Him. Not You.

Liz and I tried out a fitness class that was a combination of weight training and yoga.  During the weights portion, the instructor asked everyone to say two interesting facts about themselves. 

When it came to my turn, I said, “I am from Washington, DC.”

“Oh!  What are you doing here?” She responded.  “You poor thing.” 

I laughed (I get that a lot) then began the simple version of the story, “I married a man from Oklahoma...”

“My brother!” Liz chimed-in.

“...Yep!  And he is in military training right now, to be an Army Ranger, so I’m staying with his family while he trains.”

“Well...” the instructor condescended, “That is an interesting fact about him.  Not you.” 

If you could have seen my inner-life at that moment, what you would have observed in the span of one deep breath is the elegant, dignified Christina, standing strong and smiling graciously with one arm stretched out to restrain the flailing, vicious “girl-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks” version of me who happened to be shouting, “Let me at that B*$#h’s hair!”   

“Actually,” I said, “That was just answering the question ‘What are you doing here?’  The second interesting fact about me is that I have a green belt in Tae Kwon Do.”   

The Room With the Ottoman, Next to the Divorce Building

I have a suspicion that around here, the hotels jack-up their prices when there's a big event happening, like the graduation of 208 new soldiers fresh out of boot camp.  The best deal I could find online was at the EconoLodge, which feels a lot like staying in a barrio.  Several rooms have their doors wide open with a bunch of hispanic men standing on the balcony chatting, keeping watch over their construction trucks.

Next to the EconoLodge, a giant commercial sign reads "DIVORCE", with an arrow that points to the shady building.  Sort of a satyrical "Welcome to the Army" sign.  We are 1/4 of a mile from the main gate to the United States Army, Fort Benning.  Two days from now, my husband will officially be a soldier.  I'm here to see that happen before I go back to a few more months of not seeing him while he goes through advanced training.  Then, after that, we can live in the same place again.    

I've been preparing myself as much as someone can prepare themselves for something that they know very little about.  I've been told that the divorce rate is high in the Army, but I'm not too concerned.  It can't be worse than the divorce rate of young evangelical couples fresh out of ORU, and yet here we are!  Here WE are, anyway... those sweet, naive kids we were when we first married have long since evolved into the 'us' that will reunite at Fort Benning in the morning after months of separation.  About halfway through boot camp, we realized that our marriage is now like a tree that survived the 2007 Oklahoma Ice-pocalypse.  If it couldn't withstand devastation, it'd have died already.  Every weak limb has snapped right off (or is ready to be taken off) and what is left is completely alive, vital and stronger than hell.

It doesn't mean the Army will be easy for us, though.  Arriving here still makes me a little trepidatious.  For a moment, I felt nervous that perhaps the worse version of what I expect this to be like will be true and that the next few years of my life will be something that I will describe as 'enduring'.  Then, on the way back to the EconoLodge Barrio after dinner, I saw in the distance a lit billboard that simply said, "Trust God".  I got choked-up with hope.  Then, I was amused at myself for responding that way, because if I saw the same billboard in Tulsa, I'd have scoffed at it for being hokey or something.  But then I realized I'd never seen a billboard like it in Tulsa.  All the ones in Tulsa are "witty" and/or have the name of a church under the message.  This one wasn't, and didn't.  It was not an advertisement.  Just a message.  One that called me to lay down my pride against religious billboards, and all of my selfish pride -while I'm at it- and embrace hope and grace in whatever form it comes in.    

In my hotel room, here at the EconoLodge Barrio, there is an ottoman that functions as the perfect altar to kneel down and pray.  I've recently started praying on my knees again.  It brings me home, wherever I am.  It's peaceful in my room now.

Whatever I will eventually describe the next few years of my life as, I know it will be described as a time that I prayed on my knees a lot.  And I've added to my list of ways to prepare for this, "Find a good ottoman."    
          

Tragedy

After my own challenging youth followed by years of walking with dozens of other youths and their families through their enormous challenges, more personal drama and now accepting the fact that my husband has a dangerous job that keeps him far away for large chunks of time, I'm finding I don't react to news of tragedy like I used to.  Like a normal person does.  There's very little that can devastate me at this point, or make me feel a sense of personal loss.  I prefer to think it's because I'm growing fearless, rather than numb.  


If it were numbness, then I suppose I wouldn't feel this sense of compassion and grace for those who are afraid and grieving.  But the catch is that I have to realize how serious things are and convey that I know this, instead of coming across as flippant or detached.  The serene look on my face when you tell me that the next door neighbor died does not mean I am detached.  It means I know that he was very old and did a lot more surviving than dying.  

About Courage

Courage is not fluffy.  I'm learning that if you choose to have courage in life,  you will find yourself in situations that are truly shitty.  Perhaps the things you dreaded, the worst case scenario, will come true.  But when you get to that point, you may realize that your cells stay intact, the involuntary nature of breathing is in your favor and there is more light than you imagined there would be when you thought it would be all that bad.  This is when you find yourself in a dance with the devastation of failure and the awareness of being completely alive.  You're caught off guard by the beautiful moments you never saw coming, filled with people and things you never knew you could love.   Eventually, what you hoped courage would lead you to, your dreams, find their way to you, all at once or trickling down in droplets, and you meet yourself.  The fully You who no longer pretends.  No longer needs to.    

She Was Alive.

When the iPhone struck midnight, they all raised their glasses up, down, in, out and chug!  They had created together, accomplished together, and now they celebrated together, their project and her birthday.

He wouldn't tell her what the shot was, this mystery Birthday shot.  He didn't have to.  He was a true character in her life, one whom she once believed to be her nemesis, since, grown to see him as a trustworthy friend.  Someone who could buy her, Little Miss Lightweight, a Birthday shot, not tell her what it was and she'd down it.

She did.  Or tried to, anyway.  Turns out it was Jamison.  She drank it in three tries, spilling maybe a quarter of it all over the place as they all sang her Happy Birthday.  Next thing she would know, she and the room would be spinning together as another friend twirled her around, leading her in dance.  Then, the next thing after that would be that she... that all of them... were dancing on the table tops.

If It Be Your Will

Last month, a friend posted a clip on facebook from the Leonard Cohen documentary "I'm Your Man".  Antony is singing this song, "If It Be Your Will".  I'd never heard it before, but I've heard it so many times since.  I don't like it as much when Leonard Cohen sings it himself, but this version that Antony sings causes something inside me to look up as if someone has called it by name.  Like roll call in the classroom of a favorite teacher, my soul responds, "Here."

If it be your will 
That I speak no more 
And my voice be still 
As it was before 
I will speak no more 
I shall abide until 
I am spoken for 
If it be your will 

If it be your will 
That a voice be true 
From this broken hill 
I will sing to you 
From this broken hill 
All your praises they shall ring 
If it be your will 
To let me sing 
From this broken hill 
All your praises they shall ring 
If it be your will 
To let me sing 

If it be your will 
If there is a choice 
Let the rivers fill 
Let the hills rejoice 
Let your mercy spill 
On all these burning hearts in hell 
If it be your will 
To make us well 

And draw us near 
And bind us tight 
All your children here 
In their rags of light 
In our rags of light 
All dressed to kill 
And end this night 
If it be your will 

If it be your will.  

New Digs

Getting situated in our new temporary set-up at Josh's parents' house.  We're in the bedroom that was his from age 13-18, only now its got our stuff in it.  Very cozy.  Bonding with the family dog, Grace, as our cat, Louie, explores the largest space he's ever had, a large 4 bedroom house on 2.5 acres.   I'm loving my new juicer, currently sipping on some spinach, beet, carrot and apple.  Getting ready to start a compost bin in the backyard.  This evening I plan to try the pole dancing aerobics class down the street, and next week, plant pansies in the garden.