Stitching My Scarf

I am struggling with a burden I shouldn’t be carrying.

Someone I know hurt me with her words and I felt tossed aside and grace-robbed. I quietly began to tend my gaping wound. I begged God to put stitches in it, and He did.

But before He could finish, I took the needle and thread from His hands. I kept stitching on my own and created a woolly, heavy scarf.

I stopped stitching my wound for healing and started stitching for self-protection and to justify my anger for this woman. She hurt me! She went after me like a predator! So every time I remembered that wound, I slipped on another stitch. Every time I heard her name, another stitch. Every time I heard how she wounded someone else, another stitch.

I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been stitching for almost two years now. Two years!

My scarf is unnecessarily immense and I keep gleefully adding stitches, simply for the sake of knitting and not for practicality. Here’s the thing about scarves: they’re good for winter, for protection from cold. But in summer, they are stifling and can put us in danger of strangulation.

God is helping me see the absurdity of wearing a scarf in summer. He’s asking me to allow Him to unravel some stitches by showing me what forgiveness looks like. The theme keeps appearing in conversations, texts from friends, books I’m reading, and songs on the radio. At first, I bristled at the idea of forgiveness. Wouldn’t that make what she did right?

“No,” God says. “Forgiveness doesn't invalidate your hurt or sanction her attack on you! I won't unravel and erase your hurt, and I won't negate what she did to you. But could we make this garment into a shield of protection for you instead of a scarf that strangles you? Can you remember that I alone will cover you and hold you? Take off your scarf and let me heal you.”

Very intentionally, through prayer and submission, I’m asking God to take the needle and thread from my hands. I’m asking Him to transform my scarf into a simple scar. A scar reminds me wounds are real, but a scar won’t choke me like a scarf could.

Stitches are for wounds and garments. The healing my heart needs is the kind that comes from Light shining in my darkness, not the healing that comes from a needle and thread.

Healing in a Target Parking Lot

Almost six years ago (5 years and about 11 months, to be exact), I wrote a blog post about forgiveness. It was a huge step for me to forgive this person, J, who had deeply hurt me, and the blog post I wrote was a catharsis for me. The physical act of writing the post was the culmination of the emotional act of forgiving J, and posting it enabled me to truly forgive and let go of the pain.

I didn’t forget the pain, but it hurt less after I forgave. When J would come to mind, over time I felt less and less vinegary toward him. I remember the day I got a Facebook friend request from him. It took me a full 24 hours of prayer and pondering before I was able to accept the request, but I did it. Then I started running into his wife at stores around town. It wasn’t awful, and I was even able to be friendly to her. But in the back of my mind, I always wondered what would happen if I actually ran into HIM.

Late last year, I got the news on Facebook that J was fired from the same ministry where we worked together. I reached out to him, told him I could relate (and not in a mean way, I promise!), and reminded him of his value in God’s eyes – and not because of his employment, but because of God’s gracious adoration of us. J shocked me with his response, asking me to forgive him for how he was involved when I lost my  job, and even admitted that he wanted to reach out to me back when it happened but felt his job would be in jeopardy if he did. I replied that I had forgiven him a long time ago, but his asking for my forgiveness meant more to me than I could explain. It was beautiful and courageous on both our parts to move past our shared history.

Still, I wondered every now and then how I might react when/if I ever saw him in person. And… I found out tonight!

The funny part is I was shopping at Aldi and saw a woman who looked a lot like J’s wife. I realized it wasn’t her, and then thought to myself (as I have many times before), God, when are you going to make THAT happen in my life? And I chuckled inwardly, not realized God was chuckling right alongside me.

Because about 20 minutes later, I was pulling into the Target parking lot and saw his wife walking toward their car. She was following a man I realized was J, and there was a child too. I made the split second decision to honk and wave at her, knowing that would invite interaction which would lead to me seeing J, face-to-face. As I parked and stepped out of my car, I said out loud to myself, “Okay, God…” and then I did something the 2008 Elizabeth would not have done:

I embraced the person who wronged me. And, man! It felt good!

I asked them both about their lives, and they asked about mine. We listened to each other and I felt like we genuinely cared about each other’s answers. I asked how his job search has been going, since I have been off Facebook and wouldn’t know. He told me he’s been working a part time retail job, and also started a home improvement business on the side with another pastor (he’s a pastor too). That was NO coincidence, since my neighbor had been asking me just yesterday if I know of any contractors who could fix a leak in her roof. And guess who does that? Yep, my old boss J! I got his contact info (which I have already passed along), and then talk turned to our former employer. He said he was glad to get out alive, and I told him I could relate. But I said as painful as the departure was, I am grateful that God brought me through it. The pain was used to bring me to a point where I could surrender to Jesus, even though some of the pain still haunts me today. (Literally, today at my current job I had a fear bubble up that I know comes from that specific position and firing I went through.)

I needed to say these words to J’s face. As much as I feel like he needed to hear them to understand my forgiveness, I needed to say them as a way to place that pain in its final resting place. It’s buried. It’s gone. And there is no longer weeping at the graveside! Instead, my weeping has turned into dancing because it’s another instance in my life where God has turned “into good what you meant for evil.” (Genesis 50:20) It’s another signpost in my life of God keeping His promises and granting me the beautiful perspective of seeing how He can truly redeem the unforgiveable.

As I drove home, I smiled and thanked God for giving me that gift tonight. I gave Him the glory and said, “You did this, God!” And, immediately, I heard His response in my head: “But you LET me.”

That’s when I realized truth: God did it, but it couldn’t be completed until I surrendered and let His way become my way. He is gracious and gentle because He modeled forgiveness to me, but that only goes so far until I take the conscious step to choose His way over my own.

I think it’s nothing short of extraordinary that God has painstakingly worked on this lesson in my heart for THIRTEEN years. I pray I can remember the waiting is as much a part of the change as the actual end result.

God, I am humbled tonight that You allow me such sacred glimpses into Your heart. Thank You for seeing me as valuable and worth rescuing. Thank You for not leaving me in the pit of bitterness and anger I used to live in [and, let’s not kid ourselves, some days I go visit it still]. You lived in it with me, and then climbed out and threw a rope down to help me climb out, too. Over many years You put people in my life who could demonstrate surrender and release to me, which dismantled my resentment without me even realizing it. I didn’t realize You were changing me, but You never stopped Your relentless remodeling of my heart. Oh, thank You, God! I am so glad I am Yours. Amen.

This makes me wonder: what other remodeling projects is He working on even right this minute that I haven’t noticed quite yet?!

Innocence and Solid Faith

I was driving today and Katie asked, “Mommy, why are all the flags halfway down the poles?” (President Obama ordered all U.S. flags at half staff April 16-20 to honor the victims of the Boston Marathon bombings.)

Her question took me off guard because I had not yet considered telling my kids about the bombings. So I gingerly explained to her, “Some bad things happened in our country a few days ago.” She responded, “Oh, yeah, in Texas and in Boston.”

Surprised that she knew about the news, I asked her “What do you know about Texas and Boston?” She said, “There was a fire [in West, TX] and also something in Boston.”

I said, “Yes, that’s right. There was a big fire in Texas, and in Boston there was something very sad.” I explained to her and Jackson what the Boston Marathon is, and how it’s an elite race and lots of people go to watch it. I explained how someone wanted to hurt people and they put two bombs at the finish line. We talked about how people were hurt and even killed. I told them one of the people who died was a kid. They were shocked and said, “I bet their family misses that boy and will miss him forever.” Jackson then said, “If I died, you would miss me too.” I assured him we would and tried to push the thought of that out of my head.

Tonight, one of the bombing suspects was killed and the other was captured. At Katie’s bedtime, I told her the police caught the bomber. She was relieved. I said, “Yes, it’s good news. They caught the man who hurt those people.”

And then my heart caught in my throat when she said, “God still loves him too.” She said it so assuredly and confidently.

I responded, “Yes. Not very many people are happy with him, but you’re right: God still loves him.”

She said, “I doubted he is a follower of Jesus.” I said, “No, I don’t think so.” And she finished with, “When you follow Jesus you don’t hurt people like that.”

Oh, my heart! This sweet girl of mine has such innocence, and also such faith in her Father who loves ALL of us: those who try to follow Him, and even those who bomb and hurt and kill. At age nine, she grasps the idea that God loves us in spite of our evil and sinfulness. She doesn’t hesitate in that knowledge; it is as natural and second-nature to her as breathing.

God, please protect my daughter’s reflexive love for You. Continue to cultivate her heart. One day her innocence will fall away, and I pray that you build a strong foundation in her heart so she will rely on Your strength even – and especially – then. Amen.

Let Me Clarify

Before we go any further, apparently some clarification is necessary after my last post. Feel free to go read it so you don't feel like you're missing something. Yes, I'll wait. Go on...

Okay, now that you know what I'm talking about... or what I am NOT talking about! So let's clarify it a bit and fill in the holes.

First up, NO, there was not any sort of cheating or lying or badness in my marriage. That is not what that post was referring to. (Somehow, some friends thought I was alluding to that.) And, yes, I am still a Christ follower. And I am still employed at my new job. And, yes, unfortunately, I am still an idiot. Now let me explain.

If you know anything about me in real life (or even by just reading my blog), you know I am, well... let's be honest here: I am a computer addict. My personal laptop was a Christmas gift in 2009. I was so happy to own it that I even gave it a name. I started relying on my computer - literally - as half of my brain. I do everything on the computer. I have my grocery list on the computer. (It is organized in sections that correlate to my local grocery store, so I can get shop! efficiently!) I have all my genealogy research on the computer. I have emails dating back years, including the last ones my dead brother, mother and father sent me. I have Christmas gift lists (given and received) dated from the year I got married to the present. Over 3,000 songs in my music library, recipes, a list of every book I've read, financial records, an Excel spreadsheet full of amazing quotes I've come across, and the start of a book I'm writing. Microsoft Outlook does the thinking for me when it comes to birthdays and anniversaries and planning my calendar out for the entire next year. Outlook also stores every single address for long-lost relatives and fellow White Castle Hall of Famers, as well as notes and the emails I mentioned above.

I wrote that entire preceding paragraph as if it were still present-tense. However, that is not the case. Five days before I wrote my last post, I lost E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G on my computer. For someone who treats her computer as an extension of her very own body, here's where the idiot mistake comes in: I did NOT back it up.

Let me stop here and expound for a moment: I am sure some of you reading this blog are now thinking, "Dude, whatever! You are a pansy, Elizabeth!" You think losing computer data is really no big deal. It's just information and ones and zeroes, right? Technically, yes. But for me, it's much more than that. And here's why I wrote this in my last post: "The mistake colored my faith, my marriage, my confidence, my everything this week."


Losing my computer colored my faith because it hit me right between the eyes how very much worth I put in a stupid piece of electronics. Since I am being brutally honest, I must admit that my computer has become an idol for me. Not an Idol with a big "I" (because I truly don't feel like I put it before Christ), but it's definitely an idol with a little "i." That's a hard thing to admit, and I'm ashamed to say my computer has been a higher priority sometimes than my husband, my children, my health, and my personal joy. Some days I spend more time with it than I do with those I love. Typing that sentence humiliates me and fills me with regret. When did I stop using the computer as a tool and start letting it become my brain?

Losing my computer also colored my marriage. I was so horrified by everything I lost on my computer that I was out of my mind and lashed out at Dan. He was having his own struggles and lashed back. It made for a dark fight, the kind we haven't had in years. It's hard to find your footing after that, but we extended grace and forgiveness to each other and are moving forward.

Losing my computer shook my confidence. In the midst of a hard month when I am trying to find my balance with my old job (being a mom) and my new job (administrative assistant) and learning to solidify boundaries and redefine my routines and my life, I lost one of the major tools that keeps me grounded. Remember how I talked about my Outlook calendar being responsible for dates and reminders? I rely on it to tell me when bills are due, and then I log in to a company website to pay said bills. But when I have no idea what bills are due when, much less WHAT password to use to log in (because the passwords were lost too!), it makes the world a little wobbly. You how some days you have a feeling that you're forgetting something, and how you feel "off" all day? Imagine me feeling that way since February 8, the day I handed my computer over to be fixed. And throw in a new job and Jackson's new school and new routines, and now you have a small idea of why losing my computer was a big deal.

So, enough with the justification and explanation. Here are the silver linings of the situation:

1) I didn't lose my photos. Since I take so darn many, I started storing them on an external drive a year or two ago. Thank God I didn't lose those!

2) Last October, I made another bonehead mistake that has actually turned out to be a blessing. I was trying to backup files on an external drive but accidentally deleted them instead. I bought software and was able to recover the files onto that external drive, then copy them onto my laptop again. All I have left now is whatever was on that external drive that was last updated six months ago. It doesn't include Outlook contacts, notes, emails or my calendar, but at least it's something. The bad news is that I lost six months of work, but the good news is that I still have a place to start. Silver lining: when you make a mistake, sometimes it turns out to be a GREAT thing.

3) No one stole my computer, which is a blessing. I kept financial information on there which, if stolen, could have ruined my credit and identity. I'm glad it was "just" a crash and not a theft.


4) I have gained perspective on life. In the grand scheme of things, losing a computer pales in comparison to the other life losses I've endured. To be honest, that's one of the reasons I cried the most when I realized I lost all of my data: it hit me that I lost my parents' and brother's emails and information too. When someone you love dies, you hang on to every last fiber and scrap that used to be them because you know there will never be anything new made by them again. It hurts to lose something that was a part of them, even if it was just an email. But I do know this: even if I have their emails, it doesn't make them any less dead. Clutching at their scraps won't bring them back, but no data loss will erase them from my brain either.

5) I am thanking God for this blog. It's a record of my life (and my kids' and husband's life) that exists outside of my laptop, and it is still alive even when the computer is not. I am especially glad that I still have this post that I wrote a year ago. It contains my father's last writings to me.

Looking forward, I will protect my laptop. I will invest in cloud storage and backup my data regularly. (I highly recommend you do the same.) Another thing I'm pondering is the use of some sort of cloud organizer instead of Microsoft Outlook. I've considered it in the past, but didn't want to go through the work of uploading all my contacts and calendar to another destination. Now that I am starting all over from scratch, I think maybe it's a good time to try it!

And to sum it all up, I go back to that image I used in my last post: "View your life with kindsight. Stop beating yourself up about things from your past. Instead of slapping your forehead and asking: 'What was I thinking?' Breathe and ask the kinder question: 'What was I learning?'"

What We Do Right

Some days, it seems all I can do is screw up. I’m sure you know what those days are like: you wake with an overcast soul and no amount of sunshine can break the clouds apart. Since I became a mom, these types of days are extra hard because of the two little lives I am trying to guide. There are days when I feel like I keep piling mistake upon mistake and I wonder how my children are EVER going to become productive adults with someone like me showing them the ropes.

I had a day like that recently. As usual, I started to mentally beat myself up over it. The list began: I yell too much. I feed them junk. I don’t play on the floor with them enough. I’m not a good mom like other moms I know. I don’t listen to every thing my kids say. I don’t know how to make them be nice to each other. We don’t laugh enough. I lost my patience over homework and yelled again. I’m tired. And crabby. And if anyone says, “Mommy!” again, I might scream! And that’s just the beginning, y’all.

And then I heard a small voice suggest that maybe, just maybe, I do a few things right. I stopped right there and decided to erase the negative recording that was vomiting sewage all over brain, listing all the things I mess up. Instead, I made a list of the things I do right. Or at least try to do right for my babies.

I want to share these things with you. No, not to toot my own horn. And not to fish for compliments, in hopes that you’ll leave me a nice comment saying what a “wonderful mom” I am. STOP. THAT. I want to share these things because I think it takes a determined mental shift to pull yourself out of negative and into positive. I believe in silver linings, no matter how thin and frail they are. You’ll see that in this list, because sometimes I have to grasp at straws. I hope you read this list and it helps you reframe your mind to see the good even in some really dark and dreary days. And if you want to leave a comment? Please do – but make it about what YOU do well too!

1. When I enter a room to see my kids, I smile. Whether it’s first thing in the morning or after nap, I try to show them genuine joy in seeing their faces. Years ago, I read this in a book or magazine and decided to try it too. It helps them (and me!) know they are cherished.

2. On school days, I spend 10 or 15 minutes cuddling and laying beside Katie quietly. I believe the simple act of holding her in my arms gives her encouragement for the day. It helps focus my day too, and I get to hear random thoughts that float through her dozing mind.

3. After the kids are dressed, we sit at the top of the stairs and Start Our Day. We start with this prayer: “Dear Jesus, please come into my heart today. Thank you for loving me. Amen.” The prayer is important for inviting Jesus to do life with us each day. And then we look at each other and say, “Good morning. I love you. We’re going to have a GREAT day!” I heard that in a devotional at our former church. A bunch of women and I scoffed at it, but then I decided to start each day with that phrase and it has benefited us.

4. At our house, we stick to a routine. Yes, I get lots of grief over this and sometimes I wish my kids weren’t so routine-oriented because changing the routine (for example, at holiday time) can throw them into a tizzy. But keeping them in a routine (wake-dress-breakfast-activity-lunch-nap-play-dinner-bath-books-teeth-bed) keeps them calmer.

5. We limit TV viewing for the kids. They get a 30 minute show at night after their bath, if we have time.

6. We listen to music. Years ago, I remember seeing my friend Mary and her toddler singing Bob Marley. I thought that was cool and wondered how I could get my daughter to like mainstream music (that I like too!). So I just started to play “regular” music in the car and, behold! It worked! Jackson’s favorite song is Juke Box Hero. Katie’s favorite used to be a song by Josh Gracin. Now it’s whatever Taylor Swift is singing. The point is this: I love music, and my kids do too. I’ve also learned a sneaky trick: when I want the kids to learn something (the books of the Bible or the states, etc.), I find a song on iTunes and we listen to it and learn. Imagine that?!

7. We play outside. A LOT. If the weather is above 45 degrees, the kids are riding bikes down the street or playing in the back yard. I owe this all to Sheryl because she used to take her twin toddlers outside each evening back in the days when Katie was just learning to walk. I brought Katie outside to play, and we haven’t gone inside since. (Ha.)

8. We read. A LOT. We visit the library often and pick out books. We read those books before naps and bedtime. The kids bring books with them on almost every car ride. And just like the music tip, I’ve learned to make books like these that help the kids learn something specific (like the Lord’s Prayer or road signs or the makes and models of cars).

9. Just like we Start Our Day, we also end our day. There’s a bedtime story, one song from a mix CD of favorites, a prayer, then, like my sister and her children, we finish with this quote from the book Love You Forever: “I love you forever. I like you for always. As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.” The last word we say is “mizpah.” It’s also the last word we say when we part from each other for school or work.

10. Food: oh, this is an area with LOTS of negatives, but here are a few small positives: my kids can eat their body weight in fruit. When we go to McDonald’s, I bribe Jackson to eat chicken before I’ll allow apples. At the grocery store, he begs for watermelon and cantaloupe. They also beg for what I call “old people cereal.” You know, the bran kind? They would rather eat Cracklin’ Oat Bran or Oatmeal Squares than some more kid-friendly cereals. Another positive? My kids don’t like soda. They’ve rarely had it and when they did, they spit it out. So, there’s a great positive for you: my kids could live on watermelon, bran and milk. Yay for me.

11. We work really hard to protect our kids’ innocence. I research most movies prior to viewing. Even if it’s something I think Katie could handle developmentally, I will put my foot down if I think it’s not something she should be seeing at her age. I figure she has YEARS of being jaded and grown up, and only a few years of innocence when the world’s heartaches haven’t broken her yet. I want those years to last.

12. I’m hard-nosed about sleep schedules. We don’t skip naps unless we’re a) at Camp Grandma or b) uh… we just don’t. Bedtime is a strict 8:00. That’s partly because I need to be OFF the clock by then, but also because I read lots of books and attended a multitude of sleep classes when the kids were babies and heard from numerous experts that sleep deprivation is damaging. Kids’ bodies need sleep and deprivation of it can lead to slower learning skills, bad eating habits, emotional outbursts, etc. Honestly? I think sleep is so important that I’d rather feed my kids cake for breakfast than put them to bed after 8:00. But that’s just me.

13. Our kids have a lot of grandparental interaction. Thankfully, they have two surviving blood-related grandparents in town, and a few surrogates who have stepped up to the plate to represent my parents. And, thankfully, those in-town and out-of-town grandparents lovingly agree to spend their time and energy with our kids. (Not all grandparents do, you know.) Our in-town grandparents show up at school functions. They invite the kids to sleepovers at their house almost weekly. They take the kids to movies. And feed them junk food. And let them get away with things I won’t. I am grateful to them for the relief they give me and Dan, and also for their simple presence in Katie and Jackson’s lives. My grandparents weren’t like that, and I envy Katie and Jackson a little because of the great bond they have with their elders.

14. This is a heavy topic and hard to pinpoint, but modeling a healthy marriage is on my list of positives. This doesn’t mean Dan and I never fight. Or huff at each other. Or get snippy. But it does mean that we greet each other with joy when Dan gets home from work. And we talk to each other respectfully. And we remind our kids what a great parent the other parent is. We show our kids how to support someone. That wasn’t modeled for me as a child, and it has taken me YEARS (and a patient spouse) to reprogram my brain so I can relate to Dan respectfully and lovingly.

15. I’m trying to give my kids a spiritual life and education. Sometimes, this positive is borne out of a negative: they see me mess up and humbly ask forgiveness – from God and whomever I have wronged. Other times, this positive is brought about more intentionally with things like regular worship at church, saying grace, listening to Christian music in the car, watching me read my Bible and pray. I’d love for my kids to be blind to my faults, but I know if they can see God redeem brokenness and imperfection, they’ll be able to see His love for them too.

So, there you go. Again, please don’t think I’m tooting my own horn. Far from it, my friends! I am my own worst critic and – trust me – the list of negatives and I-shoulds and not enoughs is much longer than this list of positives. My mom used to have this quote posted in her kitchen: “Nothing is all wrong. Even a clock that has stopped is right twice a day.” I’m hoping that my list will give you all the courage to extend grace to yourselves, like I’m trying to do too.

Forgiveness

So.... so. This is a hard post for me to write. I feel compelled to do so after two little nudges in the past week. I need to forgive someone who wronged me many years ago, and decided the best way to do it is on my blog. I had other ideas, but settled on this.

I got fired from a job seven years ago. My boss there, J, was someone I truly felt was a close friend. He was like a big brother to me, which meant a lot at the time because it was just a few years after my own brother died. So it was nice to have that figure in my life. Yep, I know. That was my first mistake - I should never have made such a tight friendship with my boss.

Anyway, I was his assistant and covered his butt on many occasions. I was overwhelmed with the work load I kept getting (some of the stuff was his job, but he kept passing the buck to me). After a while, I got frustrated doing that and kind of turned into a witch some days. I figured out that I needed to look for a new job, but had barely started the process when I got fired. I know part of it was my fault: I had a pretty bad attitude at that point, and was frustrated at my boss because he was my "friend" but wasn't going to bat for me. He turned on me and during the meeting where I was fired, I was told I mistook "friendliness for friendship." Ouch. That was a hard blow to me. I was covering for him lots of times out of friendship, and was willing to put up with a lot if he would just help me.

So, I was fired. It was pretty rough because I had let my job consume my life; all my friends were from the office, and my weekend free time was spent with them. So getting fired not only took away my means of living, but also my social network. It was isolating. The hardest part of it all was my "friend" had fired me and didn't show even a flicker of remorse.

Of course I recovered and lived to tell the tale. The day after I was fired, my dad called first thing in the morning. He said, "Go look out the window." I did and said, "Yeah?" His answer? "Did you notice? The sun came up. All is not lost. It's a new day."

Looking back on the firing, it was probably one of the best things that could happen to me at the time. My pride was wounded and my trust was a bit broken, but I changed careers, got to spend a month off at the pool, and also learned an invaluable lesson about making my job my life.

So... on to the forgiveness part. I've held an inner grudge against J for a long time. Every time the pastor at church preaches about forgiveness, J's name pops into my head and I kind of just roll my eyes. In more recent years, I've actually become a little more receptive to the idea of forgiving him... I just haven't done it or made any "official" moves toward it.

Last week I read something in a book about forgiveness, and J's name popped into my head again. I finally thought to myself, "I really should just let it go and move on." And that very same day, Dan was reading the local paper and there was a Letter to the Editor, written by J himself. If that ain't a nudge, I don't know what is!

I told Dan that I should write J a letter, and Dan thinks I'm crazy. So, I'll settle for writing a blog entry. Get it out in the open, let it go, and move on. Here's what I would say if I wrote that letter or spoke to J:

"Hey! Remember me? The girl you threw to the wolves? Yeah, not so nice, huh? You and I both know it was a mistake, and we both carry the blame. But it would have been nice for you to give me some warning or the dignity to walk out on my own. I read your Letter to the Editor last week, and it sounds like you have changed a bit since I last saw you. The new church you're going to seems to have made an impact on you. I hope so. Is it too much for me to wish that you've seen the error of your ways? Yes, I guess so - that sounds pretty boastful of me. Oh, well. It's all water under the bridge now. I hope you're doing well. I hear your family has grown. I'm sure you're a fun and goofy dad. I wish you the best, and want you to know I forgive you. Take care."

And, now folks, it's done. Here I am, moving on. Thanks for letting me clear the air!