Forgive and Forget

I'm going to begin with a quote that I stumbled across while reading a book I assigned for my English class: 

"People, in general, would rather die than forgive. It's that hard. If God said in plain language, 'I'm giving you a choice, forgive or die,' a lot of people would go ahead and order their coffin." 

How true this statement is. Why is forgiveness so hard? We have all been wronged in our lives. We have all had that friend, that boyfriend/girlfriend, that husband/wife, or whoever it is who has done something hurtful to us, so hurtful that we think forgiveness is not an option, let alone forgetting. 

What exactly is the meaning of the word "forgiveness?" Well, like my students would probably tell me if I asked them to look it up, "it's the act of forgiving." Ok, well, thank you for that helpful clarification, but that tells me nothing. So what is the denotation of the word "forgive?" According to the dictionary, forgive means to grant pardon or remission of; to cease to feel resentment against. The word pardon reminds me of prisoners or criminals who are granted a pardon for the crime they committed. Does this mean they are forgiven of the crime they committed? And the word "resentment." It harbors such a negative connotation. To cease to feel resentment against. I like that definition a little better than the first. But still the question remains, why is it so hard to cease to feel resentment against others? Is it because of the severity of the crime they committed against us? Is it a pride issue? In the words of TLC, "I ain't too proud to beg." But when it comes to asking forgiveness or even forgiving someone who has wronged us, many people are, in fact, too proud to beg for forgiveness and/or forgive that person who wronged them. The Bible tells us to "forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you." (Collosians 3:13) I will be the first to admit, mainly because this is my blog, that it has been hard to forgive those who have hurt me in the past. In fact, there are remain a few out there whom I have to yet to forgive. Does this make me a bad person? Does this mean I never will forgive these people? No, it just means that my heart is not ready and healed in order to be in a place of forgiveness. But as far as choosing death over forgiveness, I am not quite ready to choose my coffin. 

To forget about the betrayal or the lies or the dishonesty or whatever it is, is a conscious act. One has to be consciously aware of the incident in order to be able to forget it, right? But does forgiveness require the same concerted conscious effort? Must one concentrate on the incident that requires the forgiveness, or does this act of forgiving live somewhere else? To me, forgiveness is an emotional act that is lead by the heart. The heart knows when it's time to forgive, whereas the head knows when it's time to forget. I may have "forgotten" what he or she did to me, but my heart has not given consent for forgiveness of the wrongdoing. So again I ask, does this make me a bad person since I have yet to forgive someone for what they did and said to me so many years ago? 

So I go back to the question - why is forgiveness that hard? 

And like I would tell my kids - I don't know is not an answer. 

Holding on a little too long...

Things I have held on for too long that need released: 

• the title of this blog
• clothes in my closet that I haven't worn in months
• the obscene amount of purses and sweatshirts taking up space in my closet
• the hope that things will come to me without me working for them 
• the notion that Mr. Right will miraculously show up at my doorstep with a dozen roses 
• my life will not turn out like a Tyler Perry movie
• five t-shirts from each drawer in my dressers 
• temporary feelings that aren't really temporary 
• people who have done me wrong yet remain in my life

Do you remember?

I spent this evening doing something I have never done before, despite the fact that I've lived in Oklahoma my entire life (minus the last eight years). I'm ashamed I have never done this before, being an Oklahoma. Sixteen years ago, on April 19, 1995, close to two hundred people were killed in the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Building in downtown Oklahoma City. Tonight, I visited the memorial. Even though I did not have the chance to experience the museum, standing in the same spot where so many hundreds, and possibly thousands, either lost their lives or worked to rescue and save lives was moving. I'm ashamed that I have not experienced this sooner in my life. This was truly a surreal moment as I stood there remembering where I was and what I was doing on this tragic day in American history. I remember watching the news, reading countless newspaper and magazine articles, and now watching anniversary specials recalling that day.


Before one even enters the memorial, attention is immediately drawn to the statue of Jesus that stands on the corner across from the bombing site. What once used to be a part of church, the statue now stands there with three small but extremely powerful words inscribed at the foot of the statue: "And Jesus Wept." Three small words that speak volumes. Immediately across the street, still not inside the actual memorial, one can walk along the sidewalk and grasp of feeling of who the people were who lost their lives that day. There are mini memorials family members and friends have left to honor their fallen loved ones. Shoes hanging, key chains, Christmas wreaths, poems, bibles, t-shirts signed by loved ones with a special message or a scripture verse. To me, this was the most moving of the memorial. That is, until I entered. Upon entering, there are chairs on one side of a pool of water. The chairs were strategically placed to represent the lives lost on the nine floors of the Murrah building as well as five other chairs to represent the five individuals who were standing outside the building at the time of the bombing. On each chair, a name is inscribed. Finally, on each end of the pool of water are two tall walls, one end says 9:01, the other 9:03 - the time frame of the bombing when peace quickly turned to chaos, when love turned to hate, when fear and sadness consumed us all.


As I spent the hour or so walking around the grounds, it brought sadness to my heart, but it also made me reflect on life and how fragile life is and it can be taken from us at any given moment. I have been blessed in my life that I have not been a victim of losing  loved one due to a tragic event. Yes, I've lost loved ones due to illness and old age, but this is something I can't even fathom experiencing....and hope I never have to.


Pictures to come....

It' been awhile...but I'm baack!

So when I set out do create a blog, I had in mind that I would update on a regular basis thinking that I have plenty from past and/or present to keep my fingers flying across the keyboard. Even though this is true, I have my fair share of sob stories and drama filled experiences from years passed, I haven't had the time. I haven't had the time nor felt like sharing some Debbie Downer depressing stories for the masses. Masses? Ha. Like I have a wide following of readers who religiously follow my blog, which ironically is named after a comment made my someone I try to forget on a daily basis. Maybe that's why I don't blog as often as I like. The title is a constant reminder of him? I wish. He wishes. Look at me being so cynical. I have, indeed, become very cynical in more recent years. Ask my best friend. She'll agree. I swallowed the pill of cynicism many years ago and it is still digesting. Maybe one day, that nasty little thing will dissolve and I'll be a new person. But until then....

My sister created a blog. However, hers is one that she contemplates the subject weeks prior to posting, researches the topic prior to posting, surveys her family and friends before posting. Totally the opposite of this blog. This is what one would call in the literary world - a stream of consciousness. With no particular topic in mind, no direction entered in the GPS, I am going off the top of my head here. If it doesn't make sense to you...quit reading. Back to my sister's blog. Sorry for the digression. Similarly, she likes to discuss men yet compare them to fish or hooks or something like that. I'm all for that, and I love her to death, but being the cynic that I am (remember the undigested pill), it's hard to relate to that subject since I have not had so many guys in the past "be on the hook," as she posted in a recent blog.

But on a more serious note, I admire my sister more than anyone else on this planet. I often reflect on my life and think of all the things I could have done and wanted to do but was often too afraid to pursue. She is doing what she always dreamed of doing. Since she was a little girl, my youngest sister knew she was going to be an interior designer. And here it is, 20 years later, she is graduating from college with a degree in interior design. How sweet it truly is. She is living her dream. With this fact, I can't help but reflect on my own life. I went through six different majors in college (yes, six. You read correctly). And now, here I am in education. What the hell?! I love teaching. I love interacting with the kids. But education? I certainly didn't go into this profession for the money. Anyways, I digress. As she graduates this weekend, I can't help but envy her and feel a tinge of jealousy for accomplishing the goal she set for herself so many years ago. She is truly an amazing person with so much talent, drive, and focus to make in the big city as a big named interior designer or on tv with her own design show. Yep. She's that good. She always says I am her hero. I think I can say the same for her. Love you, sister. 

Speak it into existence....

Lets do a little algebra, shall we? 

right guy + wrong time = fail

wrong guy + right time = fail

wrong guy + wrong time = fail

right guy + right time = undetermined

So, class, what did we learn from this algebra lesson? Well, you probably learned nothing, but I have learned that every time I think I have it figured out and am ready for a relationship, the timing is wrong, the guy is wrong, the situation is complicated, yada, yada, yada. Reading my sister's blog earlier and laughing at her luck with the attraction of younger men, I started thinking about my life at 25 (that's how old she is). At 25, I had a three year old, just moved three hours away from my family to start a new job and new life, and was on the verge of complete and total independence. Talk about a scary time in my life. That was seven years ago. So lets see where I am now at 33. I live three hours away from my family with the same job and same life; I have a ten year old, and I am still completely and totally independent, for the most part. Oh, wait, lets add one more similarity to the list...I was and still am single. So while my sister is worrying about her boobs and attracting younger men, I'm worrying about my weight and hair color and attracting men in general. Now, lets not get it twisted, I have dated in the past seven years since being here, but there is no ring on the finger, there is no man in the house, there is no man blowing up the phone. However, I am happy. I must admit that I'm a tad bit cynical about love, but who isn't? People, life is not a Tyler Perry movie where the single mother finds the hot, muscle laden hunk who falls in love the first time their eyes meet. My life will not happen that way. I can try to speak that phrase into existence all I want, but I know damn well that that is not gonna happen to me! However, (yes, another however) I have attracted my fair share of frogs, therefore my prince is out there somewhere with that glass slipper. I don't think he's in Ark City, but I know he's somewhere. I would hate to think I am destined to a life equivalent to an old lady with 30 cats. I deserve more than that! It's funny when I hear something like, "J, I have always been attracted to you since college, but you were always with someone else." Well, damn it, say something. It could have been you instead of that loser I was with! I'm sure if I had made a different decision here, a different decision there, my life would be significantly different. But He has led to this point and will continue to lead me wherever He sees fit. I just have to trust Him and enjoy the journey.

Since I have run out of things to say for now, I leave you with this: I am adopting a new mantra: It will be if I want it to be. Speak it into existence. 

(I kind of feel like Oprah saying that, like I need to go make a vision board or something.)

If Life Were a Movie....

I have become emotionally attached to songs before, so much that I listen to them over and over again internalizing the words and finding every way the song and lyrics relate to my life. The most recent song I've become attached to is "If This Was a Movie" by Taylor Swift. I know I've posted this before about how I wish my life was like a movie. Despite all the struggles, the guy and girl always end up together in the end. It's either a chance meeting between two strangers or two people who have had a difficult past, but either way, the two end up together. However, life isn't a movie. Life will never be a movie. Life isn't that easy.

Last night I heard my own heart beating
Sounded like footsteps on my stairs
Six months gone and I'm still reaching
Even though I know you're not there
I was playing back a thousand memories baby
Thinkin bout everything we've been through
Maybe i've been going back too much lately
When time stood still and I had you

Come back come back come back to me like
You would you would if this was a movie
Stand in the rain outside til I came out
Come back come back come back to me like
You could you could if you just said you're sorry
I know that we can work it out somehow
But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

I know people change and these things happen
But I remember how it was back then
Locked up in your arms and our friends are laughing
Cause nothing like this ever happened to them
Now I'm pacing down the hall
Chasing down your street
Flashback to the night when you said to me
Nothings gonna change not for me and you
Not before I knew how much I had to lose

Come back come back come back to me like
You would you would if this was a movie
Stand in the rain outside til i came out
Come back come back come back to me like

You could you could if you just said you're sorry
I know that we can work it out somehow
But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

If you're out there if you're somewhere if you're moving on
I've be waiting for you ever since you've been gone
I just want it back the way it was before
And i just wanna see you back at my front door
And i'd say

Come back come back come back to me like
You would before you said its not that easy
Before the fight before i locked you out
But i'd take it all back now

Come back come back come back to me like
You would you would if this was a movie
Stand in the rain outside til i came out
Come back come back come back to me like
You could you could if you just said you're sorry
I know that we could work it out somehow
But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

You'd be here by now
It's not the kind of ending you wanna see now
Baby what about the ending
Oh i thought you'd be here by now oh ohh ohh ohh
That you'd be here by now.

Things happen in our lives, both expected and unexpected, but with me I'm always trying to figure out why those things happen and what I could have done differently to change the outcome. Was I too forceful? Did I not say what you wanted me to say? Did I not say or do enough? What if this wouldn't have happened, would we still be where we are today? What I do wrong that others did right? I could go on and on.

Fear of disappointment is something I constantly struggle with. I'm 33, and I still worry about disappointing people. If I make you made or upset, that's one thing, but if I disappoint you, that's something entirely different. The anger will soon fade, but the disappointment will linger. But how healthy can that be to live a life of constant worry about disappointing those around me? Not very much, I'm sure. There are decisions that I've made that haven't pleased this person or that person, and  I know there will be future decisions that will be made that won't please this person or that person. I have to understand that whatever the decision, if those people who I fear disappointing love me, they will support whatever decision I make and won't judge or stay mad too long. And it's those people who can't accept the decision and be supportive of the decision that I don't need in my life.

So I guess the next step in making a major decision after the fear of disappointment is getting over the fear of making the decision in general. What if this isn't what I want? What if I have imagined this in my mind to play out a certain way, but only to find the reality is completely different? Change is a scary thing, but I can't imagine going through life doing the same thing day after day and not enjoying the life that God has provided for me. What's that quote, "If you don't like something, change it"? If only we had a crystal ball to peer into and see all the things the future holds for us. I wouldn't want to see everything; I'm not that greedy,but I would like to see where I am in the next ten years. I know God has a plan for me, and I can't question that plan that he has laid out for me, but it's hard to really understand that when there are so many obstacles and battles that keep presenting themselves. 

If one decision has been made ten years ago, I know that my life would be drastically different right now. But I can't worry about the past. The past is the past. I don't live in a movie. I can't go back in time and change things. I can control the things right now that I have control over, but I have to put aside those things that I have no control over and simply focus on the here and now and not worry about the fear of disappointment.

Two weeks until 18.

I don't know how my mother did it. I don't know how she raised three girls, two of them being only two years apart. I only have one daughter, but now I am really starting to realize exactly what it means to have a daughter.

She is two weeks from being ten. TEN! Aaaaggghhh!!! Where has the time gone? Ten is double digits. Next thing I know, she'll be fourteen and going to high school and her first homecoming dance. Time has got to slow down...just for a bit at least.

Wednesday nights on ABC is probably the best night of tv ever. The Middle, Modern Family, Cougar Town....so hilarious. So on Cougar Town the other night, Jules' (Courtney Cox) son left for college, which left her in a complete disarray. As funny as the show is, and as I was laughing out loud at most of the humor in the episode, I received a text from my best friend that said "that's totally gonna be you when Kalyn goes to school if you don't have another kid." Oh my gosh, thank you for reminding me of that! So then my life skipped from her being 9 1/2 straight to 18. It scares me beyond belief to even think about the day when she leaves me, when she moves out on her own, when she isn't under my roof everyday and every night. She often tells me she will live with me until she's 30. I'm ok with that. She also tells me I can go to college with her. I'm ok with that. I want to protect her from the big bad world out there. I don't want her bullied. I don't want her to become like some of the rude and hateful little girls I see on a daily basis. I don't want my daughter to be the girl that everyone says is rude, hateful, stuck up, and a royal B. That's not her and that's not the child I have raised.

So anyways, back to the second part of the problem on the show and the second part of the text. Jules is 40 and losing her only child, thus sending her into a nervous breakdown, of sorts, from dealing with him leaving. What if Kalyn is it? What if I only get the chance to have this one child? I don't want to be one of those selfish people when there are women out there who will never be able to have a child, but I do want another child. I guess there's always the sperm bank! Ha! Just joking. If Kalyn is the only child I am meant to have then at least I have done my best thus far to raise her in the right way and teach her to value the important things in life.

I am so glad I had a girl. I wouldn't know what to do with a boy. Having three sisters, all female cousins, and being a girl myself, it just seems natural and easier this way. However, as Kalyn gets older, I know the next few years will bring those changes that I'm not sure I am ready to face. She's already asking for a padded bra. Do they even make a padded bra in her size? Really? Oh, I'm not ready for it all. Let's go back to diapers, bottles, and pacifiers. Let's go back to when she could sit on my lap or lay on my chest and we would sleep for hours at a time.

My little girl is not my little girl anymore. Now, she is two weeks from ten, soon she will be two weeks from 18.