War Time Tea Time

On Thursday, it will be 10 years.
Ten years since we said our eternal yes.

Because I've spent the last few years fantasizing about a super fun awesome ten year anniversary celebration, the thought of staying home just seemed like hell.
Going to the temple seemed like hell.
Going away as a couple to celebrate seems fake.
And fake is hell.

So we are packing the kids into a small rental car and driving to Disneyland.

And inside I feel exactly like this:

Chasing Son

I wake up with a rejuvenation hangover,
Taking comfort in the ritualistic nature.
Early morning ache.
Sore legs, stiff arms.
I reach my arms to the sky, bring them to my heart.
Namaste.
I reach up to heaven in prayer,
Read words from ancient prophets.
I open my bedroom door.


The white rays of new sun energize.
My capable shoulders take on the world.
Layer by layer.
Wake them up, feed them, pack lunch. Prayers, kisses, frustrated hissing:
GET SOCKS AND DO NOT WAKE THAT BABY.
They board the bus.
Layer.
Breakfast, shower, dress.
Layer.
Baby time. Feed, fuss, change, play, laugh, Lock the door.
Layer.
Babysitter, kisses, worries.
Layer.
Work.
Layer, Layer, Layer.
Phone rings, texts come in.
Layers.

The yellow rays of mid day sun encourage.
Pick up son, finish work, pick up baby.
Lunch, rest, clean.
Bus comes, hello daughter.
Piano lessons to teach, snacks, homework, kids. Homework. Seriously. Kids. Home. Work. Or. Else.
Dinner.
32 layers.
I trade my day clothes for lightweight.
Already the layers feel lighter.
I open the front door.

The golden rays of the sunset cleanse.
They land on my skin,
I absorb them.
I breathe in the gold.
My feet hit the pavement with an eager hunger.
I walk toward the sun.
My steps pick up speed.
I break into a run.
It isn't neat.
It is free.

The layers are falling off.
They so willingly travel to my feet.
I shake them off,
Leaving them in the cracked pavement.
They fall as sweat into the Arizona heat.

My body wants to burst, so I walk.
The golden rays cleanse me.
I breathe.

What I would give! to follow it forever.
I fight myself and turn for home.
Don't want to run now.

I listen, pensive.
Crickets, highway, soft wind.
I inhale deeply.
Wild sunflowers, desert rain.
I feel clean.
Light.

I sleep soundly,
Waking to my beautiful hangover,
Brought on from chasing Son.

Restored

Life is messy. It's rocky. It's confusing and foggy and downright beautiful.

It's supposed to be that way.

The past few months have been all of those things for me. Danny and I are not in a great place. This addiction is horrible. It's a plague, sweeping the nation, the world, families, souls, hearts, minds...

But you already know that.

Because of that, it's time for me to start writing again. It's time for me to tell you that I'm being restored to myself. God is weeding out, weeding, weeding. I'm finding a relationship with my true self.
Danny and I are navigating the confusing world of separation, and it's a bucket of mess.
A great, big bucket of mess.

I'm finding sources of strength within me that I didn't know existed. I'm finding a hunger for fresh air,  for quiet mornings, and music that makes me dance out loud (it's totally a thing, I promise).

I'm decorating my house which seems small.  It does.
But it isn't small.

After separating from Danny, I asked God what I was to do next and He simply said...

Decorate your house.

So I am.  As I pull down pictures, throw out old, and bleach corners, I'm finding something of a canvas.
And as The Lord so pointedly put it in the Temple as we talked last month... I will be restored.
A promise from One who never breaks trust.

A little taste of what I'm up to: