God hides under the kitchen table for 35 years?

Heidi Esther’s negative-ninny mind has got her cornered again. How is she supposed to live when she feels like – she’s – a mistake? She finds an answer under the kitchen table…

8 years ago in a treehouse

I blew my nose in the last kleenex. I sat in a dark corner of my bedroom, my arms hugging my knees. Across from me: a wall of windows. The day was bright. My view was shaded, showing a lush, leafy vista. I pulled my hoodie strings tighter around my head. 

35. Alone. Divorcing. A Failure. 

(sleeve-wipe) 

I had it all:  A perfect middle-class American life. And I had to ruin it all. I felt unhappy. And unsafe. I did all of this because of feelings? 

(take out journal, still on floor)

Dear God, 

Yea. I’m talking to you. Remember me? I don’t have enough for my kids. I don’t have a clue how to afford Christmas, let alone college. Is that what you wanted? My kids don’t get college? Okay, that wasn’t polite. And passive-aggressive. I didn’t mean that. Sorry. 

So, to continue, I had it all: 2 toy rooms, an extra freezer, and an attached garage. But, what you’re really telling me is that’s not the “all” I need to be looking for?

NOW, I’m a divorced, working mom. It sounds like I’m dealing with Sad and Angry a lot, paycheck-to-paycheck. Which is true. But, dear God, when will this end? How many sad-mad poems will I have to write to get rid of this awful feeling?

The awful feeling: So, why the hell would you create me gay? And wait OVER THREE DECADES to tell me? Did you want me to be a lesbian mom? Is that it? Hello God? Do you still have my back? 

God has my back: One year before

My eyes stung as I got Mr. Coffee ready. My stomach: acid empty from being up all night. My Alice makeup smeared from my daughter’s 4th Mad Hatter Tea birthday party the day before. My makeup remover is in the master bath; I slept in the guest bedroom.

What did I just do? Did I just tell my husband I wanted a divorce? I knew that’s what I needed to do. Like deep down. Absolute. But, what am I going to do NOW? I’m making a mess of my life, my kids’ lives. 

I slipper-shuffled over to the kitchen table. Yes, the same table Mark and I sat and “talked” about divorce a couple of hours before.  An overnight of evasive and loaded questions and answers. Soul-crushing. 

That’s when I noticed it. A light-blue business card under the table. Well, that wasn’t there before. My robed arm picked it up. It read: 

Hello, 
this is God. 
I’ll be handling all of your problems today. 
Have a miraculous day. 

Back in the treehouse

I looked up to the green canopy from beneath my hood. 

I set down my notebook and grabbed the worn business card out of my back pocket. I felt its thousand imperfect creases with my thumb.

So, God. You got me set up as a human meant to shepherd two little ones while eating more frozen pizzas, wearing more ties, and giving less Christmas presents than usual. Okay.

And for now, I know that your sun, your light is there whenever I can drag my soul out of the shade.

Thanks, as always, for listening.

POEM: teddy bear

Laying here,
curled around teddy: 
a fuzzy reminder of 
Trust in your presence,
Comfort in your Love,and
Hope in your patient ear. 
Tearfully grateful. 
Breathing, slowly, finally,
after years of suffocation.
Thank you, God. 

The SoulJourner QUESTion

Faith. So many people say they just know. Or they have always had it. I had to have it physically shown to me via the business card. I still have no logical explanation of how it landed on my kitchen floor. 

PROMPT: Was there a time you can pinpoint in which your faith was born? Can you share about your experience – or frustration – with faith?  Or was it packaged in a specific religion, and you’ve had a hella time trying to unravel the two? What has been your journey to or from belief?