I have got to be like the worst blogger ever.
My last post was at the beginning of August.
Whaaaat?
So you're probably wondering what brings me here on such a fine evening.
Well I'll tell ya….
Me 2.0
{Hang on, I'll get there}
Tomorrow morning I will be traveling to the paradise that is Thatcher, Arizona.
Or Thatch-nasty as it's more rightly called.
To talk about my life.
To a room full of 20 year olds.
Single, 20 year olds.
Being the bishop of the college YSA ward, my dad has felt impressed to give a combined lesson about pornography. You know, "THE lesson"
He has asked me to come and share my experience being married to a pornography addict
in hopes their eyes will be opened to just how dangerous and toxic it can be to individuals and especially in families.
He asked me to do it last year as well.
So tonight, just like last year, I pulled out my old journal
from the years I was married, to gather my thoughts on what I wanted to share.
Tonight, just like last year, I read through each and every entry.
Tonight, just like last year, I cried as I read.
Tonight, just like last year, I didn't recognize the person writing those words.
I know that was me, but was that really me?
I can't believe that this is really me.
Page after page of feeling some small speck of hope only to be crushed 50 words later.
Up and down and up and down.
The pain is still raw.
And I can feel that my heart remembers it,
but it's like I'm reading someone else's sadness.
Tonight, just like last year, has been a very humbling experience.
I know that this was my life, yet my wounds have been so healed, and so mended and I've been blessed for my faithfulness in such sorrow 1,000x over that that person no longer exists.
And in that moment, the very real assurance that the Atonement has made me whole was ever present.
And I am grateful.
Because I have been made new.
In one particular entry, pretty soon after the {1st} marital journey had come to a close,
I wrote about finally feeling light in my life again.
About the strength coming back to my legs.
My soul rehydrating.
And I write:
"Looking back - I can't believe I made it out alive. Someone with wings must have literally dragged me though. I have battle wounds to prove it. The soul scarring kind of battle wounds.
But you know what?
Someday, my little ship will come in,
and I will get off as someone new.
And start my happy life.
And I can't wait to meet her.
You know,
me 2.0
I hope she is everything I lost and more."
Tonight, just like last year, I read those words.
But tonight, UNLIKE last year, I realized something.
I'm it.
I'm her.
Me 2.0.
I've made it.
My ship did come in.
And I did get off as someone new.
And my happy life has started.
I said I couldn't wait to meet her.
So I introduced myself.
To myself.
To my… former self.
I told that girl from 2011 that I had made it.
I closed my eyes and thanked that girl for setting sail on uncharted waters.
Not knowing where she would end up.
I am grateful for her bravery.
Because of her,
I am here.
Me 2.0
