This is Me...Positively Persevering...

I remember when I worked at the ranch, I said a lot of sentences that began with, "Well, at least...." and sometimes it was just the smallest thing I could even think of, but it was something.  Something for them to grasp at, hopefully latch on to, and pull themselves up with it.  Sometimes, they would tease me because so many of my sentences started out that way, and I can recall numerous times when my answer started off with, "Well, at least..." and then we would all laugh, because I didn't plan on that coming out of my mouth just like it did...and it was funny.  And then, we "at least" had some laughter in a pretty gloomy spot for them.  To be a teenager is bad enough, but to be a teenager that has been pulled up from their whole environment, everything they know, everyone they know, stripped down to the bare necessities, and then left in a strange place with strange people, with hard work ahead of them you have to admit is pretty devastating.  But Miss Abby always had an "at least..." to help them through their days.

I had no idea what I was going to write on this post.  In fact, I sat here and stared at the screen for a long time, thinking, "I have nothing positive to say, so I can't post, because my blog is entitled 'Positively Persevering', and I'm thinking that if that is the title, my first post saying, "I HAVE NOTHING GOOD TO SAY RIGHT NOW AT ALL." would probably not be appropriate.  So here I am, sitting, waiting on some positivity to come crashing down on me from the heavens above (or my ceiling at this point), and I don't know what I was thinking about, but the words "at least" came into my mind.  I don't remember what the "at least" was that I was thinking, and maybe there wasn't one, but I had the start to a blog entry.  That's something to work with, right?  That's positive...because I finally thought of something to say that I could post!

Those words took me right back to the ranch days I've previously described, and I thought about the word "devastated, or devastation" and how it applied to both their lives at that time and my life now.  It's the same, but different, but you can read what I mean, right?  People that know me well know that sometimes they have to read what I mean to say, not exactly what I said.  I know, crazy.  So anyways...devastation, devastated....it doesn't really matter, because when that's the shape you are in, they both apply. 

How is my life the same, you ask.  I heard you.  Well.  Let me tell you.  I'll give you the short version so as to not overload you with all the (devastating) details.  About two and a half years or so ago, I met the person that, through a lot of talking and texting, became my friend.  And the more we talked, the more we talked, and the better friends we became.  It didn't take us long to figure out that we knew what we needed...and that was to be with each other for the rest of our lives, because we had become best friends.  We had shared the good, the bad, and the ugly, and we still loved each other.  We agreed to disagree on a few things, and the rest, we could finish each other's sentences, just like that.  We talked about everything, all the time.  We did things together...I went outside with him, and he came inside with me...both of us not in our comfort zones, but both of us doing some giving and taking.  And this became our routine....doing things together, both outside and in.  We made things, fixed things, watched things, talked about things, went places, and did things.  We didn't do anything spectacular, just "things".  But we were doing them together, and that made them spectacular.  And that's the way it's been.  Sure, there have been some bleeps on our radar here and there.  We've had a couple of misunderstandings or grumpy moments, but fussing and fighting and yelling were forbidden in this relationship, agreed upon by both of us, and we never felt the need.  So we just had little grumpy moments here and there. 

Sometimes, life gets in the way of "together" and when you lose sight of "together" you start being "apart". And "apart" is not where you want to be. (I could write a whole book on this topic, but I'll spare you...at least for tonight.)  But what do you do when you are taking care of two families, with a total of 8 children and 5 grandchildren (number 6 is cookin!)...you do what you have to do, and sometimes, that meant that "apart" was where we had to be.  We've had the whole book of misfortunes thrown at us over the last year, especially, and while it has been stressful, I thought we had been handling it fairly well.  Looking back, the only solution I can come to at this point amidst all my confusion is that the "together" bonding moments were fewer and farther between.  And like I said...when you are not "together" then you are "apart".  I am a firm believer that if your "apart" time is more than your "together" time, then you better watch out.  But me, being the ever-cheerful one, the positive one, would always counteract the negativity with one of those infamous "at leasts" and we would keep trucking right along. 

The truck slammed into a brick wall some days ago.  It's all a blur, so I don't really remember when, how long has passed, or anything, and I'm tired, but the man I married, Anna's PiePie, was long gone, and in his place was the legendary Mark Perry himself.  All the love and compassion was gone.  Those soft blue eyes?  Hardened.  That "black heart" he talked about that I swore was never there to begin with...well, it came back.  And he told me he didn't want me here.  He wanted me to go.  He wanted to be alone.  Around no one.  And he didn't know why, but that's what he wanted, and so "go" I have to do.  There was no conversing to be done; his mind was made up.  The black heart and the ice cold wall came back, and there was no penetrating the wall to even think about getting to the heart.  I had lost my best friend, my companion, the person that I depended on being there for me day in and day out.  He was gone.  And he isn't coming back.  I will never know why, I will forever be confused, and I'm not sure if there is a number high enough to count the pieces of my broken heart. 

My heart is broken not only because I lost that person, and I will forever wonder what I could have done better, differently, not done, said, not said, and so those thoughts or some like those continue to constantly play in the back of my mind, but my children lost the man they looked up to, stood up for, and depended on, and trusted to take care of their mama.  It's confusing enough when you are nearly 18 and 20, but when you are 6, it is next to impossible to understand, and explaining...well, that doesn't work, either.  So I hold her while she cries, and I cry with her, and I try to be brave and not cry when she asks me why we have to go because she likes "her PiePie's" house better than any other house, even the one with the swimming pool and the dog that plays "tag of war".  She wants to know who will talk to her horse every day, and what about the puppies that were just born, and the ducks that go on the pond that she was promised.  She wants to know what's wrong with "her PiePie" because she knows something is wrong, but I don't know the answer to that, and so my heart breaks for her over and over again. 

Since my "job" was to work at the store that we just opened in October, "Perry's Paradise," and teach art classes, the money on my end was and is scarce.  Classes were picking up, and I was able to contribute to paying the bills consistantly for three months in a row, which I thought was great.  Classes continue to go strong, and while it's not a huge paycheck, it's enough to make a dent in the bills.  All of this to say...cash on my end of things is non-existant.  It's hard to find a place to put a house worth of stuff and you and your kid, especially when you have no money, just in case you didn't know that already.  Sure, I could stay with this friend or that, for some amount of time, but at some point, my house worth of stuff and my child and I would probably like to have more than the graciously offered guest room at said friends' houses.    While we are on the topic of money, I will say that I will know by noon on Monday if I have a job or not, so say a prayer about that, would ya?  That would be a decent start...a job, in which case the store would be closed during the day, and open on class nights and Saturdays.  I guess I can insert an "at least" right here:  at least I have the store, and the classes are working.  That is *some* income, and then if I get the job, that will be *more* income.  A second "at least":   I have places to go and people who love me and nice houses in which I can stay.  I will not go without shelter or without meals, and I will be OK.  During said stay, I can save money so that when the next perfect little house becomes available, I'll be all set and ready to go.  (Because I *am* going to get that job on Monday.)

So, I was out looking, and I thought I had found the perfect little house for us.  I saw it this morning, and I love it even more, but to come up with rent plus the security deposit, plus save enough money for gas to get to work *if* I get the job, and they hold your check a week, so that's longer, seems like something totally impossible at this moment.  Plus electricity and water...yeah.  Shop rent.  Cell phone bill.  Ugh.  I could pay the bills if I just were started, and had the deposit out of the way, but that hasn't happened, and won't, so onward I go.  I've racked my brain every which way, thought and thought and thought, and I just can't come up with a way to do it.  So, as perfect as it seems, the only choice I seem to have is to know that God has something better in store for me, but right now, it means I have nowhere to put my junk and I need to pack my clothes, etc. as though I am living out of a hotel room, which is essentially what I will be doing.  ***NOTE:  I am in NO WAY complaining here....I am ever so grateful to all of my friends who have graciously told me I can stay with them as long as need be...what would I do without all of you????  But my own little house with a yard for the Nanna  just seemed way more enticing.  You don't blame me, do you?  I didn't think so.  :)  Also, I'm trying to make things as easy as possible on Anna,  so having the "fun" of a new room and something to look forward to amidst all the "why's" she has seems like a good thing.  But alas, I rest my case because I'm chasing my tail.  You get the picture.  I know you do. 

Man, if this is the short version, I bet you're glad I didn't give you the longer one, huh?  And maybe I've said too much...I know PiePie would think so, as he is much more private than I am, but yet I will post this anyways and chance that he not see and have his wrath come down upon me.  Why?  Because it's my therapy.  Because this is a place where people who love me from all over the world can come and keep track of me, hence I am keeping track of them!  Because if I'm asking you to pray, shouldn't you know my needs?  OK, so maybe I was *very* specific, but still.  Because I have blogged now for nearly 10 years (how could it be that long!??!) and my life is recorded.  My thoughts are recorded.  And you know, sometimes, I go back and I look at those thoughts, and I see things differently, as one tends to do when looking back at something rather than it looming in front of you, and sometimes I'll see something I said and think,"Geez...I didn't know I was smart enough to come up with that...good one, self!".  And I've come close to not being here, and I know I won't always be here, but my thoughts and feelings can be recorded for my kids.  So there, I plead my case.

So, as you now see if you are still with me, reading the novella that turned into the novel, you can see how, if you were me, the word "devastating" would come into play.  Still, as I look back over my life at the times that were the most devastating to me before, I see how God richly provided for me, us, whatever the case may be, and we came out better on the other end than if the devastation hadn't taken place.  And we grew from it, or at least I'd like to think we did.  This reminds me of the potter and the clay, and how you have to go through the fire to come out beautiful.  (Jeremiah chapter 18 talks about the potter and the clay, in case you are interested.) So, I'm having faith that He isn't going to stop now.  He's got the perfect place for us, and we will heal and we will be OK.  Right now, it is much easier to say it than to believe it, but I'll get there. 

During one of the trying times that we had, back in life number one, I was stressed to the  max, and I'll save you from having to read that story, and just tell you the point.  The verse from the book of Jeremiah kept popping up everywhere.  Chapter 29, verse 11:  "For I know the plans I have for you,"says the Lord,"plans to PROSPER you and not to harm you, plans to give you HOPE and a FUTURE."  You can't argue with that, now, can you???  And so I've clung to that verse since then, thankful to have it in my head, on repeat, helping me keep my cool in troublesome times.   

This time around, during the devastation that is my life at the moment, the word "persevere" has come up more times than I can count, in more ways than I can count, from more people than I can count.  At this point, when I hear that word come out of someone's mouth, I just sort of giggle, because it's like being hit over the head with a brick, until it finally sticks, and God wants me to know, apparently, that I need to persevere. 

My whole first post was going to be about why I chose to name this blog "positivelypersevering".  Like I said in the beginning,  I had no idea what I was going to say, it certainly isn't what came out, and I didn't mean to write a 10,000 page report.  I just wanted to say that I try to remain positive in all situations, because I believe that happiness is a choice. I *choose* whether or not I can find that one, tiny, sometimes minute "at least"....and this go-round, I've had to have a few people flat-out say that to me:  being happy is a choice.  I'm like, I know, I say that all the time, then my brain goes, but wait...you are not practicing what you preach, at which point I think to myself,"Uh-oh!!!" do some revamping of the thoughts, and move right along with a smile on my face.

So, I'm packing up stuff.  From one end of the house back to the other and all over, all by myself, feeling sorry for myself, just being with my thoughts and me, and from somewhere, it hit me that the catchy title I was looking for was right under my nose, or in this instance, being banged over my head.....and so, I will positively persevere through this devastation that is my life, and I will have the faith of a mustard seed that I will come out on the other side of this stronger, better, and wiser than ever before, because my God promised me that future back in Jeremiah.

At least....now that I've written this, I feel better.