Walk Away

She sat there with tears falling down her cheeks, trying to hide them from us.
She hid behind all the right excuses, all the right phrases, and had an answer for everything.
This fragile, brokenhearted girl wanted to be strong.
She wanted to be accepted, loved, and more than anything she wanted to let her guard down.

She found herself the punchline of every joke, the one who took the blame, and the one who finished last. Her best efforts were never good enough for the others, and though she gave them everything she had, they continued to use her and then throw her away when something better came along. She was abandoned time and time again, forced to walk alone through her pain, but desperate to connect to her friends...the same friends who took what they needed and walked away.

She was broken. She was hurting. She was asking me to give her permission to live like this.

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I've learned a lot about relationships in the years since leaving high school. Before I got to college, I thought I had the friendship thing figured out. I knew I had no clue how to do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but being friends? Um, duh, I went to pre-school! Twice! (I totally got kicked out the first time. I hid in the bathroom every day and my sister had to come get me out. They made me leave and wait a year. Coincidentally, in 7th grade, I also had a problem with hiding in the bathroom....but that's a different story!)

My experiences with friendships and relationships have taught me that sometimes you have to walk away. You have to choose to guard your own heart and move on with your life without the other person. And the decision to walk away is painful. The kind of pain that wakes you up at night, has you crying under your covers (or in the shower, in your car, under your desk, in the library, in chapel, in the cafeteria, in class....okay, you get the picture. I'm a major weeper.) and stops you from being happy. It cuts into your soul and your entire being is disrupted.

I have gone through this a few times in my life. Four times in particular. Four times that I've had to deliberately and consciously remove someone from my life. I've had friendships fade and relationships drift apart, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about times where these four people were people I considered best friends. In fact, even as I think about them, collectively and individually, remnants of the pain felt is washing over me. Waves of sadness, moments of anger, bitterness tainting the memories of joy, and an overwhelming feeling of regret that the situations didn't end up differently. Maybe the regret is only because one of those friendships I am walking away from is a bit more current than the others, but I fought so hard for those four relationships and they are gone.

I used to pray for those relationships, those fractured friendships.
Psalm 20:4 May He give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.
Psalm 37:4 Take delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.
Psalm 145:19 He fulfills the desires of those who fear Him; He hears their cry and saves them.
Obviously, I had a thing for self-righteous googling of the Psalms, taking things out of context, and using Scripture to my own advantage. Note to all readers: AVOID AVOID AVOID!

As my relationships crumbled and failed, I felt God abandoning me too. I felt alone, rejected, and unworthy. How foolish I was, how blind, how wrong!

The path I had planned for my life would have placed me with any one of those four people next to me as my best friend or my lover or my true love or my soul mate...whatever my mind cooked up at the moment. But God knew the bigger picture. He knew the life I would have planned for myself would have trapped me, it would have caged my potential, and would have led me away from the people I am with now. Could things have turned out great? Sure, probably...I'm a hoot and a half! But I am convinced that THIS is the place God wants me. I answered the call to walk away. And now I am giving it.

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I look at her and tell her what she does not want to hear.
You have to walk away.
I can't.
If I can do it, so can you.

I see a moment of resolve in her eyes for the first time. She is going to be alright. It is a hard road to take, but she will not walk it alone ever again. 

Life with Duffy

Friends, loved ones, loyal readers,

You may have noticed my absence from my blog recently. I truly apologize for that and I would like to go on record to blame the new man in my life. Yes, that's right. There is a new man in my life. He has stolen my heart, he has swept me off my feet, and he has filled the hole I had in my life. He is truly my best friend, my love, and my soul mate in many ways. I would like to introduce you to him.

This is Duffy:

Here he is at about 6 weeks old, about 2 weeks before we brought him home. He is a Yorkshire Terrier Poodle, or Yorkie Poo. My sister, Dani, has the same breed and her dog, Tebow, is Duffy's half brother. We like to keep it in the family, yo. (Forget I said yo.)
He was a mega-ginger when we got him, but as his hair grew out it got lighter and lighter, except for the black on him. He is so cute you guys. Sigh.

This is Duffy (Sir Duffigan, as I like to call him...very Game of Thrones) at about 3 months before we buzzed off all his hair. I wish I was kidding when I say that the last good picture I have of him awake is the one above. I am not. It's sleeping or nothing, but I'll get there...

Here he is right after his haircut a few weeks ago. He just turned 5 months old yesterday, and he will stay under 15 pounds.










Let me tell you about life with Duffy, shall I? Because in these pictures, you see a freaking adorable puppy who you want to rip the head off and just smash into the ground because he is so cute. No seriously though, cuteness inspires aggression in people, epto facto--super violent reaction to Sir Duffigan. While we do have lots of cuddle time on the couch, me watching Bones on Netflix while he sleeps on my lap or on the back of my neck, the majority of my life with Duffy is sitcom worthy.

Here's a typical day (When I'm not working):
I awake to the sounds of whining and barking outside my door. Scratching, clawing, sniffing, crying, yelping...at the ripe hour of 5:30am. I get up, open the door and the attack begins. As I shuffle to the bathroom Duffy barks and jumps on me trying to bite my hands, feet, legs, pants...really anything so I will notice him. I wait until he is calm, then pick him up and greet him. His attack turns to my mouth and chin and hair and he licks and bites and flails around to let me know that indeed, yes, I am his very best friend. I love you too Duffy.

After I take him on a walk (where I fight him to be alpha dog, and he fights me to chase every leaf that dares threaten him, or worse...dares to come near ME), I have to hand feed him breakfast. On a spoon. Or he won't eat. Yeah, this is my life now.

Then we play on the floor for a while, usually me throwing the ball and then he will come back and wait for me to chase him around the house. If I don't chase him, he will go find something he know he isn't supposed to have, like mail, a tissue, my shoes, my mom's glasses, the entire toilet paper roll, you know, whatever is lying around and then I will be forced to chase him. I have no idea how to teach a dog to "leave it" or "drop it" so Duffy always wins. Jerk.

Then it's usually nap time, so we watch TV and Duffy sleeps (best time of my life!). He is so cuddly and adorable when he is tired. Those are the moments I try to remember when he is tearing apart my stuff or drawing blood on my hands...cuddle time. TEAM CUDDLE TIME!

Bed time is a real treat because when I'm ready to settle down for the night, he is ready to hump his girlfriend, a stuffed crocodile my best friend picked out for him. I named the croc Crikey and it is hilarious watching him go to town on that poor stuffed crocodile. The commentary my family comes up with is award winning...we need our own YouTube channel! Scandalous!

Since Duffy thinks my bed is bite town central, he doesn't sleep with me anymore, so I get to sleep in peace. Hallelujah. Oh did I mention that he likes to bite my hair and lick up my nose, pounce on my lip ring, lick the water and the lotion off my legs after a shower, bite my PJ pants every time I move, climb in my laundry basket and dig for socks, and hide his bones in my bed so I find them at night?

Boy do I love my puppy!!