maybe this is my new normal
I still choose indoors over outdoors, even on a gorgeous day. I still come to life when I talk about vision, passion, and Thrive Africa.
I still make strange faces (and noises) without even realizing it. I still love deeply.
For the most part, I’m still the same me I was before my world shattered out from under my feet.
For the most part.
But there are a lot of ways I’m a different person than I was before my husband left me.
Emotional trauma changes us.
It changed me.
My life is forever split between before and after.
And after-me isn’t the same as before-me.
Some of the changes are healthy, good, freeing.
But many aren’t.
I “lived tired” before, but I still kept a fast (and full) rhythm in life and ministry. Now I simply don’t have the energy to keep even half that pace. I’ve taken living tired to a whole new level while doing far less in a day than I’ve ever done.
My heart is more tender and my skin is less thick. Things that shouldn’t hurt me, hurt me. My emotions are all over the place. I can spiral from high to low very quickly. And that scares me for a long list of reasons I’ll never be able to share in this space.
Trust has always been the Achilles’ heel of my life. But now I physically feel the fear of trusting in a way I can’t even begin to describe.
I get overwhelmed far easier. By to-do lists, emails, appointments, the pile of books I want to read… everything. It all just overwhelms me. And by overwhelm, I mean incapacitate.
I tell people I have Fuzzy Brain Syndrome. I lose my concentration. I’m constantly distracted. I can’t remember things—things I should remember. Things I want to remember. I so often can’t even think of the word I’m trying to say. Not just occasionally. Frequently.
I’m just not the same person I used to be.
And, to be honest, I don’t like who I’ve become.
I’m living with diminished capacity.
It’s frightening, frustrating, angering, and crazy-making all at the same time.
And I’m starting to think it might not be temporary.
Maybe this isn’t something I can bounce back from.
Maybe this is my new normal.
Which means I need to face yet another loss.
The loss of … me.
Of who I am. How I am.
Before I can accept who I’ve become, I need to grieve the loss of who I was.
I need to let go of before-me.
And trust that God can still make something beautiful out of after-me.
Just a thought from a girl who can relate to a before/after life: think about how you’re living a NOW life. You’ve already lived the before, but you don’t really know what the after holds. You only know the now. Right now, fuzzy brain is your normal, but a month from now, you might be completely different. I used to think I was always adapting and and creating my normal… but that was really just me trying to control and anticipate.
Now, instead of adapting, I just try to be present. Tomorrow might be better than today. Or it might be worse. But it’s where you are and that’s where we will all be with you.
I like that advice, Alece. Live in the NOW.
i thought of you the whole time i was writing this, fritz. because you, more than anyone i know, can relate to having a before/after. part of me felt guilty for saying what i was saying, because i know you’ve experienced this to a far greater extreme than i have. and the rest of me knew you’d have some good wisdom for me, as you always do.
you are my greatest example for living with the effects of a before/after dividing line — you inspire me and challenge me. thank you for showing me the way.
I get that divide of before and after. In a lot of ways it is hard to describe. This knowing I am different, but having trouble articulating it. I remember in the week after my abuse came to light looking in the mirror and not recognizing the person looking back at me. She was a complete stranger. I knew in that moment that my life would never be the same that it would be separated by a before and after.
This weekend I watched Sleepless in Seattle and I was struck by this quote, “Well, I’m gonna get out of bed every morning… breath in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won’t have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breath in and out… and, then after a while, I won’t have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.”
I feel like I am at the point in my life where I no longer have to remind myself to get out of bed, to breathe, to put one foot in front of the other. I am no longer going through the motions of life. I have begun to live. Yes some days are hard, but slowly this new life, this “after” life just becomes your life now. And you catch yourself looking in the mirror and you’re mesmerized by this new woman starting back at you. You’ll see her strength, and resilience, and her inner beauty. You’re gonna get there too.
your mirror moment seemed so familiar to me. the day i “pulled the cord” (confronted my husband with undeniable proof of his affair), i paused in the minutes before, overwhelmed with the sense that i was about to change my life forever.
that “sleepless” quote is perfect. i also am past the point of having to remind myself to breathe (most days), which now, looking back, is great progress. i know i’ve “bounced back” from some of the changes i’ve experienced over the past 15 months. (i can’t believe it’s been that long….) but the rest… i dunno.
i need Him to give me eyes to see strength in the midst of such glaring weakness.
alece,
you are in a season where you need God to restore you… your trust, your hope and your strength. BE in this season. don’t worry about losing your old self… God is constantly changing who you are – trust in that. keep seeking Him. lean on your friends. God has put them in your life for a reason and they want to be there for you. and you never know… the new you might be ten times better than you ever imagined!
be brave, friend…
anna
Kitty…
I realized as I read this that I was shaking my head “no”. I hear your heart… but dare I say I hear His heart louder… that He will not carry you through to the other side of this season of life and have you be “less” you…
…it’s not who you’ve “become”… it’s your process of “becoming”
…it’s not that God “will” make something beautiful… it’s that YOU ARE someone beautiful.
…it’s the “healthy, good, freeing” changes that are a foundation, not an end point… to this journey of restoration that you’re on.
… it’s not that He uses some things for His glory… but ALL things… and that means ALL things in you… before AND after. When God returns our sanity… He makes us better than before (Daniel 4:36/7)… not less.
I love you.
amen.
… and amen.
Agreed wholeheartedly with Amy has said. Also shaking my head no as I read through this post…..
Give yourself more credit, let yourself go through this process, knowing you will come out of it for the better. He is not done with you yet, trust that what He is molding you into will be so amazing, IS so amazing.
Reading this makes me want to scoop you up and hug you in my most motherly of ways. ;o) Love you!
agreed…
I was all setup to write what I thought was a very thought-provoking (and probably long-winded) comment, but I think Amy has pretty much summed it up amazingly.
Hang in there seems like a cop out statement, but I believe it to be true. God has only promised to build us up through our struggles. Where you are now is really tough, I know exactly what you’re talking about, and God will use this time to build you up for something greater than before. (I don’t know how he’s going to top what you’re already doing for his kingdom, but he will.)
amen.
…I love seeing how connected our hearts are for Alece…
can I hear an amen! haha =]
A
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and amen and amen and amen!
thank you, kitty. sigh… i’m gonna be clinging to that daniel passage, asking the Lord to “restore my sanity”…
i love you.
You’ve undergone ‘heart surgery’. Even the simplest surgery has ongoing impact, and even though we may be able to function soon enough, it’s not the same. There is grief, shock, adaptation. Maybe one day, there will be a return to ‘normal’, but sometimes that can take such a long and circuitous route, that when we reach our former normal, everything else has changed.
And who’s to say that the normal before was really even normal? Maybe instead of losing you, you are actually finding you, and the new and deeper strengths and tenacity that God is giving you? Just maybe ‘living tired’ isn’t how God wants your life to be??
I’ve had an old hymn in my head for the past few weeks (which is unusual, even for me!) while my husband & I go through our own shifting and departure from our previous comforts and lifestyle:
“Yesterday, today, forever, Jesus is the same.
All may change, but Jesus never! Glory to His Name!”
He is our only constant. And what an amazing constant He is. We sometimes look at that as something fearful, or something that would make our lives ‘less than’ everyone elses…but in His hands He holds the whole world, and in Him, we’re never ‘less than’, because He is MORE than enough.
“He is our only constant. And what an amazing constant He is.” thank you for the beautiful reminder to keep my heart anchored only in Him.
Your story is the same as those in my family, in close friends and in our church family. What have we done all in the name of self satisfaction. I consider myself one of the ‘lucky ones’ as my marriage too hit a wall. Thank God we laid down all of our differences, pride, selfishness and worked thru it to come out on the other side more alive. But when I see the devastation, and receive those late night calls from a sister who is also struggling with ‘the new normal’ my heart is broken. Thank God he is still faithful and true. For if not, where would our faith be. Praying for you and your marriage, and even through this devastation, He would draw even closer to you. Thank you for your honesty and vulneralbility. These posts help those who are waking up each day to the new normal
Not to minimize the journey you are on, rather to let you know you are loved and not alone I will say what I was thinking as I read. The feelings you describe here are exactly how I felt the first three times I got pregnant, throughout the pregnancies and after the kids were born. We all must adjust to new normals. I feel you. I am proud to call you my sister. I love you. Please let me know what I can do or say to help you. I like you and I love you, Alece. fyp.
I was thinking the same thing about me and pregnancies and her fuzzy brain syndrome.
Thank you for writing this and I am exactly where you are now. Although I am pretty tired of the “fuzzy brain syndrome” just when I think it’s going away- I make another mistake at work.
i’m both appreciative and heartbroken that you resonate with how i feel. i’m sorry. i know how crazy-making it can be.
I hear you! We all have those before and after selves. Most of us will experience this more than a few time throughout our lives. Granted some shifts are greater than others and require more “getting used to.”
If you haven’t already done so, memorized Philippians 1:6. That’s my advice. Rest in the fact that God has a plan and a purpose for you that no one and no thing can destroy.
From seeing the interaction here @gritandglory, it’s very apparent that you have wonderful friends to support and love you, no matter WHO you are.
Welcome to your new self – I know you will be happy together! :-)
I am grateful for His promise to finish the work He’s begun in me. I think the tension I feel inside is my need to come to grips with the finishing He has in mind. It comes down to trust. I need to trust that although His finishing right now feels like less, like weakness, like diminished capacity, that somehow it is for my good and for His glory.
Like Mother Teresa said, I don’t need clarity—I need to trust.
I need to trust. I need to trust. I need to trust.
Alece,
I don’t know that what you are experiencing is temporary or your new normal. I know it is frustrating to experience change though. I am sorry that this has seemed to have changed you in ways that frustrate you.
I will keep praying for you. I will keep praying that God restores everything the devil has stolen from you.
LOVE
i feel as if i could written this post. every last word. i am not going to tell you how it’s going to get better or tell you not to lose hope that your new normal will better than your former normal or that your fuzzy brain will get better. deep down somewhere, i believe you already know those things. what i will say is that you’re on the right path knowing that you need to grieve. that was a part of the process i skipped over for a long time. i wrote a post about the grieving (http://theperch-sheryl.blogspot.com/2008/08/grieving-loss-of-my-life.html)
it’s just hard, this life of before and after. in some capacity i believe we all might have markers that define our life into before and after. for some, though, those markers are all “good” ones. this is what i choose to believe in my own life….because i believe that the God of the Bible is the same God who loves me….ANYTHING that God has chosen to allow into my life, He has allowed because He can bring better from it.
i love you. i get you. i mourn with you. as hard as it is, this process you’re going through will all be worth it. in the meantime, we are all here with you cheering you on.
I’m thinking if you keep taking risks like this, the new you will eventually be fearless and more passionate! The new you will be strong knowing where she came from and who her foundation is! The new you will operate in freedom, knowing no matter what comes her way, she will be okay. The new you, emotions and all, will having a compassion and understanding to those that she comes in contact with…her love will come from places of knowing, from places of having been hurt but healed, from places of sorrow to joy…she’ll understand. I’m reminded of that scripture, Is. 43:2…”even when you walk through the fire, you will not be burned.”
The glorious thing about a new normal that is made of a “weaker” you, is that it means God will be that much stronger in you and through you…which is exactly what you’ve been praying for yourself and your Africa.
“I am broken
by Your mercy
For it’s here in my weakness You show Your power
You take my pieces
Fit me together
Re-creating a me I never knew…”
God can take every piece of your “before-me” and make it into something greater than you can imagine. Every part of who you were is shaping every part of who you are becoming and He is totally.aware.of.it.all. He sees into those dark, scary places – those lonely, afraid and “fuzzy” places. And He.loves.YOU. He will shape you into what He wants and that person, my sweet Alece, will be a strong, amazing, beautiful woman of God.
It’s okay to grieve.
It’s okay to be afraid.
It’s okay to wonder what she’ll be like.
It’s all part of the process.
((Hugs))
xxx M.
it felt so good to hear “it’s okay…”
thank you,
It’s terrifying waking up one morning and realizing you aren’t who you were. You look in the mirror and see the same features staring back at you but you don’t recognize the being. You don’t know how to get your former self back but since she was all you knew, you continue to compare old self and now self. That comparison is scary and frustrating. You think ‘I can do that, I’ve always done that’ and when the time comes to execute ‘that’ you realize, shockingly, that ‘that’ won’t get done…even tho you’ve done it a thousand times. It’s a process of taking the time to get to know your new self while also grieving your old self. Remembering your old self for who she was, what she did, and who she could have become but ALSO having the chance to improve her. It is a mourning process and there will be days when you want old self back because she was comfortable and safe. Because you could anticipate her thoughts, emotions, capabilities, desires, passions. If you don’t take the time to get to know this new self, you’ll never accept her and give her the chance to blossom. I know it’s scary. I know it’s tiring (believe me, I know). There will always be a tangible, unavoidable split between old and present self. But so many of these changes in you will bring about life and community (hello grit and glory community!) and one day you’ll wake up and know that this change brought about good. Ask God to reveal this new self to you, i didn’t do that when my schism happened. I wish I did. Instead, I fought her, hated her, and was terrified of her for a long time. But now, now I like this new self…even though she sometimes still frustrates me :) . I’ll be praying.
I’m with Ashley. That Sleepless in Seattle quote has always stood out to me too. And I’ve lived it. I have had days were the pain felt so intense getting out of bed was hard. And I couldn’t see how life would again be joy-ful. But slowly but surely God repairs what is broken in us and helps us forgive and forget (albeit never completely, we do forget the intensity of the trauma.) You will find your stride soon…you are right on the cusp (aside: that word might need to be added to our list). I can feel it.
“And we know that in ALL THINGS God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose”
definitely add cusp to the list!
i need to remember that that verse even means my all things.
So… I know you probably won’t believe me, but I don’t think this is your new normal. Not to diminish what you’re saying is your new “now” – but it won’t last forever.
You’re in the midst of a major life trauma. One that saps the life of our soul. One that takes a long long time to recover from.
But you will recover. You will get your memory back. Your inner strength. Your thick skin.
I’m confident of it.
maybe i need to call it my now normal…
and thank you for being confident for me.
Maybe this is God’s growth for you…search for Him, He will never let you down. He has a perfect plan. Exciting!
I know better to read other people’s comments before making my own, but I do it anyway.
Since what I wanted to say is completely gone now, let me suggest this: maybe there is no such thing as normal.
The whole fuzzy brain paragraph is my life. I KNOW I’ve hurt a lot of people with my forgetfulness, because most people remember what is important to them. I don’t remember what is important. Or maybe not all of it.
I don’t remember what we talked about my last night in South Africa. I remember how I felt: safe, loved, understood, encouraged. But I SHOULD remember words. It was that kind of night.
I don’t remember all the people that have helped me. I recently found a list I had the foresight to make of the people who had helped me out that first year or so and I was shocked at what I had forgotten.
And I don’t think you’ve lost yourself. You certainly have lost who you thought you were, but how satisfied were you with her anyway?
I didn’t mean for this to be so long, but one last opinion. I don’t think your heart is necessarily easily hurt and your skin less thick (at least not in all cases maybe), but you are dealing head on with the fear and trust issues you’ve always had (as you mentioned) instead of burying them under layers. Your reactions now are more immediate, but you are dealing with it now instead of saving it for later. I think that’s pretty exciting.
I’m so glad you’re sharing all of this. It can’t be easy, but you know it’s good.
Wow. I think Natalie is spot on, here. She reminds me of something written by Lidj, an older woman who blogs in the Phillipines. (I don’t know if I’ve seen you over there or not, Alece, so I don’t know if you follow her blog.) Anyway, she wrote:
“Somehow, expecting the unexpected has become the norm or standard in my life. Doing so has kept rigor mortis from setting into my heart. It’s the only description that I can think of at this point. And yes, I’d rather be prepared for the unexpected than live my daily life on the “business as usual” basis. It keeps my heart tender, flexible, and above all, undemanding…just ready to live a life abandoned to what the Master asks of me.”
i can’t remember words or specifics either. of things i probably should. i know i forget things about those i love, and i hate that because i know it communicates the very opposite of my heart. it makes me so sad to think i’m sending the wrong message because of my fuzzy brain.
i hadn’t thought about what you said in that last paragraph before. maybe you’re right. maybe because i’m being more intentional to deal with my fears, insecurities, and mistrusts, my heart feels more consistently tender. i don’t know, but thank you for helping me look at all that in a new light. i’m gonna be thinking about that for a while.
i hug you, talia.
You described me in this post. I can understand because this is exactly how I feel. For me, this describes my depression. I am still in the mix where I cannot see the good God is doing. Praying for you my friend. God is far from finished with either of us! He promises us hope and a good future!
Hold tight to Him! The new you will be even more stunning than you are now!
I don’t know if this will help any, I guess I’m hoping all those nice things you’ve said you actually meant…but…you only know the after-me.
Everyone in blogland only knows the after-me. It angers me at times that none of my “new” friends know what I was capable of accomplishing, or my abilities to speak and teach, before the shattering took place in my family’s life. And somehow, I don’t feel it’s appropriate for me to talk about the past. It was shattered so completely that it almost feels like another lifetime ago…
It is hard to be different, knowing what you’ve lost. And the grieving will take a long long time, to be perfectly honest. But that’s okay. As much as you won’t enjoy it, He’s using every moment to bring you to where He wants you to be. All in His time.
Remember Joseph…what a story to realize all He can accomplish through brokenness.
He truly is strong in our weakness…
Michelle… I SO understand this. I can’t tell you how long it took before I stopped telling everyone, “Oh, you didn’t know me then. I was…”
I think that’s why it’s hard for me to look physically different now. I want people to see the me I always knew, and so many never will. It’s an odd thing, isn’t it?
It’s very strange, indeed, Gitz. Sometimes I feel like two totally different people. I know who I was has a LOT to do with who I am today, but wow…it is amazing how different life can be.
Although I’m not glad for your circumstance, it is good to be understood. Thank you, friend.
I’m with a few others… I think this is still temporary. It is taking far longer than you would like. I get the sense you are hearing from the enemy, “You can’t do this. It will take too much. You’ll never be able to fully stand.”
Rest in the full power of Jesus. I know the “fuzzy brain syndrome” can be so frustrating. Its irritating because you want to just have clarity. I myself have found as God has pulled me out of several pits, that He pulls me out and takes out my capacity so that I stay near to Him so that He can speak truth into my heart and when He has healed and strengthened me, only then does He give me back the capacity. I am better off than before and even in the freedom to walk in the spacious places (2 Sam 22:20) I prefer to walk nearer to Him.
Take heart friend, He is faithful
You know, that Keith Green song “So You Wanna Go Back to Egypt” popped into my head as I thought about your post & my own experience. I remember that ugly “in-between” time. Scary scary place to be – very uncomfortable & disconcerting. In the process of “becoming”. It never looks good in the middle of it all. Feels crappy, too. Transformation with no anesthetic.
I guess that what helps is having people around you who care about you enough to listen, not judge, to hand you the Cherry Garcia & a spoon, and remind you you’re not alone, that you will survive. You’ll do more than that – you’ll kick butt!
Sweet Alece, it is a process. Dynamic – never static…although it might feel like you’re mired in the sucky mud that can pull you down and swallow you whole. I really didn’t like the look of me during the process. But…I much prefer the After to the Before. I like her more. Much much more!! Even though, during it all, I would have paid real $$ to go back to Before. I had no clue what After would look like. I guess I didn’t need to know. Just needed to trust the One with the plan.
And it’s still going on. My life is different. I’m different. I refuse to visit the What Could Have Been graveyard (very often – sometimes there are involuntary trips. I try to cut ‘em short when I realize where I’m at). I just want to live. Transformed.
Earlier this year I was given the most amazing devotional book ever, it’s called The One Year book of Inspirations for Girlfriends…juggling not-so-perfect, often-crazy, but gloriously real lives. It’s a mouthful lol but reading it everyday has helped me and encouraged me so much. Here’s one that I really liked and that helped me to move forward. Hope it helps. I’m super proud of you, you can get through this, we both can :)
Finding Your Joy – Letting Go of Yesterday
We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Sometimes we have our joy, only to misplace it. There are as many ways for joy to elude us as there are personalities in the world, but one way we lose it is by not being present in the now. We spend so much time thinking about where we should have been, where we need to be, what we need to do, and how we’re going to do it that we forget about right now. We’re not going to get this second back, so why are we such poor stewards of this moment?
Notice, I didn’t say be in the moment. I want you to be in “this moment”. I want you to begin to recognize when you have a “this moment” with your family, your peers at work, your friends. I’ve found that it is very difficult to be in this moment if we’re constantly plagued with thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow.
Don’t let your past haunt your now. What happened yesterday, last month, or last year cannot be undone. It happened; and it was probably sad and very unfair. Thinking about, dwelling on, and reliving the past – one created by you or for you – will only rob you of joy today. Joy is a state of contentment that cannot be affected by outside forces. Remember: yesterday is an outside force.
“I cried out to the Lord, and he answered me from his holy mountain. I lay down and slept, yet I woke up in safety, for the Lord was watching over me.” Psalm 3:4-5
Are you willing to let it go? Notice I asked if you were willing. Most of us are capable but have become so comfortable rolling around in our tormented pasts that we’ve come to relish our “victomhood.”
What will you choose? The agony of yesterday or the joy of today?
I think of the story in Ezekiel, of how God breathed LIFE into the dry bones, not only resurrecting them, but seeing to the complete and total rehabilitation, every ligament and tendon was snapped back into place.
Death is the ultimate before and after. Though, in the natural, death IS the after. The power of God, however uses death as a catalyst to infuse NEW LIFE into us.
Your fuzzy brain reminds me of when Jesus healed the blind man & upon asking him what he saw the blind man told Jesus, “I see men like trees”. Meaning while he could now see, his sight was still skewed, and so Jesus prayed AGAIN. Fuzziness is a step in your healing, it’s on the way to clarity… The ‘death’ of your old self gives place for the power of God to PERSONALLY touch you, snapping every ligament and tendon into placing and putting His own bone marrow (His JOY!) into every fiber of your spirit. He brings nourishment to the dryness of our souls…a drenching of the Holy Spirit will change you in ways nothing else ever could.
i love that story in ezekiel. i need to camp out there again, because i want to be able to trust Him to breathe His life back into my dry bones.
Sometimes the most difficult thing to do is believe the Spirit is working even when we don’t always feel it. His power will not shut off because u feel weak. It only increases. Rest in his power. It’s why he came.
What you are describing sounds like chronic stress..the fuzzy brain, the fatigue, etc is probably a result of this traumatic situation. Stand firm in the knowledge that while you may feel different right now, you are still the same princess God created you to be and very soon, as He heals your heart, you will see that princess emerge…stronger than ever. (((hugs))) and prayers
I believe it’s a season of your life. I believe you’re in a phase of grief. You’ll enter a new phase. When the grief has run its course, you’ll wake up one day and it won’t be following you around all day, hanging over your head and wrapped around your heart. You’ll be free. You’ll still remember what happened and how you felt. But it won’t hold you like it once did.
You’ll still be you. You won’t feel the same lethargy and you won’t feel so overwhelmed and trust will not be so difficult to come by. This will pass. For now, it’s okay to be exactly where you are though. I don’t think this is your new, permanent normal. It may be “normal” for a phase but not for forever.
On the other end of my grief, I’m still me. Except I believe I’m a better me. Thank God for making something new out of the heap of ashes! This is very rambling. Hope I’m making sense!
Hey …
Amanda and I are just now getting to know you and forgive me if I approach this awkwardly, but I agree with Elaina – much of what you describe sounds like grief; a natural and healthy process of moving beyond something like this.
You may not FEEL very strong but you embody strength by writing such raw and real – okay, gritty – words as the ones above. May I be so bold as to say I don’t think this is your new normal. I think this is just a path you’re walking now and you’re doing a beautiful job of confronting it in all its pain and discomfort.
Becoming Christ-like is what we do when we choose to follow Him. One attribute of His is being acquainted with grief. You will be able to say with clarity and conviction at some point as this moves along that you’ve not only shook hands with grief, you’ve hung out with it.
I hope and trust this will do nothing but produce more Christ-likeness in your life over time and Lord willing, serve you well in any future mission work you might do.
We appreciate you and your example to us. I trust God is not finished with you yet and will make something you can’t even comprehend out of this season in your life.
Diminished capacity. Ah, yes. I have this syndrome. I don’t like it and I am not interested in accepting it. I’m fighting it, still hoping for some of the before.
DIfferent causes, different affects, I’m sure.
But to consider that God could make something beautiful out of this after-me? Well, I hadn’t thought of that.
And as my daughter literally just told me, “you’d better start to hop to it.” Granted she was talking about me getting her a bowl of ice cream, but the words work here too. haha!
i think that’s exactly my problem — my fighting of it. Because my heart is exhausted. Battle-weary. I’m fighting the acceptance, but i know i need to get there…
I say amen to Amy R.’s comment. I confess that I usually only read comments that are short or from people I know. I am believing for total healing… Body ( living tired not good) Mind and soul. Yo haven’t seen my tattoo yet but it says SOZO… Christ died for us so that we would be made whole. Befor you/ after you … All of you. All yesterdays are today for God…. He can heal old wounds…not only can He… He wants to and does. I love you and I hope to get to know all of you….more and more each day!
Alece, I didn’t know the “before you”, but I know that the “after you” is beautiful, inspiring, and precious. God has you. He’s using you. In the midst of fuzziness and sensitivity, know that not a moment or experience is wasted. I’m so glad I know you NOW.
i couldn’t keep my eyes from overflowing when I got to your last line. you’re so glad you know me NOW?! it’s like my heart doesn’t even know what to do with that… i’m gonna sit here a while and just stare at the words. because i want the truth of them to sink down deep.
thank you so much, jenni.
So beautiful! Thank you for sharing.
“Which means I need to face yet another loss….The loss of … me.”
I feel for you, Alece. I do think you are correct in seeing this as more loss. As much as you can, I would encourage you to focus not so much on what is being lost, but on why – try to see the purpose and embrace it. Give it up willingly and know that He will honor it.
“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.” Mark 8:35
“give it up willingly…” that made me cringe.
maybe the risk of surrender will end up being the greatest risk of my year…
thank you, rainer.
girl…you are right in the middle of the hand of God..and it’s a beautiful and safe place.
Beautiful Things by Gungor is the song I’m hearing right now. I think you’d love it. Find it if you can. I’ll let that be my comment.
That’s exactly what I was singing in my mind as I read this post too Russ
i love that song. and actually put it on repeat for this hours-long journey of reading and processing through all these comments.
Alece,
Praying for you, friend. I only know this version of you and I am thankful for your honesty and willingness to share your thoughts as you take this journey.
I agree with the many that have said it already here, God will restore you and you will not be left with a lesser version of yourself. When reading your post, beauty from ashes came to mind.
I know it hasn’t been easy, and it will continue to be hard. But God will bring something beautiful.
I can identify with you in this.
Over the past year, I’ve suffered some losses myself. Not on such a personal level, but these were things into which I had invested a lot of myself. And it did affect some close relationships that may be beyond repair now.
It’s been difficult for me to find myself, because I’m coming to terms with the person I am apart from the things I’ve lost.
Part of my problem, is that I defined myself more based on what I did and what people thought of me. So, I’m having to redefine who I am, and what I’m made of. And I’m not liking everything that I find, especially the insecurities and weaknesses that are more easily hidden when the perceived admiration of others holds you up. In the process, I’m finding I need a lot more grace than I thought I did.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that you have the same problem. But I am saying in some small way, I understand.
i’m similarly needing to redefine (and maybe discover for the very first time) who i am. it’s frightening, but i know it’ll ultimately be freeing.
to say this is your new normal almost sounds like youre saying ‘this is it’.
its not. youre still in the journey. we’re all in the journey.
God is not done shaping you yet. theres more to come.
I cried as I read this, because I am so sorry for you. It’s not fair that such a sweet person would have her world shattered in such a way. But life isn’t fair, is it? We’re constantly learning the lessons, even when they hurt. I’m just sorry you had to learn this one.
In time, you’ll be able to let go of before-you. I really believe that. But it’s funny you would say that. I’ve been through a situation… not like yours, yet not entirely different… and what I want more than anything is to get back to the before-me. The after-me is just not what I want to be.
But you’re going to make a new way, and the new you will be just fine. I know it because I ask for it in prayer, and God is good about answering prayers! :)
Oh Alece, He is already making something beautiful out of your “after-me”. You are this incredibly inspiring, strong (yes strong because it takes strength to share so much vulnerability with so many strangers), woman who is on a journey that God is orchestrating. I know it will end up being a journey of hope and healing and not just restoration but redemption. He’s by no means done with you. I don’t think this new normal is in any way shape or form the end of the story for you. I think like a phoenix you are going to rise out of the ashes of this dark season and discover a whole new you in the process. Like so many have said on these comments, I didn’t know the before-you but the after-you that I am starting to know is a beautiful, courage woman whose tender heart challenges me to chase God in a whole new way. I am praying for you and trusting God to continue to breathe strength in you for this journey you are on. Much love to you from the Carolinas
Loss definitely changes us. Redefines us. In some ways, it’s temporary. In others – the changes become permanent. Some of those things you mentioned, come a year from now, you’ll see “improvement” or you’ll laugh (or shake your head in amazement) when you remember what a mess you were. In others, you will come to accept that they ARE part of the “new” you. The good news is we are all in that constant state of growth and change. The best news is you’re embracing it – at least a good part of it. So many people fight it, they try to “refuse” to change and instead become miserable, bitter shells of people. You, on the other hand, as you look at it all honestly and grow and refine those changes? You grow more beautiful. Battle scars are beautiful – no matter how “ugly” we feel when we have them (and I’m not just talking the emotional battle scars, either). We are strangers in an alien land and you know? Sometimes I think we’re going to be oh so surprised by what we look like when God gives us our “new” body – it’ll be beautiful but by Whose standards? Would the “world” consider it beautiful? After all… Jesus wasn’t given a “handsome” face and He kept His scars…. (wait – was that you who just wrote on that? Funny how I read about things when I’m thinking about them…)
Pardon my rambling comment here. As always it never looks as good when I write it as it seems to flow in my head…
I’ve read this over and over, and feel in some ways you’ve articulated my heart, too. Of course dramatically different things have happened to us in this season, but… I sure did resonate with some of this. And I get sad about not being “me” anymore. It doesn’t make sense. It makes me angry. Angry at a lot of things.
Thanks for making sense of my heart.
I love you. I am so thankful for your gift of writing.
while i hate that this resonates with you at all, i’m grateful to hear it helped make sense of your heart.
i would hug you right now if i could. i love you, becca.
You show such strength here. I admire your ability to be so authentic in the moment. :)
Alece, I really believe that while some of these things are now the new “normal”, there are a lot of things that will (slowly) begin to return to how you knew them…things like your ability to conquer your to-do lists or your emotional highs and lows. Those things don’t define you. The Beauty that is made from these ashes, however, that will define you in a way that is so much more lasting than these other things ever can be.
Your heart is loved by me.
You need to read CS Lewis’ A Grief Observed. It is a very short book. It’s really the journal he kept after his wife died. So, basically in today’s vernacular – it is the Lewis Blog. Listen to this; the opening paragraphs:
“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it is like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or, perhaps, hard to want to take it in.”
You are grieving – it is the new normal. And it is hard.
this is a great book. so helpful after my dad died. helped me put into words things i was feeling at the time, and lewis always writes better than i do! great images and great truth.
you’re right. i need to read that book! thank you for telling me about it, my maatjie.
Oh, yes, A Grief Observed…You must read it. One of my favorite quotes from it is this: “On the rebound one passes into tears and pathos. Maudlin tears. I almost prefer the moments of agony. These are at least clean and honest. But the bath of self-pity, the wallow, the loathsome sticky-sweet pleasure of indulging it — that disgusts me. And even while I’m doing it I know it leads me to misrepresent H. herself.”
The “new normal” thing really stuck out to me. That phrase became a part of my vocabulary after my dad died. Things never do return to what used to be “normal,” you just adapt and redefine what normal looks like. And the missing the before-me is completely natural. You’re grieving a loss, many of them actually. The fuzzy brain thing is part of that and so is the living tired. Sooooo been there. After my dad died, I did something I had never ever done. I locked my keys in my car. While it was running. And my baby was inside. And my only spare key was with my husband 30 miles away. Not my best moment. Not the last time I locked my keys in the car either, but all (3) of them were in a couple of years. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is this – what you’re experiencing is (dare I say it?) normal. It’s all part of the process. Frankly, I’m amazed you have the energy to blog about this stuff. That was another thing I learned after Daddy died – that I only had so much emotional energy and I had to be selective about where and how to spend it. That was a big lesson for me that has had lasting impact.
I forget who it was that mentioned that maybe your tender heart and thinner skin are more the result of choosing to deal with your stuff rather than stuff it down, but I totally agree. It makes you feel more tender-hearted and thinner-skinned, but it sounds more like greater honesty. My mom shared this illustration one time. If you are ill and need surgery, sometimes you have to wait until you are stronger to be able to survive/endure the surgery. And so you wait until then. We have a Great Physician who knows the depth of our pain and suffering like no other. He knows when some wounds are healed enough to deal then with others. He is patient and kind and He know when and how to do the surgery. I don’t know if you’re in the waiting, the surgery, or the recovery, but He does. And I know that He redeems, heals, and restores. What is meant for evil He uses for good, for His glory. And my goodness, how you radiate His glory! And it is a joy to my heart to be able to offer a cup of cool water of refresing and encouragment in the meantime.
Love and hugs from VA!
thank you for normalizing some of my “symptoms”! in the past six months i’ve left my purse in a restaurant, locked my keys in the car, and lost a credit card — all for the first time. it is crazy-making how forgetful i am.
i really liked your (mom’s) analogy of getting stronger before the surgery. that’s a great mental picture for me right now. so appreciative of your heart for me and your prayers that are helping to carry me through this season. thank you, terri!
Alece, as usual I am late to the party and everything I wanted to say has been said. Except this.
I’ve known both “yous” and loved both “yous.” But it’s this now you who has ministered to me, inspired me, embraced and encouraged me. It’s this now you who is touching lives all over the world through the word of your testimony, bringing people out of their peed-in showers to see their brokenness through the eyes of their Healer.
I hate what you had/have to go through to get here, but like everyone else said — Who you are is beautiful and who you are becoming is a wonder to behold.
I love you!
all teary-eyed (again! or rather… still!) — thank you for pointing out how God is already using “now-me”.
i love you, old friend.
Alece-This is like ridiculously profound. But what struck me tonight is how much love is here. I hope you see it and feel it. You are SO incredibly loved from all over the world. We all come to check in on you. And we all leave a comment. We love you right NOW. And we will love you later too. But the love is here. Just receive it.
Last night at small group we talked about change. We read the whole of the book of Ruth and saw so many changes in her life and how God’s plan was filled with hope and joy. And we said “Without change there would be no butterflies”.
If anyone is in Christ she is a new creation. The old has gone. The new has come. The new is an exquisite butterfly expressing freedom and beauty. One of the ladies reminded us that once the butterfly manages to get out, her wings are still damp and she’s very vulnerable. But soon…as she waits…full strength will come. A new life in Christ.
ooooh. i hadn’t thought about that part of the metamorphosis process and how that relates to me. but you’re right, as the butterfly pushes out of her cocoon, it’s a painful and uncomfortable process. and for a while, she’s tired and vulnerable. and then… then she takes flight.
that gives me hope.
thank you, louise.
Sweet friend. loss just sucks. grieve sucks. a cycle that seems permanent. the awareness of grief and loss is a new normal. You have experienced “death” and loss that changes your life forever. the depth of loss for you extends through every area that you know of and the areas you are still learning about.
Death seems forever. maybe some of it is. but conquered death is a rising to life. that is the slow crawl you are in. death happened. you have already conquered a lot. sucky that it feels like a never ending battle. sucky that life just seems like one transition to another for you. the pain of temporary runs deeper than loss of your marriage. your life is in a constant state of awkward and temporary:traveling a lot, meeting new people all the time, every where. Seeing new cities all the time. I lost track of how many places you’ve stayed in. A temporary housing situation, prep for two months on the road to come, feel far from everything you knew and loved, while not feeling close to anything here. that is a sucky place. an exhausting place. i still think you keep up the same pace of life, it just looks like emotions, health, redefining brokenness and dreams rather than emails, curriculum, leading interns, staff, trips, routines….etc. i think what you are handling now is a lot harder to do and carry.
as death feels so close still, i can honestly say i have see so much rising to life in you. maybe you are becoming more of yourself than before. and maybe now you get to. feels sucky all the way around. i will pray for your hope. i always do.
“conquered death is a rising to life” — such power in that statement.
thank you for helping me acknowledge even to myself all the layers of limbo and transition i’ve been in. (can you believe it’s been 15 months? i can’t.) when i stare it all in the face (like in the way you listed them out), i don’t judge myself so harshly for the place i find myself in.
and i hadn’t at all thought before about what you said — that i keep the same pace of life, it’s just spent on more emotional “tasks” now. maybe you’re right. i need to marinate on that one a bit.
thank you for seeing (and pointing out) the risk in simply posting this. it was really hard, and has been an emotional few days as a result. but i’m glad i did.
i’m grateful for your faithfulness in rowing for me. especially for hope.
DILY.
and DAMN! do you have some serious courage! you have volunteered to dare yourself and play the biggest risk card for you. You, once again, have chosen the hard. but….
This too shall pass.
http://thenoreaster.wordpress.com/2008/08/24/the-fog-of-grief/
Trust me. I have been there. And I have lived to see the most beautiful sunrise.
“Weeping may remain for a night…”
Hi Alece,
It is heart-wrenching to read your words. From someone who knows a thing or two about the “before and after” shockwave, I can feel your pain and discouragement.
I recently wrote a post entitled “In order to wear the crown, you have to bear the cross” which comprises of two parts. As I read your post, I could remember some of the stuff I wrote in that post and strongly feel there may be something in there for you.
I continue to lift your aching heart in my prayers but please know that the Lord is right beside you. He knows about your pain because He experienced rejection amongst many other things, so he is holding you on the palm of his hand and YOU WILL NOT FALL.
When all is said and done, you will be VICTORIOUS, just as HE IS.
Blessings.
i didn’t know the “old you”.
but i can’t even begin to put in to words how much the “new you” has blessed me. but i don’t want that to be at your heart’s expense.
praying for you.
Alece,
Oh sweet girl…I sympathize greatly with what you’ve been through. Your heartfelt words leave no doubt that you have a stunningly beautiful soul, and you have ministered to my heart today.
Thank you!
Mammabird God is restoring your heart, your mind and everything to be a NEW CREATION in him…he’s allowing you to feel out this walk and walking it out through him. Man it’s SO AWKWARD, it sucks sometimes but IT’S NEVER COMFORTABLE.
as cheesy as this sounds but when i picture Jesus being on the cross with blood dripping down his arms I wonder if he was comfortable…You my Mammabird are going through a new path of change, growth and just honestly–new life because of your restoration. God is allowing you to feel it out and growing you to be his again. Allowing you to restore EVERYTHING…allowing you to have new identity in you an allowing you to be ALIVE.
it’s very different, it’s very hard but walking it out with God is never comfortable it’s just knowing that God uses all things for his glory…just like you always say.
i reallllllllllly, really, REALLY wish I could hug you right now and just love on you..
hugging you, praying for you and loving you from a distance Mammabird
<3
I wish I had half the eloquence that everyone here has. All I know is, it was like I could feel my heart physically break a little, reading your words yesterday, Alece.
To me, this emotional trauma was like your very core of everything about you got by a truck. And in your case, it was like you could see the truck coming, a good year in advance. Slowly…. coming. And then it hit. And you survived. But you got put in intensive care for a while. And now you’re in physical therapy, getting all of those muscles and ligaments and bones back into alignment. You’re having to re-learn old things, and He’s showing and teaching you new things.
Don’t laugh, but this came to mind: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HofoK_QQxGc. Listen to the words of the intro. To me, it’s like God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit are saying, “We can rebuild her. Faster and stronger than ever before.”
as i read your comment, it’s as though i could see that whole picture unfold… it does feel like i got hit by a mac truck. i saw coming for a long time and yet still couldn’t avoid getting hit by it.
i love that the bionic man came to mind! after seeing the video, i completely understand why. it’s reassuring to picture God saying “we can rebuild her”. thank you for that.
“better. stronger. faster.” – you know i’m gonna be hearing that voice when i’ve still got miles to go in that half-marathon next month!
“We can make her better than she was before.”
Psalm 84:5-7 is it. Strength to strength…..to those that walk through the Valley of Baca.
Friend -
This is painful to read. I’m so sorry.
It’s okay to still be affected by Niel. You’ve lost not only a husband, but as you are in the States and through the process of the affair, your home, your ministry, a connection point to your passion, your everyday circle of friends and staff.
You are strong. Maybe you don’t see it, but I do.
His grace is made perfect in our weaknesses.
I read 1 Peter 5:7 the other day, we are to cast our anxieties on the Lord for He cares for us. The anxieties of how fear and trust paralyze, how you are going to itinerate and minister while forgetting things and trying to take risks, how Niel was usually the speaker…
I know not easy to just “cast your anxiety”…but what I studied made it a bit easier for me. I looked up the word “cares for” in the Greek as in He cares for us. I think a lot of time we think it means to be concerned about, but our Father is much more than that… “Cares for” means to forsee, to think ahead and make provision for. He knew this was going to happen and He has seen ahead and provided the grace and strength for you to get through. And He has provided the faith for you to find victory (I John 5:4). I hope this was encouraging to your heart…
this is a heavy post alece and i’m far from qualified to post anything worthwhile on it but as you know my tendency is to make light of even the heavy, unbearable, just crazy things in life. so with the intention of hopefully getting a smile on your face: I see your point but I don’t think you need to worry about the beautiful part. That’s already been covered.
I discovered your blog about a week ago thanks to Gypsy Mama and have been reading since. I wanted to comment at some point but didn’t know where to jump in. This post, though, totally resonates with me. I lost my husband (due to a freak accident) 2 years ago this month. Our circumstances are a bit different but, oh, how the things you refer to above are so similar! I haven’t been able to work out exactly how far along you are on your journey but am thinking maybe I’m a little further (timewise). I just wanted to encourage you that, although in many ways I do still struggle with things above, I have been able to see the tide turn enough that I don’t fear being like this always anymore. I sure used to fear it, though! People don’t realise how scary it is unless they’ve been there. I remember wondering if I was going crazy and I’m not sure if there’s anything quite as scary as not knowing if you’ll hang onto your sanity. I love the raw honesty on your blog and your courage in sharing your vulnerability. Thank you for sharing.
I pray that you soon reach the point when you can look back and realize that each of these moments were worth every pain, every tear, every horrible thought. You WILL come through this, and look back and realize after all the painful refining you are expieriencing that you are even more YOU than before!
I didn’t think I had a BEFORE ME and AFTER ME… coming as I do from the other side of the pond as it were; I was the one that almost walked out on my marriage, rather than the other way around.
But I do.
Through this past almost-year, I have been in a place where I have had to redefine who I was and what my motivations are. I have had to re-examine (or examine for the first time, really) what drives me. I have gone through a process of realization of sin and repentance, recognizing death and calling for resurrection into new life, be recommited and learning now how to hide in God through my wilderness and practice radical obedience.
After me is more mature than Before me… although there’s still a long way to go.
YOU have helped with some of it – because I have been able to see through a woman’s eyes how devastating affairs are. And as I walk through my own healing; walking alongside you helps. And I hope that my walking alongside you can help you too.
*HUGS*
That so was not where I was going with this comment…. lol … I do want to tell you that I believe that God will use your After Me and you will be healed through the power of his Blood and the power of the Love of Christ through his body – both here on Grit and wherever else you are loved. The scar may always still be there, but you will see where you have grown, and the stress and physical symptoms of that stress you have now will fade under the searing light of God’s Son.
BTW – YOU have influenced me so much that I find myself doing like you do and linking to different posts that I’ve written that illustrate my point. I got that from spending so much time at the Grit! (See? I even did it for this comment!)
Love you, Alece.
Alece, you are an amazing writer, able to put so much in so few words! Thank-you for that post. I needed it just then to explain to someone something of grief, and it was a gift – well written.
I so empathize with you… my old me and my new me. Even parts of my old me, my before me are unknown to me… I don`t remember much of me before some stuff. Then other stuff I knew, and I would stare in the mirror and not know who I was becoming.
I know my story is different that yours, but recently God brought me back full circle in my life to where some awful things began. That time with God in that place seriously changed me. I cringe saying this because I realize how easily this could hurt someone, but still I’ve found it true and want to say it… but gently for those who are not there yet. I’ve come to the place that I realize that the “after-me” is so much better than the “before-me” even though it has been so badly hurt. Still what God has done with the “after-me” is so worth it that given the chance to choose, I would choose to walk through the pain again because He made it worthwhile. I don’t say that lightly, making little of what I’ve walked through, but I still say it. I still cringe at pain. Tears fill my eyes when I see where I’ve walked. But I still say it.
When I poured my story out in public where I could be shamed, opened my heart to feel other`s pain, and reached to comfort; I went back that day with my heart feeling wounded again, hurt, like ripping open old scabs, bleeding, dirty again… so I looked up at God with tears and told Him I feel hurt and dirty again. His answer? Simple, quick, and straightforward, “The King’s daughter is all glorious within.” (Ps.45:13)
I have a hope, a sure hope, a confidence that He will bring you to that place, too. That place where you know without doubts that the new you is worth all the pain, worth the shame, and is all glorious within… a value above all else. I even see that beginning. He did it with me. He’s doing it with me… He’ll do it with you, too. I know He will. I know Him.
i understand the ‘before me and after me.’ often, i wish i didn’t……but i do.
thanks for this post. keep leaning heavily on Him. your courage to press on is amazing.
I’ve been processing this for days, waiting for some clarity before commenting. Right now, my mind and heart are about as cloudy as they can get…and maybe it’s better that way.
“I’m living with diminished capacity.” mmhmm…I think back to a few years ago and so desperately want that girl back. The one who needed to do more than simply take a shower to consider a day productive. The one who had clear goals for the future. The one who could hold an entire conversation without spacing out.
I fear that girl is gone and I don’t like the one that’s replaced her. I want to believe this is temporary…but it sure doesn’t feel like it is.
Anyway.
I look forward to the day you see what I (we all) see–the beauty you are now and the masterpiece He’s in the midst of creating.
I love you, ‘lece.
Oh my word. Look at the sheer volume of words you’ve generated by opening up your soul in such a way.
And … I don’t know what I have to offer or add (I haven’t actually read any of these, as I don’t have time).
I want to say, though … so many of your symptoms (loss of concentration, thin skin, easily affected emotions, etc) are completely normal for emotional trauma of the sort you’ve been through. And I do believe that will pass. Healing is a journey, and unfortunately it seems to us, not a quick one. But there is One wiser still. I don’t think however (just my thoughts here) that you will be the same … before and after. Even if/when the symptoms pass, and the rawness of the wounds begin to scab over and new skin is formed. I think you will be different. Are different. And in that sense, there is a grief to bear. I believe somehow you will be better for it, though. The before need not eclipse the after. Jesus promised that no one who left yada yada yada for His sake would fail to receive a hundred times as much in this life, and in the life to come, eternal life. Spouse is included. (And I suppose, from your perspective, i>you didn’t do the leaving, he did … the heart is what God sees. Your heart clings to Him. Your heart follows hard in spite of loss. Your heart stubbornly insists on loving Him in spite of the pain. This is, I think, what He was referring to.)
I wish I could say I identify with you. In a way I feel like I can, and in a way, I know the pain you bear FAR outweighs mine. If there is anything I’d want you to know, it’s that there is someone … a lot of someone’s in fact, but I speak for myself … who will simply walk beside you and offer you a word, a shoulder, a kleenex, whenever you need it.I know I can’t make the path easier. But perhaps in some small way I can make it more bearable.