Growth

   The last three years have been the hardest, yet most fulfilling years of my life. I left an abusive marriage, got robbed, started working at the hospital, got tattooed, bought a car, and a place to live, went back to school, tried to figure out what makes me really happy, and lost my father, grandmother, and uncle. Through all of this, I have had two anchors: One, my relationship with God. I cannot over-emphasize how much this relationship has impacted my life! He is my rock, source of strength, counselor, and the lap that I crawl into when I've felt like I can't possibly cry anymore. The second anchor has been music. I've always loved music, but that love has blossomed over these last years.
   Right after my ex and I broke up, my house was robbed. They took my laptop, cell phone, and iPod, among other things. The week that passed, before I was able to replace that iPod, was the longest week of my life. It was also the week that I found out that my dad had remarried without even a phone call to his kids. My life was upside-down. I couldn't breathe or think without the music to dull the pain. I wandered out to the local dance club because I needed to be somewhere that the music would drown my thoughts. This is where I learned that I'm a good dancer, where I met some very treasured friends, and where I started to regain some of my lost confidence.
   Right around this time, I had a boyfriend (officially) for four days. We had known each other since we were teenagers and he had recently moved back to town. He really liked this band called 10 Years, they were to have a concert at a local venue in a month, and he encouraged me to get a ticket. Not knowing that we wouldn't be together, I went ahead and purchased one. Well, he said he loved me, I freaked out, and we broke up. I was a bit of a commitment-phobe back then. Haha! The concert date approached and I was torn. Should I go, knowing he would be there? But... I had already spent the money. Thankfully, I went. That was the day I fell in love.
   Finding out that I could go somewhere and listen to incredible music and meet people that spoke the language of my soul was a totally new concept to me. I had gone to a DC Talk concert with my youth group, back in the day; It was expensive, and the band was so far away that we had to watch them on a big screen. The discovery that if I got there early, I could be close enough that the musician might sweat on me or hold my hand was mind blowing! As I said before, I had fallen in love, and found something that was truly mine. I've slowly brought my family into this experience, and it's now the preferred way that we spend quality time together. We have made incredible friendships with some amazingly talented, and genuinely, wonderful people. We've crafted memories that are unique and will bring smiles to our faces for the rest of our lives.
   Over the last year, one of the main questions that has been swirling through my life is: "Why? Why am I going through the hardest years of my life, alone?" Obviously, what's left of my family has been there, along with beautiful friends, new and old, but no one to help shoulder the weight. No one that would just hold me while I cried all those nights. What was the lesson? I used to think that the lesson was that I wasn't alone. God was, and is, always, there. He is the one that I should find comfort in. While this is so true, it still hadn't stilled the question on my heart. "Why must I walk alone?" I think the answer is listed above... Would I have had any of these experiences, had I been in a romantic relationship? No. I would have gone to my boyfriend's house when I was robbed. I would have been too reserved to rock out like a maniac at that first concert. I wouldn't have talked to anyone, especially not musicians, in case my man got jealous. I would have been an amazing girlfriend, but it wouldn't have made me into the incredibly confident, and quirky, strong woman that I am today. So, while I still have those lonely times in my life, I wouldn't trade this time of growth for anything.
 

Lesson's Learned

Throughout my life, I've always had this tendency to get really excited about the possibility of something wonderful, that ended up disappointing me. It happens a lot with men, but let me give you an example of something non-relationshipy.

When I was a teenager, about to get my license, my dad helped me look for a car. I had a little money saved up, and my dad and I went out to look at pretty much every car listed in the IWANNA at the time. Each one that we looked at, I would find something that I just "loved" and I would get really excited. I'd start building a fantasy while my dad talked engine quality and oil leaks. We looked at some real clunkers, but I'm an expert at fixating on the silver lining, even when it's actually a rust spot. So we would look at each car for about half an hour, by the end of that time, there were two very different reactions. I was bubbling with excitement, because I had already envisioned this car and I cruising into the sunset with white picket fences on either side of the road, and 2.5 kids in the backseat. My dad, on the other hand, was a real Eeyore about the whole thing. "No." he'd say, "This one's got too many problems. Let's go look at this other one." I'm not exactly sure how long this process of raised hopes, and rejection went on, but to my teenage brain, it felt like by the time we actually found a car that met my dad's approval, I'd be collecting social security. I became numb to the whole process, eventually. We almost didn't get my dream car, a 1990 Acura, Integra, because I was actually afraid to show that I loved it as much as I did. I assumed that as soon as I showed interest, he would veto that one too. Thankfully, my mom stepped in and told him the way that I was feeling, and that I would have been stoked no matter what.

What did I learn from that experience? Not everything that I needed to. I've gone through some very painful situations that involved me, thinking that I knew what was best, and being let down. 

I've loved boys that lied. I used to go into relationships with the same gooey enthusiasm that I had for those rust spots. Thinking that no one was perfect, and who was I to judge. Then when they would shatter my heart, a few months later, I was left stunned. "Why did You let me go through that if You knew this would happen?" I would cry out to God and wonder what I was supposed to learn from this most recent heartbreak. Honestly, there are still some situations that I don't understand. I think that's the point though. We have to live right now. We don't know what our future's hold. God does. Just like my earthly father knew that a fan belt would break a few miles down the road, my Heavenly Father knows what will happen to me. The longer that I live, the more I pray before. Before what? Everything. When I interviewed for my job, I prayed "Not my will, but Yours be done." When I see a guy that strikes my fancy, "Not what I want, Lord. You know what's best for me." I still get disappointed, because, let's face it, we live on earth, and there is a lot of disappointment here. Now when something doesn't work out the way I want, I cry a little, and then I pray: "I can't wait to see what you've got planned for me that will top the door that just slammed in my face." 

"All things work together for the good, for those who love God, and are called according to His purpose."

~Romans 8:28

God and my sex life

This weekend, I had a conversation with God. Not one of those times when you pray and you see His answer in your life, but an actual conversation. This is how it went...

It's two o'clock in the morning on a Friday night, I had just finished dancing with some of my girlfriends and was heading home to my nice warm bed, when I got a text message. The invitation was flattering, exciting, and familiar, all at once. You see, this attractive man and I had a history. We'd sent each other these kinds of late night messages before, and used each other for friendly comfort in the past. 

Let me say that I'm not necessarily proud of this past behavior. I had been divorced for about a year and a half, the first time this man and I "connected". In my marriage, there were some skewed views of sex and I had left that relationship feeling a bit like Pavlov's dog: manipulated, no sense of self, and drooling every time some idiot rang a bell. In walked this really nice, sexy, intelligent guy that wanted to take me home. So yeah, I had sex with a guy that I wasn't married to. I should probably spout a bunch of stuff saying that it was a mistake and it left me feeling empty, but that's not how it happened. I felt really confident for the first time since my ex had started abusing me. I realized that there was no correlation between being abused and being "loved". I knew in my body and soul that I was worth someone's love. This is not everyone's path, but it was mine.

What did I do when this man messaged me, Friday? I said "not now". I told myself that I was just feeling grody at the moment, and we could "get together" some other time. The next morning, I woke up berating myself: "What the heck were you thinking?!? You could have gotten laid last night!" All day, I had these thoughts running through my head, and I really couldn't grasp what had come over me! I mean, I really liked this guy! All I would have had to do was drive to his house instead of mine, and I could have gotten rid of some of the stress I'd been carrying, but I said no! Sheesh!

Today, I got up and went to church, still a little baffled. I'm sitting there, listening to the message, and God just pops in my head! He says, "Why did you say no to that man, Candace?" and I'm all "I just wasn't feeling it, Lord... Wait a minute! Why are we talking about this? This is embarrassing, and not something I really want You looking into". He comes back with "I knew when you were with him before, and I did not judge you. I have not changed. So why did you say no to him this time?" At this point, I'm practically blushing as I reply "You know me, you know my heart, you know why I said no." With wisdom in His voice, he says "Ah, I do know, but do you?" I'm sunk! I have no idea why! I had been racking my brain for a reason I would turn this guy down, and nothing was coming to me! All of a sudden, it was like being in the eye of the tornado. All of the thoughts and excuses were whirling around me, and there I sat in silence with the epiphany that God granted to me. "I want Your best, God. I want the one that You're preparing for me. Why eat the rotting fruit laying on the ground, when You are preparing a magnificent feast, just for me? I want to obey You. Your will be done."

I'm still not sure how I feel about discussing my sex life (or lack there of) with my Heavenly Father, but maybe that's the point. Should I be involved in something that I don't want to discuss with my Creator? I've been a Christ follower for 22 years, and He still amazes me, and helps me grow in Him, every day. I know that I am a stronger person than I have ever been. I know that I would not be as strong without faith in an ever-loving, never-changing God.

I don't know why I felt compelled to share this story. It's not like me to be so public about something like this. Maybe there's someone out there that will benefit from my experience.

Suck

     It seems like a lifetime since I wrote my last post. So much has happened since then, I don't know where to begin... I suppose I'll start with tragedy, move on to confusion and unbalance (which is where I am now), and hope for some sort of happiness or clarity to be found in all this.
     Last February, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. At first, I didn't even call him. He had not been a significant part of my life since I had been about thirteen or so. We had a pretty rocky and hard headed relationship, primarily I guess, because we were so similar in our stubbornness and the way that we handle stress. There had been times in those fourteen years of distance that I had tried to reach out and build a relationship, but I grew quickly tired of trying to force him into something that he seemingly didn't want. When he and my mom divorced a few years ago, things seemed to get better. We saw him once a year at Denny's on Christmas, and received birthday cards and sometimes even a call. The distance didn't seem to bother us at this point, because we were already used to it. At some point in the year before he was diagnosed, he married again, without even a courtesy phone call to his children. Within a few months of his union, he realized that it had not been his smartest decision, and he literally ran away from his second wife. Unfortunately, they reunited again. I'm not sure when this reunion happened, but I assume it had everything to do with the cancer. Anyway, I was bitter when I heard through the grapevine that he had been diagnosed. I dug in with both heels and said that if he wasn't man enough to tell us himself, than he must not care if we knew. I struggled with the example that I had been setting for my younger brother and sister, but I just felt like I couldn't take the risk of being hurt anymore. Then it happened. I remember the moment vividly. I was washing my car, and suddenly I felt as if I was being slammed against the rocks by continuous waves of pain, loneliness, misunderstanding, grief, hopelessness, and helplessness. I had a breakdown at the car wash, and realized that my dad must have been feeling so scared and lost, and that if it was the last thing I did, I could reach out one more time. For about nine months, I had my daddy back. He told me that he wanted a relationship with his kids, but he had always been stupid in knowing how to go about having one. We talked on the phone and he had me in tears several times by saying things like he was proud of me, that I was beautiful, that he couldn't believe that he had such amazing children. Did I cry because he was dying? Nope. I cried because I had never heard those things from my father. I was an adult woman that had already been married and divorced because I couldn't recognize the warning signs of a boy in man's clothes. I said that I didn't need a man to dote on me, or shower me with affection, because I was independent and strong. In reality, I paid a lot more attention to my daddy's example than I should have. I thought passive-aggression and emotional abuse were normal interactions in male-female relationships. I certainly wasn't conscious of these thoughts, but they were there, none the less. We built some good memories in that last year, talking of books we had read, trips we'd been on, of intentions for a future that he wouldn't be here for.
     During this time, I fell in love. I had met *Guy at work three days before he moved back to his hometown, three hours away. We exchanged social media information, and became distant friends. I met up with him and his girlfriend when they were in town, and had accepted the fact that we were just friends. About three months after my dad's diagnosis, I get a call from Guy. He's thinking of moving back to the area, and wondering if I could look some people up in the database at work. No problem, I say. I would do that for any friend. Guy starts calling and/or texting me everyday. He and his girlfriend had broken up amicably a few months before. We started building this beautiful, intelligent, funny relationship. I'd never been part of something that felt like equal footing. He wasn't asking me to change, he loved that I was independent, he liked taking part in dumb conversations between my sister and I. He even threatened to come take care of me because I wanted a milkshake while I had a cold. All these little things built to the point that they were big enough to knock down the massive walls that I had constructed around my heart. I couldn't wait for him to be here. He had pursued me, and I was caught. The last time I talked to Guy, we were making plans of scary movies, and the dinner that he wanted to cook for my sister and I. He would be here in a week's time. That week never came. He stopped talking to me as suddenly as he had started. The first few days of silence, I figured he was just super busy with last minute preparations, or that he had packed his phone by accident, all those little lies that you believe when your mind is trying to tell you that it's over. To this day, I don't know what happened. He didn't move. Every once in awhile he'll "like" one of my pictures or statuses, even though we haven't been friends since week two of the silent treatment. Guy's absence is something that I still struggle with.
     The most recent events that have transpired are the fact that my dad's wife cut us out of the last three months of his life. She didn't even allow us to go to his funeral when he passed three weeks ago. I wonder what his thoughts were those last months. I pray that he knows the truth now, that no matter what, we always loved him. He is in a better place, but I'm struggling. I can't seem to regain balance. I've been avoiding my friends. I pretend that I'm happy, but most of it is farce. I feel hollow and fake almost all the time. I have a very real fear of never being able to trust anyone again. My best friends don't know that I've been crying myself to sleep and that most days, all I want to do is sleep. Nothing sounds fun now, it all feels like I'm just trying so hard to be me again, and I don't know how. Nothing that brought me joy in the past, is even slightly appealing now. I've cried the last two Sundays in church because I feel lost and drained like I've never felt before. I'm heartbroken on so many levels, it feels as if I may never heal. There's no way that I could get up in the morning without the relationship that I have with God. He is my rock, my shelter, and the only place that there is true rest for the weary. I feel like that relationship is strained now as well, because I don't have the words. I have no words to express the pain that I'm feeling right now. I feel alone and pointless. I just want to be me again.