Healing

Men and Emotions

/ David Londeree / 1 Comment

I’m part of a men’s group at my church. Our church has Wednesday night small groups, and ours was started four years ago because there wasn’t already a men’s group on the schedule. Within a couple of months, we had started a series called “33”, which used the 33 years of Jesus’ life to teach us a true model of biblical manhood. We had no clue of the impact that was going to come when we learned the concept of how men typically handle emotions. It was called the Manhole Concept. We learned that most men take all of their emotions and stuff them down in a manhole. Then we cover the manhole so no one can see our emotions and so they can’t get out. Finally, for good measure, we park our trucks over top of the manhole so that no one can get to the manhole cover and let our emotions out. One by one, each of us in the room realized that this is exactly what we did with our feelings and emotions. 

Our group has grown over the last several years, and we are in the midst of another very challenging series that is taking us to a very similar place. Earlier this week, I posed some questions about emotions to my buddies in our group chat. 1) What were you taught about emotions as a boy? 2)What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear the word “emotions”? 3)How do you understand your emotions in the current season of your life? Here are the common threads from the responses I got:

  • Most boys aren’t taught at all about emotions by a male figure in their life. 
  • Emotions are equated to weakness. More than one man responded that they were taught to “suck it up and be a man.”
  • Most of us struggle to understand emotions. Nearly all of us struggle to express them. 
  • Most men experience extremes when it comes to emotions. Either we don’t express them at all, or we express too much of one. 
  • The one emotion that is expressed by most men is anger. And a lot of times, this emotion is stuffed until we explode. 
  • And this one quote really summed up how a lot of us view emotions: “Whether you are hurt or happy, that is something that another person can use to manipulate you.”

I didn’t get a single man respond to me and say that they were taught about the healthy expression of emotions. And I would venture to say that most men wouldn’t even know how to identify the different feelings that they were experiencing. When I went through counseling during the end of my first marriage, my counselor put me through an exercise to help me with this. He gave me a chart with different emotions on it. He directed me to pick my favorite TV show, and while I was watching the show, he told me to refer to the chart and see if I could identify the different emotions that were being portrayed on the screen. The goal was to get me to a place of identifying and acknowledging my emotions. This simple exercise helped me more than I thought it would. I’m still not the best at expressing my emotions, but I can say that I am finally in the place in my life that I don’t believe there is anything wrong with me for expressing them. 

The reason that most boys aren’t taught about emotions is actually pretty simple. It’s because their dads weren’t taught either. Most of the time, this is a generational pattern that just keeps getting passed along. So boys are influenced by their favorite athlete, action hero, or in today’s day and time, their favorite social media personality. None of these are healthy options. Another epidemic in today’s society that is magnifying this is that many boys are growing up without fathers. So they are learning about emotions from their mothers or grandmothers. Even the healthiest woman isn’t going to be able to teach a boy how to express emotions as a healthy man. 

To begin to understand our emotions, we have to understand that God created each one of us with emotions. Doesn’t it stand to reason that if he gave them to us, then they aren’t bad? Realizing that emotions are a gift helps us experience them without feeling guilt or shame. It should keep us from denying them or stuffing them like most men do. Denying our feelings causes them to fester inside of us. We may fool ourselves into thinking that we have resolved the feeling, but all we have really done is sweep it under the rug for it to come out in an unhealthy way later. Another important aspect of understanding our emotions is that they are 100% biblical. This is one of the reasons why I read the Psalms each time I pick up my Bible. I read other books as well, but the Psalms are part of my regular pattern. The Psalms give us permission to express our emotions to the Lord. We are free to feel, and to feel intensely, strongly, and passionately. Yes, that’s right men, this absolutely applies to you. Ever read Psalm 13? To all of you who think the Bible is full of inspiration and Hobby Lobby wall art quotes, try this on for size: “Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way? How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, with sorrow in my heart every day? How long will my enemy have the upper hand?” – Psalm 13: 1-2.

Not only are emotions biblical, Jesus experienced emotions. John 2 contains the well-known passage describing when Jesus chased everyone out of the temple and turned over the tables. Anyone want to guess what emotion that is? If Jesus can express it, then so can we! My favorite part of this account is how John describes Jesus making a whip to use as he drove these people out of the temple. Using my spiritual imagination, I like to picture an angry Jesus, just outside the temple. Close enough to see his Father’s house being used in an unholy way. His blood pressure is up, his face is flushed, and his eyes are hyper-focused. He takes the time to make a whip. I like to think that during the time that it took to make the whip, Jesus was praying to his Father about how to express this emotion of anger the right way. Being the Son of God, he could have snapped his fingers and a whip would have appeared. Maybe that is what happened. But I like to imagine that Jesus took his time so that the unhealthy portion of his anger was processed. It helps me feel the humanity of Jesus and his emotions to think of it this way. 

Emotions are necessary and right. The emotion is not wrong or sinful in and of itself, but it can be misdirected and we may act incorrectly in response to it. This is when emotions can turn into a sin, when they are connected to a sinful thought in our hearts and then acted out in a sinful action by our flesh. But the emotion itself is part of who we are. Men, we have to stop believing the lie that our emotions are wrong and weak. If this is your perspective, you need to heal from that. It’s time to go back into your past and find the root of that mindset, determine why you think that way, and then make a commitment to change. Our emotions were given to us for a reason. It’s time that we acknowledge that and allow ourselves to feel them without guilt or shame. They are a gift from God, who knew exactly what he was doing when He created us.

Planting Peace

/ Hope and Dave / Leave a comment

At this point in the year, exactly ten years ago, I was headed toward the most chaotic and tumultuous time in my life. I remember feeling uneasiness, but I don’t think I could have predicted exactly what was coming. Had I known, I likely would have curled up in a little ball and just laid down in the floor until it all passed. Thankfully, we aren’t able to see those trains of life that are headed straight toward us. Here’s a very brief snapshot of what was headed my way in 2011, beginning in early March:

  1. My first wife told me she wanted to separate and decided to move out of the home that we had shared for 11 of our 13 years of marriage. She moved out several weeks later.
  2. I went from seeing my sons (then ages 3, 5, and 8) every day to seeing them 3-4 days a week. 
  3. In the fall of 2011, when it was obvious that my marriage was not going to be repaired, the church that I was serving at as associate pastor asked me to step down from the position.
  4. No longer able to afford the payments, the home that I was living in went into foreclosure. 
  5. I started a new job in Charlotte in December of 2011, which was a blessing. But living where I lived at the time, the round trip commute was 140 miles a day when I didn’t have my boys. When my boys were with me, because of child care and school, the commute was 160 miles a day. 

I value stability and peace in my life. I don’t necessarily run from change, but I don’t initiate it. Most of the time, my thinking is “if it’s working, why change it?” So when change of this magnitude comes my way, it brings a level of discomfort that I definitely don’t embrace. In the case of David, Version 1.0 from 2011, I hadn’t prepared myself for dealing with this chaos because I had spent too much of the previous season of my life in a state of fear. Afraid of what you might ask? I was afraid of a lot of things. I knew that my marriage wasn’t in a great place, but looking back, it never was. Not even from the beginning. I think that I had been living in it for so long that I didn’t realize how “not great” it was. Especially now that I’m nearly 8 years into a happy, fulfilling and stable second marriage. My fear was rooted in all of the things that would happen if it didn’t work out, because as 2009 and 2010 went on, things were getting worse, not better. My life was a dichotomy: on one side my mind would say “things will be fine, this is how things have been from the start” and on the other side it would say “if this keeps heading in this direction, it is going to be BAD.” I had spent so much time and energy trying to keep things together and on the right track that I hadn’t fortified myself to be ready when things fell apart. I hadn’t prepared the fields of my life for the seeds of peace. What does that mean? I’m about to explain. 

These 10 years have passed with a speed that I didn’t anticipate. However, I can see that the mindset that I chose to live my life by has resulted in a harvest of peace in my life that I honestly didn’t think was possible. After getting through the hurt and pain of the separation and divorce, I began to see that peace was actually something I could obtain in my life. And I began to realize that it wasn’t conditional based on the people in my life. I realized that God had intended for me to live in peace no matter my circumstances. This peace was not going to come because everyone else in my life had decided to be decent human beings. It wasn’t going to come because of an absence of conflict, chaos or drama. It was going to come if I made a conscious decision to live above the conflict, chaos and drama. The thing is, it all started with changes inside of me, not everyone else. Read this scripture below to see how to plant the seeds of peace in your life.  

James 3: 14-18 says “But if you are bitterly jealous and there is selfish ambition in your heart, don’t cover up the truth with boasting and lying. For jealousy and selfishness are not God’s kind of wisdom. Such things are earthly, unspiritual, and demonic. For wherever there is jealousy and selfish ambition, there you will find disorder and evil of every kind. But the wisdom from above is first of all pure. It is also peace loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and the fruit of good deeds. It shows no favoritism and is always sincere. And those who are peacemakers will plant seeds of peace and reap a harvest of righteousness. ” 

Planting seeds doesn’t result in an immediate harvest. You don’t put seeds in the ground one day and walk outside the next to see a garden full of vegetables. You have to fertilize, water, and tend to those seeds. The same thing applies to the seeds of peace in your life. The fertilizer and water come in the form of forgiveness of those who hurt you (and who may continue to hurt you) and removing jealousy and selfishness from your life. Recognizing what the sources of fear are in your life and attacking them head on. Tending to the seeds of peace in your life means making sure the weeds don’t overtake them. The weeds of lingering bitterness and fear can establish strong root systems if you aren’t vigilant to remove them from your life. This prevents you from harvesting peace in your life.  

This mindset has helped me deal with the pressures and stress of being at the center of a blended family and co-parenting with the mother of my three children. I often tell people that  my position in this life, being the fulcrum between my home and the other one that my boys live in the other half of their lives, as being the CEO of the most dysfunctional organization you can imagine. An organization where loyalties, past hurts, and preferences threaten to derail the train at any given moment. Your marriage, home and children cannot reach their potential while you are sowing discord and giving in to the temptation to “win” all of the time. This does not mean that you have to be a doormat and always give in. What it means is that even when you are in the middle of conflict, you stay above the fight. You intentionally keep it from being personal. You can disagree while acknowledging the value of the other person and their side of the conflict. When you establish this pattern with those around you, you have successfully planted the seeds of peace.  

The biggest challenge to this mindset is that it TAKES TIME to reap the harvest. The potential peace isn’t immediate, so it is easier to stay where you are and not do the work. If you choose to just remain in the stagnant patterns of disorder, you will never be able to experience true peace. Much, if not all of the time, the disorder is rooted in some kind of fear. You will keep marching from battle to battle, growing more weary and more frustrated each time your boots hit the ground. Those patterns of disorder and discord will mean that you will lose the war even though you have won some battles here and there. In my experiences, winning those individual battles might feel good for a moment or two, but it never results in lasting peace. Lasting peace is only obtained by preparing the ground, planting the seeds of peace, and caring for them as you get closer to the harvest. 

If the Shoe Doesn’t Fit, Don’t Wear It

/ Hope and Dave / 1 Comment

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Posted by Hope

I am short. Next to Dave, I am REALLY short. I am loud and many times have been described as “bubbly”. Dave is practical and more mature. I am very spontaneous and really fluid with planning. Dave is calculated with time and better at preparation. I am stuck in the 80’s and Dave knows what Apple is planning at all times. We are different. In many many many ways.

The longer I spend in this family (going on 3 years), the more I find that I am the oddball in this here Laundry estate. I’m okay with that, for the most part. Not only am I okay with it, I like to revel in it from time to time. But there are some days that it can be awfully lonely in this brick ranch. You see, along with the differences between and my bestie, there are pieces of him that magnify my faults and his gifts.

With the ringing in of 2016, I resolved to face the entrance into my 40’s in complete and total health. Mental, emotional, financial, physical and spiritual health. I’m winning big so far in all areas, except physical. That category can cause emotional pain for me which turns into spiritual imbalance. Blah, blah, blah….then it all kinda takes a tumble. See how quickly one area affects the others? So, I’m doing work y’all. Hard work.

Coach D is very physically fit. Which is intimidating if I let it be. He is one of the most disciplined people I know and I greatly respect him for it. He can walk past a box of doughnuts without flinching and says no to ice-cream without a sideways glance. I, however, speak to food and tell it to stop tempting me and then allow the whisper of a cupcake lull my senses to sleep until I somehow find the sugary goodness turn into poison and self-hate. Well, that was until January. After a few months of work, the battle is getting easier, but the results aren’t coming. That’s where this post came about.

This journey of life balance has exposed some jealousy in my heart. I have found myself jealous of Dave on a few occasions and it’s surprised me. It’s dangerous and if left unchecked, could really do some damage to my heart and my precious husband. There have been mornings where he gets up and planted on the floor doing core work and I stare at him through eyes of envy, defeat and jealousy as he stays committed to his health. How could that happen?! But, alas, it’s the absolute truth. I shared this confession with him when I discovered this ugly attitude and through tears sincerely apologized. His response to me was one of tender understanding and encouragement, not of chastisement or judgement. This showed me something very intimate about our marriage. Bigger than physical fitness, the ability to share the most shameful parts of who we are to our covenant partner, fosters intimacy.

The following few days, I worked through this with the Lord. He reminded me of my strengths and the areas that I am spectacularly built. Psalm 139 so perfectly explains how we were knit together intentionally. This has made me laugh because God built me with a weakness of speaking before I think sometimes. He laughs at me too. But I have a tender heart for broken people and an intentional heart for prayer. I have healthy boundaries, have sharp discernment and am a great people read. Not everyone can say that.

So, let’s close with this thought:  no matter how much tissue paper I stuff into the toe of Dave’s shoe, my size 6 will never fit just right. And he couldn’t stuff his giant ski of a foot into my tiny pink sequined bedroom slipper without breaking it. Celebrate the gifts that you’ve been given and work on the areas of your own weakness and learn to let others come alongside to make you better, not become competition. Your “walk” will thank you for it.

 

From Rubble to Restoration

/ Hope and Dave / Leave a comment

Posted by Dave

On October 25th, I had the opportunity to speak at my brother’s church. He recently became the Senior Pastor of a church in Huntington, WV, and had been preaching a sermon series called “Broken” during the month of October. He asked me to share my story as a part of this series. I have to admit that this was a very surreal experience. It had been nearly 5 years since I stood behind a pulpit in a church, and this time around my family looked very different. The other thing that surprised me is how healing the whole experience was. My brother asked me to share with the church for a reason, but one of the unintended circumstances from last Sunday is that it was another moment of healing in the life of our family. It revealed yet again the twofold principle that has evident during this journey:

-God will use external circumstances to bring you to a place of repentance and humility.
-Not only will He use those external circumstances, God will use your own mistakes and faults for His glory if you let him.

During the message, I shared this quote from author Ken Gire: “When suffering shatters the carefully kept vase that is our lives, God stoops to pick up the pieces. But he doesn’t put them back together as a restoration project patterned after our former selves. Instead, he sifts through the rubble and selects some of the shards as raw material for another project – a mosaic that tells the story of redemption.”

Adding to the amazing timing of last weekend is the fact that October 25th would have been the 18th anniversary of my first marriage. Talk about shards of raw material being used for a new project… I’m so thankful for healing, restoration, and memories of a broken past. It is a constant reminder of how my loving Heavenly Father works.

The video from this service is below (note: there were some technical difficulties around the 18:00 mark, but they inserted a slide showing the points that I spoke about).

The greatest of these is LOVE

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

the greatest is LOVEPosted by Hope

It’s a tricky thing to be honest with those around you. We walk a tightrope of comfort and transparency when we consider sharing our authentic selves. When I have shared life with a friend, I sometimes walk away having a review conversation with myself about what I should have said differently or kept to myself. As a woman, I know I’m not alone in that struggle. With that said, I would like to share how very conflicting it is to carry on this blog. I read a lot of personal stories and realize more and more that every single person has so much to give. Why would what I write, or don’t write, make a difference? I had a post written for Mother’s Day that was a celebration of the two years we have clocked in our journey as a new family. I didn’t post it. The reason, I felt it would be hypocritical. I had a complete meltdown on Mother’s Day evening. Timing is everything.

For the last six weeks, I have grown in an area that is private to most and disappointing to me. The ugly parts of me have been exposed in my interactions with my step sons. I have found myself in a season where reality is sinking in and the cost of giving up my single and childless lifestyle is hitting home. My head now understands that there is rarely room in the schedule for just catching my breath, finances are usually tight and boys are a different breed than girls altogether. It’s stretched me out of my comfort zone and quite honestly, I haven’t stretched quietly. I feel like making it to the end of baseball season with my marriage and sanity intact was a complete miracle. I have no idea how families that do travel ball make it. I have found resentment, selfishness, un-forgiveness and doubt in my heart and it is disgusting to discover. What I realized is that an old track that played in my head in a prior life had found it’s way into this one.

On Mother’s Day, as we returned home from a road trip, I couldn’t wait to deliver them to their mom’s house and regain the peace and quiet of MY home. So many things are wrong with that sentence, but it’s the truth of what was on my mind. I had spent the last 30 minutes of the drive home stewing in frustration at the lack of peace and quiet. When we reached the driveway, they exited the car and walked to the front door, without a glace back or a good bye. The moment I had waited for had arrived and instead of feeling relief, I felt loss. As I watched them disappear behind the door, I felt the tears come. The drive to our driveway was short and by the time we made it into our house, a wave of grief washed over me. Dave asked what was wrong and through my sobs, I told him, “I can’t talk right now, just pray for me.” I walked into our bedroom and collapsed beside our bed into a heap of tears. The waves of emotions washed over me and as I heaved the sorrow from my soul, I had no idea or understanding about why such a simple act could produce this kind of reaction. Slowly, as the moment brought calm and the storm began to subside, I felt a quiet knowing that this grief was bigger than the simple driveway incident. The timing of the day and the act of departure was no coincidence. It was THE purge. The emptying out of years of pain and disappointment for what would never be for me. No sonogram photos, no protruding belly, no girly showers with matching cookies and ribbon, no tiny fingers wrapped around my finger or smiling responses to my voice. This was the reality of my motherhood. Caution, trepidation, desire for love met with shallow response, competing affections and tender hearts.

In the following weeks, through personal study, amazing preaching and the secure voice of God, He unwrapped what this lesson held. I got lost in romanticizing the idea of our family. I had begun to rush us to become and for me to be. The timing of the blend has to move at it’s authentic pace or it is forced and will disappoint. God showed me that He would not have called me to this life if He had not already provided every single tool I would need to cover every need. My impatience with the gift He has given me in my new family had brought me to a place of careful consideration. When I was arrested by the willingness of my heart to discard what had been given to me as a blessing, I felt breathless at how I could even consider a trade. As a trade off, this past weekend, I was given a glimpse into not one, but three tiny hearts that was earned through trust. Because I could admit my faults and apologize, I earned the right to listen when they opened up.

I am in awe of single parents. Their ability to wear so many hats and keep it all spinning is miraculous to me. They don’t have the option but to keep going and to find the beauty in their situation. Getting acquainted with parenthood has been very conflicting for me because of my tendency to romanticize the whole experience. As I live the reality of the cost, I have not done a very graceful job of transitioning. My three step-sons and their father have extended so much grace toward me as I pout and react with passive aggression until the mirror of the Word is held up to me and I have to repent to them. What truth lies in 1 Corinthians 13!

If you are new to life with kids, know that it will challenge every selfish place inside and cost you dearly. However, when you receive a piece of their hearts, it makes every sacrifice worth it. Also, I highly recommend finding humor in it. There’s plenty of it flying around so don’t take yourself so seriously. Trust the process and don’t even THINK about attempting this without Jesus Christ at the center of your relationship with your spouse. These days pass quickly and it will be quiet before you know it. Don’t waste the opportunity to shape a life.

How Did I Get Here?

/ Hope and Dave / 1 Comment

Post by Hope

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HOW DID I GET HEEEEEERE?! HOW did I get here? Um, how did I get HERE? I’ve asked it these three ways and probably a hundred times differently in the past two years. The part that you don’t see in this picture is me questioning if I could actually pull it off….living the self-less life I’ve promised them I would. Going back over the vows and rehearsing to myself all of the reasons why I stay. The times when the entire house is pulsing with some form of media and quiet cannot be found in my own home. When my preferences are not considered and when choices that affect my life are made by others.

How about the times Dave has found me crying in a ball in our room and watched without words until the storm passes. The nights we have lost sleep because I am rocked to my core with yet another request for stretching beyond all limits I have set. Or the ball games where she has been within feet and the awkwardness of watching the kids decide who they will sit with and show affection toward. It’s all the part that we don’t air.

What I learned, very quickly, when my former life ended, is that there IS NO “grass is greener” on the other side. It doesn’t exist. Everybody has dead grass in their proverbial yard. The difference is those who dig up the dirt, find the poison and make room for life again. We weren’t surprised by the fact that there is turbulence in our home. We weren’t shocked to find that taking one step forward, usually comes with two steps backwards. What has surprised me the most, is me. When the heat is turned up and too many things are happening at once, I almost always withdraw and resort to survival mode. In survival mode, I wall off my heart and identify the enemies and how to avoid them until the threat has passed. The problem with that in this life, is that those “enemies” are people. The people I have pledged to love unconditionally.

I grew up as a transient, gypsy, Army BRAT. I have an internal clock that is set for 2 years. This was the cycle of an assignment for most of my dad’s career. This clock governs my comfort zone as an adult. Like a predictable cuckoo clock, it goes off every two years to let me know it’s time to move on and discover the next challenge. In my first marriage, I uncovered this weakness and learned that roots are a good thing. In this marriage, I am not only challenged to re-grow roots, but to stay when the hurricane blows at a Cat 4. This is year #2. The question about who I am and what I’m made of is staring me in the face.

For the faint of heart, this life is not for you. Find a way to fix your broken relationship because if you leave or make him leave, the next marriage will break you the rest of the way. For the selfish, get over yourself. If you choose to live the only trip around the sun you have for you alone, your story will be short, no matter how far you travel. For the lost, if you can’t find your compass and true north outside of a relationship, you’re going to be led astray by anyone that wanders onto your path. This will ruin true love for you. Now for you brave souls who are living in the reality of balancing it all….in your head AND your heart, do the work. There’s no shortcuts. Do the work lads and lasses. The quality of the love, the time and the memories will pay you back in multiples.

Love hard.

The End

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Rocky

Posted By Dave

“How did I end up here?” was the question that the voice in my head kept asking. I came home from work to see only my clothes and open space where some of the furniture used to be. Sadness, anger, frustration, it all washed over me. I was like a fighter who had taken a right hook that I didn’t have a chance to brace for. As I crumbled to the canvas, I was pissed and hurt. How does 13 years of marriage, three children and a home together, a life built together, end up here? Sometimes there just isn’t an explanation. Sometimes there just aren’t any answers. Sometimes bad stuff happens to people who tried to do everything right. It doesn’t make any sense.

After the separation began, my boys would go spend the agreed-upon days with their mom. Instantly, a house that was full of the sounds and activity of a young family was as quiet as a funeral home. Appropriately, I felt like I was dying inside. Toys left where they were played with last. Their clothes in the laundry, Capri-Suns in the refrigerator. The TV left on the last channel they watched, the baseball laying in the front yard. I couldn’t wait to talk to them, but despised having to tell them “Good Night” over the phone. I missed them so bad, I felt like someone was using a vacuum to suck the life out of me. I would lay there in bed and be enveloped in the silence. It made me sick to my stomach. It was in those times that I began to experience the love of my heavenly Father like I never had before. I have been a Christian since 1997, yet I discovered during those lonely nights that my faith had never been tested like this. I began to beg God to make His presence known, I was having a real crisis of faith, wondering if all of the stuff I had said about Jesus through the years was really true or if I was just repeating what everyone else was saying.

I know now that it is all true. I can’t explain it in words so that anyone else would understand. I just know because I’ve sensed the presense of my Savior in times when I just wanted to curl up in a ball in the floor. I know because I was broken down and stripped of everything that I held dear, and yet still knew that there was a reason for it. I know because He waited for me to ask Him for forgiveness before He began to reveal His new plan for me. I don’t ask “why?” anymore. That’s because I know the answer. It wasn’t so I could start over. It wasn’t so I could get answers to all of my questions. I’ve learned over time that the specifics don’t matter. Who did what, who said what, who was wrong and who was right, none of it matters. I spent plenty of time being self-righteous about my circumstances, and it still left me empty. The reason I don’t ask why anymore is because every day I live this life completely differently than I did prior to the day my first marriage ended. It is encompassed in this quote from author Ken Gire:

“When suffering shatters the carefully kept vase that is our lives, God stoops to pick up the pieces. But he doesn’t put them back together as a restoration project patterned after our former selves. Instead, he sifts through the rubble and selects some of the shards as raw material for another project – a mosaic that tells the story of redemption.”

The End was The Beginning for me. I made the choice to get up off of the canvas, spit the blood out of my mouth and get back in the fight. The fight for me was to figure out what I did to cause what happened and fix it. I went to counseling for months to open up those places that were in the shadows and bring them into the light. The fight for me was to lead my sons through a traumatic situation. I could not leave them behind as I jumped back in the ring, I had no choice but to be a healthy Dad for them. I fight for them every day, even when they aren’t with me. Someday they are going to have to fight too. It is my job to be their Mickey, to prepare them for the day they are going to step into the ring. Now the fight for me involves my young marriage to a woman who is my Adrian. I refuse to let my past or my enemy win, and that means fighting for what is good and right. Even though my greatest fears were realized, they were also defeated the moment that stopped trying to control what wasn’t mine begin with. Freedom and power are my assets thanks to Who I serve, not who I am.

It all began the day that it ended.

Step By Step

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footprints-in-the-snow

Posted By Hope

It begins with one step. One foot in front of the other. This is what it felt like to start over.

After ten years of marriage, I found myself unpacking in a tiny one bedroom apartment in Charlotte. Not in the nice part of town, but not exactly in the bad part. I used up every bit of fight I had left as I unloaded the trailer with the last of my furniture. The drive out of my old neighborhood was a mixture of loss and hope. As I opened the door of my new place to begin moving all that was left to begin again, I began to run out of strength. It was the last half load that was the hardest. I remember carrying in a box that was heavy and as I carried it through my living room and out onto the patio storage, I began to cry and felt like I couldn’t make one more trip out. As the tears began to fall, I stopped in the doorway and couldn’t fight them anymore. I felt a small whisper tell me to keep going. He said, “Just take one step at a time. Just one step Hope. One step gives way to another and you make your way to that last box.” I made my way through the living room and out to the trailer and picked up more and carried on slowly and with tears. With that last box, I depleted the reserve tank and collapsed into a spent, crying mess. As I sat there recovering on my couch, I realized that I had kept going for another hour, with the strength from one step at a time.

That wasn’t the last time He gave me rest in that concept. There were moments of such loneliness and rejection when I felt so completely lost in my divorce that I questioned if He even remembered me. I cried so often and for so long that it felt like I would always be sad. That the idea of life turning over a new leaf or that cloud having a silver lining was not for me because I had sinned by going through a divorce. For me, the hope of full joy did not apply any longer. That season ended. Thankfully that was not the case. I just needed time. What He taught me in that place was that we prepare for what is next, in the now. He carefully showed me the concept of one step at a time. I didn’t have the strength for more than that during my broken season, so I listened. As I began to heal, I saw that the concept applies to every season. Even when it’s good.

As I face the challenge of doing life as an awkward semi-quasi-partial parent, I apply this principle often. When I get selfish, when I get rejected, when I am overwhelmed and when I just plain don’t want to do this anymore. In my planning, in my waiting, in my hope and in my fear, I recognize that all I have light for is the step I am currently taking. Living like this means that I have no idea where the journey will take me, but I know from experience that I’m not alone and the destination isn’t the part that matters.

The “D” Word

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

Posted by Dave

D Block

As I sit here typing this, they’ve just wheeled my wife Hope back for her hysterectomy. The healing from years of struggling with infertility begins for her. Her post from several weeks ago, The M Word, chronicled this journey. She has been hesitant to share her story at times, and understandably so. If there is anything I’ve learned since we’ve been together, women who struggle with infertility deal with a deep sense of hurt and loss. Sometimes it is painful to uncover that, like when you go to the women’s clinic and you’re surrounded by baby and parenting magazines. When Hope and I began discussing marriage several years ago, I told her that I wanted to be there for her to walk through the pain that she still experienced. I had no clue what that meant then, but I now realize that the past six weeks have been that time.

If anyone can have a favorite letter of the alphabet, “D” is my favorite. Lot’s of important things in my life have happened that start with D. David is my first name, and David is my favorite person from the Bible. D is the first letter of divorce, and this seemingly negative word has shaped and changed my life. D is the first letter of my job description and the most honorable title I’ve ever held: DAD. God has blessed me with the opportunity to raise three sons, something that changed the course of my life. I don’t take the responsibility lightly, understanding that God has chosen me to be the one to launch them into manhood.

When Hope and I were dating, we waited three months before we introduced her to my boys. We didn’t take this lightly. Deep down, I wanted to get to know her character to see if I wanted her around my sons. I never take off the “Dad Hat”, so I knew that the woman I chose to have in my life would be responsible for shaping the lives of my sons. I’ll never forget the day that she met my boys. That was the day I knew I wanted her to be my wife. She was a natural with each of them, and over the next several months their response to her confirmed that she was perfectly capable of raising children. Her body didn’t work properly to give her children of her own, yet her motherly instincts are evident in all that she does.

So, not only was I chosen to be a Dad, God also chose me to be Hope’s husband. Meaning that her struggles become my struggles. Meaning that her pain becomes my pain. How do you find the place inside yourself to both be a Dad, and support the one you love who wasn’t able to have children? How do you identify with someone who desperately wanted children but couldn’t have them, and know that you were chosen to be a Dad? These questions have swirled around in my head many times. For me, I’ve discovered the answer to these questions. Another D word: DEVOTION. It is impossible for me to identify with the struggle of infertility. It is impossible for me to put myself in the shoes of someone who desperately wanted children but couldn’t have them. It IS possible for me to be devoted to her.

Being devoted means being committed, it doesn’t mean I have to come up with all of the answers. It isn’t my job to be the “solutionist”, it is my job to be her companion. Sometimes all it takes is just being there.