It’s written, for the most part, by the wife of the pastor that began my church. She has so much wisdom, is down to earth, and fun to read. Here are some quotes from a recent post on forgiving:
“The only way for the ‘forgive-and forget mentality’ to be practiced is through radical denial, deception, or pretense.”It is not possible for us to forget, only to choose to “not remember” over and over again.
You have an enemy who works with the offenses of others to smother us with untruth. Satan cannot stand our reflection of God’s beauty. He will use the hurts of others to try to convince us that we are ugly and awful and less-than. We need to separate those enemy-fed lies from what actually happened.
Forgiveness does not require years and years of professional counseling. It is not a process as much as it is a heroic act of our wills. The process part is the sluggish following of our feelings to catch up with what we choose to do with our wills.
The summer has been different. Good different. Also bad different.
Mostly because I transitioned from nannying four hours a day every day; to ten hrs a day, two weeks on, two weeks off. My work days are now opposite of Cody’s, so we essentially don’t see during the week. Which feels completely stupid.
On the other hand, the two weeks off have given me all sorts of time to visit people and be crafty. The craftiness isn’t going quite as I had planned. But the visiting has gone superb. I spent two nights with my dad and baby sisters. Then two nights in my hometown visiting five or so friends and some family too. Then a whopping nine day trip out to Montana to go on vacation with my mom, step-dad, and family, where I contracted the most impressive tan ever. I’ve also had a visit from my grandma, a visit from my mom and sister planned, a hopeful camping trip with my dad and another hometown trip in the works.
It’s been crazy. Which is good. It distracts me from my sad little self…usually. I found myself fighting tears for two days straight while on vacation with my family. Frustrating to say the least…sun, boating, tubing, and sisters should do the trick right? It reminds me that my depression is real. It’s not drama. It’s not overreacting. It’s life and me and my hard thing right now.
I start to feel like there is something wrong with me. I must be brain damaged. Or sick and delusional. Or crazy out of this world selfish. I beg Cody through tears to tell me what’s wrong with me. His answer is always: ‘Nothing. It’s ok for you to feel sad. It’s normal. Stop telling yourself there’s something wrong with you, because there’s not. Everything’s ok. You’re ok and God is good.’ I really should tattoo that on my arm so that the poor guy doesn’t have to repeat it so often. And I hope I figure it out someday for real. I hope it sinks in so that I don’t panic when I can’t reverse my sadness. But for now Cody will just have to repeat it.
my apologies for being a lousy blogger. but i have a life (code for nothing smart enough in my brain to write about). so get over it. however I will try to appease your gallimaufry withdrawals with this little photo update:
Cody was kind enough to drive me all the way to Montana to see my family and attend a dear friend’s wedding
Cody turned 21…finally. i no longer have to buy his beer. You’d think being his sole provider of beer would be a wonderful advantage as his wife. Unfortunately I’m too nice for that. Which makes it simply a pain.
This brave 6 year old had an successful 8 hr heart surgery and obviously came through strong and proud…and no longer purple.
We brought this annoyance home. I promptly fell in love right before the realization that Cody is simply too allergic for a happy ending.
We are officially big city people. We moved across the river, North Portlandia is our home. And to be honest I feel more at home here. We are three blocks from a street crammed with freaky-good restaurants, bike shops, music stores, a children’s book store, coffee, tea, crafty things, a market. We are surrounded by hipsters, hippies, college folk, crazy bikers, make your own beer dudes, weirdos with a little b.o., kiddos wearing clothes I want, the use your own grocery bag type humans, bearded beanie-wearing homegrown organic types, the happy, sad, messed up, and torn, biking their way through rain and life with no purpose folks.
And if multiple denied apartment applications give any hint of where God wants us…this must be it. Now, to bring a bit of Jesus to this place.
fact: Cody is a Christmas hater (due to no fault of his own).
fact: Kaisha is a Chrstmas Eve baby and lover of all things red, sparkly, and full of sappy Christmas nostalgia.
Kaisha’s conclusion: carefully plan and execute her Christmas cheer in such a way as to break through the gloom of a Cody December.
plan: homemade ornaments. cinnamon rolls. chicken, brussels sprouts, and wine. gifts he wants…not gifts i think are snazzy therefore he also should think they are snazzy. purpose to be unashamed of your own love for Christmas.
execute: don’t get pushy with the Christmas music and movies. do nice stuff for other people together. don’t be offended when he hates on ‘Santa Baby’ for 5 minutes…if it didn’t have magical Christmas spells on it you’d hate it too. be excited no matter what.
result: Kaisha makes the best cinnamon rolls in the world!!!!!! (specifically a small unnamed town renown for it’s cinnamon roll making mothers.)