Real Thanks Giving

I read something written by YoJ and by Magz this morning, and it touched a place in my heart. Typically, when I write about religion, there are no comments, but I felt compelled to write something just the same, because, as Mother Theresa would say,
"This about you and God, it was never about them anyway".


It was not so many years ago that I didn't feel like I deserved a good husband - or anything good for that matter. I have joked before that I go to Mass every weekend because I have a lot of years of making up to do - but a part of me really believed that. I thought because I had made bad choices, because I had knowingly sinned and chosen to do things that were fun - but wrong, because I had been a disgrace to my family, that I didn't deserve any better. That woman standing behind Jesus while he drew a line in the sand, asking whoever had not sinned to throw the first stone, was someone I really identifyed with. I believed that I had to spend my life helping others be happy, but that my own happiness was to be denied. I have been to the confessional, so I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say, the answer I got back was life altering.

Over and over again, I have come to God only to be met with a look of bewilderment. Why do I want to remember those hurtful things - I said I was sorry, I meant it, I have tried to make things right when I could - and God wonders why, if He could forgive me, that I am not willing to forgive myself. Do I really think I know more than God?

And that started my brain analyzing - do I really think I know more than God - do I really think I should continue to punish myself when He has forgiven something? It reminds me of Job, who questions God only to be reminded that he was not there when God flung the stars to the heavens or decided just how far the ocean would go. As I thought about these things, I realized that most of my bad behavior was a result of trying to be good enough, to be deserving, to be something I was not so that someone would like me. ( I understand this is very common in kids who are adopted or are un-mothered for one reason or another, who feel as though they are never good enough to repay their parents' kindness in adopting them and not leaving them orphaned - who knows if that is true, but it might be)

The first person I slept with, stealing vodka from my folks liquor cabinet, running around at all hours drunk and stupid, marrying men I wasn't in love with, staying even when he was mean - all things that if my daughter did them, I would pitch a fit - just like my folks did. But they all conglomerate - pointing at one thing. A hole in my soul so deep that I would do anything to fill it - or to deaden that feeling so that I didn't notice it. I remember writing a note back to someone I apologized to, saying that I felt like I had be come the very whore he had accused me of being. And that, my friends, is not a good feeling at all. People will do anything to fill up that gap - and we see it all the time - overeating, promiscuity, drugs, alcohol, shopping, or apathy. None of which are very adaptive coping mechanisms.

Once I realized what was wrong, I set about trying to fix it - and for me fixing it meant becoming real - moving from the image I was trying to portray of the well off suburban girl, always with nails and hair and make-up done, ironing my clothes trying to live above my means, always in need of a significant other ----to what was more honestly me - laid back, long haired, stubby fingernails with dirt that doesn't always come out, comfy clothes which allowed me to skip the much-hated ironing, and mascara, I still gotta have the mascara before I go out.

It has been a long process - started just before Jake was born, when I realized that I would probably be raising the kids by myself. But I recognize myself in the mirror - and I like myself a lot more often than I ever did back then.

I am no where near done - as every Act of Contrition reminds me of the dozens of personality aspects that still need work - especially patience.

But for this Thanksgiving, I am most thankful for a second chance. When I was at my lowest, He was there to answer my prayers and give me a hand up - helping me to see that He had been there the whole time, just waiting for me to ask for His help. I am thankful that I believe in a Savior who loves me more than I love myself. I was an ass and He loved me anyway - and filled my days with people who loved me for who I really was. I am thankful for the peace that comes in knowing that whether it is my Grandpa or my Dad or one of my friends, who passes first, there is a place for them to go with beauty that surpasses all understanding. I am thankful because He fills my life with "coincidences" and signs to numerous to mention which give me direction and lead to happiness. He forces me to pay attention to those around me, lest I miss something important. I am thankful that I didn't actually kill myself doing something stupid during those years that I did a lot of stupid things- and of course that the Ogre didn't manage to accomplish that either.

Joyful Woman has written several very moving posts about forgiveness, click over and check them out. I never cease to be amazed at how much we can learn from each other.

But for this year, think for a moment about being thankful that there is a new day dawning, and that with each day, we have the chance to become the kind of person we have always wanted to be.
Just look up.