“How do you reconcile your love for someone with the revelation that they have behaved badly and I don’t know the answer to that,” she said. 

Savannah Guthrie was friends and co-anchors with Matt Lauer from the “Today Show,” who was recently accused of sexual misconduct and fired. Her quote wasn’t extremely articulate or well put, but she had just found out hours earlier and was still processing through her shock at having to report on a friend. I love this quote more than I can express because of the rawness to it. 

So, what do you do when you have been betrayed by someone you cared about- someone you trusted and were friends with? That moment when you are left shocked and confused by their actions? This post isn’t in regards to just sexual misconduct, there are many, many other demons out there that people will do anything to keep hidden. Today, I will attempt to address this.

First of all, none of us are perfect. None. Some people definitely embrace depravity and evil and there is always a choice of wrong or right in front of every decision we make. This is in no way an attempt to defend Matt Lauer, any accusation of sexual misconduct is disgusting to me and if he did whatever he is accused of I hope he is penalized and prosecuted to the fullest extent.

What I’m trying to set up here is that even the little, normal struggles in our day to day life that we don’t want anyone knowing can cause us to spend palpable effort to be perceived as someone we aren’t. Often times it’s those decisions to hide patterns of behavior that can develop into something much bigger and more toxic over time. At the end of the day humanity is capable of atrocious behaviors and the biggest lie is to think it could never be “ME”.  That being said, the shame, condemnation and consequences of being found out for those choices drives many people to secrecy and to lie to the ones they love the most. So, I understand why people do what they do, it’s human nature and I imagine many hollywood execs, movie stars, politicians, news anchors, etc are sweating tonight wondering if they’ll be tomorrow’s headline.  

So, how do those of us who are on THIS side process this…? It’s hard to be the one who is shocked by a terrible revelation about a friend, not directly hurt or abused as the primary victim if there is one, which is much more devastating and tragic, but little is said of secondary victims by association. You see the news stories where friends or family members of someone who committed a terrible crime are struggling with basic words to the reporter, finally stammering out through tears, “I just had no idea… I’m in shock”.

I think that every one of us is capable of some deceit but perhaps some of us are more inclined towards it in more extreme ways than others. Maybe I’m wrong in saying that but as far as I go, typically I’m pretty honest and straightforward. I’m ready to admit fault but that’s not something I think highly of myself for– simply the terrifying burden of hiding is just not worth it to me. I have enough anxiety issues as it is, I’d rather just come clean and deal with the consequences of my actions than carry something around.

But, like the quote from Savannah Guthrie who is grappling with the accusations against Matt Lauer because they are in complete conflict to the person she thought she knew who was a good friend to her- how do you move forward? It’s not as simple as forgiving and moving on.  There is this confusing pain and grief that is pulling you apart inside, one moment you feel the loss of the relationship, than the next moment there is the anger at betrayal coupled with the feelings of “I should have known something was wrong” even when there was no possible way of knowing. Hindsight is 20/20 and carries with it the heavy weight of shame.  

So after processing all of this because of a painful experience I had this year with a friend who I thought I knew, my answer to the question she posed is this:

1. Forgive yourself first and stop beating yourself up. Remind yourself there was nothing you could have done when they hid so much, so well, for so long.
2. Forgive them second, or when you are able to. Realize it had nothing to do with you- it was about their own addictions and demons they chose not to deal with. 
3. Breathe deep, love and take care of yourself.
4. STOP looking backwards at those behaviors that suddenly seem so obvious. You had no idea you were being lied to, after all, this was someone who you trusted who was close to you. You have no idea if you are right or not and unless someone wants to change, you couldn’t have helped them.
5. DON’T lose confidence in your discernment and intuition. Many people who are hiding a lot are masters of emotional intelligence and can easily manipulate you, abusing your faith in them and your goodness.
6. Realize that people will surprise and betray you throughout your life and that as you get older you will learn to work through the pain quicker and blame yourself less.
7. Finally, NEVER stop seeing the potential and good in people. If you let those few people change your outlook on those around you you are letting them win.  

Yesterday when my friend Jacqueline (Creative Outpour) reached out to me for this Grateful November daily challenge I wasn’t completely sold on the idea. Don’t get me wrong, I love the intentional pursuit of thankfulness and think it’s easy to get caught up in life and forget to remember the good. However, I haven’t been able to write in a while and I could feel myself thinking of all the to-do’s I’d need to get done before I could participate. Like, write an *amazing blog post*, update my Facebook page with a new profile pic and header image, update my blog’s theme, etc etc etc… blah blah blah

You know what I realized (AGAIN)? I’m a crazy perfectionist who gets so caught up in my head that I freeze.

What I’m learning about myself lately is that although I know things intellectually, there is often a barrier to my heart really getting it. I’m seeing this in many different areas of my life. I have good intentions, my effort is there but in many ways I’m just performing- mostly for myself- without even being aware of it.

Sometimes the best thing to do in order to be healthy is to just DO IT, even if it’s not perfect or right. (Obvious things to say but much harder to live out.)

So right now, I’m grateful to Jacqueline for (accidentally haha) challenging me to deal with my perfectionist tendencies and who has already been such an incredible encouragement to me. Please join in the challenge of a Grateful November using the hashtag #GratefulNovember.

Photo creds to Jodi Dunn (our service tech Kevin’s mom)

Fall has been my favorite season for as long as I can remember. There is something that wakens and quickens me… something far down deep in my soul that is hard to even put words to. Anticipation is all around- I am eagerly waiting.

Equally I find myself constantly lost in my thoughts and staring off towards the mountains-  and perhaps it’s the juxtaposition of both that provides the wonderful tension that makes me love fall as I do.  I always think of my favorite F Scott Fitzgerald quote about life starting all over again in the fall and, for me, this time of year serves as a reset, in a New Year’s Resolution kind of way.

Experiencing the fullness of this season for the first time in the mountains has been life giving, I’m constantly aware of my surroundings and mentally comparing the differences of fall in Summit County to Fayetteville. There is a dry crispness and intense brightness here that is dazzling.

Photo creds to Jodi Dunn (our service tech Kevin’s mom)

I was hiking at a new place recently and kept pushing harder, going faster, forcing my legs to keep going up a hill until my lungs burned and I couldn’t breathe. It’s a place of quiet that my busy mind rarely goes to. All around me was heaven, the light filtering through the aspens, creating a golden hue that made my heart hurt. The wind whispered through the woods, twirling the branches, turning the leaves into glittering orbs and making a kaleidoscope of shadows.  I was intensely aware of the sweet smell of the forest decay and where I was on this crowded planet.  Small, brightly colored leaves littered the soft trail, like confetti celebrating the return of the cold and quiet months.

And I welcome it too, the death of life to make way for another season. It seems odd to celebrate fall sometimes, maybe it’s the acceptance and finality of it that allows us to see the beauty in it.  Wouldn’t it be great if we were like this with most of our lives? Instead of fearing change and trying to perfect our lives we simply embraced the reality that life is messy and beyond our control? All of life is like this really, seasons of life and death.  A time of life can be over and that is really ok if we have the right perspective and let go of our preconceived notions of what a situation should have been.

I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately and how it’s such a process for most. I’ve heard people speak of it when they are ready to go, with a tiredness yet a joy. It seems morbid, but seeing life through that filter the last few weeks has been fascinating.

Recently it was the anniversary of the death of Rich Mullins and I listened to him share-  “So go out and live real good and I promise you’ll get beat up real bad. But, in a little while after you’re dead, you’ll be rotted away anyway. It’s not gonna matter if you have a few scars. It will matter if you didn’t live.”

It’s simple really- and I want to live life.

Recently I’ve felt a bit convicted about how I do TOO MUCH for them and decided to really let them own the process of cleaning their room.  I set them up for success, assigning specific tasks to each of them so they wouldn’t be overwhelmed. I have read lots of articles on parenting insane energetic children and felt pretty good about myself. I got them water bottles, made sure they had a huge breakfast and sent them to it with the reward of getting to go swimming in the afternoon to motivate them. I felt good. Perhaps a bit smug even. “I got this parenting thing,” I probably thought to myself.

This is how my morning actually went…

Before they are actually in the room.

1. Denial. “Ha ha! Yeah right, I DON’T WANT to clean my room,” Sawyer laughed as he walked away from me shaking his head at my hilarity. Ummm no, this is FOR REALS. Imma gonna have stop you there champ and redirect you back to you room.

2. Manipulation. Screechy voiced complaints, complete with large tears- “BUT I DON’T WANT TO CLEAN MY ROOM, IT’S SO HARD AND I DONT KNOW WHERE ANYTHING GOES AND I NEED YOU TO HEEEEEEEELP ME!”

Then it switches to “cute face”. “You know you can’t resist my face when I do THIS!”  Oh but I CAN child. 

Once they are actually IN the room.

3. Confusion. “MOM- where do I put shirts?” Me: “in the pile of shirts that I told you to put the other shirts that aren’t in that pile. You know, the shirts that are scattered all over the room. The pile that is right by your feet, actually you are partially standing on that pile.  The one right there- LOOK DOWN DANGIT. <calmer> If it is a shirt, please put it there. If it is socks, put them in the sock pile. If it is underwear <boys snicker> put it in the underwear pile <they snicker again>.”

4. Focus. I can hear their conversation in the room- their attempt at a pep talk to encourage each other. “OK, I’ll get the jeans and you get the shirts!” “RIGHT! Team work!”- (This stage lasts approximately 30 seconds to 3 minutes).

5. Violence.  <hearing screams from the room> “SUMMIT slapped me with his sports coat!” “Sawyer punched my FAVORITE shirt!” “But I was just trying to straighten it out!” (<– how stupid does he think I am?)

<hearing screams from room AGAIN> “Sawyer threw a shirt at me!” “Well, HE showed his middle finger at me!” “But I hurt my finger… “<showing me his finger that has a microscopic scratch on it>. Me: “Sawyer, he did not MEAN to show his middle finger at you- (I mean, who knows at this point) but even if he did, that wasn’t an appropriate way to react. Summit, please try not to show your middle finger, it’s rude. (Cause it’s good not to make a huge deal out of things that kids don’t understand apparently.)”

6. Focus. (Second attempt) I can hear their conversation in the room- their attempt to get back in the game and accomplish SOMETHING so they can leave their room and get to go swimming later today.  “OK, I’ll get the clothes and you put the books on the shelf!” “RIGHT! Team work!”- (This stage lasts approximately 30 seconds to 3 minutes).

7. Insanity. They have completely given up at this point. The room actually looks worse than when they began but they are best friends now, joined against the evil parents who are trying to make them clean their room. They are giggling and playing under the covers of the bed I just made, destroying it.

8. Playing.  This is the point when the adrenaline of insanity has worn off and usually about a few hours in. This is when they play like the perfect children I always dreamed of having but rarely see. Where they are using their imagination, getting along, laughing exuberantly and sharing. *Never mind the fact* it’s in complete rebellion to the task as hand. I’ll take this step as it typically lasts around 45-90 minutes.

“Mom!” said in cheerful rebellion, “I am having SO MUCH fun playing! I think I’d rather play!” Me, matching the gleeful cheer: “Great, well you guys have fun playing!” (Note: No mention of cleaning the room at this point. This will allow the next step to be much more impactful as they look around to the crushing reality of their destroyed room.)

9. Reality. One of them finally snaps and realizes that I will win. That as much as fun playing happily together in rebellion is- that I’m calm and not micro-managing the cleaning process all of the sudden.

A guilty Sawyer crawls into my room. “Uhh. Mom. I forgot what I’m suppose to do.” Me, cheerfully: “Clean your room.” Sawyer, slowly: “oh yeahhhhhh.” then switches to his alter ego, Roary the bear, in an attempt to be cute: “Roary doesn’t want to clean his room!” < smiles adorably>. Me, smiling equally adorably: “Go back to your room and start with putting hangers on your clothes!”

Comes back 5 minutes later, all of the sudden the picture of extreme maturity: “Mom, we need you to guide us.”

Me, barely keeping it together: “Hangers. On. Clothes.”

10. Resignation. (myself) 4-5 hours in their blood sugar finally needs replenishing.

They start fighting again, (see #5)  “OH! WHY DID YOU THROW THE HANGER AT ME SAWYER! HOW DARE YOU!”

OR they creep out of their room for extended “bathroom” breaks and end up with toothpaste in their water bottles because they wanted to see what “mint-flavored” water tastes like and I give up. (For now. I WILL WIN THE WAR!)

Me, sadly: “OK, just go eat lunch, we’ll try again after we eat.”

REPEAT CYCLE OF INSANITY UNTIL ROOM LOOKS MODERATELY BETTER OR AN ER VISIT IS REQUIRED.

*** Update- 5+ hours from the beginning… I swear I only helped a little bit…

“Writing! I’m actually writing!” I said, full of glee and excitement.

He looked at me blank faced, “Oh? What are you writing?”

and I looked at him in confusion, “Like- I’m writing. I’m a writer.” (duhhhhhh!)

“Are you writing a book?”

“Maybe… someday.” I trailed off as I realized that he didn’t know me as a writer. I haven’t been able to write in months. It’s almost as if the last few years I’ve struggled deeply with what to say, it used to flow so easily. I make time, sit down with everything set up for writing and then my mind goes blank.

The reality that this kid who I’ve seen almost every day since October didn’t know this about me shocked and alarmed me as I still consider being a writer as my primary identity.

A week or so before this I was catching up with an old friend who asked me if I had been writing and commented that they were worried about me because I haven’t been. My parents have stopped asking me if I am writing…  I’m not sure what is going on and I’ve even thought through times in my past where I had writer’s block. Usually it was when I was needing to process something but was procrastinating or that what I was suppose to say I didn’t feel like sharing with a critical world.

I’ve not really wanted to be seen, I suppose. 

I enjoy posting pictures of our pretty life here but haven’t wanted to really be KNOWN, if that makes sense.  Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s busyness. I’m not sure but suddenly I can write again and I don’t know what has changed.

At least once a week Ben or I just look at each other in amazement of the fact that WE GET TO LIVE HERE. We were called here, it’s so clear even in the hard times. And we’ve had incredibly hard times. However, that sentiment of being called is consistently made clear in many conversations that we have with friends and family.

Ben’s friend Joel was here recently and asking us the usual questions of how we liked life here and how we were doing, etc.

“I feel like we escaped.” Ben said sincerely. “I never want to go back. There has never been a moment where I’ve thought we’ve made a mistake in coming here.”

***********

At the end of July last year I was tired and burnt out. I was depressed my parents had moved to Colorado and had that panicked feeling of being left behind and out. I wasn’t eating because the grief was so real. I remember trying to eat and dry heaving over and over. I reached a weight that I hadn’t seen since I was a growing girl and wondered if I had a problem.

The pain of being in a place of waiting is one of the hardest ones. When you wonder if God really does have a plan for you. When your dreams seem like wasted things, spoiled by years upon years of staleness.

Hope is a beauty of a thing. Last July I was dying on the inside because hope had left me. In it’s place was raw desperation for something different, something that would make me feel alive again because I knew I was called for something more. 

It’s a hard life up here, don’t get me wrong. Everyone works hard and sacrifices for the privilege of being here. Even as I am typing this, with my door propped wide open to look at the mountains the smell of a fresh joint wafted in and made me smile. So Colorado. I can’t help but love it for who it is.

There is a rough comradery and community that flourishes when you meet the right people. People seem more willing to be seen and known here. Desperate maybe, to meet other people committed to making the sacrifice to be here with them. Too many transients come through here, with big dreams without the will to push through the hard times are crushed by harsh reality and creep back home. To be known and cared for is beyond any price up here and people cling to real authenticity.

There is also a dark underbelly of Summit County that grieves my soul. There is an almost commonplace heavy drug use and mental illness like I’ve never seen or heard of before.

There is tarnish on the beautiful glimmer and facade where news stories gloss over another teen disappearing in the mountains or a paddle boarding “accident”. You hear the whispered truth, if you live here long enough. But the media keeps it happy for the tourists pouring in their millions for a perfect vacation experience.

“It’s f—-ing Disney Land,” a young kid grins maniacally, throwing his arms around for dramatic affect, always with a cheap brand of tar-filled cigarette in his hand.  “Vacation every day, it makes you crazy.”

…and he would know. He has experienced great loss in his short life. Everyone I have known here has lost someone they knew to suicide, some, several people.  I’ve heard that this area of the country has the highest suicide rate in the country but it’s swept under the carpet. Stories of ongoing research and studies being done up here surface occasionally on “how high altitude affects the human body”. Locals grin knowingly.

All in all, this place, this juxtaposition of two polar realities is my home and I love it.  I can’t understand it all, I don’t have to but we were clearly meant to be here.

There was a point to the waiting. A growing up had to happen, a place in my heart created to know that I know that I know that even in the heaviness of a sometimes difficult existence that I am home. I’ve not doubted it once.

Dream chasing is not for the faint of heart. Be ready to face obstacles, difficulties, anxiety and brokenness like never before… but can I just encourage you friends on the precipice of a major leap?

Actual life living, in the adrenaline-filled stream of life is better than the crushing depression of dying hope.

I know this is true. Take that next step.