I didn’t mean to.  It was an accident really.  I’m pretty sure it started after I got re-married.  Many of you followed my living with dying story as Friends of Tim Bresenden Fighting Cancer Together.  (That’s a wild ride that I’ll save for another post.)  Long story short, through that unbelievable suffering I received constant affirmation that

 

1.     Miracles happen every day

2.     When you win the lottery you can’t be angry that you only won $50 million instead of $250 million (My life with Tim was the lottery)

3.     God is making a beautiful tapestry out of my life.  I can only see a small corner right now, but He IS at work.

4.     I still have a lot of living and loving to do

 

So, naturally, I decided to be open to love and new beginnings and getting down to the business of creating a new story for my life.  A story of “Love Wins”.

 

After a couple of years, I met a man.  I fell in love, walked down the aisle to say ‘I do’ and BAM!  I’ve got 6 kids ages 5-15 under one roof, a new marriage to cultivate, new church to built community with and NO IDEA how to make it all work.  I was busy creating a new life and just didn’t have time for Facebook.

 

Everyone was hurting.  Our brood still grieving the loss of a parent - each in their own way.  Half of them were in a new school, with no friends and trying to navigate adolescence.  They were grieving the loss of the new normal they had grown accustomed to in a single parent household.  We were newly married trying to figure out how to make locking the door and turning up the music seem like “Date Night”.

 

Now, I can look back and say, “What was I thinking?  Who did I think I was to even try?” 

 

Things started to unravel pretty quickly.  We were in a pressure cooker.  Too many wounds from the past.  Not enough grace.  Dark secrets struggling to surface. 

 

I was treading water – flailing really – telling myself that if I just tried harder love would win.  I fell into despair and just couldn’t bring myself to share it on Facebook. 

 

I couldn’t place my painful present next to the photo of some world-class, 3-course organic meal someone made from scratch while taking the time to take a photo of the finished product in an already cleaned kitchen.  

 

It didn’t even occur to me to ask for help as I scrolled through shares of funny cat videos in my newsfeed. 

 

So I just turned it off.  I literally didn’t look at Facebook for at least a year.

 

When the marriage ended, I was devastated.  The kids were devastated.  My dream of living a new story with a new family was in ashes.  And as heart-broken as I was, I knew that staying in that relationship would’ve been even worse.  At my lowest low, I wondered if I was a bad person for imagining a fatal accident that could finally set me free from my misery.  Scary stuff.  Excruciating.

 

As time and healing went on, I told myself that I was too busy living in the present to be wasting my time on Facebook

 

Technically, I WAS busy living.  In one year, the kids and I rode elephants in Thailand, hiked glaciers in Argentina, Camped in Yosemite, brought home a National Gaelic Football championship from a tournament in New York…it was an exhilarating whirlwind!

 

Last year, I inched back to Facebook.   I could probably count the number of posts on one hand.

 

So, if you were wondering why I left Facebook, now you know.  I said it was an accident, but it wasn’t.  “I don’t have time”, “I can’t share”, “It’s a waste of time” were stories I was telling myself so I didn’t have to admit that I was hiding the brutal side of a beautiful life.

 

Fast forward to today.  It’s 2016 and I’ve made “SHARE” my sacred word. (Thank you, Leone Dawson!)  I’m ready to share my story; Share my dreams and nightmares; Share my epic fails and amazing miracles; Share the burden of those who are brave enough to share those burdens with me and encourage them along the way.

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