The Guild

On Sunday night, Kirk came over to host the meeting of "The Guild" in his parents basement. I went down there, uncertain what it was. My aunt said she didn't know what it was, but it was a meeting of "artistic type people". So I arrive down there and Kirk says "Are you going to share?"

Apparently it's this really awesome thing, where these Christian artists of various media come together to share and build up each other, using encouragement to promote use of their gifts.

It was started out by a man who shared a monologue on the nature of humans, and whether selfish pursuits were evil. Then another man shared some instrumental guitar music he'd written. Then my cousin shared a song he'd written, words and guitar. Then his girlfriend sang a partial song she'd written on the piano. Then I think I went, and I shared a poem from this blog, actually, from November 8, 2008 which I'll put again here:

Saturday, November 8, 2008
Rough Poetry and Raw Truth
I am not who I want to be. Self has too much of a hold on me. I struggle and then I gasp as the struggle sends me flying like a door you lean on with all your strength until someone opens it and you sprawl across the floor.

I am tired, fatigued and I think that's not right. I smile but I frown when I think about my life. I know it won't stay the same, it can't, can they sustain the change that's coming? Not that I know the hows and wheres and I only think I sniff a whiff of the what that might be coming.

I am growing beyond this, I think, though not at a rate that doesn't leave me crying in disappointment. I hope it's only getting humbled, not true and abject failure. I yearn to not forget the who I've vowed to be. Maybe I will earn the death I ask for...

No, that statement is made in the ignorance of the moment just past. I know I earn nothing, I do nothing, I just am. Yet I am loved for being simple, unadorned. I am important, but not treasure. Not yet. Maybe never.

Little lumpy me, I will try to throw mySelf into the fire. And if I fall out, to brave it again. Oh scorch me, Light, scorch me! Try me and do not let mySelf win! Please, till it is only pure ore refined.
Search me, my truest Friend, know me, and Miracle-Existant love me, I dare to hope, love me

How weak I am!

Then I called on a new mom of a five month old baby, who said she didn't have anything, but she created him, right? :) Then another woman shared panels she had painted, quite beautifully, a single piece of artwork done on three canvas panels. Then the young mom's husband shared the vision he had for a short film he and his two brothers are making. He's roughed out a first draft of the screenplay, one of the brothers is doing a soundtrack, and I forget what the other one is doing, I think he might have helped write it and he says they've picked out a lot of costumes and such. The next step is storyboarding it and editing the dialogue because he's not happy with it. He says he'll be surprised if it's done in six months, but it sounds like maybe he'll have filmed it a year from now.

That was everybody, but then two latecomers came. Neither of them had anything to share I think, but a few of them chose to reshare their work with the newcomers.

It was pretty awesome. I've tried writers workshops, but what I liked about this was a) the various media and how it wasn't so much as your style or whatnot as it was that you were using the gifts God gave you and b) that it was all positive feedback, all for building up as the Scripture says because it was all Christians. I suppose c) would be that it was a Christian artists group, not just because of the spirit of positive encouragement, but because none of the art was offensive or negative. Most of it was directly to his glory (like my poem) though some of it was indirectly to his glory, like the panels. They were quite beautiful in a floral pattern, something I'm sure she did to glorify God, but the work could also have been done by a nonbeliever.

I'm thinking it would be awesome to start a group like that in Spartanburg, but I'd want it to be His Will. If I did, I'd call it "Soli Deo Gloria" which means "All for His Glory" and is what Bach put on all his work. The Guild meets once a month, on a Sunday night. I think a once a month format would be awesome, though the day could be TBA. Plus, I know there is a group in Spartanburg that calls itself the Artist's Guild and this would make it less confusing. :)

Cousins on Fascination Drive

Or was it avenue?

Today I woke up about 7:30 when my aunt was bustling around, about to go work. But I just read and then later when my uncle came home I went to the International House of Prayer with him. He asked me if I wanted to go the church service, which is Bible teaching mainly and has about 1200 attendees, or going to the 24/7 prayer room, which is emptier than normal on Sunday afternoon. I picked the prayer room.

We stayed for about an hour and a half. It was wonderful. As soon as I walked in, I felt something there, you know? But I wasn't sure if it was God. I was totally open, but wary. But it definitely was. It took a while for me to really get into it, and He started by humbling me. Most of what happened I am still 'pondering it in my heart'. But I probably will share on here before I share with many.

Then we came home, and had lunch, pizza, after my aunt got home at about 1. At 3 or so, my cousin Matthias came over. I have two cousins living out here, both sons of this aunt and uncle. They have three sons, but the eldest lives in NJ.

So Matthias came over, and I had been told the plan was that he and I would hang out and reconnect while my aunt and uncle went out with my other cousin Kirk and his girlfriend for coffee. Only apparently Matthias wasn't aware of this, and thought we were all going off and started pouting. I only tell you this, because I am trying not to say things that do not build up, because I am sharing the obstacle I am praying to overcome so that he and I can connect as Christians.

I had worried about awkwardness when I met with my aunt and uncle yesterday, but it wasn't there. And I was just excited to see my cousins, especially Matthias, because having talked to my aunt and uncle yesterday about them, Matthias and I sounded like we'd have a lot in common. But apparently he is reserved and wouldn't even meet my eye. He looked at the dog, his phone, but not me. I sat trying to catch his eye for like ten minutes! I'm not saying he's socially awkward, just very reserved. He wasn't looking to connect and it made me sad. So I'm praying about it.

Because of Matthias's disappointment, his parents called his brother and so we all went out for coffee (well I got chai tea). They are crazy! We went to this coffee house called "JPs" which is on Fascination Drive, a name that one of my cousin pointed out sounded like a bad show the CW might put on. They all talked and I fidgeted, trying to get into the shade (which didn't exist) because I didn't have my sunscreen in my purse. So now I will be even more colorful, and I'm the darkest this summer I've ever been. I have freckles! That's never happened.

Then Kirk and his girlfriend went their separate way from us and Matthias came back and we all ate dinner together. Then he went home and now I'm watching tv with my aunt and uncle. Later Kirk has a meeting in his parents basement of "the guild". I'm not really sure what that is, except it's a meeting of some sort between artistic folk.

I don't know what I'm doing tomorrow, but on Tuesday a Korean friend of my aunt is coming over and they are making apple pie, and on Thursday night I'm invited over to Matthias's to hang with him and his friends. Maybe I'll make some Christian headway then? I am going home on the 9th, in the evening. It is official.

The Trip to Kansas City

Lydia and I left Spartanburg Thursday morning at 8:45 and I got to my aunt and uncle's house probably around five or six yesterday (Saturday). First, a brief synopsis of the journey:

Thursday:
Having eaten breakfast at my friend's house, we only made one rest stop before briefly having lunch in a Taco Bell about half an hour past Knoxville.

We'd completely avoided traffic and delays and were probably a good two hours ahead of schedule when we got to Nashville and missed our exit. We saw it, but we just couldn't get over fast enough. So we had to do a secondary way, that led us to the same place but through bumper to bumper traffic. Which wouldn't have been so bad except it was on a road where many other highways seem to be constantly merging and everyone (especially giant 18 wheelers) kept changing lanes for no apparent reason. We felt we'd almost been creamed like three times, but God protected us.

The car did something weird at one point, and we pulled over. Lydia checked the oil, and that wasn't it. So we just decided to use either the AC or the stereo and not both and that seemed to solve it.

Even so, we were still way ahead of schedule when we got near her aunt's house in Kentucky. So much so that we decided to randomly stop at a garage sale we saw.

We got to her aunt's house at 4:30 Central time. Her aunt wasn't expected to be home, but she had told my friend where she hid a key. We were there for about half an hour until I realized something... I didn't have my wallet!

Lydia's aunt's house in Kentucky.

The last time I had remembered seeing it was at the Taco Bell, as I'd not used it at the garage sale. I figured it was either at the Taco Bell, the side of the highway where we stopped to check the car, or the garage sale. Since the Taco Bell was the only place I could hope to call, we hoped it was that. We tried several methods to get the number, but finally we found the reciept. It didn't have the area code on it, but we were able to obtain it and called and, Praise Jesus! it was there! You can't get on a plane without ID anymore and I'm supposed to be flying home. They agreed to use some of the money in it to pay for postage and are mailing it to my aunt and uncle's house.
After that crisis was resolved, her aunt was home and we ended up going out to dinner. It was good, and then afterwards we sang together, then went to bed.

Friday:
We woke up and had breakfast, and hit the road by 8:45, again.

At 2:30 Central we still hadn't eaten and were near O Fallon, IL. Lydia met a pastor when she was in MO last time who lives there. He and she and I have been having a 3way email conversation about God and the Body of Christ and community. So we called him up, just in case he was free, and he was! So we had a two hour lunch at the "St Louis Bread Company" which is really Paneras.


Just after we left him, we made our biggest error. First, I read the map wrong. Then we turned around and my friend was saying how she should have listened to her gut and not my navigation. So then we get on the right road and I fold up the map and say confidently that we'll just stay on this for a while... and not five minutes later she says "aren't we supposed to turn here?" and before I can answer turns off. But of course, that means we were off the road AGAIN. So we decided that God had that happen so we were both humbled. :)

We'd missed the bypass, and had to drive through the heart of St Louis, which took a while but now we have really nice pictures of the arch.


We were finally in MO and it was pretty much smooth sailing. We got to the town right outside of my friend's camp, where she is working as a counselor this summer, and we'd not eaten dinner since we'd had such a light lunch. I asked if we should stop but she just wanted to go there. So we did.

It is very hot. :) Otherwise, it was pleasant and the people were wacky but nice. It was the last night of one camp session and so the other counselors were busy so my friend and I and her guitar, Sancho, went singing to the Lord. Later, we played with the campers, and then had a very late dinner and went to bed.

Saturday:
We woke up and had breakfast with the campers. Then my friend helped clean up and I went and packed up and sang unto the Lord. Then my friend and I went and sang in the chapel in the woods and played with Rex, the camp dog. But it was too hot for much singing and then it was really time to go. A fellow counselor decided to tag along. We were meeting my aunt and uncle half way, in Columbia, MO. We took 68 to 63 and 63 was supposed to take us all the way to Columbia, through Jefferson city. Apparently in Jefferson City you have to take three exits to stay on the same road? Not knowing this we continued on the same stretch of pavement, only apparently it was now 50! We realized this half an hour out of Jefferson City and had to turn around and therefore took an extra hour to meet up with my poor, patient relatives. My phone died just before we met with them.

Rex, the camp dog.

But meet with them we did, and they invited my friend and whoever she wants to bring to come visit whenever. I'm hoping she'll come next weekend... and bring my phone charger! :-P I found out when I got to their house that it wasn't amongst my baggage, so I'm guessing it fell out in her car. I know I had it when we left her aunt's house and I didn't touch it since then (hence my phone dying).

Then last night me and my aunt and uncle reconnected and shared fellowship as fellow members of the Body of Christ. It is awesome getting to know each other that way. We ate dinner and they went to bed by 9:30 because they're on weird schedules (like I'm ever on anything but, right?). I stayed up reading and bathed, but I think I fell asleep by 3 am, if not before. I know I was up at midnight when my uncle had to go to work.

Nail in the Foot

So this morning the goats got loose.

I run outside and try to lead them into the fence... and step on a nail. Goes right through my very thick sole.

OW!

My shoe is all bloody now...

I had no idea how much energy getting a nail in the foot takes out of you!

I love you, Lord!

I love God.

This is going to happen.

My aunt called and my uncle and I hashed a plan of where to meet (he's picking me up halfway between where my friend is spending the summer and Kansas City.)I asked about length of visit and I was told that I was totally welcome, and that God would work it out.

I love them.

After that, I called Lydia and discussed it with her. Then we fellowshipped, and she prayed with me.

It took a lot, but I brought it up with my parents. There was a lot of stress, but we decided I would come home to petsit. However, after Mom and Dad get back, they're willing to send me away again. To MO again if I need to go back, or to somewhere else if I want it.

Writing This Made Me Cry

So this is about the possible trip to Kansas City. I have a way. I have a place to stay. I don't have a way back yet. And I don't know how long, which is the real issue.

I really want to get out of my day to day. Not just a vacation though, but to really experience a different type of life, you know? I need to step out of the rut I'm in, so when I get back I won't fall back in. I just feel that's important. To that end, I want to go for three or four weeks.

I figured my parents would be okay with it. I'm staying with family (my father's sister) and they of course know about my fiance's death and I assumed they'd understand a need to get away. They were sort of okay with it. But then I mentioned I was thinking three or four weeks and my mother freaked out.

Why is she objecting? Apparently my father asked for his vacation time the week after the fourth of July. I'd be leaving for Missouri June 25th, so if I only go for two weeks I'd be back. And she was counting on me being their pet sitter while they go visit family in NJ.

First, I had no idea when his vacation was I just knew it was "sometime in July". Secondly, she never asked me. Third, since last year I had to stay home when they went to NJ to petsit I figured they would take me with them this year. I never agreed to do it this year, didn't even realize they were counting on it, but she is FURIOUS at the idea that I won't be here.

Mom says isn't two weeks enough? But I just don't think it will be! Maybe... but I don't think so. Dad says if I need time to reflect, having the house to myself while they're on vacation would be great. But that's not it at ALL.

The last thing I want is to be in this house by myself. It feels like I'm always in this house by myself. Or unconsciously insulting someone.

I can see Mom and Dad's side. I completely understand it and just wish they understood, or even tried to understand mine. They have no idea what PAIN (I've cried a lot) the pointing out I'm a burden caused. They have no idea how I'm feeling but if I tried to explain Mom would just say "I can't deal with this now!" because that's what she ALWAYS says. And if any emotion creeps into my voice, Dad will find something else to do right away.

Earlier we were talking about television and Mom said "but you had cable" talking about when I was at college. We recently got satellite for the first time, but before that we'd only had network. And I said that I never really watched much TV at school, that actually I remember being surprised about that freshman year until I came home for a while and realized why I watched so much TV at home. There was nothing to do. And Mom looks at Dad and says "see how she always has to put in those zingers?" like they were continuing some conversation they'd had when I wasn't there. And I protested. Yes, it sort of is a zinger, but it was also just the truth. I did think that when I came home freshman year. And I wasn't trying to say it to hurt anyone's feelings, but to express my own. But they weren't even listening.

Also just a few minutes ago, Mom came in from the porch, where Mom and Dad smoke (they both do, I don't) and also where the kittens live, and she reminded me to put the kittens up tonight. We put them in a kennel overnight so they're not left untended long enough to decide to get out and maybe get themselves killed. Forty-five minutes later, Dad comes in from his smoke break and says "You should put the kittens up". Every single night they come in from being on the porch to tell me that the kittens need to be put up NOW. In a perfectly normal tone and not at ALL meaning to have an attitude I logically, and not trying to start ANYTHING, asked why they didn't put them up if they thought about it. I mean, they're sitting there on the porch looking at the kittens and thinking "they should be put up" and then they come inside and tell me to do it. It takes just a second: pick up the two kittens, put them in kennel, close doors. Thirty seconds, max.

I really wasn't trying to complain! I simply thought it'd be easier for everyone if they did it when they thought about it because what happens is they tell me when I'm doing something, like blogging, and I have every intention of doing it but what if I lose myself in writing and forget?

But Dad freaked out and started yelling at me that they should just get rid of the kittens, that they are mine anyway.

Well, that's not true. Dad was actually the one who first said we should feed their mother, for one thing. Secondly, Mom loves them just as much as I do. And while the cream colored one, Devlin, is sort of mine, the other one is not. If when I move out I go somewhere where I can have two animals, I'll take Devlin with me. Otherwise, he's living with Mom and Dad for life and they know this and agreed with it.

But the fact that he had such an unprovoked outburst over this issue shows that he is NOT happy with me.

Living here, I am being tempted and sinning night and day. I envy anyone who lives where they can see people, even if it's just people walking down the street. There are no sidewalks and everyone has acreage and only leave their yards in cars. You never do more than wave to neighbors, and only that once a month maybe. I covet people with jobs and money, but at the same time I hate money, capitalism, and the whole system of our society. I complain far more than I'd like. The whole thing makes me angry, and I'm also afraid of being a burden. And that's on top of other issues I have.

I NEED TO GET OUT! I feel like I'm being destroyed. But if I try to tell Mom and Dad, try to make them understand, all they'll hear is "You are destroying me". Which isn't the case at ALL.

Most of what's wrong, I think, is lack of social interaction. I get out for a day or an evening and I feel like a human again. Then I come home and fall back into the gaping rut I'm in.

I'm both intraverted and extraverted. I've taken many versions of Myers Briggs, including an official one, but on some I'm one and on some another. And never a very high percentage of either one. Being intraverted means you get your energy from being alone. Being extraverted means you get your energy from being with people. I'm both. I need to have a balance, but pretty much since I graduated college I've been alone. Even when I was working, I was much better off but I didn't really socialize at work. Since I stopped, I get out of the house like twice or maybe three times a week. And two of those are going to the grocery store or something non-social like that. I talk on the phone, but everyone else but me has a life, so I don't have a lot of people to talk to. I get to Bible study maybe twice a month, and church less. I go out with one of my friends like three times a month, the friend I go to the walking trail with. If I didn't have her, I would have lost my freaking mind by now.

I'm just so STUCK right now. I love my parents. They are wonderful people. But my fiance just died and I feel like a failure and I just feel TRAPPED.

I love Eric, so very very much, but besides just getting over the unbelievable fact that I'll never talk to him again (which I'm still denial about) he was my stereotypical knight, coming to rescue me. I know that's so horrible, so not PC. I don't care. It was true.

In today's society to not be poor you're either a career woman or you're part of a two income household. You can't make it alone anymore, unless you're born rich or you are a devoted career person. And I'm so totally not.

I'm not saying I wanted to be a kept woman. Just a housewife, who homeschools her children while raising chickens for eggs, having a vegetable garden, writing, and making things like jewelry, chess sets, and furniture I can sell on the side. It's not that I don't want to work. It's that I don't want a job, and I don't want the unbelievable pressure of having to be the provider. I'm not a gold digger. I just wanted a husband who made enough to house us and feed us ramen noodles. What I made would be supplemental income. If we needed me to work to get by, we would, but it wouldn't just be me, you know? And even if I had to work a full time normal job, I wouldn't be alone. I'd have his support and love.

But now he's dead and any dreams I have are not ever coming true.

I hate this provide for yourself thing, but I don't want to be a burden. It's my biggest fear!
Which is so sinful (fear at all, it's a sin) and probably why God is making me be one right now. Humility and all that. I used to watch Dr. Phil when I was a sophomore in college and freak OUT during his moocher episodes. He brings these people, usually guys, who are like 26 and living at home with no job who have their parents do all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc and has the parents kick them out and tell them to grow up. And I could so see me being one those people and it freaked me out. Now, we're talking long before I graduated. My mom watched one of these with me and I explained my fear and she soothed me. She said the fact that I was so freaked out at the idea of being a moocher meant it just wasn't going to happen.

But it has!

And Dad strummed some major nerves. He said that since they're paying my bills and I don't have any money to go away with, then it was selfish of me to expect other people to take care of me. He implied both that I was horrible for even thinking about not being their pet sitter and also that I was being unfair and mean to my aunt asking her to take the burden of putting me for longer. I felt like crying right there. He'd called me on the porch to talk about the trip. He was doing it in his "put your foot down" voice, about me only going away for two weeks. While I was trying to figure out how to react, the animals made a strange noise and I ran inside, checking it out. I didn't go back out.

What does my aunt say about how long I should say?

I had facebooked her asking if the dates I'd be arriving were good, could someone meet me between where my friend is working in MO and Kansas City, could my friend visit us some weekend, and how long she thought I should stay. She facebooked me back saying it'd was good, my uncle would meet us, my friend was welcome to visit, I can stay as long as I need, and that I should call Sunday night.

I made the mistake of mentioning this note to Mom that and so the planned phone call became about ironing out how long I'd be staying instead of just discussing the trip in general. And as of such, my stress level in thinking about it jumped. I genuinely forgot to call. But I actually remembered in time to maybe call her (at about 11:30, and she said before it was ok to call late) but I didn't want to. I HATE calling people. I hate it. I'm only comfortable doing it when it's someone I talk to often. My aunt doesn't fit in that. She's still my family and I love her, but I've got all sorts of doubts now, caused by my parents.

My parents don't like to host people. Now, that doesn't mean they don't love to have guests. What it means is, it's a HUGE DEAL to have someone over. The planning for a visit starts months in advance usually, and at least the two weeks before we have a houseguest it's walking on eggshells in my house. During, my mom is a wreck that everything won't be perfect. So by the time they go, while they enjoyed seeing the friend or family member, they're wiped from stress. That's why it's not worth it to them to have houseguests more than twice a year... and actually I don't think it even happens that often!

So in Mom and Dad's eyes, I'm asking a HUGE burden of my aunt. And maybe I am. My dad knows my aunt better than I do. Like I said, we don't talk often. But she always extends invitations, and she said I can stay as long as I need to! Maybe she's just being polite, or making an obligatory gesture, but I don't think so. After all, she's from NJ. lol. People from New Jersey tend to be honest and blunt.

And they've been really supportive when they heard about my fiance's death. We've been chatting on facebook lately. Plus, they're the most Christian branch of my family. Of course, that could mean she's offering hospitality out of a sense of Christian duty... but I don't think so. Or if it is, it's a joyful duty, I think.

Mom and Dad are Christians, but Dad goes to church once a year if you drag him and expresses no other interest in fellowship, except privately with Mom sometimes. I grew up without fellowship, discovering it in college, and it is essential to a healthy Christian life. Mom only has it through me, Dad, and occasionally she goes to church but she doesn't build much of relationships there. One sister says she's a Christian but doesn't got to church and married a nonbeliever without even considering being unequally yoked. My younger sister is an atheist. I know my grandparents believe, and so does at least two my mom's sisters. I don't think my dad's brother does...

But the aunt I'd be staying with, dad's sister, is married to a preacher. Like I said, both of my cousins are involved in a ministry in Kansas City. And apparently the grandson that just graduated high school wants to be a youth pastor. But even though I know they're my "Christian side of the family" I don't really know them. So I really love the idea of getting to connect with them that way, to get to connect with blood family who are also strongly my family in Christ. Mom and I have had some good Christian moments, but that's all I've really had. I'm really looking forward to getting to know them better.

I suppose I could get to know them better in just two weeks. Maybe two weeks would do. But I don't think two weeks of new experience and fellowship followed by one week of the same old and isolation will work! I just don't. Maybe I'll have a blissful moment and coming home to being alone will be refreshing, time to plug into God without distraction. I can hope, but while that IS a possiblity, I think it's a small one. I feel too fragile right now. I just think any good done will be undone.

And I don't want to "dishonor" my mother and father. Though I realized long ago that "honor" and "obey" are seperate. Now, children are required to obey, but I'm not a child anymore or the fact that I'm not self sufficient wouldn't even be an issue.

But I also have to live with them! And I don't want to make them upset, or make it so they can't go on a vacation. To Mom, either I cut my trip short or they don't get a vacation at all. And that's just asking too much of them (as she sees it). I think that'd be asking a lot too, but I suggested hiring a professional pet sitter, but Mom freaked out even MORE, if you can believe it.

I didn't know, but when I was a child, a neighbor of ours who we asked to pet sit not only poked around our house, but also brought others into our house to show them it without our permission. This has scarred Mom against pet sitters. I pointed out that while that was horrible, she should hire a REPUTABLE, PROFESSIONAL pet sitter, not just ask a neighbor. But she just got very angry and said never and stormed off.

And we can't afford to kennel all the animals. We have nine: two dogs, five cats, and two goats. Even if we asked a neighbor to feed the goats (wouldn't require giving a key to the house), seven animals would be too expensive a kenneling fee. And Mallory and the kittens haven't been the vet yet at all, having to be locked in a little cage at a facility would be way too traumatizing. I love our animals. They are the absolutely best thing about living here.

Sigh. I'm not sure. I feel angry and trapped.

Of course, maybe I'm not meant to go. I still I don't have a way back yet. But deep down, I know that's not the issue.

I wish I could talk to them without them hearing insults. But I can't. And I wish I could feel strong enough to face what they want me to (the petsitting) but I don't...

GOD, HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Open to God's Plan (part two)

So several entries ago, The Aftershock, was about the weekend immediately after finding out about my fiance's death. But, as you might imagine, life after a crisis is always more than you might think.

On that Sunday night I had to take a Xanex because my stress level had gotten so bad I was hyperventilating and couldn't stop. Then I was surfing the web looking up anything I could find on my fiance. I stayed up until dawn, when I was shaking like I had hyperthermia. I went to sleep, having nightmares and kept waking up. I actually got out of bed the next afternoon. I talked to a friend about everything. She is a grad student in Kansas and absolutely the best comforter amongst my friends. She really helped me get through stuff.

I'm not sure if was Tuesday or what but a local friend of mine is going to Missouri soon and she said she felt it was important to encourage me to come. Not to stay with her, she's going to work there, but to find something to do there and tag along on the roadtrip. I began to realize I really, really need to get away. With being unemployed and pretty much feeling like a failure, it's especially important.
The idea wasn't a completely new one.

I have recently fallen in love with cob houses. I'd read an article in Root magazine from last year's Earth Day issue this April. It was among my stuff from college. It's by a Spartanburg professor and it's about cob houses. Cob is a building material made from straw, clay, and sand. It's sort of like adobe, only you sort of sculpt the house as you go and the walls become one cohesive unit, not bricks. It's very neat and if you think so you should probably google it. Anyway, I had fallen in love with the method and maybe someday when I have the money to (it's inexpensive but does require some money) I'll build a cob house. But during the frenzied beginning of my obsession, I'd found a eco-commune in Missouri that has a work exchange program. You help them with labor, like making a cob house, and they feed and house you for the time you're there. I emailed them about it, then mentioned it to my friend, seeing if I could ride to Missouri with her and back. She told me I could totally come, but I'd have to find my own way back because she's meeting up with family in Austin, TX for a while on the way home. Then I was emailed back by the commune telling me they'd already gotten someone to come help them sorry.

I put it out of my mind mostly, but my friend hadn't. She's always trying to encourage me to get out. I do feel trapped here in the country sans car. Anyway, she has been praying about all that and she started feeling that she should encourage me to come to Missouri. I have an aunt and uncle who just moved to Kansas City, MO. My two grown cousins also live out there. They're involved in a ministry there, and have been for years. That's why my aunt and uncle, who lived in NJ until recently, decided to move there. My aunt always invites me to come visit them everytime we talk, and so when my friend mentioned going to Missouri, I thought maybe I should take my aunt up on it. But then after my fiance's death, I really felt that I should.

I mentioned this to my friend, and she prayed for God to show me the way to get back. I was praying too, but I have just felt very off lately. But I do think God is wanting me to go to Missouri. For example, when I was talking to my aunt and trying to figure out how to bring the possible trip up, she suddenly said "You know you're always welcome if you want to come see us".

Anyway, if I'm going, I'm going on Thursday. I don't know yet! It's technically Monday now and I don't know! I don't have any money. I don't have a way back. We'll see! But I think it's going to happen. There have been some issues, but again, I feel that that's another entry. Right now I've just got to pray and be open to God's Plan. I kind of feel like that Plan is kicking my butt right now, but I know it's all ultimately for good. I don't just believe this, I know it.

Please, God, let me go.

Love and Happiness in Spartanburg (part 1 1/2)

This is more of a normal blog entry then a summation.

The other day, Tabitha and I went out and had a really good day. I meant to include it in "part one" because it was the Sunday before Eric died, but I'm actually happier I forgot because it that post was long enough already.

We first went walking on the Cottonwood trail. Which I love. So does she, but we rarely get to. She lives in Woodruff, and I don't live much closer to the east side, and she's a major worker. She's got a full time and a part time job as well. But we got to do it, which was great. We ended up finishing the actual cottonwood trail for the first time, and also walked a few of the side trails. We've not done them all but my official favorite is the wetlands trail. It's a boardwalk trail over a marsh and you don't really feel like you're in the middle of Spartanburg at all. This was only our third time getting to go. The first time we walked from the start (near the pool) to the Duke Power Bridge and I had my dog with me. The second time we didn't have any dogs. We parked at a entrance off the side, I forget off which road. We got to where the cottonwood trail meets the end of the ridge trail and my friend saw the stairs. She wanted to get more exercise so she ran up and tried to run down... and fell.

She mainly just got bruises and scrapes, she did whack her wrist and a rib, but overall it wasn't so bad. But she was sort of in shock and thought she was hurt way worse than she really was. We got back to the car and then went to Lydia's house. She lives on the east side. She and her dad let Tabby take a shower (she was covered in mud) and use some neosporin and bandaids. She was aching all over for a few days, poor baby. But anyway, that was at least a month before the day I'm supposed to be blogging about!

This time was uneventful. We didn't have our dogs with us because we were planning on doing something else afterwards and unfortunately there are few places in this area that allow dogs.

We probably walked at least three miles maybe? Then we got in the car and decided to eat. We drove to the west side. My family has a costco membership and I am broke so we went into costco and I got the $1.50 hot dog meal. It's the biggest, most filling ever foot long hot dog and a 20 oz drink (plus refills if you eat there) for $1.50. It's got to be the most economic meal offer in Spartanburg... except you need a membership to get in. :) My friend wasn't feeling that, so I got it but she went across the parking lot to the food court at the mall and got some Japanese dish. I think we looked a few shops before we left the mall.

She was exhausted by the walk. Actually, all the endorphins had hit her on the trail and when we went back to the car she was still raring to walk more. But she crashed. So we were trying to figure out what to do, and I was thinking "hmm. Nonexerting things to do on a Sunday". And I came up with Barnes and Noble. Turns out she had a book she wanted to get anyway, so we went and enjoyed the airconditioning and the lovely lovely books I can't afford. I love books.

They didn't have the book she wanted, and she decided ordering it off the internet was probably cheaper than having them order it in the store, so we didn't actually buy anything.

After that, we went to Hatcher Gardens. I'd actually brought a library book, and we went near a waterfall in there, where there is a stone wall in a circle? And it was so cool, we got to see a marriage proposal! After we'd been there about fifteen minutes, just chilling, her texting her husband and me reading in between chatting to each other, this young couple ran excitingly to the waterfall's edge. They were tattooed, I think, or at least one of them was, and his head was shaved. We couldn't hear them over the waterfall, but we saw her lean over and pick up a plastic dinosaur and they laughed a lot. It looked like a stegosaurus. Then he got on one knee and my friend said "Is he proposing?" and I said, "Nooo, it's got to be a mock proposal" just because they were still laughing. But then he pulled out a ring and slid it on her finger! I thought we should clap, but my friend didn't. You know, on all the tv shows when a proposal happens in a restaurant or something everyone claps if she says yes. They kissed for several minutes, they were so cute! Then they ran off, beaming and holding hands and I beamed back at them. I wonder what the story was with the plastic dinosaur.

The waterfall at Hatcher Gardens where the proposal took place.

I was afraid with my fiance's death that that memory might be painful. But really, it's not. It still makes me smile. How many times do you get to see a marriage proposal, randomly like that? It was beautiful to see their love and happiness. Love and Happiness has beauty transcending sorrow. If someone from that couple ever reads this, I wish you felicitation, happiness, and a long life together.

After that, my friend and I went home.

Life in the interim (part one)

This is a post about the time between his death and my last post prior to that.

For the first few weeks after I was laid off I really was on fire for God. I wanted to go into Spartanburg everyday and just go where God wanted me to... but unfortunately, I didn't have a way. I don't own a car. I thought I could ride with my mother, but she got upset by the "pressure" of me wanting to go each day so I only got to go once or twice a week. Then my mother stopped working. She works an unsteady job, project to project, so that was normal, but I didn't have a way into town at all.

We live in the country, which can be great. I really love getting up in the morning and listening to all the birds, including my neighbor's roosters, throwing hay to the goats... just the beauty of it. But I miss people. I love people. I want PEOPLE. But not only are people few and far between, they tend to move here because they want privacy. There's a lot of "Trespassers will be shot" signs around here. There's no sidewalks and people tend to let their dogs run free, so I can't even walk the dog and feel safe.

I am really trying not to complain. I have been doing too much of that. I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach, a family who loves me, even if they don't get me. I have been catching myself complaining far too often. I am blessed. I am not happy though. I feel restless yet unable to move.

I didn't want to get another job, but what I was planning on doing was still working: working for the Lord. I know God has called me to work with people, His people. And I know God is the ultimate provider and if I do what He wants me to do, He will take care of me always. This applies to economics too. But even though I felt like I should get to town, I didn't have a way. And the longer I went without really doing anything of value, the more helpless I feel. And the farther from God. I'm not trying to blame my parents. I'm not really sure what was supposed to happen. Were my parents in the wrong, just not right where God wanted them? Happens to us all. Or maybe I was, maybe I didn't try hard enough to find a way? Or maybe I was just supposed to honor mother and father and not go to town? I think that might be true, but I don't know. But people are meant to work. Maybe not have jobs, there's a difference, but work. But I haven't really gotten to do work in a while.

I tried to throw myself into the house and I made headway on that, but it burns me out more than anything else, I have so much baggage tied up in this house as well as housework. I think if I had to housework elsewhere it'd still burn me out fast, but not as bad. But this house and cleaning? It's exhausting, mentally and emotionally. Still, like I said, I did make headway.

I was able to pay my own bills for a while, but recently I had borrow from Mom and Dad. Shaming. And imprisoning. But we'll get to that.

I felt like a failure. Still do.

My younger sister was home for the month of May, but now she's at an internship until August. She's loving it, which is great. We got along really well while she was home. We tend to fight, but we didn't fight at all while my parents went on vacation for a few days. That was major progress.

My other sister, who is married and lives in FL, is currently on vacation in Australia. Lucky girl.

But we got kittens. And a pool. Those were the two huge things in my life the month before my fiance's death. A stray cat, a calico we named Mallory, showed up. After two weeks of feeding her, she moved her three kittens into the garage. They lived there for five weeks, then for some unknown reason she decided to move them away. And she lost her daughter, a calico we called Marshmellow. She's probably dead, though we'd like to hope maybe some other human in the area took her in. She was obviously half persian or something, had a different father than her brothers, and everyone agreed she was the cutest. But we got the brothers back and moved them into the screen porch. There is an orange tabby named Baryon and a cream tabby we called Buffy until we knew it was a boy and now he's Devlin. Mallory was mournfully meowing to us all day and night that first day and a half until she figured out she can get into our screen porch through a rip in the door. It's about halfway up, too far up for uncoordinated kittens that were about 8 weeks at this point. So now she comes and goes as she pleases but the kittens are living on the porch. They've sort of adopted Toby, my mom's cat, as the stepfather. Mallory and him are sexually flirting, even though Toby is nuetered. The kittens, though not Mallory, have met Sophie my dog and that went well even though I'm not ready to let her go out there without a leash. My parents dog and my sister's cat have not had the honor yet.The dog will be fine, we're sure, but he's 60 pounds, versus Sophie's 17 and we think he's too big for them not to be terrified yet. Currently they're about ten weeks.

We got the pool for Mother's Day. It's an Intex Easy Set, an inexpensive brand of aboveground pools. I was going in it everyday it didn't rain. It rains most days though. But I'm the most tan I've ever been in my life. I actually have freckles! I've never had freckles! And I use sunblock every single time, but it doesn't block everything. Still, I don't think I have gotten to swim since his death. I had been swimming about an hour beforehand. That's not on purpose, it's more that I just wasn't in the mood and it's also rained a lot. I probably should though, exercise being good not only to stay fit but for the much needed endorphines.

I've only tried to apply to a few jobs, I'll admit, and I know I need to find some source of money. I found a job I really really wanted but I didn't even get called back for an interview. I would have been perfect! I'm very, very discouraged and lost on this front.

I think that's pretty much it. Not much has happened, but that's pretty much mid-February to last week. Now for part two...

Eric: The True Story

This is a post dated blog post. That is, I'm actually writing this in 2011, as I'm getting ready for my 200th blog post. I've been going through my old blog entries and decided I wanted to tell what happened with Eric, but decided not to tell it and have it post in my current time because I don't want to draw attention to it. For one, I've moved past Eric. And God is glorified through this story...but I look pretty stupid.

On Friday, June 12, 2009 I was contacted by someone using Eric's contact information telling me Eric had died. I kind of went numb. The person told me they were a friend of Eric's, a fellow soldier, and he'd talked of me often. They said he was about to get out of the duty and go start a life with me and was killed trying to save someone. And that someone else would be in touch with me, they were sure.

I was just in shock, I didn't really examine what I was told. When the person left, I went and sobbed in my mother's arms.

It was a Friday I found out. It was a dark, horrible weekend. On Sunday, I went online and searched for anything, everything that the internet had to offer.

But I found nothing.

Which seemed quite wrong. Eric had told me he was involved in secretive stuff, but even if his name wasn't listed, a mention of the incident that killed him should be, right?

I typed in his name in google and searched...

And found something.

Now, you have to understand, I'd googled his name soo many times had had never found anything worth mentioning.

But I found a girl's blog where she talked about him. And it was old... in fact, it was from earlier in our relationship. That is Eric was with this girl at the same time as me. Furthermore, she was also engaged to him.

I felt raw and betrayed.

I now knew that he was a liar. Was he dead and a liar? A comment was left on one of the girl's blog posts. Unlike me, the commenter obviously hadn't read through the blog, she'd just found Eric's name and had posted something like 'you know him to? Have you heard from him lately?' and left her email address. So I emailed her. I told her who I was, and what I'd found out.

Meanwhile, I start absorbing this. And I see all the holes in the story I was told (which I'd noticed before this, but in the light of knowing he's a liar, they are even more pronounced). And I am comforted and slowly filled with joy.

I know that seems weird, but you see, it was beginning to look like he wasn't actually dead. And that was good. Because a living Eric who is a liar, he can be prayed for... a dead Eric who is a liar? He probably did not really know Christ, despite his claims (he professed to be a Christian, but didn't like to talk about his faith), and therefore was probably doomed...

The girl emailed me back, saying it was horrible what he'd done to me. She told me that she'd talked to him much more recently (much, much) than I had last, which cemented it for me. Obviously he was a coward who made up the story about dying because he didn't know how to break up with me. I mean, seriously!

She was angry and thought I should take vengence. I told her no. And I've never really been tempted to do so, though I can think of a few ways I could. Instead, I pray for him when he comes to my mind. I am not angry, though of course I no longer have any romantic interest in him.

But I am glad, and joyful, and delighted to pray for him! I know God put him in my life for a reason. For several reasons. One of them, I believe, is to pray for him.

Another is as a place holder. My judgment was not great when I picked Eric... which was when I was 19. I was 23 when this took place. I believe God had me 'taken' by Eric to keep me safe and unattached so that when I was 24, a little over a year after this event, I'd meet the man he'd intended for me. And because Eric and I, we spent months without talking because of 'missions' he was sent on (probably not true). The consequence of this is I, who was genuinely in love with the man I thought Eric was and wanted to marry him, needed to rely on Jesus SO MUCH to get me through that. Over and over, I grew closer to God. If I had had an in-person, normal relationship then, it would probably distract me from spiritual growth, but this convoluted long-distance charade, it drove me into God's arms.

And also, it was to just show his love and glory. Consider this: I was told Eric died on Friday. I discovered the Truth on Sunday. I don't think that's an accident. It's not Eric that's the metaphor for Christ in that, I think it's that it's a metaphor for the grave. For three agonizing, heart breaking days I thought my fiance was dead, and God brought me a risen life on the other side. A life above the lies and despair, filled with hope to pray for him and hope of a God guided path for me.

I'm not sure how well I did at telling this story, but believe me. In some ways it was the most painful experience, and in many ways I feel like I was SUCH A FOOL. But the one who thinks he's wise... well, he's not. And when I am weak, Christ's strength takes over. And it did. Forever. PRAISE HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Aftershock

It really does feel like my soul is being torn into jagged pieces. I am so moody, and nauseous from grief. I'm broken.

But I do know that when we are weak, God is strong and I am truly taken comfort in that.
It has been a while since I've posted, but considering the circumstances, I don't feel like filling you in on the last four months, but instead talking about the past couple days.

I found out about him on Friday. I was in shock for a while, sobbed, then... I don't know. I ended up going out with a friend of mine and did nothing, really. But it was so much better than being at home, so I am grateful. We mainly just walked around Spartanburg on foot until our feet hurt too much, then went to Papa's Breakfast Nook. Then we got clay at Walmart, went back to her house... but didn't sculpt anything. I went home as the sun was just starting to break the horizon. To the east there was a mildly colorful glow, but straight above you could still stars. I've never been outside at that particular moment before.

I slept until noon or so, then got up. We went out and didn't get to the library before it closed, went to the thrift store to buy books... I needed a book to disappear into, I can't face life. But there really weren't any. I got one childrens book and one book with a story about medieval Scotland I've not managed to get into. I made the mistake when I got home of having a drink. Just one, but the last thing I needed to do was lower my inhibitions. I was angry, surly, and sobbing. It didn't last long though, since it was just one drink. The inhibitions were the only thing keeping me from losing it.

I had written an announcing note on facebook, which I'm copying below, with a few edits:

My fiance, Eric, is dead.
I found out yesterday. He died in Pakistan.
This post responds to his death. That one is coming. I'm writing it, taking my time.
I am not great. I will survive. He survived, before. His fiancee died when he was about my age. He nearly gave up on life. I won't do that.
I still don't believe he is dead. I can feel my subconscious processing it, and it's eating me alive. I feel like my soul is being torn.
But my hope is in God, and while I am in no happy state, he is strong when we are weak, right? This song has been my favorite for about a month and while I loved the lyrics, I wasn't suffering so they weren't so poignant. Now I am, and I'd like to share them with you:
You would think only so much can go wrong
Calamity only strikes once
And you assume that this one has suffered her share
Life will be kinder from here
Sometimes the sun stays hidden for years
Sometimes the sky rains night after night
When will it clear
But our hope endures the worst of conditions
It's more than our optimism
Let the earth quake
Our hope is unchanged
How do we comprehend peace within pain
Our joy at a good man's wake
Walk a mile with a woman whose body is torn
With illness but she marches on
Sometimes the sun stays hidden for years
Sometimes the sky rains night after night
When will it clear
But our hope endures the worst of conditions
It's more than our optimism
Let the earth quake
Our hope is unchanged
Emanuel, God is with us
El Shaddai, all sufficient
Emanuel, God is with us
El Shaddai, all sufficient
Emanuel, God is with us
El Shaddai, all sufficient
We never walk alone
This is our hope
Our hope endures, the worst of conditions
It's more than our optimism
let the earth quake
let the earth quake
let the earth quake
Our hope is unchanged
"Our Hope Endures" by Natalie Grant
And so does mine. My hope endures, and so shall I. Prayers are welcome. For HIM. My second biggest pain, after the keen loss, is that the only one I know who knows and loves him is God. I know you guys love me, but if you love me: love him. Don't just hurt because you know I'm hurting. Hurt because the world has lost the most incredible man who ever lived.
I am in pain and I do wish it would stop... but I am so much better off feeling pain at his loss than if I had never known him. Infinitely better. He is most amazing man who ever lived. And he loved me. How many women can say that? Truly, I am blessed. Not the most blissfully happy woman but, I have had far more than most.

That's where the post ended. I tagged people, using up all the limits I could, to draw people's attention to it. I thought to tag one person, but he was a friend I met at a young adult retreat two years ago. I haven't really talked to him in a year. But then later, I wasn't surprised at all when he IMed me to express his condolences, even though I hadn't ended up tagging him. He'd seen it anyway. He caught me in a better moment and we had a long mainly theological talk. Part of the way through I asked him "What do you think of human nature?" and he asked me if I meant did he think people were essentially good, you know, philosophy class stuff. But no, I meant in a Christian sense. He asked me to elaborate and I said that even Christians seem to excuse behavior as "just human nature" and he quickly understood what I meant and jumped in and said "excusing sinful nature by calling it human nature?" and that's just what I meant. I referred to Romans 7: 5For when we were controlled by the sinful nature,[a] the sinful passions aroused by the law were at work in our bodies, so that we bore fruit for death. 6But now, by dying to what once bound us, we have been released from the law so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit, and not in the old way of the written code.

And from there we twisted through subjects, getting into politics among other things. Then this friend revealed to me that while he's a Christian and wants to follow Christian morals, when there's a question between them and the US Constitution he picked the constitution and did I think that was bad? And I told him honestly, yes. That the constitution, as great as it is, was written by man. And the worst man can do to you is take your life, the lives of those you love, and everything you own. But you're going to die, so is everyone you know, and you can't take anything with you. So ultimately man can't do anything to you that won't already happen. And there was a pause.

Then he said "can I be brutally honest?" and I said of course. And then he said that while he knew that to be true, it scared the crap out of him. And I smiled and posted that I understood. But guess what? That's human nature.

It was amazing, oh readers if you exist. God was speaking through me. We'd been meandering through a conversation, and yet HE brought it full circle. At that point, we said goodbyes and went to bed. But I knew God had spoken through me to him, had used me as his vessel. It is true that when we are weak He is strong! Before I left facebook I changed my status to: God is beautiful. Like a breathtaking thunderhead, He really shows us the beauty in the most destructive storms. Praise Him, the entire universe, praise the God who gives and takes away!

Today I went out with Tabitha. We ate lunch, which was good. Then we got to the library, and unfortunately they didn't really have the books I wanted, but I got a few. We went shopping at Target because my friend needed some things and there I felt myself slip more into a valley. That's when the nausea from grief began. We went to Hatcher Gardens after that, looked at a book of names I'd gotten from the library trying to come up with names for my kitten. That actually made me laugh really hard. Then I came home. I hadn't eaten dinner, and I still haven't now that I think about it. I'm not really hungry though. I had an evening at home with my parents... and now I'm on here.

I'm a broken woman, a different woman. But I know that it's times like this that God is glorified through us, and that's what I want more than anything.

He's dead

My fiance is dead.