Snow Covered Garbage

When I got sick in Deadwood on New Year's Day, I happened to find myself next to 2 back alley dumpsters. It probably held all the empty alcohol bottles from the wild night prior, but I remember being struck at how... well,  pretty the garbage cans looked covered in snow. While Andy was inside getting me water, I was bent over, with my head cocked sideways to stare at them, squinting my eyes because they seemed to gleam in the sun. They were oddly stirring, standing there in solace, their usually dirty existence now bathed in a pure glow. "That's what I do, Tawny," a voice spoke straight to my heart. His voice. Whiter than snow... I remember singing that in church, knowing that God takes all of our sins away and turns the foul clean again. However seeing that stinking, putrid garbage gleaning in the sun made the analogy come alive for me. Everything looks so much more beautiful covered in snow. Even garbage.

I've had some time to process the events of this past week and am going through so many different emotions, it's like I'm on an improv stage emitting whichever feeling is being yelled out next from the audience. "Sadness." "Hope." "Anger." "Cranky." "Foolish." Friday night I saw Andy to calmly discuss the terms of our split, i.e. I wanted to know, was it really just... over? It's like me to be stubborn and stick to my guns and not keep in contact, but I thought that with everything we'd been through, perhaps there was something to discuss that hadn't been talked about, or something to stir that lay dormant in one or both of us. The direction of our conversation that night made one thing very clear-- we both wanted vastly different things in a relationship and we were both looking forward to those things coming true. In fact, at the end of the night I smiled wryly and said, "When did you become a stranger? And how did we not figured out any of this before I moved out here?" The truth was-- we wouldn't have figured it out had we not dated this close. Before he left, he offered to be my ICE... in case of emergency... if something were to happen to me. I accepted. However, later I decided that if I die over here, I get to be really mad at him.

I woke up on Saturday and felt like myself for the first time in over a month. I went out and rented the usual break-up weekend movies: The Notebook and Cast Away (seriously, no pun intended), but I didn't end up watching either one. I cleaned and did laundry--putting it all away-- dusted and vacuumed, and napped with Sophie. It was a peaceful day, and I have no question that Andy felt the exact same way with all the pressure lifted.

Sunday morning's sermon was, I kid you not: "The God Who Pursues." A smile played on my lips as I opened to Jonah and listened to every word straight from the God who was still telling me, See? I know who you are. I was sitting next to my Modesto friend Carla (Grover) and her husband Paul and was very thankful for their presence. It wasn't until they invited me to their friends house that evening that I realized it was too soon to be out- I failed the social test, trying not to burst into tears all night. My head and my heart aren't quiet on the same page yet. I decided then and there to limit my social gatherings which seemed to worsen my depression rather than help heal it.

I'm not looking for a fairy-tale or a Hollywood style-ending. But like many of you have written to me, God has given me a story that involves so much heartbreak, pain, sadness, and betrayal that I can't stop short of redeeming love. I won't.

Let it snow.