This week will mark the two year anniversary of my blog, Crying Over Spilled Milk. For those of you that have joined me in this journey, let me take a moment to say thank you. It has been quite a rollercoaster we have been on these past couple of years, hasn’t it? A few downs, many ups and a couple of “I think I’m going to puke” moments. But somehow, through it all (even the poop stories) you have stuck by my side through the stink; laughing with me, crying with me, pitying me, but most importantly you’ve been praying for me. Your compassion, understanding and love means more than you know. So thank you, thank you, thank you!
Let’s recap this journey, shall we?
The tale began with a divorce; a divorce that crooked me into a cynic; a divorce that made me question God; a divorce that turned my world upside down and broke my heart into a million pieces. Two years ago, I didn’t comprehend why I had to go through all that heartache. I couldn’t wrap my arms around believing anything good or just ever coming out of such a travesty. At such a young age, I found myself alone, frail and broken, grieving a relationship that ended up being a great disappointed to both parties involved. My heart told me it wasn’t fair. My mind told me I didn’t deserve it. God told me nothing because I refused to listen.
I was bitter and angry. It felt good to put the blame on my Ex’s shoulders. But mind you, I had guilt. Crazy guilt. The kind of guilt that crept in and consumed my mind in the most silent of nights. But I wasn’t ready to face it. Medicating myself with anti-depressants, working until all hours of the night and slipping further and further into a state of apathy seemed to be the only treatment to alleviate the ache in the pit of my stomach.
Starting this blog helped me process what had happened to me only a few months before. Writing down my thoughts and sharing them with people who actually seemed to care is what initiated the learning and growing process for me.
I learned that in the moments when you are unabashedly bawling your eyes out is when you receive the most clarity. I learned in the silence and in the lonely nights how to enjoy myself, for once. I learned that it’s hard to forgive people but it’s even harder to forgive yourself. I learned that once you reach forgiveness for someone else, it gives you an indescribable joy and peace and I’m hoping to one day know how fully forgiving myself will feel. I learned that when I prayed but felt like God wasn’t even around, that Jesus heard my every word wept and he held me in his arms through it all. I learned that laugher can be the best medicine. I learned asking people for their opinions doesn’t always feel good and sometimes can hurt deeper than you thought. I learned to trust in God’s providence. I learned that it’s okay to grieve hurt, even if it’s self inflicted. I learned how to take the blame for my own actions and release the burden off of people’s shoulders that didn’t deserve to carry it on their own. I learned that I hurt many people deeply. I learned the pain of recognizing it all.
But, I now know all those tough lessons were preparation leading me to a deeper understanding of the love of our Heavenly Father and into the arms of a man I thank God everyday for. There are times when I am sitting with my husband, watching him laughing at a funny T.V. show, helping with the dishes or carefully concentrating as he shaves his beard and I silently thank God for my previous divorce so I never take for granted the love he and I share. Through God’s precious grace, I have been giving a second chance at a beautiful family. He has blessed me with Buckethead and two amazing step-kids. I now have the love of three very special people who build me up, encourage me and love me despite my flaws. He has turned this story that was once a tragic one into a beautiful love story.
I am anxious to see where this story of my life heads. All I know is that I have a great partner in life who I have committed my heart and soul to that I can’t wait to go through this ride with. Maybe one day, Crying over Spilled Milk will have an entirely different connotation (I’m talking babies, people!) for Buckethead and me. But, where ever this road leads us, I will remember to be thankful for all of it. You live, you learn. You cry, you learn. You loose, you learn. You love, you learn.