Thanksgiving 2009

My thankfulness post may be a long one because I have so much to be thankful for.

First and foremost I am thankful that God sent His Son to die for me and took the punishment for my sin upon himself so that I may have an eternal home in Heaven. Words can’t describe how wonderful that gift is. All pales in comparison.

I am thankful for my children. Only one of them was a planned pregnancy, but God sent the other two to me at special times in my life when I needed them. They are each unique and special and enrich my life. Though they often frustrate me and make me angry, I cannot imagine a life without them in it. I feel as though they are my entire purpose on this earth. I am grateful for their good health as my heart breaks to see parents lose children in death. I appreciate Arrena’s responsibility and willingness to help even when not asked. I appreciate Kimmy’s sense of humor and her intelligence. I appreciate Billy’s bond with me and his observation skills. I am thankful for the privilege of having them lent to my care for a short time and pray that I will not waste the opportunity and that they will grow up to be all God has planned for them.

I am thankful for my family. I love my mom and am so very grateful for her care for me. She has really gone above and beyond this year, allowing me and the kids to live with her for a time, loaning me her only vehicle, lending me money, and generally being there for me. She is (again) making me a wedding dress. She and I may not always see eye to eye but she is always there for me. I remember one night this year in particular when I called her, bawling my eyes out and she talked to me and calmed me down and gave me direction to get through the problem. I am thankful that my mother raised me the way that she did, that she taught me God’s Word, kept me in church, taught me to read, was a stay-at-home mom in my early years, etc. I am thankful for all the rest of my family. I have many loving members of my family that I am proud to say I am related to. I am thankful that God answered prayers this year for my grandpa’s health. I feared he wouldn’t see another Christmas, but he is still with us.

I am thankful for God’s financial provisions. This last year has been a very hard one, in many ways, but especially financially. I hadn’t planned on being a single parent. I had actually wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and my husband had agreed. So I didn’t go to school and learn a high-paying skill. I eventually went to work part-time to try to pay down some debt, which never seemed to go away. When I found myself parenting alone, the part-time pay was fine as long as we lived simply and had child support money coming in. But when the kids’ dad lost his job, he stopped paying. I tried to go full-time, but any extra I made went to paying for childcare for me to go to work, so it made no sense and helped us not at all. I also had to pay for health insurance. And then work started cutting my hours even further. Sometimes I was only bringing in about $650 a month. My rent alone was $575. How do you support 3 kids on that? My ex and I had also been supporting his missionary foster parents with $50 a month and I knew I had to keep that going because they depended on their support to live. God also burdened me to pledge $10 a month to our faith promise missions at church, in addition to my 10% tithe. $10 doesn’t sound like a lot, but it was to us. I had no idea how I could afford all of this. But I read Luke 6:38-- “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” and Malachi 3:10-- “ ‘Bring all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house, and try me now in this,’ says the LORD of hosts, ‘If I will not open for you the windows of heaven and pour out for you such blessing that there will not be room enough to receive it.’ ” And God’s Word is true.

Early on in this divorce/separation, I was staying at my mom’s and I had nothing to my name. I had no car, no money, and it was not payday week for me. I ran out of foundation make-up and conditioner. No big deal in the grand scheme of things and not something I would complain about. Who cares about makeup when your life is in a shambles and I’d just have to live with brushing tangles out of my hair the hard way. But then there was a knock on the door. I was tempted to not answer it, as it wasn’t my house, but I did and found a group of women in the yard and on the porch. They handed me a heavy gift bag and invited me to a “Friend Day” at their church (which, in a twist of fate, was the old building of my old church, where I “grew up”) where they give away clothing and canned food and free medical screenings. I thanked them and went inside. When I opened the bag, I found it was full of cosmetics, including foundation (and in my skin shade!), and some hair care products--no shampoo, but a bottle of conditioner! Tears sprang to my eyes and I knew that if God would take care of little details like conditioner and makeup, He would handle my needs as well. My little insignificant details were important to God. Wow! And when times were tight, God always provided. It doesn’t make sense, the numbers don’t add up, but at the end of the month, I always had enough. I paid my bills and gave to the church and the missionaries. It was always there. Sometimes it was interesting how God provided. I had to swallow my pride many times. I had to go on food stamps and go to a clothes closet and a few food pantries, which I loathed doing and was so ashamed of, but I came to see it as God’s provision. Twice, the kids’ dad came up with some money when I needed it. And when Scott came along, he sent me a check for $500 to help me out. I resisted because I didn’t want to take charity or owe him anything. But I prayed and asked God to provide another way, but if not, I would know that Scott’s money was meant to be God’s provision. I had seen too much for too many months to doubt that God would provide. It became a matter of “how” not “if.” God provided no other money that month, so I swallowed my pride yet again and cashed Scott’s check.

And now, I am pleased to find that God has placed me in a sound financial situation. Scott makes good money, enough to where we feel like I will probably not have to work and will be able to be a stay-at-home mom like I always wanted. I am thankful that he had some inheritance money built up so that he has been able to accommodate us and our needs. He has been paying for my lawyer and bought many things to make us more comfortable in this house and make it home for me and the kids. And he was able to pay for a new addition on his home to give us more room. Construction started a couple of weeks ago. While money doesn’t buy love, the practical side of me had that aspect on my list for a potential husband: financially responsible and secure. I am ever thankful for how God has provided for us this year and I trust that He will in the coming years.

I am thankful for encouragement from God, which has come in many forms. Song lyrics are an obvious choice and I won’t go into all of the ones that have spoken to me as you can read them here in this blog. Scripture verses that I find at timely junctures in my life are another encouragement. Today I was reading Psalm 37 and found it very soothing for what is occurring in my life at this moment. I may blog that one, it’s so good. It was mentioned in my Sunday school class last week, which causes me to believe it was not accidental, but a seed planted for me to harvest in my mind later as the week’s troubles unfolded. Once when I went to one of the food pantries, I got home and was unpacking the food items. At the bottom of the large sack was a random bottle of conditioner! I felt like it was God's little love note to me, His reminder of how He provides for me! sort of a, "Don't forget, Robin, I will even provide you with conditioner!" There have even been times when I feel like God is revealing a truth to my heart, such as Jesus dying for me PERSONALLY, not just as part of the collective world, or about my feeling condemned and like a failure because of my sin, or about there being something greater in life than my personal struggles, or feeling that God is with me in the midst of fiery trials and that He is in control of it all and has my best interest in mind. Knowing that He is ultimately in charge, not any judges in a courtroom or whoever, and that He will ultimately work things out for MY good! There have been some instances where I felt encouraged by being able to get back in touch with friends I hadn’t talked to in a long time. One day, a woman walked through the YMCA locker room singing a hymn that fit the need in my life at that particular moment. I saw a note on a piece of mail at work that had the words to a hymn and the phrase "If you can't see past earth's shadow, look to Jesus and his light!" There are times when a specific word or phrase or verse comes into my heart at the precise right time. There have been times when I have felt like God has literally caused me to stop what I am doing and come to Him in prayer, pouring my heart out. Once I truly felt pushed to the ground and held there. I needed to stop and rest and receive peace and comfort and I did. In the courtroom, I felt like Jesus was there, holding my hand, and in my mind I imagined reaching my arms up to my Father to hold me like a child and was calmed by the thought. The list could go on extensively.

I am also thankful for my future mother-in-law, whom I not only like, but truly love to death. She is a sweet, wonderful lady. It’s very nice to have a mother-in-law that you like because I have had the other kind and it ain’t pretty! I have gotten along well with Sue since we met over 16 years ago and even continued to write her after Scott and I broke up back then. Whenever she wrote back, she was sensitive to my feelings and never mentioned Scott to me, which I was always amazed at. She prays for us and encourages me often. She has welcomed me and the kids into the family with open arms and as though we were not tainted by divorce and remarriage and step-parenting, etc. She treats us as her own. I love her as a mother-in-law, but also as a friend. And she babysits too! ;)

Finally (I think), I am thankful for Scott. I am thankful that he never stopped loving me in 16 years. That’s so amazing to me that I can’t comprehend it. I am thankful for how he treats me. It is radically different than what I have experienced and it feels nice to be put on a pedestal. He accepts me with all my faults and some of what I thought would be deal-breakers, he actually finds endearing! What’s wrong with him? Ha, ha. I am thankful that even though I tried to scare him off, he wouldn’t run. I am continually amazed at how eager he was to take on all my baggage, because, let’s face it, there is a LOT of it. I am thankful that he has not only accepted my kids but actually loves them and treats them very well. I am thankful that he is willing to help me parent and does such a great job with Billy--better than I do even. I am thankful that he is generous and was willing to give up his money to buy trampolines and swingsets and tickets to Hannah Montana concerts and pay for preschool and a lawyer and to add on to his house, among many, many other things. I am thankful that he wants to go Christmas shopping for the kids with me, even if that caused a minor misunderstanding. ;) I am thankful that he is so even-tempered and doesn’t get mad often and when he does, his reaction is to become quiet. I am thankful that he is willing to help me with chores around the house. I am thankful that he agrees with me not working. I am thankful that he brings me flowers. I am thankful that he listens to me and remembers what I say. I am thankful that he searched for and found a replacement for something that had been very important to me. I am thankful that he went to Jared's (ha, ha)! I am thankful that we have a lot in common. I am thankful that he is an encouragement to me. I am thankful that he gave up his brand new SUV for me to drive while he drives his old pickup truck to work. It’s a minor thing, but I am glad that he likes to decorate for Christmas. There are so many things that I appreciate about him that I would be here the rest of the day if I were to list them out. I’m not delusional, it’s not all a bed of roses, and there are things about him that drive me nuts, but I appreciate him more than I can say. More than anything I appreciate how he was there to catch us when we fell. God worked it out so that he was there at the right time to be able to take us in and care for us when we had nowhere else to go. I can never thank him enough for willingly walking into our nightmare and accepting all that came with it. I love you, honey.

I’m sure if I sat here the rest of the day, I could think of many more things to be thankful for. But I will leave it at that.

And while I am not thankful FOR the situation that I am in now, I am thankful while I am IN this situation (I Thessalonians 5:18-- “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”). Romans 8 says that God will work it all out for my good and to conform me to the image of Jesus Christ. The ultimate goal is to be more like Christ. Praise Him from whom all blessings flow!

My Story, 2009 Chapter (part 1)

In honor of thanksgiving, I wanted to blog about all that the Lord has blessed me with this year, but felt I should write some background first. Most of what I write will be no surprise to those that follow my blog, but in case a stranger should wander in (and for posterity’s sake), I won’t make them guess what I am referring to.

The word for this year was divorce. This is the first time that I am publicly acknowledging my personal issues, other than a relationship status change on Facebook. As I indicated in quoting Beyoncé below, I am not here to slam my ex on the internet, but I want to share what has happened as a way to help someone else who may be going through the same thing. I would hate to have gone through all this for nothing. I am sure that my ex has a different story, colored by his personality and experience and I am sure that mine is colored too, but I am honest and we’ll leave it at that.

I have been married for 14 years. I got married when I was 18 years old. Not a smart thing to do, but hindsight is 20/20. I’ll blog my soapbox on that at a later date. My husband made me believe that I would have the life I desired, a life in full-time Christian ministry. My wake-up call was when I arrived at our new home, a military housing apartment in Germany, 3 months after the wedding and found pictures of him at the German bars with beers in his hand. My heart sunk. I don’t drink and I didn’t want to be married to someone who did. And I knew that as a teen, my husband had had an alcohol problem and I feared that.

We had our differences in the beginning because it was obvious that we were complete opposites. But I thought the alcohol was not a problem because he was always with me and was never drinking. We moved to Tennessee to go to Bible college, but he never attended. With me working full-time and going to school full-time, we didn’t have much time together and he was often with friends or his aunt, uncle, and cousins. The one real problem was when we would go back to Wichita, Kansas to visit our families. He would morph into this monster. He would act like his old self, the guy that was into selling drugs, stealing car stereos, hanging with the wrong crowd, rude, and drinking. He treated me like garbage every time we were in town, but as soon as he would get back home, he would turn back into the good husband. It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I knew we could never survive living in our hometown again, if his behavior was any indication.

After I got pregnant with our first child, he announced that he was quitting his job and moving back to Wichita and I could come if I wanted to. I was floored that he was actually going to leave me behind, which I was going to do because there was no way I was going to live with Mr. Hyde full-time. We eventually compromised and decided to move to Tulsa, OK—closer to home, but not actually in Wichita. However, when we got there, we found out that the house that we had rented was condemned and the landlord was in jail for child molestation. We had no choice but to continue on to Wichita and stay with family. I felt like my spirit died then. Maybe I doomed things with my negativity but I knew it was the beginning of the end.

Immediately after, I went out to Arizona to visit my best friend (she was so wonderful in paying for my trip and taking me shopping!) and while I was there, I called my husband to check in and he thought I was someone else…his ex-girlfriend, in fact. Apparently she had just stopped by and intended to call him later.

Everything went downhill from there. He sometimes stayed out all night, drinking with the guys. I would be up crying, even out searching for him. He got arrested a couple of times for bar fights. Things seemed to calm down a bit after our first daughter was born. Not right away, but eventually he seemed to settle down and prefer to be at home with us.

Then 9/11 happened. His National Guard unit was activated and he was sent back to Germany to guard the post there. I was pregnant with our second child at the time and had a really bad feeling about this deployment. Call it women’s intuition or whatever, but it turned out to be true. He informed me in a letter, a couple of weeks after our daughter’s birth, that he had met a German girl and was having an affair and was leaving me. I was devastated. I think physical abuse or even killing me would have been kinder. I was severely depressed and contemplated suicide. For some reason though, even though I had sworn to myself I would never let a man do this to me, I decided to fight for my marriage.

He agreed to come back and work things out, but left again after only 3 days and flew the girlfriend to town. He came back to me again, begging forgiveness. I allowed him to come home, but it was never easy. I believed he had a mental illness. Manic-depressive disorder and schizophrenia runs heavily in his family and I wondered if that was the problem. I had him in to see doctors and psychiatrists. They put him on different anti-depressants and anti-psychotics and as long as he took them, he seemed to do better, but as soon as he would stop, he’d “go off the deep end.” Over the next 6 years, he left me 9 more times. Sometimes there was no indication that anything was wrong, not even an argument. He would just come home and pack his stuff and leave without a word. He’d always come back, beg for forgiveness, promise to never do it again, and I’d forgive and let him come home. I think I died every time, though.

Those 6 years were full of things you might see on a bad episode of the Jerry Springer show. I suspect he may have been involved with prostitution for a time, I contracted HPV (an STD) and had to have pre-cancer cells removed, there was another affair that resulted in a child that may or may not have been his—she refused DNA testing, he punched me in the face, he regularly phoned and visited other women, he stayed out, he drank, etc. I also had my third child in the middle of all of this. I had a ton of reasons why I stayed—some make sense, some do not. But that list is long.

Last September (2008), he threw me out of the house and said he was keeping the children. Of course since he was never around, he didn’t know how to take care of the children. The children seem to agitate him, he can only take them in small doses and for some reason, never has them alone. If he has them, he takes them to someone’s house. Anyway, it didn’t take 12 hours before they were back with me 95% of the time. We stayed at my mom’s for a month, but he was begging me to come home and I was struggling with some severe depression and was quite suicidal. So I went back. I was there for 2 weeks and he left. Then he came back again, then left again. I had gotten on some great anti-depressants that allowed me to think clearly for the first time in a long time. I had finally had enough. For the benefit of 14 years and 3 kids, I gave him one final chance. I told him in December that he had until March to get himself together or it was over. In January he admitted that he was living with a new girlfriend. I moved to my own house and filed for divorce.

I had been in turmoil and fought it for so many years, but overnight, God gave me complete peace about letting my marriage go. He was still back and forth, begging me to let him come home or being belligerent and hateful, but I felt calm. I had feared being alone, but I found that I loved it. He continued to bombard me with texts and phone calls, and often showed up at my house in the middle of the night. I was starting to get scared. He was threatening suicide and I feared a man on the edge would try to take someone with him. I feared becoming a statistic or one of those stories you hear on court TV where the man snaps and kills his wife and kids and himself. One night when he showed up, I felt a definite jolt of fear and thought, “this man could really kill me.” I found out later that he had come to my house to hide because he had just tried to strangle his girlfriend and the cops were looking for him.

That is some of the background and it is long enough. I think I will split this into two posts. The rest of the story to follow….

My Story, 2009 Chapter (part 2)

When I was 16, the first boy I ever really dated was Scott Davidson. The relationship was far from perfect, but we got serious fast and started talking about getting married. But he broke my heart when he broke up with me to date someone else (he said later that he was scared at how serious it had gotten and how young we were). He tried to date me again after that, but I was too hurt and too angry. He was pretty relentless for a while and drove me batty! The last time I saw him was 9 years ago when my oldest was a newborn. I had nothing but negative feelings for him. I held onto that grudge and spit venom every time I told people the story of him, which was often. I would occasionally try to look him up on classmate-type websites or the yellow pages to try to keep tabs on where he was. Maybe I protested too much…

Earlier this year, after my husband and I had split for good, I got a friend request from Scott on Facebook. I debated and overanalyzed and overthought that one to death. Surely he had seen my “complicated” relationship status and would hound me to try to get me back. He would be an internet stalker and that’s just what I needed—I already had a husband stalker. But I was curious and I wasn’t sure why. And we had so many friends in common, he would have some indirect access to me anyways. One friend said to go ahead and approve it and if he bothered me, delete him. So I winced as I hit the “approve” button, as though the stalking onslaught would be immediate in coming. But there was nothing. No “hi, how ya doin” post on my wall, no personal messages, no photo comments, nothing. I was almost disappointed. Maybe my husband’s rejection wouldn’t get to me quite so bad if there was a man out there who had been pining for me for 16 years! But, alas, no. He virtually ignored me. I went on with my life.

After a few months, Scott eventually made some innocuous comments on a few of my posts. But nothing more. In July, I was surprised when he suddenly struck up a chat with me and even more surprised when I enjoyed talking with him. He initially offered to pay for me and the kids to go to Worlds of Fun (he lives in Kansas City) because he saw from my posts that we seemed to be having a hard time. At that point, I was so broke, I didn’t know how I would pay bills. I was getting no child support and my part time job was cutting back even more hours. I was on food stamps (which I hated) and had also had to go to some food pantries and clothes closets (which hurt my pride even more). But apparently I still had enough pride to not want to take someone else’s charity (plus with our history, I didn’t want to owe him something), so I refused. He tried to talk me into it about 10 different ways, but finally laid off and just chatted. I was surprised when he listened and asked questions and pretty much let me talk and seemed to enjoy it. I like to talk and it’s rare to find someone to actually enjoy listening to me. After a lengthy chat, he said he’d like to talk again sometime. That night I had a dream that I married Scott and he loved me so much and treated me so well. When I woke up I thought that it would probably be true, but I was also sad. Sad that someone showing a little bit of kindness to me could make me feel so wistful.

Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about Scott after that. I kept trying to put him out of my mind and remind myself of how much I hated him all these years, but it didn’t help. I would sit on Facebook and wait to see if he would get online and want to chat and get disappointed if a) I didn’t see him online or b) he was online but didn’t strike up a chat. He sent me a few messages, but by Saturday, I was a wreck. I resembled some angst-ridden teenager! I sat at work, crying, because I wanted to talk to him so much. It was ridiculous! I was so disgusted with myself for how I was behaving. I went home and immediately logged onto Facebook and checked every 5 minutes to see if he was online. I sent him a message when I saw him, but he said he was tired and was going to bed early and I was deflated. I had deluded myself into thinking he would be just as excited to talk to me, but apparently sleep was more attractive to him. I cried some more, but tried to pull myself together and just played some games to calm myself. I was surprised when I got a chat window from him. It was so funny how I immediately relaxed and calmed, like a big sigh of relief. That was the first night of many nights where we stayed up till the middle of the night either chatting or on the phone.

He admitted that he had never stopped thinking about me and felt he had really missed his chance. He admitted he still had feelings for me, but that he was content having his best friend back if that’s all there was. He said he would be open to dating later on, if I was. I was surprised to find that I was. The lengthy hours of talking daily made our relationship go serious very quickly. We agreed that we wouldn’t date until my divorce was final, but he already knew that he wanted to marry me. And he would have married me immediately. I was a little more cautious and had my own “plan”. We jokingly named them “stages.” Stage 1 was us dating, stage 2 was introducing him to the children, stage 3 was engaged, and stage 4 was marriage. I wanted stage 1 to last a long time.

Speaking of plan, I had previously made a list of all the qualities that I wanted in a future husband. After I was done, I proclaimed that the guy couldn’t possibly exist (or if he did he was 85 or 12 or lived in China) and told God it was impossible. Oops! Wrong choice of words to use with God. That’s like issuing a challenge. Luke 1:37—“For with God nothing will be impossible.” I was surprised to find that Scott met every one of my criteria.

I signed the final divorce papers and was told they would be before a judge to be signed right away. So Scott and I planned our first date. I was anxious because I had not been out with other adults in a long time. My 2 closest friends in town worked the night shift, but I switched to days to make child care easier, so our schedules didn’t mesh well. I was craving adult conversation and some time away from the kiddoes. Their dad was going to take them camping Saturday night and his mom offered to take them Friday night so I could have a whole weekend to myself. I didn’t tell anyone what I was planning, which was to meet Scott in Emporia (sort of halfway) and then go up to Kansas City with him to spend the following day. I was either going to sleep on his couch or he was going to rent me a hotel room, but I didn’t think people would understand, and it would look scandalous, so I didn’t tell but one friend. I packed a bag and hid it in the back of my SUV, then I packed the kids up for the weekend. I picked them up at school and dropped them off at their grandma’s, then I headed out of town. I am usually very conscientious of people being able to get a hold of me when the kids are not with me, in case of emergency, but I didn’t think about my Cricket phone not working out of town. I had been on the phone with Scott as we drove towards each other. I missed a call on the other line from my mom and then I got a text from her, saying to call her. That was odd because she would normally just tell me what it was she wanted, so I was a little concerned. But just about then, I lost signal, I think a little ways past El Dorado. I had only been on the road about 30-45 minutes. I thought I would have signal once I hit Emporia and could call her back, but I didn’t.

Scott and I met at Applebee’s and had dinner. I tried to enjoy myself but I had a nagging sense that something was wrong. My grandpa had been sick in the hospital so I wondered if something might be wrong with him. Scott gave me a beautiful sapphire ring and then we headed to Kansas City, leaving my SUV in the WalMart parking lot in Emporia.

On the outskirts of Kansas City, I finally got signal and called my mom. She said that my ex-husband had been calling me (I now had 8 voicemails) and that he called her, saying that I took off and left the kids, had packed a bag and left town with a boyfriend (how did he know this?) and that he was going to take the kids and I would never see them again. My phone died then. I also found out later that he had been calling one of my friends, questioning her as to my whereabouts. We turned around and went back to Wichita, picking up my car first in Emporia. Scott offered to go to my house with me, but I said I would be fine, just needed to get the phone charged so I could call my ex and get to the bottom of this and talk him out of his tree. Scott went to his mom’s in case I needed him and instructed me to call him as soon as I got in the house.

When I got home, there were lights on in the house and I could see the TV was on. I knew I had turned it all off when I left. I had told the kids’ grandma where my key was hidden in case she needed to take the kids by the house for anything. I assumed maybe she was there now. I knocked on the door and was surprised when my ex peeked through the blinds. The divorce papers included a temporary restraining order that says he is not supposed to come around my house without my permission. His middle-of-the-night visits had prompted me to remind him of this and tell him to never do it again or I would call the police. Now, here he was IN my house.

He let me in and I saw that the kids were asleep on the couches, then he started grilling me about where I had been and who I had been with and why hadn’t I answered my phone. I told him the phone had died and that the rest was none of his business. He started puffing up and getting in my face and said, “I’ve never hit you before (which is a lie), don’t make me start now.” I told him to get out, but as I had a dead cell phone, how could I call the police? He refused, and kept yelling, calling me a whore, and woke the children. I again asked him to leave and to calm down in front of the children, but he refused, so I went for the door because I had a sheriff’s deputy that lived down the street. But he grabbed me and started shoving me against the kitchen counters and the walls. The kids came up and tried to get him to stop, but he kept shooing them back to the living room. I thought about the knives that were in the cabinet right near me and the pepper spray that was so far away in my bedroom and about striking out, but I had the distinct feeling that it would be worse if I fought back. He was shaking all over and I felt like he had some thin layer of control, but if I did anything it would snap and I would be no match for him, whatever my weapon. I tried to turn on my phone in a desperate attempt and was surprised when it actually powered on! But he kept trying to either knock it out of my hands or grab it to see who I had been talking to. I managed to keep a hold of it, but couldn’t get anything dialed. I had managed to get near the back door, but he blocked it so I couldn’t get through. He demanded that I tell him who I had been with. When I said no, he grabbed me by the throat and held me against the wall. I remember thinking, “oh my God, he is really going to kill me.” He said, “tell me his name and it will stop. If you don’t tell me, I won’t stop.” I managed to choke out the word “no” and then I felt everything going black and fuzzy. Next thing I knew, I hit the floor and I was aware that the kids were behind him, so I assume that they had stopped him. It took me a moment to get up because I couldn’t move at first. He had moved enough away that I grabbed the closest 2 children and flung open the door and shoved them out. I told them to run to the neighbor’s and call the police. But they just stood there, rooted to the ground. He had turned around and went back to get his boots, so I grabbed the last of the kids and we ran out the door, me pushing all 3 in front of me. I started dialing 911, amazed that my phone was on at all. I don’t know if he knocked me down or if I tripped, but I know I ended up in the grass. He knocked me over the head with his boots and then shoved them on and started running down the street. My across-the-street neighbor had come out and came over to us. I had enough battery to tell the 911 operator what happened, where I was, and which direction he was heading before it died.

The police came quickly and it took longer to explain everything than it took for it to actually happen. They took pictures of my neck and told me that they had arrested him and that he would be out in 4-8 hours depending on if he was able to post bail or not. I finally was able to call Scott who was beside himself by that time since it was more than 2 hours after we had parted. Then I called my mom and she came and stayed with me, per Scott’s orders. He is a paramedic and he was worried about me being alone if I had lost consciousness. My mom and I were scared to death. We couldn’t sleep and I was a nervous wreck, thinking about my ex coming back to kill me or snatching the kids. Every noise made me jump. I knew I couldn’t stay there. Scott had offered to let us come and stay with him for a few days and I decided to take him up on the offer.

I hated having to traumatize the children further by introducing them to mom’s new boyfriend, but I needed for us to feel safe. My ex knew everywhere else I might go except Scott’s. I felt it was the only safe place. So we went with the idea that it would only be for a few days.

But things started to unravel. I kept trying to call my lawyers to figure out what to do but they would never return my calls. Hooray for legal aid! I knew I couldn’t trust the kids’ grandma to babysit anymore because she had obviously told him where the key was hidden. Also there was a dispute over how this got started. HE said that SHE called him, freaking out, saying that I had dumped off the children, etc. SHE said that HE showed up, demanding his children. But I couldn’t trust her and she was my primary Saturday babysitter while I was at work. So now what should I do? Then I got a call that the girls’ school transfer hadn’t been approved so our whole reason for moving into that neighborhood was gone, they would have to go to a different school. Then I found out that work was doing a schedule overhaul and not one of the new schedules would fit into our school/childcare schedule. And the fear didn’t go away. I made the decision to stay in Kansas City with Scott. We would get married soon because I was not okay with being a live-in girlfriend.

Except then I found out that the judge had never signed my divorce papers and I was still legally married! My lawyers started trying to get me sole custody and supervised visitation and I was going back to Wichita to get a Protection From Abuse order and to pack my things. The “ex” kept calling but I ignored the calls and eventually they stopped. Long story short, I agreed to move the PFA over into the divorce papers, he got a lawyer which stopped all the divorce papers cold and got him diversion on the domestic battery case. I was informed that sole custody is pretty much a joke and I would never get supervised visitation so we agreed to a 4 hour visit with the kids every other Sunday, but for 4 times, he didn’t show up. I was happy, thinking he would lose his parenting rights, but the next thing we knew, he hauled us into court, trying to take the kids away from me, saying I had kept them from him for 3 months. I hired a new, better lawyer and of course, he didn’t get the kids.

I have signed 3 sets of final divorce papers, but it seems like it all may finally be over this Monday! If that is the case, Scott and I will be married December 15. Our relationship has been pretty abnormal and all of the stress hasn’t lent itself to romantic interludes. We trade off sleeping on the bed or the couch, to try to maintain some sense of propriety. The kids really love him and he has proved himself to be good dad material. I will be glad when this is all over and we can relax and start a new life.

The kids had to go for their first weekend with their dad 2 weeks ago. I was nervous and cried a lot, but it all worked out okay. They go with him again tomorrow and I pray it will be easier for me this time.

So that is my 2009 in a nutshell. My nutshell is REALLY long so I will save my thankful post for tomorrow!

Father let the world just fade away
Let me feel your presence in this place
Lord I've never been so weary
How i need to know you're near me
Father let the world just fade away
'Til I'm on my knees
'Til my heart can sing

HE IS
HE WAS
HE ALWAYS WILL BE
HE LIVES
HE LOVES
HE'S ALWAYS WITH ME
EVEN WHEN IT FEELS LIKE THERE IS NO ONE HOLDING ME
BE STILL MY SOUL,
HE IS