Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Surviving the hand dealt by dissolution

I have taken to texting my estranged wife. Certainly not because it is easier to communicate that way, but it has become a way I can distance myself from the audible reminder of the one I wanted to love until the day I died.

I thought I would be strong enough to be emotionally isolated from the hurt of this loss, but nearly 2 years of getting used to being without Lucy, hasn't made the change any more natural or bearable.

I see the advances in telecommunication as a convenient work-around for those of us...an increasing number of social emo-phobes...who have come to prefer the more hands-off modes of communication like email and text-messaging. It brings a level of detachment that is probably not a healthy thing for me to be doing, since detachment is an aspect of my depression that I need to overcome. But similarly, the sound of Lucy's voice evokes too many painful reminders of a life and love we shared. The distance I hear in her voice is hard to bear. However, when the same information is transmitted via email or text the distance is undetectable. The tenor or emotional inferences within the spoken word are a fading dimension that used to be a part of the communicative arena. Less painful for me, but not necessarily a good thing.

I have to wonder if the communication was always spoken person-to-person, would the added emotional dimension of that discourse lend itself to any greater possibility for reconciliation? Am I strong enough to continue hearing the ring of my beautiful love's voice in the ear that is attached to a wrecked mind? It seems to me that the ultimate rejection can only be left behind if a person hopes to move ahead on their path. But personally, I cannot move ahead so easily when I am tied to the one who hates me.

I love my kids so awfully much. But sometimes I regret the fact that they keep Lucy strung to me like the carcass of some rotting albatross...preventing me from being completely free. I know such outlook isn't healthy or right in God's economy, but for now it is just what I am having to deal with.

Still, every time I get a text from Lucy, I hope that it holds some promise, no matter how slight, that she might be willing to salvage our relationship. But after nearly 2 years, her openness to the possibility of a re-start...clean slate kind of thing seems even less likely than it did immediately after she asked for the divorce. She no longer resembles the woman I married and raised kids with. She is a stranger that has moved farther and farther away in her heart from me. I'm sure my voice is as much a unwelcome reminder to her as hers is to me. They just evoke different emotions. Emotions each of us would rather be free of forever.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

My Blue Posts on John Shore's Blog

It has recently come to my attention that when signing up to respond to John Shore's Blog, I inserted the URL of the my church website (not really thinking it would show as a link from my name....oooops!). I serve as a minister in the media/publishing department of Maranatha Chapel. I'm not really a hands-on minister that counsels and teaches in the conventional sense. I'm more the rebrobate saved by marvelous grace who loves Jesus and was brought on staff as a janitor with a sick and twisted bent.

I retrospectively need to apologize for some comments I've made that could put my church and pastor in a bad light. Finding that the name over some of my more provocative responses, leads readers back to my church's website could lead some to think that people like myself have no business working for a church. But then I have to say that Jesus' disciples were just as fouled up and they did alright.

I'm not trying to excuse my departures from spiritual satiety, but I will be the first to admit that God's abundant grace has given me a sense of His inexhaustible forgiveness that I can't help but pay forward. I've changed my link to forward to my Blog (the one I rarely write to). Maybe the few posts will give my fellow posters on Shore's blog, a little insight to my addled and peculiar mind.

Summer of Bummer

Once again I note the cooling of the evening air and foggy mornings as Summer gives way to Fall. The deepening voices of some of my son's 12 and 13 year-old buddies reminds me that my youngest child will shortly become a young man. My daughter made the leap to adolescense two Summers ago. Seeing my baby girl busting out all over was hard for a dad who came late to the parenting game.

The Summer of Bummer saw the sale of the home I believed would be our "family place" for many years to come. Maybe even the place I would call home until I kicked the bucket. But divorce smacked that piƱata off the rope, over the fence, and into the smelly dumpster of reality. Funny how losing nearly everything that matters puts what we have left into the spotlight. The wad of cash representing my share of what used to be our home, sits in a couple of bank accounts waiting to be re-invested...maybe in a mutual fund that will hopefully keep ahead of inflation.

I'm frozen, inactive and waiting for providence to drop a golden ticket in my lap. After all, providence sent me my wonderful young wife, nearly 17 years ago. As for lightning striking twice in the same place, maybe thinking that God will once again pity the fool and warm the heart of my lost love...maybe I should just count my blessings, lick my wounds stop bitching about the past. But like I've posted previously, too many backward glances will often result in forward collisions. So I'll try to keep my eyes on the road.

Good-Bye, Lucy. I pray for your peace, happiness, and fulfillment. But really, I pray that you would be reconciled to Jesus. He is the ONLY one who NEVER leaves or forsakes.