Years

December 1, 2018

I’m the kind of person who finds meaning everywhere, and yesterday, the last day of November 2018, was a monumental anniversary for me. It was the 20th anniversary of my first kiss with my husband. Our last kiss was about 12 weeks ago.

I knew I was going to be hyper-aware of the significance of the day all of Friday. I alternate between joy and grief over the whole situation, so I planned a fun evening with friends to prevent the possibility of sitting at home alone and sad. If I’m sad, I thought, I will drown my sorrows surrounded by my very loving and supportive crew, and if I’m happy, I will celebrate the relief of a long season ending and a new one beginning.

Luckily, yesterday was an amazing day all around, and such a fun evening. We glitzed up. We went out. It felt like New Year’s Eve. Huzzah!

I love new beginnings.

I had decided to go overboard with the self-care all week, starting last Sunday. First, Sunday morning was a very special morning for reasons I won’t get into, but I went into the afternoon feeling connected and loved. I got a haircut, and I then I bought myself flowers.

As I walked away from the flower shop, in the drizzle, holding a beautiful bouquet, breathing in the fresh air and feeling so happy, a thought rushed in so suddenly:

God took away the third thing.

About ten seconds later, I also realized that that thought, which I will explain momentarily, did not dampen my mood whatsoever.

God took away the third thing, and I am just fine.

The 20th anniversary of the kiss happened to coincide with the 20th anniversary of the day I moved out of home. (My hot friend who had a car was helping me move.) That last day of November was sort of the first day of my adult life.

In my early twenties I developed three big hopes and dreams for my life. I imagined all three unfolding in time, and just sort of assumed that was how my life would go. As things turned out, God shut the door quite firmly on the first one about five years ago. Shortly thereafter I realized the door had also drifted shut on number two while I stopped paying attention. I sighed and let it go. And now here in 2018, I realized, the ending of my marriage signals the death of my third and final big hope. And honestly, it was probably the biggest of the three.

But, I’m fine.

And then:

Well, what are you going to do now God? Here I am. Whatever you want.

And I felt grateful, and happy, and free, and excited about the future.

I’m fine because God already replaced the first dead dream with a better one. Actually the first dream has been resurrected but completely transformed. The heart of it is still the same, but the way God worked it out it is going to be so much better. And the second dream, that I thought was long gone, seems to be resurrecting in new and unexpected ways.

On Monday night, I found out that on the evening of the upcoming anniversary, my husband would be picking up his new girlfriend from the airport. My kids are going to meet her this week. I realized that I didn’t really care. So many new beginnings. Another sign of time passing.

I don’t know exactly what is coming for me, but I have been celebrating this new beginning all week. I’ve kept up on the self-care daily, and I was deliberate about doing the kinds of things I wished a lover would do. I have a few wonderful friends who have stuck close to me during this entire process, and they pulled in especially close this week without me having to ask them to. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about blogging regularly again. For the writing exercise as well as an outlet to declutter my headspace of thoughts that are distracting me from my real writing.

The next posts, as you guessed it, will talk about the three dreams, how they died, and what God may be remaking from the remains.

Happy New Year! Thanks for reading and celebrating with me.