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mimigeorge
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Name: Bekah
Country: United States
State: Ohio
Gender: Female
Interests: following Jesus, people, guitar, trendy haircuts (hah!), books, Jesus-worship, food, pretty dresses, psychology, marriage
Expertise: I'm pretty much an expert when it comes to matters of ice-cream, sunburns, rainy-day floppiness, and being selfish without knowing it. Also, my undergrad was in psychologie with a minor in telecomm and an attempted [but failed] minor en francais. My Masters is in clinical social work and I'm an LISW. I've worked in the mental health field since 2002.
Occupation: Other
Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  frahnck
Yahoo:  bekahcom
Member Since:
6/21/2004
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| While walking the dogs, I felt my hair blow in the wind. That was the first time in almost nine months I felt that wonderful, wonderful kiss on my head.
I had dinner with three ladies at a little square table that was covered with a white tablecloth. We lingered and agreed it felt like we were European.
I saw a little mouse running to & fro in the rain, and later I saw gold leaves spinning in the rain on 270...and both made me smile.
I watched The Biggest Loser with my mom and we ate apple crisp. A la mode. It was delicious.
I like my life a lot.
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| In many ways today was much like last years' Labor Day. I spent the day in Mansfield at the Dugan household along with an assortment of their friends. I enjoyed the slow pace of the day, ate lots of food, chatted with Ashley's Nan and eventually headed back to Columbus in my red CR-V.
I remember quite distinctly painting my toenails (pink) last Labor Day. It was early evening and after sunbathing & swimming all day I'd showered and put on makeup at the Dugans'. And then, sitting on the floor in their spare bedroom, I painted my nails. I wanted to look nice because I was driving back to Columbus to meet my boyfriend for an art show. As I painted I chatted with Janele & Alison -- who I'd just met that day -- about my excitement over new boyfriend. Kind of a random memory, I know.
But this morning as I prepared to go to Mansfield that memory came to me...of me painting my nails. And so today when my friend Janele said "Isn't it crazy how much can change in a year," I couldn't agree more but wasn't sure what she was referring to. Then of all things she referenced me painting my toes at last year's Labor Day...and I knew exactly what she was meant.
Which got me thinking....
If someone had stopped me on my way to the car last year. If someone had offered to walk me & my pink toes to the car as I left the Dugans and that someone had said:
"Bekah, you're gonna drive back to Columbus now and your boyfriend will be mad at you for being late. And over the next three months he'll become increasingly abusive and controlling, but by Thanksgiving you will be engaged. And ten days after he proposes you will be diagnosed with breast cancer. By this time next year you will have lost all your hair and had a double mastectomy. And you'll be single again."
I'd have been stunned. Horrified. I would have locked up trying to process the vastness of all those changes.
It's the same feeling I get now when I think about it.
Yeah, Janele. The changes a year can bring are crazy, alright.
With all that change has grown a certainty that God is very much in control and very much in love with me. And with that thought I'll say good night.
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| I want my life back.
I want my health back.
I want my hair back.
I want my hair color back.
I want my breasts back.
I want my lymph nodes back.
I want my strength back.
I want my freedom back.
I want my dignity back.
I want my innocence back.
I want my heart back.
I want my love back.
I want my laughter back.
I want my job back.
I want my time back.
I want my money back.
I want my year back.
A friend has me read Your words to Israel: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." from Isaiah 43:18-19
I know You want me to hold onto those words as my own from You. And I believe You are doing a new thing in me...I do perceive it. But even though Your words shower my parched heart I'm still sobbing because right now, in this moment, even my hope hurts. The grief is louder than anything else inside. I need to hear You. I need Your comfort. I need Your strength. I need Your perspective. I need Your words. I need Your enough-ness. I need Your grace. I need Your presence.
God in my hurting, healing & weeping...be my everything. Amen.
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| Marveling tonight, with heavy tears, at how drastically things change. There's no reason I should have expected more consistency...it's just what I crave. And it's not even that everything had changed. Just enough -- and in such dramatic ways -- that all I can do tonight is shake my head.
Things I never thought would really happen, happened to me. Things I never saw coming, came like a thief in the night and tied me up. One summer ago I was healthy. One summer ago I was falling in love. I didn't have breast cancer, but I did have breasts. I didn't know grief like I do now, but I did know I was cute, imaginative & fun. I wasn't tired every day but I did bike a mighty 50 miles. I didn't have an abusive ex, but I did have a trusted playmate. The person I thought I knew disappeared in smoke & mirrors and all I found left of him was a discarded sheepskin. The friend I trusted surprised me with fiery arrows. The man I loved generously loved himself monogamously.
I don't know why all the sudden the sadness of all these things grips me today. Grief is so much faster than me...it sneaks up & overtakes me before I know it's on my heels. And sadness is often followed by anger now, which is another change. In a very important way it's a sign of new growth, strength and the certainty that black is black, not dirty-white. And I'm proud of this change; emboldened almost. I have a hunch the pendulum will swing again and this anger will be tempered with perspective & maturity.
But in the mean-time, crying is impossibly inadequate. The pain, the accusations, the rage. The warrior in me is stirred and I wish I could fight with swords and genius plots...rather than with patience and trusting God. I want to grip an automatic rifle, not pillows & kleenex. I want a spotlight & microphone for full disclosure. I want to go back in time so I can say all the things blazing in my heart now. I want justice. I want mob ties. I want revenge.
*deep sigh*
And now what comes to mind is "in quietness and trust is your strength" from Isaiah 30:15. On that note I will close my laptop, turn off the light and go to sleep.
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