Tradition dictates that every 365 days, you should try to kick bad habits and start your life anew. A New Year's resolution is a commitment that an individual makes to a project or the reforming of a habit, often a lifestyle change that is generally interpreted as advantageous. The name comes from the fact that these commitments normally go into effect on New Year's Day. Some examples include resolutions to donate to the poor more often, to become more assertive, or to become more environmentally responsible.
My resolution was to be nice. Simple enough right? Wrong! Because I grew up with divorced parents who were not pleasant to each other and there were clear limits set between them, this is what I’ve come to know in my divorced life. I believe there need to be clear boundary lines between exes and new spouses. I don’t think it’s OK for exes to come into my house and make themselves comfortable. That is a lack of respect and clear boundaries. However, I noticed that not everyone grew up with these clear boundaries. For example, Curt’s ex wife (Brandi) grew up with exes and new significant others intermingling and it was no big deal. And it’s still not a big deal in her circle of knowledge.
Aside from Brandi making herself comfortable in my home, she and I have never had a good relationship; there has always been friction between us, mostly because I’ve taken offense to the many things she’s said and done. I’ve asked my husband how he can just let bygones be bygones?! He reminded me “For if you forgive their trespasses (their reckless and willful sins, leaving them, letting them go, and giving up resentment) your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” Why does he have to be right?!
So, my New Year’s Resolution is to forgive and be nice. I have to admit though that this will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done! Love thy enemies is never easy. But if I’m to live according to God’s words then I need to admit that I have sinned and confess my sins because He is faithful and just and will forgive my sins and cleanse me from all unrighteousness.
The other person whom I’ve already started this process with is my ex husband’s wife (Jennifer). I’ve come to realize that he is horrible at communication and scheduling, and since she is a big part of my sons’ lives, I need to make more of an effort to communicate with her about schedules and coordinating activities. As I write this, we’ve had four positive interactions. Thank God for small miracles!
Pray for me this weekend, as this will be the first time I encounter Brandi since my New Year’s Resolution. Saint Augustine said, “Faith is to believe what we do not see…” So very true because the rewards for my pledge will probably not bear fruit for years to come or even in my lifetime. What I need to do is to rest in faith that my children's children will be blessed because I would have done what is right, no matter how awkward it may feel for me.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Curt's Story
I was born in Rio Vista Ca. the youngest of four brothers and a sister. When I was five years old my parents divorced. Growing up with divorced parents was never easy but looking back, there were three people in my life who shaped me into the man I am today.
My mom had to get a job and struggled to provide for her family. Somehow she always found a way to make ends meet. We never had abundance and most of the time we had barely enough. I remember my mom crying many times because she just didn’t know how she was going to make it work. At one point she went on food stamps because there was no other way. She never wanted to do that because she always told us that it was for those who absolutely needed it and she didn’t want others to have to provide for her responsibility. She soon got another job and was able to get by without the food stamps. Not that we were any better off but that she was able to just squeak by. She went to the welfare office to tell the social worker that she didn’t need the food stamps anymore. And the social worker said she couldn’t because she still qualified for them. But my mom told her that she was able to make it work without them. They argued back and forth but my mom won the argument. Personally I wish she would have lost back then, it would have made it easier. What I didn’t understand, but I do now, is that she was teaching me that the easy choices are not always the best choices.
When I was 13 years old I went to live with my dad and step mom in Sacramento because of the trouble I was getting into living with my mom. My dad already had another life established in Sacramento, without kids, but with some convincing from my uncle he let me move in with him. I did not feel welcomed in my father’s home because I was not a part of his plans and I was a bad kid with a chip on his shoulder. I didn’t appreciate all that he and my step mom were doing for me; I expected a lot from them and didn’t think I had to do anything to earn it. I believed that my dad had a lot to make up for so I didn’t think I had to take responsibility for our relationship.
My dad also had a drinking problem. At least once a week (sometimes more) he would come home drunk, usually from bowling on Wednesday night. He would come into my room wanting to talk, he would tell me how much he loved me and that he was sorry for the way things turned out. Inevitably, it would always turn into him yelling at me and blaming me for things that were wrong in his life. There was no reasoning with him because he was drunk.
From these one sided “talks” I had with my father, I learned how to deal with people who are drunk. Most people try to reason with people that are drunk but you can’t and if you try you just get frustrated.
My father died when I was 19 years. Though he was not present for much of my life, he did teach me a few things:
1. Respect my roots
2. Hard work
3. Humor
At 16, I left my father’s house and moved in with my older brother Vince. He was the father and friend I needed. He was always there for me when I had any problems. He would take me to his baseball games or out with his friends. Whenever I needed anything I knew I could always count on him. Through the years, he’s taught me the value of hard work and loving your family.
To most, it would appear that I had a horrible childhood. To me, it was real and I made the best of what I was given. And perhaps, through the years, the bad memories tend to fade and are replaced with happier times.
My mom had to get a job and struggled to provide for her family. Somehow she always found a way to make ends meet. We never had abundance and most of the time we had barely enough. I remember my mom crying many times because she just didn’t know how she was going to make it work. At one point she went on food stamps because there was no other way. She never wanted to do that because she always told us that it was for those who absolutely needed it and she didn’t want others to have to provide for her responsibility. She soon got another job and was able to get by without the food stamps. Not that we were any better off but that she was able to just squeak by. She went to the welfare office to tell the social worker that she didn’t need the food stamps anymore. And the social worker said she couldn’t because she still qualified for them. But my mom told her that she was able to make it work without them. They argued back and forth but my mom won the argument. Personally I wish she would have lost back then, it would have made it easier. What I didn’t understand, but I do now, is that she was teaching me that the easy choices are not always the best choices.
When I was 13 years old I went to live with my dad and step mom in Sacramento because of the trouble I was getting into living with my mom. My dad already had another life established in Sacramento, without kids, but with some convincing from my uncle he let me move in with him. I did not feel welcomed in my father’s home because I was not a part of his plans and I was a bad kid with a chip on his shoulder. I didn’t appreciate all that he and my step mom were doing for me; I expected a lot from them and didn’t think I had to do anything to earn it. I believed that my dad had a lot to make up for so I didn’t think I had to take responsibility for our relationship.
My dad also had a drinking problem. At least once a week (sometimes more) he would come home drunk, usually from bowling on Wednesday night. He would come into my room wanting to talk, he would tell me how much he loved me and that he was sorry for the way things turned out. Inevitably, it would always turn into him yelling at me and blaming me for things that were wrong in his life. There was no reasoning with him because he was drunk.
From these one sided “talks” I had with my father, I learned how to deal with people who are drunk. Most people try to reason with people that are drunk but you can’t and if you try you just get frustrated.
My father died when I was 19 years. Though he was not present for much of my life, he did teach me a few things:
1. Respect my roots
2. Hard work
3. Humor
At 16, I left my father’s house and moved in with my older brother Vince. He was the father and friend I needed. He was always there for me when I had any problems. He would take me to his baseball games or out with his friends. Whenever I needed anything I knew I could always count on him. Through the years, he’s taught me the value of hard work and loving your family.
To most, it would appear that I had a horrible childhood. To me, it was real and I made the best of what I was given. And perhaps, through the years, the bad memories tend to fade and are replaced with happier times.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
The Power of Words
1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
2 Now the earth was [a] formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep,and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
3 And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light.
Years ago a girlfriend called me up, excited that her boyfriend called and asked her about “the kids.” For her, this was a big “next step” in their relationship. For me, I learned that day about the power of words.
Curt and I recently had a talk about how he speaks in terms of “I” or “me.” I told him that by not using “us,” “we,” or “our” he’s not acknowledging me and my role in this family. He explained it was not his intent to exclude me or to hurt me with those words. He explained that when he says “I” or “me” he is referring to me as well. I explained to him that that is not what his words convey. Needless to say, we don’t see eye to eye on this. Though I am his wife, and we are one, I cannot hear intent. Words are powerful, they carry positive or negative connotations and they express unity or individuality.
When speaking to others I endeavor to speak of “the children” or “our children” unless I’m explaining the dynamics of our blended family and which children belong to which parent. I refer to me in terms of “us,” “we,” and “our.” This lets people know I am a part of a larger family unit; that I am a wife and mother (to a tribe).
My girlfriend’s conversation has stayed with me through the years and I finally understand her excitement over “the kids” because the connotation is that her boyfriend values her kids and hopes to someday be a permanent part of their lives. Just as Curt using the words “we” or “us” would illustrate that I am in his and the children’s lives.
In analyzing my conversation with Curt, I am reminded that for six days God spoke and it was so. The words we speak have just as much authority because we were created in His image.
2 Now the earth was [a] formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep,and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
3 And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light.
Years ago a girlfriend called me up, excited that her boyfriend called and asked her about “the kids.” For her, this was a big “next step” in their relationship. For me, I learned that day about the power of words.
Curt and I recently had a talk about how he speaks in terms of “I” or “me.” I told him that by not using “us,” “we,” or “our” he’s not acknowledging me and my role in this family. He explained it was not his intent to exclude me or to hurt me with those words. He explained that when he says “I” or “me” he is referring to me as well. I explained to him that that is not what his words convey. Needless to say, we don’t see eye to eye on this. Though I am his wife, and we are one, I cannot hear intent. Words are powerful, they carry positive or negative connotations and they express unity or individuality.
When speaking to others I endeavor to speak of “the children” or “our children” unless I’m explaining the dynamics of our blended family and which children belong to which parent. I refer to me in terms of “us,” “we,” and “our.” This lets people know I am a part of a larger family unit; that I am a wife and mother (to a tribe).
My girlfriend’s conversation has stayed with me through the years and I finally understand her excitement over “the kids” because the connotation is that her boyfriend values her kids and hopes to someday be a permanent part of their lives. Just as Curt using the words “we” or “us” would illustrate that I am in his and the children’s lives.
In analyzing my conversation with Curt, I am reminded that for six days God spoke and it was so. The words we speak have just as much authority because we were created in His image.
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