Winding down my month today, and the winds of change feel present. Tomorrow I have to appear in court for the restraining order. (yuck) I haven't seen or spoke with her in months and thinking about the sight of her after she pulls this s**t turns my stomach.
I haven't any idea what will happen but I resolve myself to addressing only what is pertinant and not being dragged into petty personal issues. We are D and there isn't any contact!
I am done with her as she is now and the past is only in my memories. It is sad to walk away from, what I thought, was the rest of my life. My feelings are less severe and she is being slowly placed with my other 3 loves on the shelf.
I still breathe so the book of my life goes on.
I'll participate and wait for my happy ending!
praying for peace and serenity for all
cire
Me 48 X's vary S 27 S 18 Back with high school sweety after 30 years..
..and praying with you. You can see that you are not alone in this lonely walk. I/we walk beside you. FIB
Me 55; XW 47; 2 kids (S13, D11) Bomb 05/19/06 Original thread http://tinyurl.com/yg2ou2t Last anniversary 04/25/10, Divorced 5/12/10 Status: Loving father of 2 beautiful children;
Court this morning; She's there when I walk in and sitting up front. I sit a few rows back. She doesn't look back at me until after the court asks if I am there.
Haven't seen that kind of disdain in about 8 yrs. Not since the kids mom and I in court. Ugh! Didn't have any feelings for her after the look she gave.
It turns out I wasn't served timely so it is pushed back till the 16th. Nobody was there with her, and now I have time to put together a decent response to her allegations. Hopefully she won't bring in anyone to testify next court date. That just makes it more difficult.
Talked with my attorney and he mentioned a few points I may have trouble with. Even though it is stuff from over a yr. ago and we had reconciled. A perception is all it takes sometimes. Need an attorney but mine now isn't for family law. More money to spend that I don't have.
This being stressful enough, I go to my old shop to continue moving out my belongings, and i'm locked out again. What an a$$! So now I have a call into one of the landlords attorneys who has helped get me access and he says he'll try and have landlord give me access to remove remaining items. I feel squeezed!
A nice stress heart attack would be good about now...
I am stuck and don't know what to do, (besides pray).
I wonder if these are my life altering events...
cire
p.s. A question to those who read my post, would you rather see the inspirational stuff, my crap, or a combination?
Me 48 X's vary S 27 S 18 Back with high school sweety after 30 years..
Combo, bro. Get your stuff out on here for you too though. This isn't about us, it's about you.
Sorry for the court stuff this morning. Sounds like she is being very cold and merciless. Also sorry about the shop sitch. When it rains it pours, I guess. Hope things get better for you here in the very near future, and that things go well on the 16th (that is my final D day).
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.
Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.
The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him."
Brian's Essay: The Room...
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.
I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.
He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room.. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way forward it so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?
IF THERE IS ONE EMAIL THAT I HAVE READ THAT NEEDS TO GO AROUND THE WORLD, IT IS THIS ONE, FOR THE CHRISTIAN OR NOT! MAY GOD BLESS YOU ALL!
You don't have to share this with anybody, no one will know whether you did or not, but you will know and so will He.
Me 48 X's vary S 27 S 18 Back with high school sweety after 30 years..
cire...great to talk to you. Remember...preference..not a need. Let go and try to move on. You are not alone and I pray you get strength in knowing that. I support you. FIB
Me 55; XW 47; 2 kids (S13, D11) Bomb 05/19/06 Original thread http://tinyurl.com/yg2ou2t Last anniversary 04/25/10, Divorced 5/12/10 Status: Loving father of 2 beautiful children;
Love is not blind - it sees more, not less. But because it sees more, it is willing to see less. Rabbi Julius Gordon
Love all, trust a few. Do wrong to none.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "All's Well That Ends Well", Act 1 Scene 1
Always remember others may hate you but those who hate you don't win unless you hate them. And then you destroy yourself.
Richard M. Nixon (1913 - 1994), in his White House farewell
Misfortune shows those who are not really friends. Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC), Eudemian Ethics
The shifts of Fortune test the reliability of friends. Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC), De Amicitia
Have no friends not equal to yourself. Confucius (551 BC - 479 BC), The Confucian Analects
Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love. Jane Austen (1775 - 1817), Northanger Abbey
When the character of a man is not clear to you, look at his friends. Japanese Proverb
Guard well within yourself that treasure, kindness. Know how to give without hesitation, how to lose without regret, how to acquire without meanness. George Sand (1804 - 1876)
I've arrived at this outermost edge of my life by my own actions. Where I am is thoroughly unacceptable. Therefore, I must stop doing what I've been doing. Alice Koller, An Unknown Woman, 1982
There is no revenge so complete as forgiveness. Josh Billings (1818 - 1885)
Me 48 X's vary S 27 S 18 Back with high school sweety after 30 years..
You must have missed the SUCCESSFUL free hugs campaign. lol FIB
Me 55; XW 47; 2 kids (S13, D11) Bomb 05/19/06 Original thread http://tinyurl.com/yg2ou2t Last anniversary 04/25/10, Divorced 5/12/10 Status: Loving father of 2 beautiful children;
