Lessons Learned
I've been single now for about as long as I was engaged. Just before Andie and I broke up, I would have seen great differences between my life then and my life "before Andie". Now, however many weeks later, I am a very different person than just after she left. I've learned a lot of lessons that I want to share. I vainly hoped to make each into a finished essay as I have in the past, but I don't have that much time. Instead, I will just clean them up to "understandable", and share them as they are. I will add to a post until it gets too cumbersome, then spawn a new one. I don't promise that they will be coherent or well-written. I will do my best, though, to make them honest.
My parents have wondered why I share so much on my blog. I do this for a couple reasons. After what happened, it would be very easy for me to completely close up and keep the hurt inside. It would be easy for me to give up on society as a whole. However, both reactions are wrong. To avoid this, I am consciously pushing the pendulum the other way. To keep from completely closing up, I am forcing myself to share more than I normally would, hence the long detailed, brutally honest blog entries. As I follow this course, the second problem tends to solve itself. As I remember to be vulnerable with people, God brings good friends alongside me.
Onto dismantling some ideas and building up others.
So one reaction to the ending of our relationship would be to pretend like it never happened. There never was an "us", it was all a mistake, etc. However, this is a course I choose not to take. While it is truly a dead thing, that doesn't mean it didn't ever exist. To act as if there never was an us would be to ignore the memories that I have, both good and bad, and to pass by the lessons God would have for me.
One issue that Pastor Steve had brought up during our premarital counseling was that of resentment. He said that one common cause of conflict in marriages is when one partner feels "robbed" of opportunities because of their marriage. Obviously, this would be a hard problem to beat. One Saturday in June, I needed some time away by myself to process through stuff. I ended up a couple miles up Clear Creek. Watching the water throw itself down the channel with reckless abandon made me smile. I watched for a while, and then it hit me. God wants me to be full of life. Full like the river; full to overflowing. I decided that this summer, I would do my best to take care of anything that may cause me that resentment issue if I marry someday. To that end, I purposed to take advantage of every opportunity that I could this summer. If I was asked if I wanted to do something, unless it was something wrong, my default answer would be "yes." So far, this has treated me well.
Andie had big plans to celebrate July 4th with her family and I. With those plans negated, I felt a little bereft. I couldn't decide how I wanted to spend my holiday, but God had already gone before me, clearing a way. Two of my new housemates (I moved out of the apartment-that-was-Andie's, which was the best decision I'd made in a while) asked if I wanted to "...go jump in the river." Remember my new default answer? Sure, I wanted to go. I figured that Clear Creek couldn't be much worse than the Big Thompson that I grew up with, which you can wade in most places. I was quite mistaken. As a point of note, I don't know how to swim (lessons 15 years ago don't count, especially when I probably haven't set foot in a pool in almost 10 years). I watched Davey and Joel line themselves up, then decisively push off through a creek rapid. I think my thought was, "what in the _world_?" I figured that God takes care of me, and it couldn't be that deep, so I followed. Well, God does take care of me, but it really is that deep...I was in over my head in every rapid, and the current was way stronger and faster than I thought it would be. It's cold. And dirty. That was one of the most physically intense experiences I have had since I moved here. It wasn't too long before I decided I'd had enough, and would rather not end up fished out far down the creek. Even so, I was quite pleased with myself. The young man who had admitted 7 months earlier that he didn't really care for swimming for several reasons mostly centering around "what other people may think" had managed to do something risky in public. And I wasn't embarrassed at myself.
The day was not all "a rush", though. That afternoon, I had to finish some cleaning at the church, so I decided I'd hang out with the church ministry in the park after I finished my cleaning. Well, it was a good thing I was cleaning alone, because I was feeling pretty toxic. It seemed that the eddy of "beating myself up" was even harder to escape than the currents behind the rocks in Clear Creek. After a few hours of pushing a vacuum in a huff, I realized that the ugly thoughts in my head were a) mostly untrue, b) not how God wanted me to be, and c) a lousy way to be. I ended up watching the Arvada fireworks that night with a group of people I barely knew, but realized that they accepted me for who I am, and the least I could do is the same.
That seems good for an opening post. Keep reading for more.
My parents have wondered why I share so much on my blog. I do this for a couple reasons. After what happened, it would be very easy for me to completely close up and keep the hurt inside. It would be easy for me to give up on society as a whole. However, both reactions are wrong. To avoid this, I am consciously pushing the pendulum the other way. To keep from completely closing up, I am forcing myself to share more than I normally would, hence the long detailed, brutally honest blog entries. As I follow this course, the second problem tends to solve itself. As I remember to be vulnerable with people, God brings good friends alongside me.
Onto dismantling some ideas and building up others.
So one reaction to the ending of our relationship would be to pretend like it never happened. There never was an "us", it was all a mistake, etc. However, this is a course I choose not to take. While it is truly a dead thing, that doesn't mean it didn't ever exist. To act as if there never was an us would be to ignore the memories that I have, both good and bad, and to pass by the lessons God would have for me.
One issue that Pastor Steve had brought up during our premarital counseling was that of resentment. He said that one common cause of conflict in marriages is when one partner feels "robbed" of opportunities because of their marriage. Obviously, this would be a hard problem to beat. One Saturday in June, I needed some time away by myself to process through stuff. I ended up a couple miles up Clear Creek. Watching the water throw itself down the channel with reckless abandon made me smile. I watched for a while, and then it hit me. God wants me to be full of life. Full like the river; full to overflowing. I decided that this summer, I would do my best to take care of anything that may cause me that resentment issue if I marry someday. To that end, I purposed to take advantage of every opportunity that I could this summer. If I was asked if I wanted to do something, unless it was something wrong, my default answer would be "yes." So far, this has treated me well.
Andie had big plans to celebrate July 4th with her family and I. With those plans negated, I felt a little bereft. I couldn't decide how I wanted to spend my holiday, but God had already gone before me, clearing a way. Two of my new housemates (I moved out of the apartment-that-was-Andie's, which was the best decision I'd made in a while) asked if I wanted to "...go jump in the river." Remember my new default answer? Sure, I wanted to go. I figured that Clear Creek couldn't be much worse than the Big Thompson that I grew up with, which you can wade in most places. I was quite mistaken. As a point of note, I don't know how to swim (lessons 15 years ago don't count, especially when I probably haven't set foot in a pool in almost 10 years). I watched Davey and Joel line themselves up, then decisively push off through a creek rapid. I think my thought was, "what in the _world_?" I figured that God takes care of me, and it couldn't be that deep, so I followed. Well, God does take care of me, but it really is that deep...I was in over my head in every rapid, and the current was way stronger and faster than I thought it would be. It's cold. And dirty. That was one of the most physically intense experiences I have had since I moved here. It wasn't too long before I decided I'd had enough, and would rather not end up fished out far down the creek. Even so, I was quite pleased with myself. The young man who had admitted 7 months earlier that he didn't really care for swimming for several reasons mostly centering around "what other people may think" had managed to do something risky in public. And I wasn't embarrassed at myself.
The day was not all "a rush", though. That afternoon, I had to finish some cleaning at the church, so I decided I'd hang out with the church ministry in the park after I finished my cleaning. Well, it was a good thing I was cleaning alone, because I was feeling pretty toxic. It seemed that the eddy of "beating myself up" was even harder to escape than the currents behind the rocks in Clear Creek. After a few hours of pushing a vacuum in a huff, I realized that the ugly thoughts in my head were a) mostly untrue, b) not how God wanted me to be, and c) a lousy way to be. I ended up watching the Arvada fireworks that night with a group of people I barely knew, but realized that they accepted me for who I am, and the least I could do is the same.
That seems good for an opening post. Keep reading for more.
posted by The student of life at 9:41 PM
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