When God is preparing you for something, He usually puts your through some tough training. When He knows that the battle will intensify and you might find yourself sinking in the waves, He takes you out there a few days (or weeks) before the battle to get you familiar with the terrain and the pressure. He is a general that wants His soldiers 500% ready for battle. I just came out of another period of basic training. God wanted my faith stronger and my walk with Him deeper.
I woke up one morning and everything seemed against me. There was nothing obviously going on. I could just feel it. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. My family was in a crisis and everyone was turning on the other. Fingers were being pointed. What had happened was a break down in communication and when that happens nothing but disaster can result. My children felt alone and neglected. Why? Because we were running here and there and always on the phone or with people. They did not feel like they were important to us. Normally, I would say that we need to just pull back and discuss it all. But instead, everything went into chaos central.
Too much had been pent up and it exploded. As fingers pointed deep issues rose to the surface. What sent me into the desert? A feeling of desertion and abandonment. I honestly felt like God was abandoning me. I had worked solid for 16 years and sometimes took on two jobs to pay the bills and put my husband through school and allow him time to work for God. When I thought that I was to achieve the dream to spend more time at home and pursuing some of my own dreams including going back to school, every door kept slamming against me. Not just slamming. It was ricocheting. Why couldn't I achieve any of my dreams?
Ok, I had published a book but it seemed to be going nowhere. I was new to this marketing thing. I have trouble bragging about my own things. When I sat down to write, everyone demanded my attention. We had agreed that I would have specific quiet time each day to do some writing and Bible study. I could not get anyone to remember that. Another one of my dreams is to go back to school for history and/or religious studies and then teach. I am a learner at heart and I crave it. I cannot find it much around here. Most people I know don't care. They are not driven to learn. Why was this part of my desert?
I had to go back to work for a few weeks to help make ends meet. Back into the accounting world. The blessing in this besides the check is that I work for a great couple of Christians and the environment is nothing that the corporate world has ever offered me. But then my husband got an online teaching job and is teaching. Wait! That was my dream. I wanted to do that. What is up, God? Why can't I get there? What is stopping me? I went straight into a major funk.
My husband could not understand at first that I was feeling like a complete failure. I couldn't do anything right. Where was the confirmations I needed that I was doing what God wanted me to do? Was I totally on the wrong path? Looked like it. It took several days before we were both calm enough to talk and I had the energy to do so. The depression was huge.
Only then could I get him and my children to understand what was happening. I felt that I was useless and nothing mattered. My life was to be spent making money for them and doing whatever they asked of me. My
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
This Birthday is for my Father
Just one more year and I'll be the big 40. I'm not ashamed of it nor scared of it. I'm proud of it.
This year was great because for the first time I had friends who just wanted to let me know that they care. I had a great party, beautiful gifts, and sneaky friends who booked a hotel room for my husband and I to escape to. It has been great. But there is something slightly missing. My dad's off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday".
I was born at 8:30 at night. From the time I left for college and was usually away from home on my birthday, my father and mother would call me at exactly 8:30pm. He would begin singing and I would laugh. He couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
My 32nd birthday rolled around and the call did not come and the singing was now for God. Each birthday has been hard since then as I see the clock strike me another year older and I miss his voice. This has made each March 7th hard for me.
Most people would think that holidays and Father's Day would be hard for me. But they do not effect me that much. It is my birthday and his (my daughter was born on his birthday) that brings out the selfish tears of missing him.
I cannot stand when people trumpet their birthday weeks before it actually occurs. So many demand attention on that day. Me? I would rather it be forgotten. I take this day to remember my Dad and remember the lessons he taught me and to honor him.
He was a great man. Oh, he had faults. Many of them frustrated us like nobody's business. But he had a heart. If there was somebody in need, he tried to meet it. He would feed more people who were holding the sign "Will work for food" on the side of the road than you could imagine. He made sure the minister at his church was taken care of. He was a deacon who took the job seriously.
Dad valued education. He wanted to make sure that each of his children received a good education and made something of their lives. We've done pretty good. All of us have received our degrees and are able to stand on our own two feet.
Dad raised us in the church. He made sure that we learned basic Bible truths and was able to watch us all become a part of a church home and raise our children in the Word.
What more could a father ask for? I hope that each time I stand on the Word, teach my children, and look for those in need that I honor my father as well as our Father.
Dad, I would love to be where you are - at the feet of Jesus. But until then I will strive to continue down the path you directed me. I want to take the good you gave and continue giving. Dad, thank you for the horrible birthday songs and the love you gave. Thank you for the generosity and teachings that you gave. May our actions and our love honor you throughout our lives and even generations later.
This year was great because for the first time I had friends who just wanted to let me know that they care. I had a great party, beautiful gifts, and sneaky friends who booked a hotel room for my husband and I to escape to. It has been great. But there is something slightly missing. My dad's off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday".
I was born at 8:30 at night. From the time I left for college and was usually away from home on my birthday, my father and mother would call me at exactly 8:30pm. He would begin singing and I would laugh. He couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
My 32nd birthday rolled around and the call did not come and the singing was now for God. Each birthday has been hard since then as I see the clock strike me another year older and I miss his voice. This has made each March 7th hard for me.
Most people would think that holidays and Father's Day would be hard for me. But they do not effect me that much. It is my birthday and his (my daughter was born on his birthday) that brings out the selfish tears of missing him.
I cannot stand when people trumpet their birthday weeks before it actually occurs. So many demand attention on that day. Me? I would rather it be forgotten. I take this day to remember my Dad and remember the lessons he taught me and to honor him.
He was a great man. Oh, he had faults. Many of them frustrated us like nobody's business. But he had a heart. If there was somebody in need, he tried to meet it. He would feed more people who were holding the sign "Will work for food" on the side of the road than you could imagine. He made sure the minister at his church was taken care of. He was a deacon who took the job seriously.
Dad valued education. He wanted to make sure that each of his children received a good education and made something of their lives. We've done pretty good. All of us have received our degrees and are able to stand on our own two feet.
Dad raised us in the church. He made sure that we learned basic Bible truths and was able to watch us all become a part of a church home and raise our children in the Word.
What more could a father ask for? I hope that each time I stand on the Word, teach my children, and look for those in need that I honor my father as well as our Father.
Dad, I would love to be where you are - at the feet of Jesus. But until then I will strive to continue down the path you directed me. I want to take the good you gave and continue giving. Dad, thank you for the horrible birthday songs and the love you gave. Thank you for the generosity and teachings that you gave. May our actions and our love honor you throughout our lives and even generations later.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
How Selfish We Are
I think that we all can agree that human nature gravitates toward being selfish extremely easy. The last couple of days has made me realize how deep that selfishness is and how most people do not want to change.
The phone rings and rings. My husband tells me that it is the same person who has called about eight times already today. Why? Every time they have a single thought about something, they have to call and share. Whenever they get upset over anything no matter how small it is, they have to call. In fact, if he does not answer immediately each and every time, they go ballistic. When they see us again, they begin loudly asking why we never answer the phone and that they needed us. Problem is they think they own us.
I've noticed more and more how people are selfish about the attention they get. If they want to talk to you right now, it has to be right now. They do not care that you are in the ER with your child. It does not matter to them that you are in a meeting at work. All they care about is that they want you now. That is all they see.
Why are we like that? Why do we think that we are the only people on earth who matter? How horribly selfish we are!
The scenario that I have described might sound extreme and could only be the rare situation. Let me count the ones in my own life that is like that.... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 15..... Shall I go on? They are family members, friends, neighbors, and coworkers.
I began to look at myself and my selfish acts. I do not tend to go the route of calling someone all the time and demanding their attention. I'm more selfish in my time. Why? Because I never get any and have to fight for it. But in the end I can be very selfish there. I want my time. I want the day planned my way. Ouch! Those stinking verses from James just hit me in the head. See how selfish I can be?
I remember the phrase, "God puts sandpaper in your life to smooth your rough edges." I guess I have a lot of edges to smooth :)
The phone rings and rings. My husband tells me that it is the same person who has called about eight times already today. Why? Every time they have a single thought about something, they have to call and share. Whenever they get upset over anything no matter how small it is, they have to call. In fact, if he does not answer immediately each and every time, they go ballistic. When they see us again, they begin loudly asking why we never answer the phone and that they needed us. Problem is they think they own us.
I've noticed more and more how people are selfish about the attention they get. If they want to talk to you right now, it has to be right now. They do not care that you are in the ER with your child. It does not matter to them that you are in a meeting at work. All they care about is that they want you now. That is all they see.
Why are we like that? Why do we think that we are the only people on earth who matter? How horribly selfish we are!
The scenario that I have described might sound extreme and could only be the rare situation. Let me count the ones in my own life that is like that.... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 15..... Shall I go on? They are family members, friends, neighbors, and coworkers.
I began to look at myself and my selfish acts. I do not tend to go the route of calling someone all the time and demanding their attention. I'm more selfish in my time. Why? Because I never get any and have to fight for it. But in the end I can be very selfish there. I want my time. I want the day planned my way. Ouch! Those stinking verses from James just hit me in the head. See how selfish I can be?
I remember the phrase, "God puts sandpaper in your life to smooth your rough edges." I guess I have a lot of edges to smooth :)
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Teamwork is not a Myth
I had a wonderful opportunity to watch one of my son's basketball tournaments. Now, these were a group of fifth grade boys from various schools in the district. Most of them had played together a few times over the last few years and knew each other well on the court. In watching most of the teams, the predominant attitude was win- win. They coaches, the players, and the parents were all about winning. I was honored to witness something deeper.
One of the boys on the team would not be called the most gifted player. He began playing three years ago and fought being over weight. In addition to that he had been diagnosed ODD (Oppositional Defiance Disorder) which means that he could fly off the handle at any moment and flatten someone. His temper was horrible. Whenever he was on the court, he was benched and sometimes kicked out of the game due to his temper.
The next year he almost did not come back to play, but did. The other players tried to work with and the coach began to use a few strategies. Something clicked. The young boy began to really try to keep calm and work with his team mates. Most players would keep the ball from him and try to keep him off the court. These boys did not. They kept giving him the ball hoping that he would make the basket. All year long they did that.
This was the third year. They were in their last game of the tournament and the ball ended up in the young boy's hands. He just threw it up and with the most beautiful grace it fell right through the net. The stands erupted as everyone rose to their feet to scream the boy's name. The excitement was not for the team as much as it was for the boy who got his first basket. His teammates did not chase the ball back down the court. Instead, they ran up to him and jumped on him with excitement. It was not a matter of winning. It was a matter of supporting their teammate. As he came back down the court a grin was spread across his face.
Yes, I was proud of that boy for making the basket, but I was more proud of the other players for making it as important to them as it was to him. They were one entity and played as a team. I get frustrated as I watch adults act so selfish in work, the store, the family, and even the church. What we could learn from some children on a basketball team! It is not about us! It goes so much further than that.
One of the boys on the team would not be called the most gifted player. He began playing three years ago and fought being over weight. In addition to that he had been diagnosed ODD (Oppositional Defiance Disorder) which means that he could fly off the handle at any moment and flatten someone. His temper was horrible. Whenever he was on the court, he was benched and sometimes kicked out of the game due to his temper.
The next year he almost did not come back to play, but did. The other players tried to work with and the coach began to use a few strategies. Something clicked. The young boy began to really try to keep calm and work with his team mates. Most players would keep the ball from him and try to keep him off the court. These boys did not. They kept giving him the ball hoping that he would make the basket. All year long they did that.
This was the third year. They were in their last game of the tournament and the ball ended up in the young boy's hands. He just threw it up and with the most beautiful grace it fell right through the net. The stands erupted as everyone rose to their feet to scream the boy's name. The excitement was not for the team as much as it was for the boy who got his first basket. His teammates did not chase the ball back down the court. Instead, they ran up to him and jumped on him with excitement. It was not a matter of winning. It was a matter of supporting their teammate. As he came back down the court a grin was spread across his face.
Yes, I was proud of that boy for making the basket, but I was more proud of the other players for making it as important to them as it was to him. They were one entity and played as a team. I get frustrated as I watch adults act so selfish in work, the store, the family, and even the church. What we could learn from some children on a basketball team! It is not about us! It goes so much further than that.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Givingt More to Him
I had a unique situation recently. Have you ever had a situation in which you were put into a position that you felt totally unqualified for? That was me multiple times this past week.
I have several dear friends who are very mature Christians. They know scripture a million times better than me. They have more religious education than me. When they start talking I listen because I will learn. One of them came to me with a spiritual problem and I did not know what to do.
Here I was the person that usually goes to them and they were coming to me. I didn’t know what to say. My mind was spinning. I was not prepared for this. I was not educated enough for this. I felt like an idiot. They needed something from me and I had nothing to give. I just sat there. When I spoke, I felt foolish.
God is not a haphazard god. He knows exactly what He is doing. He knew I would be in that position, and He had equipped me for that scenario. I just was not prepared. I had not put on my armor and gone through my drills. I was the one who failed. He more than did His part.
What did I do wrong? My prayers were not there. I was not praying for God’s wisdom to come through me mouth. I was just panicking. My trust was being placed in myself which was a huge mistake. I knew that I should not do that, but in my shock to find myself in this position I turned to my human nature instead of leaning totally on God.
Here I am a minister’s wife and I stumble to counsel! Why? Because I looked at this person as being above me spiritually. I knew they had problems and concerns. I knew they had faults. Trust me, I know that no person is perfect or has it easy in this world. But when those that are more educated than me turn to me, I stumble. I am not expecting it. I don’t have enough faith in where I stand.
The solution? More time with God. That is the only answer. I need to pray more. I need to study more. I need to trust Him more. Overall I need Him more.
I am getting back into my in depth personal time with Him. I’m making the time. Life took over for awhile, but I’m giving it back to Him one moment at a time.
I have several dear friends who are very mature Christians. They know scripture a million times better than me. They have more religious education than me. When they start talking I listen because I will learn. One of them came to me with a spiritual problem and I did not know what to do.
Here I was the person that usually goes to them and they were coming to me. I didn’t know what to say. My mind was spinning. I was not prepared for this. I was not educated enough for this. I felt like an idiot. They needed something from me and I had nothing to give. I just sat there. When I spoke, I felt foolish.
God is not a haphazard god. He knows exactly what He is doing. He knew I would be in that position, and He had equipped me for that scenario. I just was not prepared. I had not put on my armor and gone through my drills. I was the one who failed. He more than did His part.
What did I do wrong? My prayers were not there. I was not praying for God’s wisdom to come through me mouth. I was just panicking. My trust was being placed in myself which was a huge mistake. I knew that I should not do that, but in my shock to find myself in this position I turned to my human nature instead of leaning totally on God.
Here I am a minister’s wife and I stumble to counsel! Why? Because I looked at this person as being above me spiritually. I knew they had problems and concerns. I knew they had faults. Trust me, I know that no person is perfect or has it easy in this world. But when those that are more educated than me turn to me, I stumble. I am not expecting it. I don’t have enough faith in where I stand.
The solution? More time with God. That is the only answer. I need to pray more. I need to study more. I need to trust Him more. Overall I need Him more.
I am getting back into my in depth personal time with Him. I’m making the time. Life took over for awhile, but I’m giving it back to Him one moment at a time.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Learning to Put My Trust in God
I have talked about the lessons I have been learning over the last few days. They are many and like many lessons they are painful. I’ve learned how to open doors that have been fearfully closed. I also learned when to close doors. Some are meant to be.
Because of my past with many of my “best” friends, I do not usually bring someone in to be very close. They always turn on me and the next thing I know when I need them they are talking behind my back or decide that my faults are too many. Why continue to be hurt like that?
About five years ago, I began a new job and met a girl in the department that would become the best friend I ever had. She was like the sister I never really had. We shared so much: our dreams, our past, our pain. Then one day, my heart was ripped apart. She decided that she never wanted to talk to me again. Her reasoning? There was disappointment in my voice because she had started smoking again. She tried so hard to quit and I was disappointed. I was so confused. Was I supposed to be happy? I was there for her. Sometimes it takes multiple times before someone is successful. Then more came out.
She lashed out at me and said that I had more important things in life than her and I should focus on them. I was not to call her again. What?!? I was so confused. We were soul sisters. If she really knew me, she would know that I was not like that. Her smoking was not a reason to end a friendship. If I felt that way about smoking, I would disown many friends and a few family members. I hung up the phone crying harder than I had in years. I later texted her and told her that I would abide by her wishes, but that I was still here for her.
Once I got over many of the fears of using Facebook, I decided to see if she was out there. I found her. I took a chance to request her as a friend. The pain of it all healed this past summer. But I had to offer the olive branch. Maybe she wanted to reach out but was scared or ashamed. I did it and waited a few days for her reply.
It was a denial. She refused me as a friend. A tear rolled down my cheek. This door was to be closed. I don’t know what I did. When asked she had told me that it was the disappointment in my voice that ended the friendship. I tried to mend a bridge and discovered that the gorge was now an abyss.
This was one door that needs to be closed. I still care for her. She was a wonderful friend. I wish her well in life. I wish that she has a great life. But I will move forward with fond memories and memories that teach a few lessons.
People will always let you down. I cannot put my faith in them. But I can learn from them and accept them as they are.
Because of my past with many of my “best” friends, I do not usually bring someone in to be very close. They always turn on me and the next thing I know when I need them they are talking behind my back or decide that my faults are too many. Why continue to be hurt like that?
About five years ago, I began a new job and met a girl in the department that would become the best friend I ever had. She was like the sister I never really had. We shared so much: our dreams, our past, our pain. Then one day, my heart was ripped apart. She decided that she never wanted to talk to me again. Her reasoning? There was disappointment in my voice because she had started smoking again. She tried so hard to quit and I was disappointed. I was so confused. Was I supposed to be happy? I was there for her. Sometimes it takes multiple times before someone is successful. Then more came out.
She lashed out at me and said that I had more important things in life than her and I should focus on them. I was not to call her again. What?!? I was so confused. We were soul sisters. If she really knew me, she would know that I was not like that. Her smoking was not a reason to end a friendship. If I felt that way about smoking, I would disown many friends and a few family members. I hung up the phone crying harder than I had in years. I later texted her and told her that I would abide by her wishes, but that I was still here for her.
Once I got over many of the fears of using Facebook, I decided to see if she was out there. I found her. I took a chance to request her as a friend. The pain of it all healed this past summer. But I had to offer the olive branch. Maybe she wanted to reach out but was scared or ashamed. I did it and waited a few days for her reply.
It was a denial. She refused me as a friend. A tear rolled down my cheek. This door was to be closed. I don’t know what I did. When asked she had told me that it was the disappointment in my voice that ended the friendship. I tried to mend a bridge and discovered that the gorge was now an abyss.
This was one door that needs to be closed. I still care for her. She was a wonderful friend. I wish her well in life. I wish that she has a great life. But I will move forward with fond memories and memories that teach a few lessons.
People will always let you down. I cannot put my faith in them. But I can learn from them and accept them as they are.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Lessons From Facebook
I’m one to let doors stay close. When I move forward, I try not to look back. Too many times it is the painful memories that are the most powerful. It has been that way throughout my life. I move forward. Staying in the past is too much. When I signed onto Facebook, the past came back and with it memories.
I ventured into Facebook because of the book I had published. I had been told that getting myself and the book out there was to network. OK. I can do that. I was scared, but I could give it try. I began with family and a few friends. I held back venturing much further. But the past always beckons us.
I couldn’t help it. It was the year of my high school’s twentieth reunion. No one from high school knew where I was. My best friends had disappeared off the face of the earth and no one from my graduating class knew my married name. I had kept that door closed. But temptation and downright curiosity got the best of me. I started looking for high school friends.
When I found them, I just looked at their names. Too many memories surfaced. There were many good ones. There were many that tore at my heart. Fear, humiliation, and loneliness filled me. So much of who we are happens in our teenage years. The drama that unfolds creates the adults we are today.
I was always an introvert. Any stranger that spoke to me received a bent head with a beat red face. I hated crowds and new people. I trusted easily. I wore my heart on my sleeve. In many ways this is still me. I still hate meeting new people and would love to crawl under a table and hope no one sees me. I have to rack my brain what to say to people because I know that I have to find the right words because mine will never do. I am suspicious of people because trusting even those closest to me has resulted only in betrayal. I still wear my heart on my sleeve and hurt easily. Why? Because I found that most people mean what they say and have daggers buried in their words and actions. Why go through all this again and bring up the girl who cried so much? Because she had not healed.
The first person I befriended was a boy…… Let’s stop there. He is no longer a boy. We are almost forty years old. We have grown up. I need to stop looking at them all in that way. They are men and women now.
To get back to it – I found a man who I had the hardest and longest crush on. I fell for him in ninth grade and never got over him through the next few years. We were not meant to be anything put friends over those four years. I always appreciated that. I was a plain Jane. He was cute and flirtatious. Because he spoke to me others were less likely to make fun of me. I contacted him to be a Facebook friend. He accepted, but he had no idea who I was. I had kept my maiden name out of it. I was still too afraid of what would come out of all this. What were his memories of me? Did he even remember me? I also took a chance to contact him through the chat feature. If he did not treat me rudely, I might venture to another person. This was my test before moving forward. I was almost giddy with relief at his response. It was positive. There was no coldness or snobbery. He was the same in our friendship as he was twenty years ago. We reminisced about the clubs we were in and the camping trips that were so much fun. He even remembered holding my hand once. Just good fun remembering the past. This wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. My daughter thought it was because of my old crush. I explained to her that it was because I opened a door and didn’t fall to my death.
Let’s try another one. I found another guy that was in so many of my classes. In fact, I always felt like he should have been the one giving the speech at graduation instead of me. He was so smart. I approached him and he was happy to hear from me. I couldn’t believe it. That was two for two. Could it be that it wasn’t all that bad?
OK, I found another friend who was in most of my classes. I asked to be her friend. She accepted, but something told me that she didn’t know who I was. After about a week or so, I felt so alone because she didn’t know who I was. We were not best friends, but we had a lot that we experienced together. She was a great classmate. I tossed and turned for awhile over whether or not to put my maiden name out there. So one day I took the chance and did it. The response from her was great. Then I saw something that kicked me in the stomach.
Two of her friends who commented on her entries were two boys (sorry, men) whom I had dated and whom I broke up with over her. They all wanted to date her instead of me. I wasn’t mad at her or anything for communicating with them. It was the memories that it all brought up.
The first boyfriend who forgot my 16th birthday and then wanted to dump me to ask her out. I beat him to the punch. We stayed friends, but the pain of a first boyfriend lasts a long time.
Boyfriend number two who took me to prom and then I discovered that I was second choice and he wished I was her. The result was me breaking it off and then nastiness and revenge from his friends. I couldn’t show my face for the lies told.
The pain was deep. I hated what had happened. I didn’t want those memories. I had such a low self-esteem with boys as it was. It only got worse. It took the contact from boyfriend number one to show me that high school is just a bunch of painful drama. Nothing more.
He became my friend on Facebook and struck up a chat. In so many ways he was the same guy. In many more I found a man instead of a boy. He had grown up. He had changed. He was different. We talked of the past. We joked. He apologized for his actions. Made me feel good, I must admit. If he had grown up and matured, maybe everyone else had, too. I was learning a hard lesson. I cannot keep judging people on my past view of them. I have to give them a chance to see if they had changed and grew up. I had. Why couldn’t they have?
A few more people entered my life on Facebook. A few I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to accept their friendships. The past with them was bad. The last time I spoke to one girl, she cussed me out because I would not say that she was the best friend I ever had. (Were we that overdramatic?) Another made my life a living, well you know, for over a year. She was deceitful and mean. They had all received me warmly and when they talked about their life, it was a very different one from high school and even college. They had changed. They had grown up.
I learned not to make memories as eternal things. They did happen and in that regard should not be forgotten. But to make memories current events is not right. Twenty years is a long time. Wonders can be made during that time. Miracles can occur. I’ve changed more in the last few days that I have in the last few years. I discovered friends again. I discovered that time can heal wounds. I haven’t found a few really close friends out there. I wonder if they are even alive. I’ll keep looking. I don’t want my memories to be jaded by time. I want new memories with a clearer reality.
I ventured into Facebook because of the book I had published. I had been told that getting myself and the book out there was to network. OK. I can do that. I was scared, but I could give it try. I began with family and a few friends. I held back venturing much further. But the past always beckons us.
I couldn’t help it. It was the year of my high school’s twentieth reunion. No one from high school knew where I was. My best friends had disappeared off the face of the earth and no one from my graduating class knew my married name. I had kept that door closed. But temptation and downright curiosity got the best of me. I started looking for high school friends.
When I found them, I just looked at their names. Too many memories surfaced. There were many good ones. There were many that tore at my heart. Fear, humiliation, and loneliness filled me. So much of who we are happens in our teenage years. The drama that unfolds creates the adults we are today.
I was always an introvert. Any stranger that spoke to me received a bent head with a beat red face. I hated crowds and new people. I trusted easily. I wore my heart on my sleeve. In many ways this is still me. I still hate meeting new people and would love to crawl under a table and hope no one sees me. I have to rack my brain what to say to people because I know that I have to find the right words because mine will never do. I am suspicious of people because trusting even those closest to me has resulted only in betrayal. I still wear my heart on my sleeve and hurt easily. Why? Because I found that most people mean what they say and have daggers buried in their words and actions. Why go through all this again and bring up the girl who cried so much? Because she had not healed.
The first person I befriended was a boy…… Let’s stop there. He is no longer a boy. We are almost forty years old. We have grown up. I need to stop looking at them all in that way. They are men and women now.
To get back to it – I found a man who I had the hardest and longest crush on. I fell for him in ninth grade and never got over him through the next few years. We were not meant to be anything put friends over those four years. I always appreciated that. I was a plain Jane. He was cute and flirtatious. Because he spoke to me others were less likely to make fun of me. I contacted him to be a Facebook friend. He accepted, but he had no idea who I was. I had kept my maiden name out of it. I was still too afraid of what would come out of all this. What were his memories of me? Did he even remember me? I also took a chance to contact him through the chat feature. If he did not treat me rudely, I might venture to another person. This was my test before moving forward. I was almost giddy with relief at his response. It was positive. There was no coldness or snobbery. He was the same in our friendship as he was twenty years ago. We reminisced about the clubs we were in and the camping trips that were so much fun. He even remembered holding my hand once. Just good fun remembering the past. This wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. My daughter thought it was because of my old crush. I explained to her that it was because I opened a door and didn’t fall to my death.
Let’s try another one. I found another guy that was in so many of my classes. In fact, I always felt like he should have been the one giving the speech at graduation instead of me. He was so smart. I approached him and he was happy to hear from me. I couldn’t believe it. That was two for two. Could it be that it wasn’t all that bad?
OK, I found another friend who was in most of my classes. I asked to be her friend. She accepted, but something told me that she didn’t know who I was. After about a week or so, I felt so alone because she didn’t know who I was. We were not best friends, but we had a lot that we experienced together. She was a great classmate. I tossed and turned for awhile over whether or not to put my maiden name out there. So one day I took the chance and did it. The response from her was great. Then I saw something that kicked me in the stomach.
Two of her friends who commented on her entries were two boys (sorry, men) whom I had dated and whom I broke up with over her. They all wanted to date her instead of me. I wasn’t mad at her or anything for communicating with them. It was the memories that it all brought up.
The first boyfriend who forgot my 16th birthday and then wanted to dump me to ask her out. I beat him to the punch. We stayed friends, but the pain of a first boyfriend lasts a long time.
Boyfriend number two who took me to prom and then I discovered that I was second choice and he wished I was her. The result was me breaking it off and then nastiness and revenge from his friends. I couldn’t show my face for the lies told.
The pain was deep. I hated what had happened. I didn’t want those memories. I had such a low self-esteem with boys as it was. It only got worse. It took the contact from boyfriend number one to show me that high school is just a bunch of painful drama. Nothing more.
He became my friend on Facebook and struck up a chat. In so many ways he was the same guy. In many more I found a man instead of a boy. He had grown up. He had changed. He was different. We talked of the past. We joked. He apologized for his actions. Made me feel good, I must admit. If he had grown up and matured, maybe everyone else had, too. I was learning a hard lesson. I cannot keep judging people on my past view of them. I have to give them a chance to see if they had changed and grew up. I had. Why couldn’t they have?
A few more people entered my life on Facebook. A few I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to accept their friendships. The past with them was bad. The last time I spoke to one girl, she cussed me out because I would not say that she was the best friend I ever had. (Were we that overdramatic?) Another made my life a living, well you know, for over a year. She was deceitful and mean. They had all received me warmly and when they talked about their life, it was a very different one from high school and even college. They had changed. They had grown up.
I learned not to make memories as eternal things. They did happen and in that regard should not be forgotten. But to make memories current events is not right. Twenty years is a long time. Wonders can be made during that time. Miracles can occur. I’ve changed more in the last few days that I have in the last few years. I discovered friends again. I discovered that time can heal wounds. I haven’t found a few really close friends out there. I wonder if they are even alive. I’ll keep looking. I don’t want my memories to be jaded by time. I want new memories with a clearer reality.
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