housekeeping

photo credits

it's not what you think. well, maybe a little.

i am new to this blogging thing and such an anal perfectionist that getting my blogspot to look "just so" is taking quite some time. so please pardon my cyber mess...

the slideshows aren't my projects. the format is going to change at least five more times before i get it to look the way i think it should. suggestions, criticism, feedback and requests to link to my blog are welcome and appreciated. (no. really! i want to know.) there is my housekeeping disclaimer for my blogspot.

if only it was that easy to explain my real-life mess. have i mentioned we're moving? we fell victim to the real estate madness in the early 2000s and it caught up to us. we lost the house, but it has not been home for some time. we changed in this house, literally and figuratively. i commented to a friend recently "this place isn't what it was when we moved here, and neither are we." good and bad. so i will be doing some "housekeeping": sifting through the memories and artfully arranging the laughter and smiles of the past seven years in the photo album of my mind, leaving behind the heartbreak and bitterness.

Lord, I have never been good at keeping a journal. I know you know this. But I'm going to give it a try this year. Who knows, I may even blog after all is said and done. I've been doing a lot of thinking, and as you have presented this theme to me quite frequently over the last few weeks, I'm certain you're trying to tell me something. J and I were watching Oprah (don't judge me) interview Steven Tyler from Aerosmith. I was amazed by him. He GETS IT. He spoke words today that resonated deep in my soul.

Recently, mdh shared with me that ba has been writing angry, hurtful things to him coming from years of misunderstandings, unmet expectations and a broken heart. *sigh* Initially, I wanted to lash out with my own angry words at our daughter's inability to see beyond herself. But I can see -- worse, feel -- my husband's pain despite his false bravado. And then I hear You speaking to me through Steven Tyler. One word. FORGIVE. I have to forgive ba. I'll say it again: God, I have to forgive ba.

The past couple of years have been very, very trying and filled with loss in unexpected ways. In early 2010 I almost lost my beloved sister, E . I lost my precious niece before I ever got to know her. I lost respect for mdh. I lost my dream of a happy, healthy marriage. Spring came and I lost my older daughter. Then I lost a brother when E and D split up. In October, I lost my best friend/sister, E, again when, unable to cope with January's loss, she disappeared for the holidays. At the end of the year, I lost my sense of security and mdh lost his job. I held out hope that twenty-eleven would bring reconciliation and happier times...thinking it couldn't get worse, I lost the easy, loving relationship with my in-laws. I lost my faith in strong friendships. I lost my purpose, my sense of me. And then the rug was yanked from beneath my feet and life as I knew it was lost. I lost my younger daughter and was ready to walk away from my husband and our marriage. I didn't recognize my life and longed for consistency and boring. But something good came from the chaos. I learned something about me: I believe God.

Through the losses I always had faith in You. I didn't always respond in a way that showed it, but at the end of it all...I trusted You. I believed that You were, are, will always be with me. I am so certain of Your faithfulness. In hindsight you met every one of my needs even when I thought I needed more.

Long story summarized:
1. God uses my husband's suffering to refine me too and it hurts as much as --  if not more -- than if I was the one afflicted; and
2. Forgive. Truly forgive. As God forgives us, we must forgive.

I'm so thankful that You are my loving, living God.

the dream lives on. but it looks different now. seven years ago my dream home was about the dwelling and the things in it; today, not keeping the house, literally, is the first step toward rebuilding our dream home: that place where I share life -- the good, the bad, the ugly -- with the ones that make it home.

hard lesson learned.