As the tears pooled in my eyes and my chest burned with rage, I was faced with this familiar and strange pain again.
This blog was conceived in a moment of recognition that I could do something great for me and it was born from a moment of force.
All I have ever had are words. In the moments of my youth when all I could think about was ways to leave this life, I could bring a new pencil to a stub. In the moments when I needed to celebrate or deflate the anger, I could find paper. It was stripped from me once half a lifetime ago and again only weeks ago. My old space, christanandallegra, swelled with bitterness. I found passive aggressive ways to break the injury down, and I decided that was not who I want to be. I made the choice to move forward, to better myself, to reclaim what had attempted to be robbed from me. I chose to return myself back to me and here I fell.
I am in the thick of something awkward, something foreign, something I am being told to wait in and work it out within. I'm battling this desire to SCREAM obscenities at those I feel robbed me. I am in a war with Goliath and determined to be David.
This morning my husband and I had a misunderstanding. I moved to make my old blog private, I moved without asking him. I was conflicted and confused as to why he would care. I was able to step back and see the by not communicating with him, I was leaving him without a shield for the inevitable battle. He would receive a call that would question why I had closed the door, why I had shut family out and he would have no idea what they were talking about. While I boiled with rage, he was able to tell me, "I want to know whats going on so these things are our decisions. When we aren't on the same page, that's when family sees us as divided and gives them room to exaggerate their imagination."
He was right. It just didn't take my anger away. WHY had I done this to my husband. WHY had my freedom, my expression become a tool to torment him? WHY had I let them make me run?
But I am standing and I am walking through this awkward fire in a new home. I want to run but I am being told to Be Still. I am having all sorts of ugliness thrown in my face to weaken me, to defeat me but I am fighting for stillness and being forced to depend on His protection. I am being taught to appropriately protect, appropriately harden my heart and my self.
I know I have complained a lot this week about being a mom, but as I choke up right now, I have to tell you, in releasing it freely I have held my son and talked to him and loved him with so much freedom. I've felt FREE to love him. He isn't this mirror of my imperfection, he is this vision of the best of me. Without being totally free to cry it out on my mountaintop here, I would be bogged down with this defeat that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. My freedom here has given me back pure love and reckless abandon to smother my son with a mother who is released of burden.
Do I thank those that ran me off? Internally. Do I continue on in hiding? For now. I hate the heartache of this indescribably lonely and painful walk but the truth is, He is so present for me right now because I have been pushed into Him. I run to him and fall in His arms and He just picks me up when I am broken and allow myself to hear him. I don't listen or try as hard to be with Him when I am ok.
So I fall here. I admit that this moment is so unbelievably miserable, but I commit to fight for the heart He wants me to have. I am broken but becoming so FREE!
all images here