Going Back in Time

This is going to be an odd time on the blog where I right merely to refer you to what I posted way back when. All that time, I was still writing. I just wasn't ready to publish.

Now is the time.

 It's important to me to publish them in chronological order. This is a journal after all.

You can find the next entry here.

The Story Unfolds

I’ve waited 11 months to tell this story.

I’m not looking for sympathy.

I’m telling it in hopes that my journey might help others. I’m telling it so that you can see that everyone struggles. I’m telling it so that we can all remember that though our struggles help us become who we are, they do not define us. I’m telling this so that one day, when I’m on the other side of it, I will not forget what it took to get me there. I’m telling it to remind myself that even when things don’t go my way and it feels like God may have forgotten me, He hasn’t.

God does not cause the pain in our lives. He carries us through it.

He is carrying me now. He always will. May I never, ever forget that.

The whole story is not here yet, but I’m working on it. For now, you can start here. For some reason I can't see it when I pull up the August 2014 page from the blog roll on the left, so I'll include the missing links here, here, here and here and hope the rest show up on your page.

Over the next days and weeks I’ll go back and fill in some of the gaps.

Don’t read my story and worry about me. Read it and pray for me. When you see me, remind me that God is in control, and He does it much better than I do.  Help me remember that God’s got this.

I know He does, but sometimes I need a little reminder.

Moving On

As I sit here in my hotel room on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, I am finally finding a chunk of time to return to this cathartic place. It’s been another challenging season. This one is on the tails of this challenging season, which was on the tails of this one. Are you seeing a trend here? I’m certainly feeling it.

During a season when taking an anniversary trip was out of the question, God provided one for us. Nelson is attending a conference. It just so happens that it’s in New Orleans, they invited me to join him…AND they are paying for everything. The fact that it fell on the week of our anniversary and that my parents graciously agreed to stay with our kids was icing on the cake (Thanks Mom and Dad!).

God knows what you need when you need it. I am so grateful.

I think I have made a mistake of steering clear of this place during hard times. I’m going to work to rectify that.

Circumstances have changed so that Nelson has the computer when he’s working, which is often from before the sun rises until well after the kids go to bed. When he’s not out, he’s working from home with it. When I get the chance to use it, I can hardly form an intelligent thought, let alone put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). He reminds me that I can use the kids’ computer but it’s not the same version and trying to make that work when I can’t even make my mind work is nearly impossible.

The problem is, that when I’m not writing here, I’m writing in my head. So the need to get things down is ever present, even when circumstances don’t allow it.

But that’s about to change. I don’t know how I’m going to make it work, but I now know that I have to.  I’ve moved through the crossroad and I’m on my way to tell my story.

The Crossroad

Two roads diverged in the wood and there I stand. I’m in the middle looking each way. I have no idea where I am or where each road will lead, so I stand…and stare…and wait.

This is not where I saw myself. Not that I never thought I would reach a crossroad. No. In fact, there have been many. I’ve stood there for a brief second, or two, made a decision, discerned a direction and off I went. Life is full of them. Been there. Done that.

The crossroad is not the hard part. It’s the standing there watching myself from the outside. Standing there with an unsure direction. It’s standing there…doing nothing, that’s eating at me.

I don’t stand still. I don’t sit around. I don’t stay undecided. I do. I go. I choose.

Except that I’m not.

Maybe my problem this time is not the decision to be made, but the wonder at where I am and why I’m here in the first place. I’m a planner. I’m a studier. I’m a thinker and a doer.

However, I didn’t walk down this road in the first place. I didn’t map out this course. I didn’t intend anything about this and it’s killing me. This is not my thing. This is not my choice. I don’t have this.

So I stand and stare into space.

That’s the big picture of the little crossroads at which I stand. And just getting the words out, just envisioning the scene helps because, no matter how I got here, I can’t just stay. Life is not sedentary. There is a direction to go and a choice to be made that can only be done by me.

I take a deep breath while closing my eyes. I breathe deeply. I feel the environment. Suddenly, my eyes pop open and see the road more clearly than I’ve seen it before.  It’s time to move away from this stale place. In the staleness, nothing can grow.

Sometimes the decision is not direction. Sometimes the decision is to move or to stay. And finally, I realize I cannot stay in this place anymore. It’s time to move. It’s time to do.

I step forward. The roads no longer matter. I plunge ahead in faith that if I keep moving, wherever I end up is going to be better than the middle of nowhere.

That’s a good start.