The fullness of now

Summer in Georgia is hot. Like sweltering, sticky, oppressively hot. The kind of hot that makes you imagine you’re a stick of butter melting into a puddle on the pavement. Which is why I find myself sitting in my room, lights off, curtains drawn, air conditioner blaring and fan blowing. 

There’s nothing quite like a Sunday afternoon nap in Georgia. A super cold dark room and some fluffy covers is like heaven when it’s 100 degrees outside. It’s much too hot to go out and do anything, so might as well enjoy just being still for a bit. 

It also gives me an excuse to sit and write, which is not something I’ve done much of this month, and I’ve missed it.
It’s been about a month since I last posted, and things have been going really well. We’ve spent some time at the lake, laid out by the pool, seen a few movies, and done some shopping for my oldest daughter’s apartment. I’m still pretending that she’s not moving out on her own in a couple of weeks. Mama’s. Not. Ready. Oh my heart. 

Overall we’ve had a great month. I did, however, have a couple of days where I struggled a little. Nothing really noticeable to anyone, (except Jeff, as usual). No particular reason, just had a hard time keeping my thoughts focused on the good ones and pushing out the bad ones. It happens occasionally. No major incident, just thoughts of insecurity, doubt, fear… you know, the usual suspects. 

They’re liars and thieves , those three. Really convincing ones. They are especially efficient in their attack. They bombard you with reminders of the past, and then they use that to fill you with fear of what could happen in the future. Because if they can keep you busy flip flopping back and forth from the pain of your yesterdays to the fear of what could happen in your tomorrows, they can very effectively steal today. And that’s all they want. Because your today, your now, is everything. Now is all we ever really have. 

So when you find yourself falling prey to doubt, insecurity, and fear, it’s important to get control of that as quickly as possible. 

To reclaim your now.

I clawed my way out of that fog and was feeling much better. But it seems those thieves wanted one more go at me that night.

We sat on the sofa that evening and decided we would find a new tv series to watch on Netflix. We weren’t sure what to choose. It can be difficult sometimes to find things that we can watch. A lot of the popular series are extremely explicit, and we try to avoid that due to the former porn issue. Some may think that’s silly, but it’s no different than the fact that you wouldn’t set up a fully stocked bar in front of an alcoholic or offer a recovering drug addict a sample of cocaine. They may be able to control it, but why take the risk?

Then there’s all the shows that have affairs as part of the main story line. Sometimes it bothers me and sometimes it doesn’t. It mostly just depends on how similar the details are to mine. 

Anyway, I had heard my sister and some coworkers talking about this series that they loved. They talked about it all the time, and so I suggested maybe we should try that one. 

I really had no idea what it was about, just that it was about this influential family that had all these secrets and that there were all these twists and turns to keep things interesting.

So we get cozy on the couch, start the show, and the scene, the very first scene, was a couple having sex in the back seat of a car. 

Of all the things. 

OF ALL THE THINGS. 

It had to be that. 

It could have started with any other sex scene and I wouldn’t have thought anything about it. I don’t think it was super explicit or even involved much nudity, if any. Actually I’m really not sure if it did or not because I completely checked out. 

I saw 3, maybe 5 seconds of it. 

That’s when my brain did that thing it does and takes me somewhere else. Somewhere that I never actually saw with my own eyes but have seen in my minds eye a million different torturous times. 

I didn’t see the actors on the screen anymore. 

I saw Jeff. With her. 

That’s all I can see. His face, her hair, his hands. And I look away. I can’t look. Make it go away. Make it go away. Please make it go away.

But it doesn’t help because the image isn’t only on the screen. It’s in my head. And I just want it to stop. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to hear it. It was only a few seconds. But it was long enough. Long enough for the panic to set in. For the painful tightening in my chest. For the knot to form in my stomach. For my lungs to forget how to breathe again.  

“Is that what it was like?” I hear myself ask him, realizing that I actually said it out loud and not just in my head.

Another one of those questions that I need to know and yet also do not need to know. 

His face is pained, his hands searching feverishly for the remote. 

I leave the room, busy myself with loading some laundry to try and clear my head and learn to breathe correctly again. 

It happens. 

It kind of stinks that something as simple as watching tv can be so complicated. It kind of stinks that there are a lot of simple things that bring the past to the surface. 

But it is what it is. We deal with it, and we move on. 

A few days ago, I made the executive decision to watch the show anyway. 

It was just an unfortunate coincidence that it started with that particular scene. 

We just skipped to the next scene and started there. 

We have to live our lives, regardless of the triggers. I do my best to avoid them. The ones that I can’t avoid, I deal with the best that I can. Thankfully, there have been very few this year that affected me that way. 

I’ve gotten pretty good at controlling the thoughts. 

I can’t say that I’ve gone a whole day yet that I haven’t had some kind of thoughts about the affair. I guess I’m not sure that will ever happen. 

But it rarely affects my now. There’s more of a separation. The thoughts are there. But the pain attached to them is not as overpowering as it once was on a daily basis anyway. 

The goodness of my now has gotten bigger than the pain of my past. 

And I like to imagine that it will continue to get bigger, so much so that the panic stops even with the bigger triggers at some point.

Those few minutes were tough. They took me back to a very painful time. And it can be overwhelming. 

But it was only a few minutes. I’ve had a million other great minutes.  

And all I have to do is remember that the panic, the pain, those things are not my now. 

My now is full of goodness.                                    My now is full of joy.                                               My now is simply….full. 
❤️                                                                             Amy Thurston Gordy

A whole other blog for a whole other day.

So this is a subject that I’ve touched on in the past here and there, and made mention of from time to time. But I’d always include a quick reference or a few sentences, only to follow with: “but that’s a whole other blog for a whole other day.” I just haven’t really been able to bring myself to write about it, or to share in detail this part of my story. So I’ve put it off. Mainly I’ve just told myself, “you can’t write about this yet, because you haven’t figured it out yet. Not all of it anyway.” And I really, really like things to be neat and tidy. A nice little package that I can present. Something that even though it may start out ugly and messy and chaotic, I can eventually make some sense out of and give some order and hopefully help not just myself but others in the process.
Which is why sometimes I find it very ironic that this situation, these circumstances were the path life gave me. Because there is absolutely nothing neat or sensical or orderly about infidelity, betrayal, or the process you go through to heal from it. 

Yet somehow, we’ve found our way. And I wish I could tell you there was a trick. A specific way to survive it. While there is a long list of things I can and have shared with you that you could and should do that will help you tremendously in your recovery and rebuilding of your life, no matter the circumstance, there’s one basic thing that it comes down to. 

Keep moving. One foot in front of the other.    One NEW day at a time. 

It’s worked to get us through everything else, and so I have to believe that it will help me find my way to a better place with this too. 

So, for as long as I’ve put this off, I’ve decided putting it off just serves to keep me stuck. The only way to work through it is to work through it. I can choose to be complacent and say that I’ll never be able to figure this out and stay stuck, or I can keep moving, keep pushing forward and find a fullness in the redemption of our story that I know we haven’t begun to touch yet. As good as we are, I can’t shake this feeling that there’s so much more, something so much bigger that we haven’t even imagined. 

So that whole other day is today I guess. Might as well go ahead and dive on in. One foot in front of the other right? 

The subject I’m talking about is forgiveness. It’s something I never had to give much thought to before. No one had ever truly hurt me. Not in a big way anyway. But this. This was betrayal on another level. That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. Not the little stuff, but the life changing, selfish, cruel, and deceitful kind of transgressions.

And when you’re faced with that kind of pain, those kinds of scars, and especially when you’re faced with someone that is seemingly unapologetic for the damage they have done; you suddenly realize that forgiveness doesn’t make sense. You wonder what forgiveness truly means. What it actually looks like. And mostly you wonder what it’s supposed to feel like. And how to know when it’s real, and not just empty words said because you know it’s the right thing to do. Especially when you can’t even think the words without still feeling the contempt rise up within you. How do you find a way to truly mean it and not have those feelings of resentment and anger?                                                                     How do you move past wanting to be able to say you forgive someone, but also still having an overwhelming desire to punch them in the face? 

Forgiveness is something that in one case, such as someone like my husband that is so incredibly sorry, though it didn’t happen overnight is almost easy now, and allows me to have a relationship and a future that would have otherwise been impossible. 
Yet in another; the case of forgiveness of someone that offers no apology, someone that gives no indication that they regret causing you pain, like the woman he had the affair with, brings me anxiety, frustration, anger ,and resentment. 

People tend to oversimplify it. They say “The bible says you have to forgive, so you just have to do it.” Or they say, “just keep saying it until you mean it.” Which is not actually terrible advice, there’s some real truth and power in speaking things not as they are but as you want them to be. But also… man, that can take a really long time. I mean, I’ve tried this method off and on for nearly 2 years now, and I’m still not feeling it. But I do agree that it’s a good place to start. It’s the getting to the place where you actually mean it, the place where you can actually wish them well, the place where you are able to see them with some semblance of compassion instead of hatred, that I’ve struggled with. 
So what DO I know about forgiveness? 
Nothing about forgiveness is easy. 

Forgiveness is costly. While it is freely given, it is most certainly not free, not for the one doing the forgiving anyway. 

However, not forgiving is also costly.

Forgiveness always includes sacrifice. 

Forgiveness is precious. 

Forgiveness brings freedom. 

Forgiveness is a process.

Forgiveness is a continual choice.

Forgiveness is not just a gift to the offender, but a gift to yourself.  

Forgiveness is not always deserved, but always necessary. …. I think.                                               Ok, ok. I know it is. But this is one of the thought processes that I struggle with. I think to myself, “do I really HAVE to forgive her?” 

And the answer is honestly a resounding “NO”. I absolutely don’t have to. There is always a choice. I can choose not to. And a really big part of me doesn’t want to. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t want my forgiveness. And I mostly imagine that she certainly doesn’t deserve it. Mostly because she hasn’t asked for it. So why should I forgive her? 

It’s pretty easy to just choose not to forgive. Sooo much easier than doing the work to try to figure out a way to forgive and mean it. So yes, I could definitely choose not to forgive her. 
But does that choice bring anything good to my life? The answer to that is also a resounding “NO”. 

I want the good stuff in my life, and to get that, I have to choose the stuff that brings the goodness. 

So true forgiveness is a mystery that I will continue to intentionally pursue, an understanding that I do not have in full yet, but I choose to believe that through this process, I will find it. 
I say that, having no idea even what the process is really going to look like, but just stepping forward with God’s promise that says “seek and you shall find.” And one of my favorites, Jeremiah 33:3, “Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.”

How to truly forgive someone that doesn’t seem to be sorry definitely falls into the category of a great and mighty thing that I do not know. 
Also I believe there’s a great and mighty thing that he is working in our lives, the fullness of which we do not know yet, so that verse speaks to my soul in many different ways. 
And seeing as how I’ve taken you all with me through everything else, I’m going to bring you along for this too. The good the bad and the ugly, that’s what I have said I would share from the beginning, and I’m pretty sure this subject is going to cover all three of those adjectives. With everything else, writing about it has seemed to help me work through it and find what I’m looking for, or to see things in a different light, or at the very least help me come to terms with it, and I’m hopeful that will be the case with this too. 
To be continued…

❤️                                                                             Amy Thurston Gordy 

Oh, sciatica. 

How is it April already? This year is flying by! I’ve been missing in action on the blog here for a little bit. It wasn’t really an intentional break from writing, but between house stuff and a health issue, March was a bit challenging for me. 

The next step in our home renovations was to tear out the carpet in the bedrooms and replace it with hardwood floors. So over the weekends in March, we did one room at a time, and painted the walls and trim in each room as we went. There was so much stuff piled into my living room , it looked like a hoarder lived there. SO stressful! It also involved A WHOLE LOT of moving furniture in and out of rooms, and at some point during room # 2, I woke up with intense pain and muscle cramps from my lower back all the way down my right leg to my foot. 

I think the issue really started when I helped move the old oven out and the new oven up the stairs and into the house a couple months ago. I had been having some lower back stiffness since then, but nothing I paid much attention to. I think moving all the furniture around and the painting may have pushed it over the edge. 

The pain was nearly incapacitating for the first few days. Sitting was uncomfortable. Laying down was pretty much excruciating, so sleep was not something I was getting much of, and driving would literally bring me to tears. 

Sciatica is the devil. The devil, I tell ya. 

I made a couple of trips to the chiropractor, even though the thought of all that scary sounding bone popping absolutely terrified me. Especially that neck thing they do…that gives me the heebie jeebies! But at that point I was willing to try anything that might make me feel comfortable enough to just be able to get a few minutes of sleep. Unfortunately it didn’t seem to be helping. So I made a visit to the doctor, and they gave me steroids and anti inflammatories. I had to get a shot, so Jeff insisted that I have this ice cream on the way home. 😊


The meds thankfully got me well enough that the pain was more tolerable. I had X-rays and an MRI, and the diagnosis was a bulging disc at L5-S1. 

I walked with a limp due to a mixture of the muscle soreness and the loss of sensation in a portion of my foot, and spent the majority of each day on my feet, unable to relax, because the pain sitting or laying was almost too much to bear. It was exhausting.

But despite the pain and a very serious lack of sleep, I have found so much to be thankful for over these last few weeks. 
-I didn’t have to stay out of work. 
-My sisters. They checked on me all the time, and one of them brought me her tens unit. That thing felt like a million little bees stinging me but in an oddly good way. Those things really do help with back pain. 

-I had sweet friends and family members that gave me meds and creams to help with with the muscle spasms.

-One precious friend that was a former teacher at my kids elementary school insisted on bringing us a dinner of chicken salad, fresh bread, broccoli cheese soup, and also the most delicious muffins you’ve ever had in your life.💗 This was just so, so thoughtful and sweet.

-I got so many messages from friends telling me about their own experiences with sciatica, giving me tips on stretches and exercises and also giving me hope that it does go away! 

-My Mom sent over a heating pad, a back brace, and food. Really good food like fried chicken and barbecue pork. Oh and M&M’s. Let us not forget the goodness of the M&M’s! 

– My Daddy delivered the food, and said the sweetest prayer for healing over me before he left. There’s not much sweeter in this world than the heartfelt prayers of a parent for one of their children. Especially my parents. If you’ve ever met them, then you know they are precious. Just the best of the best. 

-My MRI cost me a lot less than I was expecting. 

– I’m getting better. The limp is pretty much gone. The numbness in my foot is going away. The muscle spasms are few and far between. I can sit pain free most of the time. Driving doesn’t make me want to cry anymore, and most importantly, I am able to sleep. 

– I put myself on a no bread, no sugar, no fun anti-inflammatory diet last week (ok, so maybe I still have a little caramel creamer in my coffee in the morning. Don’t judge. Ha. I gave up bread and chips y’all. That’s huge for me. So I’m cutting myself a little slack for this tiny daily cheat!) and as an added bonus, I’ve lost 6 pounds this week. 

-My floors look amazing.

Seriously, just look at them. Jeff did good!


-And last, but certainly not least, I have an amazing husband that takes care of me so, so well. 
He single-handedly finished out the floors and took over my painting of the walls and trim. He moved all the furniture back in the rooms, and cleaned up all the mess. He also has done the majority of the house cleaning. He sat with me through my Doctor’s appointments. He rubbed my leg and foot every night to help with the muscle cramps. He brought me my meds and propped pillows under my legs and drove Anna Kate wherever she needed to go whenever he could so I could rest and so I wouldn’t have to drive. He made my coffee and fixed my lunches. All of this on top of working every day and being on call. And he did every bit of it with a happy heart and a sweet smile. 
I looked at him the other day and said, “you are a good, good husband.”
I don’t take saying that lightly, given where we were two years ago. 

And neither does he. 

It’s kind of a big deal. Huge, actually. That I can look at the man that shattered my heart and our lives into a million little jagged pieces, and say that to him, and mean it. Like really mean it. 

I took him back believing for something better. Hoping for something better. In our relationship, and in him as a person, and in every aspect of our lives. And I wasn’t sure about it. I wasn’t sure it was possible. Any of it. But I chose to believe that it could be. 
And every day, I’m continually amazed at how good our life is. 
He’s a good, good God.                 And Jeff is a good, good husband. 

Psalm 107:1
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! His faithful love endures forever.


Amy Thurston Gordy

 

What do you see?

I love going to the movies. And most of y’all have gotten to know me enough now to know that the popcorn and a big cold Coca Cola are a big part of my love for the movie theatre. Everything I do somehow manages to involve food or snacks. Is it just me or does the movie theatre Coke actually taste better than when you get them other places? We went to the movies several times these last few weeks.            

I like all different kinds of movies. Romance, comedy, suspense, sci-fi, I like them all. But occasionally, a movie comes along that really speaks to you. The movie we saw this week was one of those movies for me. Collateral Beauty starring Will Smith. It’s a very heavy movie about a man that loses his child to cancer, and in the aftermath of that tragedy, he loses his will to engage in life. 

I loved this movie. It received terrible reviews from the movie critics, which makes no sense to me. I rarely agree with movie critics anyway I guess. In my opinion, Will Smith’s portrayal of grief was nothing short of Oscar worthy. If they would let me vote, he’d get mine. 

I felt a connection to the message of this movie. Not on the level of what it’s like to lose a child, because I’ve never experienced that and can only imagine the pain that brings. 
But I do understand grief. I understand wanting something back that you can never get back. I understand struggling to accept your new existence. I understand what it’s like to lose a piece of yourself, and know that you will never be the same again. I understand the feeling of wanting to disengage, to disconnect from reality because this new reality feels like a prison sentence that you can’t escape. And I know what it’s like to finally see the hope. To finally see the goodness. 

In the beginning of the movie before the loss of his daughter, he makes a speech to his employees. 

“What is your why? Why do you get up? Why do you do what you do? We are here to connect.            Life is about people.                     Love, time and death. These three abstractions connect every human being. We all long for love, we wish we had more time, and we fear death.”

After the death of his daughter, he is filled with grief and anger, and he writes letters. One to Love, one to Time, and one to Death. 
And one by one they appear and address his perceptions of them and how they have each ruined his life. 

Death comes first and she says to him:  “Nothing is ever really gone, if you look at it right.”
What did she mean by that? I think several things. Maybe that the spirit lives on. That existence is eternal. And maybe that whatever or whoever you’ve lost, helped shape who you are, who you’re becoming, and so in that way, those people and/or things that you lost are always a part of you. 
Then Time says to him: “You are so angry with me, but I’m the one that should be angry with you. I am a gift and you are wasting it! If love is creation and death is destruction, I’m just the terrain in between.”
My take on that is that life is not a series of things that happen to you. Life simply is. Time doesn’t bring destruction nor does it bring healing or joy. It is simply terrain that we must travel through and it’s the way we choose to travel through that terrain and engage in life that decides how much healing and how much joy we have. Time is a gift, and it’s up to us to decide what we will do with it.
And then there was Love. 
Love said to him: “I am the fabric of life. I’m the reason for everything. You ask people what is their why. I am the ONLY why. Don’t try and live without me.”

He replied: “I felt you everyday when she laughed and you broke my heart!”

And Love replied: “Yes, I was there in her laugh, but I’m also here now in your pain.”

And this, this line is maybe one of the greatest truths in the message of the movie. 
Love didn’t fail him. Love didn’t disappoint him. People and circumstances, they can break your heart, but not love. Love didn’t break his heart. Love never fails. Real love is constant and unfailing. Real Love is God and He is always there. In all the good stuff, and also in our very worst pain.
 The tag line of the movie is “Be sure to notice the collateral beauty.”

The message I took from the movie is this: that no matter what life throws at us, no matter how bad the circumstances or how agonizing the pain, there is beauty in it. You just have to choose to look for it. To look for the goodness. That thing that happened wasn’t good. It was awful. But there is goodness all around you. And when you finally choose to see it, when you finally accept that love really is the only why that matters, and that God is there with you through it all, it is then that you can begin to live again. 

My story is ugly and awful and filed with heartache. But it’s also filled with goodness. 
With collateral beauty. 

Everyone eventually has their own unique story of loss, of destruction, of heartache. And eventually you all have to make a choice. Will you focus on the pain, or will you choose to see the collateral beauty?

Amy Thurston Gordy

Dear 2016

One year. One year ago today, just before midnight on New Years Eve I wrote my first blog, “Dear 2015”. 

For those of you that didn’t follow me in the beginning or haven’t read back through, it was about a small tree at High Falls State Park that had been battered by a recent torrential storm. 


High Falls was not a place I wanted to hear about or be reminded of. It was a place I spent a good bit of time in as a child, and had fond memories of. Memories of family picnics, playing on the rocks, walking the trails. Watching the majestic power of the waterfall that looked so much larger and higher from my childhood eyes. But those memories were not what came to mind when I heard or saw the words High Falls anymore, because now the only thing I thought of is that it was one of the meeting spots during Jeff’s affair. An out of the way, unlikely to be discovered, almost perfectly halfway point between our home and hers where they met to betray the people that loved them. 

But there was something about the photo of the tree that drew me in and spoke to me. Here is an excerpt from that very first post:
-My brother posted a video this week. It was of a single small tree, in the rushing flood waters of High Falls. Storm waters raging all around it, the tree is whipping around in every direction. Yet, it hangs on. Still standing though the world is in chaos around it, and its branches are bending and heavy with the force of the storm swirling around it.

In my mind I picture there are stones in the ground surrounding that little tree. I imagine its roots, weaved around those rocks, anchoring the tree in the ground so that no matter what comes, it is able to weather the storm. And when those flood waters clear, it stands firm. Resilient and strong.
Adam’s quote on that video was simply, “Be the tree.” The fact that the video was taken at High Falls is no small detail, and is not lost on me. Those of you that know the details of my story know that it’s on the list of places that trigger painful thoughts and anxiety for me. But I saw that video and I knew it was for me. 
I AM the tree.

2015 brought a storm of destruction that threatened everything I knew to be true about my life. But like that tree, my roots are wrapped around the Rock. And all of those stones that hold me in place, those stones are all of you. My unwavering, amazing and beautiful support system. Rooted in Christ, and surrounded by all the people He has placed in my life. And now that the storm has passed and the world becomes a little more peaceful and the flood waters recede, I will stand just as that tree does. My branches stronger from facing the resistance of adversity. All that water meant for my destruction, instead being used to create new growth, and causing my branches to bloom into something beautiful.
So goodbye 2015. You meant to destroy me, to steal my joy. You gave it your best shot. But you. do. not. win.
I’m looking forward to sunshine and happiness in 2016. May it bring us all a year filled with countless blessings and most of all, an abundance of joy.-

When I wrote that, I didn’t know I was writing it for a blog. I really didn’t know why I was writing it at all. I just felt compelled to put the pen to paper and write. And I quickly found that it was like therapy for me. And I remembered how much I loved it, writing. And then I felt compelled to post it. Which was so out of character for my very introverted, private self. But I felt like God was telling me to post it, and so, just seconds before the clock struck midnight, I pressed that publish button and bid a formal goodbye to 2015. 
Little did I know what that one small act of pressing that button would put into motion for me. That it would usher in a whole new existence, a whole new outlook, a whole new beginning for me. And I certainly never expected that I would be bringing thousands of people all over the world along for the ride. In my mind, I thought that probably my family would read it. A few facebook friends. I never imagined how far it would go. I mean, seriously, this still blows my mind every time I see it. 

And here we are, one year later. It’s been an emotional year full of goodness, hard work, trial and error, setbacks and triumphs. And you all have been there with me through every last bit of it.
So tonight, I share with you my letter to 2016:

Dear 2016,
To say we’ve been through a lot together would be an understatement. While 2015 came swinging for me, bringing its wrecking ball crashing through my life….you, you were different. 
You were more like a steady hand. 
Guiding me as gently as possible as I recovered from the battering injuries I’d sustained in my storm. 
In many ways, it was a tough year, but not in the same ways as 2015. We had a lot of pain to face. A lot of fears to face. A lot of grief to work through. And it was no easy task. It was hard, gut wrenching, soul cleansing work. Sometimes I wasn’t sure we could do it. Sometimes it felt impossible. Sometimes we would take several steps upward only to stumble and go tumbling halfway to the bottom again. It was work. It was at times excruciating. It was hard. It was exhausting. And it was incredibly painful. 
But every time I would fall, I’d lift my eyes upward. I’d see the good stuff ahead. I’d look to the promises, “Behold, I make all things new”, and “you intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good.” And I picked myself back up, and kept pushing on. And so along with all the hard stuff, it was also rewarding, joyful, encouraging, expectant, propelling, and life giving.  
You brought me healing. You brought me strength. You brought me courage. You brought me hope. 

You brought me love.                    The real kind.                                                    

You brought me joy, and you brought me redemption.

You reminded me of who I am.  Not who people thought I was.  Not who others had come to expect me to be. 

Not even the person I’d confined myself to be. 

But Who I really am.        

You brought out the gifts within me. And the courage to use them.

You taught me that fear is an illusion. An illusion meant to keep us stuck where we are. Never growing, never reaching beyond our walls. 

You taught me that God goes ahead of us no matter where life takes us. 

You taught me how to not be afraid anymore. 

I look back on this year and see how much has happened, and how my life has changed. My relationship with my husband is so much better than it’s ever been. My friendships are stronger, and my social circle has grown to include some very special people all over the world that I never would have known had I not gone through my storm. We’ve seen blessings professionally and financially. Our children are healthy and happy and thriving and it is such a blessing to watch them unfold into the beautiful, strong, bright young women that God made them to be. 

And I have this blog. A place to purge my pain, to shed my heartache, to proclaim His goodness and to declare our victories. A place to use my gifts, and to do what I’m passionate about. A place to share hope. A place to connect with all of you. 

So 2016, to you, I say thank you. 
Thank you for ushering in the afternoon of my life. Thank you for being the place where I learned to focus on the good. Thank you for making me do the hard work and for making me face my fears and for launching me on the path to becoming the woman God intended me to be. 
I said it a year ago and it still rings true today. 

I AM the tree. 



The storm came and it beat me down, it battered me until parts of me were so very broken. It’s wind and rain took my breath away until I felt like I would suffocate. It left me drowning in my heartache. It came to bring death and destruction. But my roots held firm. The storm came to steal everything good from me. But instead of washing all the goodness away, it took the dead leaves on my branches, and the stagnant earth around my trunk, and washed away everything unusable. It washed away everything that had no place in the life God intended for me. And it made way for fresh soil. And the winds calmed and the torrential downpour subsided and the sun broke through, and then the showers of blessings poured out to bring new growth. To bring me a new life. 

The storm came to shake me to my core. And now, my roots are even deeper and stronger. My trunk more solid and steady. My branches, expanding, growing, reaching towards the sun. And I think I’m even starting to see some blooms. Maybe, even putting out a little fruit. 

Isaiah 61:3
To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory.

God took what was meant for my destruction, for the destruction of my family, and He brought goodness out of it. 

Psalm 91:14-16.                               The Lord says, “I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call on me, I will answer; I will be with them in trouble.I will rescue and honor them.I will reward them with a long life and give them my salvation.”

It’s not quite here yet, but I think I’ll go ahead and get a head start on my letter to 2017. 

So Dear 2017, 

This year, you aren’t coming for me. The tables are turning and        I am coming for you. And I believe that you are filled with opportunity. I believe that you have so much goodness for me, for my family, and for everyone we come into contact with. And I plan to find every single ounce of it.

As we move forward, this is our focus:
The goodness. 
The grace.
And the gifts. 
I am so grateful for the way God has paved our path with these three things. We still have more work to do. More healing to do. And more growing to do. 
But I look forward to walking through it and finding more of God’s goodness, more of His grace, and more of His gifts. 

Psalm 1:3
He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, Which yields its fruit in its season And its leaf does not wither; And in whatever he does, he prospers.

I am thankful for each and every one of you. For the way you have followed my blog and our journey. For the love and the support you’ve given us. For giving me this outlet to share my story. You are a gift.

 I think I still have so many more stories to tell, so I hope you’ll continue to stick around, and follow as they unfold.

I wish you all good things in 2017. May it bring you goodness. May it bring you joy. May it bring you more blessings than you can contain. May it propel you to become everything God intended YOU to be. 

And may you also Be the tree. 
Happy New Year.


Amy Thurston Gordy

RSVP: Which box will you check? 

Christmas felt like it kind of snuck up on me this year. Is it just me or does it feel like time goes faster these days? We have had a great Christmas spent with family, and filled with great food and lots of fun.

Oh, and one magical trip to Disney World, which I will share about in another blog in the next few days, so stay tuned for that. I hope you all have had a wonderful holiday season filled with all things good.

The past few weeks have been eventful for me. Life changing even.
I made mention in my last few posts that God was repeatedly calling me out of my comfort zone this year.

First, with deciding to give my broken marriage another chance. Then, with sharing my life with the world in this blog.

Then with public speaking.

And then…

I quit my job.
It still feels weird to say it.
But I’d been feeling the pull for a while now. I knew the time was coming. And although I knew in my heart it was what God was leading me to do, it was still a little scary. And bittersweet.

I’d been there for over 20 years. I started there at the age of 17. Moved away when Jeff joined the military and then went back to work there when we came home several years later.

I’ve spent basically my entire adult life with these people. They’re my people. They’re my family, and it was with a combination of a heavy heart and a hopeful and expectant spirit that I left them.

So with complete trust that what He had planned for me was good, I have taken several big steps out of my comfort zones this year.
Outside of the walls I’d built around myself, around my life.

And each time , I’ve found goodness waiting for me there.

There is goodness in my marriage and in the person Jeff has become.
There is goodness in this blog and in the people all over the world that read it and find hope in it.
There is goodness in overcoming my fear of public speaking and in the opportunity to share what God has done in our lives.
And there is goodness in the new job I will start in the new year, where I will not only get to work with my sisters, but with a whole group of people that I already know and love.
Sometimes, the comfort zone is exactly where we are supposed to be. But the time may come where you’ll hear Him telling you that it’s time for a change.
We all fear change. And we all get into routines, and fall into this illusion that things will always be this way. And we get comfortable. And if we aren’t really careful, and really paying attention, we can become so accustomed and contented with where we are and how things are that we become complacent.
And so when opportunities arise, we ignore them. Because we are pretty comfy where we are. Because we feel safe where we are.

Happy? Sure.

Sure we are happy. Because we are comfortable, right? Because it’s scary to do things differently than what you’re used to. So we stay in our comfy little comfort zones, but we hear that still small voice whispering , “There’s more. There’s so much more. Step out here into the water and see the wonders beyond your walls.”

But we ignore it.

Because we are scared.

Because although we may not be completely fulfilled where we are, at least we know what to expect if we stay here.

But out there… what if we make the wrong decision? What if we take the wrong path?
I get it. I really, really get it.
But I’ve learned a few things this year.
First, one day, life WILL kick you swiftly and surely out of that comfort zone in one way or another. Because stuff happens.
Like it or not, change is inevitable.

And the truth is, even when the change that comes is bad, it’s important. And it’s even beneficial. Because change brings growth. And growth brings fruit. And the fruit it produces is where the good stuff is found.

Second, wherever life kicks you, God is already there to catch you.

He’s. Already. There.

And He isn’t scrambling to figure out how to fix your big mess. He’s already gone before you and made a way. All you have to do is keep your eyes on Him and follow.

And third, sometimes life doesn’t kick you out of your comfort zone, but instead, God INVITES you out of your comfort zone.
And as with any invitation , you have a choice to make.

You can RSVP yes, or you can RSVP no.
Yep, you can say no to God. You sure can. And you can stay right there. Right where you are. And things may stay the same. You’ll continue to wake up, go about your life, do all the same things you have always done. And life will be good. It will be just fine.
It will be exactly what it always was. Maybe not extraordinary. But good. And you’ll be comfy. You’ll never know what’s outside those walls. You’ll never know what you might be missing. But that’s ok. If that’s what you decide to choose.

Or you can say yes.
And let’s just be honest. Even though you’ve chosen to accept the invitation, you will wake up, freak the freak out for a bit and question if you are making the right choices or if you’ve absolutely LOST YOUR EVER LOVING MIND.

But then, you’ll remember that tug on your heart. That whisper in your spirit.
“Follow me. I’ll show you the way.”

And then watch the goodness unfold. Watch Him bring things into your life that you never imagined. Watch Him turn your mess into a miracle. Watch Him pour out blessings over you.
Watch your life become something extraordinary.

I’ve returned my RSVP.

I want to see the wonders that exist beyond my walls.

Which box will you check?
Amy Thurston Gordy

Happy Anniversary

December 7th 1991. I was 17 and a half years old. So young. Too young. And no, we didn’t have to get married. But he had joined the military, and was going to be 3000 miles away, and I couldn’t imagine not going with him. I loved him.

I couldn’t get out of bed. My body ached. When I would try to get up I’d lay right back down, because I just felt so heavy. Get up Amy. You have to get up. It’s your wedding day.
Something was wrong.

My face is so hot. I’m dizzy. I can’t make it across the room without having to sit down.

My parents called their sweet friend and probably one of the most interesting people in the world, Dr. Slade, and he said to bring me right over.

A few minutes later, I’m sitting on his exam table and he is telling me, “You have the flu. I’m sorry but I don’t think there’s going to be a wedding today. You’re very sick.”

The flu. On my wedding day? Of all the days?

No. Flu or no flu, it’s too late to cancel this wedding. I’m getting married today.

And so I pulled myself together, put on my huge white dress,(it was 1991 after all.. the dress AND the hair HAD to be huge!) and I got married. With a fever of 102.

To look at me you would never had known it. I made it through the ceremony, and the reception. Right up until it was time to feed each other the cake and drink the punch. Suddenly, it hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m pale as a ghost. I look at Jeff and say I think it’s time for us to go.

So we get in the limo, and make it about a mile when I look at the driver and say..”Home! I need you to get me home now!”

The nausea had set in.

We pull up, and I jump from the car trying to unbutton the dress, screaming “get it off of me, I don’t want to ruin the dress!”

And so instead of heading off to our planned Honeymoon at Disney World, I spent the night in misery, while poor Jeff spent our first night as husband and wife holding my hair back when I’d get sick and wiping my face down with cold cloths to try and bring my fever down.

It was not the wedding day and night we had dreamed of. But seeing him take care of me so selflessly, never complaining, just being so tender and sweet, I knew why I married him.

That was 25 years ago.

Over those 25 years, things weren’t always that tender and sweet. We had some rough patches, for sure. But divorce was never an option. Except for that one time last year when it was.

But I decided not to take that option.

And so we’ve spent the last year not restoring our marriage, but rebuilding it. From the ground up.

We pressed through the hardest year of our lives. We pressed in with God. We let the people surrounding us build us up and we leaned on them when we couldn’t carry this load ourselves.

And today, we have a marriage that’s so much better than we had before. We had to walk through what sometimes felt like literal hell on earth to get to where we are. But I can look back now and say that I am truly so thankful. Not that he had an affair. But for all the goodness God has brought us from the most awful situation. For the sweetness of His presence. For the way He went before us and set in place every person and every thing we would need to get us through it. For the way He has made every ounce of pain and every single tear count for His kingdom. For the opportunity to share His infinite goodness with the world. For the amazing husband and man that Jeff has become. For the opportunities and blessings that He has poured out and continues to pour out on us.

For the family and friends that stuck by us through it all, and the new friends that we never would have known if none of this had happened.

Last year, I had just decided to let him move home and see if we could make this work not long before our anniversary and I was still in so much pain. I really didn’t want to celebrate our anniversary. How could I celebrate a day that represented the day we took our vows, the ones he broke? Did all those years really even count anymore?

But this year, this year was different. This year I was excited. And we had a great anniversary date last weekend.


And today I came home and found my house clean and this beautiful gift waiting for me on the table.


Then tonight I got to share my heart and our story at our Wednesday night church service. I’m so grateful that he is ok with being so transparent and supportive in sharing our story. It’s not a story he’s particularly proud of his part in and hearing me tell it is not easy for him. I do not take his willingness to be so open with it for granted.
For all intensive purposes, we shouldn’t have an anniversary to celebrate anymore. But here we are. A year later. And we survived. We not only survived but we have so much more. More of everything. More of all the good stuff. More goodness than I ever could have imagined. I was certain a year ago that I’d never be able to look at Jeff and not see what he had done to me. What he had done to us.

But today, I look at him and I don’t see what he did anymore. I look at him and I don’t see her anymore. I look at him and I don’t see the pain anymore.

When I look at him now, I see goodness. I see the goodness inside of him. I see the way he looks at me now. I see the way he loves me with his whole heart. I see the beautiful transparency of his heart. I see the way he looks for the good in everyone. I see his desire to be the man God says he is.

This year, my heart is full. Full of love. Full of joy. Full of gratitude.

Happy Anniversary, Jeff. I’m thankful for you, for the man you are becoming, for the way you love me so well, for second chances and new beginnings. And I can’t wait to see all the goodness in store for us in the years to come. ❤️
Amy Thurston Gordy