Yesterday was a hard day. To begin with the hem went out in one leg of my pants and I walked around for a good two hours with the left pant leg to my Capri’s 4 inches longer than the other. What is it with the smiling happy people that surround you who claim to be your friends, yet fail to tell you when you have a giant tree branch stuck in your tooth, a booger hanging out of your nose, or I don’t know….one pant leg that’s longer than the other?? Did they get secret pleasure in the illusion of one of my limbs being significantly longer than the other? Thankfully, the sweet temp (yes temporary employee, who’s only known me for what, 5 minutes?!) informed me of my clothing malfunction and I was able to correct the hem with an entire roll of scotch tape before my big meeting.
Yes, I have been guilty of this travesty as well. I have sat across from a dear friend with the biggest piece of pepper smack dab in the middle of her two front teeth that made her look like a snagle-toothed hillbilly, yet I failed to say anything to her, allowing her to be victim to awkward looks from the super cute waiter that quickly decided to focus his attention all on me (what?! Purely coincidence people!). I’m sure if she would have known she would have stabbed me with her dessert fork, but instead I allowed her to get in her car after we embraced and probably find it herself in the console mirror moments later, giving me the one finger wave out her window.
And this only started my crappy day. Confidantes, no day is a good day when you have to conversate with your ex and yesterday happened to be one of those days. It’s not hate that makes it a horrible event, its memories. It’s a reminder that the person you once called your spouse, doesn’t know you anymore, doesn’t want to know you anymore and doesn’t care about your current struggles because “the bitch had it coming”. There are ramifications to being divorced, one of those being every 3-4 months (especially in the first few years) something rises to the surface that requires communication between the two former mates. That happened yesterday, no need to bore you with what it was regarding, the point is I had to communicate with the ex and for me at least, it’s an emotional thing…still. And before you go there, yes I am over him. Yes, I know he’s married and no I don’t want him back…trust me.
No emotion was in the brief exchange, but there was a one liner that brought up feeling in me. Remember, I haven’t spoken to him in months, when he said his vows I knew it was no longer my place. These three words at the end of our final email exchange may not mean anything to you but they did to me – Best of Luck. Best of Luck? I could feel the blood drain from my face as I re-read the simple words over and over again. Sure, I’m not expecting (nor wanting) a “I love you and always will” sign off, but “Best of Luck”?? How impersonal, final and eerie is seeing that from a person, once upon a time you promised forever with.
I have fully accepted the fact that I’m divorced and have come so far in the past year. I am in love with an amazing man that I hope to have a long and happy life (until he is so old, I have to stick him in a nursing home—KIDDING) with. But, I’m obligated to you (my faithful readers) to tell you when I hit a little speed bump and yesterday was definitely a speed bump. And, no this was no the end to my bad day….read on, oh faithful ones….
So Mark and I both had to deal with our exes yesterday (that’s a completely other story that I would love, love LOVE to tell you, but I have to get permission from Marky-poo first. He tends to think my stories can be just a bit melodramatic, silly mark). Anyways, we decided to go work off some steam and had a great workout.
“You pick the place, babe”, I say-after all it is your wallet we will be using. He pulls up probably to the worse place he could have picked on a day like the day I had yesterday. Stucking it up, I went in had a club sandwich and thought about the last time I was in this chain restaurant. I think about how cold and bitter I was over a year and a half ago as I sat across from the man who had hours before told me “Best of Luck”. The man who I informed I had filed for divorce as he sat grief stricken across from me and my potato soup back then. I hadn’t returned to this place, until yesterday. I could sense the tears swelling behind my eyes but I managed to keep them in check, until my lovely boyfriend told a story that catapulted me to a bloody mess of tears and snot.
I had gone home to visit the family and missed church at Bent Tree on Sunday. Mark told me of the message Pete delivered, as I threw any benefit to the exercise I had just completed, munching on the crispy bacon on my sandwich. Basically, he told me that the message was on trusting God. How we fail to trust God because we really don’t believe/trust that God loves us just as we are. Well, that did me in.
As the tears began to fall, I knew that message was exactly how I felt. I use to say I was mad at God, as a cop-out, when really I was so ashamed of who I was. The problem with God is you can’t hide anything from him. He doesn’t know me from the blog I write, from the story I have rehearsed of my divorce-he knows EVERYTHING. It’s a pretty frightening thing, especially when your everything is pretty ugly. I too often, lie in bed and think there is no way God could love such an ugly heart. It’s a battle I fight daily. Knowing God’s word, but failing to believe it for my life. I didn’t trust God to heal my marriage, so I took my own path, doing what I thought was the right thing because deep down, I didn’t believe God really loved me. You can get use to feeling numb. It all came tumbling down. All the hurt, the hurt I have caused, the nothingness I felt and the relationship with God I am so desperate to recover. In the daily routine, it so easy to push it all away and deal with jobs, dinner and TV. You can forget it for moments but they will come back.
I understand one day, this will all be a distant memory. Something I look back on and have trouble remember what I felt, how I felt and the decisions I made that forever affected my life and the lives of others. There will come a day, where I will no longer hold on to the guilt that still faintly haunts me in my moments of weakness. But, yesterday was not that day. Yesterday was a day that I hurt again. A day my sins showed up to bite me in the arse and remind me of my failure to trust in God. It wasn’t the loss of B that made me mourn yesterday, it was the loss of the hope I walked down the aisle and made a commitment to trust in at an early age. Sometimes I think the divorce has been harder due to the fact I am a Christ follower. It gives you a shame and guilt that I don’t think other’s have to experience. That has been the worst part. Yes, it was horrible that I let my spouse down, but what is so much worse is I let God down. That’s the thing I have trouble handling. Grasping- understanding how to get over.
I do know that God has his hand over me; I can see it with the immeasurable blessings he has given me. In my relationships, the mending of my heart and his unfettering love that I can amazingly still feel despite my disappointment to him. My faith will continue to grow and I will see the big picture in God’s plan for my life. I will understand his love is unchanging and I will believe for myself. I can already see it now.
And on top of it all, I watched this show on animal planet last night about whalers and I watched in shear horror a whale die. It was so disgusting; I secretly wished bodily harm to the Japanese who were malicious in their hunt. I would have liked to kicked them in the head with my cowboy boot and said “This is for Pearl Harbor and for the Whales, you commi bastards!”.
Okay, that’s enough for now….until next time.