To hear and to see

Dear self…..

It’s okay that you feel sad. I know it was something you wanted to do, play music with him and talk to him and rekindle a friendship with him. 

In all honesty, you are doing your best to be a good friend. And though you are discouraged because it seems to be thrown back in your face, you can also be happy that you are trying; trying to be good. Trying to be happy. Trying to honor who you are and what you stand for. You stand for humility, responsibility, honesty, and vulnerability. Relationships that last are built on trust - you know this. I am so sad that you feel like you cannot trust him anymore. What a heartbreaking thing. 

I do- I remember how much fun the beginning of the semester was, and how much you looked forward to being with Jacob. I remember how you felt you had a friend - someone who heard you and saw you for who you were. I think that in a way, he still does that - though you may not fully see it. And you are definitely shy and hesitate to talk about that. I understand. I hear your crying and see your tears. I see your heartbreak and hear your prayer to find someone who will be your good friend. 

I know you wonder what has changed. What could have possibly gone wrong because you feel like there’s distance between you two. I don’t know what to do about it, but I know God does. I hear you, Alissa, and your pure heart makes sense. If Jacob feels uncomfortable around you, that doesn’t mean you have done something wrong or are all of a sudden walking the wrong road. It just means he feels differently than you do.

And now that you know what it feels like to be around Jacob (at least, previous to this distance), you can look for that same, deep connection with someone else. Remember that Jacob is his own person and you cannot force your expectations on him. You cannot expect him to do something and then feel hurt when it doesn’t happen. You just have to trust the Lord and trust you will be okay. 

That this isn’t something to be worried about. Marriage will happen when it needs to, and when you find that celestial friend, I think you will know. 

❤️ Alissa

Surprises

 I love surprises. 

The ones that make you giggle and grin from ear to ear. 

I love to plan them and to be the recipient of them. I love to watch people smile as the surprise unfolds, as the door opens and they see twenty people in the room instead of zero. 

And I keep hoping that God is just waiting to surprise me with something exciting, something good. Because…do you ever feel like life doesn’t slow down? That, yeah, there are happy and exciting things along the way, and yet you just yearn for at least one good thing for which you’ve been praying for a very, very long time? 

I don’t believe that God willfully causes anything which, for his own purposes, he permits. Meaning, I don’t think God causes suffering, unfortunate circumstances, or any number of difficult fortunes that befall us. 

Sometimes, hard days go on for many days at a time. And it’s not that God caused them or didn’t hear your prayer. 

I don’t know why it’s like that. I don’t know why some trials last a long, long time.

Nor do I know why it is that when one trial ends, so often another begins. And the “hard day cycle” starts over…

And over…

And over.

And my most recent one nearly took the life out of me. 

Remember that part of childhood when we dressed up and played make believe? When our mothers made or bought us princess outfits and we played outside for hours on end, never willing to give up the freedom of make belief? 

Remember the happily ever after? Well, what do you do when it comes to the previous life you lived, but it doesn’t come to you? What do you do when you’ve tried your whole life to be good, and the story you keep telling yourself (because circumstances reinforce those faulty core beliefs) is that it will just never be yours.

See, one main faulty core belief that I’m fighting is this belief that I don’t get to have a happy endings in this life.

I’m always one song too late.

One glass slipper short.

One dress too old.

One minute too slow. 

….

He’s getting married.

Yes, him. 

The one I thought would be my prince. The one I danced with and sang with… the one to whom I gave my heart. 

That was a lovely Christmas present. 

….Surprise….

And I’m terrified for his new wife. You know, the one in the place that used to be mine. 

It’s like I’ve just gone through grieving the loss of a loved one, who then comes back and denies my very existence. It feels like my tears mean nothing. Heartache? Nothing. Feelings? Nothing. Love? Nothing. 

There was this moment - when he reached out to me to pay a debt from the divorce that he never paid. He had told his Bishop he was up to date on all legal matters relating to the divorce. Well, that was a lie. Intentionally stated or not. But he had been informed of his financial obligation and had chosen not to pay it. Now his new marriage depended on it. 

Lovely. 

So back when he didn’t pay his portion? Guess what. I paid it all. And there was nothing left inside me to fight him to pay his.

Upon receiving news from his bishop, stating he claimed to have taken care of all financial obligations, I responded that actually, he wasn’t current on those obligations. 

The response? 

A text. From my ex husband. 

At first I was angry when I received the text, that he was finally willing to reach out and pay money. 

And then, he had the audacity to ask if I was charging interest.

Interest? On what? The last two years of ….??

As if money could ever suffice, could ever mend a broken heart, could ever take the place of a sincere apology. “Alissa, I’m so sorry I cheated on you, broke my covenant to God, was unfaithful and disrespectful. I’m so sorry I abused you and hurt you and told you that your body wasn’t good enough for me. I’m so sorry I manipulated you and set you up to be the recipient of all the blame. I’m so sorry.”

No, none of that. Just an offer to pay me more money.

Well, money doesn’t buy forgiveness. 

Now, at this surprising moment of finding out that he was preparing for marriage in the temple; at this moment of unexpected feelings, finally, I was able to hold him responsible for one thing. Finally I was brave enough to stand up for myself. 

And in that moment of texting, when he reached out and asked for a way to pay me, I stared at his message, his phone number unsaved in my phone, but I still knew it by heart. 

I was choosing whether or not to congratulate him. I was surprised and hurt and confused at the same time. 

Shocked and speechless are good words. 

My fingers slowly typed out, “Congratulations on your engagement”

And for longer than I can admit, my thumbs hovered over the exclamation point. 

!

Christ gave me strength to forgive him once. Though sometimes it’s a daily effort. And this time? It was a physical sign of whether or not I truly had forgiven him. 

To some people, it may not make sense. But to me, that exclamation point represented how far I had come. And…was I willing to go even further?

….

“!”

*send*

Relief. Tears. Disbelief. Grief. I did that. 

No, no no. I had pushed “send” with my thumb, yes. But Christ had given me the strength to do it. And the feeling of forgiving him. 

And now?

Well…I guess I’ll just keep waiting for a better surprise. 

You know…the kind that catches me when I least expect it. The kind that makes me smile - ear to ear- and laugh and wish that it would never end. 

A surprise worth waiting for. 

Dear broken heart

I love you. I’m here for you. I’ll teach you how to sit in the pain and the sadness of it all. I’ll teach you how to hold the grief in a place of truth, because his actions say nothing about your worth and nothing about your lovability. 

Just because he chose her over you; lust over love; immediate gratification over long term connection; just because he chose all those things doesn’t mean you aren’t beautiful and brilliant and caring and kind. You are and always will be enough. 

The good thing about broken things is that God knows how to mend them. And while we have faith that he can do it, sometimes we have to learn to sit in the pain until He will. He isn’t waiting to heal you because He wants to punish you. No- He knows that those who feel deep hurt likewise have a great capacity to love.

And you know how to love deeply, don’t you. 

Your healing will take the Saviour’s love and perhaps hours and days and years. And I will sit here and grieve with you over the dates you never had, the dances you never danced, the pastries you never made, the children you never created, and the love you felt begin to fade. I will help you know that because the grief makes sense, the hurt makes sense, the pain feels real, the ache doesn’t leave... it all means that you are a wonderful individual with righteous desires and a beautiful heart. 

And a whole lot of grief. 

And you know something? That’s okay. 

Pain.

 It hurts too badly, yet I can't stop it from coming. The memories flash back in my mind as fast as the sunlight can hit my skin, bringing tears into my eyes as fast as a shooting star in the night sky. Yet unlike the sunlight and the stars in the sky . . . these memories leave only emptiness in their wake. 

The TV. . . . . . Merlin. . . we watched it together because it was the only activity I could think of to do together at the time. He wasn't keen on connecting in other ways, so I suggested we do something he enjoys doing. We watched a whole television series together. He and I.

Bacon. Eggs benedict. As I walk through the store, looking for the ingredients to create new memories with one of my favorite foods to eat with him, I remember back to the times we would make it together. I would save up and splurge a little bit to buy the best kind of bacon. The kind he loved. This time, I wanted to make it for my sisters and I on Valentine's day . . . wanted to make a new memory with it. We made it so often, he and I. 

A hug. One of my friends hugs me and my roommates, thanking us for a gift we have given to him. It's such a wonderful hug. I haven't been hugged that way by a man in a very long time. And I miss it. His arms, wrapped around me, pulling me close, helping me to feel less afraid. I hugged him every chance I got, even after he would relapse, even after we had an argument, even ....that day that I left him. I tried, I gave it my all, I gave him my heart. We used to hug each other, he and I. 

Sometimes the pain comes back with such force that tears are instantly in my eyes. I can't break the memory. The images are too powerful. The feelings so real. Yet someday, when little moments in my life trigger memories and flashbacks, I'll have the capacity to feel them and let them pass through me. . . . Someday, I'll be strong enough to recognize the grief without giving it power over me. For now, I'm trying to be brave and not let it sit inside of me. I'm trying to have courage to talk about it. 

But - the pain, the pain is suffocating. 

The songs I cannot sing

I open my mouth to tell you my dreams,

I try forming words, though futile it seems,

I ask you for aid and offer it back,

I give you my love, though it’s yours that I lack. 

I opened my heart, though clumsily done,

You opened your arms and by dancing, you won

I entrusted my feelings and my heart - nothing less,

Yet wondered...does love truly feel like this?

I wasn’t so sure how to cope with my pain - 

The pain of the distance and love that seemed feigned. 

I hoped that you loved me, though your words cut so deep, 

And I refused to believe that you’d do that to me.

But you did and it hurt. And I wished that instead 

You’d physically wound me than put thoughts in my head. 

My dreaming and singing, it all ceased in time...

I stopped believing that your hand would reach out for mine. 

Though I hoped for connection, no love can be forced,

So my silence and hopeless discouragement got worse...

I know I’m imperfect, if only you could know 

How over and over I’ve wept on my own 

To go back and hug my childlike past

And tell her to trust God, the darkness won’t last.

Yet over and over, I’ve wept on my own 

And wondered, but why did you never come home? 

Didn’t you love me, didn’t you....love me 

I’ve wept and I’ve wept, but you won’t ever see...

I sing now and dream now and open my heart 

And little by little the healing can start 

And yet, there’s a sadness no lyric can compose 

A song I can’t sing... and none but Christ knows.