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Sometimes life can get to be too much and boy am I feeling that way right now. As I wake up from my first full day back home, I am facing the cold hard reality of my situation. And while I’m ready to buckle down and get to work, I am feeling a bit overwhelmed. It has been far too long since I have been able to sit down and write, and more than ever I need to work through some of this.

Last Friday started as the best day of my life. Yet somehow I have to come to grip with the fact that it was my worst day as well. It started around 1:00am. I went home to Patrick. I came home after a wonderful woman sat with me at Timken Mercy hospital and talked. After spending the majority of Thursday on a soul walk, one that took me from Portage Lakes all the way down to Canton, I found myself dizzy and lightheaded. I never asked the woman’s name but she and I started interacting almost immediately after I walked through the emergency room doors. We talked for hours while we both were waiting to be seen – it was almost as though time stood still.

I love that woman. She told me I had a beautiful soul, that mine was one in a billion. I can honestly say that is hands down, without a doubt, the best compliment I will ever receive. Beauty fades, but your soul – that’s forever. And this beautiful godly woman told me mine was remarkable. Beaming doesn’t begin to explain the inner joy I feel with that compliment. However, her presence to me was so much more than just a compliment. We talked. And talked some more. She called me out for being so silly to think I needed to pull myself away from my family. She laughed with me at my childish behavior and my brattiness. Because she saw how bratty I was being. We laughed. I cried. She comforted me. We talked more. And finally, she gave me her cousin’s cell phone so I could call Patrick.

Would you believe, even though he was on the other line and didn’t recognize the number dialing in at 12:40 in the morning, in the off chance it was me, he answered right away? I told Patrick how I was ready to come home. He still wanted me to come home after being so stupid. Patrick still wanted me with him. And somehow our friend was in the area and willing to get out of bed to take me home. I laugh because he told me if he had been out of his pants for more than ten minutes he wouldn’t have been coming out. Thank you Dave, for getting back in your pants so you could pick my butt up and take me where I should have been all along.

I can’t begin to explain how blessed I am. Though I made and continue to make the worst mistakes a person could make, I have friends in spades who come out of the woodwork to rescue me when I’m down. I don’t feel worthy of that kind of love and affection because I feel like I am in a continual state of screwing up, always in need of help. Yet and still, I am grateful for the unconditional care and concern my friends and family have shown.

So I came home to Patrick waiting at the door. Middle of the night and he was still waiting up for me. Our night was blissful. Any more explanation would take away from the beautiful magic of it all. We woke in each other’s arms to start the day, renewed and ready to get going on the tasks before us. We readied the girls and headed out. It was perfect because I felt at peace with the universe. I felt a complete sense of joy. Everything was perfect the way it was. I no longer harbored any ill feelings toward anyone in my past because without each and every good or bad, happy or sad, fun or boring event, each and every single one contributed to the happiness I was feeling in that particular moment. It was intoxicating. And boy did I inhale that bliss!

After dropping the girls at school and with grandma, Patrick and I decided to take a drive. This trip was about getting Patrick to trust his instincts. We have had quite a few opportunities thrown our way and Patrick has been struggling with which would be the best fit for him. My personal belief is to go with your gut. Unfortunately life (and myself) have worn him down, leaving him doubting the most important person in the world – himself. And so we drove. We had a limited amount of gas, a small amount of change, and the rest of the day ahead of us. Our drive took us around and around.  We drove through the city, through the countryside, through rural areas, through suburbs. We saw a little bit of everything. As we drove through farmland I realized how strong the allure of nature is. I want to be out in the earth, getting dirty, smelling flowers, tilling the earth, growing, playing, spending the day toiling away in sunlight. I could totally see myself buying a huge 74 acre farm and just dying happy. Patrick wasn’t put off from the idea either. It’s bad when your husband is unable to tell you no because your dreams literally have no limit. I love you baby!

So our drive took us around. As we were following our instincts, the drive brought us back to the city. As we drove, Patrick suprised me by saying, “If that is a Baptist church, I’m going to shit my pants”.  Well as I looked to see what he was talking about, we made a right turn onto the street bringing us within full view of the sign Prince of Peace Parish. A Baptist Missionary Church. Patrick couldn’t believe it. Slowly we pulled into a parking spot, where we were the only car in the lot. There was a man in front of the church, loading up the back of his truck with lawn equipment.  Patrick sat very still for a moment. I asked if we were getting out and he nodded and stepped out of the vehicle.  I think I must have started losing my mind at this point because that’s when the fuzzy feeling started. As I stepped out of the car everything became overwhelmingly beautiful and perfect. The gentleman that was standing in front of the church was the Deacon. We asked about services and what the general beliefs of the church were. The Deacon’s eyes fell on my stitched and bloody eye, an eye so many look at and assume the very worst, and then looked at both Patrick and I and said,

“We don’t care about your story. Come as you are.” 

I believe I started crying at that point. That was everything I ever wanted to hear from the very last place I ever expected to hear it. And those simple words broke me down completely because I finally felt like I had a home. Everything made perfect sense in the blink of an eye. I don’t feel connected to money or houses or bands or anything because nothing truly accepts me for me, nothing accepts that I am perfect the way I am – no changes necessary. This wonderful church literally opened their doors to Patrick and myself, despite having other commitments, other people waiting. The Deacon unlocked the door for strangers and walked us all around the church. I am sure he must have thought I was insane as I cried my way through the visit. But I still stand by the fact that was the most perfect church I could have asked for. It was small and humble but so gorgeous it made me weep. And the sense of home I felt was near indescribable.  I spend my life at the whim of my emotions but at home I can find a level of calm and serenity that could quell the fiercest storms. Though I was weeping, the peace and serenity I felt had no rival to anything I’ve felt before. I finally found my home.

That night, the church was having a Mother/daughter banquet. The room was already decorated in pink, the color of unconditional love. And true to form, the Deacon invited our entire family to the dinner. He was unconcerned with the number of people that would be coming with us, he told us to bring our family. And I wanted my entire family. I finally found my home and I wanted desperately to fill it with the people I consider family – those who love me and all of the craziness I bring with me, good and bad. It felt so perfect that I finally felt like I had come home to a place that was celebrating their mother’s that very night. I felt it perfect timing considering I feel the need to show to world how to be a source of unconditional love and acceptance, how to be a mother. And so I wanted to invite everyone.

But I am going to stop here. This is where I believe my day stops being the best and somehow warps to being the worst. I don’t want to taint all of the positive moments above with the confusion and darkness of what comes next.

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