Dear 2020, oh who am I kidding, you were anything but a dear.

As I’ve pondered what to say in this years annual installment of my letters to the previous year, I find myself not even sure what to say. So many events, so many situations, conversations, conflicts, emotions… it seems impossible that all these things have actually spanned just one solitary year. Somehow it feels like my last “Dear 20__” post was more like ten years ago instead of just one.

I went back and read through last years post, and it felt like another lifetime. One full of trips and plans and looking ahead to the things we expected to come. I posted that we had survived the year despite having some of the worst arguments in our five year post affair history. Little did I know those were small potatoes compared to the ones we were gonna have in 2020.

2020 came swinging for us much like 2015 did, just in different ways. And it very nearly took my marriage out. There was no infidelity this time around, but we found ourselves at constant odds. I’m not at all proud of the number of times the word divorce came up over the course of the year. And when our youngest daughter, the one who was devastated at even the possibility of it five years ago, the one that would say to me back then, “Mama, Daddy is so sad and he said he’s sorry so why won’t you let him come home?” … When she looked at both of us a couple of months ago and said, “ oh my gosh, would y’all please just get a divorce already!” It’s then that we knew that things were really really bad and we were reaching a breaking point and something had to give. Honestly, at that point I wasn’t even exactly sure how we ended up back in such a bad place , though I knew some of the core issues that got us there. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry. Angry that God somehow brought us through all of the things he did to have us disintegrate over what pretty much boiled down to differing politics and world views. If 2020 did one thing for everyone, it was this: it burned off all the outer layers, sifting and refining and exposing what was in our hearts. What was at the core of us. The things we believed in, and the hills we were willing to die on. And it was no respecter of persons, it came for us all.

And it left me questioning my decisions over the past 5 years, wondering if we had made the wrong one and wasted 5 years and for what? Had we found redemption, and shared the hope of that with thousands of people only to have that come crashing down in a pile of disappointment and regret? And if so, what had been the point, and why had God allowed us to take this path only to find more heartache? And should I even be blaming God at all, or did we truly just have ourselves to blame?

We were basically both at our wits end, struggling to find any common ground, or any path back to loving each other well. Looking at each other saying, “How do we fix this?”, and neither really knowing what to do next.

And in that moment I realized, we both needed a reminder of where we came from. What we had overcome. What we had almost lost five years ago and the lengths we went to to fight our way back and build something good. So then I pulled out the big guns. I went into our room and I dug out the daily journal Jeff’s life coach had him keep while we were separated, and I read it, and then I walked into our living room, and I told Jeff that I was going to ask him to do this one last ditch effort for me…for us, and read that journal from the first entry to the last, and that if after reading it, he saw no way back to that, and truly thought our future was better spent apart, that I would go ahead and file for divorce, knowing that we had tried our best. I knew that the only way I know to fix this, was to go back to our darkest, hardest days. To remember the pain and then the clarity and then the hope and the willingness to do all the hard things to glue our family back together. I knew that if reading that, and revisiting those feelings didn’t change our hearts on the matter, nothing would.

And that was the turning point. It was exactly the reminder and the swift kick in the gut we both needed to put our focus back on the things that really matter. We still live on completely opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to things like politics and soo many other topics. But when it comes down to it, what we can agree on is that our family, people, and love are what truly matters. So we agree to disagree on the rest. We try extra hard to keep from getting in heated discussions of our opinions on ALL the hot topics, and focus on the good things. And apparently that old adage is true, opposites truly do attract. 😂

Its been a tough year for all of us. Emily struggled her way through quarantine, some really difficult online classes and facing some life changing personal revelations.

Kate went off to college excited about the college life and all the fun things that normally entails only to end up stuck in her dorm room and having an experience that was absolutely nothing like what she had envisioned.

But Emily absolutely aced all her classes, (she always does) and faced some really hard things with bravery. And Kate left college and came home and started herself a small online business. So we were empty nesters all of about two whole months 😂

And that’s ok. Because I could not be prouder of the way they navigated this year and all of its unexpected curveballs, and it makes this Mama’s heart happy to see them both chasing after their best life and their true selves.

I started out this year thinking I would do so much writing, but ended up writing less than in any of the past five years. I thought about that book that is halfway written, knowing I couldn’t write another word in it because I suddenly and unexpectedly had absolutely no idea anymore how our story was gonna play out. And as far as this blog goes, I waffled this whole year back and forth somewhere in between having absolutely NO words to having SO,SO many words, and struggling with which words I truly wanted to share with the world. Or I should say, which words I SHOULD share with the world. So, I’m sorry for my obvious absence from this platform. But know that I’ve spent this time away , sometimes intentionally and sometimes unintentionally growing, learning, sharpening, reflecting, deconstructing, rebuilding and no doubt preparing my heart and mind for the words God would have me share in the future. I am not done here yet, of that I am sure. Writing is a part of very my soul, and no matter how long I may avoid it, I am always drawn back to it, and the way it soothes my weary or anxious soul.

2020 has changed us all. It took so much from all of us, but I believe over time , we will see the necessary ways in which it brought about change and that it also gave us more than we realize or can even see yet.

So, 2020, it’s been real. And unreal. It’s been literally a roller coaster of ALL the things. And to be quite honest, we are all done with you. DONE.

If we take nothing else good from this year, I hope it is this. Be grateful. For every good thing. The big ones, the small ones, the exciting moments and the quiet ones. For the people that we love. For the people in the world doing good. For food. For shelter. For family and friends. For our sweet fur babies. For every moment we have with every person we love. For the moments of joy between the moments of loss. For the hope of tomorrow. For the promise that for every long dark night, the light of morning always, always comes.

Dear 2021,

We are weary. We are tired. We are frustrated and we are sad.

But we are also full of hope.

So be good to us.

What is my resolution for 2021?

To do all the things that need to be done and to encourage as many people as I can to do all the things that need to be done to make it possible for me to go sit in my Mama’s kitchen again. To smell the bacon my Dad would most certainly happily fry up for me, and to eat all my Mama’s snacks while listening to her tell a story that tickles her so very much she can barely get the words out for laughing so hard.

I want to plan trips with them and stand closer than 6 feet away and hug them when I arrive and when I leave. I want my nurse husband and my nurse sister in laws and all of their coworkers to not be overwhelmed with the overflowing number of patients coming into our hospitals. I want to open Facebook and not see post after post about someone’s loved one fighting for their life against this virus. I have so many more words about this, but won’t get into that here in this post. If you want to read them, go see my last post from yesterday on my Facebook page, that pretty much sums it all up.

So for all of you reading this, let’s all resolve to just be good to each other. Lay down the politics, the disagreements, the paranoia, all of it, and follow the true call of Jesus which is to love thy neighbor, and put the good of others ahead of ourselves and our opinions and our political loyalties and leanings. The Bible tells us to have faith, but it also says for us not to be foolish. We can have full faith in God while also trusting science and that God has gifted us with people that have the knowledge and the ability to create medical miracles like vaccines. We can have faith in God while also taking precautions to protect ourselves and others. What kind of message does the stance “faith over fear” and the proclamation that “I can gather in crowds and disregard all safety measures, because God will protect me.” , send? When someone falls terribly ill or their loved one dies, the message they hear from that is that God didn’t protect them. That maybe God doesn’t love them, or somehow your faith was superior to theirs. And that my friends, is not the message of love and compassion that Jesus has for us all.

“The Lord will take me when it’s my time”, you say?

Ok then, let me ask you this, do you step out in front of a bus to test if it’s your time or not? Do you push someone else out in front of that bus and hope it’s not their time? Do you ignore the red lights that some very smart people invented as a safety measure and precaution because you don’t need anyone telling you when it’s your turn and it’s your right to put others at risk by not yielding to traffic? No. No you do not.

Ok, so maybe I had a few more words after all. 😂 I guess I always do, lol.

I pray that 2021 brings us a resolve to be kind. To be thoughtful of others. To truly love our neighbors. To see that sometimes the answers to our prayers come in the form of scientists and health care workers. I pray this next year brings us all more peace, I pray it brings us health and an end to this pandemic. I pray that it brings us a release from all the anxiety and that we all feel like we can breathe again. I pray that it brings me and my brothers and sisters and all of our kids safely back to the table in my Mama’s kitchen, laughing uncontrollably at one of her stories while our Dad cooks us an “eggy sandwich” with bacon.

I pray that at the end of next year we can all find ourselves celebrating Christmas in the biggest most joyous of ways, together with our families and loved ones.

I pray for peace and comfort for the ones who have lost the people they love.

I pray we all find the paths we are meant to take, the ones that lead us to our best lives and our truest and best selves.

I pray that we will all do our best to just be good to each other. To love each other well.

And most of all, I pray 2021 brings us all joy. Pure, unspeakable joy.

Happy New Year.

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

Dear 2019

Wait, what? Time for my yearly letter already? When I realized that I needed to get this post written yesterday, I fleetingly thought to myself, “I think I’m just gonna skip it this year.” I’m not sure why, but I just wasn’t feeling it. I suddenly couldn’t imagine what it was that I had to say to this year. Not because it was incredibly bad, and not because it was especially good, but honestly I think it’s because it was a bit of a blur. But, I’ve written this letter every year since my very first post on New Years Eve 2015. So I can’t go breaking tradition now. And once I start writing, I always find that I actually do have something to say. It’s the getting started that is usually the struggle.

365 days. Really, really full days. Seemed we were constantly on the go, with very little down time. Well, we had down time, just not the specific kind that I consider necessary for my overall well being. I love going places and doing things, but I’m one of those people that needs quiet time to myself at least once a week to keep from feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated. And if I go too long without it, it shows. My anxiety level goes up and I start to shut down. So I’ve really got to make more of an effort to create that space for myself.

Overall though, I’d say it was a really good year for us.

We definitely had a handful of bad days. Actually, we probably had some of our worst arguments to date this year. The kind where you look at each other and think, “Who even are you?”

One of them started with a disagreement about shoes of all the silly things, and ended with Jeff walking a couple of miles home in the dark cold night. 😂 It didn’t feel funny at all at the time, but it’s pretty funny now.

Like everyone else, there are times that we disagree. There are some things that we will never see eye to eye on. There are times where arguments about the most ridiculous and unimportant things will suddenly and unexpectedly become about something much bigger. And there are times that we let those arguments get the best of us and we forget what really matters. But we always know that is not who we want to be, personally and as a couple. So we find our way back to the stuff that matters, and try to remember how to love each other well.

We took more short trips this year than we ever have. It’s always fun to get away, and this year brought us several getaways with friends, with family, and for just the two of us.

It ushered in our youngest daughter’s senior year, which has already been packed full of events and college planning and forms and fees. Good Lord have mercy at ALL the fees. If y’all have children, start saving now. Ha. Senior fees, photo sessions, cap and gown fees, Guild fees, formals, college application fees, housing application fees, oh and let’s not forget college orientation fees. That one really stumps me. They want to charge $125 for her to attend a mandatory freshman 2 day orientation. And an extra $50 per person for Jeff and I as her guests. Is this some sort of a trick? Not sure what that $50 pays for exactly, but from what I gather we get to sit through seemingly endless hours of information overload and get a parent reception with some cookies and drinks maybe? That better be a darn good $50 cookie. Lol. I know we already have one kid in college, but she took a different route, doing her freshman year at a community college then transferring to the university as a sophomore so we bypassed all this “extra” stuff. So this is all new to us.

Still, it’s an exciting time for her and I’m praying she gets there and loves it and thrives and follows her heart and makes lifelong friends and finds a career path that brings her joy and financial security. Because this Mama will find a way to pay whatever fees necessary, and spend 2 long boring days of my life that I’ll never get back in parent orientation if it means helping my girl find her best life. 😂

This year also brought the opportunity to do some long overdue improvements on the exterior of our home. I know all too well how stressful renovations can be, so it was both something I was super excited about, and also super stressed out about. Especially when choosing materials and colors, and trying to stay within our budget. But luckily for me, I have a cousin that runs his own renovation company, and he did such a good job and made it as stress free as possible, keeping things cleaned up as much as possible as he went and getting us the look we wanted within the parameters of the budget we had to work with. We got new siding and trim, new windows, replaced the two large sections of our deck that we had not gotten to when Jeff replaced the deck around the pool, and he also built us a lean-to with a tin roof to provide a covered area on the deck. I love it so much and can not wait to get the rock pressure washed, the yard cleaned up and new flowers and plants planted in the spring so we can truly enjoy the space.

Our oldest daughter finished out fall semester in college with a nearly 4.0 grade point average. That was with a schedule full of really tough stem classes and labs, so that’s a real accomplishment. And she’s getting ready to move out of her apartment and into the most adorable old house with the most precious pink claw foot tub you’ve ever seen. She will start her senior year in the fall. When I asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she sent a list back and at the top was “otoscope”. So I texted her back and said,”You mean the thing doctors use to look in people’s ears?” “Yes”, she said.

“So, you’re telling me that for Christmas, you want an otoscope, so you can look at people’s ear drums… for fun?”

“Well, yeah. I really do.”

Ok then. I think it’s safe to say she was meant to be a Doctor. 😂

And so this Mama bought her an otoscope. Did y’all know you can actually order those on Amazon? You totally can. And I totally did.

I started off this year with the intention of writing more, but somehow ended up writing less. Mostly this year felt like I was just passing through it. Jumping from one event to the next one on the calendar. Crossing off items on to do lists and going to the next thing. I did get some more of that book I keep saying I’m writing written, although I put it right back on the shelf again shortly after I picked it up. And that’s ok. It’s a work in progress and so am I.

2019 also brought me a lot further in my quest to find a way to forgive the other woman. I’d have to say that was definitely my biggest accomplishment this year. It brought me a new understanding of what forgiveness truly means and how to truly be able to let the hatred go. I’m pretty proud of the level of forgiveness I’ve been able to reach. That doesn’t mean that we would ever be friends. It doesn’t mean that I’ll ever have feelings of endearment for her. It doesn’t mean that I won’t ever think about the pain she caused and it doesn’t mean that the human side of me just plain doesn’t really like her because of what she did. But it does mean that I can see her through God’s filter. It does mean that I can wish for her and her family to have the same redemption that my family has found and the same happiness that I want for my own family. And it means that we can unexpectedly find ourselves sitting about 6 seats away from each other on the same aisle in church and it doesn’t phase me one bit. Yep. That happened. And it was fine.

Jesus loves both of us. We both have a seat at His table. And if those seats are in close proximity to each other, that’s ok. Call me crazy if you want, but we aren’t gonna be able to avoid seeing each other in Heaven. So might as well accept it and get used to it now right? Ha. Earlier this year I reached out to her husband by text to discuss the church situation, and see how he felt about it and to see how he was doing, and I found a lot of peace in hearing from him that they were in a good place and that he was happy. So, yes. Sometimes I see her at church. And sometimes we end up in close proximity to each other. And that’s not something I would have thought at one time that I’d be capable of handling. But God wants the same good things for both of us, and I guess that is what gives me the peace that passes all understanding, and allows me to share that space. Because my focus is on Him.

She did something awful that she never formally apologized for…to me anyway, and I have no idea where her head and heart are at concerning any of it. But when it comes down to it, that’s between her and her family, and mostly it’s between her and God, so it’s not my place to judge her heart. So, instead of choosing to hate her for it, I pray that she has made things right with God, and I pray regularly for her family, that they would have the same happiness and blessings that I want for my own. It wasn’t easy to get to a place where I could do that, and it took a really long time, but finally getting to a place where I can wish her the best has definitely brought my own heart a lot more peace.

So overall, 2019, I’d say you treated us well. Even if you felt a bit rushed. A bit overloaded. Maybe a bit stressful. But I’m pretty sure that was all on me, and not really your doing at all. We filled our days up, and this year was chock full of really good things. So if I had to pick a resolution for 2020, it would be to try to slow down, take each moment as it comes, and try to soak it all in a bit more and not get so stressed about getting things done and looking so far to the next thing that I miss so much of the now. Because by this time next year, we will be empty nesters. 😱 How did that happen so fast? Advice to you younger parents out there, the same advice that I heard a million times and yet it didn’t really sink in til I actually found myself here… don’t get ahead of yourselves. Don’t get so caught up in the stress of parenthood and your daily to do lists that you miss all the little moments. Because it really is true that one day you suddenly wake up and they are GROWN. And you wish you would have listened to all the older Mama’s to savor it all. Because while it feels like forever to you now, and all you really want is a long uninterrupted nap, it truly is over in a flash. So take my advice, even though I still obviously struggle to take it myself, cut yourself a break and stop over scheduling yourself and stressing over the unimportant stuff like the dishes, and snuggle those babies while you still can.

It’s hard to believe we are about to begin a new decade. The last 10 years brought me some of the greatest joys, and also the most devastating heartache. Halfway through it, my world got shaken and turned upside down and inside out. I found myself broken, and my world unrecognizable.

It was dark, terrifying, and incredibly disorienting.

But the second half brought me redemption. Healing. Wisdom. Deeper relationships with friends, with family, and with my husband. It brought me a deeper sense of self, and brought me purpose. It brought out gifts that had been hidden away, under the walls I had built, and revealed an inner strength I had no idea that I possessed. But mostly, I found a closeness with God that I didn’t even know I’d been missing. A dependence on a Heavenly Father to make all things new. A new understanding of His promise to work ALL things for our good.

So thank you, 2019, and the whole past ten years. You broke me in ways I never could have imagined, but you also gave me a new life I never could have imagined. And I came out of it, battle weary and with more than a few scars for sure, but stronger, wiser, more empathetic, bolder, and a better version of myself than I would have been without having been refined by walking through your firestorm. And knowing, more than ever before, that no matter what life throws at us, and no matter what surprises lie ahead of us, God goes before us, walks beside us, and cleans up the messes we leave behind us. He’s there in the dark, and He’s there in the light. And He always, always keeps His promise to work all things for our good.

While I know I can never forget the pain of the past decade, I’ll mostly try to remember the goodness. Because there was SO much goodness. So, I walk into this new decade thankful, hopeful, and expectantly watching for all the goodness the next ten years will bring. I pray it brings so much goodness for all of you, and for your children. I pray that all of our children, as they make their own way in life, find a deeper relationship with God that will carry them through all that they have ahead of them. I pray for blessings on all of our families, and that the next ten years brings an overflow of goodness to us all.

Happy new year. Happy new decade. May it be the best one yet.

Psalm 20:4-

“May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.”

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

Jesus and peach ice cream

Summer is almost over, y’all. That happened so fast. We’ve had a full summer. Lots of goodness around here.

But as I wrote in my last blog post, it started out a little rough.

I last wrote to y’all about a dream I had, one in which evil had come, looking to destroy us.

And in the space of time just before and after I had that dream, he’d been doing just that.

Attacking us in our most vulnerable spaces.

Whispering words of temptation, or words of doubt.

Whispering the lie that we will never be enough.

Calling out our faults and telling us that is who we truly are, and that we can’t be anything else.

Whispering the lie that things are worse than they are. That every argument, every disagreement, is somehow the end of everything.

Whispering words of fear.

Temptation.

Doubt.

Insecurity.

Discontentment.

False Identity.

Discouragement.

Frustration.

Fear.

Lack.

Defeat.

These are his weapons.

And he came at us with EVERY last one.

And there were moments, a couple of dark moments, when I thought he just might have succeeded.

And then I remembered. I remembered the dream I had. And I remembered the pained whisper.

And I realized what was happening, and I said to myself:

No. Nope. Nuh-uh.

Not having it.

And so I prayed.

I prayed for Jeff to remember who he really is. I prayed for his eyes to be open and his heart to be softened. I prayed the same for myself. I prayed that we would both have the discernment to be able to call the attack and the lies of the enemy out and rebuke them with the truth.

I prayed that the goodness inside of us would be bigger and the voice of truth louder than any of the darkness the devil was trying to cloud our minds with.

And finally, as we lay in silence in the quiet of the night, both of us feeling tired and somewhat defeated, I simply, and inaudibly, whispered: “Jesus, fix it.”

And within minutes, Jeff turned over and started talking, and everything was sorted out, and the darkness was gone. The heaviness was lifted. The light pushed out the dark. The truth spoke louder than the lies.

And love won.

With nothing more than two hearts, turned towards Him, and a pained whisper of “Jesus, fix it.”

So we had a little rough patch, but, like we always do, we found our way again.

And since then, we have had a lot of really great summer days.

We had an adult trip to the beach, where I ate basically nothing but baked oysters topped with every kind of cheesy goodness. Ugh. SO good. I wish I had some of these right now!

We spent a morning boating to Crab Island. I took late night golf cart rides with my sister in law and cousin in law laughing until our stomachs hurt, and I sat on the beach for endless hours, so, yeah, that was pretty awesome.

Emily came home for the summer. She recently switched her college track to pre-med, so we’ve been working on preparations for that. When she is here, the Tupperware cabinet is always organized, the kitchen clean, and I sometimes come home to find all my laundry has been folded in these neat little Marie Kondo type of tiny little squares, which is fascinating , and I always get to try new vegan meals and treats that are always good and sometimes surprisingly especially delicious. Having her home always makes this Mama’s heart happy. This week we will move her and her cousin into their new apartment, and I will miss her so much, again, but am so thankful we get to see her often, and so proud of the sweet, super smart, hardworking, ambitious woman she is.

I had a birthday. I turned 45!

FOURTY FIVE y’all.

It’s ok. I’m ok. That’s not old or anything, right? Those aren’t gray hairs I see popping up. They’re just silvery blond highlights from the sun is all. That’s what I keep telling myself. And, I’m still gonna keep praying those grays at least hold off a few more years until Kate can finish high school and college and pay for her own hair color, because this Mama can’t afford regular appointments for balayage for the both of us.

Seriously though, I’ll take it. Another year older versus the alternative.

Life is good, I have the best family and friends in the world, so give me ALL the years, please. And Botox. If anyone wants to gift me some Botox and/or fillers for these lines on my forehead and just under my eyes, I’ll gladly take that too. I’m thankful for getting older, but I’m still on board with fighting these wrinkles for as long as possible and in any way possible. Lol.

I’ve had fun weekly Bachelorette viewing parties with the very best friends and sisters in the whole world. Good friends, good food, and fun trash tv shows make for the best nights. Make time for your most favorite girlfriends y’all.

We had a 4th of July trip to the lake with Jeff’s family and some friends.

We spent time on the boat, spent time floating in the lake with friends, and shot off our own fireworks on an island in the middle of the lake.

I only nearly died once when an errant firework went flying between me and Kate and missed both of us by inches, despite the fact that I was keeping a more than was probably necessary safe distance, because I’m a fraidy-cat. Ha. That was scary. Here is video to prove it. Yikes. I might have…ok, I’ll admit that I definitely DID let out a cuss word, which thankfully was not picked up in the video. Sorry,Mama. Ha.

I mentioned to Jeff one afternoon that I would love to have some dark stained wood floating shelves to put over the sofa. He asked me to show him a picture, and the next thing I know, the man is outside building me some. He likes to make me happy. And look how great they turned out! He’s a talented builder, and a pretty sweet guy.

I took a road trip with just my parents, and my sisters, and one of my brothers. My other brother didn’t get to go because he was on the road with the band he plays with, so we missed having him there. But it was one of the MOST fun trips I’ve ever had. I can’t wait to do it again. We are so blessed to have such sweet, fun, amazing parents and I’m so thankful we get to spend time with them.

I also prayed for Kate to find a job. Because she’s a teenage girl that likes to hang out with friends, buy Starbucks, eat at Sonic, Zaxbys, and the Japanese restaurant, drive all over the place using tons of gas, and also wants to buy cute clothes, get her hair colored and nails done regularly, and let’s not forget about her absolute obsession with ridiculously expensive sneakers.

That thing they say….”having a daughter can be like having a little broke best friend that thinks you’re rich”… totally true.

She is now gainfully employed by two amazing Moms, picking up some very sweet and very adorable kiddos after school. Thank the Lord! Mama needs her debit card back,stat.

That sweet girl is a senior this year. Not sure how that happened. I’m slightly sad thinking back at how fast it went, but also somewhat excited at how easy things have gotten. She drives herself everywhere, and I never have to work on another science project or pack another lunch, and the freedom of that feels pretty darn good!

She had her senior yearbook pictures made last week.

It’s bittersweet, when the baby is a senior. It’s the end of an era, yet also an exciting new beginning.

My sweet baby is almost all grown up. Sigh. Just look at that sweet face.

We planned a weekend beach getaway, and then figured out there was a mixup with the reservation dates, so we couldn’t go. It was so, so sad. To make up for it, we took Kate and her boyfriend to an amusement park, which also turned out to be a complete bust, and so the next day we went zip lining to try and make up for the busted beach trip AND the terrible amusement park. And it was awesome. So much fun, except for the suspended swinging bridge with unevenly spaced planks to walk across. That was terrifying. TERRIFYING. But give me ALL the zip lines. So, so fun.

And Jeff finally took me fishing. I’ve only been asking like, I don’t know, a year. It was a sweet afternoon, spent in a rickety old fishing boat on a small pond. I only reeled in one fish. But one is better than none, right?

We spent more than one sunny afternoon going to the peach farm for the best fresh peach strawberry swirl ice cream cone in the world. And I’ve pretty much ignored my low carb diet for the most part in favor of the occasional cheeseburger and fries, lots of ice cream, summery pasta salads, one Oreo cheesecake chocolate birthday cake, homemade brownies with ice cream and hot caramel sauce, strawberries with homemade cheesecake dip, homemade blackberry and peach cobbler, and all the fresh summer peaches, cherries, watermelon and tomatoes I can get my hands on. Oh and poundcake. Because if a coworker’s sweet Grandma sends a still warm, fresh from the oven poundcake to your office, you eat it. Because who can resist a good Grandma baked poundcake? Not me. So if you notice that I’ve maybe, (ok..definitely) put a few pounds back on, just know it’s because I am living my best summer life and I’m not about to give up the joy of these summer time treats for the sake of a few pounds. I’ll go back to the low carb life shortly and hopefully get quickly back to my target weight. Life is short, we should enjoy it!

So, my message to you today is to always be aware. Always be vigilant of the attacks on yourself and on your family. Keep your eyes open and don’t get blinded by the lies. When the arguments or the setbacks take on that deceptive illusion that the situation is hopeless, or just too big or too hard or too overwhelming, or that you are something that you’re not; actively remind yourself and each other of the truth, the truth of who you are, the truth of who they are. The goodness inside of yourself and in them.

Enjoy all the big fun moments in life, and the little ones. Make space for the good stuff. Take the trip. Eat the ice cream. Definitely eat the ice cream.

And when the lies of the enemy get too heavy, and the darkness starts getting too thick, a simple “Jesus, fix it.”, and maybe, a freshly baked poundcake or a really good peach ice cream, is all you really need.

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

Dear 2018

Dear 2018,

In reflecting on you today, I’ve had a bit of a hard time figuring out how to describe you. On the surface, you were pretty quiet. You definitely had some big moments. But mostly, I think I’d say you were steady, and quiet. Yes, I think that’s it. A steady, quiet growth. The kind of growth you see in a child. Where you put them to bed, night after night, not really noticing the seemingly slow and subtle changes, until you look back at a picture from the year before and realize how vastly they had changed and grown. That’s what this year has been for me. Quiet, slow and subtle growth, growth that is actually a much larger leap overall than it appears to be at first glance.

2018 brought me a fairly peaceful year for the most part. Lots of good things, and a few bad things that turned out to be good things.

We had 3 beach trips. 3!!! That in and of itself makes for a pretty good year. One was a surprise whirlwind one nighter, that I was sure was going to cause me more stress than relaxation, but it turned out to be just the refreshment I needed to start off this year. That trip also brought us to Kate’s first car. Which we ended up losing a few months later to a giant tree, along with Jeff’s car. Ahhh the great car debacle of 2018. That was a doozy.

So incredibly stressful, and just when I thought it was over, Emily’s car went kaput and we were right back to a car dealership buying car #3 in a 6 week period. I was having a hard time seeing the good God intended in that whole situation. I literally had no idea how we were going to make having these new car payments work. But God, as He always does, made provisions and we haven’t struggled at all to make those payments. Not too long after all that, my car engine suddenly decided to go into catastrophic engine failure. All I could think was, “You have got to be kidding me right now.” But no, it was no joke. My car was TOAST. And after a humorous after the fact but not so humorous during the fact attempt at towing the car ourselves to the dealership about 60 miles away in an attempt to save a few hundred bucks..(we will NEVER do that again!) we find out that it is 100% covered by the warranty, up to 120,000 miles. Y’all, we were somewhere around 119,700. So while it did not feel like God was in that at the time, He most definitely was. If we had gone just a few hundred more miles, I would have been out of luck and not been able to get a dime to get a new engine or replace that car.

Then there was the rainbow prism car they gave me as a loaner while my car was being repaired. It was hilarious….and a bit embarrassing. But my Dad said he believed that the rainbow paint was intentional. Partly because God has a sense of humor, and partly an intentional reminder that He always keeps His promises to work every single thing for our good.

And that is exactly what He did.

Jeff and the girls ended up with much better and more dependable cars, and I ended up with a new engine, which means I basically got a new car, on the inside anyway. So even though it seemed like all those things were bad, God used them for our good.

This year also took us back to our favorite place, Disney World. I started planning in April, and we went in December. Disney, when my kids were little, was so fun and magical, but I am here to tell you that Disney with grown up kids is STILL so fun and magical. And a lot less stressful, ha. I mean they can walk and feed themselves, and I no longer have to lug a bag full of stuff all over the parks. It’s literally so easy now! Our trip was short this year but SO much fun.

It is and always will be a special place for us.

This was also the year that I decided to get a bit more serious about the weight I had gained. I started trying to do better food wise around April, and then in September we kicked it up a notch and switched to the Keto diet. I’m not gonna lie, the first few weeks of that transition were rough. I had quite the carb addiction and literally felt like the diet was sucking every ounce of joy from my life. I was overwhelmed and slightly confused as to how to make it work and literally wanted to cry every day for two weeks straight. Then I kind of settled in and figured it out and ended up really loving it. Now, we are not super strict, meaning we have a cheat meal every couple of weeks. And if there’s a special occasion or if there’s just something we really want, we have it. Because we are foodies and food does bring a lot of joy to our lives, and I’m not about to outlaw the occasional joyful treat in the name of some strict diet rule. I will mostly stick to the plan, but there will be times that I will just eat what I want because ‘let me live my life and live it to the fullest!’

We did really well, and both lost over 20 pounds.

Starting the week of Disney, we shut the diet down temporarily because, Hello! Disney food!

I will NOT deny myself the joy of Mickey Waffles and Dole Whip floats. And then there were ALL the Christmas celebrations. And like I said, these are the times that we allow ourselves the freedom to eat that dessert, or that bread or those potatoes, and that Big Mac and fries… (yep, I totally did that) and enjoy it to the fullest. And I may have gained 3 pounds, but it was 100% worth the joy that little 3 week diet vacation gave me.

But starting next week, we will go back to the keto, because we like it, and we feel so much better when we follow it, and I have a few more pounds to go to reach my goal. I believe in making healthy choices to lose weight, but I also believe in allowing yourself a little freedom every now and then so that you don’t become a slave to the diet. I don’t want to be a slave to the unhealthy food or to the diet, so following it for the most part but still allowing the occasion wiggle room works for us.

This year also brought us our sweet Great-nephew Max. To say that I, his favorite Auntie Amy (yes Auntie Marla, it’s my blog so I can say that and get away with it.😜) anyway, to say that I was smitten, would be a vast understatement. This kid is all kinds of cute y’all. 😍

He was born with Tetralogy of Fallot, a congenital heart defect. He had open heart surgery almost 3 weeks ago, to repair the heart defects and correct the blood flow to his lungs, and he handled it like a champ. The rest of us, well… we were kind of a big ole mess, but Max breezed right through it like the sweet, strong, brave warrior that he is. His parents and grandparents were an example of strength and faith in the most scary of situations, and I couldn’t be prouder of the way they’ve walked through it. And we are all so very thankful for a successful surgery and for how quickly he is healing. Fun fact: His mom requested that people send letters to Max, so that she could show him all their well wishes when he got older. And Auntie Amy over here may have gone a little overboard and sent messages to a CRAPLOAD of celebrities on Instagram asking nicely if they might be kind enough to send Max a card, and Auntie Amy just may have apparently sent one too many and got herself temporarily blocked from sending messages on Instagram. Oops. What can I say? 🤷🏻‍♀️ His Auntie Amy really loves him and is willing to go to great lengths to try and get him some cool letters. Even if it means she gets temporarily kicked off of Instagram. Lol. Sorry kid, apparently my Instagram letter campaign was not a success. Auntie Amy tried. I did bring him a Mickey Mouse back from Disney though.

The surgery went great, and Max is back to his sweet, laughing, smiling self, and we are forever grateful for God’s hand in that.

And speaking of healing, I feel like we’ve done a lot of that this year. Some say year two is the magic number when it comes to healing from infidelity. Though I would say that year two was definitely a turning point, year three for me has been the most significant from a healing aspect. My heart has been calmer. My mind less anxious. The triggers nearly non existent. Nearly. Not completely. They’re still there. But they rarely take me by surprise anymore. The power they once had to literally bring me to my knees and reduce me to a breathless puddle of gut wrenching pain and tears, now barely strong enough to make me need to catch my breath. I have made huge strides in my ability to see the triggers for what they are:

-Painful memories that are no longer a part of my current reality.

-Facts that I can not change but CAN choose what to do with.

-Attacks on my heart, my mind and my spirit with the intention to keep me from living in the goodness of this present moment and to keep me from the greatness of what’s still to come.

The triggers use to come and they would pull me so forcefully into their disorienting spirals of pain, and I would be stuck there, against my will, and I would have to fight SO, SO hard to find my way out of their clutches.

But now, the triggers are mostly weak, and distant. I’m no longer an easy target for their attacks. The cracks in me have been filled up with so much of His goodness. So much grace. Forgiveness. Redemption. So many blessings, that the triggers can barely squeeze through them anymore. And even when they do, they don’t last long, because all that goodness I’ve soaked in outshines any bad thoughts they bring. And I refuse to make the space for it, that darkness. There’s just no room for it here, in this new life. I made the space for it at first. I had to. It was necessary, that brokenness. There was a time for it, and I had to accept it in and process it. Without the pain there’s no healing. Without the disaster, there’s no miracle. Without the mistakes, there’s no redemption. So there’s a space and a time for the darkness, but that space and time is LIMITED. There comes a time when we have to choose to change our perspective. To see God’s goodness as bigger than that all encompassing painful thing that we’ve gone through. There’s no magic moment that I can pinpoint that this happened for me. I think there was always a part of me that believed that God would somehow make something good out of this mess. But there were many, many moments where the pain of it all felt bigger than any good I could ever imagine coming from it. And it’s taken time to walk through that, and work through all the doubts and fears. You just have to continually choose to live in the good.

This year brought us quite a few new couples, fresh on the heels of the disastrous unmaking of their own marriages. Finding themselves stumbling blindly down this dark path we’ve walked. Each story different, but so much the same. SO MUCH HEARTACHE. And oh how my heart aches for them. Knowing so well the pain they are feeling. Remembering the freshness of it.

And so I reach back, and extend a hand in the darkness. A flicker of light to show them that they aren’t hopelessly lost. An ear to listen, and a voice to whisper, “you won’t walk through this alone.” I am not thankful for having endured the pain of infidelity, but I am thankful for the gift of being able to use that experience to help someone else walk through it, and find their way to the other side of it, and my heart is ALL kinds of in it. You will find no greater champion for your marriage, or for yourself than me and Jeff Gordy. You can get through this, you can be better in spite of it, you can be better because of it, and we are HERE FOR IT. All of it. It brings us no greater joy than to see the people that have been put in our path walking in redemption.

Not every marriage survives. And that’s ok. That just means there are other plans for your life and I can guarantee you that those plans are good. And if this is the case for you I am your biggest cheerleader and can’t wait to see what surprises God has in store for you. You are going to be ok, and great things will happen in your life and I am HERE FOR IT.

And for the marriages that have and are pushing through, that have or are in the process of recommitting to each other, seeing you guys walk this out and find your way through the darkness and slowly but surely finding your joy again… IT FILLS MY HEART UP.

To know that we had even a tiny part of God’s redemption plan for you, it’s humbling and healing and I am just so, so grateful to be part of it.

For those of you that may have stumbled across this, and maybe you’re in a situation where you are considering cheating. Maybe you’re just ever so slightly entertaining the idea. I have one word of advice. Don’t. Just don’t. Save yourself the lifetime of regret. The lifetime of hurt. Save your spouse a lifetime of carrying the scars. Save your children from having to carry those memories and that pain. That’s the best advice I could ever give anyone. Just don’t do it.

While I am thankful and blessed to help you guys out, I’d much, much prefer that you never find yourselves in need of our help.

The last few days of each year have been a little anxious for me over these last few years. It’s just part of the effects of the PTSD, I guess. Because I would think back to the end of 2014, and how I did not see the pain and heartache waiting for me that next year. I didn’t see the utter destruction that was already in the making, that would take shape just a few short weeks ahead. I’d hear that little voice that says, “you didn’t see that coming… what else might be waiting just around the bend? What unexpected destruction lies in your path?”

I started having those thoughts again a couple of days ago. But I fought back by remembering all the good things and the blessings. The gratefulness that our family still gets to go on vacations and spend holidays together as a whole family. I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude in all of those moments. The moments that we are together as a family. The moments that almost ceased to exist and never were again. I do not take for granted the miracle of those moments. The miracle of redemption. The gift that we get to share our story and bring hope and help clear a path for others that are lost in their brokenness.

In the face of anxiety, I WILL NOT forget God’s promises to work everything for our good. EVERYTHING. And I will remind myself how He has never, ever broken that promise to me. I will remember that HE IS GOOD.

And so I will have hope for a new year, and that no matter what it brings, He goes before me, He makes a way for me, and He makes all things good.

So 2018, this is where I say thank you. You had your challenges, and you weren’t always the easiest,but you’re the first year since 2015 that I can truly say really wasn’t all that hard. You brought lots of good things, good experiences, and good people into our lives. You proved that God is still in the details, and that He is still working ALL things for our good.

So here’s to you, and here’s to all the great things to come in 2019.

And finally, thank you all for continuing to read my posts. I know I wrote a lot less this year, even though I said last year I was going to write more. Oops. 🤷🏻‍♀️

And even though I haven’t touched that book I said I was going to write in months. Oops again. 🤦🏻‍♀️

I think I just had a lot more healing and growing to do before I was truly ready for that, and I think I’ve done a lot of that this year. So maybe I’ll get back to that soon. If a book is meant to be, and God wants it in the hands of people, He will work all that out in His timing, so that the specific people it’s meant for will have it EXACTLY when they need it. And if that never happens, I’ll continue to share my story here, and in my everyday life and with the people that God puts in our path. I’m not saying I’m setting the book on a shelf, but I think I’ve needed to take the time to heal a little more before I can really fully tell our story in that format. I believe I’m a lot closer to that now, and that I’ll pick it back up when God prompts me that the time is right.

We are truly thankful for all of you, for your encouragement, your love, and your support. I pray you all have a new year full of blessings and adventure and that no matter what this new year brings, that you’ll look for the goodness. That you’ll “be the tree” if an unexpected storm comes your way. And that you’ll find the joy and the miracle of redemption, in whatever form that takes.

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

Make the space

I woke up early this morning, itching to write something. Anything really. It seems that it has become increasingly more difficult to find the time for it. Writing requires focus, and quiet, and time to reflect and sort your thoughts, and it seems that my days off either become so full with daily responsibilities or time made for family or friends….all really good things, but when I go too long, I start to feel like something is missing. I start to feel a little incomplete, maybe unfulfilled?

I’m not really sure what the word I’m looking for is. I think it’s just become so inherently a part of who I am, and what my purpose is, that when I set it aside for too long, maybe I just start to feel like I’m losing a part of myself.

Maybe sometimes I don’t write for good reasons, such as the ones mentioned above, and sometimes, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t write just because I get lazy, and choose to watch the last 2 episodes of This is Us instead of writing a new blog. I can’t say that isn’t a good reason either though, because that show is SO, SO good. There are some really good life lessons hidden away in some of these shows. I mean, if the Pearson’s don’t move your soul, I don’t know if we can be friends or not. 😂

But, at some point, if I don’t purposely chase down the time to write, the writing chases me, and I find myself unable to lie in bed for another minute, or turn that tv on, or do that laundry.

I guess that’s how you know the difference between a hobby and a calling. When something is just a hobby, you can live without it. But a calling, a calling chases you down. You can run from it, you can try to ignore it. You can fill up your time with all kinds of things so that there’s no room for it. But you can’t escape it. It will not stop coming for you. And you will find that you never feel as whole, as fulfilled, as when you choose to stop, and make the space for it. To step into that calling, your purpose, His purpose.

So today, I write.

Today I write about making space.

I was talking recently with one of the young ladies that I am helping navigate the early days of surviving infidelity. We were discussing how infidelity happens and what is going through the mind of the cheater that makes them able to justify going through with it, especially when the marriage seemed to be a fairly happy one. I explained to her that the choices people make, all go back to what they are making space for.

With Jeff, it happened like this:

Honestly, I would have to say Jeff and I were probably always a little disconnected. He had a porn issue and always had a flirty nature and tended to get close to people he worked with and such. I always kind of felt like I was a bit of an outsider. Like he had his life at home with me, and then his work life that I wasn’t really privy to. Not that he necessarily intentionally kept things from me, just that he kept things compartmentalized, and because of that I felt like sometimes, all I ever got was pieces of him. I was definitely an important piece of his life, but then, when the other woman came along, their friendship crossed the boundaries bit by bit. He slowly started having more conversations with her and less conversations with me. He began to share more of his thoughts and feelings with her and became less and less open with me. This went on until the pieces of him I did get became less and less, and the space I took up in his heart and mind got more and more crowded out by the fantasy world he created with her and so to him, in his mind, it felt like he had lost his connection with me. So he told himself that we weren’t really happy, that maybe we weren’t really compatible, that we didn’t have that spark anymore. When in reality, none of those things were really true. We had not lost our connection or our love for each other. He had just stopped making space for it by filling his head with the illusion of his life with her.

Little by little, he allowed the thoughts and the flirtations and the conversations to take up more and more space in his heart and mind until he couldn’t see me anymore through the cloud of it.

Thankfully, when he was no longer able to hide in that fantasy world he created, and everything was brought to light, he was able to break through that fog so he could see the truth of that. And the truth of the destruction that was caused because of his choice to make space for all the wrong things.

Now, he and I both make an effort to include each other in every part of our lives. We are definitely more connected now than we ever were before any of this happened and it’s because we’ve learned how to love each other and HOLD THAT SPACE for each other well.

Be careful of what you’re making space for. Don’t be fooled by that thing that maybe boosts your ego, or makes you feel good in the moment. Don’t be fooled by that thing that looks all shiny and sparkly and fun on the surface. Because before you know it, it will grab hold and grow like an unforgiving cancer and you will lose sight of everything that ever really mattered to you. It will fill you up until it eats away every piece of who God intended you to be. And you’ll be so blinded by the illusion of it, you won’t even realize it, until it may be too late.

So be careful, so very careful, with what you make space for.

But mostly, be intentional in what you make space for. Make the space for your spouse. You may feel like that spark is gone, or that you just don’t have the same connection that you used to have. But I am here to tell you, if it was ever truly there to begin with,

you did not lose your love for each other. You did not lose your connection to each other.

One or maybe both of you simply stopped making the space for it.

You have to choose what and who to make space for.

And if you need help with figuring out how to do that, come talk to me. Come talk to Jeff. We will do our best to help you find your way down this path. We may not be that far ahead of you, but we are far enough ahead to be able to tell you what it looks like. We know the traps, the detours, the potholes that can sometimes make it feel impossible to travel. But we are here, we made it through them all so far, and so can you. It’s a steep and narrow road, but you do not walk it alone. We will make the space for you.

Make the space for the things that really matter. Make the space for your family. Make the space for your spouse. Make the space for your health. Make the space for your spiritual life. Make the space for your healing. Make the space for your calling. Make the space for your purpose.

Make the space for every bit of goodness you can find. Just make the space for it, and God will fill you up with more goodness than you can hold.

Decide today what you need to clear out. Decide today what you need to make the space for.

Just make the space.

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

Feels like freedom

Oh September. I try to ignore you. I really, really do.

And I was doing a pretty good job of it.

I mean, it’s usually around mid August, when the heaviness starts setting in. When I remember the date looming ahead, September 10th. The day life as I knew it irrevocably changed forever.

But this year, August was nearly over and I realized that I really hadn’t thought about it. That’s when it suddenly struck me how well we are doing. How far we’ve come. How far I’VE come.

How quiet the hum just underneath the surface has gotten. That hum used to be such a roar, I could barely focus on anything else. The thoughts and the pain, they not only ran through a never ending loop in my mind, but they seemed to course through my veins, seeping into every part of my existence. I learned to push it back, to try and drown it out so that I could function in a halfway normal manner for all outward appearances. But it was still SO loud for what seemed like so long.

I’m not sure exactly when it got so much quieter. I can’t really pin point it. I think it was so slow, so gradual, I just didn’t notice it. I mean, I did notice. I knew there had been healing. I knew it got easier. But I hadn’t really noticed the stark distance between where we were and where we are. I hadn’t really noticed the gradual lessening of the hum.

Most of the time, it’s nothing more than a faint whisper now. Echoes of the past. I don’t suppose it ever completely leaves you.

But to know it won’t always be so loud, so painfully loud, well, it feels…kind of like freedom.

Maybe not freedom in the sense that it has no bearing on you anymore. It certainly still affects the present sometimes. But sometimes maybe freedom isn’t necessarily a release from something, as much as it is learning to live your best life in spite of something. Learning to make the most of the changes it brought. Learning to live through it, and launch from it.

Maybe freedom is actually acceptance. Maybe, freedom is merely growth.

Maybe, freedom is simply gained not by trying to forget, or pretend as though that bad thing never happened, but maybe it’s in the ability….no, the insistence of moving forward in search of the good.

It definitely shaped the person I am today. In good ways and bad. It tore me down. Stripped me of almost everything I believed to be real. Shattered my heart.

It broke me.

EVERY SINGLE part of me.

But I survived it.

WE survived it.

I put myself back together. Although the pieces didn’t fit quite the same anymore. There were cracks. So many cracks. But if you allow it, God can fill those cracks with goodness. The cracks are still there, and you can still see the seams of every single one.

I’ll never be the same.

But eventually you won’t see the emptiness through the cracks anymore. Just the goodness shining through.

And sometimes, there’s goodness that was already hidden underneath the cracks. Gifts and talents and wisdom that’s always been there, but has been locked away, waiting for the outer layers to be torn away so it can rise to the surface.

I had to choose that. I had to choose to either dwell in those empty broken places, or let Him both draw out what was hidden away beneath them or fill them in with something I was missing. And if today, you are the one that is broken, at some point you will have to choose too.

Not all at once. But little by little, after you’ve spent some time exploring those broken pieces of yourself, and taking the time to grieve the parts you lost, you will have to decide if you want to dwell there, in that dark broken place, or if you want to look for the goodness to come. You have to choose to allow God to fill that space in, even when you’re not sure how it could possibly be filled. No, it won’t happen quickly, or all of a sudden. But your time will come. Your deafening hum will get quieter. You’ll suddenly realize that it isn’t so hard anymore.

That life can be good again.

Broken is hard. Shattered is painful. Being torn down is nothing less than completely devastating.

But being torn down is sometimes the only way to be built into your full potential. Being shattered is sometimes the only way to release the things hidden away inside of you.

And sometimes, broken is beautiful.

Because sometimes, broken is the only true way to wholeness.

Sometimes the broken you is the only way to the best you.

I woke up a few days ago, finally feeling the heavy pull of September. Feeling the pull of darker days; echoes of that awful September day three years ago, and the excruciating days that followed it, calling out to me. Drawing me back like some giant magnet into a dark hole. That hum that I had just recently realized was so quiet, threatening to get loud again. The images, the memories, trying to force their way in.

There’s no peace for you, they say.

You don’t get to be a normal couple, they say.

You’ll always be broken, they say.

And the worst one….

I can ruin you again, they say.

But I fight not to listen. Not to let the lies settle in to my spirit. I fight back with the truths that I’ve hidden away there.

It’s not easy. Because those whispers feel like loud, unavoidable truth sometimes.

Sometimes it feels like those dreams you have where you try to scream but you can’t get the sound out, or you try to fight but you’re frozen and can’t move.

So you have to dig deep, and let God’s truths you’ve hidden away in your heart speak for you until you find your strength and your voice again.

Because God says that He heals the broken-hearted, and He binds up our wounds.

Because God says no weapon formed against us shall prosper.

Because God says He gives us a new heart.

Because God says He makes a way for us in the wilderness.

Because God says He will make all our paths straight.

Because God says He is for us.

Because God says He knows the plans He has for us, and they are always, always good.

Because God says what He has joined together, let no one tear apart.

Because God says we are more than conquerors.

Because He says He makes all things new.

Because He says He will give us a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

Because God says let the redeemed of the Lord say so.

And I SAY so.

I am redeemed.

WE ARE REDEEMED.

So take that, September. Take your darkness. Take your sadness. Take your bad memories. Take your anxiety. Take your deafening hum.

You had your day. And that day has passed.

You tore us down, but He built us up.

You took away everything we had and everything we were, but He replaced it with something far better.

You won the battle on that dark September day, but Jesus, grace, and love,

Love won the war.

Matthew 7:25

The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

The Pause

Four months. Has it really been four months since the last time I wrote something here? Honestly, it’s probably been at least 2 and a half since I’ve written anything at all. Time has been a funny thing lately. Maybe it’s just me, but it feels as though it’s moving faster. 

It’s just been a busy year I guess. But also, I think for me, it’s kind of become the year of the pause. Some sort of in between space,a transition of sorts, in many aspects of my life. Our kids for instance. 

Kate is 16 now. Halfway through high school. The in between space of being our baby girl, and nearly an adult. The space where we have to learn to let go on so many levels, and let her find her own way. The space where they have one foot out in the world, and yet we want so much to protect them still. I’ve always been a bit of an overprotective Mama, so it’s a really tough space for me. Navigating High school, newfound freedom that comes with driving, a part time job ….and boys. It’s a whole new world when they turn 16. That tug of war that happens with the holding on tight and the loosening of the grip, never really knowing if you’re getting the balance quite right. But, I’ve been here before. And I’ve seen the other side. So I know that although I most certainly didn’t get everything right the first time, and I’ll likely miss the mark on quite a few occasions this time around too, in the end, as long as they know ultimately we are on their side and just want the very best for them, that’s really the only thing you have to get right. 

Emily is still acing college. In the next year or so, she will be deciding where to apply for Grad school. Some of the options she has considered could possibly take her far from us. But for now, I’m just trying not to think about it and just enjoy this space of the in between. I didn’t quite get her back for the summer as she decided to stay at school and take classes for the summer semester. But she has been home for several weekend visits. 

And she’s really stepped up in the big sister role. I actually let Kate drive herself to go see her. It’s a 2 and a half hour drive, and the furthest she’s ever gone on her own. They spent the day together shopping, eating sushi and getting ice cream. There were so many years that they argued and annoyed each other. They are SO very different. But over the years I have always told them that one day, they would grow to appreciate each other. That one day, they would truly enjoy each other’s company. That despite their differences, they would eventually see that they are more alike than they thought. I would always tell them that one day, they would be so thankful to have each other, that they would be the best of friends and wouldn’t be able to imagine a world without one another to share it with. I have such a strong bond with my sisters, (and brothers) and I’ve always prayed the same for my girls. I’m beginning to see that coming to fruition with the two of them, and there’s not much that makes a Mama’s heart happier than seeing her kids develop that friendship and supporting each other, and knowing they will always have each other to lean on and share life with. 

In our church life, we’ve also found ourselves somewhere in a space of transition. Feeling like we might be going in a different direction, but not quite clear what that direction is yet, so just kind of hanging out. And I’m ok with that for now. 
Jeff and I are good. One reason I haven’t spent as much time writing lately is that I haven’t really had any days at home alone. There just haven’t been any days that someone else wasn’t here, or that we didn’t have something going on or somewhere to be. I really need several hours of being alone to write. It’s the only way I can focus and not be distracted. It can be done with others around, but it’s just really not fair to them, because when I write, everything else becomes background noise and fades away. So I really can’t write and be present with anyone. And while I suppose I could plan to wake up at 4 in the morning and write before anyone else gets up… let’s just be real here…it’s just not a viable thing for me at this point in my life. I have trouble falling asleep at night, so getting up at 4 AM would only serve to make me a zombie. And I certainly don’t find my writing inspiration when I’m in a half awake state. So there’s that. 
But I think outside of that, a large part of why I haven’t written as much this year is because I have used it for so long as therapy, and maybe, I just haven’t needed it as much. Which is really good, right? 

But I know also that it’s not something I want to let fall away. It’s a big part of who I am, and still feels like it’s something of importance, and I believe it can still serve a purpose. Because even though it in large part served as a form of therapy that brought healing and clarity to me, it’s always been very much an offering, a way to help others find their way through whatever difficult path they are facing, a way to build a community of hope, and a way to give back some of the goodness that we’ve been blessed with. 

The flashbacks and triggers that once plagued me day in and day out are now few and far between. Occasionally though, something will pop up. Last week, it was a photo. Just as I was about to go to bed, Jeff came to me, with a pained look of concern on his face, very obviously reluctant to say what he needed to say to me.
– “So, I need to tell you about something. I debated whether to bring it up or not. I don’t want to. But I don’t know what to do about it and know you will probably see it. I’d rather you not have to see it at all but I decided it was better for me to tell you about it and see if you know how to fix it than for it to pop up in your newsfeed and you be mad at me for not warning you or have you think I wanted it there.” 

A friend and coworker of his had reposted a photo from her Facebook memories, and tagged him in it. The photo was of herself, and Jeff, and a small group of students from nursing school on a day trip to the state Capitol for a class they were taking. And there, in the pic with them was the woman Jeff had the affair with, and right behind her stood Jeff, peeking around her shoulder with a goofy grin on his face. 

I’m assuming the woman that posted it, although I’m sure she knew about Jeff’s affair, wasn’t aware of who the other woman was exactly or the fact that she was in that picture with them. She’s a sweet person and I truly don’t believe she would have tagged him in it if she had known. So I can’t blame her for it. But regardless of how or why it got there, it was staring me in the face and it took the breath right out of me the moment I saw it. In my mind, I’d seen them side by side a million times. But this. This was real life. Seeing them together, in an actual real life photo, well, it’s just not something I needed to see. I didn’t know a picture of the two of them together even existed, except for the graduating class photo from the year they graduated. They weren’t beside each other in that one and I haven’t seen it in years. But this one. This one was like a punch in the gut. They weren’t having an affair at the time that this photo was taken, but it was the beginning of their friendship. The bond was being formed, and you could clearly see it. The flirtation was there, and the foundation was being laid for the destruction to come. There they stood, his face right beside hers. And that ‘can’t breathe, stomach aching, heart racing, nausea inducing’ feeling of crushing anxiety washed over me in an instant. Hot tears that I didn’t even feel coming suddenly dripping from my chin. 

-“Please don’t be upset. I really didn’t want you to have to see it but I also didn’t want to hide anything from you. I just don’t know how to get rid of it and get it off my page.” 

I’m thankful for his honesty. It’s something that obviously wasn’t one of his strengths as the old Jeff. So I am grateful that it is prominent in the new version. But I have to say, that pic threw me for a loop. It showed me that though we are so far from the pain of those days, it’s still a lot closer and more present in my heart than I sometimes think. That even though a heart can heal so much, the memory of it all, no matter how deeply buried, can surface quickly, and if we aren’t careful, can set us back. 
So, yes, when I saw that photo, that pain shot right back to the surface like a volcano spewing hot molten lava burning a hole through my heart. So, I did what I’ve learned to do to get past it. I got quiet. I let it run it’s course. Because once the wound is open, ignoring it just gives it a chance to fester untended. I spent the next couple of hours lying awake, working through the sadness and anxiety and fighting the battle of letting the grief run it’s course and ridding my mind of the image now ingrained at the forefront. Drifting from heartache to numbness and back again, sifting through my thoughts to push that painful image out of sight. Praying it away, and making an effort to turn my thoughts to the present goodness and away from the pain of the past. Finally falling asleep from a weary exhaustion of mind, body and spirit. And the next morning, I got up, determined to not let that photo and those memories get the best of me. I chatted with a few of my support group friends. So thankful for those girls. Sometimes, you just need people that get it. People that can not only relate to what you are feeling, that can feel that depth of sadness in a way that only someone that’s been there can, and can not only encourage you and lift you up, but somehow even find a way to inject some humor into a very not funny subject and have you giggling by the end of the thread. I really, really love them. 

Anyway, I showed Jeff how to untag himself in that photo, then resolved to put it behind us, and enjoy our beautiful weekend at the lake. And that’s exactly what we did. 

So, yes, there are still occasional reminders, but mostly, our days are good. 

We’re in the in between. Far, far removed from the worst, but also aware that we haven’t fully arrived at our best. I’m somewhere in the middle, knowing where we came from, knowing what a good place we are in now, and knowing that because of that I can and should feel more secure, yet also still struggling to allow myself to actually REST in it. 

We are here in the pause. And I think it’s a necessary place. It’s where I am learning to be still. To just be present in the place we are in. Spending time with Jeff, with my girls, with my family and friends. Finding some sort of normalcy in our everyday lives. Spending less time looking back, but also not trying to look too far ahead. Allowing myself a quiet space of time to just be, and rest in the goodness of the here and now. 
There’s more to come. Of that I’m sure. Lessons to be learned, places to go, new memories to be made, people to meet, and books to be written. 

But for now, I’m content here in the pause. Resting. Healing. Growing. Finding our way. Finding some joy. Learning to relax a little. Learning to know the importance of the past and how it’s shaped us, and the importance of allowing God to use our lives and our story to bring hope to others, but not allowing what happened in the past to define or be the underwriting narrative to EVERY moment of our existence. Trying REALLY hard to remind myself that I don’t have to work so hard to stay two steps ahead of whatever might be coming because God’s already there. 

I’m just trying to enjoy the pause, letting the lessons and the goodness really settle in to my spirit, and do that deep quiet necessary work in my soul. I’ll just wait here in the pause for whatever comes next, and believe with all my heart that whatever that is, it’s gonna be really, really good. 
❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy 

Hope lives here

I’m stalling. I’ve been stalling for weeks, and I know it. I sit down and think about picking it up. I know I should. But nothing comes. Then I tell myself all the other things that need to get done. The clutter picked up. The piles of laundry. The dishes in the sink. 

No. I can do that later. I need to write something. Stop stalling. Stop making excuses.2 hours. I can spare 2 hours. 

Ok. Here I go. 

But still. Nothing. Not so much as the first word is popping into my head. 

I’ve got nothing. 

Then I hear it. The thought in the back of my head. ….“That’s not true. You’ve got stuff. You just don’t want to write about it.” 

Gah. Couldn’t I have just folded the laundry and let myself off the hook instead of smacking myself in the face with the truth? Nooo. That would be too easy. Easier than dealing with my truth.

So here it is. 
I’ve got stuff. Some things I deal with. But it’s really just the same stuff. You’ve heard it all before. Fears. Insecurities. Issues with trust. Control. You know, the regulars. 

And so in trying to write this post, my thought process went a little like this, (basically, ALL over the place) : 
-“Does this part of it, the inability to fully trust, ever truly lessen significantly or do you always think you’re doing better just to have it sneak up and slap you in the face again forever?”
-“Do I even have anything else to say? Or more importantly, do I have anything NEW to say?”
-“Hellooo God, are you gonna tell me what to write about or just leave me hanging here?”
-“Maybe I thought this was my calling, but maybe it just isn’t.”
-“Is anybody even reading these posts anymore?”
-“Is the laundry EVER completely done?”
-“Do you really want to keep telling everyone in the entire universe what goes on in your life and in your mind?”
-“Do you even want to tell this story anymore or just tuck it away and hope it becomes such a distant buried memory that you can nearly completely forget it?” 
Yep. I’ll admit it. I got issues. 
(Am I the only one hearing that Julia Michael’s song “I got issues” in my head now? 😂)

Fear. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Mostly it’s fear. Of so many things. 

Of being betrayed again. Of betraying myself by not seeing it before it’s too late. Of being so afraid of that happening that I sabotage the happiness of now. Of not having security. Of not knowing what comes next. Of not being enough. Of not losing the extra weight I’ve picked up. Of my blood pressure getting any higher. Of failing as a mom. Of writing a book. 

Of NOT writing a book. 

I sit for a minute. I hear Him say “Hope is the anchor.” Hmm. Maybe that wasn’t Him, I tell myself, maybe I just pulled that out of my mind because it’s the subject of the most recent series of sermons at my church. 
But one word stands out. THE. He didn’t say “Hope is an anchor”, or “Hope is my anchor.” I heard “Hope is THE anchor.” 

Ok. Alright then God. I’ll see where that leads me. 

Yes. Hope is my anchor. Hope has always been my anchor. Hasn’t it? I’m all about some hope right? The belief that no matter what, everything’s going to be ok. 

Yes. Sure. Hope is my anchor… I think?

And that’s when the little light comes on and shines itself directly all up into the dark little corners of my heart and says, “hey. See this stuff? Yeah. It’s still there. Maybe you want to think about dealing with that?”

Uh oh. 
IS hope my anchor? Is it what I cling to? Is it what I believe in? Is it what I’m living my life by? 

Or has something else taken it’s place?

Several times over the past few weeks, I’ve felt uneasy for reasons I literally don’t even know. 
You’d think by now I’d know the difference. The difference between an uneasiness that’s prompted by God to alert you of something you need to deal with or avoid or a danger ahead, and an uneasiness that’s not from God, and just a distraction to keep you stuck or drag you down. 

And I kind of do. I know the difference. But that’s where my fear kicks in and tries to make me second guess by throwing all the what if’s at me. “What if this is real? What if you ignore this feeling and you miss something?”

The fear of missing something, of not catching that something has gone wrong in time to fix it before it’s completely broken, it’s like a magnet that pulls me in. 

Sometimes I feel like I’m just stuck there. 

Trying to move forward, trying to let go of it, to break free of its hold on me. But the gravity, the crushing weight of that magnetic pull always pulling me back. 

Or is it? Is the fear holding me? Or maybe, just maybe, am I holding fear? 

I didn’t ask for the thing that brought this fear into my mind, my heart, my life. I didn’t invite it in. It’s a natural byproduct of what I’ve been through. And it didn’t just creep in. It crashed into and enveloped me in a fierce crushing wave, and instead of leaving when the storm subsided, it settled itself right in my heart and made itself at home.

But my life is good now.
I don’t wake up every morning anymore with visions of what Jeff did and questions of what life looks like for all of us when I divorce him. I don’t spend my days sick to my stomach at the thought of what they did. I don’t cry myself to sleep or wake up gasping for air because I feel as if I’m literally drowning. I don’t go lie in a sobbing heap on my bathroom floor because a crushing wave of sadness hits me out of nowhere as I’m chopping vegetables in my kitchen. 

That is not my life today. 
My life is full and good and all kinds of lovely. 

I wake up every morning with a man that treasures me. A man who gives me no real reason to ever doubt or question his devotion to me. Yet, I do. 

I continually question it, because I have a fear of being blindsided. Because I have fear of being deceived. Because I once lived a life believing it was one thing, when the reality of that life was not at all what I perceived and believed it to be. But I don’t live in that life now. I live with a man who hasn’t forgotten what it was like to lose me. A good and decent man. A man who doesn’t want to live that life, the life in which he betrayed me, and God, and himself, ever again.

Why is it so hard for me to just trust in that? 

One word. Fear.
Fear of rejection. Fear of pain. Fear of not having control. Fear of regret. Fear of being made a fool of. Fear of loss. 

Well, maybe there is something else too. Self protection. Defense mechanisms. 

Those two things aren’t always bad. They can be helpful, and sometimes even necessary. But there’s a fine line. A line that is crossed when you begin to LIVE from it. 

Too often, I cross that line.

Too often I live from that self protection. 

Too often I live from those defense mechanisms.

And much, much too often, I live from fear. 

It’s taken me some time to really see that. It’s taken me even longer to face it.

Does the fear hold me, or is it me holding too tight to the fear? 

I think, it’s a little bit of both. It’s a codependency.

I’ve become codependent with the fear.

I battle it, yet I also tend to feed it. I fight it, but I also use it as a source of self preservation. 

That’s not the self I really want to preserve. So it’s time me and fear have a little chat.

Dear fear,

This relationship between you and I really isn’t working out for me. I would say that’s it’s not you, it’s me. But truthfully, we both have contributed to this toxic relationship. It’s time for us to part ways. You’re just taking up too much space here. You cause issues with my real relationships. You keep me from the things I’m supposed to do, and the person I’m meant to be. So, I’m gonna have to break up with you now. 

Sincerely,                                                                  Amy

What are you living your life from? Not on the surface, but really, really deep beneath it? What, truthfully, is your anchor? 

Is it fear? Is it insecurity? Is it doubt or pain or anger? 

Maybe you need to write a hypothetical Dear John letter today to whatever it is that’s holding you back. 

And that’s just the start. Overcoming whatever it is that holds you, or whatever you are holding on to isn’t solved by making this one declaration. It’s something we have to continually work at. It’s a process of waking up every morning with gratitude for where we are, and countering all the negative thoughts that bombard us with God’s truth. Learning how to lean into discernment instead of paranoia. Learning to live in the goodness of today, and not let the circumstances of the past overshadow it. 

Learning how to enjoy the “It is”, instead of constantly worrying over the “what if’s”
This is where I have to admit to you that all of that is easier said than done. This is also the part where Jeff looks at me and says “You need to read your own blog. There’s some really good and helpful stuff in there, maybe you should listen to yourself.” Ha! 
It’s not easy. It’s a spiritual battle. It’s something that I can write about pretty easily because I can clearly see it and identify it and come to terms with it in my head. The truth is in there, but the actual application of it in our lives is where most of us tend to get stuck, myself included. 
You can’t get unstuck by just acknowledging that you’re stuck. You can’t get unstuck by just thinking through why you’re stuck or even what you need to do to get unstuck. The only way to get unstuck is to actually move. You have to apply the right thoughts and then take that course of action. And then, we just have to be a little more aware and careful of the places we drop our anchors. 

I don’t think my anchor has been completely entrenched in fear. I know it hasn’t, because there is SO much hope in our story. And because we have so much goodness and I can see the progress we’ve made in our marriage and in our lives. The bottom wasn’t an easy place to start from, but despite the difficulties , there’s been a LOT of beauty and joy and happy days. 
I think we’ve been moving forward, sailing ahead, but my anchor just keeps getting caught on the rocks and debris. It doesn’t bring us to a screeching halt but it does a pretty good job of keeping us from getting to where we are going. 

So that brings me back to the whole writers block situation. I told myself it’s because maybe I just didn’t have anything to say. But the truth is that I just didn’t want to say it. And the reason behind that was fear. Fear of being misunderstood or of being judged or of my words just not being anything meaningful to anyone. And there’s the fear of sharing my deepest hidden thoughts with basically the entire WORLD. I am here to tell you, being vulnerable like that is not for the faint of heart. But mostly the fear of facing the things that hold me back. 
I haven’t been writing my book. I did for a while, and then, I just stopped. Mostly because I’ve reached the part that gets into the hardest and most painful days of my life.  I’ve worked so hard to not let it take center stage in my thoughts, so to have to go through the process of writing it out, basically reliving those moments, I just haven’t been able to find the strength to face that challenge yet. I know I could do it. I could recite the story and be capable of separating myself from the pain of it, but I also feel that it’s important that I be able to tell it from that place of heartache, as authentically as I can, because that’s what people will connect with. It’s important that anyone reading it that is going through something similar, or through any kind of heartache, is able to read it and know that they aren’t alone in that place. 

I just have to find a way to be able to write from the recollection of that pain, without being drawn back into it, if that makes sense. Really, when it comes down to it, the procrastination of writing that chapter comes from that same root of fear. I’ve been afraid to face it, and I’ve allowed the fear to convince me that going there and writing out that part of the story will drag me back to a place in my mind I don’t want to be. If I keep telling myself that, then the book never gets written, the story never leaves the pages of this blog, and maybe someone who needs it, who needs the hope of our story, and the hope of God’s goodness, never sees it. And then fear wins. 

The truth is, I can do it. I just have to choose to make it happen. To push through the hard to reach the good, and finish the work set before me. I have to anchor myself in hope. Hope that everything will be ok. Hope that even if at anytime it suddenly isn’t, God will find a way to work things for my good. 

Hope is the thing that holds you steadily in place, yet also the thing that when lifted up, puts the wind in your sails and drives you forward. 

Hope is THE anchor. 

The ONLY anchor.

Anything else is just an anvil pulling you down. 
Fear knocks on the door of all of our hearts everyday. Sometimes it’s just an annoying tap, and other times it beats so hard that it seems the door could cave in. May we all learn to answer that knock with this reply:
“This is not your home. Hope lives here, and there’s no room for anything else.”

💗

Amy Thurston Gordy

The Falling away

It’s the first official day of Fall. It’s still pretty hot here in Georgia, but you can feel it coming. You can feel it in the crispness of the cooler air early in the morning, and in the dusk that sets in just a little earlier at the end of every day. It used to be my favorite time of the year. It brought a cool breeze. It brought beautiful warm colors. It brought the ability to throw on cozy sweaters and jeans. It brought warm comfort foods and everything pumpkin. It brought bonfires and roasted marshmallows and Saturday night football viewing parties. Don’t get confused, I know y’all know I really don’t care about the football games. I’m just there for the snacks and the company, yeah, mostly the snacks. Ha. 

But I CAN tell you which team will win the game with at least 95% accuracy, based on my personally developed “super scientific uniform theory”. I kid you not. This is a real thing. Basically, I pick the winning team based on the uniform they are wearing. The colors, the fit, the presentation, I take it all into account, all the way from the helmet down to the shoes. Laugh if you want, Jeff certainly doubted my “super scientific theory” too. Until he saw how many times I was right! I guess that’s a little off subject. So I’ll get back to what I was saying. Y’all just let me know if you want me to choose a winner for ya. 😂

Fall still brings all of those things. But two years ago, Fall brought me something else. Something that would change life as I knew it forever. Well, in reality, that one Fall day didn’t alter the course of my life. The day Jeff first entertained the thought of becoming involved with her is the day that my life changed forever. My world was dismantled bit by bit with every thought, every text, every conversation, every meeting between the two of them over the course of that year. So that particular September day was not the one day my world was destroyed, it was just the day that I came to the full realization of it. 

Last year, I struggled a lot with it. The triggers were everywhere. The thoughts and memories sometimes overwhelming. Because that same crispness in the air that I used to love so much was the same crisp air that I ran out into to try and catch my breath on that awful day. Because those football games reminded me of the one he was getting ready to go watch when I saw those messages on his phone that were proof of his betrayal. 

This year, it doesn’t have as strong of an effect. I can’t say the anniversary of that day hasn’t affected me at all. I still had some level of anxiety about it. But it was more of an annoying quiet hum than the load roar that it used to be. 

Last year, I had wanted to plan something to mark the day. Something to try and give it new meaning, and new memories. This year, I didn’t feel as strongly about it. Earlier in the year I bought tickets to go to a Kari Jobe concert. When I saw the announcement for the concert, and saw that it was local and just happened to be on September 10th, I figured what better way to spend that evening than filling it with worship music? I figured that would be a good way to drown out any negative feelings that crept in that day. 

As it turned out, D-day came and went without leaving much of a footprint this year. September 10th fell on a Sunday. We got up and went to church as usual. We went to lunch together , just the two of us. Jeff was actually the one to bring it up. “So, today’s our happy anniversary I guess? Well, more of an unhappy anniversary? But happy because we survived. And because our lives are so much better now than they were.”

And that was the extent of our acknowledgment of the day. As it turned out, the concert, which I had actually forgotten about until that afternoon, was cancelled last minute because of Hurricane Irma’s impending arrival. So we stayed home, cozy on our sofa with bowls of chili and watched some tv. 

I guess my feelings kind of go back and forth on what this day should be. A part of me wants to fill it up with new things and new memories to give it new meaning. But another part wants to let it pass with no acknowledgment at all. To take its power away by making it just another day on the calendar. 

I think the reality will fall somewhere between the two. Because in reality, I’ll most likely never forget the date, so it will always be acknowledged in some way. But I never want it to be in a way that glorifies the ugliness of that day, or gives those memories the power to ruin my present day. Because September 10th, 2017, is not September 10th, 2015. And September 10th, 2018 and every September 10th after that won’t be either. That day is gone. It happened, and we can’t change it. And every year, though the date may be the same, our lives are not the same. So we will acknowledge it, but only with a sense of gratitude of the goodness that we live in now, and that we have put one more year in between us and that terrible time in our lives. 

When I think about it, it’s kind of fitting that this day happened in the Fall. 

We don’t necessarily think about it, because it can be so deceivingly beautiful, but in essence, Fall is a process of death. The vibrant green trees slowly fade to warm shades of yellow, orange, and red. They look so lovely on the outside, that we don’t often think about what might be happening on the inside. 

Slowly, the colorful leaves begin to loosen, and one by one, fall to the ground. There’s only a few at first, so we just walk through them, hearing them crunch under our feet but not really giving them much thought. But as the wind gets stronger, the dying leaves become weaker, and suddenly they are everywhere, covering the ground. Smothering the grass beneath them. 

Hiding the walkways and covering the paths that we could once see clearly. 

It is messy, this falling away. And once the leaves have all fallen, the trees look painfully bare. The falling away is followed by a season of emptiness. Or at least that’s the way it seems. But it is the Fall, the shedding of the old, that makes way for the new. It’s a painful process. There’s no getting around that. But it’s the only way to shed what no longer belongs. To get rid of the diseased leaves. To reset. So that when the Spring comes, and it always comes, there’s nothing hindering its growth. And what grows from those empty branches is fuller, and more beautiful than what it was before. So much stronger than it was before the falling away. 

The seasons of life can be painful. But there is beauty in all of it. Even in the falling away. Even in the dead of the barren winter. Because it’s making way for the beauty of Spring, and the fullness of Summer. Some years it brings varying levels of death and life. Sometimes the changes are small, and we come through it mostly unscathed, barely even noticing that the seasons changed, and other times, the changing of the seasons of our lives is so sudden and so devastating that we wonder if the winter will ever end. 

Don’t lose hope. Spring is coming. It always comes. And in the meantime, look for the beauty in the season you’re in. It’s there. It’s always there. 

When the spring comes, you’ll be stronger. You’ll be fuller. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Yes, there may be losses to mourn. You’ll certainly never be the same. You may bear the scars of the storms you weathered through the winter. But that will be what sets you apart. It will be your mark of the goodness of God. A symbol of how we can survive bad things. How the storms can wound us, but that those wounds can heal. A symbol of how all that we know can fall away, lost forever, but that something beautiful can grow in its place. 

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

The Bigger Picture

I’m beginning to see it, the bigger picture. The bigger picture, in the every day, in the little moments, it’s something we cannot see.

In the moments of pain, of sorrow, of grief. In the moments of disappointment, we just can’t see it. We can’t understand why. We can’t possibly understand what purpose this incredible pain could have. And as I did, so often we find ourselves asking those seemingly unanswerable questions. The ones I’ve written about so much in my blogs. The ones I’ve found myself searching, desperate for the answers to. 

The questions of why. 

Why did this happen to me? 

And so often we find ourselves not only feeling heartbroken that God didn’t stop it, but angry. Angry that he allowed this thing we didn’t feel we deserved to happen to us. Angry that he didn’t use His almighty power to save us from this misery. And questioning why He didn’t love us enough to spare us this heartache. 
His answer to that question is that He couldn’t possibly love us more. His love for us is infinite and pure. But just because He loves us doesn’t mean He will always step in. 

Could he? Yes. He most definitely could. 

But does He always choose to? No. 

And we want to understand why. 
I’ve asked all of those questions. And for a long time I’ve believed that they don’t have an answer. But over the past few weeks I’ve come to realize that they do. 

The answer is the bigger picture. The one we can’t see. 

But He sees it. 
Jeremiah 29:11 says that He knows the plans He has for me, and that they are for good. 
The reason why He allowed life as I know it to be destroyed, the reason He allowed my heart to be shattered, is because He could see the bigger picture. He could see that the pain of that tearing down would allow something better to be built up in its place. He could see that by the testimony of our story, countless others would find hope and healing, and that they would see Him. 
Someone told me many years ago that God told them to tell me to read the story of Joseph. That I should read it because God saw me as he saw him, and our lives were very similar. I was intrigued, because what I remembered of Joseph didn’t stand out as anything I saw mirrored in my life at the time. 
So I read about Joseph. I read of how he was highly favored. I read of how he was mistreated, and how he was betrayed by the very people that were supposed to love him the most. The people he should have been able to trust. And I read of his forgiveness for those people. And how God took everything that was meant for his harm to bring blessings to his life. To put him in places he never dreamed he would be. To put him in a position to help others. 

I read all of that and… 

I. did. not. understand. 

I thought surely this person was mistaken. 

I was NOT AT ALL like Joseph. 

No one I loved had hurt me. I couldn’t imagine that anyone I loved would ever betray me the way he was betrayed. No one would toss me in a pit and then make me a slave, throwing away my very sense of self, everything that made me who I am. That kind of thing doesn’t happen to me. There must be some mistake, I thought. That message wasn’t for me. 

And so for all these years, I’d had that tucked away. Certain it had nothing to do with me. 
The story of Joseph has come back up in my mind on several occasions lately. Most recently in Cindy Beall’s new book. 

(Y’all should get that, by the way. “Rebuilding a marriage better than new”. You can order it on Amazon😄)

I know it was not by mistake that she included this story, I know that it was confirmation of what God has been speaking to me over the past few weeks. She wrote about the story of Joseph and how loved he was by God. She wrote about how God did not intervene and allowed all of the terrible things to happen to him. And she wrote about how God redeemed Joseph’s story. How He freed him from slavery and put him in a position of influence that he never would have imagined. How everything bad that happened was used for the good of Joseph, his family, and so many others. She wrote about how if Joseph had not gone through all those painful things, he would never have ended up in the position that he did, where he was able to bring so much goodness to so many. 
And now I see it. That story, Joseph’s story, it was not a mistake. It WAS meant for me. 
Jeff betrayed me. And I found myself in a virtual pit. A pit filled with despair, sadness, anger, self doubt, and fear. 

What he did made me a slave. A slave to anxiety, fear, depression, post traumatic triggers, sadness, insecurity, uncertainty and doubt. 

And it all seemed so wrong. So incredibly unfair. 
But just as God allowed these things to happen to Joseph, he allowed bad things to happen to me. Not because He didn’t love me. Not because He didn’t want to spare me the heartache. His heart ached too. And just as He was with Joseph, He never left me. He saw me through that heartache. He cried with me in that pit. And just as He did with Joseph, he’s used this awful experience to bring goodness to my life. To bring goodness to my marriage. And He is using my story to help others. So that others can see His goodness and His faithfulness and His love. So that others can see how He makes all things new. 
Joseph had a choice. He could choose to let his situation take the very best of him. He could choose to be defeated. He could choose to drown in the misery of the sea of “why me’s?”. 

Or he could choose to trust that there was a bigger picture. He could choose to trust that he would see the goodness of God. That the goodness of God would find him, even there, in that pit of despair. 

Joseph chose to believe God had his best interest in mind, he chose to believe in the bigger picture. 

I’m choosing to believe there is a bigger picture for me too. 
There is a purpose in my pain. God will not waste a single one of my tears. He is redeeming my story, and He will redeem yours too. Yours may look different than mine, but in His way, in the way He knows will be the best for you and the good of others, you can count on the fact that it will be redeemed. 
We may not understand it, and we may not see it yet, but He sees it. 

The bigger picture. 

And it’s so much bigger than our minds can even fathom. 
His love for us is endless. His mercy and grace for us is matchless. 
We can’t be assured that we aren’t going to have pain and heartache in our lives. But we can be sure that He knows the bigger picture. He knows the plans He has for us. And they are always, always good. 

We can trust Him. 

This revelation has brought me so much peace. I hope it brings you some peace too. ❤️
Amy Thurston Gordy