Friday, September 28, 2012

Chicken scratch,love and,CRAZY!

I spent the morning cleaning and organizing and came across my old journal. I suck at journaling. I check my life history according to old facebook or myspace posts. When reading through my journals I found years missing. Not that nothing important happened. The problem was that when they happened I forgot to write them down. So I spent some time reading my words from February 1997 to April 2006 .It amounted to roughly 70 pages. Not a lot for almost 10 years. There is some work to reading my old stuff. My handwriting is horrible. Once the world turned to computers it ended the hand written word for me. I imagine what my bank must say when they see signed checks..every signature is different. My sad attempt at journaling did yield some comedy though. And sadly not much has changed. There is a lot of anger toward myself for being lazy and not working hard enough. It was like an echo. I did find an entry that was hilarious.

 "Families are like a noose hanging in a 3 foot tall room.
 It'll choke you, but it probably won't kill you" 

HA HA HA! I swear I don't know where I came up with this stuff.

Most of my old writings were sad and about disappointment in myself. And then there were the pages devoted to love and marriage.

"Who would have thought I'd be this woman. Waiting for my husband to come home from war. Obsessing over the direction his shirts are hung, wanting so desperately to please him."

Next month it will be 9 years that Micah and I have been together. To read my words now as a partially callused wife makes me sad. I had a tiny bit of worship going on with the image I had of my husband. But after years of bickering, bills and, babies...well lets just say it has changed some. And as I told you before in Sleeping alone...a love story  ours is hardly a fairytale romance.The tough mama I am now is a little embarrassed by my own words. And what better way to make that feeling expand or disappear than to share it with you.

"He is made of gold, my husband, it shines through him. In the sunlight he glows. There was so much love and goodness in his heart, that God turned it to gold and let it flow out of him. Even his eyes, you can see the gold melt from the fire inside him. Micah is truly the worst and greatest thing that has ever happened to me. In loving him I have lost my sanity and the defenses I worked hard at building. I find now that I'm vulnerable and fragile."

WHOA! And as I'm typing it out...seriously I'm laughing out loud (and maybe gagged a little)

     In Micah's defense I was completely cracked before I ever met him. Funny enough as Micah was shaving the night before he left for work, I watched. I haven't watched him shave in years. As I was watching him shave I was looking at his pale eyelashes and the shimmery hairs on his arms. And in that moment I had a thought, although I didn't tell him and probably shouldn't tell you. I thought to myself " Look, he's still made of gold" The funny thing about gold is it's soft and easily scratched, bent and broken. My husband is nothing like gold he's solid, stoic...like a shield.

    Sometimes it still feels strange that we are married. Like that moment when you look at a word so long, that you convince yourself it must be spelled wrong....and the word is THE. I have those moments where I stand in my dining room and stare at the wall...wondering when I'll see the code of the matrix. Because it doesn't feel real. When did I hit my "thirtysomething" years? When did I become Mommy?

    And then he's there...... beautiful eyes set behind a face that has seen the sun of the desert and, brought back stories never to be told. When we fight I have to stay away from him. Because he knows that all he has to do is hold me. I wasn't lying when I wrote that I lost my defenses with him. I had worked really hard for many years to build a wall so that I would never be hurt. Apparently all the fire inside him that melted the gold that shimmers out of him....well it melted my defenses too.

    His birthday is in a week. And although he blew my birthday......AGAIN

 (I completely wrote that because I know he'll read this)

    I want to do something special for him. I want to remember the girl who wrote those words. And I want her to celebrate him. I think she was more than a tad neurotic and.....I don't know if mushy is a big enough word to use. But she was definitely young.  So I challenge you to go out and reflect on the young person you were. Full of love and ideals. It might make you laugh or even cry. But there has bound to be something there that you had forgotten about. Something that you wish you would recapture just one more time. For me it's a hopeful bride waiting for her beloved. I think I'll go mop the floor now