So last night I was falling asleep, and I experienced this feeling like I was falling or slipping, and I saw Jesus standing off to the side, holding his hands out to me. But, faster than thought, I had an instinctive reaction and sort of held on, so to speak, and woke myself up. Like there was something here that I was holding onto and didn't want to let go. There was no actual decision, it just happened instantaneously, like when you reach out to stop yourself from physically falling. I've been thinking about it all day, and wondering if I was on the point of going to be with him, and something in me wanted to live, something instinctual and unconscious. And I'm wondering, Damn, is this another opportunity missed? Was I about to go the same way as Adina, but drew back? I certainly wouldn't have chosen that if I'd been given the conscious choice and time to think about it. Maybe I'll get another shot at it.

"Where is my hope? Who can see any hope for me?"

-- Job 17:15

I decided abruptly that I needed to get out of the house. Seriously needed to--it was getting very very dark and a little crazy. So I decided, now that I have a contract on the house, it's time to start looking for somewhere else to live, so I'll go spend a few days in Charlottesville, and take it easy, get some air and light (metaphorically speaking), and make it a sort of a getaway. 

And I was right--it is that house, to a significant degree. As soon as I got out of it and down the road a ways, I started feeling better. And now, here in my hotel in Charlottesville, I feel much better, and very different about everything. Maybe it's just the oppressive loneliness I've been in there since I moved in. Maybe I was just going stir-crazy. Maybe it's just the change of scenery. Maybe it's the ghost of girlfriend past that haunts me there. But whatever it is, it is massively different at home than it is when I get out. To the point that I'm thinking maybe I need to have the place blessed or burn some sage or something before I move out, so I don't leave the new family with all that darkness.

The house sold. First day it was on the market--first people who came to view it. Offered me above asking price.

I probably could have dithered a bit and held out for an even higher offer, but I think this is God's choice; these people deserve this place. A disabled vet with his wife and two kids, one of whom has spent years in hospitals all around the country on a feeding tube, but is now healthy. They want to homestead it--grow their own food, live a simple life close to nature, which is exactly what this place is perfect for. It's what I wanted to do with it, but discovered that I don't have the emotional or physical health to do so at this point in my life. And as I said before, what's the point, when you're completely alone, seemingly always will be, and can see no hope of ever not being? 

Anyway, I think it is His hand at work in both my life and theirs. Maybe he brought me here to go through this season of my life--hopefully to hit true bottom--seriously, God, can this please be as bad as it gets?, and to have this place ready for this family who really needs it when they were ready to receive it. So money is just money, but the opportunity to be an instrument of His blessing to someone who really needs it, well that's priceless and eternal. 

Also, it's no small blessing to make the profit I am making, nor to sell the property on the very first day it's listed, to the first viewers. I take that as confirmation that I'm gong the right direction. I'm going to clear right around $50k after commission and closing costs; so Thank you, Lord, for that.

I had been looking forward to getting back to Virginia. Right now I'm feeling so down, disappointed, and brokenhearted, that it's put a wet blanket on it. But I'm hoping that that will lift to some degree. I've seen that what I have to do now is reset and start over at zero. My mental and physical health and fitness have deteriorated so much since Adina's passing, that I need to make restoring them my primary, and really almost only, focus right now. That, and the basics of getting by in life--paying the bills, living day to day, is about all I can handle right now. This place with all its maintenance and requirements turned out to be more of a burden than I was able to deal with, psychologically as well as physically. Back in Charlottesville, my two main goals are to get back to the gym, and to seeing my therapist. As I go along and things improve, I'll slowly start adding other activities. 

About church, I don't know at the moment. Obviously can't go back to the old Anglican church (though if I confess the truth, that is still what my heart of hearts would wish for the most). But there's still that cloud of gossip, judgement, and suspicion that hovers over my head there, the one that followed me to Waynesboro, as I predicted it would, and I do not have the emotional energy at this point in my life to deal with that. I may go back to the Catholic church where I got confirmed, but I'm not sure. She is there, but I don't think its her, herself, who is doing the rumor-and-suspicion spreading--it was people on the periphery. I don't know how I would feel at this point about being around her, running into her. It doesn't feel, right now, like it would be such a big deal like it was before, but that may be because I haven't in so long. It may be nothing, or it may end up being an emotional stress I don't need. Probably best to make a reasonable effort to avoid it, but not worry about it beyond that, just let what will be, be.

Maybe I'll do what I talked about earlier, complete the triad, and become Orthodox. There is a Greek Orthodox church in Cville, and I have always wanted to do it. And to be honest, their theology is much closer to mine in many respects than Rome's. I became Catholic, but I didn't have to swear any kind of oath that I firmly held and believed every single teaching of the magisterium. And I don't, mainly those having to do with the magisterium itself--it seems to me that the only thing giving the magisterium the authority it claims is the claim of the magisterium to that authority. Not that it has no authority, just not the degree of absolute and infallible authority it pretends to. That's really the cause of the East-West schism (and the Protestant reformation), and I still believe it was primarily Rome which was at fault in that (and I still don't say the filioque when I recite the creed). 

I think, too, that getting out of this house is going to help me get past what has been the most intense source of pain and loss since I moved in, that is, Carolina. When we first broke up, I was too preoccupied with Adina to really feel it fully, and just sort of said, Okay, whatever, rolled over, and kept staring into blackness. But for some reason, when I moved into this house, that loss began to come down on me. And the whole time I've been here, I've been living with her ghost. I've been seeing her in every room, imagining her beside me in everything I do, having conversations with her in my head about every aspect of my life, feeling her presence here with me...and it's got to stop. I have to leave that spectre behind with this house. I'm forming a resolution now, the opposite of what I did when selling the last house: then it was the other girl who I was leaving behind, and Carolina was new and beautiful in my life. Now, I'm leaving her behind, and intend not to write to her or about her, nor talk or communicate with her anymore once I'm moved out. I'm getting the last box of her things ready to ship to her right now, and I'm getting rid of everything she ever gave me, or that is strongly associated with her in my memory. I am even thinking of deleting all the emails and skype chats, and all the pictures from my computer and phone. I can't keep letting this weight of loss and regret weigh down my heart the way it has been. She's gone, it's over, we're not getting back together, even if we did, it couldn't be the same, and that's that. Nothing to be done except try to get past it and keep living. 

Eventually, I guess I'll have to think about meeting someone else. Probably after I've regained enough fitness to start hiking again--that's where I always seem to meet the most attractive and interested girls. I actually did try signing up for online dating, but who am I kidding? That's just a nightmare, even the religious-based sites. An endless flood of fake messages from spambots and scammers, a steady stream of contact from women who don't interest me at all, and no real prospect of anyone who does. And if I'm honest, I'm really not ready yet anyway.

This is getting to be my least favorite time of year--it seems to be when I always get my heart broken the worst. It has been exactly two years since I felt I had to leave that Catholic church, and decided to do that whole journey. But I am, emotionally, in a worse place right now than I was then. I've certainly made spiritual progress. I'm being blessed materially in a very great way. But personally and emotionally, I am worse off than ever--in more pain than that Divine Mercy Sunday when I prayed before the image of Christ and asked him for something, anything, anyone, in my life to end the loneliness. He sent me Carolina in answer to that prayer, but in the end she ended up breaking my heart even worse than it had been then. So I don't know what to ask for now. Still, something, someone, but I'm almost afraid to, for fear that it will end even worse than this did.

I have lost my last hope in the world for any joy or happiness or anything good in life. Of having any love in my life. Now there is nothing. 

"I can't recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, nor the touch of grass. Instead, I'm naked in the dark. There's nothing. No veil between me and the wheel of fire."

Sudden Loss

Another excerpt from the grief book: 

Dr. H. Norman Wright says, "Sudden death is a shock to the system. It can often plunge a person into a crisis state. It's the suddenness of it that's just overwhelming. You don't have the resources. It stops you from your walk through life." [emphasis added]

Yes, exactly. This is precisely what I've been seeing, and saying, but it helps so much to hear it from someone else, especially from someone trained and experienced: it validates it, validates me, makes me feel less like a failure and a total wreck.

Both Adina's death and my father's were sudden and completely unexpected. It was bad enough with my father, but one more or less expects to lose parents, and to be lost one day in turn, though none of us expected to lose him so soon (he was 43). But not only is losing one's child completely contrary to the natural order, you simply don't expect a 28-year-old woman to just drop dead for no apparent reason. The world just stops, until the subconscious can recover from it, find a way to make sense of it, to weave it into the pattern of its understanding of the universe.

The book continues:

The sovereign Lord will remain by your side and will keep you from being destroyed by your emotions and circumstances. Claim His words in the Bible, and stand on the truth of His promises, regardless of what you feel and see. Cling to God with all you have. He will preserve your life.

This is actually how my life has been for the past eight years or more. 

We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. -- 2 Cor 4:8-9

 

 

"This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. She shall be called 'woman' for she was taken out of man.'" -- Adam

The realtor was here yesterday. I took my time and found a good one this time. She wants to list the house at $269,500, which is $60,000 more than I paid for it, because there is such an extremely high demand for off-the-grid places like this right now. People are coming from all over the world to live in places like West Virginia and Idaho. She says she expects that it will sell very quickly--that we'll probably have viewings the day after it's listed.

This morning, there is a minute break in that black cloud of despair; just a tiny ray of light. It's far from the only thing that's weighing on me, but the prospect of being stuck here isolated, alone, with no life and no hope for one, has definitely been a factor. I just don't want that life anymore. God changed my heart about it, healed me, just before I moved in, and I felt, as soon as the door closed with me inside, that there was something wrong. I may have made a mistake coming here. Or, maybe he did send me here, to go through what I've been through over this winter, and to give me a great financial blessing in the end.

If I sell this place for anywhere near what we're listing it, it will pay off my remaining debt from travel and the funeral, recompense me for the expenses of buying it, moving in, and all the work I've had to put into it and the things I've had to buy for it, and still leave me with a very nice remainder to put in the bank--more than I made out of the sale of the last house, like around $30-40k. So basically, it will be the Lord restoring everything I spent and lost in the process and as a result of my going on that journey in search of him, plus adding something on top. Everything financial, that is. I'm still short a wife, a daughter, and a cat.

I am ready for a very different kind of life than I've had. One more active, more social, more productive...more normal, though I almost shudder to use that word. Really ready to start getting back in shape and healthy again. Grief had a huge physiological effect on me, and I have been feeling it as a literal weight, not only the actual weight gain, but in pains, weakness, fatigue, and general malaise. But I just can't sit still anymore, can't live this stagnant, idle life. It's driving me crazy. I guess that means I've changed inside. I actually am thinking that this is a major part of my recent struggles--that I went back to living a life almost exactly the same as before (or a little worse), but I'm not the same person I was before: it's no longer the right life for me.

I even had an idea, or I think actually an inspiration, of one of the things I can do with my life. I have all this knowledge about God, the Bible, theology, church history, spirituality, and all the rest, that I've been studying and accumulating over all these years, and have never had the opportunity to impart it or use it to help anyone other than my family and closest friends. But there are thousands and millions of people out there who are hungry, starving for such knowledge. I always felt, and well, was, really, blocked before by the intransigence and insularity of churches, clergy, academia, the publishing industry, and all the structures and establishments. I've always been treated with suspicion and skepticism--always been blocked, denied, avoided when I offered my knowledge and abilities. Well, except one time when there was an Anglican bishop who wanted to make me a priest, but my life was such a wreck that I didn't think I was suitable. Anyway, the inspiration is, there is a way to bypass all that now, and to reach the people who want to hear what I have to share directly: youtube. I'm thinking I'm going to start a channel where I can talk about all those things about which I am passionate and knowledgeable. The primary theme of it will be promoting Mere Christianity, that is orthodox, traditional, biblical, historical Christianity in its core essence and its unity. Talking about, for instance, where denominations come from, the differences in the canon of scripture the true character of the early Church, the writings of the Fathers, showing how, at their core, Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants are really one, answering the really hard questions about God...I can think of half a dozen topics for videos without even really thinking about it.

It will probably be a little while before I get started--like after I move. I need to learn the video editing software and the technicalities of recording, get the right camera and microphone, and I want to get my weight down where I can dress in my "church" clothes when I record. Also, don't want to try to start something new like that while I'm selling and moving, and get overwhelmed. But I'm kind of excited about it. I honestly don't really care how "successful" it is, or whether I end up making money (don't even really know how that works on youtube). What I'm excited about is finally a way to feel like I'm doing something, and doing that something for the Kingdom of God. I'll put what I have to give out there, and then God can use it as he sees fit. If it helps one person, then okay. If its more, then okay too.  

Yeah I'm done here. 

I've begun contacting realtors to sell this place. Every day I think more and more that it was a mistake. And I have to get out of here, as you will probably agree if you've read yesterday's post. Sitting here alone, thinking about everything that's gone wrong in my life (which is pretty much everything) is just not healthy for me. And is leading me nowhere. Or at least nowhere good.

I've always struggled with depression, ever since my parents' divorce when I was six. When I was living alone with my father and stepmother, after my brother went to live with our mother, around 11-14, I had serious suicidal thoughts--to the point of making plans. But I turned away from it because of my faith, and though I've had the feeling at other times that I wished for death, I never seriously considered it--because I just didn't consider it as a possibility. Until now.

This is not a cry for help, or a bid for attention and sympathy. I'm not planning on doing it. If anyone reads this, and sends the police to my door to "check on me" or "make sure I'm alright," which means "forcibly locking me up and taking away all my rights and freedom," I will never forgive you, and never speak to you again. In fact, if you send the police to my door, all you'll be doing is providing me a way to do it without actually doing it. I won't go with them. I WILL NOT. Except for one way. You know what I mean. 

And it wouldn't do any good anyway. I've done a lot of reading and listening to accounts of NDEs from people who committed suicide, and they're pretty much universal in agreeing that they were shown or told that, if they stayed there (on the other side) that they would continue to suffer until their allotted time was up, or until some other condition was met. Even people who aren't Catholic and didn't believe in purgatory. It's not a way out.

This is just me talking about what's going on in my heart and mind, because I have nowhere else and no one else to talk about it. They always say "Talk to someone about it." And yeah, they're right: the only way to relieve the pressure is to talk to somebody about it. And I've got nobody to talk to about it but you. So that's what I'm doing. "What about your family?" I can't do that. My mother is mentally ill, and my brother is way too busy--a working lawyer with two kids at home--he barely has time to sleep. And my kids are going through enough on their own, dealing with it, and I'm not going to put this on them too--not going to add to their burdens, "Now we've got to worry about Dad." Luckily, none of them read my blog. And that's my entire circle. I've mostly lost, in recent months, the two friends with whom I was closest. So again, that leaves you.

What I am saying is that, for the first time in my adult life, not counting that time that it was induced by that ill-advised medication they tried on me, I have been having the actual thoughts and inclinations toward it. I am in a place where there seems absolutely no hope left for happiness or peace. Every minute of my existence is purgatorial. I pray constantly, day and night, for relief, for an end to my suffering, either some change in my life, some ray of hope and light and love, or for an end to it, once and for all. But no answer comes. I used to be able to find peace, even amidst my suffering, in His presence. I used to be able to find his love and light, and rest there, no matter what else was happening in my life and my heart. But I no longer can. 

Nor can I find any relief in the less spiritual things that I used to use to distract myself. No activity, no hobby, no pastime, no interest, holds any appeal to me any longer. I try. I try to read, to write, to study, to do things around the house, to engage in time-wasting distractions, but none of it diverts me from the soul-wrenching agony I live in day and night, night and day. Even sleep, which used to be the thing which sustained me, where I had beautiful dreams and encounters with God, holds little or no relief for me anymore.

I've thought about checking myself into a facility, or calling a helpline, but then I run into that same problem: it will lead to me losing my freedom, to forced medication, forced therapy, the loss of my rights--to forever being labeled "at risk," to have a "note in my file," and to them being able to "intervene" however and whenever they see fit. To hell with that. I may have to get back on medication if this doesn't lift soon, but if so it will be because I choose to, not because someone imposes it on me. I have been trying to avoid it, because it will put me back in that place where I can't lose weight again, and that will send me, in the long run, further down the road of no life, no hope. The heavier I am, the more my physical ailments afflict me and limit me, and the worse the social isolation and ostracization becomes. But I may have to do it anyway, in the short-term.

Always before, I've come up with a plan. I'm going to do this with my life, change that in my life, regroup, refocus, redirect, and get my life back on track. But it always gets derailed somehow. And it's just reached the point where I can't see any hope of any new direction that's going to end any differently. Every time this happens, I end up having wasted years of my life on something that leads to nothing except back to the same place. I've lost the will to keep fighting.

What I really need is an answer to my prayers. For something. Someone. Anything. Anyone. To come into my life and give me some modicum of hope and love. When I reached what I thought was the low point last time, the point at which I couldn't go on along the road I was on, God sent me Carolina. I screwed that up. Or life screwed it up for me. Or we did it together. But I need some kind of help like that again. I need another miracle. I know I don't deserve it, because I didn't embrace and appreciate enough the miracle he already sent me. But I really didn't do it out of willful disobedience or obstinacy: I just failed to see clearly. I really did the best I could. I just ask for forgiveness and another chance.

Snapshot of my life right now:

Woke up at 7 AM after finally getting to sleep in the wee hours, slightly hung over because I can't sleep worth a damn without something to help quiet my mind, but even so, still don't sleep long or well. Decided, well, as long as I'm awake, may as well go to church.

Went to church, twice. Once to the nondenominational charismatic one, where I went forward for prayer when they called for someone "carrying a heavy burden". Then to Anglo-Catholic mass. Felt the Lord's touch, went home feeling okay. Resolved to fast, to quit smoking and drinking, to "push in" to the Lord until I get a breakthrough.

Listened to some people talking about Jesus and NDEs on youtube. Felt the Lord speaking to me again, something deeply touching, shed some tears. Felt like everything's going to be okay. 

Tried to take a nap. Fell asleep, awoke with all the horrible, tormenting thoughts and feelings back at full strength. Tried to pray. Ended up shouting at God, cursing at him. "Why don't you help me? Why do I have to be in such f---ing agony all the damned time? I know I f--- everything up but why don't you help me not to? I try my best: I try SO HARD to seek your will, to do what I think you want me to. Of course I f--- everything up: I'm f---ed up. But it's not my f---ing fault that I'm so f---ed up, is it? I was born f---ed up, I had a f---ed up life, how am I supposed to be anything but f---ed up?" Repented later, of course.

Fixed myself some dinner, lit a pipe, poured a drink.

I guess I've entered the "anger" phase.

Nurse: "Do you drink alcohol?"

Me: "Yes."

Nurse: "How much?"

Me: "Enough that I've had to switch to a cheaper brand of whiskey because I was going through too much."

Nurse: "Do you think you have a problem?"

Me: "Yes, but it's not drinking."

Nurse: "What is it?"

Me: "Complete, utter, crushing, loneliness, regret, and despair."

Nurse: "You know, we have a counselor here. Do you think it would help to talk to her?"

Me: "What's she going to do? Be my girlfriend? Be my friend? Go out with me? Hang out at my house? Live with me?"

Nurse: "No."

Me: "Then I hardly think she can help."

I'm thinking that I'm going to sell this house. I am just not happy here. It seemed that everything was going well for me, up until almost the exact moment that I moved in, and I've been miserable ever since. I've made a lot of improvements, and there's a very good market for places like this right now due to the instability in the world, so I'll list it for substantially more than I bought it for--enough to cover the improvements, my moving expenses, and hopefully a bit of profit. If it doesn't sell for as much as I need, then I won't sell it--I'm not under any compulsion to do so. I actually got it for a lot less than the initial asking price, so I'll start out around that same point, and if God blesses me I'll come out with a nice bit to put in the bank, like last time. 

I think I'll find a rental for a year or so, something small and relatively inexpensive, spend the time of the lease saving money and finishing paying off my credit cards, and then when I near the end of it, start looking for another place to buy, but without any time pressure. That way I can find the truly right one. Maybe even an apartment in town...try something completely different. I'll have to get a storage unit again, for all my garden and power tools and such, but a smaller one should do. I'm very inclined to go back to Charlottesville; it just feels like home, since I was there so long, and every time I go back I feel very sad and homesick.  

My grief book says that you shouldn't make any major life decisions while grieving. But I did, and I think now that buying this place was a mistake. Grief makes the world seem like chaos, and my internal chaos combined with the larger chaos in the world right now--not so much the virus itself, but all the rioting and general insanity, to drive me to look for a place where I felt safe from it. It was a poor decision. I felt, at the time, like I was led to it, but I didn't pray that much about it. I just prayed to find something, saw this, and assumed it was the one. 

Part of this is me waking up from my grief-coma. Or grief-death, more like. All the things I once thought I wanted out of life, thought were so important, just don't seem to matter so much anymore. My world has changed, my paradigm shifted, by my daughter's death. That's part of what's going on with the house--that idea I always had, of homesteading, self-sufficiency, being Charles Ingalls--it just doesn't make any damn sense without a family here with me to do it all for. 

I don't have that much life left, and I've wasted too much of it already. I'm going to try to find whatever happiness I can with the rest.

I feel the need to talk about what happened with Carolina. I'm not going to go into great detail, nor reveal anything too personal or embarrassing; nor will I go on and on about it like I did before. But I do need to process and work through my thoughts and feelings, and this is where I do that. As I've said before, I am a writer, writing is how I do this, and this blog is my journal.

When she returned to me after our first meeting and time together, we had a misunderstanding of intent. Let me back up. She is Italian, but has dual Canadian citizenship. She had, the year previous to our meeting, tried moving to Toronto to start a new life, but wasn't happy. When we met, she had just left Canada and was doing some traveling in the US before going back home. But home had always been a very bad place for her--her life had been one of suffering, tragedy, and peril. 

You may remember that when she went home, we had agreed to pray about and consider our future--whether it was to be together or not. And for her, it was where? geographically, as well as what? and who? We had initially thought it would be some time before she returned, maybe even after I finished my pilgrimage. But as soon as she got back, the trouble and danger started again, and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving her there. So I suggested Come back, travel with me, we will seek the Lord's plan for both our lives, both in general and as regards our relationship. This was before Adina died. But when she did, I thought, Thank God she is returning, because I desperately need her right now.

My idea was that we would pursue a relationship--very seriously, with the clear intent of the possibility of marriage, but soberly and prudently. I normally wouldn't cohabitate with someone like that, but the circumstances were exceptional--I thought the moral risks were preferable to the very real dangers she faced in Italy. 

I tried to be very clear and careful about making any promises that I might not be able to keep. Probably I was too clear, or too--I don't know what to call it--on that point. Too male, perhaps. That thing where the man speaks factually and literally, and the woman hears something totally different from what he means. Or too honest, perhaps, according to one of my woman friends..."She didn't need to know about your inner struggles--she needed reassurance." Anyway, my plan was that we would go on this spiritual journey, and see if God opened some door or gave her some revelation about her future. Simultaneously, we would be building our relationship, and seeking God's will for that. I thought that, if God gives her some direction for her life, then I will help her get started in it. Materially, financially, whatever it took. Like perhaps finding a job or ministry here in America through which she could get residency, or maybe trying a different city in Canada where it wasn't as cold and grey as Toronto, like Vancouver. I would have taken her there in my trailer, stayed until she got established, then continued our relationship, still working toward marriage. I was even prepared, if all else failed, to give her a "technical" marriage, like C.S. Lewis did for Joy Davidman, so that she could stay here. I was going to do those things whether we ended up still in a relationship or not: I was very aware of her need and my obligation to her. 

And I thought that, whatever the case, whatever direction opened up for her, we would continue our relationship until it became clear either that we were ready for forever, or that we weren't going to be. I actually had this idea that she needed to find a little bit of independence, of herself, her own direction, her own life, before either of us could really know if I was the one for her. I wanted her to be able to stand on her own, and then choose me, if that's what she wanted, because she wanted to, not because she saw no other option.

Her idea, however, was that we were going to be married within a few months of her returning. And when, a couple of months into it, I was still in basically the same place--talking about whether our future was together or apart, she began to lose hope and feel betrayed and disappointed, again, like always before in her life. Very understandable, but incorrect: I would never have just abandoned her, under any circumstances. As evidenced by the fact that I did help her, when she went back to Italy the second time, even though we were broken up. 

Also, she thought that it was all just about the other girl. In the very beginning, it had been. But like I wrote in the previous post, that ended, or began to end, before she ever came back from Italy. And as time went on, it became less and less about that, and more and more about just making the best decisions that we could. Yeah, it took a while to work all the way out. But I would think that would recommend me as a husband rather than not: the fact that I can love so faithfully and loyally and am so slow to change, even in the face of discouragement and obstacles. I would think that kind of love would be worth waiting a little bit for. 

My idea on it was: if God speaks to me clearly that she is the one: that I should marry her, I will do it immediately and without hesitation. But if he does not, or if I'm not certain that he has, then I will use the usual means to decide; good judgment, responsibility, compatibility, and, yes, feelings. And that takes time. My feelings were growing, were changing. But as I said below, I got stuck because of my grief, and also just felt lost and in a mental haze, and so was not capable of making a major life decision like this. 

Let me be clear: it's not that I didn't love her. I did, already. Very much. Deeply. Passionately. I was in love with her. But there's being in love, and then there's being ready to get married. I wasn't saying to her, "I can't" or "I won't". I was just saying "I'm not ready yet. Let's continue down this road."

I totally understand her fear and doubt. In addition to the emotional situation, she had very real concerns about her visa, her permitted time here in the US, and her material safety--not from me, but about her circumstances. She was basically homeless, jobless, and in a foreign country, and feeling very insecure. I failed at the time, due to my psychological state, to really see the depth of her need for reassurance and address it. I didn't totally neglect it, but I didn't do enough. And so she eventually just lost faith and trust, and that was the beginning of the end. And when it started to go downhill, I wasn't able to see and address the core issue, I just sort of withdrew myself from her, again because I was in emotional limbo. When she finally left, it was just after I had been told I had cancer, and I didn't even have the will to fight for her: I was like, "Fine, go. I'll just stay here and die."

And, at the time, I was trying to be objective, and rational, and mature about it. "Well, I guess it wasn't meant to be. Goodbye, God bless, and thank you." But I really wasn't in touch with what was going on in my own heart: that grief was buried beneath all the other grief, and only now am I feeling how sorry I am that it ended as it did.

I really, honestly was very open to marrying her. Wanting it, even. In fact, it really felt like we already were. I was moving closer and closer to it all the time, albeit very slowly due to my being stuck in grief. But also, I think it was impossible for me to completely reach that place without some freedom. I felt under a lot of pressure to marry her out of obligation and expectation. And if I had done that, I would always have wondered if I'd done it because I truly loved her and wanted to, or if I'd only done it because I felt I had to--and then I would have ended up feeling trapped. I didn't want to end up like my first marriage. Love needs freedom to truly grow. And in the end, our having broken up did lead to my feelings reaching that point. But we just never got the timing right. I didn't have the clarity and self-awareness that I needed to really tell her where I was, where I had been, and why, until it was too late.

I take responsibility for my failure. I am truly sorry. But I just wasn't capable of doing any better, in the state and circumstances that I was in. I wasn't able to see past my own grief clearly enough to perceive how much she was suffering, and what she needed from me.

On the other hand, I do feel abandoned and betrayed myself. She did leave me at the exact darkest moment of my life. And she had sworn, over and over, that she wanted to heal me, to take away all the pain of my past, all the rejection, sorrow, loneliness, and regret. And then instead, became another rejection, sorrow, and regret. I don't really blame her--I know she was acting out of fear and past trauma. She opened herself up completely, made herself totally vulnerable to me, and then thought I was going to hurt and abandon her just like everyone else had. I wasn't, but I can see why she thought so.

And that's where I keep getting stuck: Why didn't God help us? We both were obviously not able to get it right on our own, but not really out of our own fault: we were both crippled by trauma and fear. So if this was our one chance, and it seems so obvious that he brought us together, why did he let us get it so wrong, when we were both praying so fervently to see and do his will? It seems so clear now, that I was supposed to save her and she was supposed to heal me, and we missed it, even though we were both doing the best that we were capable of. Why didn't he give us just a little nudge in the right direction, to help us get it right?

I just wish I could see if that was because God planned it that way, and we are now in his will and both expecting good things to come, or if we completely missed it and blew the opportunity of a lifetime. I hope it's the former, but it feels very much like the latter.

I'm going to address the question about the other thing, the other girl. I said I'm not going to write about her anymore, and I'm not. But there's something I need to say about the thing itself: about God.

As far as my feelings are concerned, I am past it. Her ignoring me that day on the street, days after my daughter's funeral, allowed me to begin that process. Anger is a potent antidote to love-sickness. My heart didn't change entirely in that one day, but the root was cut and then the tree began to wither; my anger over that led me to allow myself to finally be angry about everything else, which unlocked the next stage of the process. Losing a relationship, or in this case my whole life, my reputation, my community, and all my friendships, is very similar, emotionally, to the death of a loved one. Now, I can't say there's absolutely nothing left, but whatever may still be there, I've put in a box, and hidden in the back of the top shelf of my closet. I may throw it away one day. I will throw it away, if I end up with someone else. But for now I just don't want to mess with it--just leave it closed up and hidden away.

I'm not angry anymore--I have forgiven. But I'm more or less indifferent. 

But what about God's plan? That's the real question. Was I wrong? Was the whole thing a delusion? 

Of course, skeptics always said it was, all along. But I still don't believe so. I still believe he spoke to me. I'm open to the possibility that I was mistaken in some of it, that I got some details wrong--most likely I was. Certainly, some of the way I handled it was wrong--driven by my own trauma and brokenness. But the overall direction, I am sure that I wasn't. So why didn't it happen?

I don't know. I mean, obviously, the reason it never happened in the material is that she never chose to.  But I'm talking about in the spiritual--why did, God say it and then not do it? Once again, I do not mean this in a way that violates free will--that he would force her. God doesn't work like that. I mean that he knew that at some point, under some conditions, she would have chosen, and he would have arranged for those conditions to occur. The most likely explanation is that I failed somehow. Either I failed materially, in that he gave me opportunities and I failed to act, or acted wrongly. Or I failed spiritually. God's promises are often conditional: you see this in scripture. "If you will do a, b, and c, then I will do x, y, and z." So I probably failed to do a, b, or c. 

Or perhaps I just gave up too soon--it wasn't that I sensed the leading to do so, it was that I just plain ran out of strength and endurance. It was one crushed hope and broken heart too many. So I had already begun to resolve, in my will, to try and move on, but didn't have the emotional impetus to do it: Carolina's arrival in my life and Adina's death and her response, or lack of response, to it provided me with that. But it seems that the timing of all those things would indicate that God was helping me in that resolution.

The point I want to make, the reason I'm addressing it, is to say that God does not fail. God does not break his promises. God is not unjust. God is not arbitrary and cruel. That's the original lie that led the whole human race into this mess. God is good. He is kind. He is loving. He is generous. He is always totally, completely, perfectly just. If bad things happen to me, then they are either my fault, or trials which he allows me to endure for my own growth and benefit.

What I want is to vindicate God of the charge of injustice. I know I've said some things recently that kind of lean that way too. But that's just me venting my worst thoughts and emotions. It's not what I truly believe. I believe and confess that God is just, God is true, God is always fair.

So, the skeptic says, "It sounds like you're saying that everything good that happens to you is God, and everything bad that happens to you is your own fault." Well, yes. That's exactly what I'm saying. God is always right, and if I am or anyone else is opposing him, then we are wrong.  

It's about obedience and submission. It's something skeptics and unbelievers just can't seem to understand. To some people, obedience and submission to God seem like weakness and indecision. But submission to the Lord isn't not knowing what you want, or not being able to make up your mind. You can want something with all your heart; need it desperately; think you can't live without it; and yet surrender it to him and be willing to accept what he has for you instead. The world's way of doing things is, "Know what you want and take it." But God's way is "Give me everything, and I will give you what I know is best for you." This is one of the absolute core principles of Christianity. "Abraham, sacrifice your son, Isaac." "Father, if it be thy will, let this cup pass from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done."

Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done.

So the Lord's presence was only a temporary respite, and I'm back in darkness. In this darkness, it seems that all my previous beliefs about his activity in my life are foolishness, and that there is no hope that anything positive and good, much less supernatural and blessed, is ever going to happen in my life.

The mystical doctors talk frequently about "temptations against faith and hope." What I am experiencing is a constant third-degree pressure, like The Green Lady on Perelandra, to give in, give up. 

The thought is not to give up on Christ or Christianity altogether (though I have no doubt that would come later, if I gave in at this stage), but to quit this ridiculous idea that I'm hearing and being led by God directly, or especially that he has promised me any particular blessing here in this life. I've been thinking, over and over, that it's time to just give up on all that silliness, go to mass and confession a couple of times a year, try to live the most moral life that I can, hope for salvation when I die, and otherwise just do what I want.

"How long have you waited? How often have you believed that you were 'almost there'? And what have you got to show for it? What has he ever done for you? Where are his blessings? Where is all the good he's promised you? He has failed you." And then it shifts...maybe it's God himself who is telling you this. Maybe he's brought you to this pass to teach you to eschew all that foolishness, and just use your own God-given sense in life. And then it will shift again to, "Well maybe he did move in your life--maybe he did act. But you blew it. He sent you a woman who adored you and the opportunity for a whole new life, and you just lost everything through your own fault and went back to your old one. You forfeited his blessing and now you've lost it, and are never going to get another. He's angry at you, and leaving you to your own devices." And then it circles around back to the first one. "It's because you dithered about with all that nonsense about guidance and leading, instead of just doing the thing that was obvious in front of you." 

That last one is the one I believe most. But it has to be a lie. How could one be punished for trying too hard to find God's will and obey it? I can see for obstinately refusing God's will, or even for failing to seek it. But for just trying and falling short? 

Obviously it's all a lie and a temptation. But it's hard to believe that when you're in it. Or that it's ever going to end. It's like the darkness in Shelob's cave, or like the Green Witch's spell in Underland--it doesn't just take the light from one's eyes, it steals all memory of light, makes one believe that light was a false imagination, that there has never been any such thing as light.