It Is Those Tiny Things

Sometimes it is just the tiny things that turn a good day into a tough day.

One friend saw me at church and came up to me with a smile. "It's so good to see your family back together again!"

He was talking about my husband being home from his trips....

I looked up with the closest imitation of a smile I could come up with and a quick "thank-you" and walked away.

Ouch.

We are not back together. We are still fractured, limping. And last night's visit did not go well.

It is those tiny things which makes life hard.

Then again, it is those tiny things which make it good, too. My husband came over this afternoon, and shut himself inside his office to study. There was a party going on where he was staying, and he had a long-standing commitment to speak to a group this evening. So he studied, and we tried to be quiet and it was awkward. He had left last night irritated, and the kids and I tense up very quickly when daddy is irritated.... it is like the reactions of someone who has lived through a major earthquake responding to small vibrations in a building - instant alertness.

He came home after speaking, and brought me chocolate. My favorite type with coconut. I warmed up some food for him, and he made me tea, and we sat and watched TV. Too tired to do much else. I had cleaned son #3's room.... that job is enough to send anyone off the deep end! Son #3 is a very sweet kid, but he has some inability to keep the same thought in his head for more than three seconds, and he talks incessantly.

It is in the little things.

I gave in on some little things, too. I watched some football.

Little things - he grabbed the snow shovel and cleared off the driveway and sidewalk before he left. Yeah, we have snow, lots of it! This is from a husband who would not even get out of bed last winter, even when it would take me two hours to shovel my way out to get the kids to school on time.

So there are little things, and they are good. I am just tired very easily. This is wearing on me.

And Then Those Things Which Strike Fear Into Your Heart

Tomorrow, I have to face son #1's room. If you see me stark raving mad drooling in the corner of a mental institution tomorrow night, you'll know why! Son #1 has ODD- Organizational Disability Disorder (yes, I'm kidding...). He hasn't even figured out how to organize his feet to walk down stairs, but simply falls down them in sections! He also has a great love of figuring out how anything works - or at least how anything can be taken apart and spread all over his room. His latest project was trying to disassemble a bicycle to build a unicycle. Then there was the "collect old electronic equipment off the curbsides and disassemble them into minuscule pieces" phase. I know, I know - he may one day grow up to be some highly creative engineer who pioneers the next new discovery.... but right now he is a kid with a room scary enough to make the bravest mom cringe!

Son #2 is milder. He can somewhat keep things clean and possesses the ability to know how to clean a room. His problem is not what shape his room is in but WHAT I will find in it! Birds nests with eggs, dehydrated snakes, cocoons on sticks, flowers and leaves of all types, and, of course, the huge rock collection. No big guess as to what field he will go into.

When I had only two sons, and they were only one and a half and three, I had an interesting insight into their interests and characters. We walked down the street in our home town on our way out of a fast food place, my two sons one on each hand. Both said, "ooh!" at the same time. I looked down. Son #1's eyes were on the road, "Ooh! big monster truck!" Son #2's eyes were on the ground. "Ooh! pretty flower!" Both of them equally captivated by what their eyes saw and totally oblivious to what their brother saw! Thankfully, these two dramatically opposite boys are also best friends and have worked out how to share in the other's interest and play well.

Now if only we could somehow squeeze son #3 into that tight brotherhood, I would be happy.

Quick Notes

I should really write some things about what is happening. It is just I either never know what to write, or I am too exhausted.

Thankful -
- for good changes I've seen in my husband
- for good conversations
- for decent Thanksgiving celebration and peace between family on the day.
- for a good birthday party for my daughter... no, it wasn't her birthday, that was earlier during the chaos.

Concerned -
- I still have decisions to make and wonder on what basis to make them and when
- I still see old habits and I still have unhealed wounds and the two do not always work together

Keep praying. Tonight did not go well, and I am concerned and unsure about tomorrow. Yet, it didn't go too badly, either... it is just the concerns... the knowing what how bad it can get that worries me. And yet there are good changes, too.

Pray that the good continues and the bad gradually disappears

Beautiful Scars

I wanted to share something that encouraged me this weekend. I was just reading and came across this and it stopped me in my tracks.

For several years as I began to deal with the aftermath of abuse, I had one prayer - "no scars". I wanted God to so heal me that there would be no scars left.

He is capable of it.

The difficult thing for us as His children is reconciling what God is capable of and what He choses to do. We all have our questions from times that God did not answer in a way He could have.

I had some of these questions when my daughter died before she was born...

My prayer was always, "no scars". Showing faith. I firmly believed that God could heal so I would not be a "damaged person". I still believe it. In fact, I still hold God to it. But something happened that changed my prayer.

I was away at a conference last year, doing very well, and very happy. Then one thing happened, someone gave me a book. I was happy to get the book. I had wanted it. But to see the title and know it was about abuse send me into a temporary down. I had to fight some tough feelings on my way to my room to put away the book, and on the way back, I argued with God, pleaded, begged Him to heal me to the point of no scars - so that I can be effective and that one small thing can not bring back waves of pain.

I continued on to the meeting where I heard something which stopped me in my tracks. The speaker was not even close to this subject. He was speaking about explaining Christ to one certain religious group. He had just said, "When people say to me, 'well, Jesus never died on the cross; He was switched with Judas at the last moment'.", then I can say, "Look at His scars. They are still in His hands today, and I know when I get to heaven, His hands will still bear those scars."

Screech...... life just did one of those screeching halts to a quiet pause...

Jesus bears scars. He does it as a testimony to what happened, to what He has done...

I stopped asking for "no scars" last year. I'd like to be this wonderful, whole, beautiful person with no scarring at all. But... What is the first reaction you have when you see a scar? Mine is to ask what happened. What happened?

Scars, healed scars, even healing scars, testify to the power of God to work in our lives. My new prayer has been "make my scars beautiful". Take this mess and make me beautiful. Make the scars bring questions and Your healing power be shown through me.

This weekend, I read this and stopped in my tracks again... I had been praying for our marriage and feeling useless and disqualified and sad about my mess. Since then, I've sat more quietly at God's feet. I really don't want more scars in my life, not really, not at all.... but if they come, make them beautiful.

This was from Nate Saint:

"If people come with no scars, we don’t want to listen to them. We listen to someone who’s been there. If we want to reach the world, they need to see that God meets us in our darkest hour. They need to see a God who’s worth taking a beating for, a God who sent His own personal family to be a Savior for us. When we take that kind of God into the world, we don’t show our muscle, we show our scars"

I've got a lot of wounds healing up right now, and I am still embarrassed at the scarring, but let it be. I need God. I also know that He can heal. I've seen Him do it before and I am confident in that.

Who To Listen To?

A few years ago, I got suddenly very sick while in a country whose medical care is questionable at best. I also did this feat while 99% of the missionary community (which was minuscule to start off with at that time) was out of the city. My husband rushed me to the hospital, where I fought to stay conscious enough to at least keep an eye on my medical care. Thankfully, the care was half-way decent, and I managed to stay halfway conscious. Two halves make a whole, don't they?

(If you are a nurse, and only if you are a nurse, I would tell you what made me sick... If you're not, trust me, you don't want to know!)

I found it exhausting, though. Trying to be alert and think when I was so weak. I wanted so badly to be able to close my eyes and drift off. Had either of the two missionary nurses or even the former lab tech been in town, I would have. But I could never rest.

I was given medication in my IV that caused a major allergic reaction... no one knew what it was or what to do about it, and no one was ever able to tell me what it was they put in that IV. Thankfully, my husband reacted without pausing to question when I said, "Stop that IV now!" A nurse tried to give me laxatives when I had the runs.... Several times, I had to send a nurse back to find out what a medication was. Simply saying, "Here swallow these pills. I don't know what they are, but the doctor would like you to take them." didn't cut it with me. (I know, nurses are horrible patients! - But when your nurse may have passed a test at school, or her uncle may have simply paid enough money for her to get a good mark, it is a little scary!

It was exhausting. I remember that.

I feel a little like that now. I feel like I can't close my eyes and rest.

My husband is pushing to come home right now. He arrives back in town tonight. He is learning good things and I am hearing good verbal progress. My thoughts on it are... sounds pretty good, but I'd like a day or two to meet face to face with him and see and hear directly from him. A few days to talk it over and talk about and agree with our next steps and actions.

He wasn't too happy with that answer, and kept pushing which was hard on me. But he said he was ok with it. I just want to talk first a few times. Make sure there are no red flags. Make sure we can handle a face to face conversation.

Then, my "here" pastor talked to me about it. He thinks differently. He does not even want to think about him coming back home. His comment was that "even if you both were wanting that, I would advise against it". He says he thinks we are looking at two months or so of slowly working on issues and all. "You have 13 years of pain behind you, so I don't want to go too fast."

Ok, true.... our marriage has created some pain, some of it pretty bad... But it has also been 13 years of "I love this guy, yeah we struggle often, but I love him, too".

I just don't know. I feel like I can't close my eyes and rest and know I am cared for. I have to keep watching.

It would be one thing if he had said, "well, when he gets home, we will evaluate and see how things are and discuss it then." But to say, "no, not thinking about it for two months."?! I am not a real big push-over anymore. Used to be, maybe. Not now. I don't think I am willing to give this decision over into someone else's hands, especially if I don't get the feeling that he is listening. I'd like advise, I'd like input, I'd like wisdom, but I am not giving over the decision to someone else. It is also my (or our)decision.

Another problem I can see coming up is what we believe. Hard to explain this one... I am a MK. My husband also grew up on the field, so we are both influenced by a wider spectrum of beliefs than one in one church in the US might be. I tend to be a good mix of conservative - partly because I am quiet and shy (well, maybe used to be?)and I like solid teaching - and not so conservative - because I find some life missing in straight conservative places... not the "life" like dancing and clapping, although I enjoy good worship times and miss that.... but life, like this is real life, this is God involved in our lives, like let's not put God in a box of what we think and only what we've seen...

We chose this church because it has some really good things in it, and are reasonably happy in it. I think, after being in a mixed group of believers on the field, it is hard to totally fit into one group and be totally happy. But, I know my husband has been learning about generational sins and praying for freedom for those - what I consider fairly solid teaching and no where near anything strange... but I've seen this "here" pastor react to things like that in horror. (Our home pastor would be fine with it, much more balanced.) "Here" Pastor is more on the line of "if you read your Bible and pray and try hard, you have strength and energy". It is almost like any discussion about the Spirit of God is not really allowed in the church. Oh, yeah, on paper, they believe the right things... but... in belief... I just don't know.

For example... talking one day about miracles and dreams and all in Sunday school... the general consensus was that God might do miracles (specifically healing), but they really hadn't heard of them and it would be hard to scientifically verify them. And pretty sure God doesn't often use dreams in today's world.... I sat there stunned... thinking... ya'll sure ain't been on the mission field! I believe firmly in dreams. God talked to me in a dream - way before I was old enough to "make it up". I don't believe that every dream that people say they have is from God..... but this is really a whole nother topic, isn't it? (would be interested in a conversation about how what we believe has changed on the field in contact with others and in seeing a bigger world than our little home church and town... ok, I never had one, but still.)

I just find myself, over the last few years, growing differently. A longing in me for more than dryness and right doctrine. Yet, I still highly value right doctrine, and I struggle with people who believe something only because they "feel" it. I don't know... perhaps I am a strictly conservative charismatic! :) I am just a mix, that is all... an MK, thoroughly happy to take from different cultures to be me and to realize that there is not one culture which "has it all". It is the same with churches, too.

I just worry how that is going to affect our working with our pastor.

Struggling here today. My husband comes home tonight, and I don't know what I want to say... knowing that what he wants is one thing, what I do is another, and what our "here" pastor wants is totally another. I want to ask for input, for guidance here.... yet who do I even ask? It is not a majority opinion poll, but how do I get godly guidance on this?

I might phone up my "home" pastor. There are two women who will also likely get a phone call today. Those of you who have been through this with me, feel free to tell me your opinion, too.

I feel like I am having a hard time focusing on the issues since I have to keep focusing on the how to get to the issues.

Perhaps there is good advice out there, but it requires digging for, not sitting and hoping to have it served to me on a platter....?

Ah, but I'd like it served up. One order of solid advice to go.

You have to read the signs in the window. I worked hard on them!

I've been doing some reading, and learning some things. I'll write more about that later on.

When Talking Honestly Might NOT Be Good

I'm ok with talking honestly to God. I figure He knows anyway. And God is pretty dependable. He is who He is, and He does not change.

It is people I have a problem with.

And it is with people who talk honestly about you without asking your permission that I have a real problem with.

I think there is a balance between hiding things and being transparent. There has to be.

But, my sister-in-law just wrote a letter to the whole family and informed them all that life is pretty stressful right now because of my brother's events, and because Ellie and her husband are having trouble and are separated at this time.

Thanks.

We hadn't told the whole extended family yet. Do they all need to know? I'm not sure.

And things are going better. In fact, it is likely that he will be moving back home within a few weeks here.

I didn't appreciate that at all.

There has to be a balance between transparency and privacy. And I would assume that in news like this, someone should have the choice of what is told.

But.... life goes on...

Now I get to answer more questions, and answering questions takes so much energy!

Talking Honestly

Something different for today. I had a good meeting today with our "here" pastor which is a relief. I don't have to make all the decisions today, so am taking one day at a time. I was talking to him about talking honestly to God - a habit I have developed over the last four years. I used to think we should bow our heads, close our eyes, and speak nice words to God. Over the last few years, as someone has shown me the beauty of transparency, I've learned to talk honestly with God.


I thought I would dig into the past for today's entry. This was a journal entry from about four years ago. It was the first time I began to talk to God honestly about my past and my struggles. From this time, God has begun to work in my life and I'm so thankful for the things He has done - although it has not always been easy!

(For those of you who read this and think you are missing something, I have offered to share more of my story in an article I wrote, but you will have ask for it and give me your e-mail.)

This was the title I put on this one:
"Glory"

Why, God? Why did you let it happen? Why do I look out at others who laugh and talk with smiles on their faces, and why does my heart cry? You say You love me, but would anyone let this happen to someone they love? Where were You? What were you doing when someone took this child aside to hurt, to use for their own sick needs? Do You not hear my pain, can You not see what this has done to me? Is there any hope? Will the pain ever go away? Why God? No one will love me now; there will be nothing the same. I have to carry this forever. People look at me different if they know. “Oh, there is that girl.” What am I to You – a piece of garbage lying on the street?

I hear in the path behind me echoes of another pain.

Why, God? Why did you let it happen? Why do I hear others laugh and play in the sunshine, and I sit in the dark? What did I do? Why would you do this to me? I sit in the garbage thrown at the side of the road. Is that what I am? All day people tease me, talk behind their hands. “He must have done a really big sin against God.” “I wonder what his parents did that God would judge them with a blind child?” Why would You judge me before I even knew how to look for milk at my mother’s breast? You say You see Your people and carry their sorrows, but where are You? I can’t see You anywhere.

Time heals all wounds, they say. No, it does not. It heals some. Some fade. Some things I learn to compensate for. I learn to go on. But some wounds never heal. I try to walk knowing God loves me, that He has forgiven me, washed me, and I am His. There are days I do fine, days I forget the pain for a moment. Then a shadow and searing pain fills my heart again. Where, oh where were You, God? You say to walk with You now and trust You. Trust a God who did not keep me safe before when I was even too small to keep myself safe?! How, Lord? How am I to trust You now? Why? I need an answer to why. Under all, it sits unanswered. People try to fill me with nice answers. None of them are nice. None of them even touch my pain. I need to hear from You. Why did You let it happen? Oh God, how am I to follow You when I can not trust You?

God, where are You? I sit all day in the dirt, hoping no one will kick me today. Hoping people see me. Perhaps pity will move them to give me a coin, something for bread. This is what I am - a blind, dirty beggar. Why, oh God, why me? What did I do that you would do this to me? Years and years of darkness, ridicule, pity, scorn and no end in sight. Never to know love; at the best only pity. No future, no real past either. Just one long day of sitting with the other garbage on the side of the road.

Again comes the pain. God, I know I have no right to demand answers from You. I know You are God and I am just Your child. Your thoughts are above mine and Your ways higher than mine, but Father, why? You say You know the future. Why did You let this happen to me if You knew I was going to follow You? Why did You let me be hurt? Why did You not stop all those horrible things that happened to me if You knew I would be Yours? I don’t understand.

Then one day, a crowd goes by. New voices. They stop in front of me. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he should be born blind?” Not again. Not a lesson again! Does anyone see me down here in the dirt? I do have ears. How could this be fair judgment for my sins - I was not even born yet! What could I have done to deserve this? I was too small. Wait. What is that answer? A new one? “Neither this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was in order that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

What? Oh yuck, now what? Mud on my eyes? A gentle voice, but why this? Is this some sort of a cruel joke? “Go and wash.” What am I – just garbage that people do these things to me? Wash. Yes, wash that mud off. Then I will feel better. Wait! I see light. I see more than light, I see water, a pool, people!! I see!!!

You chose me before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before You. In love, You predestined me to adoption … to the praise of the glory of Your grace which You freely bestowed on us. The reason I am chosen and made a child is to show Your glory. Is there in that perhaps an answer – maybe one I do not understand or always appreciate, but still an answer? Maybe You let us go through horrible things and suffer before we come to You so you can show your glory. Maybe You show it in two ways, first in choosing me from out of the garbage to be called Your child, and secondly, in transforming me into Your likeness.

I hear the echo of the man blind from birth. Jesus said that he was not blind because of his or his parent's sin, but so that God's glory could be shown. And it was shown. But that says nothing about the man before that great moment when he gets his sight and goes bounding around in great happiness. How many years did he suffer blind? How much did he hurt when he sat and heard the other kids playing stick ball in the streets, and how many insults did he get tossed at him?

Did he suffer?

Of course he did. But nothing is said about that. It is for Your glory.

See, now that we are Christians, we say happily, "Do anything with our lives for Your glory." But should I not have the same attitude for my life before You? Do You not have a right to do anything with my life before I knew You for Your glory? I do not understand all the time how You are glorified in things, but I don't know if that is important at all. I do know it is my job to glorify You, and if You choose to be glorified in my life in ways that I may not have chosen myself, that is ok. How much glory could You really have if I say, "You can be glorified in my life, but only this way or that"? If You can be glorified in it, maybe just to Yourself or whatever, then let it be, and I will be content.

I do not think that this is enough to answer all my questions and all my pain, but perhaps it is something I can offer to You - the hurt, the pain, and the shame - and say, "If You want to have it, then it is for You. Take it and glorify Your name through it. Show through my life that You are a God that can take a piece of human garbage, call me Your child, and make me in Your image - whole and complete."

When the people saw the man who had been born blind, they asked each other if this is him who was blind or not. One answered, "It is him." Others said, "no, it just looks like him." Let me so live that people say, "It can not be her; it must be someone like her. Let my life be one that I can say, 'I do not know everything, but this I do know - I was blind, and now I see'."

Silence

It has been a quiet two days. My husband did phone yesterday, but he only talked to the kids. I half expected to hear from him tonight, but silence.

Silence.... it could be good or it could be bad.... I don't know.

But it is unsettling.

Keep praying.

On the other side, the kids are happy, we've got the house somewhat under control again, and even laundry is getting done. My one son finally caught up on his math homework, and I helped my daughter finish her poster project just one day late!

Somehow, in a clean house, I feel better. More peaceful. I am not a spotless housekeeper, and I do not have toddlers and nursing babies anymore, so I have no good excuse for not coming up with a system that works in a general way. I like my house clean, but I've found out that when there is no fear of being yelled at when my husband comes home, I am much more able to concentrate and do household things in some order. The second week he was gone, I sat down mid-morning to a cup of tea after finishing the last cleaning jobs and sighed in relief. I hadn't felt so peaceful for a long time. Living under constant anger and criticism took much of my emotional energy, and it limited how effective and organized I could be.

Last week, it was my parent's move here which got me behind. A few days of collecting and carrying furniture up in to their apartment to get them set up, showing them where to shop, and getting them settled left no time to keep up at home. Today, I am back to normal. It is good to have a cup of tea without aching muscles and without the guilt of "I should be..."

Yeah, I could do ironing and mop the kitchen, but the house is generally clean. If I saw a car pull up right now, I wouldn't scramble to do anything. I'd just put on more water to boil.

Another change to the peace of the house is having the TV off. My husband watches TV every minute that he is home. He usually watches TV with his laptop on his lap and plays games while he watches. No one can be loud or get in the way of him watching TV. For the first week or two, the kids had it on all the time, but we've talked about it and introduced other things. Now they only watch one thing a day, and the house is more peaceful. Yes, as a side-effect, we have games and toys to clean up, but I like that. Today they are playing computer games, but only because my son finally won a Webkinz for a prize at school. He worked hard to get that prize - all so he could give it to his little sister. (One daughter born after three boys is growing up to think that all men will fall all over her to do whatever she wants and protect her from any slight!) So, right now they are playing on the computer and I am not watching their time tonight.

But the silencing of the constant noise box is wonderful. I can hear us all talk.

True - I can hear them all fight, too. But now we can address that and learn to get along.

I'm still hoping I hear from my husband soon, but I don't know. He might be angry for another few weeks. I hope not. I just don't know.

A friend told me it might not be a bad thing if the counselors where he is actually see him when he is angry. Maybe. I don't know. All I hear is silence.

I tried to rest and enjoy the silence today in a mostly cleaned house.

And Here We Go Down Again!

I hate rollercoasters! I think I will never go on one again.

Today, we went on a down hill. I try to remind myself that the downs are bound to come, and they will keep coming, and gradually the downs will be less and the flats or ups will be more, but I still hate the downs!

Today, I hear him saying all the old things that he was saying. That he has a right to be angry. That if he is hurt, someone has to pay. That he is justified.

He wants, when he comes back, to go away the two of us and talk about all the wonderful things he is learning and all this. I am up for spending time with him, and yes, it would be wonderful to be able to do that away from the daily responsibilities of caring for the kids. But... I am leery about spending so much time one on one with him. I suggested how about if we do that somewhere where there is someone to help us listen to each other and step in if we have trouble. No. He didn't want that - interfering and distracting, he says. I'm not sure. I know him. He will have good days, and that's great. And he will have bad days, and we will need a person walking alongside to be able to help out then.

I don't know what to do. Pray for the best choice for the next step in a week. Pray for him to see truth.

I wrote him tonight after we talked. I told him that he can not be both wrong and justified. He has to make a decision. It can not be both justified and wrong.

But I am discouraged today.

That was all I had said that started off this, "I am tired. It has been a rough two months, and I am tired and hurt. Living under anger for two months has been rough for me and I need some time to rest and heal."

His response was and instant and powerful, "Well, I've been hurt, too! And someone needs to apologize if I was hurt!"

Is all hurt the fault of someone else? Does all hurt mean you have to look for someone to pay? These are questions I have today.

Looking for someone to pay in hurt for your hurts is revenge, not forgiveness. He is wanting today for me to pay in hurt for the hurt my dad hurt him with when he made that business decision that should not have been done. He wants me to chose to support him in being nasty back. I won't. So then he says that I should pay because I support someone who hurt him. I don't. I think my dad had no authority to do what he did and it was wrong. But we just don't turn around and inflict pain.

Tough day today. But I am more sure that I do not want to just go on a three day vacation with him and talk alone and everything will be fine.

Pray for answers. I still think he is learning good things. It is now the process of taking good things and actually putting them into his thought patterns - transforming how he thinks - and that is a process which takes time.

Why You Should Not Spell "Stop" In Church

Ok - Those of you who have been reading will already know that my daughter does not have the best reputation in church. Actually, she is a nice kid, and she listens in church. In fact, her first three sermons "sitting in" church, she listened to with great enthusiasm. The first was about Abraham mourning Sarah's death. She drew a picture of Sarah lying on the ground with her tongue stuck out - "See, like this (she stuck her tongue out sideways and closed her eyes in a grimace), she's dead."

The next week was no better. It was about Nabal and Abigail. One more dead guy drawn into her church notebook. A fat dead guy. Mouth open, tongue out, fat belly sticking up.

Then we had a visiting pastor and I thought, "Surely we will get better." Nope. Another dead guy sermon. I forget which one. When our pastor returned, I sent him an e-mail. "Please don't preach about a dead person this week. My daughter's church notebook is all drawings of dead people so far!"

He didn't. He preached about something else. Since then, my daughter has lost her rapt attention in church. In fact, without dead guys, church has become much more boring. So she began to work on copying letters from the bulletin, and then moved on into interest in spelling words.

We've spelled "God" and "Mom" and "Dad" and "cat". But, let me pass on a piece of advice - If your child asks you to spell "stop" in church - DON'T!

She carefully worked her way through the letters, writing it big in her notebook. I looked out the corner of my eye pleased with her concentration and dedicated effort to learn to write and spell. Then she carefully ripped it out of her little notebook.....

and held it up and waved it at the pastor!!!

(did I mention we always sit in the second row from the front?)

So... well... I'm not too surprised that the pastor's wife said something about her reading in church... who knows what she might do next!

Learning to Talk

My husband phoned again tonight. We talked for three hours. We disagreed on something. I want something and he wants something else. I have one opinion about a choice and he has another. I don't like his opinion. I really think mine is better. He really likes his opinion. So we talked.

It took three hours of carefully discussing issues around this and issues it brought up. It was hard work. In the end, I did not get the choice I wanted. But that is ok, too. I did get to explain my opinion and get heard. I also got to express my emotions on the issue and on the having to accept a choice that was not my first choice, and I felt he listened to those emotions. He was able to understand that my emotions of sadness or disappointment are my emotions coming from not getting what I wanted, even if I am choosing to take his choice. They are just emotions, normal disappointment, and not an attack on him or a means of manipulating him. He can accept them and comfort them and still stay firm on his decision.

It was hard work. I'm tired now. But it was a good talk. We're working on it. We did not reach a final decision on details, but we did reach a decision on how the decision will be made.

Progress.... it's slow and hard work, but it is definitely happening.