also have a tendency to become a mental and physical slug. I know, big surprise. This summer is no different with the heat and slug thing, and I did go visit family for a while, but I feel like I've missed out on some other things. Two people in particular, I've missed seeing this summer that I see every summer. I just couldn't afford the trip this year. I ended up having to talk to them over the phone and feeling awful that I wasn't there with them. I hung up feeling completely isolated from them both, which to me is a tragedy, because I just don't think they know how much I love them. Pathetic. Someone who's experienced loss like I have should know the importance of expressing love to the ones most important in life. Isn't it funny how we are saddened at the loss of a friend or family member, and we promise ourselves we'll change. We think life is like the movies and in the end we'll realize the error of our ways before it's too late and have a grand reunion and live happily ever after. But life is not like the movies. Sometimes we don't get that second chance. Sometimes we do but take it for granted and forget what's important yet again. I don't want to be that person anymore, but how do I change me? It's easy enough to tell other people what they need to change about themselves and how to do it... but how do I change me?
I've been thinking a lot lately about change. How scary it is when I am choosing it, but how easy it is for me to deal with when it's thrust upon me. Maybe I need to come to the conclusion that I have no choice. I can't allow myself to be afraid. Maybe I need to put myself in a sink or swim situation where I know that I am the only one who can save me. Maybe it's time.... time for what? I'll let you know.

Not ready....

Not bloggin much? Well, not here... In my head, though, constantly. I've got so many posts rolling around in my head, but I haven't typed em out. I wonder why? Probably fear. Fear of what? I don't know. Having people know what's going on in my head or having to face it myself?
I have come to a realization over the past month. I'm ready. I'm ready to do something, anything different. Different job, different state, different people, a different guy in my life. An almost great relationship in my recent past awakened in me a need I'd been suppressing for a long time. It's just not simple enough to put into words, but I guess if I had to it would probably sound a little codependent. ( So you can stop reading now, Niki.) Intimacy warning ==== I need to be wanted. Wanted emotionally, intellectually, wanted physically. A few weeks ago, I was told by a man (for the first time since Kyle's been gone) that I was beautiful. I forgot how incredible those words made me feel. I was not just happy or flattered, but I felt empowered... lovable even. I miss that. And it's not something my friends or family can do for me. I guess what I'm saying is I'm ready for a relationship. I'd consider getting serious if the right one came along. I'm ready to start dating again. God help me!

uneasy....

I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, just the blogosphere. In some ways that may be a good thing. If no one expects me to blog, then they won't check or read my blog and therefore can't be pissy about whatever I say (insert evil 'kiss my rear' laugh here). You ever get caught up in all that you have to do that hours become days become weeks become months? And then you realize you've not gotten anything done at all. Frustration doesn't begin to describe the way I've felt lately. *NEGATIVITY ALERT* It's not just one thing, it's everything. personal, job, family friends, money, you name it. And as usual it'll come to a head and it did just that today. I finally contacted an agent about selling my house. Don't get me wrong, I should've done it a year ago, but today after I did, I realized why I've procrastinated. I felt sick afterwards. I didn't know whether cry, put my head down on the desk and pass out, scream, or curl up in the corner and die. I had no idea I would react in such a way. I tried to call a friend and talk about it, but couldn't bring myself to complain to her about it. She has her own stuff to deal with. I realized on the way home it was the final act. When the house is gone, that chapter is over. OVER. We signed on that house the week we were married, moved in a month later. It's where we lived our life. Some have questioned how I could have walked back into that house in the first place, now I'm having a hard time letting it go.
I'm trying to move on, but it hurts way more that I expected.

My brain hurts....

"My brain hurts" is really an understatement... so does my body and probably the worst of it all, my heart. Let me explain... If you know me well, you know my background...how I was raised by a loving mother who tried to shelter me from the world, but was brow beaten all of her life by ALL of the men in her life, and by an overbearing, mostly depressed, angry father who was determined to 'beat the word of God into me.' Oh, and then there's the best part... my church upbringing.
I'm gonna go at it with both barrels here and just be honest. If I offend anyone, which I'm sure I will, here's a preemptive "Sorry!"
I was raised in the church of Christ, but not just any coC. I was raised by an extremely conservative used-to-be-a-church-of-Christ-preacher father who was and still is extremely legalistic (and to top it off, he's back in preaching school again). I mean there've been times that I thought he could put the Pharisees to shame! Don't get me wrong, I love my dad, and try to be respectful of him, but God's been opening my eyes to so much....
My dad is a product of his raising. His dad was old when he was born, already had 9 kids, was a sharecropper in rural Mississippi, and from what I hear, had quite a temper on him. My grandmother (which is what I was required to call her "Grandmother") was a mother of 8 and was 42 when she gave birth to her youngest, my dad. I never met my grandfather, but I remember my grandmother pretty well. I was 13 when she died, she was 84, I believe. She carried her faith like a cross on her back. She never missed a service. She never missed a gospel meeting. She never broke a law or rule. She never smiled.
My dad thought she hung the moon. She was the Proverbs 31 woman. On her 80th birthday he gave her a bronze plaque that was presented to her for "80 years of virtuous living." It had Proverbs 31 engraved on it. On my 18th birthday, I inherited it along with a letter written by my dad telling me what all I had to live up to.
Well, as you can imagine, I have issues with authority now and church in general. I'm at a stalemate. On one hand, I love God, am actively working on a relationship with Him, I am in an intense Bible study for the first time in years, and in a ministry position of sorts. But I don't wanna go to church. Not just a coC, but any church. I'm heart broken about it. I grew up in church, and I'm required to attend somewhere for my job. I just don't want to.... I think it's because I always leave feeling worse than when I went in.... and then there's that whole going alone thing. I HATE THAT!!!
Wait a minute, this is not what I started this post to say. I was going to talk about change and challenge. My BSF class is kicking my butt. Romans is kicking my butt. How can someone raised in church, a church that preaches Romans constantly, not get this book? It's like I'm reading it for the first time and I'm like, "Wait, it doesn't really say that does it?!" Guess what? It does!
We're at the end of chapter 3 and the beginning of the good part. But it's so much to absorb. I'm trying so hard to wrap my brain around it. I'm enamored and confused. It's so different from what I was taught growing up, and yet there it is in black and white. Faith, not what I do or what I did or what I will do, but just faith, trusting Christ, is my ticket in.

God's not going to hunt me down and smight me for messing up. He's not going to banish me to eternal damnation for forgetting to say I'm sorry for a sin I committed. I for the first time IN MY LIFE do not doubt that when I stand before Him on judgment day, He'll let me in. That's huge for me... That's huge.

Am I the only one that's just now getting this??? More on this later...

Let this day pass....

I couldn't let this day pass without a word... Thanks Niki for reminding me that I never post anymore. I'm using the excuse that life is too crazy. I've been incredibly busy with school starting, moving, moving sales and just life in general. I haven't taken the time to pour my heart out on here lately. I will not apologize, because I've come to realize that my blog is for me and what I need to get off my chest. I appreciate the encouragement I get from my friends here, but that is not the reason I write. I'm practicing a form of therapy here and lately I've been doing okay; atleast I tell myself that I am. But I couldn't let this day pass without a word....

I introduced my pain to a new group of people tonight at my BSF class. I had gone all day without a tear, but surrounded by other Christian women who I know love me without even knowing me, I broke loose and let go. I let them see a glimpse of my pain, and it hurt like new all over again. The good news is I know they'll pray for me. One of the ladies patted me on the back and said simply, "You're so strong." I didn't have the heart to tell her, 'No, I'm just a good faker.' I later realized that I'm neither strong nor a faker. I'm a child of God. He loves me and knows my pain and at times when I'm too weak to stand, too weak to speak out, too weak to even draw a breath, He's there. He stands behind me and picks me up, opens my mouth and breathes his life into me. That, my friends, is strength. Not what I am, but what God is through me.
My misery is my ministry and I pray God continues to touch others through my pain. It's easy for me to seek sympathy, but I'm working on letting God fix my brokenness and showing others his power through "my strength."


Thank you for your prayers, and if you knew Kyle, I thank God that He touched your life through my wonderful husband.

Your Linguistic Profile:

60% General American English

35% Dixie

0% Midwestern

0% Upper Midwestern

0% Yankee

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Happy Anniversary, Hun

My dearest Kyle,
It doesn't seem like it was five years ago that we were married. I can't tell you how often I think back on that day. It was the happiest day of my life. God was giving me the man of my dreams to be my husband. We were so exhausted and ready to get it over with! You know, a lot of couples, especially the bride, get caught up in the wedding. But we managed to keep our focus on the marriage we were about to embark upon. I remember one of my friends asking me as I was putting on my wedding gown, "Are you nervous?" "Absolutely not!" I said. "I just want to get this over, so I can be married already!" We had a beautiful wedding, but that wasn't the point. We both knew what the point was. God had placed us in each other's lives to be man and wife, to be committed only to each other, to complete each other's needs both emotional and physical in a Christian home with all the love our hearts could give. I thank God that we both knew that.
I want you to know that I have no regrets. Of course there were times that one or both of us should've handled things differently, but we communicated well and always made a point to learn from those mistakes. I'm proud of the strong marriage we shared. I'm thankful that God used us in other couple's lives as an example of what marriage could and should be.
I'm proud of the man you were. I still have a hard time not offering your services when someone is in a bind and needing something fixed. I don't think I ever told you how important that was to me. Just knowing that if something went wrong, you'd figure out a way to fix it or make it better than before gave me so much security. I appreciate how strong you were physically, yet so tender and gentle with me. God gave you a beautiful heart with more than enough love for anyone he placed in your path. I believe that's what I miss most - your heart.
I also want to thank you for being patient with me after Momma died. I know how much you loved her, too. And I know there were several months that I wasn't easy to live with, but you stood by me and sometimes behind me to keep me from collapsing under the load I was carrying. Thank you.
I just want you to know how much I love you, still. And even though you've gone on, no matter what happens in my life, or who God brings into it, there will always be a part of my heart that belongs to you.
Love you, see you soon,
Angi