It has so much power.  It also has many levels.

I thought I had forgiven my ex-husband, and others who have hurt me.  Until I was faced with another unexpected memory.  This time, it was while watching the movie, “I Can Only Imagine.”

Several scenes and words spoken in the movie uncovered layers of un-forgiveness in my heart.

Our minds and hearts hold on to hurts that we don’t even realize still exist.  Until we see them happen to, or hear them spoken to someone else.

When these unchartered waters rush in, we must choose all over again if we will hold on to them or release them.  Holding on to them breeds retaliation.  Releasing them initiates a renewed freedom.

When I watched the movie, I allowed myself to get angry and feel the emotions that I experienced when it first happened.  My blood boiled.  My disappointment acted as if it were brand new.  Tears dripped out of my eyes and onto my cheeks.  The tears held the memories.  The tears multiplied.  It felt good to release them, and as I wiped them away, I decided to release the people who created them.  I was free again.

The experiences, the sorrows, the pain, the victories – they’re all part of me.  I don’t regret or despise any of them.  The pain has given me strength.  The sorrow led to joy.

Experiences provide valuable lessons.

If we didn’t go through hard times in our lives, with people to forgive, we wouldn’t  understand the depth of the power in forgiveness.  If we never suffered, there would be no lesson to learn.

We have been forgiven/set free, so we must also forgive, to be set free from the power that it has over us.

The layers of forgiveness will continue to uncover themselves when we are ready to release them.

The immense power that unforgiveness holds goes to battle with the equaled power of forgiveness.

Unforgiveness sets us back and imprisons us.

Forgiveness moves us forward and frees us.

I choose forgiveness.

Affinity is defined as a similarity of characteristics suggesting a relationship, especially a resemblance in structure.

Identity is defined as a close similarity or affinity.

I’ve been perplexed about my identity. I hear the term often. I’ve even recognized false identities that I’ve lived in. So, I know who I am not.

My true identity is what I’d like to determine.

When I found the definition of affinity, the words “resemblance in structure” struck me.

Structure is defined as the arrangement of and relations between the parts or elements of something complex.

All three words have a common theme: a close relationship with something or someone who is similar to you.

Peter Scazzero, in his book “Emotionally Healthy Spirituality,” states that God is “an emotional being who feels.”

Peter Scazzero illustrates a few of God’s feelings as delighted, angry, loving, compassionate, sorrowful, distressed, and joyful.

God, in His Book, illustrates that we are created in His image.

If we add up these definitions, ideas, and statements, the answer seems to be that my relationship with my emotional Creator, when close, is my identity.

I am God’s emotional, structured creation whom He desires to spend time with.

When I draw near to Him, He shows me my true identity. In Him.

I’ve tried to open my front door with my car key fob.

I’ve pushed the brew button on my Keurig, without the cup underneath, more than once.

I pushed the brew button on my old fashioned coffee maker, without adding water. Once.

I heard the front door open, while I was in the shower one day, 13 years ago. I left the bathroom door open so I could hear babies or toddlers crying during my 5 minute shower.

He never left before, when I was in the shower, but I had a feeling he would.

I jumped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around myself, raced out the front door to chase him. My 4 year old son. On the loose. For no reason at all!

He saw me, running in my towel, and ran faster. I actually heard him laughing!

I ran faster, caught up with him somehow, scooped him up and took him home.

Shortly after that, he told his sister she couldn’t pee in the toilet because she didn’t have the right parts!

Then, we took a trip to D.C.

He escaped again. This time it was an accident. My luggage cart got stuck in the track of the elevator door, on my side of the door, with Isaac in the elevator, on the other side.

As the doors closed, I panicked. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. He wasn’t there. I ran down, not there. One more flight down, not there. Back up to where he entered… he stepped off right where he got on!

I think I squeezed his guts out when I hugged him. I had to make sure it was really him, because in my mind he was gone forever.

I love being a mom. I love kids. They wear me out. Often. Yet, I can’t imagine my life without them.

Giggling, growing, changing, transforming, loving, caring, scaring, cherishing… kids.

Just bein their mom. I am Fulfilled.

I am the duck.  Judgment from others is the water.

A few years ago, I was standing in line at the grocery store with my rowdy, hyper, silly children who were jumping up and down, tugging on me, touching things on the shelves near us, asking for all of the candy that lined the shelves next to us.

Mary Poppins was waiting in the same line, next up.  She turned around, with her overcoat buttoned all the way up, umbrella on her arm, fancy hat just so, and looked at  us as if we were stray dogs that were loose in the alley.

This “look” bothered me for days.  I complained about her at work, with friends, family… anyone who would listen! I was so offended!

Fast forward to a Christmas shopping trip to the Village of Rochester Hills this past year.    We visited several stores that day, enjoying our time together, as a family.

One store we walked into, a fancy yoga pants store, attempted to affect us.  We walked in, laughing, having fun, unaware…

Abruptly, we stopped when we felt the glares.  Mary Poppins must’ve multiplied at midnight like the gremlins do…

This time though, I laughed.  I didn’t care!

I realized, in that moment, that I became the duck.  Their judgment was the water.

Unfortunately, my children were affected.  They asked to leave right away.

I led the way out, head held high, smiling.

On our way to the next store, I used the moment of the glares to teach my children about what truly matters in life.  The latest styles, how much we spend, our status, what we look like – these things do not matter.

What mattered to me in that moment was that I was alive, spending quality time with my children, enjoying life.

We decided that we wouldn’t allow the glares to affect us.  We know who we are, what we value, and why we are here.

We are loved, and so we shall love others, even when the water pours over us.  Our backs can take it.

Babies, vulnerable and dependent, trust their parents to nurture, feed, and love them.  Their instinct is to cry out for nourishment, comfort, and protection.

We were designed to trust.

Babies in orphanages who do not receive what they need to thrive, no longer seek it.  They give up, and stop hoping that their needs will be met.

Speaking from the horrible experience of adultery, broken trust attempted to destroy me. I was a can of Coke that was stomped on by a giant.  Crushed.  Sharp metal pieces barely hanging on.

The can of Coke was filled back up, taped back together, metal smoothed out.  The can is  whole again, yet fragile.

Thankfully, I’ve been restored, however, trust is a daily struggle for me.

Daily, I have to remind myself to believe that God wants to protect me.  He wants me to trust Him.  He has always provided what I need to thrive.

As much, or more, as I long to shield my children from the world and its harsh ways, God longs to shield us from the same.

It is difficult sometimes, in my weak moments to realize that God was with me when I experienced broken trust with my ex-husband.  God did not want that to happen, but He was there for me when my ex-husband chose that path.

God’s arms were open to comfort me, but I chose to enter the arms of the world instead.

When I chose to seek comfort from the world, I walked away from a life of protection.

Instead of choosing to walk under the umbrella that God was holding for me, I chose to be drenched in the rain.  I chose to freeze.  I chose to struggle.

He never stopped holding the umbrella though. He walked right beside me the whole time.

I discovered how much I loved to write back in high school English class with Mrs. Dubois.   She was the first person to tell me to never stop writing.  She saw my passion for it then.  I’m so glad I found it again.

I write to share my thoughts.  I’m a thinker, so it’s nice to spill them out and share them, to clear space for more.  They make sense to me when I see them.  My thoughts come alive when they combine with the letters, and then words, and then sentences – if that makes sense?

They get all wrapped up and stuck to each other when they are forced to remain in my head.

I hope that somehow, the sentences that fly out of my head will help people who have gone through, or are going through, something I’ve gone through, or am going through.

So, here is what I’ve gone through so far:

My parents divorced when I was 4.  My mom re-married when I was 5.  The guy she married didn’t like kids, so my sister and I don’t have any good memories of him.  He yelled a lot, at a lot of people, about everything, everyday.

They divorced when I was 12.

My mom married my current stepdad when I was 14.  He’s pretty cool.  Now.  (I couldn’t see that then).

Regardless of who he was, I was mad.  At the world.  And everything in it.  I missed out on what could’ve been great years of my life since I allowed the anger to control me.

I worked at the Dairy Queen, age 14, and then the local supermarket, age 16.  Graduated high school, went to college.  Earned a bachelors degree.

I was still angry at the world and everything in it.

I managed to let go of my anger for a short while, went to church, found God, got married, had 4 kids, and then… got divorced.

I’ve  been divorced for 10 years.

When people used to say, “I don’t know how you do it!,” I’d respond with: “not very well!”    (and I really believed it! Ha!)

Guess it depends on your perspective.  I’m glad I don’t feel that way anymore.

My anger level has decreased drastically.  I’ve embraced my weaknesses.  I stopped running from God. I still have 4 kids.  I’m still divorced.

Now, when people say, “I don’t know how you do it!,” I respond, “with God’s help.”

In my first blog post I stated that healing is a journey.  I believe this wholeheartedly.  It took me 40+ years to wind this mess up.  It has to be unwound, like the music from one of those old-fashioned music boxes.  I hear it playing out.

I’ll be here for a while.

Hope you’ll join me!

Rubber-band ball

There were moments, in the toughest times of my life, when I felt like I was trapped at the center of a rubber-band ball.

Each year wrapped itself around the last.

Some days, I enjoyed the shelter and the solace. The layers protected me.

Other days, it was suffocating. The bands were tight. I wanted to snap free.

I was trapped by my own feelings.

Circumstances, responsibilities, and people added to the layers.

No one knew I who I was. No one knew my predicament.

Years passed me by.

When I started to see the names of the bands from the inside – bitterness, un-forgiveness, hate, anger, self worth, intimidation, and humiliation – I realized that I controlled them.

One by one, I overcame them.

As I forgave, they snapped off.

When I chose to live in freedom, they wore thin.

When I no longer cared what the world thought of me, they expanded.

Bursting from the center of the rubber-band ball, I emerged.

On my way to the path set before me, I was lost.

I was so lost that I had no idea what I was looking for.

I was numb to the signs, nudges, and guiding mentors that tried to show me the way to the path.

They were a nuisance to me.

I was drawn to a different path that led to THE WALL.  No matter which path I chose, I ended up at THE WALL.

I ran my fingers along THE WALL, trying to find clues that would lead me to the path set before me.  THE WALL seemed to be whispering to me, with a soft voice beckoning me… to somewhere…

The voice was comforting at times, when I leaned up against it, lost and unaware.  The voice was comforting because it became familiar, even though I couldn’t comprehend the directions it was giving to me.

Determined to find the path set before me, I kept searching.

There was an opening in THE WALL!

Someone wrote “The journey inward” on the doorframe of the opening in THE WALL.

As I entered the opening, it transformed into a tunnel.  The tunnel was wallpapered with my past.

Voices, images, scents, textures, people, mistakes, tears, loss, sadness, and the others floated around me as I walked through.

They were coming FROM me.  Escaping.

With the release of each one, my strength seemed to increase.

When I reached the end of the tunnel, I felt like a superhero – bold, confident, and free!

The path set before me appeared.

Just in time.

I was out shopping one day, seeking to find items to decorate my new house, when I stumbled upon a little wooden sign.  The sign says, “We’re all just walking each other home.” It intrigued me, so I bought it.  Every time I look at it, I smile.

Home means different things to everyone.  A place, a feeling, a smell that takes you back to your youth, or vivid memories that visit, inviting you back.

For me, the journey home is my goal.

Knowing that there is a goal gives me a renewed purpose.  Daily.

My purpose is simple: to make a positive impact on this earth by loving everyone deeply.

I believe that I was placed exactly where I am for a reason.  In this house, on this street, with these children, with this job, wearing these hats, speaking these words…

When we know why we are here, what our life is meant for, we can begin to enjoy the journey home.  

We can leave our fears behind us, cling to hope, look up, move forward, and know that we are headed in the right direction.

One of my favorite places in the world is in Oregon.  I hiked several miles through the lushest green trees, on narrow, steep trails with the most beautiful landscape, to finally experience the scene that matched a poster on my wall – The Multnomah Falls.

The trek was worth it! The breathtaking view at the top was majestic!  Absolutely amazing!

I bought the poster several years ago, at a resale store, and hung it on the wall of the first house I bought on my own.  I had a lofty dream of going there, and honestly thought I’d never fulfill that dream.

Seeing it in person was quite unbelievable!

The relentless, rushing waters cascaded powerfully over the rocks.  The waters overtook the earth.  Their purpose was fulfilled.  They were home. 

Creating Me

Altered

Embrace

Posted on

March 9, 2018

Author

aladell4Edit

Leave a Reply

Logged in as aladell4. Log out?

COMMENT

Notify me of new comments via email.

Post navigation

NEXT

Next post:

Overwhelming peace

Blog at WordPress.com.

Our laughter feels like home. Completed pieces of an ever-changing puzzle.  We’ve conquered the trials that attempted to steal our song. We are not perfect, however, we are perfect for each other.  Our dance has been pre-choreographed. Sharpened.

Home is not a place.  It is where our hearts collide.  We twist and turn, creating the strongest cord.  It is frayed, from wear, but continues to grow from its center. Fed by love.

Apologies, tears. Encouragement, cherished.

Set out to make an impact.  Positive, life-changing.

Reliable, dependable, trustworthy, indestructible.

Free to be our true selves. Silly. Accepted. United. Powerful. Us.

No matter where we are, we know where we belong. We’ve been intricately chosen for each other.

Our puzzle pieces bend, break, regenerate, and then correspond to become whole again.