Lost Soul

This morning I woke up thinking about a moment years ago again.  I hadn't thought about this particular moment for quite some time now but it has haunted me for years on and off.  It was a moment when I felt I should approach someone and speak to him.  But I didn't.  I watched him ubruptly remove his button-up shirt in frustration, throw it in the back of his truck, and drive away.  I think I might have called to him because I felt the desire to talk to him build at that moment.  But it was too late and I let it slip away.  I never saw him again.

I think about him now and then.  I wonder where he is or what he has done with his life.  I wonder where he has ended up.  I had looked him up online before, but never was able to find anything.  He never was the big social media type I guess.

But this morning he came to my mind again and I thought I would try again to look him up online.  And there he was.  The mug shot made him look harsher and he has facial hair now.  The light has completely left his eyes and I couldn't help but cry.  Now he's a registered sex offender.  I have no idea what the circumstances were in his charges but it still made me so sad because of where he has ended up.

I wonder what kind of change I may have had if I had followed that prompting in that moment when he was leaving the parking lot in his truck. I think back and picture his face and I can imagine him thinking "I'm never coming back here.  Ever."  Maybe I could have given him the hope to return.  Maybe I wouldn't have made a difference at all.  Still, it made me feel so sad that I didn't do it when I had that opportunity.  When I felt that prompting.

But then I remembered a talk I heard or read once a long time ago and I wish I knew who said this, but I can't remember.  He said that God is aware of all of us.  He loves all of His children and would never make it so they had just that one shot.  He would always give them many chances to make good decisions or do what is right.  I was not this guy's one shot to being better.  This missed prompting of mine wasn't his only opportunity.  God is still aware of him.  It made me feel a little better.  I cannot blame myself.  But now I have a new perspective on people.  I don't think I ever have felt compassion for a registered sex offender before in my life!  But I do now.  It goes to show that even people who make dispicable mistakes are God's children.  That boy had a hard home life growing up.  I don't know what he had to go through but I witnessed its effects.  He could have been a good kid.  He could have turned into a good man.  My heart breaks for him and all I can do now is pray and hope that I can listen a little closer to those promptings from here on out.  This is the repentence I must do to let that moment go.

I will never forget the way he looked the last time I saw him.  I hope he gets the lights in his eyes again someday.  I really do.

Catch 22

I go through cycles in my marriage where I'm satisfied or happy and then somehow I begin to feel unsatisfied or unhappy and then I pick myself up again or figure something out and find happiness again. It's never my spouse's fault. It's usually just me going through my weird cycle.

Last year was a really big down-time in my cycle and after I got out of it, it's been going pretty well. Then a couple days ago I decided to tell Jimmy how I didn't like that he never tells me anything. He's not one to talk to me. It makes me feel unimportant to him because it's even little things or things that I really should know about. Like if his mother is coming to visit or if we're going to be going somewhere that day. He doesn't tell me anything until I think to ask. It's become more than irritating. It hurts my feelings. He tells me he just doesn't like to talk. However he talks to other people just fine, it seems. And if he doesn't tell me things it makes me feel like he doesn't think I need to know anything because I'm not important enough.

I told him this and he just looks at the ground or something. Gives me an excuse like he forgets or whatever.

I get this reaction, and I keep going until he is so exasperated with me, he has to walk away. I don't blame him because if I keep saying this over and over it starts to sound like nagging - but I don't feel like he understands so I keep talking to try to explain it to him. We really need to work on this.

Anyway, during that day we weren't so happy with each other and it came down to this.

I was waiting for him to say something - say he's sorry, anything! He was waiting for me to give him a hug. He even awkwardly came into the bathroom while I was fixing my hair and put his arms around my waste from behind and closed his eyes. But honestly hugs don't feel like anything to me from him. I wanted him to say something.

I didn't respond to his hug.
He didn't say a word.
The day continued.

Later I wrote him a note in church (FOR SHAME! :) ) and explained to him that I was sorry I was being upset but I really felt unimportant when he didn't tell me things. He wrote back that he had told me before that when I talk to him I need to give him a hug first so he'll listen better. But the thing is - I don't like giving someone a hug before we reach understanding and stuff through conversation. It's hard for me to do that when I feel tension. But it's hard for him to feel like talking with tension and a hug helps that for him. So we're trapped.

One of us has gotta give.

I quietly decided within myself that I would make more effort to give him a hug when he comes home from work instead of waiting for him to come give me one. Honestly, I've always been waiting for him to talk to me when he gets home but he doesn't. He just eventually comes and gives me a hug and I feel like he's just...ahem...wanting to warm me up for later...and it turns me off, actually. I need the conversation.

Anyway, so I decided I would give him a hug first. Maybe giving him HIS love language first all the time will make him want to give me mine. Maybe if I'm giving him his physical touch more often, he'll start to talk to me. Here's hopin'.