Lord Have Mercy

"I'm trying to be an advocate for everyone."

Those wise words came courtesy a far away friend today.
She then talked about how late in life she's learning it, having spent a great deal of her life being an avid 'us and them-er'.

I've watched and learned from her ability to look at someone with an undesirable quality and comment that perhaps that will be one of their frailties they'll always have. A lifelong thorn in the flesh. Or rather, being a lifelong thorn in the flesh to others because of that besetting behaviour that will probably be with them to the end. She never condones what shouldn't be condoned and she has undending mercy towards their very human ways.

"Mercy triumphs over judgement." James 2:13
I always think of this verse every time I come away from the Sacrament of Reconciliation knowing full well that without God's mercy I'd be sunk.

Ready Or Not

Last night a friend and I put on a bridal shower for my soon to be daughter-in-law. When I signed the card for my gift it was a bit of a shock to see "with love, Mom and Dad W" written in my handwriting. That's how my mother-in-law has signed every card to dearest one and I these past 26 years. I suppose until my dying day I'm going to be faced with more and more situations where I ask myself, half jokingly, "Does this mean I'm old now?" Don't get me wrong. The ageing process itself doesn't particularly bother me. Well, other than having wrinkles, grey hair and pimples at the same time.

For the most part I see growing older as a privilege. From my brother Rodney to my friend Ron and my brother-in-law Abe, there have been too many premature deaths in our lives. People I will never stop wondering how they would be if they had had the privilege of ageing.

Every year that goes by though, I understand my mom and mother-in-law a bit better as they reflect on how their body and the age on their driver's licence doesn't jive with their innards. I think the last time my nearly 80 year old mother-in-law and I talked about it, she still feels 18 inside. My mom was a mother-in-law at age 39, a grandmother at 41. I still remember her saying, as my sister-in-law laboured, that she wasn't old enough to be a grandma yet.

Am I ready to be a mother-in-law? Are we ever ready for any stage of our life? It's probably a blessing that they come to us ready or not. I wonder if it isn't more what we do with the stage we find ourselves in than in readiness to be there.

After the bridal shower was over my friend (who will become a mother-in-law one week before me) and I watched the movie Monster-In-Law, starring Jane Fonda as the MIL. I've written before about my experience with my own mother-in-law and no doubt my soon to be daughter-in-law will have her own story to tell one day.

I might envy Jane Fonda's toned arms and flat belly but I have no aspirations to follow her movie role example as a mother-in-law.
Thanks be to God.

Unwrapping The Day

It's been a beautiful gift of a day.

When I first went back to AA I chose a home group called Gratitude 24/7. At the time I thought people must be faking an attitude of gratitude and what they really needed was a dose of reality. I had no idea I'd been on a dry drunk for most of my sobriety, no idea what recovery looked like and no idea that gratitude was mine for the choosing. A dry drunk is not a rut I rest in very long these days. Most days on my walk I thank God for the ability to be grateful. Naming what I'm grateful for comes easily and that nearly makes me giddy. I realized one day this week as I was walking that what I was feeling was joy. I've spent so many years as a cynic. To find cynicism replaced with joy is pure gift.

None of this is possible on my own steam. I show up, I'm as open, willing and honest as I can be while my Higher Power works. I want God's will to be done in my life more than my own most of the time and when I don't I don't beat myself up for that anymore, either. Accepting my humanity has been so freeing. I can hardly fathom that progress is much more attractive to me these days than perfection. I know when I'm aching for perfection in myself or others that fear is the driving force behind it.

This month I've been chairing the meetings, getting there early to help set up when I can, and staying afterwards to visit. It's a concrete way to give back out of gratitude for someone else having done it before me, for making sure the door was open when I needed it. I used to dislike chairing meetings until my sponsor kidded me one day saying, "What's the matter, you scared of making a mistake?" Dang. She had me pegged just right. I don't take myself so seriously today and there's never a safer place to be human than in an AA meeting.

Today as the promises were being read I wanted to get up and dance. I wonder if I will ever get over the miracle that these promises are coming true in my life. I hope I never take them for granted.

Before I went to the meeting I finished up nearly all my Christmas shopping. That I could do that is a gift in itself. One I don't take for granted. We keep a fairly simple Christmas so the process is painless. That it's even an option is a gift. After my meeting I took oldest son's fiancee out for her birthday. She is a gift in herself. We had a nice lunch in a nice restaurant and a great visit. That taking her out for a meal was an option is a gift, too.

Dearest one chose more patience than not today when I accidentally hung up on him and then looked at my cell phone as it vibrated in my hand and thought, "oh it must do that when it's being turned off." Um, nope. It does that when someone is calling me. Like the person I accidentally hung up on who was done his class early and was stranded without a vehicle. The vehicle I was in when he phoned. And he chose to have more patience than not while in the midst of a wretched nicotine withdrawal fit.

Driving home later dearest one shared his reality in the face of nicotine withdrawal. If you only knew how much I have nagged him these past 25 years about his on and off smoking. How much I took it personally that he smoked. How much energy I've spent being resentful. Then you'd know what a gift it was that today I did none of that. I was more concerned about his quitting smoking cold turkey without a plan to deal with the stressors in his life than I was happy about his quitting. Addiction is addiction is addiction. And we set ourselves up to fail if we have no plan in place, no healthy coping mechanisms to deal with the issues that addiction temporarily relieves. So I was more relieved than not when dearest one stopped and bought a pack of smokes. Quitting will come in its time and accepting that I'm not the one who dictates the timetable is really a miracle.

It's been a beautiful gift of a day.

Star Bright, Star Light

The stars are beautiful all nestled in the inky darkness. Our bed is such that I can lay there and look out at them. I find that comforting. I even saw a falling star tonight.

I was laying there thinking about how life has changed for me since treatment. I find myself continually amazed at the changes within and grateful that change is always possible. Dearest one is doing his own hard work in counseling now too, and we are very slowly learning how to dance a different dance together. One where we get naked while keeping our clothes on. "This is who I really am" we whisper as we slowly let our guard down, revealing our inner pain, frailties, and hope to one another. There's a rawness to the revelation that is gritty yet soft. I can only risk it because I like who I really am, all of me. I have never embodied the word hope like I do these days. Dearest one has never looked so beautiful as he does when he trusts me with who he truly is. For the past 25 years we've spent so much energy hiding our beauty under masks and defending it with weapons. The pain of shedding our defences is worth it.

At one time, this was the time of night when I'd either give a drunkalogue or hear one. Gah. I've given some doozies. The worst one was when I asked a traveling salesman if he cheated on his wife. We'd been married 5 days and dearest one had no idea yet that I had a little alcohol problem. That night I had my one and only blackout. The traveling salesman was probably glad. Wait. A blackout is where I can't remember what happened next. The poor sap wasn't so lucky. Don't worry I didn't ask him that question so that I could sleep with him. I was just being my nosy self. Dearest one just about choked on his drink when he heard me ask the stranger that question. Between that and thinking I talked some kind of fabulous French it was(n't) a night to remember. So I didn't miss much.

I'm still as curious as ever but now I know the difference between what is my business and what isn't. I'm still not comfortable in social situations but I can get through them without embarrassing anyone these days. Social situations and peer pressure are my two biggest triggers for relapse with booze or food. There was this nifty test we did in treatment where based on our answers they could give us an idea of when we were most likely to be tempted to use.

Dearest one and I rarely, if ever, go to a social event where there is alcohol but there is often food. And yesterday was 4 months since I've binged my way through stress or boredom. One day this week I found myself wanting to binge and I made myself sit with the urge and decipher what was behind it. There was an issue I was avoiding. I decided that spending my energy trying not to binge was just as exhausting as avoiding the issue so I picked up the phone and cleared the air with the person I had the issue with and that was that. I sat there and looked at the phone in my hand afterwards thinking, "wow, that wasn't so hard." So that was a baby step in the right direction.

I didn't wish on the falling star tonight.
My 'one day' is now.

Hollowing Out A Space

"...our greatest strength was forged in our worst pain and suffering. It was precisely those "worst times" that hollowed out a space in us that wouldn't have existed otherwise. And this space becomes the haven where others find the compassion, understanding and strength we so badly needed ourselves at one time." ~Earnie Larson in Destination Joy

Dearest one woke me up this morning by placing a snowball in my hand. There were snowy footprints on the deck this morning although we were spared the several inches of white stuff that other areas got overnight. As I look out the window it's nearly all melted now. Soon I will go for a walk and savour the crispness of the air and breathe in the smell of decomposing leaves. I love their earthy smell. They remind me that this journey is temporary.

Thank you for praying. I'm slowly regaining my equilibrium. There is an undercurrent of serenity beneath the pain. Yesterday as I went for my walk I started to name out loud all the reasons I was grateful. After a few moments I burst in tears because the gratitude was genuine and that I could have gratitude in the midst of emotional pain overwhelmed me. I never knew it was possible. Typing that sentence has me in tears all over again. God is doing for me what I could not do for myself. And I'm so very aware and grateful.

My home group in AA is called Gratitude 24/7. When I first went I thought that people who were grateful in the midst of pain were lying. I easily wrote off anyone who smacked of Pollyanna. "Ha. At least I'm realistic," I told myself. And while I still have a hard time liking people who are fake and smiley when everything else about them cries pain, I know my ability to sneer in the face of the genuine gratitude of others is just another version of camouflaged pain. In my all or nothing way of thinking one could either be in emotional pain or be grateful but never the two shall meet. I know now that gratitude is cultivated. It is a perspective one chooses. It doesn't deny reality, it exists in the midst of reality.

As I was walking one day this week I was begging God for the grace to show compassion towards myself. When I'm in the worst places emotionally it hasn't been my pattern to have self compassion. In the midst of my pain and the shame that threatened to overwhelm me I knew that the biggest gift I could give myself was compassion. The old patterns, the inner voices that wanted to accuse and condemn me were competing with the new pattern of loving and forgiving myself for being human. And as I prayed the word mantle popped into my head. It was such a random, strange word that I let it sit in my mouth for a while. As I did the line from a song we used to sing came to me. "His mantle over me is love." How true.

Yesterday I went for a long drive to meet with Fr. Charlie. I've chosen to continue seeing him for counseling/spiritual direction even though he has moved to another parish. As I reflect on today's quote it is Fr. Charlie's own hollowed out place, born out of working through his worst of times, that makes him a safe place of compassion, strength and understanding. It was good to be able to just spill my guts to him, no explanation needed.

On my drive home I returned a call to the sexual abuse counselling centre. As I told the woman my experience of having the rape triggered this past weekend and the battle it's been since to simply get through my days she told me she would bump me up the waiting list. It's now about 2 weeks before I get in to see someone.

It felt good to say I need help and then to reach out for that help. None of us can journey alone. It just isn't meant to be.

Yesterday Fr. Charlie asked me if I was still blogging. I told I was but that it was often such narcissistic crap I didn't know what the point was anymore. Today I know I need a place to say, this is my story. And I know those of you who read here regularly can see patterns, threads and growth that I am blind to. For today I embrace that reality.

You're Still The One

"Like most people on their wedding day, we didn't understand that love is about embracing imperfection."~Rona Maynard, Chatelaine, Feb 2007

I was 19 and dearest one 21 when, twenty five years ago today, we stood before a Justice of the Peace, fumbled our vows (I said "awful wedded husband instead of lawful"), managed not to erupt into giggles and got ourselves hitched. We brought a 75 year old friend along to be our witness, not realizing we needed two. We forgot that we needed rings so my engagement ring was removed from one hand and put on the other. We have no wedding pictures because we forgot our camera. By the grace of God here we are today, not only lovers, but friends. If you click on the title of this post you'll go to a site that has the lyrics of the song we listen to often, especially today.

There's been a lot of living between then and now.

* Addictions,relapse and recovery,
* 3 bankruptcies,
* 19 residences, 2 provinces
* 5 pregnancies,
* 2 miscarriages,
* 3 full term babies.
* 17 surgeries,
* 3 rounds on welfare,
* 2 on food banks,
* 2 post secondary educations,
* 5 church homes,
* 4 denominations.

Numbers are incapable of telling the whole story. We are not defined by them, they simply chart our journey without describing the landscape. There can be beautiful flowers in the desert.

Gratitude for having reached this day and for the journey that has brought us this far outweighs all else. There came a crucial point where I was going to walk out the door because I was unwilling to embrace, or even recognize, my own imperfections while I was intently focused on dearest one's. All I can say is that God's grace met dearest one where he was at, despite my ultimatum, and the result was that he came home a changed man. Had that not happened, my pride and his would have seen us go our separate ways. We had two children 3 and under and I was pregnant with our youngest son. We still get teary when we think of how close we came to missing out on sharing the journey to today.

I don't even know where to start to tell the rest of the story. So I'll leave you with this verse from the book of James that says it all.
"Kind mercy wins over harsh judgement every time."

Wallowing

"Don't wallow in guilt. Wallow in the mercy of God."

~Catherine Doherty
The Sacrament of Reconciliation is all about wallowing in mercy. When I found myself in much need of it yesterday, I asked to see the priest. Confession is good for my soul. It takes so much energy to carry around secrets. I know, I can take them to God at any moment. There is a relief though, in speaking them aloud to a human being, someone who represents Jesus with skin on to me. It helps keep the "if people really knew me" lie from paralyzing me. In a way, it helps keep me honest not only with myself, but in community as well.

And I believe in the church's teaching which Catherine Doherty explains this way: "When you say to a man, "I have sinned," you have to believe that this chap called a "priest," whatever he might be, is Christ, and it is Christ who says, "I forgive you. I absolve you." Get that straight. This must always be there before you in the infinite totality of faith. It is isn't the priest who is absolving in confession, it's Christ."

She goes on to speak of examining one's conscience as a means to recollect oneself - to collect all the fragments. And so with several fragments weighing on my mind yesterday I negated their power to fill me with shame by speaking them aloud and admitting I was in need of grace. Father Charlie was able to see the domino effect of one of my sins that lead me to commiting another. In doing so, a pattern I have been repeating for years was uncovered and held to the Light. The revelation spurs me on to begin another step 4 with an honesty I was incapable of a year ago.

Today has fragments of its own that need collecting. Rather than wallowing in shame because of that reality I will let those fragments lead me to wallow in Christ's mercy all over again.

24/7 Gratitude

24/7 gratitude. What a concept. That's the name of my AA home group. When I first went back to meetings in June I worried I'd have to paste on a fake smile, and be happy all the time, in order to qualify for membership. A scary thought when I was having a hard time being grateful 24 minutes in 7 days.

A week ago I wrote this post. With my self loathing at an all time high, matched only by my foul and pissy mouth, is it any wonder that post got zero comments? I mean, what's a person say to someone who has all but warned you she's going to tell you to piss off if you dare try and shed some light on her darkness?

When I was first back attending meetings I was wary of anything that smacked of joy. Cynic that I can be, I didn't trust that what the person was saying could really be true. People talked about being grateful for the program and I thought to myself, "man, what a crock." I thought they had their loyalties misplaced. Be grateful for God, not a mere program. Ah, what arrogance. There I was, barely able to lift my head and look anyone in the eye to say, "Hi, my name is Hope and I am an alcoholic." I was so despondent that people thought I was attending my first meeting ever. There were audible gasps when I revealed I hadn't had a drink in 18 years and hadn't been to a meeting in over 8. My outer shell did not reflect someone with that many years of sobriety behind them. And there I sat, thinking I had the answers? Ha.

As I've gone to meetings week after week, I've listened, learned and been humbled. Listened to stories of true gratitude and learned that not drinking and sobriety are two very different things. Humbled to hear people with only days of sobriety be far more honest than I. And I was faced with the realization that if I wanted what they had, I had to do what they were doing. Shit. Sometimes personal responsibility sucks. If I was going to continue to go to meetings, then I was going to have to make some choices. Do the hard work, or quit my bitching.

All I had to do was tell the truth. My truth. How hard could that be? Really hard, it turns out. I'm used to living life from my head. Telling the truth involves saying how things are with you, head and heart. It means being vulnerable. It means sharing both the good times and bad. It means saying how it is, even if it reveals that today I am not working the program one little bit. Looking into their faces of compassion and understanding, I still had a hard time not judging myself for my reality. But it's hard to lie to people who have the best bullshit detectors around. I felt that at any given moment someone in the meeting was going to jump up and yell, "Fraud." Their honesty was simply showing me my lack of it. I knew I was either going to lie myself right into a drunk or risk enough to start telling the truth. Why do we, in the church, prize fraudulent answers over real ones, Sunday after Sunday? At meetings I found myself wanting to give into grandiosity. Make things seem better than they were. Make myself seem better than I was. Or at least better than anyone else in the room. I wanted to come out on top.

Only thing is, it's not a competition. And if I was going to make it one, I could possibly add days of not drinking to my tally sheet, but none to my sobriety.

Since I went to confession last Sunday I have hunkered down to do the hard work. Father Charlie challenged me to do some soul searching. To look beneath my behaviour to what prompted me to choose those things in the first place. I was sick and tired enough of the cycle of self loathing to at least be willing. I wanted what those at my meetings had, more than I wanted a repeat of a cycle of my own making.

And so I started doing what I heard around the tables and read in the Big Book. Pray before you get out of bed in the morning. Pray before you go to sleep at night. And make them the no bullshit kind of prayers. Tell God when I want a drink, an escape, a self numbing oblivion. Ask for help. Search for the what I really was wanting and say it outloud. Be grateful for a day of sobriety. Admit that without God's grace and mercy I was sunk. Ask for help. Pray for the knowledge of God's will for me and the power to carry it out. Some nights, like last night, sleep was a long time in coming and I desperately wanted to numb myself into la-la land. Times like that the honesty is crucial and the praying even more. It's much easier to take matters into my own hands than to reach out for God's.

I got a glimpse this week, for the first time in 18 years, of what it means to journey one day at a time. What it looks like to pray for grace for this day only. How it feels to turn to God with all my frailties, trusting that God's grace and mercy will sustain me where my self will won't. Other people may be able to skip these kinds of prayers on a regular basis and be none the worse for wear. I'm learning the hard way that I can't.

This morning, at my meeting, I was able to talk honestly about the overwhelming gratitude I felt today. Gratitude that when I needed help, there was a meeting to attend and fellow travelers to journey with. Gratitude that God's grace and mercy were there for the asking, at any moment, on any day. I spoke of how I used to think me and God were enough but that I had learned I could no longer journey without their companionship. A week feels like such a short amount of time to have learned anything. But the gratitude feels real. And for that I am grateful.

Today I wrote in my journal: "Something has shifted within me. I'm not trying - straining - to keep from succumbing to my addictions anymore. This time it's not like my worth is in whether I do this perfectly or not. It feels like I've humbled myself and am simply crying out to God for help because I know I can't do it on my strength alone. Will power won't keep me free. It feels like a good shift, whatever it is."

And then I turned to the Big Book and read these words; which summed up exactly how I felt last week at this time: "There is a solution. Almost none of us liked the self- searching, the leveling of our pride, the confession of shortcomings which the process requires for its successful consummation. But we saw that it really worked in others, and we had come to believe in the hopelessness and futility of life as we had been living it." ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 25

Tonight, before I go to sleep I will talk to God about my day. About how grateful I am for a day of sobriety and abstinence. Grateful for the grace to make good choices, life giving choices. Grateful to be learning what it means not to be ashamed of my reality.

To Whom Can We Go?

"...Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life." ~John 6:68

When I get as discouraged as I was yesterday there really is no where else to go. On my way to church this afternoon I felt as if I was cloaked in self loathing - a heavy, dark mantle weighing me down. It's such a tiny church where we gather, everyone knowing where the key is; the quiet and solitude within is good for my soul.

As I knelt and looked at the crucifix I thought about Christ broken for me. Then this picture came into my head of my body, a broken bag of bones. It was as if I was being held in a gunny sack, bones crushed and broken only to find I was the one swinging the baseball bat at myself....beating myself up for being human. God give me the grace to lay the bat down and come broken before you. Heal me, Daddy.

In need of the grace that comes through the Sacrament of Reconciliation I asked for time alone with the priest. And then I spilled my guts... the self loathing, the struggles, the weariness of the battle. And in return I was reminded of just how much God loves me as I am, sin and all.

When I get as despondent about living in my skin as I was yesterday, I inevitably end up calling out to Christ for help. Father Charlie reminded me today that that really was what confession was about. Calling out to Christ for help. I cannot afford to be despondent too long. I know I will only sink deeper into escape and get buried in shame if I don't call out. I used to think I was beyond turning to booze if the shame got too great. I now know I have another drunk in me; I don't know if I have another sobering up. Since returning to AA I have come to some very painful discoveries about myself. The thought of having to ask daily for the grace to withstand all my addictions overwhelms me. I can hardly handle facing the pain that will be if I turn my back on my coping mechanisms. It's one thing to not have a drink for 18 years, it's another to actually live in sobriety.

At this moment I am grateful. Grateful for the grace to call out. Grateful for the grace received to carry on. Grateful that I didn't pick up a drink, rent a blue movie or numb myself into oblivion today. Grateful for the courage to write it all down for the world to see, to remind myself that I don't journey these valleys alone. Grateful for people like you who may not leave a comment, but hold me up in prayer when my strength has so obviously run out. Grateful that hope, despite it all, continues to be my favourite word in the English language.

"The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him and said, 'Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.' ~ 1 Kings 19:7

Today I am grateful to have sustenance for the journey.

Swimming

I will be away from the computer, as far as I can tell, for the next week. My dad has this habit of coming and sitting right beside me as I type or check email when I'm in his house. He just wants to be with me and I just want to be alone when I'm online! So, we'll see how that goes. If I'm silent, you'll know why.

Last evening was spent at one of dearest one's siblings, celebrating their 25th anniversary. Have I ever told you dearest one has 11 siblings? We were the lone non ultra conservative Mennonites there in a crowd of 100 plus people. That was okay. After almost 25 years of marriage ourselves most of the people in the crowd know who I am. There was a time in my journey where my dress and head covering was not much different than these people. That is a long story.

This morning I went to my AA meeting and later had coffee with both sons. There is something very comforting to me that despite them making decisions that are contrary to how we raised them, they come and ask us for prayer. I am so thankful for that.

Last night youngest son and his girlfriend came with us to the anniversary celebration. If you can picture all these women wearing modest dresses and head coverings and my son's girlfriend walking around with a low, low top, belt buckle that had LED readout of her name and tight, tight jeans. I was pretty proud of how she made herself at home in the crowd. I thought back 25 years to me being in that exact situation and now I know why everyone knew who I was. It's hard to be anonymous when you stick out so much!

My mother-in-law did not want dearest one and I to marry all those years ago. I don't blame her. Last night as I greeted her and we talked about her own upcoming holidays I lamented with her about how she was going to spend hers. She whispered to me that I knew her better than some of her own children. And later on in the evening I went to say goodbye to her and I spontaneously said, "I love you." And I had to think of all that has transpired in the past 25 years and if there was(is)hope for me there is hope for anyone. She has been a beautiful example to me of what a mother-in-law can be. I love her for her honesty, compassion and her sense of humour. She had 11 babies in 14 years and kept her sense of humour through it all. And even though she had to stop having babies her heart ached for one more and so they adopted another child. She has understood my own heart ache for more children when I too, had to stop having them.

Tomorrow is another 25th anniversary celebration and then Monday morning I leave bright and early. I will be visiting a friend who is in a hospital between here and where I am headed. She was transferred there a week ago. She had a double lung transplant two and a bit years ago and she is in rejection. Thankfully her body has rallied and she is better than she was a week ago. Her name is Karen if you feel led to pray for her. Through my own lung issues she has been a beacon of light and hope for me. Someone I could phone when I ran out of spoons and not have to explain a thing....she simply understood. We know one another so well now that we can tell by each other's greeting on the phone how limited the other's spoons are.

Tomorrow I will receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation before Mass. Here is a prayer by Catherine Doherty that speaks to my heart. God bless you.

O Lord of Hosts,
I stand before you
with a heart full of tears
and a soul filled with repentance
for all the moments I have been away from you.
Sins of my past life stand before me
in all their horrible nakedness.
And I have only your mercy to fall back upon.
But, then, it is an infinite mercy,
so I throw myself into its sea
and swim to the shore of your love.
Amen