I attend a group meeting called Celebrate Recovery in which people go to recover from their “hurts, habits, and hangups.” We say in the group that it’s okay to not be okay. I feel that the group should really be called “A Place for Humans” – because if you don’t have a habit or a hangup, you still hurt sometimes. We’re people. We aren’t perfect. So it’s a refreshing place where people get together and worship God and allow Him to help us with our struggles. I’ve been attending for a year now and it has really opened my eyes to the fact that I never want to stop growing as a person. Also, we admit our faults to God, ourselves, and someone we trust. I feel that admitting my faults holds me accountable, allows people to see the real me, hopefully relate to me in some way, and we can grow together. It can be extremely difficult to be vulnerable, but it can also bring extreme healing. So, here we go…
I wrote this a couple weeks ago:
Just recently, after praying about it, God revealed to me how much I truly love my husband. This is not a Hallmark card. He is not Superman. But events in the past few days have opened my eyes to the fact that I love that about him. In fact, I love people like that in general. Flawed people. We all have flaws, but the ones who come out and show their scars and say, “Let me tell you what I learned about this one,” are especially beautiful. And that’s why I’ve recently fallen back in love with my Blakus. I’m so proud of him, and I don’t think he knows it. He is slowly but surely coming to terms with who he is, why he is that way, and that it’s okay to not be perfect. Which reminds me, I am having those same realizations lately, which allows me to love myself more than ever before, which really helps me in loving him. “Love thy neighbor” has presented itself to me lately, and God, you’re finally getting through. Thank you!!
I never felt like I would be one of those people who had an “Ah ha!” moment one day and just stopped doing the thing that was hurting themselves or others, right then and there. (I still drink…) But after a crazy emotional breakdown the other night about feeling neglected by my partner, the clouds seemed to break through. We had a talk. We opened up. We listened, we teared up, we threw around ideas, and we LOVED. And that is the only thing we can do at the end of the day that will keep us sane and together. LOVE. So baby, I promise to keep loving you even at the end of the day when you come home mentally exhausted from work and unintentionally ignore me; all I ask is that you keep loving me even when I get neurotic and act like a spoiled only child dying for attention. And I know you will. You always do. That’s just one of the many reasons I love you. Muah.
I used to look at the way other men treated their women (from my 5%-of-the-time perspective) and think, “Why can’t Blake do that? If only he wouldn’t do this, we could be as happy as they are.” That grass is so green…
That grass may be the greenest of the green, but when you pull it up, you’ll notice it has no roots. And it feels like plastic. It doesn’t have that beautiful, grass-like smell. It may never need to be cut or watered, but it can also never GROW. That grass, my friends, is fake.
I always had a hard time with relationships growing up. I was never satisfied. No matter how sweet, how chivalrous, how stoic and manly the guy may have seemed, I ultimately always wanted greener grass. When I met Blake, I had no idea he was THE ONE. My step sister told me she wanted to meet him, and I said, “Wait 3 months to see if he’s still around.”
At the beginning of our relationship, a shiny piece of grass in another pasture caught my eye. It didn’t help that I was over 1,000 miles away from my new friend, so regrettably, I plucked that shiny blade as I always had before. I knew immediately that this blade was fake, dropped it, and hopped on a plane back to Blake’s pasture, which I knew then was real.
Since then, another pasture has tried to catch my eye. And I will honestly admit I had looked longingly at that grass a few times when mine had several weeds in it. But then I had a dream. I was in a skyscraper hotel with Blake, and needed to go down the elevator by myself to get something. Blake waited patiently for me at the top, meanwhile I was met by the man in the most recent other pasture. He didn’t look as I had remembered, seeing as I had only seen him once. He was still very sweet, and wanted me to come with him, but it was then that I wanted nothing more than to go back up that elevator and RUN to my husband. As vain as it may seem, that man being not as handsome in my dream signified to me that in real life his pasture is NOT greener than mine with Blake.
Blake and I live in a perfect pasture for us. It isn’t always green and shiny, but it’s REAL. Sometimes there are weeds, but we pull them. There may be occasional dry patches, but we water them. We take care of our grass the best way we know how, and continue to learn every day. For the rest of our lives, we will be watering, weeding, cutting, and fertilizing this pasture. But I wouldn’t give up this grass for the most beautiful garden in the world, because this pasture was made for me.