The name change and letter did quite a bit to release some of the pain I carried around, but I quickly learned that didn’t solve much. The holidays rolled around that first year and I was utterly miserable. I spent Thanksgiving on Skype with the family and sat in my living room eating leftovers that day. I gravely misjudged how important family time would be; especially around the holidays. *doh*
I decided to drive to Texas that winter and to be honest I didn’t want to come back. I felt like I had failed miserably in my Minnesota pursuit of happiness. I was isolated, alone, and I wondered whether all of it was worth it.
I took a breather that year for almost 10 days and got some time to clear my head. I drove back to Minnesota with somewhat of a new perspective. In one way, loneliness can be a killer. On the other hand, it can be a blessing. It gave me a lot of thinking time and there were a lot of downtimes. That quiet peace was something I never had so I felt like I needed to use it to my advantage.
Therapy was continuing. I went every week without fail; sometimes twice a week working through issues like child abuse, isolation, and past relationships. One by one the issues would surface until I could talk comfortably about them. They took time though, and some days felt like hell. When you go through therapy, part of the process, unfortunately, is having to relive the event. Most times when there are bad events, our brains work very hard to either push them out, bury them or forget them. When they resurface, the pain is fresh; almost new like it had just happened. It’s not pleasant I will tell you that. Walking through fire sucks.
That second year here is when I slowly started to embrace the decision to be here. My spirits were lifting and I started finding happiness in small places; I was discovering seasons, watching flowers sprout in the springtime, and I loved Minnesota winters. There was something very peaceful about watching snowfall at night in front of a real log-burning fireplace. I started reading every spiritual self-help book I could get my hands on. I was already a fan of many of the topics; the law of attraction, karma principles, decluttering life, adding more “ing” to my life, etc.
I still couldn’t figure out how to apply the law of attraction to my weight loss. I wasn’t losing weight, I was gaining weight during this time. My knees (that were already horrible) were getting worse and my mobility was slowing down. I knew my body was important, but I felt like concentrating on one thing at a time and my priority was my mind and my heart; right or wrong.
I started visiting churches; it felt like something was missing. I was a fish out of water because I had no idea where to start. I attended non-denominational churches, a Catholic church, a Buddhist Zen Center, and I even ventured so far as to re-visit a Mormon church which was the faith I was born into. None of them felt right. I met some wonderful people, I just couldn’t find the right one.
I had befriended an owner of a coffee shop and during a visit to her drive through one morning I asked her if she knew of any good churches. I realize it was an odd question, but I was frustrated by this point and felt like it wouldn’t hurt. That weekend, she took me with her to a church I would later call my own; Eaglebrook. It’s where I still remain today. I wasn’t looking for a place to belong, but I was looking for something that spoke to my heart. I had finally found it. I love Eaglebrook don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t about finding a physical church location for me. It was about feeling like I wasn’t in this big world myself and something that made sense.
I was baptized that summer. I ended up accepting another father in my life during this time and it made me wonder why he hadn’t been there the entire time. Something felt right for the first time in my life. It was through this that I accepted the challenges that I had been given in life. I’m not going to say that I understood all of them, but I took them and made an effort to look for the lessons. I’m not going to say that I found God because he was never lost. I did, however, find me.