On and on we go...

Oh, how it means so much to me to be able to open up to my friends here. 

I've received such encouragement and love in the past few weeks that have just lifted my spirits when I so desperately needed it the most. 

I know that this blog is usually a place of color and paint and DIY projects.

I know that it hasn't been that of late. 

And sometimes, I feel guilty for not picking it back up yet. 

I have been doing projects.

I've been taking pictures.

I just haven't had the energy to sit long enough at the computer to put a whole post together.

It almost seems to...normal.

And nothing here is normal yet.

I'm sorry if you're tired of hearing my thoughts and my story.

I certainly don't want to lose readers and fans through it.

But I have decided that my blog is just that...my blog.

Would I rather be posting about paint projects and furniture redos?
You bet. 

Absolutely. 

But that's not who I am on the days I sit to write.

Not yet. 

And I started this blog with the full intention of sharing me. 

So this is what you have right now. 

My posts will be back, filled with all the things you have loved.

They will. 

So if that's what you're looking for, then just kindly click off this post and wait for those. 

I promise they will be back. 

But today...I'm sharing me. 

Even if it's uncomfortable and hard. 

*************

The days have gone by slowly this past week. 

Like time is just dragging its feet. 

I started classes on Thursday and fared through them a lot better than I had pictured in my head. 

There were moments when we were talking about the semester and I just wanted to run out the door. 

I felt trapped.

Like they were talking about normal, everyday things.

And my life feels so far from normal.

I have pieces of our every day life scattered all around me. 

I haven't heard about or from my husband in over two weeks. 

I haven't seen him in over a month. 

I have no idea where he is.

I know he quit his job.

I know random musings from things he told friends. 

But really, I know nothing.

I know that time is my friend if I let it.

I know that God is capable of things I could never have imagined. 

I know that God is here in the midst of all this chaos because I have felt His presence when things get too much for me to handle. 

When I just want to fall apart, I can feel Him working and holding me up. 

He sends lovely people like you to give encouraging words in moments that feel hopeless.

I have realized that friends I had thought were sent for Mychal were really friends that God placed in our life in preparation for just this time. 

He knew I would need them. 

I think my heart pushes against the 'normal' things in life.

It screams at them to go away because it doesn't seem ok for things to move forward like they always have when things are in such upheaval in my marriage. 

I reach out to pick up the phone to call him after my classes end and then realize what I'm about to do.

It's not okay that I can't call him.  

I read somewhere that separation is like taking two pieces of paper that had been super-glued together and tearing them apart.

Pieces of each of them stick to each other and they are both tattered and torn apart. 

I am tired of being strong sometimes.

Some moments I just sit and soak in the grief I feel inside. 

I hate feeling it. 

I wish I knew of a way to make it just go away and make everything better. 

I feel trapped. 

And I want a way out.

But I've realized that the only way out is day by day, walking side by side with God through this dark tunnel I'm currently in. 

I know that the only way to reach the light at the other side is by continuing to take steps forward into the unknown. 

Not to fall down and stop moving. 

Not to stay trapped somewhere that feels horrible and hopeless.

To walk one step in front of the other through it. 

On and on we go. 

 I don't know what is at the other end of that tunnel and I think that is what scares me the most. 

Isn't the unknown always the scariest? 

Sometimes, when I'm mad, I think that a quick ending would be the easiest.

Just walk away and cut the pain off. 

And then I realize that I'm not there yet. 

God still has work to do. 

He just whispers for me to sit next to Him while we watch and wait. 

For my healing. 

Maybe for my husband's. 

I know that when I am tired and weak, that God is still strong.

There is nothing I can do to make things happen anymore.

Things are totally and completely out of my control.

There are not any words in the world that I can say that would make this better. 

But I know that God is still fighting even when I feel like nothing is happening. 

He doesn't rest. He doesn't give up. 

And He loves my husband even more than I do. 

It's hard to just sit back and have faith. 

I feel helpless. 

Like I am doing nothing. 

I feel helpless when my little guy asks where his daddy is and when he is coming home.

How do you explain to a five year old about something so hard? 

Something I really don't even understand myself. 

For moments when my heart seems to just keep on breaking and my thoughts race. 

When fear courses through me and I feel myself spiraling down a path of emotions that I cannot handle, 

I walk outside to the little table in the front of the house and just sit.

I soak in the warmth. I drink in the silence. 

I sit and I wait. 

Sometimes I feel like God is more tangible when I sit outside and just be still.

I don't know where this path leads.

And sometimes that hurts so much I can't stand it. 

But, well...

on and on we go. 

Somehow, I know I will make it to the other side, whatever that looks like. 

But right now, it's an accomplishment to make it another day. 

Because that's exhausting all in itself. 

I love you guys. 

Really, I do. 

Your prayers and sweet words mean more than I could ever let you know. 

And I do promise a craft soon. 

Is it too soon to share an awesome fall wreath? 
Cuz I totally made one the other day that I'm obsessed with...

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I'm still me...

I've sat down to write a new post several times over the past couple weeks.

And just haven't figured out quite what to say.

I'm 98% sure I'll be back to my normal bloggy self in the next few weeks.

There's a 2% part of me that just wants to check out. 

But I really don't think that small percentage will win out :)

Honestly, 

I feel like anything I sit down to write is just depressing and hard. 

It's a day to day battle to figure out how I feel right now.

There are moments when I feel okay though.

So know that. 

I realized today that this Thursday will be four weeks since my husband walked out.

I still don't know why.

I don't think I ever will. 

I don't know if he will come back. 

I pray for him daily. 

I cry for him almost as much. 

I think I cry for me too. 

I'm having to make really hard decisions that I never, ever wanted to make. 

And I hate being in the position that I'm in.

I. did. not. want. this.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with a feeling of panic and I have no idea why. 

The empty space next to me stretches out and I feel like my heart breaks all over again.

But I really don't think it's possible for a heart to just keep on breaking. 

Sometimes I just feel like throwing on my tennis shoes and running.

Running down the street, around the block and just keep running until all of this is behind me. 

And once my shoes are on, I'm exhausted and just want to curl up in my bed. 

I'm haunted by the memories and pictures spread throughout my house.

I think that's the most heart wrenching for me. 

I have spent so many hours making this house into...us. 

Because it's what I love to do. 

And now it just screams out to me when I walk through the hallways.

Because I have no idea what is going to happen. 

It's so hard to pinpoint how I feel. 

I can spend most of the day with friends and be laughing and feeling like me. 

Then, I go home, close the door and slide to the ground because the weight of the grief I carry just overwhelms me. 

I am settling into a routine. 

I know that wounds heal. 

I know that this gaping hole in my heart will mend. 

I don't know how long that will take or what that even looks like. 

Different scenarios play out in my mind and I can't wrap my head around any of them fully. 

I don't know what tomorrow looks like.

Or next week.

Or next year. 

I know that I'll be me again soon. 

I know that I will survive all of this. 

I do. 

But there's nothing able to describe the ache in my heart right now. 

I wish we could all huddle around a table with warm coffee and soft blankets and just chit-chat all my sorrow and hurt away.

I know you guys would totally make me laugh and feel better :)

And there are moments...days... when I feel okay.

I really do. 

I find myself laughing and didn't even know I could do that anymore. 

And turquoise still makes me giddy inside so that's a good sign, right? 

I still scour the edges of the road for good furniture finds that people have thrown away.

I still visit Habitat and Goodwill and pick up sad pieces that people shake their heads at me for even considering...

I still paint.

I still take pictures.

I still cuddle with my little man. 

I shop. 

I laugh with my girlfriends. 

I notice pretty colors and I drink in gorgeous sunsets and quiet mornings. 

I thank God a hundred times a day for the friends He placed in my life that He knew would be invaluable to helping me through this time. 

I am living. 

And I am still me. 

So I know that somehow I will be okay. 

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