It’s good to be home and back in the swing of things. Dad and the boys have been busy with camp work. There was a pancake breakfast over the weekend which had a good turnout. The before we left there was a pretty strong wind storm which blew over one of the entryway pine trees. It’s hard to believe it’s actually gone but from a distance at least you can’t tell that much difference. Many people mentioned it at the breakfast.

There was a group here for a work day that cut it all up for firewood. The boys stayed overnight with Grandma with Dad drove Ethan back to school. She ordered Zorro a new cage since he’s pretty much outgrown the other one he’s been using. It’s more like an octagon shaped playpen. So he drove out and back again then picked up the boys in the morning the next day. Laura is waiting on a delivery for the save-the-date cards.

Tonight I went into Contact and sat with Alexis in the side room. Something happened earlier in the week that had her really shook up and to be honest bothered me too. She gave me a lot to think about as it sounds now as if she’s going to finish there early. Contact is a ministry and that is what originally drew me to it. I am grateful for the work I’ve been able to do there, but I’m thinking it might be time to no longer put time there.

I feel like my body is giving me time, saying, “We really ought not to go a single step further until you take time to write this out. You know you need to. You know you can.” I remember when forgiveness came to mean, “I give you full permission to hurt me again.” It was then I decided to no longer forgive. Over my dead body would I give understanding to never get it. There would be no forgiveness until I got what I wanted.

I’ve said for years that the issues that come up in a woman’s luteal phase are the things, the wounds, that need addressing and healed. If things are dealt with there is healing. If not, the wounds become deeper and only grow. I would love to somehow research this, and educate others on these bodily functions. Too much damage happens to couples in this window, when this is actually supposed to be the time to most bond you.

Somewhere women’s voices became really hard for men to hear. I shouldn’t just say men because it seems to happen with children too. It’s true I want my voice heard but not at the expense of the rest of my life. “If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, the Lord would not have listened.” I feel like there’s another verse somewhere but I can’t remember where it is. To not forgive is a great iniquity that warrants death and rejection.

But our bodies can also work against us, because they bring up issues that are no longer there but only exist in the mind. The body and head need to come back into alignment. This is why it’s important to not only have forgiveness which removes our transgressions, but also repentance and change. When we can hear where the other is hurting we can acknowledge where we’ve also done wrong. We can move on from the past.

To not forgive your brother makes a bigger mess than the first one. It’s a bigger mess than the first because that mess becomes another, and then another, then another, until there is no knowing where the first mess began. It’s a hopeless situation because it’s a hopeless situation, but not when people can say, “We want more. We need more.” Because there is so much forgiveness in Christ, there is plenty of grace to go around.

Elianna and I are back from our trip. We were home a little before 6 in the evening. The trip back was faster because we weren’t contending with storms and torrential rainfall. You’d be surprised how fast the drive goes as neither one seemed too long. Dad was ready with church clothes and they turned around and left for church. They had cleaned up the house and finished putting flooring in our closet.

Yesterday was a good day as well. We set our alarm so we would be up for the sunrise. We brought our towels to the beach and did “beach yoga” and walked around picking up shells. The first full day we were there the wind was so horrendous it was a combination of funny and annoying. The double red flags were up forbidding people to enter the water. But after that day the flags were yellow and the air much calmer.

We walked another two miles down the opposite shoreline until we couldn’t. There was a canal separating where we were to the other side of the beach. It was like the beach just stopped and opened up. I would’ve swam to the other side but I just had no desire to, say nothing about unknown depth or currents. I’m still trying to process all that took place here. It’s like I woke up from a dream and can never go back.

This morning after breakfast we went down to the beach. We thought we’d go for a walk but didn’t know which direction to go. The day before we’d gone right so this time we went left. There was a giant pier in the distance and we thought we could walk to it. It was about 9:28 when we started. Along the way we saw starfish and stranded jellyfish. I told Elianna about the starfish story where the little boy starts throwing them back.

People think he’s nuts because there are way starfish than he is able to save. But he holds up the starfish and says something like, “But for this one I was able to make a difference.” She’d never heard that story before, and neither had she seen an actual starfish “in the wild”. I don’t remember how long it took us, but it was at least three miles down to the pier.

In order to walk the whole thing you had to pay $6. I didn’t have any money on me and only had my phone. The lady at the counter said that I could use apple pay. I didn’t know how to do that and she briefly walked me through it. So then we texted Dad and asked if he could send us the debit card number with the expiration date and security code. He said to give him two minutes. We said that we wanted to walk out on this pier.

So he sent it and I set up my apple pay. I said to Elianna, “Do you even know what this means??” It seemed wild that all of a sudden all I had to do was touch my phone to a pay thing and that it counted as money. I sent Dad a text with double exclamation points and a smiley emoji with hearts that said, “Thank you!!” He said with a single exclamation to have fun.

We walked to the edge of the pier and then eventually turned back. We asked a lady to take a picture so we didn’t bother the fisherman. They thankfully had a bathroom which is what I was hoping they’d have. We made the journey back in I don’t know how much time. I hadn’t walked that far since the day we climbed our mountain. I had my sweater on my head to protect my head from the sun. We carried our sandals and walked along.

“With Freudian analysis melancholy was considered a state in which the suffering subject falls in love with his own pain, holding on to it as a substitute for love.”
~Julian de Medeiros, Substack post~

They say the person you think of when you look out at the ocean is the person you’re in love with. I was telling this to my daughter as we walked along the shore. “Really. Interesting”, she said, then followed it up with, “You thinking about Dad?” Actually I was, very happy with this realization. “Yeah”, I said, “I was thinking about the trip we took down here once.” I was looking to see if I could recognize any of the places we’d been.

“I guess that means we’re in love”, my heart lifted and bright, and the words spoken almost to the point where it could’ve been an exclamation. “Woo!”, she said, and I smiled at her exclaimed response. “Well”, she went on, “That you’re in love with him at least.” Dang, girl. I don’t think she meant anything by it. “Right…”, I said, still walking.

The day was not going well and we could not move past this. “Dad”, I said, and all the things going on while also trying to be discreet. “I just don’t know why this particular thing, this pain, keeps coming back when I have asked God to heal it, to take it away…” “No.” What? “There is no asking God to take it away”. I was shocked. I thought he’d be proud of me for saying that. “You strap it to a rocket, blast it into space. You let it go.”

Elianna and I made it to Gulf Shores. We left at 4:15 and arrived a little after 6PM. The first six hours of the trip flew by which is a benefit of leaving early and getting driving hours while it’s dark. We stopped at some terrible gas station with no coffee and dirty bathrooms and that’s when things started to becoming rougher between us.

I’m realizing you can think that you are basically healed and then wake up to realize there is still a lot down there. I can feel like I’m surrendered and seeking God for fulfillment and then all of a sudden be wondering why it still seems to me even now that God is not enough and that I actually still crave and desire things from people.

But all of that is about me and I am not the only person who exists in the world or who hurts. That helps for a little while to take my eyes off myself. I’m still asking God, in the exact same place it seems, to heal and take away this pain. In the meantime I’m going to try my best to have fun and be grateful for the time that we get to have here.

Group went well again this morning. I found out today that they used to have group there four mornings a week as an official outpatient program like the one where I did my practicum. But after covid it kind of died and was never the same. There was a woman there today who was about to celebrate her 1-year anniversary of sobriety.

Elianna and I are getting ready to go on a trip to Gulf Shores. We’re supposed to leave around 4 in the morning and get in before sunset. It took a while to decide whether to fly or drive. Ultimately I didn’t want to have to mess with getting plane tickets and then renting a car. It seemed easier to just to drive and only have to rent the place to stay.

The kids have had a good spring break. Lots of wedding plans have been worked on and Laura received her engagement pictures back from the lady today. We looked through them all and they are all very nice. She was over for most of the day but Ethan has another friend over tonight. I’m diffusing orange essential oil so hopefully that helps.

“…but on the other hand, a better hope is introduced, through which we draw near to God.”
~Hebrews 7:19~

“Dear God, help me to to be satisfied”, I prayed in the morning. Last night while I was sitting in church my mind started wandering to all the wrong places. Must be nice to have a stroke and get a free pass out of Lent (God, I’m sorry). They were going to need help once he was out of the hospital. Someone to sit with him when his wife wasn’t there. Meals would also be nice.

God, please, this is not me asking for some divine retribution in order to purge me of sin and humble me with your tragedies. I don’t need to be blown away as your people show up magnificently in the face of the heartbreak. But can I just say that it hurt that I was alone for so much, that no one really knew the true depth and the pain I had.

Was I on the prayer list at all? Not that I saw. But was there that lady who texted me almost every single day? Was there that one who brought over five meals early on? Was there the collection of cards from the women’s group after I’d not been in church for several months? I texted the food lady this morning and thanked her. It was a sign to me that yes, someone did really care.

I’m trying to think if there are any exceptions, but besides certain people in my immediate family, anyone I have ever even attempted to let into the darkness of my mind and certain painful experiences has either not understood or ended up distancing themselves in some way. Even if they helped me, the relationship was changed.

But not always for the worst. No, I don’t want a stroke, I want a cleansing of the mind, a divine reworking so that, frankly, I do not become pissed when I remember the past. I want the church to be healing place that people recommend to others, and if at all possible, I want to be a person who helps to make it that way. The satisfaction is in the Savior who took away all our sins.

Today in group we watched this video of an alcoholic man in end-stage addiction. They built it up to the point where he made the choice to go to rehab after a medical evaluation revealed his internal organs were already in shut down. His name was Ryan and he had a mother, ex-girlfriend, grandfather, and brother who all cared about him.

He ended up dying. I didn’t think that would happen. His mother had talked about his smile and how he had a beautiful smile and how she couldn’t wait to have him back. I was thinking, “Oh wow. This is going to be great when he goes to rehab, gets better, and we get to see his sober smile.” The supervisor said interns don’t usually like that one.

I wanted to cry but there was nowhere to do so. We went back upstairs and the four of us processed and asked our questions for not quite an hour. I’m getting used to having the other students there and like them. It was awkward when he told them to email with their availability in order to meet and go over a video of their individual sessions.

They each have two now and I have one, a guy who first started today. I have yet to have just a normal time. The initial session is supposed to last for two hours but he said when he got there that he only had 45 minutes today. So I didn’t even end up doing the assessment part. I thought it was more important to let him talk than get that done.

So I didn’t try to do it. When he started telling me his problems I was like YES in my head. Like I was so excited to be able to deal with them. That probably sounds completely weird. But there were also those nagging fears involved like, “What if he decides he doesn’t want to come back?” We have to wait two weeks for the next time.

It just seems like so long. He can only meet on Wednesdays and the next Wednesday I was busy. We were standing at the desk with the secretary and the supervisor asked how it went. I was still processing and in the moment said, “I think okay??” He’s got us trained to talk to him after group but that’s not how it works with individual sessions.

Like you just kind of have to chart and keep going. So that doesn’t feel right but I shut my computer and sadly walked out the door. I wanted to be there longer but had nothing productive left to do. In church tonight I kept thinking about Ryan and the video and wanted to cry again but couldn’t there. Instead I just stayed for the whole service.

My new summer project is going to be getting the downstairs ready to be a bridal suite for the girls. With the CGC booked, and the guys and girls both needing a place to get ready, I’d already been thinking about how this might work. It came up again during our birthday supper and dessert. And I became even more excited when I realized this could be the catalyst I needed to finally be able to get some new carpet down there.

The boys said we’re going to need a lot of Febreeze. I don’t think we will if we clean it up really nice, and like I said, the carpet will help. Ethan asked what was going to happen to his room. Considering he barely ever used it, and that the only practical purpose it serves is to store a wall half stacked with stuff, I said he was going to take his stuff when he moved. I don’t really have a set vision for the room.

Josh and I already talked about making Elianna’s room a guest room. We’re going to have more guest room and space than we know what to do with. I haven’t really thought about the truths of her leaving. When the boys and I were out for a walk with Zorro this morning I said we were probably going to end up dog sitting a lot. If she’s going to be in school while also working, somebody is going to have to help watch him.

Laura looked so pretty tonight for their pictures. Bless her heart. Something about her white dress and her hair and the effort she put into finding someone to take pictures. It just makes me want to cry for some reason. Girls put so much of their heart into these things. She truly is such a sweet and beautiful person and I don’t know why I’m worrying so much instead of radically thanking God for this gift.

I’ve told my brother before that he should come live with us. Save some money. Finish school. They have a Target down here that he could transfer his job to. I remember feeling proud of myself when I would stock up on diapers. Something about bringing two boxes up to the counter then unpacking them into their spots in the changing area gave me a feeling of gratitude and security for having been given such a wonderful life.