One thing I’ve struggled with in so many of my relationships is the worry of being displaced.  My fear of being removed from whatever place I have in these dear ones’ hearts and lives has been a very real and a rather large one.   I believe the origin of this feeling comes from two things.  First, when I was almost 3 years old, my baby brother was burned, and our house was completely destroyed.  My mother was in the hospital with my brother for nearly all the 4 months he was in, and I hardly saw her.  I understand now that when a child is sick, that child becomes the priority–until they’re out of danger.  But as I was so small myself, all I knew was that I wasn’t as important.  My mother also never “came back”–that is to say, she fell into a downward spiral in trying to cope with my brother’s injuries and the loss of our home and all the emotional impact of that, and became an alcoholic.  So when things returned to something of a semblance of normal, my mother’s emotional presence was often gone because of the effects of the alcohol she was consuming, and it was devastating to me.  The vacuum of my mother’s absences–both physically and emotionally– still profoundly affect me to this day.

This principle was also exemplified by how I was treated by my paternal grandparents.    I had been born with dark brown hair, and was also the last granddaughter born to these people, who had quite a glut of grandsons before me.  So I was the favored one, until I was about 9.  By that time, my celebrity status with those grandparents was waning considerably…they far more enjoyed babies and smaller people than I was at the time.  The regime change came about at the birth one of my cousins to a baby girl, and I was officially history.  My grandparents tolerated me from then on, but certainly didn’t extend their attention or affection the way they had before.  It was a rude shock, and very painful.  Added to the rest of the emotional deprivation I had as a child, this really clouded my expectations of others and how they would behave toward me.

Naturally I also believed as a child (however much I was in error) that I was forgotten and brushed aside because I wasn’t good enough or important enough to be remembered and to be given attention.   There is still some measure of this belief that exists in me, and why this issue is still troublesome to me…hence the attention whore propensities and the fear of being forgotten.  Clearly I still need to refute the feeling of not being “good enough“, because it’s not true…and doing so is a struggle each day.  Along with refuting this lie, I evidently have some more growing to do, and I need to realize (more often than I do) that people do get busy, but that doesn’t mean they take away their love for me, or that they have forgotten me and never will speak to me again.  I really need to get it through my thick skull that if I can trust them with who I am and with my confidences, I can most certainly trust that they will not forget me!

My fearful expectation of being passed over mostly exists in the relationships I have with people older than me who have kids and grandkids themselves, or will have at some point.  For example, when my son was born and spent time with one of his godmothers, I really was happy about it…but always in the back of my mind was the worry that in a few years she would be a grandmother herself…and I expected her to just forget about both my son and me.  Not that she is a mean person, but because she would now have someone who was more closely attached to her who would be smaller and cuter and it would be easy to forget me and my son.   Of course it didn’t happen, but the fear was very real for me.

And it’s not just friends who (will) have grandchildren…it’s also when some of my friends’ children get married or have some other life event.   Unfortunately I can be quite an attention whore and it’s difficult for me when I am not able to have {much} attention from certain friends.  I worry that whatever event it is that is happening will permanently remove whatever affection my friend has for me, because their child is having a wonderful celebratory time in their life. I think I feel this way because it’s a “disruption” (however happy) of how things normally are–and my ensuing difficulty in accepting what I perceive as yet another “big” change in my life.

God is slowly getting through to me, however, that love is exponential–it’s not a limited quantity, and people are able to love more than one person at a time, very dearly, without any love being lost or used up.  He’s also slowly making me realize that what each of my friends feels for me is for me, and me alone.  I never before realized that it’s not removed or given away to some other special person in that friend’s life.    I had to be shown a couple of examples from my own life to really get the principle:  I dearly love my husband and children.  Yet I also dearly love my friends.  God loves everyone in the world besides me.  And God loves me.  One does not cancel out the other; they simultaneously exist.  And I am able to love more people all the time, as I meet them and build relationships with them, while still loving the others I already love.  This very simple and basic concept (for some) is highly profound for me, and the realization and understanding of it enables me to relax and enjoy my friendships more.

It’s really not as easy as some might assume to not have the expectation that everyone will behave in the same ways as my mom and my grandparents did.    At least for me it isn’t.  I really want to believe the best about people, but I expect the worst, because that’s often what happened.  However, God is helping me to induce my fearful heart into trusting others more, and trusting that they will be good to me…even my mom.  It’s really quite comforting to be able to just rest in the knowledge that the love my friends and family have for me is just for me, and that they do love me for my own sake.   And He’s slowly convincing me that I am good enough, no matter what I believed as a child and continue to believe as an adult who is still very much a child within.

I’m attempting to remember that each day I am a new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17), and as such, the past is gone and I am constantly being renewed and changed and matured into a different person. It’s difficult at best to remember, because I am quick to focus on what’s still incomplete and I beat myself up for not being farther along than I actually am.  I’m so grateful that God is much more merciful with me, and I hope to one day emulate Him more in being gentle with myself, as I work to emulate Him in all I do.    I look forward to the new year, and becoming more of a new creation in Christ.

I realized yesterday that when I am in this emotional upheaval each month, I become very insecure and nervous.  I worry that people I love have suddenly changed their minds about loving me, and about still being friends with me.  This is the time when I tend to blow situations out of proportion due to my insecurity and fears of being abandoned and forgotten.  When I’ve been in this “place” in the past, I have created much more trouble for myself by not just riding the wave of emotion I felt before I opened my mouth and started asking or even demanding (yes, sometimes I’ve been like this, much to my shame) reassurance from those I love best, that things truly are not as bad as I might fear.

Yesterday after church I was talking to one of my dear friends (the one I spoke of in my previous blog).  Recently, we’ve had a stretch of unprecedented peace and understanding between us, due to really clearing the air.  Both of us have been enjoying this new level of our friendship very much.  But yesterday when I was talking with her, I suddenly began feeling a bit odd–like I hadn’t felt in (what seemed like) a long time.  I felt a bit insecure again and was again worrying a bit about how things were between us.  Fortunately I didn’t make too giant an ass of myself by saying or doing the wrong things (a miracle of God),  and thought about it a lot when I got home.  I looked at the calendar and thought about it some more.  Finally it dawned on me what the problem was–I was just being a girl, and reacting to the usual premenstrual emotional blitz.

At these times, I need to hang on and ride out the wave of emotion, and preferably unloading all of my insecurity and angst into my journal.  Then I need to remember a series of things: first,  the relationships I have don’t suddenly become fragile and delicate.  Next I need to remember that I am still and always loved, no matter how shaky I feel on the inside.  Last, I need to remember that my wobbly perception of “how things are” between myself and a friend is mine, and not shared by others…and furthermore, in a week or so, I would be feeling “normal” again.   I never could understand the bewilderment on the faces of my friends when I would question them about how they felt things “were” between us, whenever I would be feeling this wave of unstable emotion.  Now I get it.

I  distrust myself to remember to do the above mentioned things each time I’m in this place in my cycle–I tend to have a short memory with such things in the first place, and I also am not good at remembering that things like this do ebb sooner than anticipated.   Even with the awareness that I do these things, and what the cause is, I don’t know that there’s anything I can do to change it…the antidote will have to come from God…but I’m not foreseeing Him zapping me with a “cure” any time soon!  I expect it’s part of the “curse”.

However, knowledge is power, and I do consider it a gift that I was made aware of my tendency to feel and see things this way when I’m “under the hormonal influence”.  And even if I don’t succeed in always remembering the things I listed above that would help stabilize me in those wobbly times, I can always try.  And that’s the goal.

The latter is what I really need to focus on and change how I “attack” it.  Let me give an example.  I have a dear friend who is wise in the Faith and who is very loving, faithful, and has a servant’s heart.  She has been there for me to vent to countless times, and she has given me her take on what I’ve told her.   What’s been difficult for me is that she is a private individual (to the extent that she only shares what she feels with her husband and God–unless she r e a l l y stretches, which is difficult for her), and is not verbally demonstrative with her friends (and I am the opposite of those!!!!!–though guarded with those I don’t trust or know well).  This last personality trait is especially difficult for me to understand, and I find that I am hurt by it…because I take it personally (which I take many things personally…more on that in subsequent blogs), and I know with much certainty {mentally} she is not aiming it solely at me.  Clearly my humanness gets in the way, here, and seems sometimes to take precedence over hearing the quiet and still voice of God, telling me He wants me to stay and be friends with her…indeed, for life.

It says in the “super hero handbook” (and that would be the Bible, folks):

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)–Love is patient… it is not easily angered… It.. always perseveres (Italics mine).

Yes, this is a very familiar scripture to many Christians, and one, I believe, that gets rushed through a great deal.  I find for myself that if and when I am frustrated with the above mentioned personality trait in my dear friend, I am focusing on myself and what I feel, instead of remembering what the meaning of love is, according to God.

Patient…not easily angered…always perseveres…..hmm…I’m feeling rather convicted, here.

When things get difficult sometimes, why do I feel like I could just walk away, after such investments of myself and time…and give up on these dear people?  Because I forget to keep my eyes where they belong, and get impatient.

So often I forget a very key commandment from Jesus: “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”  (John 15:13)  Which begs the question, What exactly does it mean to lay down one’s life for his friends? InterVarsity Press’ New Testament Commentary puts it this way “…the love Jesus refers to is an act based in a certain state of heart. Specifically, it is the laying down of one’s life based on willing the good of the other. By God’s grace we can indeed choose to will the good of the other, and we can choose to act accordingly. This is the love Christians are called to in Christ, for Jesus says we are to love one another just as he has loved us, which he immediately defines in terms of laying down of one’s life for one’s friends.”  And to me that means, putting down my will and my agenda, and putting the other person and their feelings before my own.  Owwch.

I also came across a question that has given me a great deal of pause…What are my motives for being friends with ________(insert name of someone I’m struggling with)?  As time goes by, I am feeling like my motives need to be more along the lines of wanting to serve and love, rather than to be served and loved.  A great acronym I read is JOY–Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last.  I am working to apply both of these in my life…to think of and put others before myself.

Very recently my abovementioned friend and I had a volley of emails and she ended up opening up and telling me how she felt about some things.  And when we talked recently, I thanked her for sharing with me, and told her that I understand that it was difficult for her to open up. It was really fantastic–I am so proud of her, and so grateful that she trusted me enough to do it.  It’s wonderful when God “throws us a bone” and shows us progress in our relationships when we struggle.  It makes the struggles bearable.  And in those moments is a blessed peace.

As a child, it was a safe place to vent about the hurtful things my mother would say and do when she was drunk, and about the other less “heavy” subjects that made up the rest of my life.  I always had a lot to say about things, and it was the safest place for me to unload.

As I got older, I continued for the same reasons, though the focus shifted from my mother’s antics to important things (to me) I was wrestling with, in trying to escape the mire of my traumatic childhood.  My journal was also a place for me to talk about the most intimate of subjects and happenings, without being ashamed or fearful of negative reactions to what was being said.  These days, my journal is on the computer, rather than books, which is handy because I can add photos to it very easily, while I write.  But I still keep it, and it still is a place for me to unload about the heaviest, most personal subjects…and to remember the content of certain conversations.  This is important to me because, while I am good at remembering facts, sometimes the content of conversations goes by the wayside, and I like being able to reference to them later–mainly to avoid repeating myself (one of my pet peeves) in a future conversation.

Today I went for a walk down “amnesia lane” and read many entries from several of my journals of years’ past.  Generally I stick to ones that are more pleasant and that consist of good memories, because, well, they’re easier to read.

I have never liked looking back at who I was, before, because the embarrassment I feel is almost physically painful for me whenever I remember and read about how much more dysfunctional I used to be.  I have never been tolerant or understanding of my own faults or flaws, and I have regularly beat myself up for having them.  However, I’ve held a double-standard for other people in this regard, and blindly believed that, while they had faults that could be “overlooked”, they must be stronger and better than me…aren’t they?

I am slowly learning that all of the people I know (and even ones I don’t) are incomplete, just like me,  and though this may sound very obvious, to some extent, it’s not to me.  I have felt all my life as though I was about 4 levels below people such as the other dear ones I’ve invested myself emotionally in–and have felt like (hoped?) all of them, at one time or another, could help me to feel less bad about myself (wrong) and like myself more (wrong again) and to help me feel less empty (way wrong).  Of course that’s impossible, because every human, whether they belong to God or not, is drowning on this earth, and is continually being pulled away from God (though we fight to stay close to Him).  A drowning person cannot save another drowning person….and this is why Heaven is so tantalizing to me and why I look forward to it so much…because I will no longer be drowning–I will be as close to God as I truly desire to be, and finally be complete and whole.  I also need to understand that all of the pieces God keeps revealing to me are not going to be completing the puzzle in this lifetime, and I would be better off accepting that.

I have felt that far “below”  my dear ones because, as one of my dear friends so bluntly put it, I don’t have any self-esteem.  And like so many other things in life, that can’t be rectified by anyone other than me, with God’s help.  I have to remember that this, along with everything else, is a process–and no matter how much I bitch about the fact that I hate it–it just is, and I need to accept it.  Of course, this has not escaped God’s awareness, and is something else He’s working on changing within me–but it’s a one baby step forward, 5 or 6 huge ones back.  I struggle so much with seeing anything good about and within me, and find that it’s very difficult to not look back at how I used to be, and not listen to the hurtful words of others, and measure my worth by these.

I need “God-esteem”–to be so marinated in His word and how He feels about me, that it will change my heart and my beliefs about myself.  So I go back to the Bible and read gems like  “I have loved you with an everlasting love”–and “you are precious and honored in my sight, and…I love you”.  Then it starts to sink into my {dense} heart and mind how important I am to God…and since He’s the most important Person, and the most trustworthy…well, I need to believe it.

Not believing it is calling God a liar, and I really don’t feel comfortable doing so.

Naturally this belief is one I’ve carried since I was a little person.  It seemed like all of the bigger people in my life (until I met one certain friend, and then others) were only happy with me and loved me if I did everything right–and came totally unglued and berated me if I didn’t.  It also has to do with my parents being alcoholics–and especially the fact that my mom was the only present parent for most of my life.   In my reading, I have learned that:

* The alcoholic is the center of household activity, and the children spend much time trying to stabilize their relationship with the alcoholic parent.

Take this blog, for instance.  I am actually struggling about what to write, so I don’t offend any of my friends or family who might read it.  The purpose of having the blog is to get what I am feeling out, so I can look at it and sort through it.  However, the feeling of wanting the approval of others is still quite prevalent and has an impact.  I just need to decide how much of an impact I will allow it to have on me, because if I keep buckling under the weight of being afraid of others’ disapproval, I will not make any headway in becoming free of it.

It also has to do with my propensity of saving face.  If a situation is not putting me in a good light, I immediately shy away from telling others about it–and I also try to determine which of my friends would be understanding about it, if I do tell, and before I tell.  So not only am I trying to appear above suspicion of being human *E rolls eyes*, I have a distrust of my friends and what they will or won’t understand by “screening” them before I share.  And that’s wrong of me.  Trust is, after all, having faith in someone else, and should be a cornerstone of friendship.  If I trust someone, I should trust them more, and not just in the areas that make me look good.  Boy, I’m really feeling convicted by this!

I have no problem in asserting my opinion or indeed of having one; I am definitely one to give my mate an earful about something that’s currently pissing me off…but I lack the confidence to go to someone (other than my husband or kids) and tell them to their face that they’re pissing me off…and especially to not go back later and apologize and tell them I didn’t mean it–which is a lie–so they’ll be “happier” with me again.  I don’t exactly know what I’m afraid of in conflicts–especially when it involves someone I am not emotionally invested in. I just have to remember Matthew 18:15–“If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you“.  It’s as simple as going to someone who hurts my feelings and say,”I don’t like what you said/did, and it _________” (fill in the blank–hurt my feelings, pissed me off, etc.).   This is what I tell my kids to tell each other and their friends when they’ve been in similar situations.  Perhaps I’m over-thinking this principle, and can just do what I tell my kids to do.  Putting it down to such a basic concept certainly makes it easier to implement.

If my kids can do it, I know I can.  <3

To be sure, I had no business getting married when I did, even though I was 22.  I was hardly more than a little girl in a young woman’s body, with fears and insecurities that still boggle my mind.  I think at the time, I wanted to get married because I wanted proof (to myself and everyone else in the world) that I was lovable and that someone wanted me.  Stupid reason.  But God being as good and as gracious as He is, he gave me a wonderful husband, who truly loves me, no matter what.

We had a lot to adjust to in being married.  First of all, we’d never spent more than a few days at a time in each others’ company in the three years we dated, and we lived 600 miles apart.  We enriched the postal service with letters, because back then, there was no Internet.   Cell phones were for the rich, and were the size of bricks.  We’re still embarrassed about how much we spent in phone bills over that course of time.  It was not unusual for us to spend anywhere from 4 to 8 hours on the phone, talking to each other…and a couple of 12 hour conversations, as well.  He went to work on more than one occasion not having had any sleep!  But hey, we were in love.  Secondly, we had both been on our own for the few years we were dating, so we were set in our ways.  We butted heads a lot –about money, mostly.   Some of our earliest conflicts were very ugly!!  In my immaturity I would stoop to character assassination and saying horrible things to him.  I couldn’t understand how I could love him so much, and be so angry with him at the same time that I felt I could cause physical harm to him!  Little did I realize that I have an anger problem (small wonder!)–but more on that in a different blog.

We both believe firmly that our marriage has flourished the way it has for a few different reasons.  First because we invited God in, and asked Him to be in the center.  Next because we spent so much time talking when we were dating, and finding out what each of us wanted for our futures–and how we wanted to raise our kids, when we had them.  It was very helpful to iron much of this out early on.    Another reason is because we abolished the word ‘divorce’ from our collective vocabulary–we considered our vows to be deathless and view our marriage as a one-way street–and we travel forward together, and do not deviate from it.  And the last reason is because we truly are best friends and have always talked everything out.  There’s never been a time, even early on when we’d argue, etc., when we could be angry with each other and be apart for very long a time.  He is still the only I can say anything to, and be understood…and the only human I tell everything to.  He’s also the one I am the most real with, because I feel safe enough to.  But that’s changing, in that I am working on being more real with everyone.

He learned to love me more, even when I would be abominable.  He’s learned more patience.  He’s learned to pass on God’s grace and mercy to me, that he receives…instead of keeping it.   I learned to be a support to him, instead of trying to take over. I learned that marriage is hard–much harder than I ever imagined! I learned patience, as well,  and how to love him more.  I also learned that it’s great to have someone else to consult when I don’t want to have to make the decision!

We have been through a lot together–losing two babies, losing a few jobs, my depression, the antics of my alcoholic mother, the effects of my childhood sexual abuse and rape, living with his parents upon our arrival to Canada…many things that could have pulled us apart.  And we are so grateful that God has taken those challenges and use those to bond us together, instead.

I also hope it doesn’t sound like I am bragging about what we have, because I truly don’t mean to.  We both are fully aware that our marriage is a blessing–a huge gift from God, and it’s only wonderful–not because of anything we do or have done, but because God’s glory is being reflected in it.

I’m looking forward to growing old with him, and he with me.