The Christian Girl's Guide to Divorce

Jan 25 2015

Ramblings

You Don’t/Can’t Always Get What You Want

After two, very full months on the road, I am finally back in New York. The days have passed quickly as I re-adjust to life in the dead of winter.

I had the privilege of spending almost three weeks in California over Christmas and the new year. (It is not “New Years”! Get your grammar correct, people!) My days were filled with the familiar warmth of friendship and the sun; sandy beaches and cold, clear ocean water. Every day was perfect, even when it rained. Southern California is completely annoying in that way.

Right before I returned home, I decided to pay a visit to my therapist. I wanted to catch her up on the goings-on of my life and make sure I haven’t gone entirely crazy. I was happy to report self-assessed instances of graduation from co-dependency and stubborn independence; learning to say “no”, asking for help and giving myself grace when I fail to be perfect.

I blabbed about work and dating (and how seemingly impossible it is to do both). I also found myself shaking my head at the fact I have been single for six years.

“I mean, I truly thought I’d be married with kids by now,” I said.

My therapist leaned forward in her plush chair and smiled, kindly.

“Well, we don’t always get what we want in life,” she stated.

Oh, dear God, she’s right.

Aaaand, cue the next song in the soundtrack of my life.

When my hour was up, I hugged my therapist goodbye and told her I’d be reporting back, periodically. As I shut the door to her office, I realized I had echoed what many single women my age struggle with.

Marriage. Family. Security. The lack thereof.

My next appointment was at the gynecologist’s office. She took one look at me and said, “You’re 37. If you want to have babies, you’d better get pregnant NOW, or freeze your eggs.”

“Not happening,” I shrugged, casually. “Not much I can do about it, really. Besides, with my lifestyle, I’m not even sure I want to have kids.”

“All right,” my doctor replied, in a sing-songy voice.

Mother of fuckery, what did I just say?

My therapist’s voice echoed in my head.

We don’t always get what we want.

*****

I’m pretty terrible at math, but I managed to figure out a theory. I’m going to call it the “Western Christianese Equation.” It goes a little something like this:

A + B = C

A = I did everything right / I was good / I followed the rules

B = God (who bears a striking resemblance to Santa Claus in that he most certainly rewards good behavior)

C = Blessing / Hashtag blessed / Getting what I want

I relied upon this equation for quite a long time. I was a good girl who married a good guy. And because Western Christianity more or less teaches us that faithful and obedient Christians get (and stay) married, buy houses and have babies, I thought I, too, would have those things.

And I did, for a while. I had a husband and I owned a house. I had (too many) pets and always assumed I would bear children.

Enter an unplanned element into the equation: marriage implosion. Still subscribing to the theory, however, I was convinced things would work out in my favor.

You probably already know the story, but I’ll sum it up for you: Good Christian Girl fights for her marriage but ultimately ends up divorcing Good-Guy-Turned-Cheating-Douchebag-Husband, who is already (illegally) married. Cheating Douchebag Husband goes on to live in a new home by the sea and have an adorable baby with Sister Wife.

Christian Girl is still single and childless.

Wait – WHAT?!?!?!

My mind wanders to other stories of divorce I have heard lately:

Good guy marries good girl. Guy cheats and leaves her for another woman.
Good guy marries good girl. Guy cheats and leaves her for another man.
Good guy marries good girl. Girl cheats and leaves him. Period.
Good guy marries good girl. Girl quits the marriage and does everything possible to alienate the children from him. (Unfortunately, I know several instances of this scenario.)
Good guy marries good girl. Guy turns out to be a narcissistic psychopath. Girl cheats. Girl marries a second time but marriage fails.

All of these stories are true and have the following endings. Hark back to your elementary school tests and draw a line to match your answer.

A. Person is single.
B. Person finds another person almost immediately after divorce, remarriage takes place, and a beautiful child is born.
C. Person meets another person, a beautiful child is born, and remarriage is taking place sometime soon.
D. Person is dating again.
E. Person is questioning everything.

In all instances, (E) is the correct answer.

Why? Because life does not begin – or even end – with getting what you want. Marriage is hard. Raising kids is hard.

Life is hard.

Additionally, not one scenario ends with, “I am exactly where I hoped/planned to be.”

Therefore, A + B cannot equal C. The equation does not work, no matter how hard you try, or pray.

*****

I long for the day when Christian culture stops idolizing marriage, family and security. We are losing our identities in them. What is more, we are encouraging a mindset that life is not – and cannot be – complete without a loving spouse, 2.5 children and some form of white picket fence.

There are only three things in life that are certain:

1. You are born.
2. God loves you.
3. You die.

That’s it. We’ve got to learn to be content with who we are and what we have, this very moment.

Perhaps The Stones communicated it best:

You can’t always get what you want.
You can’t always get what you want.
You can’t always get what you want,
but if you try sometimes you might find
you get what you need.

Dec 31 2014

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Adventure

Keep Moving Forward

2014 has been a good year.

I started out essentially homeless, not knowing when or if I would be able to move into an apartment that was seemingly hand-picked by God, Himself. It took several months, a few losses (and tantrums), but I finally landed.

Moving to New York City might have been the craziest, bravest and most adventurous thing I have done yet. And it hasn’t turned out at ALL what I had expected or planned.

Isn’t that just how life works?

As I reflect from a high-floored, Las Vegas casino hotel room on this New Year’s Eve, I am grateful for the opportunity to travel and do what I absolutely love.

I sing. I perform. I write. I love life.

If anything this past year has taught me, it is to never fear. You cannot control the circumstances, outcome or even other people, but the adventure itself is worth every twist and turn. The journey is worth the heartache.

Most important: God will never abandon you.

Ever.

The adventure continues in 2015. Take risks. Leap into the unknown. Love freely, fiercely and with abandon. Live in the moment. Keep hoping. Keep dreaming. Keep moving forward.

Happy, blessed New Year.

Oct 30 2014

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Beauty, Healing

The Most Refining Thing

Fifteen years ago today, I got married.

I think it’s pretty safe to say no one genuinely walks down the aisle, planning to be divorced. I most certainly didn’t, as a young, extremely wide-eyed, blushing virgin bride (who was very much in love with her charming husband).

But somehow the marriage begins to crumble. It’s a slow fade, over time and choice.

Love is always a choice.

And so, through the struggle and pain and shit and hell and fire and snot and screams and tears and questions and rage and mistakes and surrender, you wake up one day and realize you’ve survived.

I hesitate to proclaim my divorce is the best thing that ever happened to me, because I believe in marriage. What is more, I believe in fighting for marriage.

But when the battle has been fought and you realize you’re the only one left in the ring, you learn to put down your sword, take a deep breath and let the dust settle.

Beauty from ashes.

So I say my divorce is the most refining thing that ever happened to me.

I learned my worth.
I learned I am worth fighting for.
I learned I have the most incredible people in my life, who love and stick by me, for better or for worse.

I am learning to forgive.

I am not the person I was when I got married fifteen years ago. I am also not the person I was five years ago, when my marriage ended.

I’m not even the person I was five minutes ago. I hope and pray to be continually refined, by the One Who will always love me; who will never leave me. For that, I am so grateful.

God is good.

Oct 22 2014

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Humanity

Gerard, the Angel

I went to a New York museum opening alone last night, not even properly dressed. I wandered the exhibit sipping a glass of overly-sweet white wine and nibbling on a breadstick wrapped in an oversized napkin. I was surely the only non-Jew in attendance.

Afterward, I sauntered to Central Park, sat on a rock facing the Harlem Meer and cried.

I also prayed.

I prayed for friends who are suffering through a miscarriage. I prayed for friends struggling with divorce. For friends my age with cancer; friends recovering from divorce *and* cancer.

As I finally got up to walk home, I passed a man shuffling along the path with a walker. I instantly felt compelled to talk to him.

“Hello, what’s your name?” I asked.

“Gerard,” he answered, with a smile. “I’m an angel.”

I sat down with Gerard on a park bench. We shared stories.

Gerard was born and raised in Brooklyn but now lives — assisted — in Harlem because he had a stroke. He’s been married twice. Both of his wives died. The most recent passed away five years ago. Gerard has a son my age from his first marriage, but they do not communicate.

Coincidentally, Gerard said he’s had a hard time talking to women because he’s still mourning the loss of his second wife. Yet he was happy to chat with me. Likewise, it was good to talk to the man. I have been lonely.

Loneliness can really get the better of you sometimes.

As we chatted, the thing that made me saddest (I think?) was Gerard telling me I would be a good mother. He said it a few times.

As much as I appreciate it, I’m tired of hearing that line. I cannot be something over which I have no control. There are a lot of things at which I am/would/could be good. I hope for those things, but cannot allow my life to revolve around them.

I may never be overly successful in my career. It’s always an uphill climb, mixed with euphoric highs, devastating lows and frustrating politics, but as long as I can continue supporting myself, I’m okay with that.

I may never marry again. I think I’m okay with that.

I may never be a mother. I have to be okay with that.

*****
Gerard told me a great story about his involvement with the Brooklyn-turned-Los Angeles Dodgers and we agreed to be friends. We will meet in the park on Tuesdays, to chat. I’m going to teach him piano at his assisted living home, to help strengthen his right hand.

After an hour of conversation, the wind turned slightly colder. It whipped orange and yellow leaves in our direction. In the distance, flashes of lightning were accompanied by rolling thunder.

I asked Gerard if he really was an angel.

“Nah,” he grinned. “I was happy you wanted to talk to me. But I do live on the top floor of my building.”

Sep 02 2014

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Grace, Healing, Hope, Moving Forward

Thirty-Seven

On August 30, I celebrated my 37^th birthday.

I had a very small gathering at a cozy, candle-lit wine bar in Greenwich Village, called 8^th Street Wine Cellar. It was the same place I celebrated my 32^nd birthday, just one day before moving home to Los Angeles and discovering my husband’s infidelity.

I remember pacing the sidewalk, arguing with X over the phone right before my party started. I didn’t understand why he was so volatile. I didn’t understand why I was so angry with him.

We left the conversation unresolved. He mumbled “Happy Birthday,” and I hung up. I walked down the stairs, into the cool cellar where my friends were waiting. Almost immediately, I was happy again. I was loved. I was celebrated. And I felt torn. I didn’t want to leave New York but I had to try and save my marriage.

*****

It would be more than two years before I returned to New York City. And every time I did, I arranged social gatherings at 8^th Street Wine Cellar.

In December 2011, my boyfriend (at the time) surprised me with a trip. I was beside myself with joy. I took him to all my favorite places, including the wine bar. We shared Malbec and charcuterie with my friend (and future roommate), Christy.

In December 2012, I sat in a corner booth with Christy and cried.

“I want to move here,” I blubbered, as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I have to live in New York. But I am so afraid.”

Christy took my hand. “I believe you belong in this city,” she said, gently. “I know God will make a way for it to happen.”

And He did.

In December 2013, after having just found our current apartment, Christy and I sat in the very same corner booth and sketched living room designs on a Tempranillo-stained napkin.

Last Saturday, I celebrated my 37^th birthday at 8^th Street Wine Cellar. What is more, I experienced a miracle. A full circle. I celebrated God’s kindness in restoring me from the pit of divorce; the ashes of pain and loss. I rejoiced in the fact that even though my marriage failed, I had not. I proclaimed God graciously carried me back to the city where I had begun to find my true identity. I applauded the goodness of singlehood. Over wine and in candlelight, I laughed with my friends at horrible dating stories, parenting snafus and work crises.

I raised a glass to healing and hope.

Thirty-seven is the year of surrender. I know not what the tomorrow may bring. What I do know is that I am fiercely loved. My future – whatever it holds – is bright and full of life.

Thanks be to God.

Sep 02 2014

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Grace, Moving Forward

August 14

August 14 is my ex-husband’s birthday.

On August 14, 2010 — the year I filed for divorce — I went on a date and had a wild makeout session with an old college crush. It was the very first time I had kissed another man besides my husband in the heat of passion. I remember feeling exhilarated and awkward. It wasn’t X or his body. It was exciting and strange, all at once; totally unfamiliar. I felt like I was doing something wrong.

I cried the entire next day and never saw the guy again.

2011 saw me finally divorced, traveling and kissing men in France, yet still angry X got away with infidelity and bigamy. In 2012 I was mourning the loss of my first post-divorce relationship.

As the years continue to pass, dates that connect me to X are just not significant anymore. They still exist, but we have both moved on with our lives.

This year, August 14 almost slipped by without incident. I worked a day gig on the Upper East Side and started to pack for my shows in Pittsburgh the following week.

Somehow, I mentioned X to my roommate Christy that evening, as we conversed over a lovely bottle of rose.

“We should raise a glass to him,” she smiled.

“No, I don’t want to do that. Fuck that guy,” I immediately responded, out of habit.

And then I softened.

“No, actually, you know what? You’re right. Let’s toast him. He does not hold the power to hurt me anymore.”

We lifted our glasses into the light. Outside, on 5^th Avenue, sirens from the fire station up the street began to blare. A school of yellow and green taxicabs flashed by in a flurry. A double decker bus full of tourists on a sunset drive floated by. And the trees swayed gently in the summer breeze.

I closed my eyes and let the words fall out of my mouth.

“Here’s to the boy who was;
the boy who is;
and the man whom only God has the power to change.”

Jul 29 2014

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F Bombs

Real Respects Real

After meeting a friend for dinner and playing hopscotch in Central Park with two strangers on my way home the other night, I decided I wasn’t quite ready for bed.

I stopped in at the restaurant below my apartment for a night cap.

The place was fairly crowded for such a late night. Eventually, I was approached by a very attractive man. (“Excuse me, miss, may I join you for some humble conversation?”) We got to chatting. He shared with me he is Puerto Rican, has three beautiful children and is a former Sports Illustrated model. He is also a drug dealer and gang member.

“I’ve been shot twice!” He exclaimed.

“Tell me the story!” I exclaimed, right back, and he lifted his pant leg to show me his still-swollen kneecap, and the crude scar from the hole on the top of his right hand. Both shooting incidents were gang-related. His friend stitched up his hand; he had major surgery on his knee.

“So I have to ask you,” I said. “I was held up at gunpoint once, — in LA — but I didn’t get shot. I told the guy to fuck off. Looking back, I think that was probably a stupid thing to do, right?”

He looked me straight in the eye.
“Nah, man. They wouldn’t mess with you, because you’re real. And Real respects Real.”

Jul 02 2014

16 Comments

Sex

True Love Waits

Sex has been on my mind a lot lately.

Singleness, too, but more so, sex.

As a divorced Christian woman, I don’t know how I feel about it anymore. And since sex – along with divorce – is a taboo topic, I want to fling wide those gates.

I was raised a Christian since birth and grew up in a predominantly conservative church. I gave my life to Jesus/was born again/became heaven-bound/got saved/whatever-you-want-to-call-it at the tender age of eight. My formative years were spent twice a week or more in youth group. I learned the horrors of abortion, drugs, premarital sex, listening to the wrong kind of music and what would happen to me if I didn’t accept Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior before the campfire wore down to a mere glow.

I was shown live abortion videos, documentaries on backmasking (Beware! If you play a song backwards it becomes Satanic!) and a 1970’s film depicting the end times entitled A Thief in the Night. I knew all the statistics on teen pregnancy, listened to drug addicts’ testimonies and watched my peers around me fall, one-by-one, making mistakes.

I decided I didn’t want to mess up. I didn’t want to be shamed in front of the congregation for having sex, becoming pregnant or addicted to drugs. I definitely didn’t want to violently kill a baby, invite Satan into my life by listening to the Beatles or end up left behind at the Rapture.

So I obeyed the rules. It really wasn’t all that hard. I didn’t have druggie friends, and I certainly didn’t have any guys banging down my door, trying to impregnate me. Plus, I was terrified of the consequences. I was taught if I broke the rules, I would not receive God’s blessing. Furthermore, I believed in my heart if I messed up – especially sexually – I would alter my life’s course and might even miss out on the person God intended as my husband.

At 15 years old, I signed a contract called “True Love Waits.” It went something like this:

Believing that True Love Waits, I make a commitment to God, myself, my family, my friends, my future mate and my future children to a lifetime of purity including sexual abstinence from this day until I enter a Biblical marriage relationship.

After high school, I attended a Christian college and signed another contract stating I would not drink, smoke, gamble, do or sell drugs, dance or have sex.

I obeyed the rules. It really wasn’t all that hard. Except (gasp!) I drank and smoked a little during a junior year semester abroad, and I definitely danced. I didn’t gyrate my pelvis towards or up against anyone else’s, but I moved pretty well.

I saved gyrating my pelvis for my wedding night, and, in a dimly lit, fairly standard room at a Hilton Hotel by the airport, I lost my virginity to my husband. I was 23 years old.

And I sighed relief, because I made it. I had remained pure. Mind you, I practically crawled to the purity finish line after a two-year engagement, but I was finally free to enjoy sex and reap the benefits of my obedience to God during my youth.

I was set. For life.

Beyond the betrayal, shock and horror of discovering my husband’s infidelities almost ten years later, imagine my disappointment and fear of being thrust (pun intended) back into the big, scary world of dating. I was no longer a virgin. My True Love Waits contract was invalid, but not by my choice. To me, there was no longer such terminology as premarital sex. It was postmarital.

It simply wasn’t fair. My obedience delivered nothing but pain and disappointment.

*****

I have been searching for real, honest answers about sex and singlehood for several years now. In a way, I am still very much the deer-in-the-headlights young woman who is afraid to make mistakes. At the same time, sex and sexuality no longer intimidates me. I am a wildly sexual being. It’s how I was created. That is not to say I cannot exercise self-control. Rather than repress my feelings and desires out of fear, I am learning to express them in a healthy way.

But I’m single. I’m not supposed to have sex outside of marriage.

My no-nonsense, straightforward, brilliant-yet-humble pastor Dr. Timothy Keller delivered a short talk at church a few months ago called “A Theology of Singleness.” His message basically stated that, although we idolize marriage and family in all cultures, singleness is truly a gift. It’s okay if we don’t have a spouse or family right now. We will have all we desire in the future – in heaven. I am still processing that concept. It is nothing like what I was taught, growing up. You find a partner, get married, have sex and kids and your life as a Christian is instantly gratified and maintains purpose. Right?

In fact, it made me think back to my 15-year-old self, signing in bubbly cursive my name on the dotted line of my True Love Waits contract. I autographed that for my future spouse and children, didn’t I?

Wrong and no.

There is no Biblical guarantee I will ever marry or have children. I hope I am finally grasping the reality that all the deepest desires I have for love, acceptance, unity, security, confidence and closure can only be satisfied in the arms of Jesus.

In his book, The Meaning of Marriage, Keller delivers another valid point.

“If singles learn to rest and rejoice in their marriage to Christ, that means they will be able to handle single life without the devastating sense of being unfulfilled and unformed. And they might as well tackle this project right away. Why? Because the same idolatry of marriage that is distorting their single lives will eventually distort their married lives if they find a partner. So, there’s no reason to wait. Demote marriage and family in your heart, put God first and begin to enjoy the goodness of single life.”

*****

But what about sex, baby?

A few mornings ago I typed the words, “Christianity and sex” into my computer’s search engine. One of the first things that popped up was Ten Reasons Not to Have Sex Outside Marriage.

I read the article and began to swear, loudly and profusely.

To be fair, some of the reasons promoting abstinence were spot-on. For example, “We will be emotionally and physically healthier.” Why, yes, dynamic single person, this is true. You won’t need to worry about herpes or genital warts, nor will you be checking your phone every hour after your one-night stand, hoping the guy actually liked you for you, instead of his conquest of your vagina after a round of drinks.

Other reasons made me grimace.

Reason #2 – We Won’t Miss Out on the Blessing of the Wedding Night
There’s something very special about a couple’s first time. In this physical act the two become one flesh. Yet it is more than just physical oneness — a spiritual union takes place. God planned for this exclusive experience of discovery and pleasure to happen only within the intimacy of marriage. If we don’t wait, we miss out on a very special blessing from God.

I’m not going to argue against the specialness of a couple’s wedding night or the very Biblical fact that sex (the way God intends it) is spiritually unique; uniting. But WHAT IS THIS SPECIAL BLESSING FROM GOD? Extra orgasms? Fireworks? A supernatural ability to be über limber? Who guarantees it?!!! When does it happen? How does it happen? Did Solomon get 700 blessings on his 700 wedding nights because he had 700 wives?

I waited to have sex until my wedding night. Thirty minutes later, I was eating a cheeseburger at Carl’s Jr. I suppose you could call that a special blessing. Add a little bacon on top, and it’s a hashtag blessing.

Reason #10 – We Won’t Settle For Less Than God’s Perfect Will
When we choose to have sex outside of marriage, we settle for less than God’s perfect will — for ourselves and for our partner. And if we do this, we don’t know what we might end up with. Perhaps we’ll end up in a miserable marriage.

So, here’s some food for thought: If your partner wants sex before marriage, consider this as a warning sign about their spiritual condition. If you are the one who wants sex before marriage, consider this as a warning sign of your own spiritual condition.

…

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????????????

This is the kind of fucking horse shit I was taught as a wide-eyed and closed-legged teenager: that I, alone, will be able to alter God’s will for my life. Are you kidding me? If I had that kind of power, why would I would need God? Furthermore, Marvel Comics would have to start a new superhero series, starring me, “Lusty Spinster.”

…we don’t know what we might end up with. Perhaps we’ll end up in a miserable marriage.

Lady, let me tell you something. I saved myself for marriage and I was SHOCKED at what I ended up with: a lying, cheating, adulterous-turned-bigamist husband. How’s that for a miserable marriage?

If your partner wants sex before marriage, consider this as a warning sign about their spiritual condition. If you are the one who wants sex before marriage, consider this a warning sign of your own spiritual condition.

WE ARE HUMAN. HUMANS want sex. Our spiritual condition is HUMAN. H-U-M-A-N. I actually would consider it a warning sign if someone I were dating didn’t want sex before marriage.

*****

What’s the answer?

I really don’t know. I have always said I am not here to provide answers, just experience. I also do not regard myself a theologian. It seems to me, however, it’s much easier for a married person to stand and preach against intercourse/fornication/coitus whatever-you-want-to-call-it from his or her soapbox or pulpit because (s)he may not be struggling with the same longing/desires/hormones as singles do.

I know, because I was once that person.

Too, just because a person is married does not mean he or she does not have similar struggles, or struggles at all.

Therefore, I feebly offer you Five Reasons This 36-Year-Old Divorcee Wants to Abstain from Sex…Right Now.

1. The Bible Tells Me So.

Not that God wants to steal all my fun. It’s for my own good, probably among the other reasons I will list below. Still, God is reckless with His grace. And grace is a blessing, unlike any other. Definitely better than a cheeseburger.

I must again say – unapologetically – I no longer have the answer about waiting to have sex until I’m married. I have been married. I have had sex. The “specialness” of being a virgin is long gone, and quite frankly, I am relieved.

Sex has fallen from its pedestal where the Church and my young, impressionable mind placed it. Life has taught me obedience to the rules does not guarantee a single thing. Grace has wrapped its loving arms around me and given me yet another chance.

I’m not trying to pick and choose which aspects of Christianity I like and want to apply to myself, but what about people like me who have found ourselves in situations we didn’t choose? I didn’t want sex with anyone besides my husband, but neither of us have that choice anymore; a result of our brokenness. I cannot go back and undo my virginity any more than I can undo my husband’s cheating.

Honestly, right now, if presented with a decent partner who was committed and loved me (and I him), I cannot say I would wait until marriage to have sex. I know the downside, too. If you engage in pre or post-marital sex, you’re not going to be struck by a lightning bolt. But you take a huge risk in getting your heart broken, again and again.

Sex is that powerful. Dammit.

2. Disease.

I don’t want STDs. An alarmingly high percentage of the population carries HPV or other sexually transmitted disease. I’d rather remain the small percentage that doesn’t. So, if and when presented with a potential sex partner, I want to know what creepy critters might be lurking up in there.

3. My Heart.

I have a huge heart and a ridiculous capacity to love, again and again. I am guilty of getting too attached, too quickly, even after kissing a man. But what is more dangerous is the bond that arises from a sexual experience. Hormones are flying about and can be mistaken for the L word. I don’t know how dudes do it, but they can separate sex and feelings. I can’t. I want to know a man truly, deeply loves me before he – well — truly, deeply, physically loves me. Furthermore, if I don’t let him all the way into my pants, I have a good shot at spending way less time crying over him when we break up.

4. Self-Respect/Trust.

Dating sucks. Most guys will give up on you after a short while if you don’t sleep with them. When did this become a thing? I would imagine it would be even more jarring if I slept with a guy on the sixth date, only to find out he isn’t all that into me on the seventh. Not to mention, “Hi, I barely know you, but let’s get naked and try to please one another by fumbling around and doing awkward, funny things that make strange noises and emit bodily fluids.”

I have to trust someone with my heart and my body.

5. True Love Waits.

Aaaaand, I threw up in my mouth a little bit typing that phrase again, but the concept is pretty solid. A man who is willing to take things slow is relationship material. A man who is willing to allow feelings to develop first and wait to have sex is worth it. A man who respects the power of sex itself is probably pretty self-aware. A man who exhibits self-control is likely to be less self-centered.

Our culture is one of immediacy: Please me NOW. Give me what I want NOW. Imagine all the things we miss out on when we expedite the process. When it comes to sex, it is so much better with foreplay. And I consider abstinence – until the time is right – major foreplay.

All in all, I do believe sex is a physical expression of love; a spilling-over of emotions that cannot be verbalized. It is beautiful and lovely and I hope to experience it again to its fullest, in this lifetime.

At the right time.

Jun 22 2014

1 Comment

Beauty, I love Jesus

Teeth Or No Teeth

2:00 pm, 120th and Madison. Headphones and ponytail firmly in place, I marched towards the train station to the beat of a Phoenix tune.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A tall, African-American woman wearing a crisp-yet-stained white shirt, bedazzled jeans and tennis shoes stopped me.

She was missing all her teeth.

I pulled out my headphones.

“I have to take a step back,” she said, and did so, “because I’m so ashamed. I don’t have any teeth.”

She opened her mouth and showed me her gums.

“That’s okay,” I reluctantly offered. I wasn’t sure what she wanted from me, and I had to catch a train.

The woman started to cry.

“I am so ugly!” she sobbed. “My husband beat me in the face a few years ago and I lost all my teeth. My daughter died when she was four and today is my birthday. I’m 69 years old.”

I took a step towards her.

“69?!?” I exclaimed, in encouraging disbelief. “Well, happy birthday!”

She sobbed, harder. Gigantic tears dropped onto her smooth cheeks. She really was beautiful.

I took another step towards her.

“May I pray for you?” I asked, not knowing what else to do.

She nodded, and bowed her head.

I stepped all the way in and placed my hand on her shoulder. Immediately, she fell into me, limp and needy. I held her. She smelled of alcohol, but it didn’t matter. She was in pain.

As I prayed for her, she softened. I prayed God would comfort her; that He would wrap His loving arms around her and remind her of how beautiful she truly is.

Teeth or no teeth.

“I may be beautiful on the inside,” she whimpered, “but I’m so ugly on the outside. People make fun of me. I just want to die. I wish I were never born.”

“That is simply untrue,” I almost scolded her. “I don’t bullshit. I speak truth, and you are beautiful. Also? You are loved far beyond you can imagine. And I am glad you are here, right now.”

She buried her face in my neck, kissed and thanked me. She didn’t want money, just clothes. I gave her my phone number and told her I did, indeed, have clothing I could give her.

“I love you,” she said. “Thank you. Please keep praying for me. I’ll see you in heaven.”

And she was gone.

*****

I’m sitting on a train platform, not sure how to process all of this, but I have a few initial thoughts.

First of all, I am reminded that humans are absolutely beautiful, no matter what size, shape, color, sexual preference, fashion sense, social/job/financial status, or disability.

We are beautiful with or without teeth.

We are worthy of love. We long to love and be loved in return.

I know why I live in New York. It’s to love the people of this city. People who are hurting and broken and missing things, like spouses and love and children and teeth. I somehow understand that pain.

Everything points to God. Even our suffering.

Jesus suffered the most. He gets it. And I’m quite sure it was He who wrapped his loving arms around that toothless woman.

He wants to envelop you, beautiful friend who is suffering. Allow Him to fully embrace you. There is nothing He cannot handle. He is the lover of your soul. He is the ultimate healer.

After all, He
“rides on the clouds;
rejoice before him—his name is the Lord.
A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
is God in his holy dwelling.”
~Psalm 68:4-5

Jun 03 2014

14 Comments

Hope, Humanity, Moving Forward, Ramblings

Having It All

Recently, I asked a friend of mine how many breakups he endured before he got married.

He thought for a moment.

“About eleven,” he answered, matter-of-factly. “I remained friends with just one of them.”

My heart sank. A couple of months ago I ended my second post-divorce relationship. It was a good, brief courtship that simply could not withstand distance. It didn’t end as dramatically as my marriage, or as passionately as things did with my first boyfriend. There was no fight, nothing. It just went away with a phone call.

Afterward, I dutifully prepared myself for a roller coaster of emotions and the five stages of grief. When it finally hit, I felt (in no particular order) relieved, frustrated, listless, sad, depressed, numb and raging angry. I burst into tears on sidewalks and airplanes. I had put everything into this new relationship and it didn’t work out. I cut myself off from social media. Then I cut him off. I deleted any and all evidence we existed as a couple. That was the saddest part.

I now feel resolved.

And, for the love of God, I cannot imagine having to go through this nine more times.

*****

I just so happen to be in Los Angeles for the album release show and party with Louis Prima Jr. and The Witnesses, so I figured I’d pay a visit to my shrink.

I’ve been seeing my therapist five years now – from the initial discovery of my husband’s affair(s) to the very day my earthly belongings left on a moving truck across the country. She’s seen it all. Lately, our visits have been jovial and celebratory.

“I’m really proud of you,” she told me in March. “You’re a miracle.”

This morning, I sat in the center of the familiar floral couch and shared the latest news: gorgeous apartment a block from Central Park, breakup, Japan tour with Brian Setzer and new album and tour with Louis Prima, Jr. I verbally processed how, since moving to New York over a year ago, my lifestyle has become less stable (for lack of a better term), but I now have a solid home base in the city I have always wanted to live.

I have been greatly hashtag blessed with my home, career and community. One thing is still missing, however. I want to share my life with a partner.

“I just don’t know how I will ever meet anyone,” I mused. “I am on the road a lot. I refuse to date online. I did it for years and hated it. I tried a long-distance relationship and it crashed and burned.”

My therapist nodded her head.

“My hope for you,” she said, “is that you’ll meet someone who has his own thing going on, and, at the same time, is flexible and supportive.”

I hummed in agreement, but left thinking, No such man exists.

*****

There’s a huge part of me that is annoyed and angry that I am such a dynamic and talented person. It feels weird to write that without sounding narcissistic, but it’s my truth. For example, if I weren’t so passionate about — and good at! — singing, I wouldn’t be on the road so much. If I were less independent, opinionated, divorced or foul-mouthed and a bit more submissive, googy-eyed and/or mousey, I might land a date with a guy from Christian Mingle who isn’t threatened by my accomplishments, or very presence.

Perhaps if I had a “real” job I’d have time to join a community group at my church in NYC and finally meet someone in the city, get married and have babies. But I won’t do it. I won’t quit what I love just because it’s what everyone else is doing. Other women my age are corralling their two toddlers while the newborn sleeps soundly in a sling tightly wound against their breast. Their husbands still gaze after them adoringly and actually write Facebook posts about how much they love their wives of two, six, 15 or 20 years.

Interestingly enough, neither my ex-husband nor two ex-boyfriends ever acknowledged a relationship with me on social media. No photos. No kissy-face pictures. No adoring posts. Nothing.

The bright side is this: it took less than a minute to erase the relationship and “unfriend” these men I loved. Realistically, I do not believe in the staying power of acknowledging relationships over social media. People come and go, which is why we should all choose our “friends” carefully. As C.S. Lewis says, “Don’t let your happiness depend on something you may lose.” I’m talking to you, serial Facebook-relationshippers.

A true relationship doesn’t need social media to acknowledge, strengthen or sustain it.

*****

Today, I do not believe I can have it all. Based upon experience, I do not actually believe I can have a successful career as a singer and have a family at the same time. It only realistically works for Gwen Stefani and Beyonce, and they were already rich and famous before they met their also-rich and famous husbands.

I am not sure if I believe, at present, there is a man in this world capable of being my partner. Dating is like playing a game of darts with a bunch of squirrely teenagers. They keep trying to hit the bullseye, but their aim and technique is staggeringly immature; unfocused. The result? Consistently off-mark. And I lack patience for the players to become skilled at the game.

Perhaps I still have a lot of work and self-reflection to do. Well, go ahead and throw all the clichés and Christianese talk in the world at me. Tell me how much you think my life is cool. How hashtag blessed I am. How the grass is always greener. I will not argue with you. Yet, at the end of the day, I go to bed alone. My eggs are dying. I am starting to feel jaded. I certainly feel duped. At the same time, life does not owe me a damn thing.

So, right now, if I had to pick one, I choose my career. It’s all I’ve got. Christian Mingle can go fuck itself.

*****

Where is God in all your complaining, Leslie?

Listen, I don’t mean to complain. I prefer to think of it as verbal processing. I try to encourage myself with phrases such as, “This, too, shall pass.”

Jesus never said that, by the way. It’s just another cocktail of Christianese to numb the pain.

I’ll take a double, please. Neat.

Here’s what I do believe today:

God is in control. He has never abandoned nor disappointed me. I am not going to live anything less than a full life, even if — or when — I want more. God is like the ultimate chiropractor. If I’m willing, He’ll adjust me so I’m walking straight again.

The two relationships I had post-divorce were real, beautiful and worth every moment, even the breakup grief. I am finally learning you can love someone and let them go. You don’t have to marry every person you love. It’s an amazing concept. I wish I had grasped it years ago.

I’m most likely 100% wrong about not having it all. You can have it all when you surrender your hopes, dreams and desires into the capable, loving hands of God, Himself. He may not give you what you want, when you want it, but He knows what you need. He can change your heart. He can mold your desires. You just have to be pliable.

I don’t think I’m ever going to stop desiring a successful career, a partner in this life to love, honor and cherish me (and I him!) and a family. It’s okay to want those things. Hope (and humor!) is what keeps me going. Even if that day comes and I meet a good man who will choose to lead me on the dance floor of life, I guarantee I’m going to continue to want more (I’ll start with a Grammy, please!).

After all, it’s what makes me endearingly human.