Falling in Love…again

We’d been down this path before.

The falling in love stage, picturing your life together. The glimpses of who you might become if everything worked out. Seeing the day to day and feeling that rising excitement of “I can DO this” as you realize you LIKE the person you could be, that you LIKE the whole idea.

And then it comes crashing down. The pain of “what could have been” and the feeling that you would never feel that way again. The lethargy that steals over your body when someone says, “There’s plenty more out there” and you have to bite back the response of, “But not like THAT one” because no one truly understands. Oh they say they do, but deep down you’re sure that this was different, though it’s too much work to explain or even figure out just how it was.

Yet you have to eventually reach out again. Life moves on, deadlines (self imposed or otherwise) demand that you start considering that there might be other possibilities after all. Except you find you’re not searching out the same thing again. You’ve changed somehow and your needs seem somehow different. The love is slower this time, a little more cautious, a lot more “should I” before you take that plunge.

So we do it again. Pick up the phone and say, “Yes, let’s make an offer on the house.” Then sit back and wait with crossed fingers and fear, remembering how you were outbid last time. Trying to tell yourself that it’s ok if you don’t make it this time around either. Only…THIS house is different. That slow love seems deeper and you realize that the first one had been a passing fancy, a whole lot of ‘what if’ while here…here is where you could actually be HOME.

 Oh please let this one be Home.

This is the beginning of our adventure. One step at a time, changing our lives, all of our lives in great big scary ways. We’re not dreaming anymore, but wide-awake and living our lives, for the first time in years.

They took the offer. There is no sure thing as we’ve learned…there is still an inspection to pass. We still need to actually GET the loan that we pre-qualified for. Like falling in love you go on a whole lot of faith, in each other, in the future. No sure things there either.

But Wow, imagine what it will be if it all works out. Imagine WHO I’ll be when I step through that door again….

The thought is heady and pushes us onwards.

We’re coming home.

Is this it?

W is for….Waiting

I can’t believe we’re at the end of the month. I’m a few days behind but overall I’m pleased with my progress. I didn’t lag too horribly and will finish out on the first days of May.

Around here we’re waiting on Spring. In Colorado that’s an iffy sort of prospect. We’ve had snow every week this month and are expecting another snowstorm this Wednesday. But my lilac bush tells me that sooner or later this will be over.

On the other hand the thing we’re really waiting for is rain. We need it so bad! For the last two years we’ve been in a drought. This year we already have water restrictions and I’m worried that some of our trees don’t look like they’re coming back at all.

Just about every day threatening clouds roll in during the afternoons. This is what we used to think of as monsoons – hard fast storms that dumped all kinds of rain on us. But the clouds keep on moving without giving us so much as a drop. The weatherman says the rain IS falling, only it evaporates before it reaches the ground.

In a way I hope it DOES snow again on Wednesday. We need the moisture.

Oh what I would give for a good old-fashioned thunderstorm about now!

L is for…Life

Years ago I could have been accused of going through the motions. Every morning I woke up, went to work, came home, watched TV, went to bed. The next day was more of the same. The odd day off was reserved for errands. Library. Shopping. Reading. Maybe seeing a movie.

Then I got married and traded that life for…more of the same. Except my day involved waking up, taking care of babies and then toddlers with the TV blaring in the background. Errands, teaching, Church every Sunday, and never enough sleep, never enough LIFE.

I was a Zombie.

I blamed it on the motherhood. After all, who had time or even more important, ENERGY, for anything else.

This constant routine, the blur of days, the passage of years eroded me as surely as wind upon a rock. I was lacking meaning, and as a result I found out just how far down a person could travel emotionally. Cutting, watching the blood well up on my skin scared me enough to look for meaning wherever I could find it. Nights filled with fatigue and too much time alone left me as a seeker online, falling in and out of relationships. Cheating, sex, adultery. Name it what you will but this frantic burst of motion was no more living than endless hours in front of the television and ended in suicidal fantasy followed by suicidal action…

Yeah, not my best time.

After coming to the startling realization that you can hit bottom not just once, but it’s a place you can visit time and again if you’re not careful, if you’re not alive enough to even CARE, I knew something had to change.

Starting with me.

A lot of prayer was involved. A lot of time of reading the Bible, and screaming to God why didn’t HE just fix things and I felt the first glimmerings of life. I really didn’t want to die deep down, so much as I wanted the meaningless monotony to end, I wanted to feel…alive. No. I wanted to BE alive.

Counseling pointed me in the right directions. I began to pray daily to ask God my direction. To show me where I could find my myself. Where I could perhaps…minister. The answer came in Written World Communications.

Oh it wasn’t easy. Living after being dead inside so long never is. And the scars…not just the ones upon my arms, but the ones upon my heart, upon my soul would take years to heal.

But oh it felt good to be ALIVE.

At this point I’ve spent four years trying to build something, to do something that MATTERS. To reach out to writers and give them voice, give them platform, give them LIFE because I know how it feels to be silenced. Yet it’s a struggle. Every single day. The money issues are horrendous (we’ve put $67,000 into this so far…every penny a miracle) and the spiritual toll is worse.

Don’t ever let anyone ever tell you that the field of Christian publishing doesn’t bring down a storm of spiritual warfare on a daily basis.

My health has suffered.

But inside…inside I’m alive.

It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. It’s a fight every day to continue. But I’m not going to give up just yet.

Life…is too precious for that.