You Were Meant For Me.

I hear the clock, it's six a.m.
I feel so far from where I've been.

You can find me here.

if...

If I had another chance, I would do it differently.
(Maybe that's the point of the entire exercise?)





When I have another chance, I will do it differently.
I think that's the point of the entire exercise.

this time of year

I hate this time of year. I haven't always, but I do now.
-------------------
I am filled with yearning for things I cannot have.

I want to have a conversation with my Mom.
I wish I had my old life back.
I miss who I used to be.

C is for change

I've moved more this year than I ever have before. Like most people, I don't particularly enjoy it. (Although I am particularly good at packing and organizing. Just saying.) I am learning to embrace all of the things that make up my new life, but I have to be honest: some days, I look around and say, "how on earth did I end up here?" Not that here is a bad place, it's just a change. A big change.

For me, change is hard and always has been. Natalie Grant sings, "It's hard to stand on shifting sand" and she's right. Jesus spoke of building on the solid rock, the only thing that is for sure for sure-him. He is a jealous god who demanded change of me, in me.

I'm learning.

right now.

I'm sad.

bald facts

so. i'm going to be forty in fewer years than i'd like to admit. no matter what, god willing. i'm going to be forty in not-so-many years.

i ask myself this:
will i be happy if i'm doing then what i'm doing now? if nothing in my life changed, would i be satisfied?


the answer is a resounding "no."


so then it's time for baby steps.
i gotta take baby steps to get to where i want to be.

phew.
there was a time, not so long ago, when i was not capable of looking forward. not at all. it's not that i didn't want to, it's that i couldnot. i didn't have the ability. that may not surprise some of you, but just now, justnow, i am able to see how far i have come. praise god for the healing he brings.

and for the record, i'm not sleepy again. yet. again.
insomnia is gross. and mean.

update

Interview tomorrow.
Nerves are taking over.

He who began a good work...
For all things work together for the good...

Be at rest, O my soul; for the Lord has been good to you.
Psalm 116:7

I miss you.
Still.

the monkey's his uncle?

I miss getting dressed up.
Okay, scratch that. I miss getting dressed. I looked in a drawer with my jewelry in it and I thought, "oh earrings, I miss you." (See, one doesn't need earrings when laying [or is it lying?] about all day.)

I love the pageantry and the human interest stories presented in the Olympics. So much skill, talent and sacrifice for one race, one routine, one moment in time. (Cue the Whitney Houston song from the '88 Games.) Feel free to sing along with your cell phone illuminated and held aloft.

We took my soon-to-be ex-brother-in-law his belongings last weekend. He'd left a garageful of stuff at Jen's and was perfectly content to leave it there. Not as a "leave behind" (a la George Costanza), but just because he's lazy. And a first-class not nice guy. But in taking his crap to him, to his very nice apartment property on the other side of town, she lost 250 lbs. and got her name back.
Turd.
Him, not her.

I love the high bar in men's gymnastics. So much power and strength. Amazing.

Speaking of amazing power and strength, Stephen moves to Houston on Saturday.

Heather 2.0

I've been back from paradise for about a week now and I am so thrilled that I had the chance to go. I loved being with Michele and her family. She is a wonderful woman and I admire her a great deal. I love her deeply.

Being back here reminds me, not that I ever truly forgot, that I have some Decisions to make. I need to work. I've never gone this long without working since I turned sixteen. It's been great to have some time to relax and hang out with my sister and just BE. It is good. I am, however, out of the habit of working and that is no bueno. I will likely take the rest of July off and then get back to business in August.
Yes. That seems like a good plan.
August.

My computer is driving me bananas. It doesn't know that it will get replaced in a hot minute. Oh, I guess I just told it. Ha. Take that, you machine you.

While I was in Puerto Rico I talked with Scott about taking life in a totally new direction and he gave me lots of good insight. I am more than a little overwhelmed at the choice that's in front of me. There are almost too many choices.

• should I go back to school?
• should I get a job in retail so I can just work and take a bit of a break?
• should I take more money out of my savings and not work until later in the fall?
• should I empty my savings and take a blowout trip and "find myself?" (kidding!) kinda.
• should I consider moving to a new city to start over?
• should I seek employment in student services at another university?

See what I mean? It gives me a headache.

I am currently staying at my sister's place. With her husband gone, it's good to be here with her. She doesn't particularly care for being alone so we are rooming together. I will move out of my Dad's sometime next week. He has a lot on his plate and I don't think he'll care one way or the other, but I need to let him know.

I have an ongoing battle in my dreams. I will dream of people from stages of my life long gone, including my Mom, and it's always disconcerting when I wake up to discern what is real and what isn't. Sometimes it's comforting. Sometimes it's upsetting. Always, I marvel at the power of my mind to immerse me in made-up worlds night after night, bringing together people from different parts of my life. It's strange.

When I lived in Arkadelphia, I allowed myself to be defined by my job. I loved my last position so much. I repeatedly called it the job that I was put on earth to do. When it became clear that my time at that job had come to an end, I was set far more adrift than I should have been. I was amorphous, without shape or form. As a believer, that is absolutely unacceptable. My job had become my idol, and now it makes sense that a jealous God removed it from me so that I could see him for who he is, the source of all my fulfillment.

There is another time that I clearly remember seeing an idol in my own life (not that there haven't been others, but this was a biggie) and it happened so quickly and so unobtrusively that I was stunned to see the situation for what it was. That time, it was a person, and that person was removed from my life. It hurt like hell. So much hurt. But it was the right thing, of course.

It hurts even still. Years later, the scar is largely healed but normal use of my heart reminds me of the injury. It's like it hurts just to remind me how far I've come. A tweak at the broken place to cause me to catch my breath and remember, just for a moment.

everything is easier in the caribbean

I'm in Puerto Rico. I honestly can't remember how many days I've been here so far. It's strange. I arrived so early the day I did get here that that day seems like two or three (broken up by a shower before lunch and a nap afterwards). I'm all discombobulated.

This helps, though.


We went to Old San Juan today, the part of the city that surrounds the two forts that protected this island way back in the olden days. (how's that for a lack of specificity?) It was really remarkable and old. America is such a baby nation that seeing something that was five hundred years old was really amazing. My internal history major (who doesn't get much chance to come out and play) was in her glory today, reading all of the plaques and taking pictures like a tourist. (I do want to state for the record that I understand the Americas were settled and civilized long before Europeans arrived.)



I did have a bit of an incident though...I had a skirt on today. It was windy. The wind might have caught my skirt. I'm certain there was exposure. Yikes and Oops. Oh well.

I drove today! I went to the store all by myself! Granted, I didn't say anything to anyone beyond "hola" or "gracias" but I felt very international, even though Puerto Rico is a part of the US. No bubble bursting!

I haven't had much time to think since I've been here. It's been so great to catch up with Michele and Scott and their precious, amazing girls and I don't want to miss any of that. There will be time to spend with my thoughts, I am sure. They are pesky little buggers.

one less. (but this isn't about the hpv vaccine)

and though you don't believe that they do
they do come true
for did my dreams come true when i looked at you
and maybe too, if you would believe,
you too might be
overjoyed
over love
over me.

and though the odds say improbable
what do they know?
for in romance, won't you let me take a chance?
and maybe with a chance you will find you too, like i,
overjoyed
over love
over you.

the sadness washes over me at the most unexpected times.
while packing my books tonight i was reminded of silly things that make leaving here hard.
you know what, though? staying is hard too. there are so many ghosts here. they are everywhere. in this house. in my little house on phillips street. memories of people who are long gone. times that are long over.
this time of year does it, too. i try to think of other things, other than june. this year has been better than many others, but it shows up when i am sleeping. crazy dreams of makeups and breakups...it makes me mad then it makes me sad. a failure of the most public kind.

a friend of my father's called him the other day to ask how he's doing and he asked to speak with me. he teased me about being single, still. it was all good-natured fun, but it stung a little bit then and it stings a little bit now. i am feeling particularly morose this evening. i have a bajillion things left to pack, yet i sit here, writing this cryptic post, knowing full well that the one person i want to read it, won't. damn.

my heart is heavy right now. heavy for people i know who are carrying burdens much, much heavier than mine. heavy for a husband who is terrified he's going to lose his wife. heavy for a wife who is terrified of her husband's secrets. heavy for a whole host of people carrying burdens all on their own.

i need some help. i bet you do too.

shift.

Today was my last day at Ouachita. It kind of came up much sooner than expected--my father took a tumble yesterday and broke his hip--and I realized this morning that I needed to be with my sister. My father's wife is away and the thought of my sister dealing with all of this stuff on her own helped me to realize that with my family is where I needed to be. As I write this I'm sitting in Jennifer's room...the room she grew up in...the room that I'll call home for the next, oh who knows how long. So I woke up today in Arkadelphia, in my bed and I'm going to lay my head down tonight in Spring, TX, just outside of Houston. I am a boomerang child. Oh, I left home alright but I keep.coming.back. Like a bad penny.

There was so much to think about as I drove home today. It was a warm day, but a good day for windows-down driving. Since I wasn't speeding, I didn't have to watch for the po-po like I sometimes do. I mostly thought about these last six and a half years in Arkadelphia. I am struggling with feeling like a huge failure, honestly. I feel like I couldn't get my self together enough to be okay there. (What is "okay?" What does that even mean?) I don't know what it is, but I sure know what it isn't, and that's what I've been.

It will be hard to leave Arkadelphia. It will be hard to come back here and make a life for myself that feels intentional and mine. There are more questions than answers. Have I mentioned how little I enjoy uncertainty? I was listening to music as I drove the oh-s0-familiar roads between 77379 and 71923 and I cried and prayed and lashed out. I found solace in words sung by a long-time family friend, Rick Briscoe: I'll trust you Lord, with all my heart/Each step I take, I will trust you/All my ways will acknowledge you as Lord/Though I may not understand the purpose of your plan, I will trust you, I'll trust you Lord.

I'll trust you. That's seriously powerful stuff. I have trust issues. That may not come as much of a surprise to some of you, but it's true. I, like many women (and men too) have been burned by trusting in someone who didn't deserve my trust. This song reminds me that we have one main responsibility to the Lord, and it is obedience. And that means obedience even when it doesn't make sense. Or when it hurts. Or both.

So, here I sit, confused and hurting. Wanting to trust, needing to trust, but afraid. Jesus told a man whose daughter had just died to not be afraid and to just believe. Mark, ever the economist with words, records Jesus' words like this: Don't be afraid. Just believe. He asked that father to believe him, that he could and would do the impossible. And he did.

Okay. I'll trust you, Lord.

better than

Did you ever listen to the Stephen Curtis Chapman album For the Sake of the Call? There's a song on that cd called "You Know Better" and it's a catchy little ditty about how Christians can get easily caught up in comparing ourselves to one another. We curse but justify it by saying, "Well, at least I don't use the f word. I never use God's name in vain like Joe from Accounting does. See? I'm not that bad." If it's not cursing, then it's speeding, looking a little too long a website or magazine cover that does not honor our spouse or whatever. Insert your favorite sin here.

One of the lines to the song that has stuck with me since I first heard that song (in my freshman year of college!) is this: God wants our best and not our "better than...."

Shoot! That's much tougher! I can always make myself feel better by doing just better than someone else. I remember that that is not what our Savior asks (demands) of me, and I realize once again how much I have to learn about living in this world and contributing to his Kingdom. I am a comparer. I am. I often don't even realize that I'm doing it, but it lurks beneath the surface of my smile, waiting to boost my ego on paper stilts.

There's nothing quite as humbling as self-destructing. Even in slow-motion, the cracks and creaks of a life falling apart are deafening and unmistakable. Well, it's unmistakable if you're looking. If you are busy comparing yourself to the people around you, instead of at the throne where the Father is seated, it is easy to miss. That's pretty much where I am.

I could write a book on what's been happening in my life over the last forty months or so, but here's one of the things I've learned: healing from sorrow requires community. I don't mean to say that I haven't had good friends here, because I have. I understand the difference between having good friends and having community, a tribe where I belong. That, I haven't had. When I have been fortunate enough to get a hint of it, members of the tribe move on, as is a hazard on a college campus. I have struggled to find a balance between getting into the lives of students to minister to them and encourage them (which is something I am going to miss terribly) and letting them minister to me. The bottom line is that I just haven't had enough friends of my own to sustain me during this season of my life.

I would wonder why I can't be strong like my friend W. She's remarkable. She's so in control of her emotions and keeps things on a tight rein. I envy her that ability. Ultimately, her situation is different from mine and she does have close friends, girls and guys with whom she grew up, to support her. It's also worth noting that her emotional makeup is different than mine. I love her and she's fabulous...but we are different.

This doesn't make much sense. Oh well.

anxiety.

I'm anxious. Food doesn't taste especially good and I'm in a state of mild nausea forty-five minutes out of every hour. To put this in perspective (for those of you who know me even a little bit): I'm only on my second can of pop today and it's 11:00.

See?


I told you I wasn't feeling good.
(I have read that those words were inscribed on someone's headstone. That's funny and I don't care who you are.)

stability

I'm a big fan of stability and permanence. I prefer to accept change after looking at it coming from a distance. I like to know it's on the horizon and that it is slowly but surely getting closer. Let me be the first to admit that that is a luxury rarely afforded. I understand that. I don't think life owes me any such warning. It would be nice, is all.

I wish things were the best of what they could be, particularly for my family.

Life is hard. God is good.