The Love Dare

This isn't for sissies - or for people who want to do something easy to fix the mess their marriage has become. It is for people who want one more chance - who believe in love - who believe that there is no gain in life without pain preceding it. We are so quick to walk out and look for the bigger better deal. Perhaps it is as Reverand Graham says: God is trying to teach you something about your life and your character through your marriage.

Three weeks ago we finally got some insight into what was going on in our household and found that it was not anything that some medication wouldn't help. So the medication started. And there was hope again.

Then there was what looked like secrecy - thus the post below. Big walls I have built- and scaling them will not be easy. Remember the fortress around your heart song - Sting sang it back when I was still young and thin. Seems like that is where we are right now.

The day I wrote that I prayed for peace. Lord when will there be peace in my life...
And I heard one of the producers of the Fireproof movie talk about how it was working miracles in people's lives. I made the choice to get the Love Dare book. The first bookstore didn't have it. I had the choice to skip it and just go home. But I didn't, I stopped at a second store and they had dozens of copies. I got one for me and one for Justin. Forty days of lessons - forty days of opportunity to make it work. And for a moment I debated whether it was worth the $14 for the books. I bought them and prayed that I would be much stronger than I think I am - at least strong enough to see how much of my own crap (and don't we all have our own crap) was getting in the way of making peace in the house. Not a task for sissies. On the way out of the store there were two rainbows to the east, which seemed to follow me all the way home. I believe it was a confirmation that I was doing the right thing - maybe it was just a coincidence, but I don't believe in coincidence - I believe in a God who likes to let me know when I am headed the right way.

We started the book - and I was still hesitant. Anyone who has been reading has seen the great descent of the past three years. It has not been pretty. But we know that there are three things that last - faith, hope and love - and the greatest of these is love. See, to me faith has never been a cafeteria-style thing - either you believe in Him and what he says to be true - the miracle of forgiveness - the miracle of a loving God who knows who I really am and STILL loves me- the blessing of redemption - or you don't. If I believe all of those things are true for me- and my life has certainly borne them out - then they are true for all the people God loves - even if I am miffed at them.

So a week into the book, my heart is changing - I am feeling more hopeful. There is the outside possibility that I may even be able to let my guard down enough to be in love again - still working on that one. At the very least I will feel like I have given everything I have to salvage my marriage and keep the promise I made - and we could go in peace. At best we could have what the counselor suggested - a new marriage with the same two people - and best of all - PEACE.

Spe Salvi

Marriage is a very difficult thing for some of us. Be it a strong will or an overabundance of romantic ideation - the day to day acceptance of a life that has fallen short of my expectations is often hard to bear - feeling hopeless and pointless and a dozen other lesses.

When Dad passed away, I stopped going to church. I didn't blame God exactly, it is just that everything about the Mass reminded me of him. It took months before I could sit through Mass without tearing up.

I am going again - and God is hearing me a lot more often - but my heart still feels calloused - like I just can't take any more pain - like there is an aspect of staying married that I fear - well no kidding - I am afraid of getting hurt again. But fear is the absence of faith.

Last night I was doing some reading for CCD class and I came across a Papal Encyclical. I thought I'd post it here - as much for me as for anyone else - to remind me that in all things there is hope.


ENCYCLICAL LETTER SPE SALVI OF THE SUPREME PONTIFFBENEDICT XVI TO THE BISHOPS PRIESTS AND DEACONS MEN AND WOMEN RELIGIOUS AND ALL THE LAY FAITHFUL ON CHRISTIAN HOPE

Introduction
1. “SPE SALVI facti sumus”—in hope we were saved, says Saint Paul to the Romans, and likewise to us (Rom 8:24). According to the Christian faith, “redemption”—salvation—is not simply a given. Redemption is offered to us in the sense that we have been given hope, trustworthy hope, by virtue of which we can face our present: the present, even if it is arduous, can be lived and accepted if it leads towards a goal, if we can be sure of this goal, and if this goal is great enough to justify the effort of the journey. Now the question immediately arises: what sort of hope could ever justify the statement that, on the basis of that hope and simply because it exists, we are redeemed? And what sort of certainty is involved here?

Back to my roots

I had to get a new car - a Jeep to be more exact - and one of the perks is that I get a year of free satellite radio. This morning I heard the most interesting commentary on the Catholic channel. Don't let that steer you away - it was interesting.



The commentator said we are at war - and not just in the many places around the world. We are in teh midst of a spiritual war. The objective is clear - stay on your path, avoid sin, be pious, be holy, and get to heaven, bringing as many with you as you can. If we fail the ramifications are far worse than those prison camps we still hear about from Vietnam - there is loss and sorrow and despair and Hell isn't a short term prison - it is for eternity.

Can you mend a broken heart? I don't think our company makes those.

I remember several years ago during that long stretch that I was alone raising three kids, listening to Dr Dobson on the radio talking about how love works. I though it was very profound when he described it like a flowering plant. He said love needed water and light and nourishment to keep growing. Like any plant, it can take a bit of difficulty - cold spells, drought and even some tough storms. If those things come to close together and there isn't time to recover, the plant starts to die - even if it wants to stay living very very badly.

No one, least of all me, wants to see a litany of the substantial loss we incurred last year. And yet those who ignore their history are bound to repeat it. I'm tired of the same mistakes and am moving closer to accepting that my mom may in fact be correct - that I am too strong willed to be married to someone.

I have tried to keep positive, be supportive, be the strong one - but there is only so long you can go without water - only so long you can hold up those branches without support. Pretty soon you start doing more and more on your own, telling yourself that once again you stink at being a wife. If I were any good at it he would rise to the occasion - at least that is what people have said - be supportive, be kind, cover things until he is able. I inflict the pain on myself in addition to that which is left to me. The days drag on and the work piles up- dishes in need of washing - a carport still stacked with crap - clothes not put away from the wash three weeks ago - and the worse it gets the further away I pull.

There is the inability to do what I do by nature - encourage, forgive, laugh - like my hydrangeas during the drought who kept trying to bloom only to have those beautiful attempts at blue flowers come out pale and brown way too soon. It seems that whatever I do to try to get back to that relationship I thought I had - to get back to where love exist and trust and honesty prevail - well those attmepts seem to just make it worse. I am always apologizing and after so much loss, I cannot be left again. When things don't go well, it is easier to just pull up roots and run.

That is what I am good at - starting over.

So for this moment, I give up. Whatever force in the universe has deemed that I should never love someone who loves me back - who laughs at the cruel joke of breaking my heart once again - well you win. I am so so tired and apparently I am not ever going to be enough and whateveI have tried is futile. So laugh your ass off cruel fate, I will no longer be your victim.
I will be mother to three beautiful children, I will come home, play mother for 6 hours after working the last 10 and I will go to sleep alone - never again feeling the comfort of a man. I will be good to my patients, I will go feed the homeless on Saturday and give my time to the Church on Sunday and hope will not be taken from me.

The Taskpad

My dad was notorious for his lists - taskpads that were posted all over to remind him - to keep him organized - to help him focus. He spent his life taking care of us - making sure things were done - and I have this feeling that he is still doing just that.

It was only moments after my dad breathed his last that things started changing.

I have believed for a long time that he had paid any semblance of a price with all the days of pain and the grace with which he accepted his lot in life - so that when I was time for him to go, I think he went straight there.

Over Father's Day weekend, we took my daughter's boyfriend with us. When we were leaving he told them goodbye and that it was probably the last time they would see him. The boyfriend acted as though this was an important trip for him to accompany us on - and frankly, I thought he was going to ask my dad's permission to marry her. That didn't happen - but Dad seemed to like this guy and we thought he had potential. It was within the first half hour after Dad died that she found out he had been sleeping with an old girlfriend. The coincicence had been lost until we were talking about it last night. I reminded her that my dad had assumed the responsibility to be her guardian from her first days - and that I can't imagine he would give up that role after death. Her face grew pale as she realized that her revelation into who this man really was came moments after Dad was able to see who he really was as well.

That same influence has come over Josh as well - a quiet reassurance - a realization that who he is at 16 is a foundation for the man he will be some day. He was named after his grandfather - and has that same quick wit and intelligence that Dad had. His eulogy was beautiful - and his realization that a man can live a great life without ever getting accolades for it - seems to be shifting his attitude back to the person I have always known.

After the first week we were back, things for Jake have improved dramatically at school. Several issues resolved themselves and he has some buddies to hang out with at lunch. This is a way bigger deal than it looks just typed out.

I find that Mass is more precious - though I don't think I am at a point where I honor my Dad's memory very well yet. I still have moments where I feel sad - where the tears come - where I don't have a good reason behind how I am feeling. I find that I am short tempered with my husband - and that at times I am more inclined to remind my family that they don't have the luxury of falling apart - and that they need to get their stuff together. But I call my mother, I try to keep my family intact and fed and clothed - and I am trying to help those patients I can reach. Guess that is all I can do - but it doesn't seem like much most days.


I was reading today about my friend Dale, and the lady who has entered his life after a long stretch of being alone - not sure if Dad had anything to do with that, but I'd like to think he went to bat for Dale and asked God to cut him some slack - we aren't designed to be alone, you know.

when someone shows you who they really are, you should believe them.

Hey Paul

So the last week or so I have been all about doing projects - trying to keep my hands busy so that my head and heart don't hurt. So last night, since there was no football practice, Jake and I took to the woods to clear out some of the damage from the fall storms.



One of these wind burst knocked a tree branch down and it shattered my windshield.

I wasn't in it - so perhaps my guardian angel has some help these days. True or not, it makes me feel better to think that my dad is watching out for us. Now if he could have gotten the windshield replaced for free - instead of couple of hundred dollars I had to spend to replace it - but that is another story.



Anyway - our house is bordered by about an acre and a half of old stand pine forest - which hasn't been cleaned out for years before we moved there. We have three major piles now of pine tree segments = you know 8 to 16 foot segments - piled up so that at some point we can make furniture - or a house - or a split rail fence - something other than mulch with all these trees. As I was walking around tossing more trees on the pile, I realized there were a lot of dead pine trees still standing. Roots no longer attached really - and in several spots, leaning against the tree next to them. Not a big deal unless you are talking about a 20-30 foot tree - and we are. Visions of kids running through the woods and being smushed by those trees as they tipped over at a most in opportune moment whirred through my head.



So I did what any Loner would do - I knocked them over. With my shoulders. Until my arms were scratched up and there were no dead pine trees standing.



I'm not sure if that makes me Paul bunyon.... or Babe the Blue Ox.

well, did you think I fell off the Earth - me too.

First I must publicly thank Jerry and Nora for coming to my dad's viewing. They figured it wasn't that far to drive up to Logansport - and on that not so great day it was good to see a familiar face. Funnier still when Nora's dad realized that he knew a bunch of my dad's family - funny how folks are in small towns. It was so kind of you two to come - thanks.

Thanks also to those of you who sent me a note - the first weeks have been spent in typical form - working until I pass out. You see I have discovered that if it really stings - and you need to clear your head - hard work keeps the adrenaline flowing - and keeps your mind to busy to feel sad.

There have been a couple of revelations, though so this begins the writing again. Hopefully I won't bore you to tears!

I realized about a week ago that my dad now knows what happened to the Pinto. Have I not told you that infamous story - well kiddos - here goes - but it need a little preface. For any of you who do not know me in person, I am not a bitty girl - I do everything big - I don't walk quietly - and I talk really loud - though not intentionally. So - here goes.

I learned to drive in a 1973 Ford Pinto with manual transmission. Going to high school at Cathedral, my dad wanted to make sure I could get up that hill okay in the manual - so we drove up and down that thing - stopping midway - just letting up on the clutch a little and killing the car about a million times - until I got that thing to work. Then and only then would my daddy let me drive it to school. I loved that car and drove the tar out of it.

One afternoon, though, I came home, parked the car and when I went to put the gearshift into neutral position - the whole gearshift fell off. Just tipped over. I was stunned.
So I did what any daddy's girl would do - I interrupted himin the office and told him that the gear shift fell off and that I didn't do anything to it.

This resulted in about 15 minutes worth of debate and my wounded pride refused to admit that I had done anything - though as an adult I can see that I must have just worn the poor thing out by shoving it into the gears - but I still contend that I didn't do anything.

Years later every time we would talk about Heaven I would tell him that someday when he got there he would know I really didn't do anything to that gearshift in the Pinto.

Two weekends ago, I was driving my brother in laws pickup - a stickshift - and the top of the gearshift popped off. And I started laughing - a good deep belly laugh - followed by the always near to the surface tears - and I thought just how funny it was that now he knows I didn't do anything to the Pinto when the gearshift fell off.

Heavy Hearts and Joyful Spirits

It is with a heavy heart that I tell you of the passing of my father, Dave Loner, on this past Sunday. As was his way, he waited until Mom and Davey had gone to run an errand, he bathed, dried his hair then laid down and died peacefully. No fuss. No drama just him - and Him in the final moments.
We are with my mom now, helping in the little ways that we can, to get ready for the funeral on Thursday. It feels good to be here - and yet -it is so terribly sad.
And there is no question that he was ready - that he was tired of the pain and the battle and that he knew without question Who waited for him on the other side of that pain. There is more to write, but since only two hours of sleep have blessed me since I got the news last night, and a 12 hour car ride with three kids has added to my fatigue, I'll wait and write that another day.
God Bless.

If you pray for Rain, bring an umbrella

If you have a minute, say a prayer for us - not for vindication, but for the temperence of justice and mercy. We have court this morning, and I can't do anything but hope for an opportunity to sort things out.


Psalm 130
Out of the depths of my despair, I cry to you O Lord
O Lord, hear my voice
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy
If you, O lord, kept a record os sins,
O Lord who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness;
therefore you are feared

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in His word, I place my hope

My soul waits for the lord
more than watchmen wait for morning

Put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love
and with Him is full redemption.