Mental Wellness

Mental health is in the news more now than ever. The general population has a better (still not great) understanding of what depression is along with anxiety and PTSD. For the first time ever, I heard PTSD referred to as an illness caused by trauma and not just the "soldier's" illness.

Of course it is usually tragedy that brings discussion on mental illness. There's still stigma. There's still a huge lack of understanding and misunderstanding.

One of the things that makes me anxious when we've moved is how I will fit in with people who don't know me. That's crazy, because I fit in perfectly with people who don't know me. Too well! Nobody ever suspects there is a problem. I suppose my fear should actually come from the idea of someone getting to know me, the real me.

Before our first move nearly four years ago, I had an awesome support system. It had taken a while to get established and wasn't without trials. I had friends who knew me and loved me despite the truth of who and what I was.

When we moved to Ohio, I made the mistake of just assuming people would be just as loving and compassionate as that support system I had back home. Not so! They bristled against anyone who willingly said "I have issues." Ohio was also when my counseling stopped.

Despite the relational issues in Ohio, I had good mental health through those 2 1/2 years. I was strong, or so I thought. No, I was. Strong enough to attempt things I previously thought impossible.

I took one semester of classes online. They were hard, but passed. I succeeded and failed simultaneously. I had a successful semester and had enrolled in the next. My goal was a degree in christian counseling. Despite how well I did, I nearly had a full blown breakdown. The entire thing set my anxiety off in ways I could not control. I started not sleeping and barely making it through a day without a full blown anxiety attack.

After talking with my husband, we determined that maybe I wasn't quite ready for this type of stress. I was upset that I had failed to complete my goal, but happy that I had the energy to try. I could have chosen to not even try.

The following year, I agreed to return to work on a very part time basis. This was a disaster. It was an absolute failure. It was in a job that wasn't well defined and too many church politics. It too increased my anxiety and caused me to become more and more distant from my daily duties.

Again, after discussing with my husband, we determined it was too soon. Truthfully, it was probably a combination of wrong place and wrong timing. I was happy that I tried, but of course upset to not succeed.

The truth is that my anxiety, ptsd and other issues are a hinderance in working. I never know when they will flare up and all of those things make me unreliable and difficult.

I have been asked here if I will look for a job. Believe me, I would love to contribute to the household  income.

While we lived in KC, I got a little counseling. It was more for the trials that came with Kent's job and there was no work on any issues related to my anxiety, ptsd, etc. We didn't really have enough time to get into that during the few months of counseling.

Here, I have no counseling. We are still getting settled. I haven't even looked into what is available. This area is bigger than where we lived in Ohio, so there is a little better chance to get counseling here.

Maybe it is because our time in KC was so hard, but I didn't start out quite as well off here as I did in Ohio. It has been more difficult here. I find myself triggered a lot more here, probably backsliding a lot more.

I stay at home unless there's a reason to get out. I try not go to the grocery store without my husband. I get so overwhelmed that I hate being out alone. Honestly, if I can stay in a routine at home then I do ok. Getting out of the routine is hard and throws my day and maybe my whole week off. It isn't so much ocd, but the anxiety.

This move has been the hardest. We've had more problems with the actual move and house than in any other place. And that's saying a lot since our first move was into a house that was trashed.

So for now, there won't be a job. I'm not even looking, not interested in looking for one. I am best off at home where I have safety and my dogs to ground me.

It is interesting how some of this seems to come from flexibility and how much I have to be flexible. This move has pushed me to be flexible in a lot of ways. But, it's like I have zero flexibility left to give in other areas of my life and I have to be a little more rigid in order to maintain some stability. Although as I read that through, I realize you might have to be a professional to understand that.

All that to say, I'm trying to maintain some stability but it's been hard this time. My mental wellness has taken a hit over the past year and through this move. It might take some time to get back what I've lost.

Post Christmas 2 of 2

As I said, it was the best Christmas we've had in a long while. 

There wasn't loud, obnoxious people. 

There wasn't crazy, hard family dynamics. 

There wasn't fighting or rudeness.

There wasn't travel.

There wasn't pain.

Wait. There was pain. Grief, really.

The day was nearly perfect, but there was an unspoken, heavy grief that hung ever so lightly above us. 

We knew it was there, but we didn't talk about it and didn't let it slip into our day. Sure, it was discussed on all days surrounding Christmas. But Christmas, it was kept at bay. Maybe more so kept in our hearts and not on our tongues.

My husband missed his mother. She was the person who made his holidays special as a kid and some as an adult. He was 32 when we got married. She was his person for a lot of years before I came along. I respect that and am glad he had that. 

There's so much to be thankful for in her death. Christmas was so hard. She was forced by her husband into anxiety provoking situations. She was forced to sit and open gifts, belittled in front of the family when she couldn't remember who people were or didn't really understand how to thank someone. We had about five of those between diagnosis and death. I don't miss those at all! Honestly, Kent doesn't either. 

We didn't miss the loud, obnoxious hours of being in a room with Kent's family during gift opening. There's not one thing I enjoyed about that. I have lived through about 21 of those in the past 23 years. They suck! But, I know Kent missed it. Not the noise and all that, but the togetherness. 

For him, his grief includes the loss of his family as he has always known it to be. Last year, his family somewhat pulled their stuff together and it wasn't a total loss. This was the first year that his family literally had no family Christmas of any kind. The first time in over 50 years. That's sad and hard. It isn't likely to ever happen again either. His grief wasn't as much about not being there, but for what will never be again.

We both had an overwhelming sense of aloneness this Christmas. It has been this way for me, but felt heavier this year as we both walked this path. This was the first year EVER for both of us to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas completely alone, with each other. We have always spent at least a portion of one of the holidays with his family and/or friends and/or both. I had to stay off social media that day. It was too hard to see everyone hopping from celebration to another and no that we were alone. 

There was a part of this that was infuriating more than painful. We spent a lot of time buying, shipping, etc. gifts for his family. His dad thanked us, but nobody else. I don't even care that they don't put that kind of effort into sending gifts to us, but good grief at least acknowledge that you received the gift. I think we are officially done buying Christmas and birthday gifts for all family and will likely ask that nobody send us anything in the future. I'm over this off and on kind of thing and value time over gifts. I would rather spend one good day with family than deal with the frustration surrounding gifts.

I mentioned in a previous post that I was feeling grief over my grandparents this year. That was certainly true for Christmas day. It was so much easier to recall all the good times. I had memories of times with them that I probably had not remembered in over 20 years. Of course there was a fair amount of grief over that. I didn't let it ruin my day or holidays, but it was a sadness unlike any I've felt. 

Of course no holiday would be complete without feeling that loss of family. That gets easier each year, but is there. 

I would not have traded this Christmas for any in the past. It was truly the best. My hope is that they only get better as these things improve over the years. 

Post Christmas 1 of 2

Oxymoron. Maybe our Christmas was an oxymoron. 

Our Christmas this year might have been one of the more difficult, but best we've had in a long while. 

We had originally planned to go to Tennessee for Christmas to avoid the tough times. In fact, we had reservations for about three weeks. After the forecast called for five straight days of rain there, we canceled the Monday before Christmas. Of course, as the day arrived, Tennessee had perfect weather with just a momentary rain on Christmas Eve.

However, the change was the best thing we could have done. 

Our weather was really iffy, cold but not sure if we would have snow. The day before Christmas Eve, it looked more and more like we might have a dusting to have a White Christmas. It was cold and snowed, but never amounted to much leading up to the holiday weekend. 

On Christmas Eve, we got up and headed to a church we had visited the week prior. It turned out to be a beautiful service that honored the birth of our Savior. Even though it was 10 am, we had a beautiful candlelight service. We drove in a brief snow shower on the way to church and the morning was perfect. 

After church, we headed to Dayton to do last minute shopping. That means, my husband did last minute Christmas shopping while the dogs and I hung out in the car and watched people act erratically. We got home in time to watch some football and Christmas Vacation. It did start snowing that afternoon/evening.

We woke up to a cold morning with about 4" of snow, a white Christmas indeed. I tried to surprise my husband with bubble bread like his mom made, but failed miserably since I was missing a key ingredient. 

We swapped gifts and gave the dogs treats out of their stocking. We changed things up a little this year with the loss of our Lucy. We decided to go down to one dog stocking and one each for us. The dogs' was a dog that shook it's ears and sang Christmas music. Remi loved it!

The dogs napped with full bellies and my husband watched tv while I started on lunch. 

I fixed a prime rib for the first time. I was a little nervous. Such an expensive cut of meat and one shot to make it right. It turned out great. I made mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce and we had a cake from the local grocery store. Since the oven would be occupied by the prime rib, I decided to bail on baking a dessert. Lunch was wonderful. It was certainly better than our Golden Coral Thanksgiving lunch. 

There were naps and tv. It was an incredibly peaceful day, so relaxing. Kent talked to his dad and sister that night and we got two texts from friends. 

The day was everything I could have wanted it to be. We had a beautiful snow fall and everything we needed or wanted. 

Kent was off for four days at Christmas and four days at New Years. It was nice to have so much time with him. We also got a lot done, like getting drivers licenses and car tags transferred. It was a huge relief to get all that done before the close of the year. 

My Grief

The week before we headed out here, I lost my grandpa.  To date, I still have no clue what he died from or where his remains are. My greedy family had him cremated and he had not been buried beside my grandma as of the last time we were back in Kansas in November.

Let me start by saying, my grief is not motivated by some idea that I would have spent the holidays with him. I would not have.

My grandma died 19 years ago. I was angry for a long time. Then, the dam broke and I was angry at both of them for abuse and their inability to stop the abuse they knew was happening in my home. It took years of counseling for me to come to a place of forgiveness with both of them.

I forgave my grandpa in my heart, thinking I would never see him again. I had been told in the last few years that he had developed dementia. Even when I had the opportunity to see him, I did not.

When I went to see him in the hospital, days before he died, something happened. There is a huge difference between forgiving someone in your heart and mind and forgiving someone face to face.

In his hospital room, with my husband watching, I forgave him. I held his hand, kissed his head. I told him I was sorry he was going to die and that I forgave him. I told him that I loved him and left.

Despite the next several days of high emotion over what my family was doing, I was forever changed.

I can't really say it enough. Forgiving in person is far more powerful than forgiving a person you never see again. It is life changing.

For me, it has allowed me to release and file away the bad things that happened with my grandparents. With that, there has been a flood of memories with them. Not bad, but all good. Keep in mind, there were usually other bad memories associated with them, but they weren't related to them. Ie.being molested by a cousin at their house, abused by my dad for going to their house, etc.

One of the things my grandparents did well was celebrating Christmas. This season has brought memories of so many good times. My grandparents had a santa come to their house. They loaded us all up and took us to look at Christmas lights. They gave us very personal gifts that were usually something we really, really wanted.

Not only have I been able to enjoy those memories, I have been able to grieve them for the first time since they ended over 25 years ago. That has been really good for me. I know grief isn't typically something that is good. This is. It is good to grieve something from my childhood that I miss, something I loved. With my childhood the way it was, this is probably the only thing that was good.

This experience has allowed me to truly grieve my grandparents and the ways they were good in my life. I finally have some permanent closure in part of my life and it is good. I hate that he is gone. I believe there's a possibility he was a christian when he died. I know he had health problems that he would not recover from and he is no longer suffering with those.

There was a point when I questioned what all of this was for. I questioned why my brother made it possible to say goodbye to him but then bailed on me and still has never told me why. I questioned why they couldn't have just let me know when he died and be done with it. Obviously, I have explained the greatest reason why above. Losing him was ultimately a good gift to me. But there was something else.

As I sat crying with my husband in the car on our way to the dump one day, I got his perspective.

He shared with me what he saw that day at the hospital. He told me that he saw a strong woman who had been hurt and who walked in without any doubt and forgave the person who hurt her. He said he not only saw me forgive him, but he saw me love him. My husband who rarely shares anything from his perspective when it comes to my family and me, had seen the entire thing. He was telling me what I knew but what he saw. He said he saw in that moment someone who had maturity and love and healing.

Sometimes I think he only sees the bad stuff that I go through. I am glad he was able to see with his own eyes this experience. I think it was important for him to see that all the tears and years of counseling and fighting has brought progress. Of course we know the cost, but it isn't lost on me that without it none of this would have been possible.

Weeks later, I can certainly reflect on this and see how God uses trials for His good. Beauty from ashes. My grandpas death has brought some beautiful things along with the grief.

Christmas Blues

Christmas snuck up on me this year with the move and trying to get settled. A week ago, I hadn't bought one gift. I felt like I was doing great to have the tree up and the house decorated.

We do have the excitement of being in a new home and Kent with a new job. That's a little buffer for the normal Christmas blues. But, this year is different.

There is the usual sadness over being alone, for me especially. I can't really imagine what spending Christmas with a family is really like. I never had a normal Christmas with my family and the last one was 11 years ago. I had many Christmas's with Kent's family, but was never really a part of it.

There's a profound sadness when you look at your life and realize there is only one person who wants to be with you on Christmas. One person who loves you enough to give you a gift. One person who even knows where you are or what you are doing on Christmas. Thank God for my husband. Without him, I would have nobody.

My husband is still grieving his mother this year. This is our second year without her, but she hadn't been with us for three years before that. It was five years ago this week that I called her and she didn't know who I was. I am not sure holidays will ever get any easier for him.

I have some grief of my own this year. I'll be writing about that by itself, but the loss of my grandpa has opened the door for something I never expected.

Thanksgiving was so busy for us. We were unpacking and trying to make sense of this whirlwind move. But, Christmas will be slower and it will be tougher to be alone. At least we are settled enough that I can cook instead of head to Golden Coral.

Kent has gotten to be a part of several celebrations at work. His work is really good to him. We did get invited to a gingerbread house decorating party. It was so much fun. We've also tried to pick up a couple of the local light displays and may do somethings this weekend.

We are definitely trying to overcome the blues and make new memories. We have been working hard to fight the natural bent to just sit around and wallow in our grief and pain.

Funny Thing About Moving

Moving 3 times in 3 1/2 years has taught me a lot. One thing is that moving will show you exactly who your friends are.

About a year before our first move, I had a dear friend move. From my perspective, she was uncaring and cavalier about moving away. At that time, another friend explained to me that it is harder to be left than to leave. That was right. During our first move, I had excitement and a certain amount focus on the future. It was during that time that I really got it.

I was leaving everyone behind. I wasn't focused on them, I was focused on me and what needed to happen to make the transition. My friend who moved away wasn't uncaring or cavalier. She was focused on what needed to happen. She was moving. It wasn't that me or my feelings didn't matter, it was that at the time she needed to be focused on herself. I was the same way.

The thing I don't and never will understand is how quickly things dissolve once you do move away.

My friend who moved away and I still stay in touch. I hear from her nearly daily and she's the first person I share my life with and the person I usually ask for prayer. Since our first move, I have only one friend who's stayed in contact with me.

When I left the first time, I had a ton of friends. The first month we were gone, I got lots of texts. They eventually stopped. That first year, we had four visitors. The second year, we had three visitors. While in KC, I went months without seeing anyone. It is almost like after we moved away the first time, we were permanently forgotten.

Since we moved to Indiana, I've had one person text me. That's it. The same person from back home who's stayed in contact since the first move.

I still scratch my head. Friends of 19 years, 10 years, 8 years, 5 years and so on. Nobody bothers to contact us any more. In fact, most of the contact we make goes unanswered. It's sad. I know I didn't reconnect with too many people while we were in KC, but gosh. We literally hear from NONE of them. Even friends that were close enough to know how tough this move was going to be have abandoned us. It's painful and I fight anger.

There is a ray of sunshine in all of this. We are just under 2 hours from where we lived in Ohio. I made a friend there, really we made friends with a family there. This woman and I have stayed in touch since we moved from Ohio. She is an encouragement to me and I appreciate that she takes the time to check in on me as I try to do the same. Her and her son came to visit the day after we moved in and I can't wait for her to visit again. In fact, I look forward to being able to do things with her and her family in the future.

While I am sad that I don't mean much to many people, I am thankful that I mean something to a few people.

Here We Are

Here we are in Indiana. It has been a busy couple months and things are just now slowing down.

How did we get here?

My husband started his job in Ohio on October 23. During that time, we lived started out in an extended stay hotel. We went through a little uncertainty with the sell of our KC home. However, that got wrapped up and crazy enough, closed on the original date from our first contract. It was super fast!

Long story short, we spent two weeks in the hotel and looking at houses every chance we got. We knew that we had to be back in KC on the third week, but knew our time in extended stay was not over. We got kicked out of our hotel (crazy, crazy story with liars and crazy women) and got $1000s of unapproved charges on our credit card from the hotel. In the meantime, we had a debacle in house searches. We found a house that we liked. Got ready to put an offer on it only to find out the tax rate for Dayton and Montgomery County is outrageous. If you have a $1500 house payment, over $500 of that is taxes. No Thank You!

On Halloween, we switched agents and states. Kent's job is 10 minutes from the border of Indiana. We went on November 1st and looked at six houses. All six would have been perfectly fine. We were way happier than any of the 50 houses we had walked through in Ohio. We quickly narrowed down our options to two. One was more expensive and bigger, the other was brand new and days from being finished. After some discussion amongst agents, the family in the first house wasn't willing to move in our time frame. So, we chose the new house. Contract negotiated and accepted.

I immediately emailed the agent who helped me with pre approval on the mortgage. Two days later (it went that long because things were crazy with hotel and trip back to KC), I finally called. The agent was no longer with the company and I got transferred around to the right person. It was now November 4 at 10 pm.

After explaining the situation, I told the mortgage agent that I wanted to close on November 21 so we could be in a home before the holidays started. That was 17 days. Let me tell you, there was nobody who thought this loan could be closed out in 17 days. Too many things had to fall into place perfectly and that was still no guarantee.

I had a crazy amount of faith and calm. I never doubted. I had every document I needed and the time to call everyday for updates. I scheduled the movers to be there on November 21 and I was not letting anyone convince me this couldn't be done.

There were hurdles and bumps along the way. Nothing I could control and nothing I could fix. We had delays in getting Kent's employment verified. There was confusion over property tax because Indiana is weird with property tax. There were delays with insurance and info that wasn't provided properly. They were small, but all threatened to delay closing.

I won't lie, those small things eventually frayed my nerves. We were living in a very small room at the local Best Western. It rained non stop over those ten days. The relocation company became increasingly difficult to deal with and I was still fighting with the previous hotel on charges.

It was stressful, but things got more exciting as the day got closer. We did close on our house on November 21. It was a 17 day turn around and the fastest some of our mortgage agents had ever seen.

Our lead agent was a christian man. He did amazing things behind the scenes. Things I didn't know about until the day of close. He immediately contacted the title company and keep in constant contact with them. He did magic with our closing numbers. We went to close with less than 5% of our home cost. I still have no clue how he managed to do all that.

Moving in was no small fete in itself. It was terrible, our worst yet. I think I'll save that for another post. It took one week exactly to get completely unpacked, situated and decorated inside the house. It shouldn't have taken that long, but was a result of very poor packing.

I'll have to write another post on how surprised I am by how different this is from our Ohio experience. It has been wonderful!

Big Changes

A couple months ago, my husband got serious about finding a new job. We had a long, serious discussion about whether to stay where we were or go elsewhere. I'll spare you all the details of that conversation, but we decided fairly easily to go.

After that discussion, his first interview was in San Antonio. Ugh! My heart was no in that one. Thankfully, it did not materialize. In fact, it was a disaster. Moving on!

Part of our discussion was about where we would look. Now would be a good time to mention, we have no intentions of ever moving back to KC. That's probably another post completely. I requested a colder region.

Before we really had much of a chance to decide, he was being pursued by companies in Chicago, South Carolina, Cincinnati, Indiana, Dayton and a few others. SC, no. Chicago, no. Anything Ohio, no. Those were my thoughts and with that, my husband focused on a job in South Bend, Indiana.

He flew out, did the interview and felt great about the opportunity. A few weeks later, he got the call that he had been chosen for the job. We were excited. I cried. I was beyond happy for him. We told a handful of people. We started the process of putting our house on the market. Unfortunately, that is where the excitement ended.

Things moved so slow. It took a week and three phone calls to get an actual offer in hand. Pretty quickly, we figured out that this company was very disorganized at this facility. Calls, emails and texts to the HR guy, his new boss and others went days to weeks without being answered if at all.

In the meantime, he had a very aggressive company near Dayton, Ohio who had a very persistent recruiter. While the other company fumbled over communications, my husband scheduled and followed through on an interview.

Now, keep in mind, I hated Ohio when I left. There wasn't much I ever wanted to go back for and I was very verbal about this up to the day we left for the interview. I have one person that I still consider a friend and I fought the mere idea of going back. In fact, after the interview, my husband wanted to look at houses and I said no. I knew there was no way God would make me go back to Ohio.

He put pressure on this company because he had a deadline to accept or decline the other offer. And...they met his deadlines. He had an offer in hand by Friday of the following week. The thing was, this offer was beyond what we could have ever imagined. It was nearly 25% higher in salary and the benefits were better. After comparing, the relocation package was absolutely better.

Long story short, he asked the other company to match and they decline. So, here we are.

He will be working west of Dayton, just off I70. He started the job this past Monday and I could not be more proud of him.

I will be honest, I am in a little bit of disbelief. I NEVER wanted to come back here. I swore I would never come back unless we were passing through. I have had to a lot of soul searching, praying and being honest with myself.

I know the key is going to be my openness to make this home. We are not in the same area, in fact we are going to be no further than 20 minutes from Dayton. That is not unlike our house in KC. We were out from the city and 20-30 minutes from anything. I've had to force myself into truly letting go of some hard feelings toward people and situations. I also had to do something that should come more naturally, but I think is hard for everyone. I had to put my own feelings aside for the good of my husband. Doing so will ultimately be good for me too and our marriage, but it is so hard to do.

Now, we are almost done with our home sale in KC and we have to get busy finding a home here.

Big Loss

On October 10, I received a Facebook message that my grandpa had a stroke and was not expected to make it. The info was sketchy at best, but I was told he would be leaving the hospital on hospice. 

I have shared in my blog some of my past with this grandpa. I do have a set of living grandparents on my dads side. This was my moms dad.

There was an immediate mixed bag emotions. I wanted, needed, to see him. However, as I mentioned, the entire ordeal was sketchy. 

The person who contacted me referred to him as Carl and not my grandpa. Then, there was a lack of detail. Finally, it was made clear to me that I could not see him.

I cried and paced and couldn't sleep. At 5 am the next morning, I got a call from my brother. He was copied on the original message and I think he knew my desire to say goodbye. Although I have no idea and I'll get to why.

My husband was barely awake and I sat bawling on the side of the bed. I was conflicted. I had forgiven this man, but did I really want to see him? My husband told me to get dressed and he would take me. See, I was given this really small window of time and I had a short time to get there. Something I didn't understand at the time. 

We hopped in the car and arrived at the hospital at about 9:30. My heart pounding, I walked into his room. No family was there. Just this feeble, small man who was propped up with a pillow. He groaned and rubbed his unshaven face. His eyes were closed and I had no idea if he was aware I was there. 

I reached down and grabbed his hand. I held it tight with nothing in return. Soon, a lady came in wanting me to sign his dismissal papers. Uh, no! A nurse came in and asked if I was family. I said that I was his oldest grandchild. I lost all track of the nurse at that point.

Once my grandpa heard my voice, he grabbed my hand tight. He held it and leaned toward me. I rubbed his bald head and told him how sorry I was that he ended up like this. I looked down at him and all I felt was love. A giant, overwhelming love. After a little while longer, I told him goodbye and walked out. 

We drove around places we knew, cemeteries and spent the whole day kind of saying goodbye once again to our home towns. We had lunch with Kents dad and headed home. 

And here's where it gets really strange...

We both made several observations at the hospital. First of all, there was no hint of family or that anyone had been sitting with him. So sad. Second, he showed no signs of a stroke or that his vitals were bad, which I had been told. He had full range movement in all his limbs and no visual sign of drooping. His vitals were good. He would not open his eyes, but that could have been meds or a possible disconnect between brain and body. Third, he did not look like a man who was on deaths door. He could have been dying, yes, but he showed a lot of life. 

I later found out that there was a list of people not allowed in the room. I was on it as was his wife, but I snuck in evidently. It became clear that this was possibly being kept from other family members. On the way home, I contacted my aunt in Minnesota and my former aunt in Kansas (the mother of my cousins). They knew nothing. Strange, again, yes. 

My brother shared info with me for two days. He said my grandpa was eating, drinking and speaking. Then, the texts stopped. I know my family. I was concerned. My grandpa is wealthy and the info I was getting relayed from other people was bad. 

Over the past few years, my mom and her brother have been stealing from my grandpa. They've changed wills and legal info. Completely illegal as this man has had dementia for at least five years and is not of sound mind. Crazy stuff like my grandpas wife was afraid of my uncle and not allowed to see her own husband. That my mom and her brother were trying to get them divorced before he died. Crazy, crazy! Completely believable from people so wrapped in sin.

I had to know someone was taking care of this man. I was afraid he was checked out of the hospital to die a miserable death. I finally got some advice from a friend and called the local authorities for a welfare check and hospice confirmation. After a few hours, the cop called back to confirm that hospice is checking on him daily and he looked well. Although, he understood my concern. For what that was worth. I was content with that, but angry with my family. 

On Thursday the following week, I got a call from my aunt in Minnesota letting me know he had passed away. His death is a mystery to all of us not there. We haven't been allowed to know. 

Within a day or so, I received another call from my aunt. She had been left out of the obituary. Also, he was cremated and there would be a private funeral for family. None of us were given the details of that funeral. We were told no funeral.

By the way, my brother never has contacted me to let me know my grandpa passed away. I still do not understand this. In all that I had going on in life, I am not sure why anyone would choose now to mess with me emotionally. 

There's so much I could say about the detail of all this and my absolutely horrid family. It's just not worth it.

What I do want to do is remember the man I said goodbye to two weeks ago. 

I was the first grandchild. I have pictures where everyone looks happy, smiling. It was a simple time before things got complicated. 

There were good times, good memories. My grandpa used to grab me as a little girl at the end of the day and rub my cheek with his whiskers. I loved it and rubbing my hands on his face. He used to walk me through the strawberry patch and let me eat handfuls, even though I was mildly allergic to them. 

When I was a year old, my grandpa had a terrible accident. A piece of wood broke on his lathe and went into his eye. He lost his eye. During that time, he could not eat solid foods. My grandma would blend his food and mine too. I never ate store bought baby food. Mine was all homemade. 

Through the years, he was the financial support for my grandma. She was the one who let me live with them twice and paid for our wedding. 

I had not seen my grandpa in many years. It was too hard to see him and not be around the rest of my family. A lot of the last several years, he wouldn't have known who I was. He also remarried soon after my grandma died 19 years ago. His new wife was a lovely person, but the changes she made to his life were too much to process.

This entire ordeal will remain a mystery to me, although I believe it has to do with greed and money. It has cemented in me that I am better off away from these people.

I have no idea what my grandpas belief system was when he passed away. I hope he was a christian, but I have no clue. 

Big Trips, Big Loss, Big Changes

So much has happened since my last post. Literally, life changed within a couple days of when I wrote. I want to write about each one.

Big trips, we took a trip to Yellowstone. I'll get to that today. Big loss, my grandpa. Big changes, moving again.

I'll get to the big change that led to the big trip later. However, we were certain that once my husband gave his notice, they would not allow him to take his last week of vacation or pay him for it. With that in mind and his approaching termination notice, we decided to take a vacation. It wasn't really planned. It was last minute.

We went back and forth.

Should we head to the beach? The closest was Galveston. We've been there so much, plus we weren't thrilled with traveling through hurricane ravaged Houston to get there. We also enjoy Florida so much more because the beaches are nicer.

Should we head to the mountains again? We are always up for mountains, but just went in April. It wasn't off the table.

We decided going east wasn't an option since we were getting ready to move east.

What we wanted was to go somewhere new. It's the explorer in us.

With very little planning, we packed up all four dogs and headed to Yellowstone.

We started with a short trip to Omaha/Iowa. We left after work on a Friday so we could have the house on the market with no scheduling issues. It was a nice hotel in a very weird area of industry.

Next was a full day of driving to Rapid City, SD. We checked into our hotel, which to our surprise was attached to a water park. Never again! We had been to Mount Rushmore and were certain that not much had changed. However, a trip to the website we found that they were open at night and had a lighting and closing ceremony.

After a little rest, we headed out to Rushmore. We got there just in time to see the lighting ceremony. There was a giant video playing. Then, they honored those who served and retired the flag. It was the last time for the season to retire the flag. The ceremony was absolutely moving. Given the political and social climate, it was humbling to see everyone honoring our flag, anthem and soldiers. I cried. Sobbed like a baby. Then they flipped the lights on Rushmore. It was beautiful. It isn't well lit, but you see all you need.

When we were done, we headed to a firefighter themed restaurant and the food was great.

The next day, we headed to Cody, WY. We started seeing animals. Elk, deer and a ton of antelope. We took a route through the mountains. It snowed and was amazing. Finally, right at dusk, we got to our cabin. It was truly a cabin at the base of a mountain. It snowed a couple inches that night and was like a winter wonderland the next morning. The dogs were not impressed with the snow or 25 degrees since we had left nearly 90 degree temps.

From there, we drove to the north entrance to Yellowstone in Montana. I am so glad we did. Again, snow, mountains, animals and beauty.

Our first stop in the park was a basin of geysers. It was so cool and so stinky. The sulfur smell was terrible. Probably the best part, our phones had no service and it we could truly enjoy our time. Our first day also included watching Old Faithful and a ton of animals. The best was a black bear that was only about 10 feet away. I got some amazing pics. At one point, Remi went nuts over the bear and the bear looked right at me. I got right back in the car.

We got to the west entrance and stayed all night in a complete dive in West Yellowstone, MT. It was so cold and spit snow a lot. That morning, we had fun chasing Remi who escaped and decided to run free in 20 degrees. We had the best breakfast at a little diner in town and headed back to the park.

We drove through the rest of the park, including heading back to Old Faithful. Some of the park was closed for the season and another part was closed for construction. We didn't feel slighted at all. The park wasn't busy and we didn't feel rushed or stuck in traffic.

Our second day, we saw more wildlife including a grizzly bear. It was huge and about 50 yards from the road. There were about a dozen park rangers making sure nobody got any closer to it. We saw so many animals. Bears, elk, deer, antelope, prairie dogs, chipmunks, moose, birds, rabbits, quail, pheasants, and I am sure more I have forgotten to list.

We left through the south entrance and traveled along the Grand Tetons. They were absolutely beautiful and kissed with fresh snow. That is where we saw the Moose. They were huge. There is no  mistaking them for any other animal.

We drove to the southeast corner of Wyoming and stayed all night. The next day, we drove through Estes Park for fun. It was packed full of people and there were no places to stay. We ended up in Colorado Springs for three days to relax from our long drive. We were at 3500 miles by then and tired. Colorado Springs was beautiful. We ate good food and enjoyed the mountains. We even took a drive over to Cripple Creek.

Our trip home was uneventful. We stayed in central Kansas for the night and was home by lunch on Sunday.

It was the longest trip we've ever taken and probably the most beautiful. We had a great time, laughing. We did have the stress of handling house contracts, work contracts, planning our move, et. But it was worth every second.

Settled, for a moment...

We have chosen to continue attending church at the Valley Campus, the satellite campus of First Baptist Blue Springs or First as they are calling themselves.

There were a couple places we could have settled on, but felt the proximity to our home and getting to know people in our community was ultimately an important factor that we could not ignore.

A couple things about this...

I say settled for the moment, because we honestly don't know for how long. My husband is interviewing all over the US for jobs and we are perfectly content to move again. So, this maybe a temporary church home or one a bit more long term. We just aren't sure at the moment. Either way, we feel it is where we are to be at this time.

Finding a church has found different this time. When we chose a church on two other occasions, there was an excitement that came with it. A natural excitement for what was to come and the potential. This time, it feels more like a "yea we are here, preach to me so I can go home." That isn't a reflection of the church, but of me and my heart.

I have really had to admit that the time at our church in Ohio really broke me. Between that and this last move/Kent's job, I have had to admit that my faith has slipped away. Slowly. I didn't really know it. I think I knew if I said I believed God had a plan confidently that I would convince everyone my faith was strong, even me. It worked. I did.

The truth is that it's been slipping away for over a year. I was confident this time last year that I had a strong faith and followed God as faithfully as I could. But, everything started to unravel. My husband was hurting. We fell away from church. We became isolated from friends and family. At each one of those things, I can see how we distanced ourselves from God as well.

I haven't really wanted God. Sure, I pray. But, only for things that I want and need. It's no longer a relationship like I had through most of our time in Ohio. I haven't opened my bible since July 2016. I haven't been brought to my knees in praise or need since June 2016. I haven't desired to truly be around other believers since April 2016.

Fraud. That's what I have felt like for over a year. When people ask me to pray or I know someone is hurting, sure I pray. But, I don't give it all of me like I once did. When someone comes to me for advice, I hate hearing that I am wise or...ugh...godly. I am NOT! I am wicked and sinful and running.

Only since we have been attending these group of campuses have I started to own up to where my faith is currently. It's the worship, preaching and people. It is preachers saying "I know" and looking right at you as if they know exactly what is in your heart.

We have begun discussing getting into a small group. I know we need it. We need bible study and fellowship. But, my broken heart is fearful. Our small group experience in Ohio is part of where my break in faith started. It is definitely where my hurt with the church started all over again. As I am emailing the campus pastor about it, I am in tears. Honestly, like a child fearful of crossing the road. Please, take my hand and walk with me. That's the message on my heart, what I want to cry out. There is no part of church that scares me more.

We also are dragging our feet on membership and serving. We both have such a rough time with the membership part right now. It has been our experience that in bigger churches, you join and then get lost in the crowd. Not that we are attention seeking. It's just a raw hurt for us. We also want to make sure they want us as much as we want them. Our Ohio church didn't want us.

Serving is an area that is usually exciting for me. Again, I go back to how our Ohio church broke me down. My second most fearful thing about church right now, serving. I just can't get there. It's in my heart, I want to. But I can't. First church, bad experiences in serving mixed with some really good ones. It's why I know serving is good and right. Second church, so big couldn't serve. Third church, totally bad, horrible experiences in serving. Fourth/second church again, even bigger and harder to find a place to serve. Bad track record.

Don't get me wrong, I am excited we have found a church. The search is exhausting. I know the preaching and worship in this church is uncovering my heart, the places that I like to hide. It is working on my walk and faith. It is good. It will be good for as long as we are there. It won't always be easy, but it will be good. I know it won't be perfect, but as long as it always points me to Christ...it will be GOOD!

3:30 am Reality Check

I don't usually discuss my dreams here. They are typically weird or nightmares. They aren't usually worthy of discussion. The one I had tonight speaks to where I am at emotionally and mentally right now.

While reading this, I think it's important to remember where I came from. Parents and many others planted the message deep inside me that I am of no value. Over and over, I heard how worthless and unloved I was. Believable when your parents show zero affection or love at all, not a hint of caring at all. A difficult message to erase, nearly impossible. One that lies beneath the surface, waiting to sneak back into daily thinking regardless of how hard you've worked to wash it away. I have worked hard for ten years to defeat that message and yet, it lingers.

Now, just a brief reminder of how I spent 2 1/2 years while living in Ohio. I was not well received and very disliked. I was an outsider. No matter how hard I tried, I didn't fit in. Very few were kind and even those eventually turned on me. I only have contact with one person since leaving. During that time, most of my relationships back home fell apart. The distance was too great. I spent most of that 2 1/2 years being very lonely. Part of me knew that it was the nature of where I lived. Probably the majority of me took it very personally and wondered what was wrong with me. I wrote about it at the time.

Circling back to my dream...

I had a goal, something I was trying to accomplish. I couldn't get help. People shared notes and verbal expressions of disgust. They did not help because they didn't like me. Their disgust was with me, the person I am. I was not good enough, not worthy of them or their time. Every person, familiar and unfamiliar. I was not of value. Before waking up, I had two people standing in front of me, my husband and my mom. My husband said his life would have been better without me. My mom said she told I would be better off dead.

I woke up honestly questioning if this is true. I haven't had a lot of messages to counter those in a few years. Before we moved, I had a happy life. Sure, there were issues I had to work through, but I had friends, lots of them. I felt loved. I had a semi average relationship with my youngest brother. I had two best friends, one of two years and one of 15 years. I was rarely alone, in fact, almost never. It had taken a few years to get there, but I had a full life the last few years we were in KC.

I don't have any of that now. It's all gone. Disappeared. I have one person who sends a bible verse daily. I have another person who texts most days. She doesn't get too deep unless it's about her and even she's told me that she hates me at times. There are a couple women I've done things with on occasion, but even those relationships have dissipated. There has been promises of girls nights and trips. There have been many "we should ...." But, it doesn't happen. If I remove the one person I actually do see on occasion, I would say in a years time I have only had a total of 10-12 social interactions with people.

My only other human contact is with my husband. An average person who goes through a major loss, major job change, major move or a huge amount of stress will often go through a period of not being like themselves. My husband has gone through all of those things in the past year or so. He has not been himself. Like any spouse, I am the safe place to take his anger, frustration and high emotions. He really has not been himself since we moved to Ohio. I have taken a lot of his stress in verbal form. I know it's not because he doesn't love me. He does.

It is hard when the only person you have constant contact with tears you down instead of builds you up. I know the constant complaining, lack of compliments, picking at my flaws and harsh words are more about him than me. But, there is only so much anyone can take. When your emotional bank account is drained, it's even harder. I literally have nothing in my life that puts anything back from what's been depleted.

A few years running on an empty tank has allowed those old messages to creep back in to my daily thinking. It makes sense. I have nothing to counter them. In fact, most of my life right now feeds them. Most days I am alone. Thoughts creep into my head. Real thoughts that have come from real life. Daily, they are there.

Maybe I am abnormal. When I text repeatedly over months and get no response or told a friend is too busy, I am accepting of that. I know that people are busy. But then, I go on social media and see how they are off having a great time with this friend or that. Over and over, I see it happen and with multiple people. It's hard. I begin to question what is wrong with me. Am I too needy? I try not to be. Am I a terrible person, like my husband says? I didn't think so, I thought that was his personal frustration. Am I unloving or uncaring? I never thought so, I try to check in on people going through things. Am I unlovable or unworthy, like my parents said? Yes. That is where I end up. That is the one I can't counter. That must be it.

Now don't think I sit in a pity party. I don't. I go on about my days and this is really the only place I ever put my thoughts about it into words. Only on rare occasion do I ever say anything about it to my husband. The past messages that were real and a few years of difficulty in relationships, I am sure you can see why I would spiral into that line of thinking.

I end up with two thoughts. I must accept that this is my reality and it may continue to be for the rest of my life. My desire to have people in my life was something that came after becoming a Christian. Maybe it was something God wanted for a time, but is obviously not the plan for always. I thought the bible was clear that we were meant to be with other people, but maybe that isn't the case. Maybe I was meant to live a very isolated life with little social interaction.

The other thought is the one that breaks my heart. I don't know how to be anything but myself. Outside of hiding my history with abuse, I have always been a "what you see is what you get" kind of person. I don't pretend to be something I'm not. If I love you, I genuinely do my best to show you. I feel things very deeply and take relationships very seriously.

My family, my husband, maybe they are right. I am a terrible, unlovable person. I obviously have a personality that repels people. Maybe not at first, but everyone eventually leaves. My longest friendship was 17 years and that one is over. I rarely have any relationships that last longer than 2 years and usually don't last longer than 1 year. The people I was close to four years ago aren't in my life now. Friends I had 10 years ago, I have no contact with now. I am the common denominator. It is logical to believe that I am exactly what they say I am. I am worthless to this world.

Valley Campus with a Twist

We decided last week to give the Valley Campus behind our house another chance. I am thankful we did.

The experience was completely different. Everyone was friendly and welcoming.

When we walked in the door, the campus pastor talked to my husband while a little older lady talked to me. I'll circle back to both of these people later as they touched my heart this week.

The music was good, like last time. The preaching was different. It was a live feed from the Blue Springs campus and the pastor there. That was fine with us as we did enjoy his preaching. We were a little put off that he had only preached 20 minutes one time, but this week was over 40 minutes. He is a solid preacher and gives some great call to action items.

As we left, someone from a previous church stopped to talk with me. It was nice to see a familiar face and she was absolutely kind.

I headed on out the door and the little older lady touched my arm. I looked at her and she said, "You have a great week sweetheart." I know, it's a small thing. But my raw, hurting heart needed that kind of gentle kindness in that moment. We were still grieving losing our little dog. We felt raw. We weren't crying or anything, but the pain was still real for us.

On Monday while he was talking to me during his drive home, Kent had another call to take. He doesn't miss too many calls since he's looking for a job. About 20 minutes later, he called me back. The campus pastor had called him. Keep in mind, we had met this man a total of three times. We met him twice about a month ago and then during our visit this past week.

He told Kent that we seemed down and he wanted to check on us. He asked if there was anything that he could be praying for us. Kent explained that we don't have children and how we had put one of our dogs down. He said the pastor handled the situation with great compassion and understanding. Then they talked about the church and had a great conversation.

Let me share some perspective. We've been gone from our home church for a few months. Except for a short email from the pastor, we've not had one person reach out to us. They have two services that are very full. Chances are, nobody has missed us. During our loss of Lucy, nobody from church bothered to reach out to us. I mean if you know us at all, you know how much we could have used some encouragement during that.

This pastor who has talked to us for maybe five minutes total and shook our hands, well, he called. He noticed a slight change in us. He went to a lot of trouble to find a phone number for us. He called at a time when Kent wouldn't be at work. He showed genuine concern for us. We aren't members. We are visitors. We have been to his campus two times and the main campus three times. We had not seen him in a month.

I was impressed. Impressed by his genuine care and concern. This is the kind of pastor we desire, the kind of church where we want to be. This was the kind of care that our very first pastor told us we should find in every church.

Right now, I don't know where we are going to end up. Literally. I don't know if Missouri is meant to be our home long term. Once we figure that out, we will probably get serious about finding a church home. The Valley Campus could be it for us.

First Bible Baptist ADP

I am a little behind on church posts. August has been a bit of a blur with a variety of things going on for us. 

We visited the First Bible Baptist ADP church in Blue Springs. This church is about 10 minutes from our house and very convenient. We visited twice, two weeks in a row. 

Everyone was friendly when we walked in the door. Very vibrant older gentlemen and couple ladies greeted us. One handed us a brochure and asked us to fill out the info. The brochure also included a gift card for a local coffee shop.

They did not have a bulletin. I found this a little unfortunate because their website needs some work. It is a bit outdated. The music was good, very up to date.

The first time we visited started with a building update. It was enlightening. Let me tell you a little bit about this church first. They have a huge sports ministry. They own ball fields behind the church and they have various sports leagues going all year long. The pastor and associate pastor are both form Baltimore Orioles. The sports thing makes more sense when you know that. However, I can see how they can minister to a whole bunch of people in the community by having this as a part of the church.

Their building updated included specifics on their plans to change their foyer into a coffee bar and relaxed meeting place with patio. They are spot on in having a comfortable place for meetings or groups to gather. Very modernized, I believe. 

After the update, the pastor did a shortened sermon that we both enjoyed. Our second time there was a similar experience with friendly people. The youth pastor preached and he was ok. A bit too much singing in his sermon, but eh, it was ok. 

Their website does talk about beliefs and gives us a good idea who they are. They also don't shy away from truth. It was definitely a church we could see ourselves be a part of in the future. 

I Love Lucy

It has taken me a solid week to write this post. A week to talk about my little dog without becoming a crying mess.

Let me start back at the beginning. Our little cockapoo, actually the largest and oldest of our dogs, had a dry hacking cough for a few years. It started way before we moved to Ohio and progressively got worse. No vet that we took her to could really pinpoint the problem. We just knew that after she laid down, she hacked.

Two vets in Ohio diagnosed her with a kidney disease that was to be fatal within months. Two years later, she was still very much alive and she still had the hack. After moving back to KC, we took her to our original vets office and she had an ear infection. Nothing on the hack still. Keep in mind, it wasn't our previous vet, just his office.

We then took her to a recommended vet near our house. That vet ran a battery of tests and told me she suspected Cushings, but her kidneys were perfectly fine. Additional expensive tests showed no proof of Cushings. I was told she was perfectly healthy. That was in February. I took her home, still with her hack that was getting worse and still feeling as though I had no answers.

In April, we left her with a terrible dog sitter who left her kenneled for 16-20 hours per day. When we came home, she had lost control of her bowels. Evidently a dramatic change in habits, like kenneling for lengthy periods, will cause a dog to have severe bowel distress. She couldn't hold her poop in and she was pooping everywhere without any control.

I took her to the vet closest to our house. They also ran a long list of tests, but included a series of X-rays. No vet had ever done an X-ray. The X-rays showed what they suspected. Her bowel was inflamed and about four times its normal size. She would need several days of IV meds to get rid of the inflammation and get her back to normal. It was a costly fix to the neglect she had suffered.

The tests showed several other things that had not previously been caught. She had an under active thyroid. She also had arthritis in her back and back legs. Since we weren't there for the hacking, I hadn't mentioned it. The vet did ask me if she had that problem. She then showed me on the X-ray that my little dog had an enlarged heart.

Her little heart was about 1/2 the size bigger than it should be. The vet said she should be just fine on a new heart med. So we left with three new meds after her hospital stay. Within a week, there was no improvement. I took her back and the vet added a medication and increased another. A week later, still no improvement. I took her back and they increased two medications and sent us on our way. Two weeks later, we saw improvement.

Over the next 3 1/2 months, we would see our portly little dog become skin and bones. The vet insisted the meds were doing their job and she would live for years longer as long as we kept her on the meds. The meds at this point were nine per day and running us close to $300 per month. I was going in every other week to pick up more meds. She had her own pill box so we never forgot a pill.

About three weeks ago, I noticed that she was not herself. She would sleep most of the day or at least lay nearly lifeless watching the other dogs. She would exert herself in the mornings and when my husband came home. I started asking questions about the amount of meds she was on and found that she was on a larger than human dose of lasix. Things weren't adding up. Our dog had acted like a puppy just two weeks early and could barely move now.

I took her to the vet on Monday. They again did a long list of expensive tests. They gave a steroid shot against my wishes and diagnosed her with chronic bronchitis. They said she was doing great and sent us on our way with another new med and four additional pills per day.

She wasn't ok. Her lungs were filling and she was unable to keep infection from settling into them. She had lost nearly 10 lbs in 4 months and she had gotten down to barely eating a handful of food each day.

After I took her home from the vet that day, I watched for the next two days with the looming reality that I knew my girl and could see in her eyes that the end was approaching. I am not claiming to be smarter than the vet, but I knew my girl better than they did.

By Thursday, it was clear that she had given us everything she had left in her. She was tired, done with the struggle to breathe.

I took her to her original vet on Friday morning. I gave him a detailed history like I have here and her medication doses. He examined her and gave me his opinion. He said she had been overdosed for way too long on lasix and her organs were shutting down. She had lost an additional lb in four days and her belly had become swollen. She was retaining fluid in her belly and nothing was working as it should. She was not ok. He said she was about to have a bunch of bad days with one really bad day for us all. The end was near.

She was calm, tired. I was crushed. I hated making the decision to put her down, but knew that I had done everything I could and she was in pain. I loved her so much that I had to give her that final gift.

It was the worst heartache I have felt in a few years. My heart felt ripped away, damaged and handed back to me to try to move forward.

She was our first little dog. My husband called her Pickle. We had gotten her January of 2007 and she was 10 years, 8 months and 1 day old. She had been with us through some rocky times and great times. She was the first dog we traveled with on a regular basis. She had spent time in Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Oklahoma, Colorado, Arkansas, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Florida, Alabama and probably a few I have missed. She made the move to Ohio behind the seat of my husbands truck and made it back with us last fall.

She loved fruits and veggies, often climbing onto chairs and table to get what she wanted. She was my nemesis with the garden and stole as many tomatoes as she could. She never missed a doorbell ring and her favorite time of day was when Kent came home.

She never had puppies. In fact, she only had a partial uterus that was found when we had her spayed. Every dog we had was her puppy. She loved them, but was mother hen with them. She tattled and snapped at them when they misbehaved. Before our small dogs, we had a Black Lab. Soffee was Lucys momma. She did the same thing with the tattling. I hope if dogs go to heaven that they have reunited and are waiting on us.

We had her cremated and I picked her up earlier this week. It's a tiny hand carved box and I've put her collar around it. I wanted her back with us. We don't have a place to bury her and I would rather she be buried someday with one of us. She is in the closet next to Soffee.

Lucy was like one of our children. On her last morning, I picked her up and laid her in bed with me. She snuggled close to my chest. I listened to her sometimes labored breathing and erratic heartbeat. I held her in much the same way the first night we brought her home.

It is a grieving process. Part of our family is gone. We are no longer complete. There's not a day I don't miss her. The crying fits are slowing down. We are slowly getting back into a routine, a different routine. But the emotion is still there.

I am angry with the vet. They never cared about her or me for that matter. They wanted money. And they got a lot of it from a dog who was going to die. I am angry that I had to make the choice to end her life. I am heartbroken that she is gone. I miss her bark, her big floppy ears and her precious little face.

I hope she knew how much she was loved. I hope she knows now. She is missed and will be for a long time to come. Nothing can ever take her place.

Church Search

We haven't visited anywhere new, but have made some observations. 

Two Sundays ago, we stayed home. I had been dog sitting and having some very rough nights. I didn't feel well and my husband let me sleep. I slept until 11 am that day. Of course, I only slept 5 am till 11 am, but it was great.

This past Sunday, we woke up a little late and decided to head back to First Baptist Blue Springs. 

I am glad we visited another time. I think we both were feeling like this could be our home church. There had been some fluky things that we wanted to check out again before giving up on the search and settling. So glad we did.

One of our concerns was sermon length. We have been in churches where the sermon length is either too long or the service length is too long. That wasn't the concern here. The service was about 75 minutes and was ok for us. 

What was a concern for us was the actual sermon length being too long. It seems like in a 75-90 minute service, the sermon should be no less than 1/3 to 1/2 of that. If not, it doesn't seem like a sermon, but a short devotional. We were right, the pastor only preaches for 20 minutes. During this time, there is at least two prayers and one or more videos. That doesn't leave too long for an actual sermon. 

The problem with a short sermon is that you don't really feel like you leave with much of anything. In this case, the music isn't enough to offset the difference. 

Don't get me wrong, I think this church is probably excellent for people who get deeply involved in all the ministries they have to offer. But, for someone who only attends on Sunday mornings, I'm not sure there's enough substance in the sermon. 

So, the search continues...

Content vs. God's Will

The last few weeks, I have prayed and searched for the reason why I am not content here. I should be. KC is my home. It was for 16 years and I spent 2 full years ready to come back to it.

But, it hasn't been home sweet home.

I tried. The first few months were surreal and I couldn't believe we were home. The first two months were filled with spending time with friends and family. It was great. We were home. But, it quickly dwindled to nothing. Weeks and months went by without even hearing from family and friends. Phone calls and text messages weren't returned. It felt a lot like being back in Ohio.

These past few weeks, I've had to really look at myself. Is it me? Am I just an unhappy person? Maybe if you read my blog, you'd say yes. But, in general, no. I am a happy person most of the time.

We have no idea what's going to happen with Kent's employment. We don't know where we are going to land.

That's a big thing. Because I have a little more info than I'm willing to share right now, I think I know why this transition hasn't gone well.

I don't think God wants us to be comfortable here. I don't think He has been willing to allow us to feel rooted and for good reason. I think He wants us ready to go again if that's His plan.

That's a pretty big thing to understand. I am not having an easy time because He has plans for me that I do not yet know. I've been trying to let that sink in.

Here's the other thing. He has allowed me to feel pain and disconnect here so that I would not put a place or thing or people above Him. He wants me to find contentedness in Him and His plan for my life and not in a place.

I know this! But, it's taken me quite a few months to realize that I was trying to make a place my everything. I put so much weight on this being home. I put my faith in people. I had let me skewed idea of happiness become the most important thing in my life.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think God wants us to be pained. But, I do think He allows us to push ourselves into painful situations when it'll turn us back to Him.

I am doing my best to transition my heart fully from the complaining and hurting for what this move hasn't been to being excited for where God will lead us next. That may or may not be an actual move. I know, it will at the very least be major life changes for us.

First Baptist Blue Springs

I am sort of a week behind, but not really. We visited the same church two days in a row.

Let me cover our first visit. This is the primary church for the campus we visited previously. All members were to attend the primary campus two weeks ago. As I walked in, I wanted to do two things. I wanted to see this church for itself, but I also wanted to see what their true relationship was to the other campus. Was it an integral part or was it an out of sight, out of mind sort of thing. 

My first impression of this church wasn't great. I hate that too. They have attendants and greeters everywhere. We passed at least 20 before finding a seat. Not one person said hello or welcomed us. In fact, I had to go up to the lady handing out bulletins and take one. I was really bummed. Why is this the norm in our churches today? 

Beyond our first impression, we kind of loved the church. The music was great and so was the preaching. The preacher did do one thing that annoys me with any preacher. He talked about himself/family/situation without giving details, as if anyone new would have a clue what he's talking about. There was a lot going on that day, so we also felt like he rushed and cut off his sermon a bit abruptly. That's not to say he wasn't good, he was.

While I am laying out the things that are bothersome, but not deal breakers, let me cover two areas. For the love of God, the music in a church does not need to be produced like a professional concert. The lights and fog are NOT needed. In fact, I am sensitive to flashing or moving lights. The fog triggers my sinus and allergy problems. It's actually a hinderance to worship. The other thing I find a little off-putting is the bulletin. There's really not much info on this tiny sheet. We've gotten three of them now and this church relies far too much on website traffic. I don't need a book, but I do need a little more info and not so small that I have to find my glasses to read it.

Ok, now onto the more positive stuff.

While my first impression of the church wasn't great, I did quickly get the answer to my other question. This church loves it's Valley Campus. They incorporated people from the other campus into their worship team for the day. The pastor also had everyone in attendance during that service go to the front and prayed over them. It was great. You could tell how much love and respect there is between the two campuses.

Also, the two pastors who spoke to us at the Valley Campus made a point to come welcome us at the main church. That made an impression on both of us. We were excited that someone actually spoke to us, but also remembered us from the previous week. 

Maybe the first week was a fluke because it was a holiday weekend. I'm not sure, but our second week was incredibly different. The second week, everyone spoke to us or shook our hands. One man even walked and talked us clear to our seats. It was completely different. Again, one of the Valley Campus pastors came up and spoke to us.

We hadn't originally planned to attend two weeks in a row, but it just happened to work out that way. Again, the music and preaching was superb. It was great to see some consistency in that.

This church is only about 10-15 minutes from our house. We plan to go back to the Valley Campus and check it out again. I think either one of these churches would be a good place to worship. A much shorter distance to the main campus makes this church very appealing to us. It wouldn't be as hard to attend bible study or special events. 

Church People and Tootsie Pops

How many licks does it take to get to the center of Tootsie Pop?

How many years do you have to go to church with someone before they don't treat you like a stranger?

Ya know, I don't have the answer to either one of those questions. But, I'm pretty sure the first would be easier to figure out.

Let me share a couple experiences I had this past weekend. I should also say that these aren't the only two, but probably the two closest together.

Saturday, we were at a bbq with friends. With the exception, of two families, we have gone to church with all of these people for many, many years. Some of them, 10 years minus the 2 we were in Ohio.

We had a man come up to us and start talking. This wasn't a big deal, we knew him. We had been in small group with him, spent many of these 4th of July picnics with him, been to his house for dinner and my brother in law had worked with him at one time.

The problem, he didn't know who we were. He didn't just forget our names, he didn't remember anything about us. He said he felt like he should know us, but didn't.

On Sunday, we ran into a family we went to church with for six years. My husband worked in the sound booth with the husband and I helped the wife each year during vbs in some way or another. They didn't recognize us or engage in any conversation at all.

I'm not exaggerating when I say this often happens to us.

I suppose I am humbled each time when I figure out once again my insignificance.

Why is it that church people are like this more than anyone else?

I have run into former coworkers from a job I held for a month nearly 20 years ago and people recognize me. There are people who have worked for me or with me for short times and will stop me in a crowd. The girl who went to school with me in 6-8 grade will stop me a convenience store. So, how is it that people I "do life" with for years don't recognize or acknowledge me when they sit down right in front of me?

Could it be that people in church are caught up in their own self so much that they don't see people around them?

I'm going to say it and know it won't be a popular opinion. Is it possible that church people are some of the least caring/loving people out there?

Honestly, I am kind of kicking myself. If I could go back to my first church and the few people who told me it wasn't just that church, I'd probably apologize for not believing them. They were right. It isn't just that church. It's permeated every church everywhere.

I'm also going to offer another unpopular opinion that many will disagree with, but I know to be true from experience.

Churches cultivate strong, lifelong relationships for many people. What the church does not cultivate very well are relationships between lifelong members and those who are different. By different, I mean people who come to know Christ as an adult or those who do not have children. I fit both. I know they don't foster relationships for either of those groups. I have seen it for us and for others like us.

I will say that this has taken a toll on my fragile relationship with church. It isn't that I want significance at all. But, if I share a meal with someone multiple times, I would hope they would remember something about me.

All of this makes starting over again look even more appealing. I don't mean in finding a church, but moving to another state.

Nothing Else Matters

"His desire is for us to cling to him. There will come a time when nothing else matters, but God."

That was something I picked up from the sermon at the church we visited this week. This and the entire sermon on Jacob spoke to my heart. There were two different directions this tugged at my heart.

I typically don't have a lot of self esteem issues and I'm not sure that's what I have going on now. Lately, I have just felt too broken, too dirty, too much. Not for anything or anyone in particular, but just in general.

That's not a big revelation or confession of guilt or some huge sin in my life. Believe me, I lead a rather dull life these days. I think it is probably more of realization that there's a growing distance between God and myself. Possibly because of my very real discontent with church. Possibly it's my world experience bleeding over into my view of God.

I have spent a solid three years feeling very disconnected from church and people. Even now, I don't feel like I have a lot of friends or even human contact. I have made efforts to change that, but it doesn't seem to work. I told myself in Ohio, that it was the people. Here, I am having a harder time not taking it personally.

In fact, I'd say I am taking it very personally. There's probably not a week that goes by that I don't think that maybe I'm too this or that for people to want to be around me. I have spent hours and days wondering what I could do to make myself more attractive to people.

Now, I do think this has led to me feeling like I'm unattractive to God. If people don't want to be around me, then he probably doesn't either. It's been an ongoing battle between heart and mind for months now.

I woke up last week with Natalie Grant's song Clean in my head. This is song I haven't liked much. But, it really does touch on exactly how I have been feeling. It's a process. My heart and mind will eventually get on the same page, but it's a slow process.

This sermon was a reminder of exactly what the song says. The way I see me, the way others see me, that's not the way God sees me. What I've done, my sin, none of it matters. He makes me clean if I cling to him.

The other part of this for me has to do with my family. When we moved back, we had a strong connection with my brother and his family. After Thanksgiving, we lost it. I have no idea why. We've gone about seven months without much more than a couple fb messages. It isn't from not trying. We've tried to see them, call and text. We've gotten nothing back.

I won't lie, it's been hard. Super hard. I have felt abandoned all over again. There's no words that can describe that kind of pain.

What I got from yesterday was that I still have God. I sacrificed my family once for God. If they want to abandon me again, that's fine. I still have God. He won't leave me. It doesn't' make it any less painful. But when the tears are dried up, I still have this good thing in my life.

I probably need to write this reminder on something that I look at everyday.