abi’s Neighborhood

So it's been 5+ months since I last blogged. But I routinely remind Abi that it's been almost a week since she last posted, and that she should therefore be ashamed of herself and get her pregnant, hormonal but to work. But I work in the ministry now, so a little hypocrisy is to be expected, right?

Those of you who know me know the bland details of my life right now, so I'm not going to go over them. Instead, I'm going to completely ignore the last 5 months as though I've already blogged extensively on every inane detail, and you're already up to speed. Instead, I'm going to tell you a story... and finally take a crack at a fortunately/unfortunately.

It was Easter. Fortunately, I like Easter.
Unfortunately, I live alone, so I celebrate Easter alone.
Fortunately, I have friends that also live alone, so they can keep me company.
Unfortunately, they have their own lives.
Fortunately, their lives are uninteresting :-)
Unfortunately, that means we all got bored.
Fortunately, we decided to play putt-putt.
Unfortunately, we decided to play putt-putt.
Fortunately, all five of us were enjoying it (Chelle, Ian, Travis, Sean, and myself).
Unfortunately, we didn't get to keep enjoying it.
Fortunately, Travis was full of energy.
Unfortunately, Travis was not full of discernment.
Fortunately, since it was Easter, we found some plastic eggs.
Unfortunately, plastic eggs don't mix well with putt-putt and discernment-free teens.
Fortunately, we were outside.
Unfortunately, Travis decided to hit the egg. With his club.
Fortunately, he managed to the the egg squarely.
Unfortunately, he managed to hit Ian squarely, too.
Fortunately, Ian didn't lose any teeth. Or an eye. Or break his face.
Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to keep us out of the hospital.
Fortunately, Ian just had a cut on his face.
Unfortunately, the cut went all the way through into his mouth.
Fortunately, he just needed a couple stitches.
Unfortunately, "a couple" is 12.
Fortunately, the ER is equipped for that.
Unfortunately, it still took 4 hours. urg.
Fortunately, Ian has insurance.
Unfortunately, we still haven't seen the bill.
Fortunately, this gave me an excuse to give Travis and Ian gangster. names.
Unfortunately, those names are "Scarface Timmy" and "Tony the Club."

See? I posted. And yes, Ian has since healed fairly well (it's been a few weeks). And Travis feels sufficiently horrible, but not overly so. Just the right amount of horrible.
I'm working with kids now. I should have lots more exciting stories in the near future. Who knows, maybe I'll even blog some of them.

So this year I was gonna do it. I was really going to join NaBloPoMo! Then on the 31st of October, I decided it would be more fun to separate my shoulder, which makes it tough to type--one-handed hunt and peck is no fun. Maybe next year, NaBloPoMo. This year I'm still a member, but I'm on disability.

A: When you change your name every time you update your blog, people don't know to come read it.

B: My blog is boring enough that no one reads it anyway.

That's just plain bad! It has officially been 7 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since I last posted. And that's shameful. Still, I don't think it's entirely my fault--my bloggles have been broken and I haven't found a repair shop. Creative writing has never been my thing. You want a treatise on civil disobedience in Kantian political philosophy? I'm your guy. You want a story about a puppy and a kitty and a barn? Forget it, go ask my girlfriend. On top of that, the blogging gene seems to have simply skipped me. Abi got it, I didn't. But then, Luke didn't get it either, and Tucker has shown zero interest. And neither of the parents blog. Which leaves one obvious question: Abi, who is yo' daddy?

What do I have to blog about? Do you really want me to fill you in on all the mundane details of my (hopefully) impending graduation and exodus from the Illustrious University of Tennessee? I doubt. Heavily. Or I could tell you what's been happening at work--but I work in a library. Not too much stimulating material here, or at least, no stories that I'm comfortable posting for all to see (yeah, that guy was uber-creepy). Hey wanna hear what I learned in class this week? No, you don't. I don't even wanna hear about what I learned in class this week.

So, what is that about which one can blog while maintaining the interest of one's audience? Who knows. I'm beginning to think I should blog like Robot Chicken, you know, see if I can hold people's attention by switching topics completely at random every few minutes. Maybe I could try a fortunately/unfortunately: that's it! For the next blog I post (at this rate, sometime after Labor Day), you--yes, YOU reader!--can post comments suggesting topics for a fortunately/unfortunately composed by yours truly. It'll be like Whose Line, only less....good. Yeah.

So there it is! A full page of posting without actually saying anything, only avoiding the whole issue of creativity by placing the responsibility of my next post squarely on your shoulders, dear reader! I hope you have enjoyed; I know my heart has been warmed by this whole experience.

I wish they knew:

That I love them no matter what-there is nothing they can do to make me love them, there is nothing they can do to make me stop loving them.

That if someone thinks less of them because of their appearance, it is a reflection of the character of that person-not my child.  We are loved by God not because of who we are but because of who He is.  Because of this and who we are in God, we are worthy.  And while it hurts to be judged by others, it doesn't mean we are not worthy.

That while we long for and desire relationships with others, this is not what completes us.  There is not another human being on earth who can make us whole.  Again, we are whole because of God.  It is He who created us and our relationship with Him completes us.

That there are consequences to our actions--good and bad--that live with us for the rest of our lives.  That we need to think long term and not just in the moment. And while something may feel good and right right now, the long term effects can be devastating.

That while God forgives us our sins, we still have to live with the consequences of them.

That they can make decisions based upon what is right and not on how they are feeling.  And even when they are hurting deep inside because someone they love has wounded them and the pain is almost too much to bear, they still need to act and not react.  To pray about what their response should be.  To be sure that five years from now they won't regret what choices they made.

That love is not just a feeling.  Feelings come and go and if you think love is just a feeling, you will be in and out of love your whole life.  Love is a commitment, a choice.  We choose to love someone and act accordingly, regardless of our feelings.  When we commit to someone,  we honor the commitment, again, regardless of the feelings.

That I am deeply sorry for the times I acted out in selfish interest and they were the recipients of the pain that resulted from my selfishness.  This is one of the huge regrets I live with and don't wish for them to live with regrets resulting from them hurting their children or others because they chose to be selfish.

That I did the best I could and hope they will learn from my mistakes so their best will be even better.

That, as one author put it, "Sleep is a weapon."

And on that note, I will turn in.

Well, here's the final installment.  Sorry that it's long, but I don't see a good place to cut it off.  Here goes.

Final Installment

I was willing to talk to Jacki, read the books she gave me, and do the Bible Study.  After a few meetings, she recommended that I do the group study.  By this time I was starting to realize that my abortion had affected many areas of my life--things I had no idea about, and that, I did, indeed, need help myself.  I was dumbfounded and very willing to go through the group.  I was beginning to realize that I needed healing from my abortion and that my depression, thoughts of suicide, emotional numbness, lack of self worth, and impatience with my family were all stemming from this.

So I started meeting with this group of reserved, quiet, angry, hurt women.  And God worked a miracle in our lives.  Because in this group of post abortive women I found something I had been missing for 31 years.  I got me back and in some way, I got my baby back.  While I had thought about the baby in the past, I realized I never truly grieved the loss of him, and what all that means--a lifetime of loss.  No holding a sleeping infant on your chest, no first steps, no first words, no comforting him when he fell and scrapped his knee, no t-ball games, no proms, no graduations, no seeing him with a huge smile on his face as he watches his bride come down the aisle, no joy of experiencing his first child.

Nor did I grieve the loss of what this had done to me. God created women to be nurturers and abortion goes against everything we were created for.

Up until now I had not let myself experience the anger I had towards so many--TE for not truly loving me in the manner I was worthy of, for not loving me enough to keep our relationship pure, for not standing with me when we discovered we were going to have a child; my parents for not parenting me and loving me unconditionally and even pushing the abortion; my aunt for encouraging me into adult actions when I was still a child; politicians for making abortion legal, God for allowing things to happen; but especially my anger towards myself.  I came to realize that I was angry with myself for the choices I made--for having an abortion, for the lies I told and believed, and for having an affair--so much anger that had been repressed for so many years.

This group at Hope Clinic and Jacki helped me to work through all of this and to bring me to a place of forgiviness--where I was able to forgive all and let go of the anger. 

I do know none of this would have happened without the presence of God.  He was so present with us, loving us, never letting us go as we worked through the process.  I healed more in those 12 weeks than I had after all the other counseling.

During this time I said a prayer telling God that I now gave control of my life over to Him.  I asked Him to help me to recognize that it was ok to be angry with myself, but I needed to quit sinning in my anger.  I needed to stop judging and punishing myself.  I needed to quit playing God and trying to do His job.  The job is too big and I'm too little.  I told Him I let go, it was all His.  I prayed for His help and asked for Him to show me His mercy and grace.  And He did...more than I could have ever asked for or hoped for.

So, that's part of my journey.  I share this part of my life with you in hopes that if you or anyone you know has had an abortion, you, too can find the healing I've experienced.  I hope you find the HOPE Clinic in your area.  A clinic that has a prevention team that shares invaluable messages with young people that I did not hear, that gives love, acceptance and guidance to women during an unplanned pregnancy, and help to hurting post abortive women.  I am very thankful for them.  And yes, while they do save the lives of many babies, they also save the lives of many hurting women.

God bless.  Thanks for reading.  Savannah Rose

So I got back from vacation Monday night and it was back to reality.  And I don't like it, not one little bit!  I wasn't ready for it, but it was waiting for me.  Reality for yesterday was saying goodbye to my son and granddaughter who were home for the first time in about 4 years and hello to my 91 year old father-in-law who has alzhiemers and lives with us. Reality for yesterday was spending the day at the VA Clinic with my father-in-law assisting him through the maze of government care.  Don't get me wrong,  I appreciate the VA and all they do to help our veterans but it just seems odd to me that my son, who lives 650 miles away would get home before I did when we left at the same time and I was only 45 miles away!  Reality is back to work today.  But not before I do the next installment so here goes...

Part 5

LJ started getting our son for visitations.  I was trying to limit our personal contact.  I had decided that, while my actions up to this point definitely did not have integrity, I was going to act with integrity henceforth.  During this time, LJ took a break from his fiancee to have some time alone and finally do some of his own healing from the death of his wife.  Over time we started talking again and began to see each other.  We decided to get married and we just celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary.

I felt like I should have been happy after we got married.  And I was, to a certain extent.  But there was still something missing in my life.  Although I didn't understand it at the time, I was being haunted by my choice to abort my baby.  I knew in my head that God had forgiven me, but I didn't feel it in my heart.  And, I still had the same unrealistic expectations that now LJ would fulfill all my emotional needs.  And I still had trust issues with God.  A friend invited me to do a Bible study called, Lord, Heal My Hurts.  During this study I had a major break through in my relationship with God.  I can remember holding my Bible and crying, "It was here--it was here all the time.  Everything I've been looking for, it's been here all along.  Why God?  Why did I have to go through all this, make my kids go through all this, before I realized that everything I've been searching for has been here all along."  This was the beginning of my process of learning to trust God.  This is still something I work on, but I get closer every day.

I finally came to understand that my relationship with God is what fulfills me.  I quit having too many unrealistic expectaions of LJ, but something was still not right.  We attended a great church, had a house full of kids, and life was pretty good.  But I would still experience times of depression.  I doubted at this point I really even knew how to love or to be loved.  I still even had thoughts of suicide, went as far as how to do it; but never attempted it.

Then we moved to Tennesse and I was introduced to Hope Clinic by a friend who knew I wanted to volunteer at a crisis pregnancy center.  During the volunteer training process, we had to fill out a questionnaire.  One of the questions was whether or not I had had an abortion and whether or not I had any couseling related to it.  I answered that I had an abortion, but no counseling for it.  I was contacted by Jacki, Hope Clinic's Post Abortion Counselor and she asked me if I minded coming in to talk to her.  I told her that would be fine.  Now, I was a Christian, knew I was forgiven, so I felt that was the end of the discussion.  After all, I was there to help women, not get help I didn't need.  I realized later how wrong I was!

Well, as much as I hate to, reality calls and it's off to work I go! Heigh Ho Heigh Ho.  Hey, better with a song in your heart than with, oh I don't know--you fill in the rest!

Ah sleep.  Some say it is overrated.  Some say it is a weapon.  But I, I long for the seduction of a dark room, a soft pillow to rest my weary head and to sleep.  But this is now and that was then....

Part 4

I've believed in God since I was a child, but although I didn't realize it at the time, I didn't trust in Him.  I thought believing was enough.  I was wrong.

I took a job after college.  Here, I met my first husband.  After several months of dating, we decided to get married.  On the outside it all looked perfect.  We had two children, were members of the country club, went to church, and had many friends.  But it wasn't.  I still had feelings of rejection.  I was depressed and even entertained thoughts of suicide.

My husband, while a nice guy, did not let me close to him emotionally.  I turned to my friends to try to fulfill this need on my part to be included. I volunteered at different organizations, just trying to stay busy to fill the void.  Now, I have to admit that a lot of this was the result of my unrealistic expectations on my part for my husband to be my all in all--for him to complete me.  No man can do that.  But I did not know this, wasn't even aware that I was feeling rejected or depressed, or that I was running away from my past pain.  Off and on I went into counseling and dealt with many issues, but my abortion was never addressed.  I would get to a certain point in my counseling and then shut down emotionally.

And then another man started paying attention to me.  I felt alive again!  It was like coming out of the desert and getting a cool drink of water!  And I knew that I was in love.  I have to explain to you that I thought love was a feeling.  This is taught to us at a young age, starting with Cinderella.  I didn't realize at the time that love is not just the feeling, but it is also a choice, it is a commitment.  It takes work and dedication.

I started meeting this man, and drawing away from my husband.  This man was going through his own difficulties--his beloved wife, and a close friend of mine, was dying from breast cancer.  He was a Christian, but we turned to each other instead of God to help us through our pain.  In the meantime, my husband chose to move out.  Soon afterwards I discovered I was pregnant by the other man.  I was 35--old enough to know better!  I was still married, but separated.  And his wife had just died.  We were living in a small town, where my friends knew my husband had had a vasectomy.  But I knew this time abortion was not an option.  LJ, the father of the baby, assured me that he would be part of the baby's life, but after a few months, he decided that I needed to work things out with my husband, and stepped out of the picture.  He believed that divorce was wrong, and that it would be better for all if my husband and I got back together.  I did tell my husband I was pregnant.  After his initial anger and much discussion and some failed attempts, we eventually divorced.

In the meantime, I shared with some friends that I was pregnant.  Some stood by me.  Others shunned me.  I really had no other place to turn for help or counsel.  I am sure I was quite the topic of many conversations at our country club!  LJ told me that he would support me financially, and would be involved in the child's life.  But he had gone on with his own life and was engaged.  So, I went through the pregnancy alone.  My son, JT, was born in 1992.  At that time I shared with my other two children that what I had done was wrong, but that when we confess our sins, God will forgive us of them and that what Satan means for evil God can use for good.  My son, MK, who was 10, immediately pointed to JT and said, "And he's the good."

Stay tuned, there's more to come.

Part 3

I started dating TE during my sophmore year.  He didn't do drugs or smoke, but he did drink and I continued to do so.  My mother was relieved that I was dating him because she thought he was a 'good influence'.  My aunt, whom I was very close to, told me that she knew Tommy and I would be sexually active, which we were, so she got me on birth control pills.  Of course, this sent the message to me that she, an authority figure in my life that I was close to, was ok with me having sex at age 15.

My relationship with TE was not a healthy one.  He accused me of cheating on him, of being fat, anything to make me feel insecure about myself.  But I stayed with him because I was desperate for this relationship.  He would break up with me and I would beg him to take me back. Rather than stand up for myself, and say "I am worth so much more than this," I would take it.  I just knew that one day we were going to get married.  After all, I had slept with him, so we were supposed to marry. (This was early 70's-no, not 1870's, 1970's! And "good" girls still didn't, or at least they didn't tell anyone they did.)  But instead, when I was 17, I got pregnant.

When I told TE I thought I was pregnant, he immediately told me that he couldn't marry me.  I knew that he would not support me in any way and that if I had the baby, I would lose him.  I was scared of what people would think about me.  I told my parents I thought I was pregnant and I lied and told them that TE didn't know and I wanted to leave it that way.  I was still protecting him.  My parents simply asked me what I wanted to do. I burst into tears and said I wanted to have an abortion.  They said ok.  There was no discussion about other options and I knew that I had given them the answer they wanted to hear.  My dad made the arrangements and my mom took me to the clinic where I had my abortion.

When I got home, I went to bed.  I remember feeling relieved that I had my body back to myself.  TE called the next day and asked how I was, but after that we never discussed by abortion.  I also never discussed it again with my parents.  At the time, I thought my parents were the "best" because I didn't get in any trouble.

So, life went on as normal, or so I thought; for I did not realize at that time, or for the next 31 years, that when I chose to have an abortion there would be consequences--consequences that would color many of my decisions for the greater part of my life.

TE and I stayed together until I was 23.  But our relationship never improved.  While I was working full time and attending college at night, I made some very good friends.  Particularly one woman and her husband.  They were very supportive of me.  I finally saw a couple who loved each other, were committed to each other, and who spent time together.  I wanted this type of relationship.  I finally came to the realization that I would not have this with TE and broke up with him.

I guess a good place to stop for now.  As placesunknown.vox so poetically put it, "points in the past ignite the current state"  or something to that affect--see previous comments.

This is taking me alot longer to do then I thought it would.  But somehow current life gets in the way!  I appreciate everyones comments--thank you so much.

Here goes. 

Part 2

Children need boundaries, they make them feel secure.  Part of these boundaries is healthy discipline.  Of course kids will tell you that they don't want to be disciplined.  But deep down it makes them feel loved.  This did not happen much in my house.  Once, at age 14, I came home drunk.  My mom accused me of being drunk, but, being drunk, I did what any 14 year old would do and denied it.  That was the end of our converstaion.  All my dad did was help me get over my hangover.  But I was never give any consequences for my behavior.

I drank to handle my pain.  Looking back, I see I was desperate for attention.  I started smoking cigarettes at 14 and soon graduated to drugs.  In 9th grade I was saving my lunch money to buy drugs.  My father was a physician and I stole pain killers from him.  I kept this part of my life secret.  Only a handful of friends knew what I was doing...and,unfortunately, these were the people who made me feel accepted.

To the outside world, all was rosy.  I was an honor student.  My father was a doctor, so we were rich, right?  It didn't matter that the world of alcoholism is one of chaos.  I continued to do drugs.  Years later my mother told me she never liked the kids I was hanging out with, but at that time, she never spoke to me about it.  She believed I would "grow out of it".  I know now this style of child rearing does not work.  It leaves the child feeling not worth the parents' time or trouble.

While my father was not living with us anymore, he did have a presence in our lives.  He lived with various other women, but would come over, get drunk, and we'd drive him back to the current girlfriend's house.  He still came over and we spent Thanksgiving together as a family.  Not only did his behavior model for me how men are to treat women, Mom's tolerance taught me that this treatment towards women was acceptable.

Enough for now, more to follow.  Thanks for reading.