We must learn to let go

You must learn to let go to move forward.

“Keep moving forward” my brother, Mike, used to say when we were settling the estate of our dear mother after her death.  The attachment and meaning of each object and task made moving in any direction difficult, confusing at times, and so very final.  Then we decided to take them one at a time.  Then we decided to learn to let go . . .

The unmade necklaces which would have surely been my best work needed to be disassembled today before they were ever completed.  If I had stopped to make jewelry this afternoon then I would have never made my deadline for shipping Trinity Jewelry by Design to its new owner.  I actually tried putting the beads back on the cotton fibers before realizing that I needed to stop and it would be o.k. to let these unmade designs go . . .

wall mural, unyru paper, Indian paper, condo mural, mural on the wall, handmade mural, sun mural, recovery image, mural on wallwall mural, condo mural, mural on wall, unyru paper, Indian paper, inspirational poetry, wall poem, poetry on the wall, wall art, condo art

The 9-foot mural on the wall of my condo in Naperville, Illinois took a year to complete.  I began with sunny colors of yellow tracing paper, pastel hues of unyru papers from India, custom-stenciled golden palm leaves, a few rhinestone swirls, lettering from a local sign shop, and a very important message about the bunny trails of life being such a very important part of the journey.  “But what about the mural?” my friends would ask when moving to be with my intended beloved would take me 200 miles to the East of my happy place.  Yes, finding true love required leaving the art of restoration behind:  a different song of letting go . . .

When the pain of running my life on emptiness, stress, unanswered questions of “why?” and never having enough to make a difference anyways I finally crashed into the arms of my Jesus.  At the time I was 29 years old, single, working full time, and forever trying to finish my Master’s degree.  Then a laundrymat attendant laid out the plan of salvation and invited me to come to the table of the Lord for refreshment, forgiveness, renewal, eternal life with Him.  Later that night with tears the wasted meaningless living-for-me finally did let go once and for all . . .

The hurt of wretched divorce grieves my Lord and me, sometimes even now when I have known such goodness in my new life with Steve.  It took me years of harboring what it would take to even the score if given the chance:  holding onto the files that would prove the ways in which I was wronged.  Then I realized that the one carrying the baggage too far was me not him.  I was already forgiven years ago for my part in things.  In due time and with lightness of heart I finally learned to let go of that other person too . . .

Who could ever imagine the hellish suffering of these past three years with my head banging to and fro day after day?  Literally, I mean, with a yet undiagnosed illness that has had too many pieces to keep track anymore.  Cries out for healing one thousand times have made little difference on the surface; it’s so easy to become discouraged, to give up in motionless brokenness of the worst kind.  “Who knows if the trials will ever end?” I often wonder when up late at night.  We cannot know much about tomorrow so we must move along in faith today.  For through faith, through Divine intervention, I have had enough grace once again to get me through yet another episode, another day.  And the smallest of sweetness has come that would have been missed had it come any other way.  So to the throne of grace with great expectation I do most definitely let my achy breaky heart go . . .

For who really knows when the Lover of my soul shall return in glory or to take me home?  When He comes for me I’m sure I will recognize His name, His face, His comfort from all the days I’ve seen each of these before.  I cannot afford to be discouraged or waste much time groaning the pangs of sorrow in this life when preparation is what is now due.  It is time for letting God direct my every word, my every task:  my thoughts held captive as an offering in love nothing else.

Oh how I do pray He comes soon to take me home to His mansion with many rooms and warm embrace!  Yet in the meantime, Gentle Reader, my Jesus directs me to keep my eyes on Him from here and the one step of the path (that’s all) in front of me as I go.  Yes, I must learn to let go of more than I ever dreamed I would need to and let it all slip through my hands to be free.  My happiness depends upon this for the lightness in my spirit that will carry me to the wondrous places in life you or I may ever go.  I trust that down the road a bit it will be truly beautiful and worth lightening the load a bit don’t you think?  JJ

Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Oh How He loves You

Jeremiah 31.3

This truth resonates with me today.  My desire is to extend this truth to the only person still living who hurt me beyond measure.  While much healing has occurred, I recently realized that more emotional baggage needed to be discarded out of my life from this old relationship for me to fully live in today.  The process began about 2 weeks ago.

I knew that I needed to thin some files to make room for new ones in our home office.  While this may not seem like a very large task since I keep fairly up-to-date with such tasks, there was a section in a drawer that had never been touched since it was created.  Fifteen file drawers neatly organized alphabetically and the folders in the “Legal” section were bulging a bit too much.  I had been in car accidents, named in the will of a few different parties, and survived a divorce with much accompanying paperwork telling the grueling details.  The latter one was taking up too much space for my current lifestyle.

The Lord had convicted me many times in the past of discarding the “Divorce” section:  the remnants of pain from divorce.  I got rid of a few things awhile back but not enough such that I could still recount the many hurts, injustices, losses, and pain with the remaining documents.  A sick badge of honor was left intact should I ever need to tell the whole story again.  In holding onto more than the final court decision, I was burdening myself in more ways than I realized.  Conviction came again when I was pleading with the Lord to heal me of a serious illness.  At first it seemed so unrelated that I put it off once again.  Then I decided to respond differently:  with obedience.  With trust.  With faith.  With swiftness.

I felt nothing after the folders fell into the recycling bin.  Whoa.  After all, maybe some good can come from the papers chopped and shredded into something more useful, eh?  Within a day I had forgotten about all of those files and memories altogether.  It is only in the writing of this blog that they have come to mind as I attempt to illustrate the power of letting my Jesus Who loves me and knows me so well lead me into His place of righteousness.  Only He evens the score, makes things right.  Only He redeems the hurt by filling it with His love.  Only He will lead me into using the past for His glory should He choose to.  Ahhhhh.  Another measure of healing has come into my life by letting go of all of “the evidence” of sorrow.  My Jesus transforms sorrow for His good.  I am sure of this.

Now comes the next step:  finishing the task of cutting off any energy that goes to feeding the pain from this great loss in my life.  This is an ongoing practice.  My former spouse left 11 years ago!  So why did my curiosity cause me to check on his status periodically on the internet?  I could justify it a million ways and virtually all of them drained my joy in today.  So gently with the encouragement of another believer in Christ, I moved away from such nefarious activities completely.  Decreasing the frequency further was not enough.  Only by cutting them off have I found freedom!

Gratefully, all of this stuff has nothing to do with the love I receive from my intended beloved, Steve.  He is an amazing man of God, after His own heart, whether or not I choose to love him with baggage or without.  Oh yeah, I am blessed beyond measure!  The second part of the admonishment from my friend was that I needed to get rid of these behaviors to be free to fully love Steve.  My focus needed to be unhindered by pain from the past, especially that which I did not realize I was stirring up by dabbling in past hurts.  What a dumb thing to do!  My Jesus knows and holds my heart on all of these issues.  My Jesus is leading me to himself more and more to become the woman He intends for me to be each day and in doing so, moves me closer to Steve within the covenant of marriage He ordained.  Incredible.

The final step in this process (call it what you may:  healing?  letting go?  letting God?  joy?) is to lovingly dedicate Craig’s life to the One Who created Him just as he is.  Oh sure, I have prayed for Craig hundreds of times.  With a different kind of love I profess that the message of the cross is all Craig needs to come into the fullness of life.  The message of redeeming grace is all Craig needs to find the answers to questions he once asked, he challenged, he doubted with, he ran away pursuing.  The message of love, Christ’s everlasting love, will transcend everything he has ever felt in a finite earthly existence.  And the love of our Lord will be perfect.  The message of the Bible, that Craig used to profess in Sunday School classes so eloquently, is the only great read he will ever need to find joy and meaning.

And so Craig, I lay you before the Throne of Grace.  I pray that you will look up and see the eyes of heaven open up to you and bring you the true desires of your heart in a relationship with Jesus Christ.  In Him you will find nothing less than every good thing.  I do hope you will find every good thing.  I have.  It is waiting for you as well.

In the meantime, I step away from this odd chapter in my old life.  My life was restored and love beyond measure has entered into my heart.  I am grateful for so much and a lot of it is in the form of one who is tall, blue-eyed, athletic, handsome, winsome, and loved and respected by many.  Tonight I have the privilege of celebrating an accomplishment in the life of my intended beloved and I am honored to be there at his side as he accepts recognition for his achievement.  I still know the greatest achievement stands above it all:  his surrendering to the Lord, Jesus Christ brings true victory!  Now that is something worth celebrating.  JJ

 

My Testimony: Salvation in a Laundrymat

Salvation in a Laundrymat The Testimony of Julie November 27, 2005

Originally published on http://www.fellowshipchurchonline.com/

*************************

table in a laundrymat

When the trials of life got me down

And my angst led to seeking and a new church

It was the outstretched arms of the laundrymat attendant

That led to a decision washing me clean, indeed.

 

That was 1988: I was single and a Christian man had just entered my life. My life was stuffed at the time with full time work in healthcare and graduate school. Dabbling in church attendance and regular Al Anon Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings were fueling a desire to learn more about God and the person of Jesus Christ. I had so many questions, so many unresolved hurts from my childhood. Sitting in the audience of a very large, non-denominational church brought tears and stirred something deep inside me. Something I hadn’t felt in years . . .

I grew up attending a local church, complete with first communions, baptisms, lighting candles, going to the confessional, and the like. As a teenager and in college, I attended other churches of the same denomination and the routine, the rituals, were pretty much the same. But where was God? I could sense Him sometimes on Sunday mornings and in one particular baptismal service for my Godchild, Tommy. Why wasn’t He helping our family on the other days of the week?

My family life was in shambles. My father developed a mental illness and left our home when I was 9 years old. I would later understand that his struggle to overcome his mental illness exposed me and my brothers to sorrows beyond belief. There were inappropriate experiences with other adults as well.

We struggled to survive. My mom went back to work to support us and a few people tried to help where they could. The weekly allowances, ice cream from the Good Humor truck, books from the South Elementary School Book Club, and chocolate milk for lunch ended. My mom struggled in her identity as a single mom. The church fell short in meeting her needs, our needs and we were shamed by others. Some of the neighborhood boys weren’t allowed to play with my brothers. I felt rejected too. We kids fought a lot. And God bless the babysitters who risked losing their sanity by coming to our house!

My brothers, in time, would turn to alcohol or drugs to endure life. Both would eventually spend time in jail and never quite make it in the work world. Neither one married. One died of alcoholism and the other is devoting himself to care for our mom. Amazing! By the grace of God, I was given different responsibilities and opportunities.

A neighbor introduced me to the Warren Jayteens, the teen group of the Warren Jaycees (in our city just outside of Detroit, Michigan). That was the first of many new interests, part time jobs, and classical guitar lessons, and the list goes on. I became a “human doing” instead of a “human being.” My worth came from my activities, my accomplishments. And on the outside, I excelled.

Inside, I was hurting. I sought comfort in dating relationships and dabbled in alcohol and marijuana. My tolerance to alcohol increased. The partying continued when I moved to Illinois after college to start my first job in healthcare. I would later see that my profession was a gift from God. He gave me the insight to pursue a profession in which I would teach others the skill of adapting to any circumstance. I personally benefited from this as I entered graduate school, found Al Anon Adult Children of Alcoholics, changed jobs, moved a few times, and met a Christian man.

That dear man helped me with my many questions about God and the Bible. The witness of his upbringing in a Christian home spoke volumes of what it really looked like to grow up in a stable environment. His father was a leader in his childhood church. The witness of Craig’s life and of his family, showed me more of what it was like to have good clean fun and led to a decision for Christ.

On our third date, he brought me to a very large, non-denominational church. There were 4,000 people at each service! I thought it was a cult! I was wrong. My soul got fed for the first time. Some months later, a laundry mat attendant sensed my needs, my readiness, and witnessed to me. I will never forget that day. I can still see her face. She had so much love in her eyes. That night, alone in my apartment, I prayed to have Jesus come into my life. I repented of the mistakes of my past. I was truly washed clean by the blood of Jesus.

Two years later in 1991, Craig and I were married in that large, non-denominational church. We worshipped there five years. I grew in my understanding of the Christian life. I tried to be a “good Christian” wife and fell short a bit. My walk with the Lord would really begin several years later when Craig led us to a smaller Bible church. It was there that I began to unravel the part of the pain of my childhood that had created a barrier to developing an intimate relationship with the person of Jesus Christ. More tears. More healing. And a faithful man to walk with me. Very cool.

Things changed March 4, 2003. Our marriage had endured several trials and disappointments by then. Craig’s father had died, I was injured in an auto accident with lingering effects, Craig was laid off twice, we lost the court case related to the accident, and my work-related injuries created financial and emotional hardships for both of us. I always returned to work after a setback. I adapted. Craig pursued a new career direction as well in aviation and we felt the Lord’s blessing and provision. Then he had to stop suddenly and was never quite the same after that. He began to withdraw from me. At the same time, he threw himself into church service and became a Deacon. I tried to start a second business and return to work in healthcare. God had other plans.

On the morning of March 4, 2003, I prayed a desperate prayer for the Lord to intervene in my life. Intervene he did! That night I received a phone call and learned that my husband had been in an affair for about a year. I asked Craig to leave for awhile that night and he did. He never came back.

Standing in my living room, very late at night, very alone, I was in shock. I knew my life was about to change but had no idea how it would. A verse came to me from Jeremiah 29:11:

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (NIV)

That verse would come back to me again and again at key times over the next three years – at times when no other words could possibly sustain me or give me hope. Like the night of the fire . . .

Let’s just say that major changes occurred in rapid-fire succession from that day forward. (Riddle: What day of the year is a command? Answer: March “fourth.” Geez!)

My grandmother died. I refinanced our home. My brother died. The divorce process became eminent. I sold my home. I moved. I lost my job due to an injury. I was promoted in my home business. I moved again. I got a temporary job then a permanent position. My mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. The divorce was final at Christmastime. Geez! I was in a fire. I moved twice to temporary housing. I moved to a beautiful condo where I now reside. The healing work has begun, from the inside out!

Whew! I thank the Lord for walking with me and for bringing the Army of Believers who have been there, led me, and carried me on this journey to today. It takes an Army and an unshakable faith in Christ to rise from the trials of life victorious. I pray daily for Craig’s repentance and return to the Lord. And I do know this: the choices we make each day determine where we ultimately land in our walk with the Lord, our walk through the days of our lives. Since my prayer has always been for my own sorrows not to be wasted, I remember to seek the face of Jesus each day, especially when the mud flies. I pray that Craig will too. He has incredible gifts of teaching, of reasoning, of physical health, and of loving. May these be used for God’s glory soon.

As for me, I’m called to do what I can with what I have, where I am. (At the time of this writing in 2005, I’d) just had a “Thanksgiving” party to thank all the people that helped me; the evening was wonderful! I pray that the Lord continues to restore me. Through this process, my purpose has become clear: to build something of significance that blesses other people. Gee, that’s what I’ve always wanted in my heart before I could put the words together! To know this purpose is the intervention I prayed for March 4, 2003. I am closer to this dream now more than ever before. And it came this way. This way? Yes, it came this way.

And since this has proven to be true in my life I must say that I really wouldn’t want it any other way!

Thanks.  Just Julie

***************************

ADDENDUM:  It is now 9 years later when I have come across my testimony in an old computer file.  I am amazed at all the Lord has walked with me through!  My mother passed away in March of 2007 and I married my intended beloved, Steve, in November later that year.  I moved to Indiana to marry Steve, to slow things down, to rediscover so many rich outdoor activities, and to enjoy a loving relationship with Steve like none I had ever experienced before.  Even a serious personal illness, my brother’s stroke, and a medical leave from a lifelong profession that I love could not deter the love I experience from my Jesus and my Stevers.  After all:  life goes on.  I am exceedingly grateful that the Lord never changes.  I am exceedingly grateful for so much!

DSCF9784

The most important element in all of this, in all of my life, is my personal relationship with Jesus Christ.  Thank you Jesus.

That is all.  JJ

The life I once lived

I’ve taken on a few phrases from others and made them my own over the years, ones that put a bunch of thoughts into a phrase or short sentence.  Not that these would bode well as my epitaph or anything like that mind you!  They just seemed to stick with me.  Here’s a biggie from an old supervisor named Jim.  He was a social worker by training and the director of the inpatient geriatric psychiatric unit where I was contracted to work.  When asked how things were going he would often reply:

“Same story, different day.”

Funny thing is that it was largely true.  On the Generations Unit there generally was at least one person every day screaming non-stop, voiding in an inappropriate location, wandering into another patient’s room unannounced, refusing to eat, refusing to get out of bed, or making up a story to convince him and psychiatrist that he/she did not need to be there.  Yes it was a crazy place.  That’s what you get when the nursing homes send their residents whose behavior can no longer be managed in their facility.  It is also where a depressed little old lady or your suicidal Uncle Pete would go for supportive therapies, meds., daily structured activities, and a round of ECT if needed (aka shock therapy!).  The latter actually worked very well for older adults.  The short term memory loss and massive headache was a major drag for awhile, however!

I worked there as an occupational therapist.  My role was to evaluate the functional level of the patient and assist the team in forecasting discharge plans while providing therapeutic activities.  The goal was always to achieve improved mental status, mood, and functioning for discharge to the least restrictive environment.  That might translate to a person returning home instead of assisted living or remaining in a private room in a nursing home instead of a locked dementia unit.  Sometimes the patient’s goals were reached and sometimes not.  Educating the family on the patient’s needs post discharge was also my role:  an important and sometimes delicate process.  I loved all of it.  I got to apply my skills in standardized assessments, grading activities for the best outcome in lower and higher level cognitive groups, patient and family education, and knowledge of community resources that may be of assistance post discharge.  The two latter skills were collaborated with the unit social workers who also loved working with older adults.  We had a great team back then . . .

I’ll never forget the two weeks that c-diff ran rampant through the unit.  C-diff is short for Clostridium difficile:  an infection of the colon causing horrific diarrhea and inflammation.  It’s a bacterial infection I can now diagnose by smell.  O.k. perhaps that’s too much information?  When virtually all of the inpatients become sick it is only a matter of time before the staff contract the infection as well.  There are just too many common areas in a locked unit that too many people end up touching with a contaminated hand after caring for a patient.  The motto those days was, “please pass the yogurt” or something similar!

Ruth was the best during situations like that.  She was older than me and had been a Certified Nursing Assistant for years.  She could get the toughest old bird to take a shower when he was resisting for days then she would turn around and feed a tender soul in the late stages of Alzheimer’s disease bringing out the patient’s long-forgotten smile producing a long-lost twinkle in her eye.  Ruth often told us stories of her pet pot-bellied pig.  Seriously!  The beast weighed a couple hundred pounds but was part of their family, inside the house, potty-trained and behaved like a favorite feline or pup.  I could not imagine it!  Ruth lived in a suburban neighborhood like the rest of us!  Actually more recently while living in a smaller town with Amish homesteads not far away I can now start to imagine it a little better.  It’s still not for me, however!

The life I once lived was in the suburbs of Chicago amongst 8 million other people.  I was married and lived in a townhouse as it was the only affordable option even for two Master-degreed professionals or DINKS:  double income no kids.  We attended a mega church then a smaller Bible church, organized a yearly block party in the court of our neighborhood, and took walks together in regional parks called Forest Preserves.  I enjoyed neighborhood walks and riding my hybrid bicycle (between that designed for road touring and trail riding).  Holidays were spent with family in various cities as everyone was out of State for our Illinois locale.  Sure there were ups and downs with health issues or financial stressors but largely each day of our lives was the “same story, different day.”  When this got to be too much for my former spouse he found a way out and took it.  Hmmmm.  Alternately I found that you don’t really need a way out, per se.  Sometimes the “difference” we are seeking finds us as part of the Lord’s plan for our lives and it comes from within us instead of in the form of persons, places, or things . . .

Flash forward a myriad of moves of my residence, a change in the car I was driving, changing my job four times, transitions to new hair and clothing styles, some weight loss, and eventually moving to Indiana to marry Steve — over 10 years later I rarely say that old phrase anymore.  Oh even if nothing much has changed lately in my health or the circumstances of battling a serious illness, there are always new discoveries meeting me each day.  Things simply cannot be boring when you marry a man with as much energy as Steve!  He keeps me going just keeping up with all of his activities even when he is not home!  First there’s his four adult children and their families, then there’s his hobbies and sports, and his participation in the worship of our Lord Jesus Christ; the latter always brings news related to our church fellowship in addition to an intriguing message from the pages of the Bible.  That’s a lot to keep track of and I love it.  My garden, online jewelry business, and this blog fill in much of the rest of the time not taken with health-related activities.  How could I ask for more when my heart is full?

Sure my life has changed in the last decade or so and I’ll bet it’s the same for you too, Gentle Reader.  Is that o.k. with us?  As for me I would never have asked for the difficulties that have come in recent years that have added more “excitement” and stress than I could ever have imagined.  The crazy thing is that I would also have never known how to ask for the blessings that have come from this particular path either.  I would not want to be without the blessings just to have had an easier life.  I believe that I am exactly within the will of my Heavenly Father, that He has His hand on my life and my heart warmed in the shelter of His mighty wings.  He goes with me, goes before me this moment and the next; there are signs of His wonders sprinkled everywhere in my days.  I am so glad that I am not bored with my life.  Well yes of course there are times I’d like a little less “excitement!”  Yet that’s when I need to rest my cares at His throne of grace, allow Him to carry me like the famous Footprints in the Sand poem so graphically portrays, or wait on the Lord in the quietness of a moment of prayer . . .

I’m going to keep my head up and do like my brother, Mike, always used to say:  “keep moving forward.”  The life I once lived is gone but not forgotten.  Those memories bring gratitude for all that the Lord has placed in my life today:  a story that is never really the same.  In time my Lord will make all things beautiful.  In the meantime though I think it is finally time for me to go to bed!  There is a calmness in my spirit at last.  The sun is coming up and the birds are singing their morning hello just outside my window.  For me it will serve as a happy goodnight lullaby as I snuggle up to my intended beloved who brings me more joy than I could ever imagine.  Real love and more is here now.

Yes, Lord, it will be a good day I think.  :J

footprints-man-beach-morning

 

All You Need is Love

Sometimes you just need Jesus with skin on, ya know?

Tis quite humbling to find true love in the midst of the most wretched time of my life.  Even the worst of the trauma of my childhood cannot compare to the wrecking ball-like experiences of violent, waking seizures every day.  During the bewitching hour of night my beloved often lingers nearby, checking in periodically or lies next to me to warm my chilled, freaking out frame.  Perhaps he has carried me to the bathroom moments earlier or fed me some water to drink in my listless state after an episode.  And then comes the silliness that only a River Bear can muster in the midst of yet another crisis.   Seriously!  He finds a way to laugh in the midst of it all.

Sometimes you just need Jesus with skin on and I am exceedingly grateful love my Steve every day.  Making his lunch bag for work or cooking dinner a few nights per week is my meager contribution of late.  Sometimes I can do housework, grocery shop and laundry too; not so much lately.  It doesn’t seem to matter to my husband though.  He appreciates any of it and celebrates when I can get out and walk the dog or create a piece of jewelry instead of completing the chores.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches seem to fill his belly just the same!  What further amazes me is his compliments and words of encouragement when I am at my lowest.  I have never known this much love from anyone before Steve!

To those Gentle Readers who are single:  be the partner for which you seek and wait for the one who will love you above all else after the Lord.  I found Steve after 47 years of living and after kissing a few frogs along the way!  Oh well.  Sometimes you can’t tell a prince from a frog until it’s too late!  Yet when we trust the One who knows and numbers each hair on our pretty little heads, He will bring your night in shining aluminum*, or is that armor (?) at just the right time.  The trials and adventures of life come alive when shared with your intended beloved.

I used to say that I could make a relationship out of anything.  I was dumb and wrong.  Settling for less only brings heartache.  I now see too how the Lord empowers me to love Steve beyond my earthly capabilities and he must be doing the same for Steve as he loves me too.  In doing so we are drawn even closer together.  How does one prepare a lunch bag, clean up the kitchen at 4:00 a.m., and make it back to bed when sickly, nauseous, twitching in pre-tic episodes, etc.?  (How does Steve work full time, serve and worship at church, attend to household tasks, and keep up with athletic endeavors after staying up late with me?)  By calling on the Lord to add His increase, He brings blessings beyond the tasks at hand.  As for me, on particularly bad days I don’t do much of anything.  The look in my eyes is all I can give, to say how proud I am that my husband goes to work each day for us, or for me to muster up the strength to take a shower and wear the jeans he likes the best.  It is enough.  It is love.

Thank you Steve.  Thank you Lord!

Steve and Julie looking out over Lover's Leap, Starved Rock State Park, Illinois
Steve and Julie looking out over Lover’s Leap, Starved Rock State Park, Illinois

******************

*  The “night in shining aluminum” story stems from the theme of many romance novels:  the dashing young man will eventually scoop the young maiden into his arms and carry her off into eternal bliss as the sun sets.  I believe I had a similar experience the day of my move from the west suburbs of Chicago, Illinois 200 miles east to be with Steve in northeastern Indiana.  We met on Yahoo Personals and had a fairy tale long distance relationship for longer than my Prince Charming desired.  Each time we parted to make the long drive home he would tease me about running off to be with him in Indiana!  The tell tale moment finally came on moving day in November of 2007.  The movers had packed the 24-foot box truck with all of the earthly possessions from my beautiful condo near the Dupage River.  We were standing in the parking lot about ready to go when he popped the question.  Steve looked at me and said, “Julie I’m going to ask you one last time:  will you come away with me to Indiana?”  I jumped into his arms with a resounding “YES” and off into the beast of shiny aluminum we went!  My prince had come for me at last . . .  :J