Sorry. I knew exactly what you meant. I was just being silly. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> It may be difficult for you to believe, given what I've said so far, but I did a LOT of conflict avoidance back then, especially in certain areas. Besides, that's easy enough to explain. I suffered from fulminating hyperfertility back in those days, and apparently, as I speculated a few pages back, there were a LOT of 2nd graders in neighboring counties studying cetaceans, and talking about SPERM whales!

I want to spend a whole hr. editing Neak's book today, so will go offline and get busy. If it's Q_____ at work, I can post later, or tomorrow because it's my night off. It only took me 27 yrs. or so to get from one mind-set to another. Don't worry. I won't tell every detail.

It really feels funny writing this stuff down without much feedback. (Of course, some of the feedback has felt funny, too!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" /> Am I hard to please, or what? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />) But I see the numbers go up, so SOMEBODY is reading it, and I hope in the long run, it will help. I am not suggesting that anybody try to follow in my footsteps. That would involve getting a lot of, um, stuff on your shoes. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> Lots of days I don't even like being in my own shoes, even now, but I am reconciled with myself and my life, and my loss, and that's a good thing. If it's all I accomplish in life, it's still better than what I had for so many years.

Yesterday, HP and I had a perfect marriage moment. I went the other way to work to go by the post office and pick up the mail, and so I passed him on our road as he was coming home. We stopped our vehicles side by side, each going the opposite direction (a perfect metaphor, there!) <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> We rolled down our windows. He handed me the rest of his sweet popcorn with cashews. I made him laugh. And then he went home and I went to work! Hey, you have your marriage moments, and I'll have mine.! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> So I've lowered my standards for what makes a perfect marriage moment these days. At least they're attainable!!!!!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Had a pt. recently who was 20 yrs. old, having her sixth baby, who said during her recovery, "I don't like my husband." And I'm thinking, "Honey, this is a LOUSY time to be realizing THAT! Why couldn't you have figured it out just a little earlier? Like maybe when you were 14?" So, personally, I don't think children necessarily prove anything except that a sperm and an egg bumped into each other at the barbecue...and combusted!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Hi T&L,

[Having] children doesn't prove anything, but IT SHOULD.

I wanted a starting point. Perhpas I have it.

MB is wonderful place to get help in one's marriage. It is a wonderful place to get help for one's self.(Often a pre-cursor to improving a marriage.)

I realize you didn't come here for either purpose, but to support Neak.

However, much of what you said touched me, and I keep wondering if something can be changed so that both you, and your H can be happy and fulfilled in your marriage.

Neak, and siblings, don't be bashful if you have comments.
You love your parents, Dare I ask for what you would like to see in their future?


T&L,
I have no idea at all if you even want me to look around in your life, I tend to do it with anyone that comes to MB. Just because it is what it is.

Thinking about all that I know so far, I have no ideas.
You do say on good days, that you make a wonderful, and productive pair. (That's what I got from what you said, anyway.)

You seem to know God. He has never stopped performing miracles. Do you think he could do one for you? Do you talk to him about it these days?

I could ask questions all day. Probably should leave you alone.

May I ask what the subject matter of the book is that Neak has you editing?

I'll be leaving on Vacation tomorrow Saturday, July 23. Won't be back until Aug 1, or 2. You can be sure when I come back, I'll check up on you.

It will be good to hear how Neak is doing too.

SS

PS,
Your story of the Angel in the car makes me think HE does have a plan for you. I would guess that if you really know God, you undestand that, because he ALWAYS has a plan.

I have lived long enough, and lived enough of those stories myself to know they are real.

Do you have an idea of what he wants you to do?

SS

Right on both counts. It should, but doesn't always. Not what God intended in the beginning, but how it too often is anyway.


Did I actually say "wonderful"? It would probably be more correct to say we were formidable opponents (to kids, whoever), but the productive part was right. He told me once I'm a much stronger person than he is, although any time I hear myself get called "Tough Broad" I know somebody is about to try and wangle me into doing something I wouldn't choose for myself!! I'm tough. He's just stubborn.
<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />


I don't know Him as well as I ought, or as well as I'd like to (who does?), but certainly better than I did back in my misspent youth! I think, in so many ways we haven't even come to yet in The Sad Saga of OtherSusan the Stupid, that He already has. However, for me just as much as for anyone else, the only person I can really hope to "change" is myself. What I pray is that God will continue to help me stay out of the way of the Spirit's working, while He (in His own good time, and His perfect way) does what He sees needs to be done in my husband's heart. I wore a shirt to work yesterday that says "Lord, Keep Your Arm Around My Shoulder, And Your Hand Over My Mouth." That thought, along with "I want you to please change ME, in any way You choose, to be whatever You want," remains my daily prayer.




Her first book, which came out in February of this year, is the story of Malchus, the chief servant of Caiaphas, the high priest in Jesus' time. She thought it would be interesting to take a you_neak (haha) look at the life of Christ through the eyes of His enemies. So Caiaphas' most trusted servant becomes (logically, as far as I'm concerned) his chief spy. Malchus follows Jesus all over Palestine, witnessing His miracles, but only to give his reports to his master, who wants Jesus dead and gone. Unable to deny the reality of what he sees, he convinces himself that Jesus must be in league with the devil in order to have such powers. After all, if He were really from God, wouldn't He have the support of the religious leaders of Israel? His battle against Jesus lasts right up to the point where Peter cuts off his ear in the garden, and when Jesus puts it back on Malchus' head and heals him, as Neak puts it, "Malchus looked into the eyes of God, and trembled." I told her if Malchus didn't really live that life, he certainly should've! He certainly missed a lot of excitement if he did something else. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

The new book is also about Jesus, but this time through the eyes of His friends, particularly Simon Peter. Each book can stand alone as a story, but together they view the scenes of Christ's life through opposite sides of the fence. Characters in each book appear and re-appear in the other. Malchus was a good story, but the story she weaves about Peter resonates with me intensely, for two main reasons. One is that a large share of the book involves the spiritual realm, where both good and evil angels battle, unseen and unperceived by the oblivious humans, for the allegiance of "their" people. Over and over she shows how we humans look at things, understand them, and react to them in exactly the opposite way from heavenly beings. It is often humorous to read, but a very potent lesson nevertheless. The second is that she shows in vivid detail how people can change when Jesus enters their hearts. Her pre-Jesus humans are cantakerous, quarrelsome, foolish, judgmental, etc., and so on...but when Jesus comes, things change in their hearts, their minds, their lives. I read that book and think to myself, "I KNOW these people. Doggone it, I've BEEN these people!" And I am encouraged to know that the God who could work miracles then has never changed, and His power is still available to me today. I'm more than 1/3, but less than 1/2 of the way through this book, checking for typos, misplaced modifiers, conversation that doesn't quite "flow." (IMHO) When I'm done, she'll give it a final read-through and make her own last corrections of my corrections and then it will be ready for the printer. She and Neaksis have to get the cover ready, although I've yet to see much progress on that front. The cover of Malchus had Neakbro for the model. I'm not sure who we're going to sucker into being Simon Peter. Fortunately they live near a lake that can be used for background, and when all the separate parts are assembled, somebody (absolutely not me!) will have to do a painting of it for the cover. I'm am going to have to get out my cattle prod pretty soon if they don't get busy. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />

I think it was the intense Bible study, and diligent prayer, that she did while writing both books--and especially book #2 with all the angel stuff--that prepared her to survive WH's affair and not to give up, but to pray and claim God's promises, and believe without a shadow of doubt that angels were being sent to answer HER prayers, too, just like in her book. Didn't keep her from wasting away for awhile, or feeling stressed, but between God and MB, she didn't fold. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" />

I'm SO tired. I can't imagine why I'm still awake and messing around with the computer, and I've still got 20 minutes of driving to get home, so will sign off and delete myself for now. Have a nice vacation. I expect we'll still be there when you get back. Goodness knows, if I'm going somewhere nobody's told ME about it yet! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Have a nice vacation, SS. I already had mine, so I can't even be too jealous! Thank you for asking after my book, a subject near and dear to any writer's heart. (Well, not my book specifically - each writer/their own book <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />)

Since t&l is busy, probably even still asleep, I'm going to perform a threadjack and post a few excerpts. While tha cat's away...


As he looked at Judas, suave, handsome, self-assured, obviously more at home in the city, Peter felt a pang of inadequacy for the task that lay ahead. Leaning over to Andrew, he said quietly, “I can see why Jesus picked Judas, but why did He choose the rest of us?”

Standing by Peter’s side, Tarik frowned in bewilderment. “I can see why Jesus picked all the rest of them, but why did He choose Judas?”

This section was authored by Moses, who wishes he could explain to Peter the deadly reality of the unseen war raging all about him...

How little Peter truly understood about the nature of the war raging, unseen, about him. True, it was great progress that he would even speculate on the existence of a spiritual conflict in a spiritual realm, but he had not even touched the surface. Jesus was patiently teaching him, but he still had so much to learn. I was there that day. I watched as Satan poured out millennia of hoarded sophistry over the dying form of my Savior, while the destiny of mankind—my own fate—hung in the balance. Oh yes, the war is very real.
As the voice of the Father rumbled from the heavens, saying, “This is my beloved Son,” the voice of the Spirit spoke to the heart of the Son, commanding, “Go into the desert.” And so, not knowing why the order was given, He humbly obeyed. Without stopping to gather any provisions for the journey, He walked through the crowd and into the wilderness.
What followed was almost more painful than I could bear. Jesus, the Majesty of heaven, the Creator of the universe, my dearest friend, was hungry. Starving. Wasting and shriveling in the heat. He lay panting on the very earth His hands had formed, hungering for a crust of bread.
During the day He crept down by the river, drinking from His cupped hands, pouring the cool water over his head. In the noonday sun He rested under the shade of a tree, sleeping very little in His growing discomfort. By night He wandered out into the desert, a long way at first, but shorter and shorter distances as His body grew weaker. Always He prayed ceaselessly to the Father, preparing His heart for the work He was to do. And only that constant connection with heaven kept Him sane, kept Him alive.
I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t drink. None of us could. It didn’t seem right that we should enjoy the bounties of the universe while our Maker suffered such deprivation. But the worst was watching Satan and his host press close, whispering their evil lies. Gabriel stood guard at a distance, forbidden to interfere. The Almighty One would not suffer the demons to touch Jesus, but allowed them to bear down on His mind with every artifice of their diabolical invention.
They tried to distract Him, break His lifeline of prayer, but He resisted them. They filled the air with fear, imitating the sound of vicious beasts about to attack, but He remained at peace. They chanted again and again that God had forsaken Him and left Him to die, but His love and trust never wavered. As days went by and the rebels made not the slightest gain, they became increasingly cruel and desperate.
At evening on the fortieth day, the Spirit commanded Him again. With the last of His strength he staggered on across the rocky desert, far beyond the reach of any human help. As the sun set He collapsed, every system in His body shutting down. Jesus was dying. He groaned aloud in torment. “Your will, Father. Only Your will.” His lips barely moved. His eyes flickered shut.
A meteoric light flashed across the sky to land beside Him. At the brightness, He opened His eyes and looked straight into the face of Gabriel. The angel bent lovingly over Him, gently lifting Him. “You don’t have to worry any more,” the angel said tenderly. “I’m here now. The Father sent me to help You.” He hesitated a moment, his brows lowering slightly in puzzlement. “At least, I think it was You.”
Gabriel—the real Gabriel—was nearly jumping up and down in outrage. “He can’t do that! How dare he pretend to be me? There must be something I can do!”
His frustration was felt by all, but the Spirit spoke to us patiently. “Wait and watch. This is a test He must face.”
Every evil angel from across the globe had assembled, circling the drama below them. They watched silently, poised to strike at Jesus and rend Him into subatomic particles the moment He failed.
The false Gabriel brushed the hair out of Jesus’ face with his hand and looked keenly into His eyes. “Please understand that I must make sure You are the One I was sent to help. I don’t know how much you remember from before, but there was a war in heaven. The wicked angels were cast down to this earth. We have been sternly warned by the Father to beware of this rebel’s tricks, so I just need to make sure who You really are before I can complete my mission. It would be disastrous if the live-giving food I bring fell into his evil hands.”
The angel caressed the fallen man soothingly. “All I need is for You to show me that You’re really God’s Son. See all the rocks around us? Just turn one into bread, and then I’ll know for sure.” He picked up a round, smooth stone and slipped it into Jesus’ trembling hands.
The scent of freshly-baked bread wafted through the desert, more delicious than that of a palace bakery. Jesus’ mouth tried to water, His empty salivary glands pricking painfully. Then He smelled the newly-pressed grape juice. Almost He could hear the rush of liquid as it poured from the pitcher into a cup. His throat contracted, and He couldn’t speak.
“Oh, no.” The angel began to look worried. “I am afraid I may have made a terrible mistake. Captain Elazar warned me something like this might happen. Then I find you here, alone in the desert, forsaken by God and cast off by men. What if you are the one he told me about? What if you are that wicked angel?” His face was pained, his voice pleading. “Please, if you would just show me one little miracle, it would set my mind at ease. I just need to know for certain.”
I held my breath, waiting to see what Jesus would do. The assault on His senses was nearly overpowering. Satan was using every possible human feeling against Him at once, and tempting Him in the area of man’s greatest weakness: appetite. It was this that had been the downfall of Adam and Eve, and the cause of untold sin and suffering since.
Jesus could so easily have done it; the stone was right there in His hands. All He would have had to do is speak a word and it would become bread. It would take but a single thought for a banquet table to appear before Him. But before He ever came down to earth, He agreed that He would not use His own power; He would rely completely on the Father, just as any human must do. For Him to break that agreement now would mean God’s power was not sufficient to keep man in the path of obedience. It would show that Satan had been right all along, and it would be the end of God’s kingdom.
As I had learned since my resurrection, from the very start of the rebellion, Satan’s primary complaint was that God’s rules were too hard to obey; that it wasn’t fair to punish him for breaking them when they were impossible to keep. A large part of what Jesus was to accomplish during His time as a man was to prove Satan’s accusation false.
The rock slid through His fingers, landing with a thud on the hard soil. Jesus finally spoke, His voice raspy and almost inaudible. “It is written in God’s word, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
I joined with the angels in a great shout of victory. Of course I recognized the words; they were my own, written by inspiration of Jehovah. As I remembered the rest of the passage, a shock ran through me. Little did I imagine as I wrote those words, as I led my people through the years of wandering in the wilderness, that I was living the foreshadowing of this day. Forty days for forty years.
“Remember how the Lord you God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep His commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.”
I raised my hands to the Father with joy. By His grace, I had helped to provide Jesus with the weapon He needed to defeat His enemy. My heart was filled to overflowing with humble gratitude. Surely the victory had been won!
For a moment anger flashed in the guileless blue eyes of Gabriel’s look-alike, but he stifled it so quickly it was barely noticeable. “You’re right,” he nodded. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Still, there must be some way you can confirm your identity.”
He scooped up the frail body of Jesus in his arms and launched into the air. Indignant exclamations could be heard everywhere. We followed behind, wondering that the Father would permit such contempt to be heaped on the Son.
The angel flew with tremendous speed to the highest peak of the dazzling Temple. He alit and set Jesus carefully down, supporting Him with one strong arm. “It’s so simple, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. All you have to do is jump. If you’re God’s Son, He will make sure you don’t get hurt. The Scriptures say, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’ Take God at His word, and trust in His promises. That’s what you would do, if you’re really the One.”
Jesus swayed and tried to swallow. The torches were so far below, and seemed to spin around in a wide, sweeping circle. The humanity in Him longed to make some grand display, a vast declaration of His sovereignty. He knew the power rested in His hands to leap off the pinnacle and drift gracefully down to the marble floor. The priests would be amazed, maybe even crown Him right there.
But that was not a part of His Father’s plan, and He determined to obey. “It is also written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
Again, cheers erupted from the heavenly watchers. Again I thrilled as Jesus used words from my Book of the Second Law to defeat His wily foe. Yet my joy was mixed with sorrow at the remembrance of the day I had disobeyed before the entire assembly of Israel. Later, I had written the passage from which Jesus had just quoted. “Do not test the Lord your God as you did at Massah. Be sure to keep the commands of the Lord your God and the stipulations and decrees he has given you. Do what is right and good in the Lord’s sight, so that it may go well with you and you may go in and take over the good land that the Lord promised on oath to your forefathers, thrusting out all your enemies before you, as the Lord said.”
Jesus had fulfilled every bit of that, keeping the commands of the Lord, and doing only what was right and good. Surely this would bring His test to an end. He had been tempted far beyond the threshold of any man or woman to walk the planet, and had emerged victorious. My eyes went to Gabriel—the real Gabriel—knowing he would receive the first order to intervene.
To my surprise, the order was not given. Even the demon horde expected to be sent away as usual, and fidgeted impatiently as they waited to see what would happen. They were all nervous and edgy, fully realizing that their destiny, balanced against the fallen race of man, stood on the blade of a knife. Yet in spite of this awareness, deep in their hearts they felt a spiteful smugness at the gross humiliation of their proud leader.
The angel straightened, an odd gleam in his eyes. “Two points for you. Very good,” he murmured. Gabriel’s features blurred and shifted, transforming into Lucifer, bearer of light. He looked a great deal like the representations I had seen of him during his time in heaven, though darker and somehow degenerated. Through some trick of this latest metamorphosis, his receding forehead appeared as noble as it had once been, before sin first made its mysterious appearance in his thoughts. Oddly enough, he chose not to appear before Jesus in his truest form.
All pretense of holiness gone, he sneered, “Look how your so-called Father of Love has treated you. He has abandoned you, just like He’s abandoned everyone else down here. Do you know what He has planned for you? I’ve read the same prophecies you have.” He leaned in close, whispering, “There’s another way. You don’t really have to die. Come with me and I’ll show you how.”
He seized Jesus by the shoulders in a show of superior strength. They shot into the sky above the city of Jerusalem and descended with a rush. Emboldened by the lack of any imposed restraint, Satan raced along just above the ground, Jesus held firmly in his huge hands.
In the darkness, the ride was petrifying. Jesus heaved, but His mouth remained parched. In less than a minute they had reached their destination; the top of Mount Nebo. Satan dropped Jesus precipitously on the hard ground. He stood to his full height, towering above the crumpled Man. “Here you showed Moses the land of your infernal promise. Here, I show you the world.”
He swept his hands grandly, and the sky lit up. Suddenly, he was standing in an Egyptian palace, with Jesus prone on the floor before the Pharaoh. All around them were brightly painted reliefs, created by the finest artist of the time.
The picture began to move as if they were walking through on a royal tour. They skimmed along the Nile and rested atop a pyramid. One after another, the sights, sounds, and smells of the world’s greatest civilizations flowed by in all their gaudy array. Faster and faster they flashed in an overwhelming display.
At last they melded into one image, frozen in time. A beam of light illuminated Satan as he spread his arms wide, lifting into the sky and slowly rotating. “I am the god of this world!” His shout echoed for miles. “All that you see is mine!”
He laughed fiendishly, dropping to Jesus’ side. In a hushed voice, he added, “And I will give it to you. No more pain, no more hunger. You can escape the hideous death awaiting you at my hand, and win back everything lost by Adam. The power and wealth of the earth will be yours. All men will bow before you and call you Lord.”
His voice was silky, hypnotic. “Yes, I will give it all to you if you will do just one little thing. Bow down and worship me. Just once will be enough, and then it will all be yours.” He put his face very close to Jesus, grasping His chin and lifting His head. His gaze bored deep into Jesus’ eyes, the blue of his own shifting smoothly to black. Satan focused his full mental energy, honed with thousands of years of practice, toward bending the will of Jesus to his own. “Worship me,” he whispered again.
I wondered what Jesus would do, how in His weakened stated He could counter this cunning deception, and I prayed that He would not fail. Jesus raised His eyes toward heaven, refusing to look upon the devil or argue logic with him. “Get away from me, Satan.” The powerful being next to Him lurched and tumbled end over end, sprawling ungracefully on the ground. Satan could just hear the hoarse whisper as Jesus said, “It is written, ‘Worship your God, and serve him only.’” The Creator slumped over with the effort, His life measured in minutes.
In the human realm, that command would have seemed very weak, but the barest murmur of one of God’s children can topple the most fearsome forces of unseen evil. Not only Satan, but all his angels were thrust far out of sight, well past the distant horizon. Sunk into unconsciousness, Jesus didn’t even know they were gone.
In the blink of an eye Gabriel was at His side, holding sweet, soft manna and life-giving water. He picked up Jesus and held Him on his lap like a child. Jesus opened His eyes, and I knew by His face He mistrusted the information of His senses. He shook His head weakly, refusing to eat just yet.
Jesus closed His eyes and moved His lips in prayer. A few moments later He opened them, a smile of relief on His face. “We won.” Gabriel nodded silently as Jesus reached up and shakily touched his tear-stained cheek. “Thank you.” This time He accepted the nourishment gratefully, feeling the life creep back through His body.
His stomach, greatly shrunken from the ordeal, Jesus ate only a handful of food and drank a few sips of water before falling into exhausted slumber. The sun was just rising, and Elazar helped Gabriel move their Commander under the shade of a scraggly tree.
Throughout the day they sat by Him, shading and fanning Him with their wings. When evening came, He awoke briefly, consuming another small meal before dozing once more. Three days passed thus before He was sufficiently recovered to travel. Jesus clung to Gabriel and Elazar a long while, stepping back as they faded from sight. He touched His fingers to His lips and raised His hand in a gesture of farewell before turning toward the Jordan.
“Go to Bethabara,” the Spirit said. “I have arranged a meeting for You there.” So having been fed by the same heavenly food my people and I had eaten for forty years, Jesus walked slowly but steadily out of the wilderness.

Have a great weekend.....................................

No, really, Neak, ALL writers think your book is near and dear to their hearts!! Double rolled eyes...



Hmm-m-m-m-mph. And you said MY post was long! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> At least you didn't quote all 400+ pages!! Since you didn't explain who Tarik is, I guess I will. Tarik is Peter's guardian angel, and in that snippet, he was speaking to another Guardian. It makes sense that the angels would've been mystified by the selection of Judas. THEY knew what he was really like, after all!

t&l

OK, you can quit playing now, Neak. I've bought a thicker skin and some body armor and am prepared to wade back into the fray again. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> Proof-positive that all the people all those years who suspected me of having a screw loose were...RIGHT! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

I don't enjoy going to work 72 hrs/wk. It's not any fun, and a stupid way to live, but it's manageable for me...as long as every night isn't busy. Lately, however, I have not been merely "employed," but I've been at "WORK," which is very different. I have been forced to labor very hard, although not exactly in the same manner my patients have been forced to labor. Thank goodness! Tonight, I am "employed." Sh-h-h-h. Don't tell anybody. It's only 10:30 PM, and there's still plenty of time between now and 7AM for things to go seriously belly-up on us here. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/wink.gif" alt="" /> I figure if the other nurses are able to plot a Starbuck's run, I ought to be able to visit MB and see what's been going on the past few days While I Was Not Sleeping. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/tongue.gif" alt="" />

If there's time later (and after the ingestion of some Tylenol and a caffeinated substance), I might feel intelligent and motivated enough to tiptoe a few steps farther down Memory Lane, but for right now I can at least attempt to provide a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine of my past go down just a bit better, by telling a recent anecdote involving HP and me. He knows (and has for many years) about the inmate who offered to kill him for me in exchange for his insurance money, as well as the reason their plane almost crashed when Neak was a baby...and yet, he still feels safe to turn his back on me, and to sleep with both eyes closed. To his everlasting credit, he has never even once brought my past indiscretions up to me during disputes, and there have been some doozies. He has displayed more self-control in this, and more grace, than I would've if our positions had been reversed. I feel I must give credit where it's due, although I am unable to get intolerably googly and mushy about it, since he's certainly found plenty else to be unpleasant about over the years. However, that's neither here nor there...

I have long regretted my EA with the previously-described inmate, and recognized the foolishness--no, make that the completely mindless idiocy--of the whole thing. But only on my own terms (How could a smart girl like me have been so stupid?). I think that always in the back of my mind was lurking the idea that he'd been such a [censored] to me he almost DESERVED to be dumped on. But when Neak's husband decided to stray, and I was forced to watch her as she experienced such devastating pain, I began to have a whole new take on what I had done so long ago. HP likes to sail on placid waters. He doesn't care how many monsters lurk beneath the surface as long as none of them are making waves around his personal ship. I've sort of come to share that approach to life, as well, and generally try not to rile calm waters, either. So I was hesitant (to put it mildly) to bring up what could have been a very loaded subject, but finally one night I told him, "You know, HP, I've always regretted the whole thing with ***, and wondered how I could've been so stupid. But until I saw what happened to Neak, and realized how painful it is to be betrayed like that, I've never really been actually sorry for what it did to you...and I just wanted to tell you that I AM sorry now. I'm sorry I hurt you, and I hope you'll forgive me." He came over gave me a hug, kissed me on the forehead, and...the tar baby said nothing. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> But then, the tar baby generally says nothing, so it wasn't too much of surprise, and I DID get a hug and a kiss out of it! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> I think he's part clam. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

So what's my point? Actually, we could skip the whole rest of my life story, and we'd still get to the same conclusion just with what I've said right here. Everybody makes mistakes in their marriages. You do your best to make them right, and to not repeat them. Be sorry where you should be. Say so. Beyond that, it's pretty much out of your control. One person alone can't build a two-person relationship. If the other person can't or won't build with you, then by George, bloom where you're planted anyway, even if your flower pot's only got you in it. And <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />! "The joy of the Lord is your strength." So be strong. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" /> There are no extra points for being miserable.

t&l

I think I'm tired of talking about my life. In addition to being painfully uncomfortable to discuss (for all the jokes I make about it), it seems to me to be having negative effects precisely at odds with what its telling was intended to do on this particular site.

Let me leave you with two of my life-long-favorite snippets of poetry. I think these words will resonate with some of you, too.

"For all sad words of tongue and pen,
The saddest are these, 'It might have been.'"
John Greenleaf Whittier

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a word of it."
from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

I can no more undo my past than any of you can undo yours. May I extend my wish that each one of you may be able to find the future God has for you, for in it, you will also find fulfillment, satisfaction, joy, pleasure, acceptance, restoration...and peace. He has given me these gifts, which I surely do not deserve, and for this I offer Him my thanks.

God bless you all.

t&l

T&L,

You up?

Working?

I'm going to bed. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" />

However, I hope nothing I sed (not good at joking, am I), had any effect on your dissatisfaction with giving the total life report.

You are an interesting lady - certainly full of life - and I'm sure your kids, and your patients, and your H are very glad you are what you are.

Oh, well, you know what I mean.

-AD

Neak and T&L,

Just skimming over your exceprt, I was reminded of Bulgakov, although his purpose (entertainment?) and tone are very different.

You have read "Master and Margarita" "Master and Margarita", yes?


-AD

Yes.


Of course. I don't stay up all night unless somebody is is paying me to do it. Hm-m-m-m. That's open to some alternative interpretations, isn't it?


Good thinking. I'll go with you. I mean, in the SAME TIME FRAME!!!!


Not exactly, although I wasn't positive you were joking until you said so. I think Pep's analysis bothered me the most, although there were others that were somewhat disconcerting, which is, in itself, somewhat disconcerting. I accept my HP's emotional/relational handicaps, and am content to let him be who is is. But at the same time, I get blasted tired of getting complained at about every little dandelion fluff that blows across his life's field of vision, when I'm working as hard and as fast as I can (wthout any assistance from him), trying to help solve problems and bear burdens I didn't actually make, so tired sometimes I can hardly see straight. Because of this (we've been married 34 years, after all), I freely admit I have become hypersensitive to complaints or criticisms, not in the sense that they destroy my sense of worth, but in the sense that I'm sick and tired of it already, and just don't want to listen to any more, even if they're deserved, and especially when they're not. Most of the time, I try to maintain a low-enough profile that I can fly under everybody's radar. Hard to do that, though, when you go on the internet and start trotting out almost every piece of dirty laundry you've every soiled. I'm not trying to deny anybody the right to have an opinion about the things I've said. I'm not even suggesting that people who have opinions shouldn't have the right to express them openly. But at the same time, I recognize that I'm not suddenly going to change into somebody going, "You don't like what I did? You think something is WRONG with me? I haven't heard THAT one before, and I'm just fascinated. Do tell me all about it!" Especially in dealing with past events that are decades old, and totally beyond fixing. I'm not explaining this well, am I? (Doggone it, I've got blood on my tennis shoes. Guess I'd better quit looking at my feet until I'm ready to clean them up.) Let's just say that (IMHO) some facades are good, and I'm really ambivalent about nuking the few slivers of it I've got left!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />


I don't think my husband is at all glad I am what I am, but I do think he's glad I'm not what I was! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> I'm sure he'd rather have a docile, obedient type, and I'll be that right after I welcome and embrace his steady critiques of my character and performance. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" /> In other words, not today. And quite frankly, tomorrow's not looking good for him either. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

Well, a pt. just rolled through the door, sitting off to one side of the wheelchair, never a good sign for the nurse hoping she's got someone she can send home in an hr! Enough employment. Time for work.

t&l

t&l,

I have appreciated your willingness to share your story, and respect that you've shared all that you're willing to.

In my imperfect life one of the "gifts" is that I no longer need to feel judgmental of others, and it rarely occurs to me to be critical. My only exceptions seem to be with others who deal with my children. It simply brings out the worst in me when I suspect other adults are being unkind to my children. It's at times like these I am less than civilized!!

A gift I've seen for you is that through Neak's pain of being a BS - you felt her pain and were able to empathize with your husband to the extent that you gave him a sincere apology for your past behavior that caused him pain! And you got a hug and a kiss out of the deal!

Peace of mind for you too as well! Personally I think you've been brave to trot out all those past memories - far braver than me....but I've been around here for a few years and have learned the "culture" of what's acceptable on this board!

Thanks for flying above the radar for a little while and sharing your story with us!

Please pardon me for jumping in here, ladies. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

'Neak, I just read your excerpt, and all I can say is WOW....just WOW. I would love to be on the lookout for the book when it's published, if you feel comfortable letting us know the author's name. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/wink.gif" alt="" />

And T & L, I also appreciate the parts of your story that you've shared here. I'm one of those that bumped the "viewed" number up daily. I believe you have an immense amount of wisdom to share. Anyone can fabricate intelligence, but only God gives us wisdom. And I think He only gives it to people who won't hoard it to be used only for their own benefit.

Thank you both for sharing. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" />

Lori

Do you have a desire, and are you motivated, to make yours a happy and fulfilling marriage?

My intent, to be clear, is to hear either a yes or no response from you.

Technically, I haven't shared all I'm "willing to." There was a reason I turned from the direction I was heading, and started back the other way. The man who told me, "I will love you the rest of my life. Now go away and leave me alone," never married, and loves me still, although he and I are not in contact, and I very much admire in him the respect I see for my husband, my marriage, and me, as well as the fact that when he didn't feel like he found somebody else he loved enough to spend his life with, he at least didn't go around and screw up someone else's future and happiness for his own sake. How I found that out, and what I did about it were still 25 years in future from where I left off. I was a bit apprehensive about coming to that part of the story, for fear that it would be misinterpreted ( You heard it right. I DID say "misinterpreted") and call down condemnation, blame, and, yes, 2x4s on my head. I did NOT expect to get people in a swivet with what I've told so far, particularly since it's so far in the past and there's nothing I can do about it anyway. That whole "Moving Finger" thing, you know. I hate to come across as a weak, delicate, fragile little thing that needs to be sheltered from sun and wind, heat and cold, protected from wilting, and coaxed to bloom. It's NOT who I am. Goodness knows I could USE a little sheltering! But I never, EVER knowingly seek to make trouble for myself. I've got enough of it in life without any help from me, thank you very much. And as I looked at what there was of my story left to tell, and what had come of it so far, it quit looking like any sort of fun at all, if it could be called "fun" to invite everybody over to first take a microscopic look at my warts, and then finish things off with a colonoscopy! No anesthesia.

Pep said, within the first few days of the beginning of this thread, that it could be "irrelevant," "irreverent," and "conversational." That sounded to me like a great invitation, and very attractive to participate in. But as time passed, the "humorous asides" became "grotesque," my "own bad self" left a "bad taste" in the mouth of the person who invited my to write in the first place, I-don't-remember-who basically said that if she'd had a mother like me, she'd "have needed counselling." Etc., etc. And I had to ask myself, "Is this fun any more?" And Myself said, "Nope, it isn't."

I already said I'm not trying to keep people from having opinions about anything. Not trying to keep them from expressing them, anywhere and in any way they want. I'd be perfectly happy to go back to having fun on this thread. It was a LOT of fun for me, and I loved it. I'm not even, in principle, opposed to telling the rest of my story. (And if I quit, I'm going to have to listen to Neak, for who-knows-how-long, saying, "You shoulda done it, Mom. People were interested." Yeah, and I'm interested in being rich...and less-employed, too, and that certainly hasn't happened yet either!) I AM opposed to offending people without needing or wanting to, however, or making unnecessary difficulties for myself...OVER THINGS I CAN'T CHANGE ANYWAY!!!! Pant, pant. Whe-e-e-e-eze.



Between you and me--we two--I think that makes one of us!



Thank you. I hope it helped something for you. If nothing else, it should've made people realize, "Hey, I may have done things I shouldn't have, but at least I wasn't as bad as HER!" <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />

t&l

This book is going to be out before Christmas, one way or another. Maybe by then, Neak can find out if it would be considered unacceptable commercial board activity to put a picture of the cover on the thread, and/or info on where it could be found. She will be very flattered that you liked it, when she reads your post. By the time I'm done with this editing, I think I will have read it 6 times, so it's not quite as "fresh" as it once was, but even this time through, there are still things that make me smile and that I can enjoy.



Thank you for your kind words. If I have any wisdom, it was certainly "bought" through my prior Doofushood, is all I can say. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

t&l,

Words fail me for the moment - but I can't stress enough the importance of your telling what you're willing of your story....There is a message here - at more than one level that I think needs to be heard.

Maybe it's that you've made mistakes, and are willing to tell what you've learned as a result...I don't know that's not exactly what I want to say, so I'll be back if I can articulate more effectively!

Pep, I cannot give you a plain yes or no answer to a yes-of-course-that-would-be-lovely-but-I-don't-believe-it-could-ever-be-possible question. Until my husband's pain at keeping his secrets buried EXCEEDS his pain at bringing them out into the open to deal with them, he will continue to be inaccessible to me or anybody else. I see changes occurring in his heart. So far less towards me than towards his kids, but changes nevertheless. I'm not going to muck around in his progress and mess it up. Been there. Done that. Failed miserably.

My husband admits that he has deliberately cultivated an attitude of hard-heartedness and stoicism over the course of his life. He was proud of the way he could shut people out. I choose to let him change at his own pace, to accept as his best effort whatever he's able to do, and to leave the rest alone. Sorry if that's not the right answer. It's the best I can do with what I've got.

t&l

t&l
I am very interested in your story, actually in everybody's story! I love lief stories because they are life lessons! and even if we all have a story, not everyone is willing to share it and many times people are not willing to listen. I always find a lesson...

I would love to hear the rest of your story if you want to tell it.

But if not I must thank you for what you have told us so far. It has actually been very enlightening, because it is real. I know, because I have had experiences similar to yours. Thank you