More healing in a surprising way

My son's girlfriend used to live next door to us with her uncle, but her mother got out of rehab/jail so she now lives with her.  Ian's getting things purchased for prom, and since Somara doesn't live with her uncle anymore (and her mother just works at KFC right now) I thought I would help Ian out and pay for some things for Somara, maybe even go with her to get them!!  She still needs to buy her shoes, get her nails done and then on the day of the prom she's getting her hair done at a salon.  I know it's going to cost about two hundred, but I feel surprisingly thrilled being able to do this!  I know I missed Claudia having a prom and Melanie's still too young for prom.

I'm thinking it's the same "theme" as my post about Perry:  I have something missing in my life and I give the exact thing that I want, to someone else.  It makes my heart feel wonderful.

Perry

My volunteer work is really rewarding.  I kind of feel like some of the students are my "friends" considering how many times I grade the same people's lessons.  Anyway, sometimes the inmates write notes on the Bible study lessons they send in.  One time right after Thanksgiving this one guy Perry wrote how sad he is that he will be away from his family for the holidays.  For some reason, it really got to me.  I don't really like Christmas and here this guy was sad he couldn't have one with his family, so I've kept him in my prayers hoping God could comfort him somehow.  

I really feel almost a comraderie (sp?) with the students who are in prison because they feel forgotten and unwanted too, so when I put smileys on their papers, etc., it makes me feel less bad about my situation knowing I'm maybe helping theirs a little by being loving and noticing when they get a good grade.

Anyway, about a month ago I was grading again and a lesson from Perry was in my stack!  I wrote a note to him and snuck it in his envelope, saying I was so glad to be his grader that day because I hadn't been able to get him out of my mind since the holidays and that I was still praying for him.  Then a couple weeks ago I got to grade one of his lessons and he never said anything about my note, and I just figured someone noticed it was on a post-it note (and prisons are cracking down on anything sticky so maybe they threw it away when they were censoring mail).  Oh-well, I tried.

So today I went to volunteer and there was a note on a piece of notebook paper with the words "For my Christian grader Debbie" on the outside, and it was a whole one-page letter from Perry!!!  He did get my note!  I thought it was really cool that he wrote that much back.

Easter and a bad dream

Saturday night I dreamed I woke up Sunday morning at 10:30!!!!!  It felt so real!!!  That meant I missed playing handbells in the 8:30 service and the 9:45 service!!  And in my dream I was just frantic and I figured I better show up for the 11:00 or I'm in trouble, so I decided I could make it to the 11:00 if I went to church in my pajamas (a big t-shirt and my husband's pajama pants!) and not even brush my teeth, comb my hair, or eat anything!  And in my dream my heart was pounding and I was so scared I wouldn't make it!  So I put my shoes on and went outside, and someone had stolen my car!!!  In my dream I was so inwardly angry at my kids because they're always leaving the doors unlocked and my husband's always yelling at me that someone's going to steal my car.  My son had left for work already (in my dream) and I can't drive the van and or my husband's stick-shift car, and I was so frustrated and panicked because if I woke my husband up to drive me to church, I knew he wouldn't do it in his underwear and he'd have to get dressed and probably go to the bathroom and brush his teeth, and I wouldn't make it in time.  

When I went to put my head in my hands to cry, my hands had turned into knives like Edward Scissorhands and it was too late for me to stop moving my head towards them, and I had a huge scream in my throat because I knew I was going to get all cut up, and just then I woke up!!  I was so confused too, because I was sitting in bed in the dark, whereas one second ago I was outside in the sunshine wondering where the heck my car went to.  I don't know if I made any noise when I was dreaming but my husband asked me if I was okay, and I yelled "NO!  I had a bad dream!!"  And then I said forget this, I'm getting up.  It was 4 a.m. but I didn't care.

Anyway, here is the video for How Great Thou Art and I'm the second one from the end (in pink).  We did a pretty decent job.  I knew God would like it regardless.  What's funny is, when I don't have the sheet music in front of me watching the video, I can't tell too much where we messed up.

It's Friday but Sunday is coming

Some other blogger used that for a headline and it turned out not to be what I was expecting.  Here's what I was expecting (Sunday from Tree63):

This Easter should be pretty good.  I'm back in the handbell choir since the songs aren't too hard.  I'm playing different bells this time and they aren't as heavy.  And the bell player I get to stand next to is super nice.  I'm excited.  We're going to do some fanfare song and then play "How Great Thou Art."  We're playing at all three services, so my husband said he'd sneak into the 3rd one and videotape it.  Then after we're done playing at the beginning of that service, we can leave.  So I might post up the video later.

The online structured recovery group is going a little better.  I finished my anger letters (dropped more F-bombs than Ozzy Osbourne, I might add) and then I've been working on the forgiveness step (just as pertains to what happened, NOT anything else that people have done that I'm hurt over).  Someone had said that the opposite of forgiveness isn't anger, it's resentment.  For some reason, for me, that distinction really helps me be able to stomach forgiving someone.  I can let go of resentment.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Carleigh

Thinking about you today.

It shouldn't matter

This morning when I was volunteering, the director asked me if he could ask a personal question.  He said a lot of the other volunteers have been asking him what's wrong with me physically.  He said he felt like they thought he didn't care because he would just say he didn't know.  So I tried explaining that I was born like this and tried to detail what exactly was "wrong" on my body, and then I stopped and kind of laughed, saying, "Just tell them I got hit by a train."  Then on the way home I got really upset and crying in my car about this.

For starters, they are gossiping about me behind my back!  "A lot" of the other volunteers have been asking?!?  Another thing, they're not in elementary school where you whisper and stare at someone who looks different than you -- these people are adults and should know better!  Another thing, the biggest thing, these people are supposedly Christians working for a Christian nonprofit company.  It shouldn't matter WHAT I look like or HOW I walk!  It shouldn't matter!  Asking what's "wrong" with me makes about as much sense as asking Oprah why she's black.  God made me like this.

I've been reading this book by Brennan Manning called Abba's Child.  There was a real eye-opening line in there about prejudice.  "Prejudice is a defense mechanism against loving."  Wow, think about that.  When you shrink back from someone because they're tall, loud, Chinese, heavy, smart, deformed, blonde, etc., you're giving yourself an excuse not to love them.

Six Word Saturday (3/6/10)

I feel so much rage inside

Sorry.

I'm still reflecting on my life (my whole life, not just the part where Claudia comes in) and I'm just so angry.  I can see how people over and over wanted me to do things and I did them.  Was I NOT born with a mouth?  Right now my counselor is having me read a book called "Abba's Child" by Brennan Manning and he talks about this imposter inside yourself, where you basically deny your true self in order to keep the peace (being a COWARD, his word) and/or to maintain acceptance by others.  

What has it gotten me?  NADA.  What has it gotten others?  EVERYTHING.

My sister hated me from the time I was 12 till I was 20.  My parents let MY SISTER have a say about Claudia.  What does she say?  "Debbie can't take care of herself, let alone a baby."  When I was 20, miraculously after my sister graduated from travel agent school and needed a place to stay, all of a sudden I wasn't so disgusting to her and she lived with me.  Oh, and she needed a car.  Our parents didn't want her to ruin their credit if they co-signed, so guess who they got to co-sign my sister's brand new 1987 Renault Alliance?  I never even got to drive it because everyone thought I was too mentally and physically challenged to drive.

My first husband - same theme, different story.

My second husband - same theme, different story.

My third husband - yep, same theme, different story, and continuing.

I don't want them all to hate me or be mad at me so I'm chicken and give in.

Two things make me write about this today.  First, my kids threw a holy fit Thursday night to get me to take them to Literacy Night.  I've been telling them all week that I didn't want to go.  My husband couldn't take them because he was teaching.  I don't like being out in public because I look like a monster and people stare.  We had to park quite a ways away from the school since the parking lot was full, and my son was screaming about not making it in time to get a hot dog the whole time I'm parking.  I could see there was a line of people waiting for hot dogs so I don't know why he was so upset.

Secondly, my sister sent me a little Easter package yesterday of marshmallow peeps, bunnies, malted milk eggs and two fanny packs she got from a convention.  I was surprised, happy, shared the candy with my kids and little boy I babysit for, liked the lavender pack, but inside I want to just rip something to shreds.  Why does she get to treat me so badly and I hate her and then she is nice to me and I don't know how to feel.  Well, of course she likes me .. I've done everything she's ever wanted.

I feel like I'm just alive for other people - my husband, my kids, my parents.  My self, my true self, doesn't really exist.  I would leave but I never make more than $100 a week and that's not enough to live on.  Ironically, I made a ton of money when I was married the first two times and it was pretty easy to finally say "enough" but now I'm stuck here.