Actively Trying To Process

What kind of person condones watching one human being cause the suffering of another?

Let’s take it a step further: what kind of parent supports their child’s spouse causing harm to her own parents without trying to figure out what is going on? What kind of parent tells another parent that they need to give their child space, and to back off? What kind of parent is ok with watching an adult child tear apart their nuclear family, their own parents, with no explanation and seemingly condone this type of behavior?

Would you condone some girlfriend/boyfriend/fiancé/spouse of your child being mean to and blocking contact with their own family without any reason? And be supportive of this behavior? Is this a new normal? Is this OK?

How do people solve problems if they won’t discuss said problems? We don’t even know what the problems are.

I tried to reach out to my daughter’s “in-laws” and was told she needed space and that I should leave her alone. That was back in February. Today I found out that they (my daughter and her “husband”) aren’t even legally married. The hits keep coming.

So, this all got me thinking about what kind of person it takes to be ok with watching someone self destruct. 

As a parent, especially, I would imagine that the “in-laws”- the other family- should be able to  put themselves in our (my husband’s and my) shoes, and understand the FRANTIC DESPERATION we feel for our daughter. And how much we miss her. And love her. And just want her back in our lives. I know I’d do it for them. If the proverbial shoe were on the other foot, I’d at least have a conversation. Or attempt to.

I guess my question is, “Can you really be neutral in a situation such as this?”

When this nightmare began, I respected that my other kids were claiming neutrality, but I’m beginning to see that if you are “neutral” and still speaking to the person who is actively causing harm to another family member, you can’t possibly be neutral. You are condoning the harmful behavior. 

And there in lies a huge, glaring issue: the kids (my kids) aren’t neutral, they’ve picked their proverbial sides, as the saying goes. Not that I’m trying to get anyone to choose a side, but I AM trying to get them to see that they aren’t helping the situation by being “neutral” - they are only further contributing to this division. They, too, are condoning the behavior of no contact and yes, it is mean, the notion of just up and telling the family that raised you, gave you all kinds of opportunities, and love, love, loved you in a way you couldn’t possibly comprehend, that well, you simply just don’t matter anymore.

I am so very sad. I suspect my daughter is morbidly sad. I feel it. I’m a high-functioning empath, after all. I feel everything. I feel my huge sad emotions, my husband’s, her’s, and even her siblings’.

And the more I try to find a solution, the worse it gets.

SO… GOD… Thy will be done, Thy kingdom come. I feel undone, and I am fully relying on YOU.

Peace.

                                       

Grieving Is Not Linear

I was reading my devotional- but first, actually, I was on Instagram. For all of three minutes, and that was long enough to spike the heart rate, blood pressure, anxiety, and anger, when I felt God nudge me gently (may be not so gently) to NOT start the day this way, and to look up. 

So, I felt like not rebelling, and tried obedience instead, and moved on to my devotion. I’m doing a lot of devotions on grief right now, because I am, once again, in a season of heavy losses. I was incredibly sad when my mother and grandmother died within six weeks of each other in 2019. That grief cycle was expected, and very hard to process. The two most important women in my life were gone, and gone in the wrong order, and gone rather unexpectantly (in my mother’s case). The grief, sadness, and guilt I felt took forever to process. But GOD… and a very good therapist helped me process and got me back on my feet again. This time,,, it’s.. something else entirely.

I feel, most of the time lately, that life is just a mounting series of losses. Some people experienced them harder than others, some are more resilient, some are not. Growing up as a Navy Brat (represent!), I learned very early on to be resilient with moves every three years, changing schools, friendships, relationships, communities, etc. And I’m better for it. Growing up with faith, and in a church certainly formed a worldview that centered around things of Heaven, and not things of this temporary Earth. These types of grief and dealing with the day to day, year to year changes, and yes, sometimes losses, were easier to process, feel, and move on. Life is, after all, a circle of sorts.

But, one cannot escape grief.

THIS season, is so very hard. It is so very painful. I and my family are so hurting and confused and blindsided that not only are we sad, but we don’t understand. None of us. It’s like someone died, but she didn’t, and we don’t know why, because she won’t tell us or talk to us, and we can’t reach her. No one thinks she is OK, and it would appear that she doesn’t care that we are worried sick for her.

It’s hard to process grief, and sadness, when you can’t even comprehend the why behind it.

Which brings me to my Bible devotion this morning, and a little bit of an a-ha moment, a tiny epiphany, and maybe a little, quiet Hallelujah.

Jesus knew He was on Earth to die on the cross for us. He knew it His whole life- for thirtyish years, He was aware of God’s Plan, THE PLAN. 

The night before He was going to die, though, He took His best friends with Him to the garden and told them how scared He was- ‘grieved- even to the point of death.” Which, He knew was coming. His friends, I’m sure, were confused, but worried, and a little exhausted, obviously, because they fell asleep when He went further on without them to pray. 

Jesus asked His Father if there was any other way, if there was any conceivable notion to to change the part where He had to die on the cross, If, there was somehow, some possible way to escape this part of the story, could it possibly happen? 

Then Jesus says, “BUT Your way, not Mine, be done.”

Your way. Not mine. Even Jesus had to step forward in faith, trusting His Father’s will. 

God ALWAYS has a plan. Always. He sees me. He sees us. He sees her. He is in control.

I do NOT like right now. I do not feel like all is well with my soul- even though I sing it, hoping that if I sing and praise, and give the words to Heaven, that I’ll start to know in my head, what I do believe in my heart is true. I’m human, with very human thoughts and feelings, but I do know my faith, and my God is bigger than this.

I need to keep moving forward. I need to keep praying. I need to trust.

Thy will be done.

It is SO NOT EASY.

It still hurts. It still sucks. 

But, GOD.

Oh, January

As per usual, January was a s**t show (don’t let that picture fool you, it’s from February). I don’t know why we can’t have a calm January, but , there we were. Last year, January started with my worst bout of covid yet, a broken foot and a tree crashing through our house (that took months to fix). This year, the drama was more emotional, but still devastating, and I was  recovering from my second back surgery in three months. It was also one of our longest, coldest, iciest January months we’ve seen in these parts for quite a while- like two weeks in the twenties!

So, in February, when my husband got to travel to a warmer environment (say, like, Ft. Lauderdale), I asked if this was a can-your-wife-tag-along trip? He checked, and the answer was yes (yay!!)!! 

Praise God! For real! In all things, yes, even the trials, which is so hard, but, wow, was I happy for a little break! And, yes, I’m a comma girl.

So, I packed up all my sad, anxious thoughts sand put them in a Drop-Dead-Fred box, and prepared to head South. 

Of course, a few days before we flew, the terrible Potomac crash happened. I’m already a nervous flier, but this amped up those feelings, in addition to the overwhelming feelings of the tragedy of it all. Then the Pennsylvania crash happened. Terrible and Sad. Then there was another crash. Anxiety. What was also so somber feeling, is that we have peripheral connections to the community of the people involved in the crashes (and recovery efforts), especially the Potomac one. Passing the area where the recovery operations were set up was sobering, and from the airport we could see the crews, with their equipment, working out on the water.

When we finally took off, I was sobbing in my seat. It wasn’t from the fear or the anxiety, though. I could actually feel the heaviness and sorrow from the site on the Potomac. Being an empath is hard. Sometimes, these overwhelming feelings surprise me. Prayers.

Landing in Ft. Lauderdale was surreal. It was around 45 degrees when we left DC, and it was sunny and 76 degrees when we landed. Making sure the Drop-Dead-Fred box was secure on the shelf, I set out to seek active relaxation (so not good at that), continued recovery (nurses are the worst patients ever), and good old reflection and rest. 

It’s a work in progress. Trying to come to grip with the reality that one of my children is suffering greatly, and she blames me, and coming to terms with not being able to fix some things, is devastatingly, overwhelmingly painful. I know that it is not all me, and I know she is casting blame, and I know God loves her more than even I do, but… It is hard to be in this space. 

Along those lines, there is something about physically being in a different location to control-alt-delete. This trip was not about living it up in sunny Florida. This trip was a pause. A take a breath. A recharge (like, literally, I solar-paneled recharge). A long talk with Jesus.

It was good.

I know it is going to get worse before it gets better, and I am so not looking forward to it. However, as always, I do have my faith. And I don’t quit. 

Still…. I realize

Once again, I am looking to the hills, where my Help comes from, the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth. I desperately am reminding myself of who I am, Whose I am, and Who loves me. I am drawn closest to God when I am hurting. I feel His presence most acutely when I am clinging desperately to His promises.

It’s been a ride, people. I swear, every year comes and goes and I think, “Geesh! Well, that was crazy!”

This year has been that and so much more. I have spent the greater part of today writing and publishing a pretty detailed, very painful, very private post about the last few months of this year and how they have impacted me. Then, in talking about said post with Mr. Mark, in which he (very rightly) pointed out how some of that information is nobody’s business, and what did I have to gain by putting “out there” on the internet for “everyone”? Needless to say, I took it down. My angsty mind and hurt, angry emotions were very much on board with “it’s my business, and whomever else has heard about it from other sources’ needs to hear about it from my point of view, and  if one is going to act a fool, and play me ass a fool even unwittingly, one may as well get the whole damn truth out there…”

Alas. here we are. Just know that when you get hurt by those whom you love the most, God still calls you to be His and act accordingly. No matter how hard that may be, I think it falls under the love your neighbor (your children, your family, your spouse) rule. Plus, acting out says something about your character. Good or bad. 

So, here is a little tidbit about mine:

Those of you who know me,  KNOW that I love fiercely. I am all in. One thousand percent. I have raised my family this way- with all the fierce love. I have made sure every one of my kids knows that they are loved fiercely. My friends know I love them fiercely, too. So, can I tell you exactly how I am so crushed and that I take it so personally when I am accused of anything less? Well, it sucks, for one. It hurts unbelievably to me that someone close to me could possibly fathom that I would not move mountains for them in a second if that is what is required for the situation. But, that is neither here nor there, apparently, because someone has forgotten who she is, Whose she is, and Who loves her (and I’m not talking about me, here).

Lesson of the year:

To be clear:

Remember who you are.

Remember Whose you are.

Remember Who loves you.