Six Word Saturday (11/6/10)

Jesus Would Say That Too -- NOT!

Yesterday the place where I volunteer had a pizza party and cake to celebrate all the volunteers with a birthday from July to December.  Everything was going just fine till the end.  The director started talking about one of the new volunteers ("C") who is only volunteering here to fulfill court probation.  I've seen her a couple times but have only said hello, because she's usually in the middle of a big pile of lessons to stamp.  Anyway, the director (the DIRECTOR!!!) starts telling everyone that "C" told him a few weeks ago that she was a lesbian.  He told us he kind of figured she was since she wore masculine clothes and had a weird hairstyle.  But holy moly, you'd have thought the director told everyone C was a serial killer with all the tongue clicking and shaking heads going on.  I should've made up some excuse to go home, because the rest of what he said just broke my heart.  He said he has a really hard time even saying hello to her -- get this, he has to PRAY that he has the strength to say hello to her.  And of course everyone's all commiserating with him that she "has to" volunteer here.  I was so sad hearing how unloving they sounded.

After everyone else started leaving, I went up to the director's wife and asked her if C got to choose where she volunteered (she did).  Okay, correct me if I'm wrong, but if you knew a really outspoken lesbian, do you think she'd CHOOSE to volunteer with Christians or would she pick some other place that's secular?  Secular, right?  I told the director's wife that the Bible study leader who I initially volunteered there with, had a list of probably 100 places in town that we could've volunteered at.  I told the director's wife twice during my conversation that THERE MUST BE A REASON GOD HAS "C" VOLUNTEERING WITH US!  Out of 100 places, she picked us.

I can't stop thinking about that Woman from the Well exercise we did at the retreat.  Jesus KNEW she had five husbands, Jesus KNEW he "shouldn't" associate with her, but just the way Jesus was looking and speaking to her the woman KNEW Jesus loved her!!!!  THAT'S why she got all excited and ran back to town telling everyone that Jesus knew all about her!  Because she could tell he still LOVED HER!!!

I'm so anxious for Tuesday to get here so I can go volunteer and hopefully see "C" and say hi and think of some other things to say to her.  THAT is what Jesus would do.

Rachel's Vineyard, day 3

During the morning meeting they told us we had been living in a bubble there and to be careful to stay close to God everyday after we got home.  We chose one of each other's names on cards out of a basket.  The name I picked was the counselor E.  We were supposed to write on the card how that person was a blessing.  So I wrote things down about E and just sobbed my eyes out (it really sucked knowing I'd have to say goodbye to her, this person who meant so much to me already, when the retreat was over).  Then we each took turns going up to our person and reading the card to them.  Another counselor actually selected my name.  (I still have the card in my jacket pocket.)  Here is what she wrote about me:

Debbie

Beautiful Smile

Strong woman

Willing to take on a task

Putting yourself in a different and strange environment for healing

Openess to share to help others

Blossomed since Friday

We passed around the wine (pitcher of grape juice) again and poured into the big goblet for each thing that blessed us during the weekend.  I put "love" and "healing."  Then we shared the cup and drank each other's joy and blessings.  That was really cool.

The Memorial Service

My therapist came!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me and the other two ladies were in the kitchen filling out some paperwork, and I heard him laughing in the other room!  I was glad he was there but I felt funny at first like maybe he wasn't glad to be there or something.  I asked him if he would mind helping me do things during the ceremony, mostly I just needed to hold his arm for balance becuase I was wearing a dress and flats, and I didn't want to slip.  I had been using a cane for balance most of the weekend and I just wanted the ceremony to stand out more, not my cane.  He said he could help me.  So once the ceremony started all of a sudden I realized he wasn't there for me, he was there for Claudia .. that felt so good to have someone important to me acknowledging my baby's existence.

M read her letter for her baby out loud, but when she first got up there she started seriously crying hard.  One of the counselors and M's daughter were standing with her for support.  Still that was really painful to watch.  I'm almost thinking M was gonna read her letter to her "little girl M" self but maybe it was too painful for her?  At any rate, then T read her letter for her baby out loud too.  When I walked up there with my therapist I got really nervous so I don't think I got much out of "my" part of the service.  I read my "little girl Debbie" letter and the poem I wrote for Claudia.  I don't want to share them anymore.  I felt so dumb, as soon as they were read, I just felt like they weren't even very good!  It was humiliating.  It still is.

Then I had to place the two bereavement dolls representing Claudia and little girl Debbie in the cradle.  THAT WAS HARD.  That was so hard.  I mean, I'm even crying right now remembering it.  It's just a stupid hot-dog shaped doll in a blanket but it hurts so much remembering I had to let them go.

The priest gave me a lovely Certificate of Life that had Claudia's name on it.  One of the other counselors gave me a rose and a pin.  And then me and my therapist sat back down.  Then the priest said some things, and then the service was over.  I asked my therapist if he was gonna stay for the mass (which he did).  Then we had a reception of desserts.  I told my therapist it really meant the world to me that he came!!  After he ate his pie, he said he had to go.  I wish I could have "felt" more around him.  I just felt like a zombie during my part of the service because I was so nervous.  I also feel like I was scared he'd be mad if I cried.

Then we packed up our stuff and my roomie M gave me a ride home!  We're supposed to meet on November 20 for a "reunion" at one of the counselor's houses.  I just can't wait to see everyone again.

Rachel's Vineyard, day 2

Before I forget, during Day 1 after the story of the woman caught in adultery, the counselors pointed out some other rocks on the table and told us to pick one out.  M took a huge one (we estimated it was 20 lbs.), I took a heavy brick-sized one (with kind of pointed edges) and T took a round one about the size of her hand.  The counselors told us we were to carry these rocks with us at all times during the retreat, and it represents the burdens we are still holding onto about the abortion.  During dinner that night T had to go to her room and retrieve her rock because we caught her without it.  And before bed I had to remind M she had to sleep with hers.  At least their rocks didn't have pointed edges like mine!  M got a Sharpie and started writing directly on her rock all the things that were hurting her, and I wrote a few words on mine "shame ... anger ... stolen ... unforgiveness ..."

Okay, onto day 2.  This was the day we told our "stories."  We had to mention things from our whole life including childhood, I guess so they could get the big picture.  I didn't cry very much during mine which I was glad for.  I felt like a really bad person by the end though.  The other two ladies didn't really cry either except M when she was talking about her brother dying.  The counselors mentioned that it sounded like I never really had a childhood (since I was in the hospital and sick so much), that I wasn't allowed to make decisions, and that I suffered two traumas (date rape & the abortion).  I guess it felt good to be validated and safe.  Lupe noticed I didn't like to be helped, but she commented due to my past I feel like a burden on people.

We also had mass in the morning before breakfast.  I followed along except for the wafer/wine thing.  Also, one of the songs mentioned "our cross" but I don't have a cross:  I know Jesus died for my sins so I don't need to carry one.

This day we did an exercise about Lazarus.  First they read the story from the Bible and then led us through a meditation putting ourselves in the story as Lazarus.  They told us parts of our body could feel "dead" after the abortion - for example, your heart (if you feel brokenhearted), your hands (if you feel powerless), your head (if you feel confused), your abdomen (if you've never had additional children), and feet was something but I can't remember.  The priest put fragrant oil in the sign of a cross on my head (to symbolize how they anointed Lazarus's body with oils as they prepared him for burial).  Then they went up to each of us and asked what part of our body felt dead. I picked my heart (brokenhearted) and my hands (for being powerless, indecisive and not being able to move forward), and they wrapped gauze around my shoulders and around my hands.  They read a few more things and then they acted out Jesus' words, "Lazarus, come out."  Lazarus wasn't dead anymore and my heart and hands weren't dead anymore.  I loved the symbolism and reminder in this one.  God can heal my heart and give me strength whenever I need it.  When I "came out of the cave," it felt so nice like I didn't have to live in darkness and shame and powerlessness.  I truly felt better.

Then we were to write an anger letter to someone.  I picked Dr. Ford (our family doctor).  I know I wrote one to him during the structured recovery group last spring, but I still had plenty to be mad about.  I pretty much said I was glad Dr. Ragsdale (abortion doctor) died in 2004 and I couldn't wait for Dr. Ford to die too.  Before I read my letter to everyone, I told the priest he was gonna hate me at the end (where I said I wished Dr. Ford would die).  After I read it, the priest told me it was okay to wish Dr. Ford was dead just not to actually kill him.

After this, M decided she could get rid of her rock (and so did T, for some reason).  They let M demolish hers with a mallet and T just threw hers in the yard.  I shouldn't judge them but I felt like I still had stuff to work through and figured they would too.

The next exercise was the Woman who touched Jesus' cloak.  They read the Bible story about how she bled 12 years and went to doctors to no avail, and how she was considered unclean and shunned by everyone.  She desperately made her way through the crowd hoping to just touch Jesus.  After she did, he turned around and said he felt power go through him and asked who touched him.  She said she did and Jesus said her faith healed her.  So the counselors guided us through another meditation where we put ourselves in the scene as the woman.  (This wasn't that much of a stretch for me, because before my hysterectomy I bled every single day for a couple years, and also I feel shunned and disgusting just because of who I am.)  They had a cloth representing Jesus' cloak draped over a cross in the middle of the room.  We were to imagine we were the woman and we would say what part of us was "bleeding" and then go up and touch the cloak.  The meditation touched me so deep and I couldn't stop crying but I went up and touched it twice -- once because my heart bleeds for all the people I miss who die or leave me, then another time for all the rejection I've felt (just like the woman feeling shunned).  This felt so good to me, like Jesus heard me and would have the power to take the pain in my heart away.

After dinner the exercise was about the woman at the well.  After the meditation, where you put yourself in the story and imagine meeting this incredibly loving person who knows all about you and still loves you and who says you can get living water from Him, we each took turns pouring water from a pitcher into a fountain in the room and said, "Yes, Jesus, I accept your living water."  This meditation and actions made me feel so loved and accepted!!!

Then was the most special meditation of all.  We did an exercise about our babies.  The meditation was so perfectly described that I could really imagine the field and flowers and seeing children and Claudia playing with Jesus.  We had our eyes closed and part of the meditation was the child coming to give me flowers.  As that was said, someone in real life pressed a little bouquet of real flowers in my hand.  I cried and cried.

After that meditation was a naming ceremony (if you hadn't given your baby a name yet).  Then we lit a floating candle in the fountain for our baby and said, "This light is for me and my baby ____" and named them.  The other two babies were Alice and Little Freddie.  Then we circled around the fountain and sang Amazing Grace and This Little Light of Mine.  We then filled out some papers for the baby's certificate of life.

After this, I decided I could throw that rock away.  So one of the counselors had me say what it represented to me, and I said anger, guilt, shame, unforgiveness and sorrow, and the counselor hurled it into a field for me!  Yeah!  It felt like I myself was doing it, it felt awesome!  He told me now I can't carry it literally anymore in my heart either.  In my journal I said, "I think I will make it through without it now."  (Nine days out, I am doing pretty good.)

Well, this night we signed up for an hour of "Adoration."  Apparently, Catholics take turns doing this all night.  T signed up for 10:00 so I picked 11:00 (even though that felt pretty late for me).  I suppose they said the rosary and other stuff during their turn to spend time with God, but all I did was write a poem for Claudia like a eulogy.

They also passed out bereavement dolls.  They are the size of a hot dog bun, shaped like a hot dog made out of white cloth, wrapped in a white flannel blanket with lace edges.  I also got a second one as a "Baby Debbie" to remind myself of what "little girl Me" needed so much when she was little, and write a letter to "her."  I wasn't sure if we were supposed to read that letter at the memorial service.  But I slept with both bereavement dolls.  I didn't really have much feeling about the dolls at that time.

Rachel's Vineyard, day 1

I'm going to write about my experience with the retreat I went on a week ago.  I want to state two things if someone should happen to read this:  1)  I highly recommend going! and 2) even though you can read about it here, it is a whole different thing EXPERIENCING it, so don't say you don't have to go now that you read about it, because [see number 1!].  I also belong to a forum where I was talking about anticipating going, and one of the moderators sent me a private message that I "had to" write about it only on their religion board instead of that one, and it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  I mean, I would THINK I'd already know not to be preachy in my descriptions if I posted on the regular board.  So now I'm deciding not to post at all about it anywhere on that forum, and I'll write about it here, and since this is my blog I'm not going to water down the lessons I learned.  (So THERE.)

The retreat took place at a bed and breakfast at the base of the mountains about 16 miles from my house.  My husband drove me out there.  All I told him was that it was a retreat for church because I didn't want him to make fun of me again for not being "over it" after 26 years.  Once we pulled off the highway, the roads weren't paved so he was worried about his BMW paint job and kept teasing me, "Oh, this is gonna cost you."

The fourth person canceled at the last second so there ended up only being three of us.  (If they had known in advance there was only going to be three, they would have canceled the weekend.)  It turned out fine even with three.  We met in the main room with all the counselors and the priest and gave a short intro.  I guess I was a ball of nerves because even doing this little thing made me cry.

One thing I should mention too, this retreat is sponsored by the Catholic church.  I personally go to a Baptist church though.  And, unfortunately, three specific people who are important to me in my life have huge problems with Catholics.  My Sunday school teacher is very opinionated and (to me) self-righteous and acts like he knows everything, and he cuts down any religion that isn't Baptist.  Then the director of the place I volunteer at will come up to me with a student's answer sheet and tell me that the student goes to a Catholic church, and then he somberly tells me, "We need to pray for him," in the same tone that he uses about a student who's in prison for murder or something.  And the third person is another volunteer I work with who actually is a former Catholic and he's nothing short of hostile about the church and likens it to a cult.  (He gets so incensed and can go on and on about it, and sometimes just to be funny, I will ask him "Oh, did you see the pope on TV yesterday?" just because I know he'll launch into a 45 minute anti-Catholic speech and I'll get to take a break from grading papers.)  

But anyway, here I am at the retreat and my radar is up and trying not to get myself "ensnared" in this "horrible" church, and I was feeling like I would be SINNING if I slipped up and accidentally did something Catholic.  I didn't want those three people to hate me, right?  So after only being at the retreat for two hours and listening to everyone and trying to discern what was biblical and "Baptist-ly" correct or not, I was exhausted.  I went to my room and started crying and screaming, praying that I wanted to go home because I couldn't do it (tell the difference between what was sinful Catholicism or just innocent Christian words).  And even though I was screaming, all of a sudden I heard this really quiet voice say right to my heart, "Don't worry about it.  I'll let you know."  God has spoken to me like that a couple times before and I knew I could completely trust that voice too, so the whole rest of the retreat I seriously never gave "slipping up and doing something Catholic" another thought.  That was God's biggest gift to me because I then was free to be able to heal and learn so much.  (I told my counselor later that I almost wish I could ask those three men for an apology for scaring me so badly.  At least I know for myself that they were in the wrong here, not me, and I think God backs me up.)

We did a couple exercises called Living Scriptures.  The first one was the woman caught in adultery.  They read the actual passage from the Bible, and then they guided us through a meditation exercise.  Basically, you put yourself in the scene and you're the woman caught in adultery, the one who's hated and dirty and going to be stoned to death.  And as the story goes, Jesus writes something in the dirt with his finger and then stands up and tells the people that the one who is sinless can cast the first stone ... and one by one the people leave.  Then Jesus turns to the woman and says,  "Neither do I condemn you.  Go and sin no more."  So in the room, we passed around a stone and repeated Jesus' words to each other.  It felt completely different DOING something tangible with the story rather than just hearing about it.  Although I had asked for forgiveness about my abortion long ago, and I already knew God forgave me and even Claudia forgave me, it felt great to do this exercise.  I wrote in my journal later that I still wished I had done something different and not have had the abortion.  One of the other women at the retreat said she thought it would help heal her if she told her family her secret, and one counselor said, "God's healing is not conditional."  That REALLY helped me because I also had that feeling of "if I do this then my sin would be forgiven."  (YES, I still thought that, even though I already knew for years that I was forgiven.)

The next Living Scripture we did was about Bartimaeus, the blind man Jesus heals.  (You can read the Bible story here.)  Bartimaeus asked Jesus to take pity on him and Jesus asked "What do you want me to do for you?" and Bartimaeus wanted to see, so he was healed.  Then we were guided through another meditation exercise where you're put in the scene and you are Bartimaeus, a lowlife who's unimportant but desperate even though you know Jesus is really busy, etc.  They gave us each a candle (representing Jesus' life lit in you, if I remember right) and asked each of us Jesus' question.  When I got my candle, I guess I still wanted to hold onto not healing because I don't deserve it or something.  I just wasn't ready to let go.  Looking back on it now, I can see that I felt as unworthy as Bartimaeus but at least HE had faith Jesus would help him!

The priest then did a Catholic blessing for healing.  He went up to each of us and laid his hands on us and prayed, then he made the sign of the cross on my forehead and the palms of my hands.  He told us the blessing was good for both physical AND mental healing.  And you know what, it was very soothing for my mind.

Then we watched a video from the founder of Rachel's Vineyard.  She talked a little about the background, and then a couple former retreat participants gave their testimonies.  One woman mentioned that a woman is a lifeline to the baby in her womb but an aborted baby is that woman's lifeline to God.  Another lady said her closeness with Jesus is something good out of something bad.  Those two things stuck out for me.

The last exercises of this evening was sharing in each other's suffering.  They had a pitcher of grape juice (wine) and a big goblet.  We took turns pouring a little of the wine in the glass as we named what we were suffering.  I said shame, guilt, bitterness, anger and sorrow.  Then we each drank from the cup and passed it around till it was empty to share in each other's suffering.  To end the day, we held hands in a circle and said the Lord's Prayer (without the "thine is the kingdom" part).

Session today and getting nervous about Friday

I go to my retreat on Friday.  My husband is going to take me out there so I don't have to worry about driving on the highway.  The main lady from the retreat told me today they almost had to cancel it because there were only three people going, but apparently a fourth person signed up today.  Even though I know the other women there will have basically the same story as me, I'm upset about sharing mine.  We'll see how it goes.  I really am looking forward to spending some time away.  I'm also going as a "fact-finding mission" and going to take lots of notes for my counselor about what we did at the retreat.  He has been so supportive and excited for me about going to this retreat, I almost feel like he's going along with me.

On the way to my appointment this morning, I listened to the first three songs from Third Day's new album "Move" for the first time. It was impossible to be in a bad mood or worried or any mood but happy and uplifted, wow!

Well, I talked to my counselor about this weekend, and how I'm scared of having to talk about something that happened that I wish never happened.  He was trying to help me re-write the scene, except at first I didn't understand HOW we could do it.  I couldn't say (in the rewritten scene) "I don't want to do this" and walk out of the clinic and now be the mother of a 26-year-old.  I can't re-write anything that physically happened.  It took me a while to understand this, because what else could I re-write then?

I'm not sure of the order he said this in, but he told me I could re-write a part where I could be able to tell Claudia I'm sorry I'm a bad mom and I love her and tell her how terrifying it was for me to have a doctor saying I'd die if I continued the pregnancy and to have my parents treating me like a leper with AIDS and withholding their love.  (But actually in 1985 I don't remember telling Claudia anything, I was like a deer in the headlights or a cow being led to the slaughter basically).  But, yes, saying it out loud to Claudia today felt very nice and peaceful.  My counselor also said that even though her physical body isn't here because she lives in heaven, I could carry her spirit and heart with me.  I'm not sure how biblical that is but again it was such a lovely thought even though I couldn't actually feel anything.  

He was also trying to help me see that I do still have a connection with her.  He said that when I feel overwhelming guilt about what happened, I tend to lose that connection with her and that's where I get in the loop of "I wish this never happened/I want to change it but I can't," and he said the shame should remind me that I need to attempt reconnecting with her by letting her know how I feel.  (To me it feels like it should be the opposite - I feel guilty for what I've done and Claudia wouldn't want me to talk to her.)  This made so much sense to me, and I sincerely thanked him when I left today.

I have a surprise coming up on Sunday that I'm really excited about.  Just so I don't jinx it, I'll wait till after the retreat to write about it.  But knowing someone thinks I'm that important to do this for me makes me feel pretty special.  I'm trying not to worry that something will mess it up.  Also, when I try to find information about what happens at these retreats, hardly anything detailed comes up in Google.  So I wonder if it's supposed to be a big secret like the recipe for Famous Amos cookies or something.  If there's no confidentiality agreement (as far as exercises or events during the retreat), I will post about them.

Intake

I had been playing phone tag for about a week with the lady from Rachel's Vineyard retreat for the intake form, and I've been just so obsessed and worried about what kind of questions she was going to ask me.  So yesterday I wrote to the main lady and she said she herself would help me with it today and told me to try not to worry.  So I talked to the main lady on the phone today and she went through all the questions - how many abs I've had, the date of my ab, how old I was, if I'm married, how many kids I have and their ages, if I'm on medication, any special physical needs (I said I have a hard time with stairs because of my hip and back).  Then she asked what religion I was and any food preferences I had.  And that was pretty much it.  She said she'd be sending me in regular mail a map and a list of stuff to bring.

I told my counselor yesterday that I was so nervous about this intake thing because I was so hesitant to tell my "story" again.  I guess to be honest I don't really like talking about it because at this point in my life telling people about it makes me feel like I'm losing Claudia all over again.  The retreat is 15 days from now.

Six Word Saturday (10/2/10)

So do they or don't they?

Cue the cheesy music

Today I'm going to a luncheon at my Sunday school teacher's house.  We had the Global Impact Celebration (honoring missionaries) this week at church, and last night our class served the big dinner.  And today the missionary to Morocco is going to be talking at their house.

I just don't think anyone in my class really cares if I go or not.  Two of the women (related to the teacher) are pregnant now, one of them just had a baby recently, and for some reason it's so painful being around them.  After I got done helping out at the dinner last night, I got in my car to drive home and I screamed and cried the whole way.  The "mean" part of me wants to say that these people apparently wrote the book on families and they're perfect and know everything.  The nice (but devastated) part of me wants to say I sincerely wish I had been part of their family.  Instead, what did I get from my family?

First pregnancy - nobody was supportive of me, the doctor scared me saying I would die if I had it, my parents were ashamed of me, my sister acted really hateful and said "she can't take care of herself let alone a baby" (which haunts me TO THIS DAY).

Second pregnancy - the only reason why my first husband wanted me to get pregnant was so his family wouldn't find out he was gay.  He was a drunk and never helped me with the baby financially or otherwise!

Third pregnancy - my current husband wouldn't even ADMIT I was pregnant till he saw the sex-determining ultrasound when I was almost six months pregnant!  Way to be excited, DUMB ***!

Fourth (last) pregnancy - my current husband thought it was too soon to have a baby again since our daughter was only 8 months old.  He hinted around that we could "try again" when she was older.  Gee, wonder what that insinuates about the baby I was already pregnant with?

It's like nobody takes an interest in my kids, nobody supports me or tells me I'm doing a good job.  Well, my counselor has been encouraging me (in a subtle way, so subtle that 99% of the time I almost miss it).

Anyway, getting back to the six words ... I guess I feel since people from my past were never happy for me being a mother that I contemplate the people I know now aren't either.  I feel too scared to ask if I can hold one of their babies because I think they'll say no.  I guess I'm thinking they think I'm a bad mom, for the simple reason that they never say I'm a good one.  So then I start feeling like maybe they don't really even want me around.