Christmas with the family was good. Eventful, yet uneventful at the same time. It's a bit strange, how dynamics shift and change as you get older, as different members of the family grow up and move out and move on...

It was kind of like a Twilight Zone, this holiday. Everything was the same as it's been for years, yet off just enough to give you the willies and a vague feeling that something's changed, but you just can't put your finger on it...

Of course, little Peanut had a lot to do with that. Not in a bad way, but having a baby around significantly alters the flow of your days. K lives with her boyfriend an hour and a half away most of the time. J is a cheerleader and in dance, developing her own life. Mom is working again. R doesn't yell much anymore. Jr... is still the same. lol.

The family is getting counseling, which I'm thrilled about. We had a family session toward the end of my stay, and I think it was good. It opened my eyes to a few things, anyway.

Mom, Peanut, J, and I all took a trip to I to visit Mom's sister for a few days. In times past, we would stay at the old house that Mom was fixing up to sell. Now, however, it's sold, so we had to stay with V.  It was... eye opening. Unpleasant. I couldn't wait to leave. Her husband, P, is a big time controller (micromanaging everything and everyone), and kind of a jerk. Every time I was preparing food, he'd come up and make some snide "joke" about how disgusting my food looked and how wonderful it was that he didn't have to eat that stuff, or how he would never eat it in a million years. Towards the end, I started being snide back, and it worked. He shut up. Both Mom and I became physically ill from the stress of the environment, not to mention the nasty stomach virus that we picked up from V's daughter, who came the day before we left. I was throwing up most of the way home, and by the next morning I couldn't even keep liquids down. About 24 hours in, though, I started recovering. Mom ended up in the ER a couple of times due to her extreme pain. She didn't throw up, but she was really, really hurting and feverish. I think she's recuperating, though...

I have noticed since being back that cold weather aggravates my fibro pain. I had to use my walker quite frequently while I was back east, but I've managed to get along without it here (so far). I do think I'll be taking it with me while I'm out running errands today, though.

I've pretty much just been recuperating from that stupid cold/infection since I got home. Thank goodness that the massage program was delayed, because I would have had to start classes while miserably sick, and that would have been, well, miserable.

C got me a thoughtful Christmas gift-- an mp3 player! He noticed that I used to have an iPod, but hadn't had it for a long time, and wanted me to have a way to listen to music when I go for walks. Unfortunately, all I lacked was a charger cable (which I lost somewhere in ID), and J gave me an extra of hers while I was back home. So now I have a working iPod and an mp3 player! lol. I talked to C about it and we agreed that it would be prudent for me to return the mp3 player and use the money for groceries. It is, after all, the thought that counts. It was very sweet of him.

Also, C's sisters left a Congrats On Your Engagement card (they visited for New Year's) that contained quite the sum of money! I'm going out to run wedding errands today, which I'm excited about.

C says that after this next paycheck, we'll be able to go for the bank loan and start working on getting a house. He told S while I was gone that we won't be taking him with us, so he needs to start looking for a place to stay. I guess that really motivated him, because he got a job yesterday and is looking for a place of his own! So C and I will have our own little love-nest, which I am terribly excited about.

I realized the other day that it's been almost a year since I came down here from ID. It went by so fast! I have changed quite a bit, I know that... and yet I feel more myself than ever before. I don't have New Year's resolutions for this year, per se, but I do have a couple of words that I want to focus on--
Authentic
Intentional
Mindful

I guess you could say it's my AIM for this coming year. Hehe.

Had myself a little breakdown last night... C and I were having a great conversation on styles and principles of disciplining our future children. Great conversation, so that's not what upset me.

In the middle of our conversation, S came to the bedroom door and asked about his Magic cards and why one drawer of the dresser that's by the snake cage was empty. I explained that I was in the process of cleaning/organizing it, and he got visibly upset because I had moved the Magic cards around. In my defense (and C agrees), it was in total disarray and looked like no one had touched it in months... at least. I thought it was abandoned. I told them that I had put all the Magic stuff together in one drawer (not knowing that there were other drawers of Magic cards that I hadn't gotten to yet, which held C's cards), and they thought that I had consolidated both of their Magic sets into one drawer and now they were all mixed together and the apocalypse would ensue and we would all die. (Okay. Slight exaggeration. But that's how it felt to me.)

So anyway, C says he'll go out there and fix it, and we resume our conversation, but I'm totally not into it anymore. It's all I can do to fight back tears. So when I tell C, "I'm sorry, but I'm just not really able to be a part of this conversation right now," he jokingly popped me on the head (because he couldn't see my face and didn't realize that I was upset), and I lost it. I rocket-launched myself to the side of the bed in tears, but C grabbed my hand and reeled me back toward him.

"Hey, hey... what's wrong? What's going on? Hey... hey. Look at me. What's wrong?"

So as I'm shaking and sniffling, and C's trying to get me to stop crying (because apparently guys have this freak-out reflex when girls start crying, and the only thing they can think of is "get her to stop crying"), I managed to blubber out what was going on.

With all the uncertainty of my finances lately, and with school winding down, and being sick, and with wedding stuff, I just feel very out of control. So to feel like I'm more in control, I start cleaning and organizing and "setting things to rights", and that's what I was doing with the dresser in the dining room. And you know, I thought I was doing a good thing, like "Yay, I'm making this a more pleasant place to live, and I'm keeping things manageable" etc. But then it turns out that I royally screwed up, which is bad in the first place because I hate making mistakes, especially when I think that I'm doing something right. And on top of that, the guys have all these unspoken "lines and rules" around their gaming stuff that I just don't know about, and so I keep tripping over them, and it's frustrating. Also, my pride was wounded, because I have the reputation of being able to clean while keeping everything in a place where it'll be easily found again. This time, I bungled that.

Or so I thought. Come to find out that all I had done was move S's cards, and left C's untouched, so it was fine.

Anyway, C held me and kissed me and listened to me and smoothed my hair back and wiped my tears away and apologized for bopping me on the head (which I assured him was not his fault, because in a different situation it would have been funny and cute, but he couldn't see that I was upset, so it was okay) and assured me that it would be okay, that I would be fine. He held me close and said that sometimes he forgets how hard things still are for me. I kissed him back and told him how much I appreciate him.

I'm very glad for him. And it's just funny how the littlest things can set you off sometimes, isn't it? I was totally fine after those brief minutes of tears and consolation.

Had a conversation with B the other day. We both knew what it was going to be about when I said, "Hey, I need to talk to you. Not now, but I need to set up a time to talk to you."

I showed up at the shop at the appointed time, only to find that he had stepped out. So, I spent some time hanging out with K, talking about the impending awkwardness that I had brought upon myself. She offered to be there for the talk, and it was sweet of her, but I thought that it would probably be even more awkward with her there.

I needed to understand what happened before I went away for the summer. I needed to know if I had been picking up genuine "I'm interested" vibes, or if I was crazy. Without a clear understanding of what transpired, I wasn't sure if I was reading a situation that was actually there, or if I was sexualizing a completely innocent relationship.

Well, B came back to the shop, and we (awkwardly) ignored the proverbial elephant in the room for a little while, but he finally asked if I'd like to take a walk. When we did start walking, I had no idea what to talk about! How do I start this conversation? How in the world do I segue into the topic that's on my mind?

"So... how was your day?"

Hah. Lame.

But it worked. It loosened our tongues to the point that, when B asked what was on my mind (i.e. the reason for "the talk"), I was able to explain myself with a minimum of stammering. I told him that I had, in fact, forgiven him, and that I had done much examining of my motives. I wanted to be certain of my reasons for this talk, and I could say with confidence that it was not out of any desire to hurt him or throw anything in his face. I simply desired clarity and resolution.

B responded with an honesty that I had not anticipated. He shared the whole story with me candidly, and I was gratified to find that I am not, in fact, crazy. He was romantically interested, I was reading the signals aright, and my discomfort was justified.

However, he realizes and recognizes that there is, as he puts it, "a wall between us that is thirty years thick". He says that he felt there was chemistry between us from the first time we met, and if I were older, we could have a good thing going on. I'm not older, though, and nothing beyond friendship is ever going to transpire between us. He's come to grips with that. (Even if I were older, I'm not sure B is someone that I would want to necessarily consider romantically. We get along well, and we work well together, but... yeah.) Oh, yes, and he accepted complete responsibility for the situation. He would not let me take any of the blame, even when I tried to apologize for my lack of wisdom in being so vulnerable with him and confiding in him so much (single guy, single girl, building emotional closeness-- hello, red flag!!).

So, it was good. The awkwardness has evaporated, and I feel free to accept his gestures of friendship as just that- gestures of friendship. I'm not constantly evaluating each action with suspicion. It feels good to be able to just be friends again.

I know that I need to be wise in this, though. I won't be vulnerable with him as I was once, and I will avoid being alone with him. We're friends, but not close friends.

I'm just so glad that this was dealt with. Whew!

And so closes the most awkward saga ever.

This is the letter I gave to the Boss when I quit. Much prayer went into this, as I wanted to do it in God's spirit, not in a mean, vindictive spirit. I want him to see that there are genuine problems with the way things are, with the way he is, but I don't want to be spiteful. So, here it is...

Pastor B,


This is to notify you of my immediate resignation from the staff of Camp _______.


There are several reasons for this, not the least of which is my health. As you know, it has been declining steadily, despite my efforts to keep it strong.


I feel that I was misled in our phone conversations when I was assured that I would have the time and resources I would need to make my unique health and food situation work. You can imagine my surprise and chagrin when I was informed that complaints had been made about the time and effort I have been putting into maintaining my health through safe food preparation, especially since I had been previously unaware of any problems.


The inconsistency I  noticed in this scenario has, unfortunately, comprised many of my experiences with your leadership. Though this be a professedly Christian camp, I leave with the impression that money means far more than people or standards.


I am grateful for my time at Camp _______. It has been a season of growth, learning, and intense dependence on God. Memories were made that I will cherish for a lifetime, and friendships forged that I hope will last as long. Thank you for affording me the opportunity. I regret that my efforts were not to your standards, but I did my best, and I hope that I was able to leave a positive mark behind.

Sincerely,

C

My mom thinks I should write a letter to the conference president, but I'm definitely shying away from that thought. Maybe it's what God will ask me to do, but it's not my first desire. It seems... mean. Like I'm trying to tear him down. That's not the case, I just know that a lot of people are genuinely frustrated and disillusioned with the church because of his leadership. Not cool. He's turning people off to God, and I don't appreciate that. Still... I think writing to the president is a little drastic... I don't know. Just another thing to pray about.

What an eventful week it's been.

Time is a river, and the current has picked up quite a bit (for me) lately.

I left summer camp early. I really, really struggled with the decision, as there were a lot of reasons that I wanted to stay. First of all, I loved playing the guitar and singing the girls to sleep at night. I almost feel like that was the reason God took me to camp in the first place! It really fulfilled me.

Secondly, the big improv show during the last week was a big draw for me. I love all things humorous (to a point- I hate crude or unintelligent humor), and I'm naturally a rather dramatic person, so it was something special that I was looking forward to. Even now, I feel twinges of anticipation mixed with heavy dollops of regret when I think about it. Also, J fell off a horse and broke his ankle, and M got tackled by a kid and broke her toe... which means that now, the improv group consists of... 3. So sad.

Naturally, I didn't want to leave my new friends. I knew we'd miss each other, and I know the workload will be heavier on them now that I'm gone. That's the last thing I want- to burden the others. In addition, I thought that I was really needed in the kitchen, and that I was more or less "crucial" (not quite that urgent, but I can't think of the right word) to the smooth production of meals for our group of 300. (There's a Music Camp that is renting space on the camp and running concurrently with our camps, so we have quite a lot of people trooping in the cafeteria doors!)

Welll... the day before I left, the Boss took me out of the kitchen because I had made a mistake. The head cook is sick, one of the other staff had just had oral surgery, another one has a colon infection, and another one had the day off, so were were running short on staff. As I was cleaning up from lunch, I decided against cleaning the grill, since we were going to use it later to make quesadillas, and in the past, I've always been told that, if we're going to use the grill later, don't clean it yet. Well, that was the wrong choice. The very next day, I was out, because I wasn't "aggressive enough". Yup. Apparently, there were also complaints from the kitchen staff that I was taking too long to cook my special food and eat, and that I seemed to care more about my food than I did about serving the other food. (Which, by the by, is balogna, because the kitchen staff and I are on totally cool terms, and if there was a complaint, I would have heard about it from them. And I don't know what he was talking about with food- I usually eat quick, simple things because I don't have the energy to put into something elaborate.)

That really angered me. It wasn't that alone that sparked my rage, but a series of events and small things that built up to the point where I realized that I genuinely dislike the Boss. He infuriates me. That's hard, because I really don't want to be dismissed for physical assault! :) (Oh, yeah, and there's that whole "I don't like hurting people" thing. Ah, yes, and being Christlike. I can't see Jesus practicing his left hook on someone he doesn't like.) Aaaaaactually.... God's been trying to get me to pray for the man. I have, reluctantly at first... but I know it's a discipline I need to continue. I recognize that God does not want bitterness, anger, and resentment to fester inside my heart, and this is a good way to keep it from taking up residence. It's hard to hate someone while you're praying for them. Ever tried it?

I think the beginning of the end came when Gluten Free Girl showed up. There was a camper this last week who is gluten free.  That's fine. I know gluten free. I've been doing it for, what, three years now? I fully expected to be put in charge of her food, and I was willing to do so. As I thought, it got (more or less) delegated to me, so one evening while there was a lull, I was writing down the week's menu so I could plan what she was going to eat. The Boss walked in, asked what I was doing, and when I told him, he said to stop it. It was a waste of time. Do something useful. "She'll eat what we give her."

Right. You're going to cook for her? You walked in, looked at the biscuits and gravy, and asked if they were gluten free. Brother, please.

I was furious. The one thought that burned its way clearly to the forefront of my mind was, "You don't even know. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, MR. 'ICANEATWHATEVERIWANT'!" (Actually, there were a lot more exclamation points and bolding and highlighting and whatever going on in my head, but... this will suffice.) And truly, he doesn't know. Nor does he care to know. He blazes ahead in his "sympathetic" ignorance, bulldozing any others who do not do things his way, for it is his way or the highway. 

I thought to myself, I'm still going to do it, just not when you're around. See, the girl's parents sent a whole bag of stuff with her, but, as most GF stuff is, it's all mixes. The poor girl had to wait an hour the first day for her food (some pasta with cheese) because he didn't think ahead and make a pizza crust for her.

So he comes up to me later and says, "I just don't want you burdening yourself with that." I immediately replied, somewhat shocked, "It's not a burden."
"Yes it is," he says. "It's a burden. Don't waste your time."

What?!?!?!?!?!

Okay, whatever. You're the Boss. And, I'm ashamed to admit it, but one of the main reasons I let it go was because I wanted to watch him crash and burn. (I really, really didn't want to sacrifice the poor girl on the altar of my "vendetta", but I knew that if I tried to oppose him, I'd be fired anyway, so it wouldn't have made much of a difference.)

It was after that the mistake and subsequent removal from the kitchen happened.

An overarching theme to this whole drama is the fact that I'd been getting sick- very sick. Constant exposure to the foods I'm allergic to have broken down my body's resistance, and it has basically been responding as if I'd been straight up ingesting the foods. This is bad. This is very bad. But I can be a soldier. I can tough it out. I started taking pain killers, which helped some. I knew that I couldn't hack it 'till September, so I had decided to leave in two weeks, when camp was done, because they neeeeeded me!

Well, after our head cook threw up in to the trash can, I was trying to dish up the beans and the Boss kept saying, "I'll do it. I'll do it," and taking the stuff away from me. Okay... Are you going to let me do my job, or no? (This is the evening of the grill-cleaning fiasco- I hadn't cleaned it after lunch, and now they were cleaning it and making quesadillas.) The Boss turns to me and says, "If you're sick, you leave, too."

"It's not a contagious sick."

"If you're not feeling good, you leave. We don't need you getting more sick."

This wasn't a sympathetic, I want you to heal and rest and get better statement. This was more of an I'm tired of you being sick statement.

Well, I left. I went back to my cabin and I punched the walls and kicked the bed and screamed some unearthly primeval scream and I sobbed until my eyes were totally bloodshot.

I felt so worthless. I felt so weak. I felt like everyone else on camp was doing their jobs, pulling their weight, and I was dead weight. I was still furious over gluten free girl and his callous disregard for her needs (and, by inference, my needs). Like in everything else, he would do just enough to make sure she got something, but nothing too good, because, well, that would take time. It would take money, Lord forbid.

I was almost to the point of self-harm, I was so distraught. I knew that my thinking was off, so I went and asked for my phone. If that wasn't an emergency, I don't know what is! Unfortunately... not a single soul in my support system answered their phone! Of course. *grim smile*

Praise God, he knew what I needed. My staff roomie walked in, and we got to talking. As it turns out, I'm not the only one who doesn't like the Boss (a fact I knew about the kitchen staff, but not about the other staff) and who is really frustrated and annoyed by his inconsistent leadership and favoritism. They're pretty much here for the money.

He's not a good leader. He doesn't teach, he censures. If you make a mistake, you've got problems. He's inconsistent in many ways. He is a micromanager who insists on things done his way (even if you've already received orders that are contradictory). He's manipulative. He's cheap. Not frugal, or a "good steward", but cheap. He's insincere. He puts on a good face, and sometimes I actually feel like he cares about me, but then the veneer wears thin, and I see that he doesn't. (That's part of the inconsistency- if you're going to pretend, at least keep up your front!) He talks about God, sometimes, but I see no walk to his talk. He says things, "my God this" and "my God that", and I find myself thinking, If your God is anything like you, I wouldn't serve him in a million years. He runs an organization, not a ministry.

And that, I think is the true reason why I left. I can't work with the man anymore. He's killing my soul.

Wednesday night, I was informed that I was going to be taken out of the kitchen, so I wouldn't continue getting sick. Awesome! That was a total answer to a prayer J and I had not minutes before!! I was so stoked! Then the kicker: "If you can't handle that, we're going to have to let you go."

Ahh, I see. So I'm not indispensable. Hmm. Well, there goes that objection...

I left that encounter with the Boss and headed to the fire pit for worship. One thing to the Boss's credit- he picks awesome camp pastors. The worship that night was about living rich. God is our Father, yes? And God owns everything, yes? So, if we are children of God, then why do we worry about money? In Christ, we have everything we need- we are rich!

Huh. Well... there goes objection #2. I've been so worried about money- how am I going to pay off my SOULS bill?! That's what's kept me here so long...

After those two objections were removed (and quite speedily, I might add), it only took the encounter the next morning to convince me that I no longer needed to put up with the Boss's shenanigans.

I approached him after Staff Meeting to ask how he wanted me to balance my new schedule with food preparation and eating (because at the beginning, he was almost phobic about my eating different food in front of the kids). That was when I was told that I'd take my rest hour to cook all three meals. I'd just have to plan ahead. (At this point, I was thinking, I thought planning ahead was a burden and a waste of time?) Because I couldn't have "an hour and a half to cook and eat like you are doing now" (this is where the complaints comment came in). It was all very... how do I describe it? Curt. Inflexible. Close-minded.

This, from the man who wooed me to his summer camp with smooth assurances that I would have all the time and resources I would need to make this thing work. Now I'm being shut down, accusations are being thrown in my face that I knew nothing about, and I can sense that he's tired of dealing with my issues.

If he had brought up the complaint in a different spirit so that I could correct the situation, rather than using it as an excuse to deny me previously agreed upon terms, I may not have gotten so angry. As it was, I was immediately... enraged. I cannot recall the last time I was so furious, with the exception of the day before, and even that was a toss-up. I knew I had to get out of there, or I was going to hurl my full water bottle at his face. He did, however, reluctantly give me permission to go right then while the kids were having worship and set up my breakfast, because I hadn't planned ahead, but this was the only day. How kind of him.

I flew to the bathroom, tears stinging my eyes, and I checked to make sure that there was no one around. Then I hurled the water bottle into the corner with all my might (and broke it, sadly) and broke down crying. I can't do this, God. I can't do this! I can't work with him anymore! I can't do this... please, don't ask me to do this... I mean, I will if you want me to, but please... I can't do this....

I collected my water bottle, headed back to my cabin, and proceeded to punch some more walls.

YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW. YOU HAVE NO STINKING CLUE.

More screaming, more tears, more prayer, a bruised hand... and I was done. I was leaving.

My objections had been removed. I was free. The things that had held me there before were not enough to keep me there anymore. What is an improv show when the laughter echoes from a hollow soul?

One thing that had chained me to this place was guilt. If I left, I was a quitter, a failure. I can't handle that. But now... I know that, as a human being with worth and value, I can say no. I can stand up and say, "I will not take this anymore. I do not have to be treated this way."

I didn't leave because of homesickness, and I didn't leave solely on the basis of my broken health. I left on the basis of my broken trust. I trusted the Boss, and he has seriously disappointed me. I don't trust him anymore, needless to say. He's not a safe person, and it's okay for me to remove myself from that situation.

Before nightfall, I had that job my dad offered me. I'm going on a paid road trip. I'm going to see natural wonders, the works of God's hands. I'm going home. And I'm happy about that.

Yeah, I did it. I wrote him an email.

I needed to let him know that I'm not coming back to work in the shop after the summer.

I prayed over it... I hope it came out okay.

"Hey B!

Greetings from California. (You know, it’s actually not as bad as I thought it’d be. It’s starting to grow on me.) I hear that you all have been having awfully cold weather up there, so I’m pretty glad I took off when I did!

How is racquetball going? It hasn’t died out yet, I trust... since I’ve been talking to people who still go. (I HOPE it doesn’t die out! I’m gonna need to get back into the swing of things when I get back. Get it? Swing? lol.) And did you guys ever actually go to the hot springs down by the G’s place? I know the group was pretty stoked about that.

I do need to let you know that you should put out a “help wanted” sign for after K leaves. I’m going to be honest with you- the situation that developed before I left for CA was really awkward, and I don’t feel comfortable working in the shop anymore. That doesn’t mean that youth group is out, but I think we were just spending too much time together. Sorry to change plans on you like that.

I hope all is going well in Idaho. I miss the scenery quite a bit, and the church, too! Can you pass on my greetings to the church family? Thanks.

Have a great day!

C"

Yeah... I just hope that I wasn't seriously, totally reading something into his words and actions that wasn't there. (When there's not an explicit admission of interest, you just never really know, I guess...)

Oh, my! What busy, busy days I’ve had.

Monday:

Try to visit museums, only to find that everything is closed, due to a long Easter weekend. Instead, play guitar in the park, meet friends for supper, and then visit the horse stables to meet their new addition, Willy.

Tuesday:

Go visit museums, think about how the Territorial Prison museum is a giant monument to sin and the futility of humanity's efforts to curb it.

Prayer over my talk that night. I’m nervous, sorta, in a weird way, but... I’ve prayed about this while I was piecing it together, so I know it’s the Lord’s words... so re-surrender it, practice guitar, and put the nervousness out of your mind!

The talk itself was good. The women (victims of sexual assault) seemed to get into it, and the feedback afterward was great! I felt as though God wanted me to sing “You Are More” (by Tenth Avenue North) at the very end, so I asked if they were okay with it, got a resounding yes, and proceeded to sing to them. I could tell it touched many hearts there. The message to that song is so powerful, especially for those of us who feel we have been tainted or soiled by our past and the sins against us... and our resulting choices.

I leave the support group and meet up with C, his brother, and their friend. We go out to Olive Garden, where they proceed to insist that I order something, and view it as a special challenge to find something I can eat. When I settle on a salad, they give a cheer of victory... despite the fact that I wasn’t really hungry, and I had brought food with me to eat. (I ended up eating most of salad as leftovers on Thursday. Apparently, none of them are salad eaters, so they wouldn’t help me out.) After Olive Garden, we went back to C’s place. I had every intention of leaving then, but he popped in a movie, and it looked good, so I stayed. It was good, as far as movies go, but I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone I know, and I won’t be watching it again. There wasn’t anything uplifting in it, really, so I don’t need to stuff my brain full of it. I’ve got enough problems without a junk-food fest for the intellect. Afterward, C walked me to my car, and we parted with a few words and a hug. I’m really proud of him, and I respect him even more, because he totally respected my boundaries. The hug was a good one, but not inappropriately long. In my tired, havingjustwatchedaromanticmovie state, I actually had wished it were longer at the time. Now I’m glad it wasn’t. I’m actively in the process of surrendering those feelings that I still have for C. I don’t know if I’m doing it right, but I want to be free of them.

I also had a talk with K that morning. It was nice, if slightly awkward at times, due to the presence of others around her that we were trying to talk about. How dare they? (I jest, I jest...) Actually, it was really nice. I love that girl. It’s neat how we can do the light and happy talk of who’s doing what and what’s going on and so forth, but we can also get right down to the nitty gritty of how we’re actually doing, what we’re questioning at the moment, etc. I just wish that I could be more uplifting. It seems to me that I have nothing but questions when I talk with her, and no answers for either one of us.

Ahh, yes, and that night, as I went to sleep, I was talking to God about love and relationships. You see, I love C. The society I was raised in tells me that love prevails over all, and to follow my heart, and it will all work out. But where would that take me? Right back to my old life. I’d be losing all that I’ve gained, and for what? For a relationship with my old flame? I think not. So, anyway, I was talking to God about relationships, and how it’s been 2 years and I’ve learned so much, and how I think that I’d really like to give it a try... and what kind of guy I’d like. Just talking, you know. But I also did come to a point of surrender on this issue, too... because, truly, I want what God wants for my life, even my love life. If I didn’t care, then I’d just waltz right back into C’s arms. But I DO care. My love for God prevails over any of my earthly relationships. So I asked for the very best love story. I actually asked God to bring me a relationship. Have I done that before? I can’t recall. But I think it’s a milestone, because now I know that I can trust him enough to actually ask him to bring me that right relationship (instead of just kind of hoping it will happen), and not be afraid that I’ll get a clunker.

Wednesday:

Had lunch with E, and she made the most amazingly delicious chicken!! She shared some of the feedback from the night before, and it was good- really good! It was neat, because she’s such a strong Christian that we can have these great talks about faith and God and the reality of our depression spells but God’s goodness in the midst of it, and... I always come away from time with her encouraged. And she strongly encourages my ministry with the victims. She is sure that this is the ministry God has for me- this is why he’s given me the gifts of music, enthusiasm, eloquence, etc. It all wraps up into one package that is effective at reaching those particular people. I tend to agree with her. Working with victims and youth both light a fire in my heart that no other ministry or need can compare with. I’m a soft touch. I feel bad for every need I come across. But there is a passion that spontaneously ignites when I’m working with victims that just doesn’t happen when I’m, say, going door to door.

So, afterward, D and I met up for tea and a smoothie and just talked. I’m strangely drawn to her, even though she has so many issues... I think it’s ‘cause she reminds me so much of Mom. We talked about schizophrenia, which she has, and she explained the world of the schizo. Imagine you’ve just been told that you don’t actually have a sister. Every memory of fun times shared, every place you’ve visited, every conversation, every tickle fight, every honest to goodness fight... it never happened. Ever. Oh, and you don’t have a dog, either. They don’t exist. They’re not real.

Can you imagine that? Because to schizophrenics, that’s what it’s like. Have you ever watched A Beautiful Mind? You should. It’s very well done.

D and I talked about other stuff, too. E is really happy about our friendship, because I’m not afraid to tell D the truth, and she needs that. (I’m pleasant and tactful about it... most of the time. We are friends, after all!) She’s drawn to me, too. She says she misses me, which is rather unusual for her. It’s cool. I’m just glad God brought us together. We can learn a lot from each other, I hope.

Then, I went home and packed. D called. (Not D I just had tea with, but Alaska D.) I didn’t get to the phone in time, so he left a message, saying that he just wanted to catch up and see how I was doing, that he had gotten the letter through K and “really enjoyed it.” (What does THAT mean?!) He said that he’d called B to get my number (which I thought was a deliciously ironic twist), he hoped I didn’t mind, and that he’d try again soon. Oh, and that I was in his prayers.

So I called him back later, and got his answering machine, and I left a happy little message about how it was nice to get his message, and it’d be nice to talk to him, so sure, go ahead and try again. I’ll just be packing, anyway, or if you call tomorrow, I’ll be driving.

That was that.

Thursday:

I did my last talk at Champion church for a women’s group, where the pastor interviewed me about what I had talked about at the group on Tuesday, my personal story, and how a friend could help a victimized friend heal. I sang “You Are More” for them again, and I saw some people crying. And they gave me $50 for coming to speak! (A love offering.) That was nice. What with gas prices, I’ll need it. Then E gave me $40. I think I’m going to send that to Crystal Peaks.

I went back home, had lunch, packed up the car, and headed out for Cali. 5 hours later, I was at my destination, and I got to settle in with H for some chat time, which was great. Then, whilst checking my fb, my phone rang.

It was D.

That was fast.

Well, we chatted for about 45 minutes total. At first it was catch up, how are you, what are you doing, etc. He had just gotten back from racquetball, which I MISS DESPERATELY! (Just for the record.)

After a bit, he brought up the letter again. Hmm... He said that there were also some things he wanted to say to me before he left, but he chickened out. I told him it happens to the best of us... since I did the same thing! LOL. I mentioned that, if he preferred, he could write them in an email and send it to me, but that launched us into a discussion of how his email service has some sort of bug, and it will shut down the program as you’re typing the email... without saving it. Turns out he actually tried to write me about a half-dozen times, then gave up in frustration, called B, and got my phone number.

And here I was, prepping myself to never, ever receive an email from him. He’s not gonna write. Don’t get your hopes up. Just don’t think about it. You surrendered it, remember? It doesn’t matter whether he writes or not. You’re okay, either way.

So later on, he comes out with this: “I actually do have a question I’d like to ask you.”

Me: Oh, sure. What is it?

D: Are you interested in being more than friends?

WHAT?!

Me: Well, that’s blunt!

D: I know, but if I didn’t say it that way, I wouldn’t have said it at all.

(LOL. Just as a side note.)

He then went on to say that he had wanted to ask me, but he didn’t want to risk damaging the friendship. And even if I said no, which was perfectly fine, he wanted to maintain a friendship. And even if I said no, that I’ve already given him a good gift, which is that, in the future, he would know what type of woman he was looking for.

Can we say, “Awwwwwww”?

I replied, albeit less bluntly than the posed question.

You’ll hear about that in tomorrow’s installment of this dramatic series.

......

Just kidding. I can’t hold it in.

I replied, albeit less bluntly than the posed question, something to the effect of, “I struggled with the same problem of not wanting to hurt the friendship, so that’s why I wrote the letter, but that I had prayed about it like crazy, and that I had perfect peace about it. I went on to explain that he, too, had given me a good gift already- the surrender and growth of my relationship with God over this issue are priceless to me, and that, even if nothing ever comes of this, I treasure this experience. So... yes, I was interested in getting to know him better.”

So... I guess... I’ve got me that relationship that I asked about two nights ago. Well, it’s not an official relationship, I guess... We’re just getting to know each other better. I don’t know if that counts. But, I do know that... he likes me! :) Yes, and I like him, too.

The REALLY COOL THING was that when I out and asked, “How is this going to work? You’re moving to Alaska!”, he basically said that God had opened the doors for him to be there, but that he was not “locked in” to any one place except the place where God wanted him. We ended our conversation on the note of, “if God makes it clear that this isn’t to be, then we’re done, because we both want His will to be done, not our own.”

Actually, D mentioned how God had opened this door in a way that was unusual to him, because, in past “courting relationships”, either he had come on too strong, or she had, and they were both basically about themselves, not about what God wanted. They didn’t let God in. This time, he feels that we both allowed God to lead, and he’s happy about that.

I am, too.

The reason I was even okay to acknowledge to him that I like him is because I did my homework first, and got the thumbs up from the important people in my life. So I’ve got a few wise people to back up my decision and support me in this. I’m not alone! :)

So... yeah. What a day! I’m so tired. Time for sleep.

(Is it silly that I keep smiling to myself? It’s just that... well.. he likes me! And this is exciting. I like it. I’m a little scared, though... to be honest. Relationships involve risk- one thing I don’t necessarily leap for joy over.)

I didn't realize that I had so much scheduled for my "time off"... but that's kind of who I am as a person, anyway. I do this to myself all the time. Annnnnnnnd... I still feel twinges of guilt for not doing enough. Like, seriously, you're stressed out over that? Get a grip, woman! You're hardly doing anything!

Yeah, but I'm on vacation. Chew on that word for a while. That means I don't have to do anything. Right?

Most of it is just prep work for the speaking engagements I have. I finally got my sermon done. I was pretty miserable this last week, not having it done.

Shame! Guilt! How dare you watch the Waltons instead of finishing your sermon?! Priorities! Prioritieeeeeeees!

Sigh. (Somehow, I don't think that this is legitimate... but I don't know how to get rid of it.)

So, anyway, I had to get out of the house yesterday. I went down to town and hung out in a park for a while (working on my sermon), but it was wayyy too windy. I don't like wind much. So I went down to the river park and finished it there... sitting in my car. With the windows down. (After I had wandered around for a while.)

Then, while waiting for the friend with whom I was supposed to go rollerblading to call me back, I hopped over the main road and wandered around the historic downtown district. C and I used to spend a good chunk of time there. It was interesting. Good and necessary, but hard. Kind of bittersweet. It was like a "goodbye".

Now that it has finally and officially hit me that there is no hope and future for our relationship together ever again, I'm grieving the loss all over again. It's not as overwhelming as it was when we had actually broken up, because this loss is cushioned by an extensive span of time. However, it is a loss. I'm sad. And being in Y doesn't make it any easier. Everywhere I turn, a memory rises up and confronts me. I am continually acknowledging and releasing. It's slightly painful. I feel lonely much of the time.

So I wandered by myself at twilight. Like I said, it was a goodbye. A burial of sorts. The death of an old hope that had secretly clung to me with shadowy fingers.

By the time I made it to the old man's shop (where C and I consistently bought our swords, and where I bought my wedding dress), my stomach hurt and I thought I was going to throw up. That passed, and so did I... past dusty storefronts and museums...

It's good, Lord. It's good. I am willing to say goodbye to this. It hurts, but... it's good.

I almost forgot that I had started this tradition!! Nonetheless, here it is... Tubular Tuesday. (Actually, it's remarkable the difference a week makes. I feel so much better this week.... which goes to prove that my statement from last week was true: This, too, shall pass.)

If you want to see my original inspiration, it is here, @ Dialectic Dichotomy.

Triumphant Tales
-I have begun taking steps towards dealing with my rage healthfully.
-I said no to something, even though it was good.
-I am going to say no to something else, despite the guilt, because I believe it's the right thing to do.
-I am "sharp", a fast learner. I discovered that this week.
-My colon is squeaky clean now.
-I have a sponsor for Celebrate Recovery.

Thankfuls
-Mom is still doing well, health-wise.
-My chiropractor is the bomb. I'm glad I found him.
-I have health insurance now.
-I feel better this week.
-My relationship with Slightly Hypothetical Person has improved.
-I learned how to run a chainsaw.
-I have lots of people who care about me.
-My cats.

Thoughts To Ponder
Those convinced against their will are of the same opinion still.

This, too, shall pass.

No matter what else has happened, I'm still here.

My todays are the foundation for my tomorrows.

My pain shall not be wasted.

Someone, somewhere lied to me yesterday about the contents of my food... and now I pay for their untruth.  At least it's a good remind of why I don't eat the foods I'm allergic to... Many times I've thought, "Well, I'll just have a little. I mean, yeah, I'll get sick, but it can't be that bad, right?"

WRONG. I'm not even going to bother going into detail, but all I know at the end of this day is that I have a porcelain friend.

I always decide against having any "bad" foods on purpose, 'cause I know that *sigh* I'll pay. Oh boy, I'll pay. I hate food allergies. Why can't I just be like J and get sub-dermal cysts  and a low immune system?

Well, on the bright side... at least I don't go into anaphylactic shock. I could be dead right now. (My colon wants me dead. Seriously.)

So, I must prepare for my ordeal tomorrow. I have no idea how it's going to go, I only know that God has told me I need to try to patch up this relationship, even though she pretends as though nothing ever happened...

I guess the whole point is that I want to try to understand her perspective, and use some I-statements to explain to her how much her actions hurt me. If the opportunity arises, I'd like to insert this question/statement: "In the future, if I go to God about something and come out with different convictions than you have, is this scenario going to repeat itself?" Something along those lines. I also want to stress that, if she has a problem with me, please come to me. I mean, I understand as well as the next person the value of getting counsel from others, but she was not looking for counsel. She was (from my point of view) badmouthing me to my friends. But, tomorrow, we'll see what her perspective was.

Oh, Lord... what the heck am I gonna say?! I'm not skilled at this whole conflict-resolution thing. Just give me the right words. I don't want to alienate her or come across mean and spiteful or anything. I just want clarity. Clarity and resolution. And permission to be myself without looking over my shoulder all the time.

On a bright note, had a chat with a friend today. It was the perfect thing. Not that we were able to give each other answers or anything, but just knowing that someone else is out there fighting a similar battle is... heartening. Knowing that she'll be praying for me is awesome. And knowing that I'll be praying for her gives me a reason to keep talking to God.

And maybe it's also the friendship aspect of it. I'm honored that she chose to come to me. It makes me happy. And with her, I can be totally transparent and honest, and she's not repulsed. That in itself is totally cool.

Plus, I resonate with her emotions and thought processes alot. So when I'm praying for her, it's almost like I'm praying for me. Because I firmly believe that God loves her, has plans for her, and wants to elevate her to joys beyond her wildest dreams... and I have a hard time believing that for myself. But we're so similar that when I believe it for her, I'm believing it for me, too.

Oh, yeah. And I'm chopping my hair off on Friday. It'll look like this:

Awesome? Totally.