It Is Well

So, it was a pretty crazy morning. I woke up to two little boys bombarding my bed with sweet "good mornings" and stepping on my head... you know, the usual. After a few tantrums I got them all situated with breakfast and ran to take my shower. Everyone was dressed and ready to go, except the baby, who was still sleeping. I awoke my little prince, who was smiling immediately as usual. What a great gift to start my day:-)

I glanced at the clock- Woo hoo! Looks like we'll be on time today! Not. It's funny how when you are trying to get somewhere on time, everything starts to fall apart. I walked to the wall hook to grab my keys. Nothing there. I scour the house. Look on counter tops, under furniture, in random bags. Everywhere, to no avail. I text my husband to see if he possibly knew where they could be. No response. Then I remembered. The last time I had them was last evening when I sat them on top of the car in the driveway while we were doing yard work. There was no way I left them on top of the car last night...right? 

I tore through the living room, out of the office and into the garage. Slapping the button to open the garage door I strained to see the top of the car. To my horror, there they were. My car keys. In plain sight. Thank God no one took them and my car last night! That would have been a disaster!

I started to calm down and got ready to load the kids in the car when I saw it. My two year old Gideon had ripped the alarm system power source out of the wall. Seriously?! How am I supposed to arm the house while I'm gone? Kneeling over to check the wires and housing for the unit, I see it was an easy fix, I grabbed my tools, shut the power off and begin to re-wire the unit. I turned the power back on to find I did it wrong. Shoot. Try again. All the while, the clock is ticking, and the kids are starting to get hungry as breakfast is leaving their tummies. 

I hear a reassuring beep to let me know the power unit is a go. Awesome. Now to load up the car. I grab my purse and wallet, as I was planning to go grocery shopping after I dropped my eldest off at school. I get them all in the car and start my drive to hear Nehemiah yell "MOM! You forgot to buckle my seat belt!" Oops. I pulled over to take care of that and glanced in my wallet to make sure I had everything for my grocery trip. Once again- No card and no ID. By this time I'm thinking "Come on! What's with this day!" 

Taking a breath, I turned on some music to hear Kristene DiMarco singing "It is well" and let the words of the song wash over me. I thought "Yes. It is well. No matter what things look like, this day is going to turn out just fine. "

I drop my eldest off at preschool an hour late, chase Gideon back to the car and head back home. By this time the baby was asleep and I didn't want to haul them all out of the car again. I rolled the windows down, pulled the car as far into the garage as I could, and hoisted our huge black lab into the front seat to guard my precious babies. I grabbed the keys and ran back into the house. 

The routine continued. Looking over and under everything. Why was I working so hard? That's when I stopped to pray. "Lord, please help me find these cards. Show me where they are." Immediately I knew where to look. I went to the office and knelt under my husbands desk.  Low and behold, there was the card that I needed the most. At this point, the other ID was insignificant. I got the dog back into the house and headed for the grocery store. 

Once I arrived,  I strapped Gideon in the cart and placed Ethan in the harness. My shoulders ached. I was on day 9 of a 10 day water fast and felt weak. I didn't remember him feeling so heavy. 

Any parent knows, taking little ones to the grocery store is no picnic, so I planned to make it a quick trip. I zipped though the aisles to get what I needed. Once finished, I prepared my price-matching list and found the shortest line with the most friendly looking check out attendant that I could find. 

Now, during this trip, Gideon had decided, as he usually does, that he doesn't want to wear shoes. He had already kicked them off once. I had put them on tighter than before, thinking they would stay on. We were next in line when I looked down to see that one of Gideon's shoes was missing. Here we go again. I back tracked through the store, looking under racks and down the aisles that we had been. My body was aching and all I wanted to do was go home. Finding nothing, I grabbed his other shoe and threw it in my purse. We'd just go without shoes today. 

I finally got back to the checkout lane, excited to get my deals and get out of there. The attendant, not as friendly as I had hoped, started ringing up my cart. She notified me as item after item no longer qualified for price-matching at this store, due to patrons exploiting the program. Product after product I told the clerk that I no longer desired to purchase them. I'm on a budget. I figured I could buy them for a better price at the commissary. (That was other other ID that I could not find. My military one.) At the end of the ordeal, there was a whining toddler and a stack of fresh produce that I would not be bringing home. I shrugged, thanked the woman behind me for her patience and headed to the car. Geeze. So much for a quick trip.

I loaded up the kids and groceries, silently hoping the goldfish crackers that I gave my son would be going into my mouth. Before closing the trunk of the car, I glanced down to see a few flashes of orange. I wondered what it could be. Low and behold the clerk had slipped the food that I asked her to take back into my bags, and then some. There were the minneolas that I returned, as well as an orange bell pepper and a juicy mango. I immediately thought "Maybe this was a mistake! I need to take these back." Then I considered the clerk- the way she was very cut and dry and corrected and rebutted me on the appropriate prices of the price-matching ads. It seemed that she caught everything...then why not this? No, this was intentional. 

So, I chalked it up to a blessing and got in the car. Even now when I write these words, I almost feel guilty. Maybe next time I'm in the store, I'll give a donation to charity. Either way, what I took from the experience was that even on a seemingly horrible day, it doesn't take much to turn it all around. The one person I thought could care less about the details of my plight gave me a little blessing. It reminded me that through it all, God sees me. I needed that. Pushing the cart back to its place, I spied Gideon's other shoe on the bottom rack. Hmm. Everything turned out just fine...and you know what? It is well with my soul. 

-Mel

A Real Marriage Killer

I want to touch on something important today. Because of it's importance, I'm going to be very candid with you. Here it is: Unchecked emotional baggage is a marriage killer.

What I mean by this is simple. Every one of us has a story. Those stories are made up of very specific experiences. These experiences can be good or bad. If the majority of these experiences are negative, or traumatic, our worldviews tend to mirror that reality. If the majority of these experiences are positive and healthy, our worldviews, in turn reflect that reality as well. 

Far too many experience trauma in childhood, adolescence or even adulthood that leaves undeniable scars on the psyche- scars that cannot be removed without great introspection, counseling, time and healing.  Far too many think that beginning relationships with healthy individuals, a change of environment or elevated social status will alter that reality, but this is not the case. If lives are lived this way- glossing over horrible experiences with "good" things, the results can be devastating. 

Take marriages for example. We finally get to a place in our lives where the trauma has stopped, time has lapsed or we "feel" better. Every now and then we may experience triggers to the past, but we chalk it up to getting over it. It's been ten years since that rape. It shouldn't bother me now...right? No. Wrong. Horribly wrong. That single traumatic event will paint a marriage a horrific shade of gray, (Not the 50 shades that most ladies wish it would...and no I didn't read the book. Don't even get me started on that one.) because there are no rose colored glasses for that kind of trauma. It MUST be healed. It MUST be talked about. A good marriage will not heal it. Time will not erase it. 

The same thing goes for emotional or physical abuse, addiction, incest or other sexual trauma, the loss of a loved one-no matter how seemingly insignificant, those events change our hearts and minds. 

Time for the candid part. Back in college, I was an emotional wreck. Key close familial relationships were so subtly and blatantly toxic that I seriously thought I was losing my mind. I remember having a conversation on the phone in my dorm room with my dad that left me reeling.  Not only was the content of that conversation unhealthy, but it was so influenced by years of trauma, unhealthy views about myself, God, others and life that I literally could not make sense of it. I was analyzing and overanalyzing the conversation. There was no remedy. There was no thinking my way out of it. I had to do something about it. I know this is very general, but let me be specific.

Because of the sexual boundaries that had been crossed by friends, acquaintances, strangers and extended family since the age of 4, I had no idea how to privately employ physical and sexual boundaries with men..or women for that matter. If I was ever in a one on one situation with someone who had sexual intentions with me, I was done for. I didn't know how to fight. I just knew how to reluctantly comply. Can you imagine how dangerous that was for a child? For an adolescent? For a newlywed if left unchecked? It was a very tangible horror for me. I would constantly find myself submitting myself to God. Building walls in relationships to the point that I got over spiritual and cold to good men because I was simply trying to survive...to others I was an open door. Take what you want guys, I have no boundaries and I am a victim.

Because of the unhealthy baggage that I was carrying, I would often attract individuals who would trample on my boundaries. I would go from friendship to friendship, relationship to relationship just looking for someone safe who would honor my body and heart. What I needed was to be healthy enough to do that for myself. 

Fast forward to a few years in while dating my current husband. An amazing man with baggage of his own. I had walls in all the wrong places, still hadn't dealt with that past junk. I'd read some good Christian books, but they only put a bandage on a gaping wound. I was plagued with so much insecurity in a pretty secure relationship that I couldn't rest until I made sure my environments were safe, so matter how unhealthy my methods.  I remember walking downtown with my love on a wonderful date and an attractive woman walks by. Much more attractive than me in my eyes. Immediately I began to shut down and get defensive. 

Here is the toxic conversation going on in my head. 

"Is he comparing me to her right now? I can never grow my hair that long. She is so beautiful. I wish I looked like that. He probably wants to be with her instead of me." All the while, he's smiling in my eyes and holding my hand. I finally blurt out to the oblivious boyfriend "Did you just check her out?!" The dumbfounded boyfriend assures me that he didn't. He is enraptured in his love and regard for me, but all I can see is my broken worldview. Way to put a damper on date night... or a marriage. 

The hard part for me was that I believed behind closed doors, he would choose her. This was because all that was perpetuated against me was behind closed doors. It was a horrifying way to live.

In college, Jon and I were two peas in a pod. Completely in love. Anyone on the outside or inside our close circle of friends and family knew that. What they didn't know was what was going on inside my head.

Jon and I worked together at the YMCA for many years as Youth Development Staff. In any employment situation, you work with all kinds of people. To this day when I think about a situation that I experienced, I feel so sorry for the poor girl that I confronted. A beautiful young woman, super bubbly and thin-pretty much everything I wished I was at the time, worked with us as well. 

My work was administrative while Jon's was more hands on with the kids. She was paired with him in their classroom. I often found myself leaving my desk to "check up" on their classroom. Was everything ok? Did they need any more supplies? AKA Is he starting to fall in love with her?! Really? How damaging and toxic was this way of thinking? Yeah, my exclusive, I love you to death, love note writing, I'll sing Jesus loves me for you at a drop of a hat, let me show the world my queen, 3+ year boyfriend would just kick me to the curb to be with a more beautiful and thin STRANGER. It was completely irrational...but it was so real to me. I was convinced that he would. Why? Because of my unhealthy mind painted by unhealthy conversations by people that I held in a high regard and unhealthy experiences that I lived through. 

It was eating me alive until finally I cornered her in the bathroom one day.  I blurted out "Do you like Jon?" Dumbfounded (I seemed to have that reaction on people because I seemed to be very secure) She was like "What?! Nooo!" She graciously overlooked my huge outburst and we actually became close friends and are still friends today. Thank God that interaction ended well. 

It was undeniable that my brokenness was seeping out of my ears. That time in my dorm room was when I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to get help or I would lose my mind or chase away the love of my life. Mind you, this one emotional category was one of MANY. If sexual stuff and insecurities were this intense, you could imagine how I felt about food, the role of a father, God, my body, racial and socioeconomic issues and countless more. There was no part of me that was left untouched. I was a wreck. So, I leu of keeping my sanity I began to seek out help. 

I went through a string of counselors until I found two that were a perfect fit for me. One was an amazing pastor at my church who laid the foundation of emotional health and loving well. He did Jon and my pre-marital and personal counseling and it was amazing. We were completely different people when we walked down the aisle from where we had been before because of his methods, but that was only the beginning. 

The other counselor an unlikely older, very wise, unattractive, soft spoken and amazingly direct Christian man, counseled me out of his living room. I paid with cash and began to dredge through the mess of my life. By this time I was married. I WAS MARRIED!!! With all of that crap going on inside. It was by the grace of God that I stayed that way. I could have single-handedly sabotaged one of most substantial gifts God had ever given to me. One counselor taught us how to love and how to stay married. The other unearthed the foundations of years of dysfunction and taught me how to rebuild them in the strength of Jesus... Brick by brick. 

Check this out: within my familial circle, 5 out of 7 couples ended up or are currently facing divorce. That's over 74%. 74% of MY personal family. Yes, there were many different circumstances that ended these marriages. Yes, with all of the baggage present, for many it seemed healthier to walk away...but in my heart I truly believe if the issues were dealt with prior to marriage or attacked relentlessly within the marriage, that 74% may have worked out just fine. I'm thankful things have worked out or are getting better for everyone involved in these relationships, but watching my parents and other couples go through it, I would never wish divorce on anyone. 

Now, opening up old baggage is no walk in the park. It looks like hashing out issues such as sexual abuse or rape...how you may still smell the stench of your attackers in your nose and remember very clearly what happened when you try to be intimate with your spouse.  It's talking about how a father abandoned you or how a mother screamed in your face everyday telling you how worthless you were. It entails remembering how you had no pretend you weren't hungry at school because you didn't want anyone to know you were living under a bridge and had no where to lay your head at night. It is speaking about how you may have been locked in a closet, beaten until you were bloody or speaking about years of entangling porn addiction. These issues are real, and time does not make them go away. Marriage to a good person does not make them go away.

I could have been there too-facing divorce. In the bliss of loving and walking beside my husband as the children came, autopilot began to take over. There were still heart-wounds in me that were unaddressed. My husband and I lived around each other. Because of schedules, there was little time to connect, and we were not intentional. We were burned out. The only way I woke up to this reality was through a dream.

In the dream, Jon and I were attending the wedding of a mutual friend. I was supposed to sing for the ceremony and he was my guest.  The event was in a huge barn and it was a beautiful day. I went up on the stage to rehearse and looked around to find him. I loved when Jon cheered me on when I sang and I was missing my man. I finally spotted him. He was dressed in a flowing white  tunic. I watched him as he flung open the double doors of the barn to a courtyard where he spread out his arms and began to dance, spinning and twirling...by himself. He had the biggest smile on his face. He was so happy. All of a sudden, out of nowhere,  a violent tornado ripped through the courtyard and snatched him away. There was nothing left. I just stood there with my mouth and heart gaping, terrified. Then I woke up. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

 My heart was beating out of my chest and I heard a still small voice that said very clearly, "If you don't change the course of your marriage, the results will be devastating." That's all I needed to hear. I frantically scrambled groping in the darkness for my husband. Once I found him, I just lay my head on his chest weeping...just listening to his heartbeat. He was alive and he was with me. 

I can't tell you how real that dream was to me. Needless to say things have changed. Date nights and coffee have been happening. We decided there would be no more kids for us...at least not for a long time. We'd experienced our limits. We decided it was time for my husband to change his profession in the near future. Living life like this was not worth it. It was time to love and grow. Most importantly, no more auto-pilot for us. It was time to be intentional.

Intentionality begets healing my friend. It means changing the way things have always been, no matter how foreign or taboo they may seem. For the sake of everything that you deserve and for everything you are to become please don't let any issues become water under the bridge. Sooner or later those waters rise up so high you may just find yourself drowning. Maybe you are already there like I was. 

The process of healing may feel like you were run over by a train. It may feel like heaviness on your shoulders and a lot of days wondering why in the heck all of this mess is happening to you. It takes painful realizations that you must forgive so that you may be free. It takes facing the difficulty of releasing pain or memories that you may have even found yourself proud to have endured. You don't need another bed buddy. You need healing. You deserve freedom.

It took many years, but my husband and I did the work individually and as a couple to be where we are today. Yes, things can always improve. Yes, issues come up sometimes that need to be addressed- hence my previous post. Life goes on, pain happens...but so does great joy when you pursue health in a marriage. So comes great freedom. You deserve that love.

If any of this resonates with you, sit in that reality for a while. When you are ready, move to change it. The solutions may not always be found "fixing" your spouse. They may just be rooted in healing yourself.  Something to think about: When you are truly healthy, inner turmoil shouldn't be happening. Are you there yet? 

Let's work on emotional health this year. It's time. For yourself. For your future. For your marriage.

Never stop pursuing health. Never stop fighting for love.

Love you,

-Mel

Touch and Go

Let’s be honest for a second.
There are some things in your life that aren’t easy for me to talk to you about.
Like the way you pretend you weren’t crying when you walk into the room.
Like the way you’re addicted to the spotlight, and use sarcasm as a defense mechanism to keep people away.
Like the way it seems like you’re cheating on your husband when you hug that other guy at work.
Like the way you hate to be alone with your thoughts, so you fill up your time with worthy causes so that you don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror.
Like the way you feel like you’re swallowed into a chasm every time he tells you he looked at porn again and you act like it’s not ripping your heart into pieces.
Like how you want to scream when you see those bruises on her arms-she always says it was an accident.
Like how you wish you could say you didn’t understand how she felt being secure in another woman’s arms instead of a man's, but you do.
Like how I wish I could say I've never felt like throwing up every single piece of that chocolate cake out of fear that I’d gain another pound, but I can’t.
Like how I want to hold you and cry with you because I know you’re hiding another tragic loss of a baby behind that fragile smile.
Like how I wish I can say that the struggles of cutting, rage, stretching the truth, drinking yourself to sleep or taking pills to treat a condition you don't have anymore aren’t common, but they are. You’re not alone. We’ve been there before. Life’s like that. Sometimes, It’s touch and go. 

I was at the park today, and my oldest son decided to invite a stranger to our picnic. She obliged. For the sake of this story, let’s call her “B.” Maybe it was her piercing blue eyes and warm smile that compelled me to hand her a nectarine and invite her to join us…or maybe in was the persistent kindness of my son. Whatever the reason, I soon found myself deep in conversation.

We began chatting about the joys of having children and she commented about how happy and carefree mine were. I was freaking out inside because I didn't know her from Adam, and she was so close to my kids- still I didn't really feel the need to ask her to go away. Instead, I engaged her. She said she had a daughter. I wondered where she was. Soon our conversation evolved from kids to her appointed rendezvous with a young man who had cheated on her. She only found out because the woman in question sent her a text to tell her to “stay away from her man.”

We exchanged a few “Oh no he didn’t!” moments, but I couldn’t help but think “If we feel the same way about the actions of this guy- that he is probably living the life of a dirt bag, then why are you meeting him here?” As she recounted her story, her eyes almost pleaded with me-seemingly asking me to make her consider walking away…but I said nothing… and still she waited for him. I don’t think he ever came.

Have you even witnessed something painful in the life of friends or even strangers that isn’t easy to talk about? Have you ever been the one with the “issue” your friends and neighbors were whispering about? "Touch and Go" situations happen all of the time, but how do we find ourselves there? Unchecked emotions? Trauma or tragedy? Bad decisions? Let's talk about it.

There have been many times in my life where I was the one that needed intervention. Under the surface, of “Mel” was a minefield. One of the things about me is that I can hide things well to the world, but I verbally and emotionally vomit all over those in my close circles when I am not at my best. When I find myself lashing out at my kids, short with my husband, boycotting cooking dinner, aloof in the corner writing songs and scribbling black randomness onto canvas- you know, doing the whole sackcloth and ashes thing…I need to check my heart. A little rainstorm in my heart can turn into a hurricane if left unchecked. 

I am a huge advocate for counseling and emotional healing through therapy. I went to many counselors and therapists over the years and they have been instrumental in helping me define just what my heart needs. One counselor in particular spoke of the reality that certain interactions in my life can subconsciously trigger inner turmoil inside of me when I have not healed from experiences. He called it “Shaking my Snow Globe.” I hate it when something shakes up my snow globe! Triggers can be tough situations that I cannot control, critical words from others, uncomfortable interactions with strangers, or seeing others in pain. One of my biggest triggers is watching people that I love make bad decisions. That eats me alive.

When my snow globe is shaken, I find myself acting crazy. What cures me is a little quiet time alone with God. I pour out my heart and get honest about how I’m feeling and what was the cause. When it comes to heart wounds, it's crazy how something so minuscule can set me off. I remember one week I was pissed for like three days.  When I finally sat down to figure things out,  the melt down was over my analysis of the life of a musician I respected, after I watched her character embody an unspoken fear that I had in a music video. Eek! That's why I don't watch TV.

Through trial and error, I’ve learned that I need to overcome feeling frozen within myself and initiate routine heart checks. I need to be emotionally healthy for my family and for myself. It’s an actively challenging process, but in time, initiating healing becomes commonplace. I can't afford to melt down for days if my "snow globe" is shaken. 

I don’t want to waste any of my life going through a metaphorical desert. I want to thrive. I want to heal to so that I can be at my best and do what I was made for, even if the process of healing sucks. You deserve the same.

You were made to function at your best. You were made to live without heart wounds. You were made to find joy in your life and to bring joy to others just by being you. The journey to healing may be rough, but it’s always worth it. 

If you find yourself in a “Touch and Go” situation today, love there is hope for you. Believe me, I’ve been in many of them and I am the worst! If I can make it out alive, so can you. 

Matthew 11:28-30 says: 

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

These aren’t just nice words. These words are truth. I’ve lived them out and I’m feeling the grace and peace I’ve always wanted, needed and prayed for. You deserve the same. Lay those burdens down love. It’s time. Write me if you wanna talk about it. 

Love,

-Mel

Caught off guard

I was looking through and deleting pics on my phone after a pleasant conversation with a friend and something inside of me was beckoning me to look a little closer. To search for the sacred pictures I knew were there but I was afraid! I couldn't deny them. I had to find them. As I scrolled through the dates of the pictures from September 17th to August 25...to the twelfth. There they were- Eli and Enoch as beautiful and fragile as I could remember. By then, I couldn't stop the tears. I didn't really want to. I was almost shocked by my response because I thought I had been so good. I was caught off guard at my fear and apprehension to face the reality again. Only a little over a month ago it happened.

What do you do when you lose something so precious? The instinctive thing that I did was yell and shake my fist at God. I stopped once I realized that I wasn't really mad at Him, but I was hurt, am hurt deeply. I looked in the mirror at my flushed face and slowly motioned toward my stomach, making a rounded shape in the air of what I would look like by now. I yelled "They would have been ready!" I couldn't stop my flashes of anger. I tried to calm myself, and breathed deeply. Through clenched teeth I said "You'd better take care of them...Just take care of them."

Oh, how I wish I could. I am at a huge loss right now. I can't let the cares of life overtake my healing. It would make me ill. This is a part of who I am-My mat that I must take up and walk with, like Jamey said, but how I wish I didn't have it. I would rather have my sons.