Going through life changes, we have to sit back and evaluate our reality. I have been thinking a lot about titles vs position, labels vs status. We can have the name, but never be the wife.

I made the decision a few months ago to contact a lawyer and consider another divorce. Being a Christian woman, I feel like divorce is a bad word, similarly to “pregnant” when you’re a teen. After having some opinions shared and comments made, Holy Spirit wanted me to look at my relationship and evaluate it, with Him.

I realized I was given a title, a name, but never allowed to hold the position. We are given these titles to define who we are, but I feel like people fail to realize just because we do have that label doesn’t mean we were ever allowed to step into it.

Steven chose a life of drugs and prison, the Bible tells us that a husband should lay down his life for his bride. I wanted Steven to choose me. I wanted the name to fit who I was; it didn’t. Making MY decision to pick myself after all these years, now apparently I’m placed in this other labeled box, divorced. I’m expected to heal and move on in a certain manner. I’m expected to process this how a Christian lady should, by a strict outline.

Why should I be stuck with the title and outline when I never held the position? As I grieve the hopes and dreams I’ve held for 15 years, I know that my God is faithful. He will fulfill this extreme longing to live out the title of wife.

Today, I want to take you guys on a journey with me; I was in Insane School for the Selfish. Surely at some point in your life you’ve thought that you were going crazy, literally. I’ve done that a lot, but rarely have I ever spoke out loud what was going on in my brain while doing it. Still to this day, I have no clue what Steven was thinking while observing my insane behavior and words; I do know that in some way it had to affect him also.

Although I have done some pretty ugly things in my life, I thought of myself as a good person, definitely NOT selfish. God decided to open my eyes. At the end of 2019, Steven was going through court for resisting arrest. He didn’t have a license so he chose to pull over, get out of the car, and run from the police. (I’m literally rolling my eyes writing that.) Apparently he had enough sense to know running on foot is a misdemeanor, but in a vehicle is a felony. The police knew who he was before they pulled him over, so I can’t figure out the logic from his perspective. But that’s besides the point. The judge was very gracious and told him to come back in January of 2020 to turn himself in.

Fast forward to March, I’m not even sure of the day. Remember I said I told God I wouldn’t interfere, ha yea. Steven had ran his truck off the side of the road, perfect time for me to notify the police where he was. That way they could arrest him (he had a warrant then). Williamson County did. They picked him up and took him to jail. Relief on my side. Sounds awful I’m sure, but if you love an addict you get it. Steven called me about 3 hours later FROM HIS CELL PHONE! I’m like, “how are you calling me?” He informed me that because of the virus and the small nature of his charges, they wouldn’t him. All I could think was that’s what happens when you try to force stuff and it’s not the right time.

As the court date approached, I found myself repeating to Steven “this time in jail will be different”. I was so hopeful, knowing my God was going to break that addiction off while he was there. I promised God to stay out of the way and just allow him to have his way. When the date came and Steven left the house telling me he wasn’t going to court, it broke me. Literally broke me. I fell to the floor crying so hard, mad at life and God. I had told Steven if he didn’t go to court, he couldn’t come back home. He left that morning with all his things. But I just knew God was going to convict Steven and have him in that court room; he didn’t.

I allowed Steven back home, and that’s when I started to see. I’ve heard over and over that I’m a codependent, blah blah. (Not in my head, hell I took care of us, what you mean.) For some reason, I decided to search that word and read this very long article about it. As I was reading the scenarios, it hit me. This IS you Amanda. I begin to see that I wanted Steven to love me the way I wanted to be loved and when he didn’t, the games started. It was like I was being potty trained from codependency. At first, I just learned about it, realizing I do that. Then, I got to a point where I knew what I had just done, but had already done it, so I would call Steven telling him I’m sorry for acting crazy. That crazy could have been me manipulating him by the “if you do this then I’ll do this” game, or by starting a huge fight game, or even the punch Steven in the face game. It depended on the day, or moment really.

After becoming aware quickly after I had done whatever it was I was doing, I then become aware of what I was doing when I was doing it, but powerless to stop myself. (That’s the part Steven probably thought I was possessed.) I would start a “game” but swiftly stop and have a melt down. I would tell Steven I was replacing God with him. I wanted Steven to love me more than I loved and wanted God. Don’t let me down play that. Picture me crying, snot crying, fighting my own thoughts out loud, back and forth. He would just stare at me, like uh yea Amanda you’re supposed to want me to love you. But that’s not how it was meant. Everything I did, whether good or bad was in hopes Steven would love me. It was selfish. I had portrayed it as me loving him or just trying to help him, but in reality it was for me. Oh how our enemy likes to distort the truth in every form.

Steven got arrested again in April and has been in jail waiting on a court date since. (And for the record, I had absolutely nothing to do with that arrest; I truly stayed out of the way.) If Steven wouldn’t have came back home, I would have continued to blame him and his addiction for ALL our problems. People close to me have watched me slowly change over the last few years, but from this particular arrest to now, I have transformed, reaching a milestone for kindergarten graduation from the nut job school.

In all seriousness, our hidden selfish desires become a visible mess. When we allow a person: a spouse, a friend, a parent, to take the rightful place of God, we set ourselves up to feel insane. People become our hope, our joy, our pebble. I say pebble because they can never live up to the weight those loads carry. However, God can. You can become codependent on The Rock, our firm foundation, knowing your efforts don’t come back void. Don’t let self-seeking put you in the school of crazy!

The last few weeks, I’ve been flooded with memories and flashbacks from this year. Sad, hurtful ones, of course. I try to force them out of my mind. Reminding myself that I chose to forgive so I no longer hold emotions from the events. Much easier said than done though. Choosing to forgive someone who has hurt you or someone you love is very hard, and as humans we tend to hold on to the memory as if bitterness and anger could protect us from it happening again.

Driving through Hickman County and past the hotels in Dickson are triggers for some of my more recent hurts. I chose to remarry Steven in September of 2019, not having any idea how it would turn out this time, but knowing that I had told Pastor Jamie I wouldn’t back out for the 4th time; no matter what I was going to be there. Steven was doing good; but shortly after he wasn’t. Within a few months, I had made him leave home again. Leaving him to sleep at one dope house to the next or even in his truck. Randomly, I would meet him at a hotel or park in the dope house driveway to spend some time with him. Although I was married, I was alone. Alone physically, mentally, and emotionally. If you’ve ever truly loved an addict, you can relate to the hurt and chaos it causes. It’s a hard life for all involved.

The devil whispers these thoughts, these memories in my mind to try and snag me with fear. He wants me to dwell on the what if’s. What if I wait on Steven and he does this my entire life? What if I could be okay with someone else and I just let it pass by for Steven? What if Steven never comes back home? What if I’m not different than before and we run back to our insane circle? BUT, the Bible tells me to think about what is true, right, noble, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. We get the choice of what we dwell on. We can allow one bad thought to turn into a huge downward spiral of junk, or we can replace the thought with truth. As the hurt fills my heart, I get to say, “no, I forgave that; it’s gone, my hope and faith are in God, not Steven.”

My boss told me once that unforgiveness was like drinking poison and expecting it to harm the other person. When we drink poison, it causes damage to us, but forgiving someone is healing for us. It allows you to take the weight off your shoulders and nail it to the cross. What memory keeps replaying over and over in your head feeding you it’s venom? Lay it down, speak out the truth; forgiveness equals freedom. I may not know what my future looks like, but I get the peace of knowing whose hands it is in.

Have you heard of some people choosing a word for their new year instead of a resolution? Last year at Thanksgiving my mother in love asked me what my word was. Hmmm. Never had I thought about doing this for myself until that moment. I prayed and asked God to tell me a word for 2020. Not hearing a thing, I decided I was going to go with faith. January 12th, I realized faith was not my word but refuge was. I don’t know if you know the definition of that word or not, it sounds nice, living it out is a different story.

Being safe during trouble. How fitting. It has played out all year long. From Steven relapsing, avoiding court, going to jail (still to this very day, we don’t even know for how long), getting triple the amount of charges IN jail; to my apartment being searched for firearms and fake money, being arrested on 2 felony conspiracy charges; to a tragic unimaginable accident within my immediate family. With every part of it, God has used it for my growth. He is rising up a voice, and my resistance has transformed into crazy obedience.

Unlike most Christians, in hard times I would run away from God and everyone else. I liked to seclude myself, alone with the lies. Early in the year I was talking to a client and reminding her to chase God even when she’s happy. What that did was actually remind me to chase him even when I’m not. Isn’t it funny how sometimes what we say to someone else is really for us? After that conversation, my stance shifted. I wouldn’t allow myself to be enclosed with the darkness, letting the enemy whisper his down right lies anymore. Instead, I took out the light that is graciously given and was filled with the truth.

While I can tell you all the bad things that have happened this year, I want to reveal the good. If you know me on a personal level or went to school with me, you would know I do NOT like to be the center of attention. I am very timid. Salon me is different from life me (in case some of you are like whhhattt?!?) In class if we had to do anything in front of others, I was the one saying just give me a zero please and thank you. In my first women’s life group, there was maybe like 15-20 women, during prayer request time, they would just know to skip over me because I wasn’t saying anything. But God. He’s so funny, isn’t he. He has placed me on the prayer team at church. Doesn’t sound like a big deal right? I walk in front of everyone (my church is pretty big) along with 4 others and wait for whoever needs prayer to come during the altar call.

Last year, that same mother in love told me she saw me being on the prayer team. A few weeks later, like literally 3, this sweet woman named Miki told me the exact same thing. If these weren’t Christian ladies I would have asked if they were smoking crack together, but I just laughed it off. Sure. After church opened back up, from the rona, before the prayer team was allowed back at the altar, I felt the Holy Spirit tell me to go to the altar. Obviously I argued about it. No way was I doing that. As communion time was approaching, my heart was racing. Then I started to cry. My sister asked me if I wanted her to go up front with me. That would have been an “out” for me. Yes. Much more comfortable. BUT, I said, “no this is something I have to do myself.” 🤨 Wait, I just said that. Anyway, I did it. Turns out, I was the only one who went up there that service to kneel. I told God I didn’t know what I was doing, but there I was with my mustard seed, do what you want with it.

Two weeks later, I was doing Miki’s hair and she brought up the prayer team to me again. I said no and went on about my day. The next morning, God told me he was ready. I text Miki telling her I wasn’t ready but apparently God was so I wanted to be on the team. She replied that she literally was just praying over that. It’s been a few months since then, but I am still very nervous. However, I do it anyway. My prayers are getting louder, more intense, and really just more special. I can hear the Holy Spirit better and feel peace during all the chaos. I am breaking generational curses and bondage off my family. My obedience was what God was looking for.

My advice to you today would be that no matter how crazy you feel or something may seem, when you hear from God listen. It isn’t always for us, sometimes something you do could rescue your sister from being engulfed in flames. Or what you do could drastically change your great grandchildren from addiction or free your neighbor from hatred. Sometimes it IS for us. Leaving your seat, walking up to the altar alone having no idea of the why, could totally transform you. Be brave and seek refuge from our good Father. Just because life looks rough right now, it doesn’t mean something beautiful won’t come from it. ❤️

My plan when starting this blog was to write portions of my story mixed with some journal like pieces. Not long after my posts started, I was arrested. I’m sure some of you have seen the posts and that others will be taken back by what you just read. I was charged with two felonies: conspiracy possession of heroin and conspiracy introduction of heroin into a penal facility. I have been extremely ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated that my name is linked to the situation. I also know that not one of those feelings come from God. Sooo, here I am putting myself and my own life on blast hoping that someone can recognize an issue within themselves and seek true fulfillment.

I have an addiction. Not one of substance, but of longing. I want so deeply to be loved. Truly loved. Unconditionally love. I have failed in this certain area over and over in my walk with God and in my growth. While I have surrendered many things, this is my greatest struggle. Even as I’m writing this post, I continue to pray that God would stop my hunger for man to love me (in the aspect that I find wholeness in them). I want you to know that in no form do I judge any addiction. Some addicts struggle with drugs, some with alcohol, others with cigarettes and food, some even have an addiction to lying and manipulation. People like me, we struggle with wanting attention, affection, to be desired, to not be alone, to fit in, and to please people.

I did NOT try to help anyone get drugs into the jail, but because I want to be loved so badly, I put myself into the position for me to be accused of it. Our actions have consequences even when we intend them for our own good. Because I have the desire for Steven to love me the way I (and I would underline I a million times if I could) want him to, I have done many things I knew I shouldn’t have or things I didn’t want to. If you know Steven, well, sometimes I did stuff just to shut him up. That night, there was a supposed plan that I supposedly had knowledge of and gave someone a ride to get drugs to take back into the jail. I was only told he had no way home and needed a ride.

My point of this post isn’t to prove my innocence; I truly believe if you know me then I don’t need to prove anything; you know my heart. I want people like me to understand that man, people, will never fill the void that you feel. You can move all the mountains for someone, even get arrested and go to jail for them, but they can never fill what God created us to long for. Although I wasn’t completely aware of all the things I did, I was aware of the problem after my third marriage still wasn’t enough for me. It has taken years and much searching to find most of the little, deep rooted things I do that are actually hurtful and harmful to my own self. I trust that if you have this same issue, you will realize that you do too.

Here is where I really just expose myself. I’ve decided to make a list of behaviors you can look for to see this addiction in yourself. Each one of these I have personally done, with the exception of sleeping with a married man (that I know of anyway). Of course there’s more than just these like: drinking, smoking pot, cutting myself, etc. just to numb the pain I would feel when abandoned or rejected.

• You’ve cheated or alway have a “back up” in case the relationship you’re in doesn’t work.
• You’ve been married multiple times. You move from one relationship to the next one quickly, sometimes moving in together within weeks.
• You’re clingy or chase after people who make it obvious they don’t really want to be in a relationship with you. (This also includes chasing people who aren’t even available, which could be physical like being married or emotionally.)
• You change your looks in hopes of being noticed. You send or post pictures that you know are seeking affirmation or attention.
• You have to lie to cover up talking to a particular person or people. You lie or play the what if game to get a reaction.
• You worry more about what people think of you than worrying about what’s right.
• You scream or throw a fit if you aren’t loved like you want. Meaning you cannot control the situation and you act a fool.
• You feel the need to physically or mentally hurt someone when they aren’t filling your needs and wants.

I also want to point out that this doesn’t just have to be from a lover. You can seek love from a mother/father figure, friends, or just people in general. I don’t know how to make the struggle go away, but I can lead you to the One who does. I woke up on a certain Sunday and wanted this relationship with God that I saw in others. I wanted that true joy and happiness. Since then, I have actively pursued just that. It’s been almost three years, and I am constantly growing or changing. I can’t lie, accepting that I have (and that’s present tense) a problem and trying to heal from my past and current situations has been/is extremely painful and difficult. However, I wouldn’t trade the woman I am today (and becoming) for nothing, not even an innocent verdict.

I tried to leave you in suspense with the first part of my story, or maybe this next part is just really hard for me to write. It really is hard for me to tell the whole world my darkest days, the horrible and hurtful things I’ve done. You may see me differently, but my hope is that you understand a hurt child turns into a hurt adult who hurts others and their own self, leaving a path of destruction.

Steven had got home from doing a six year prison sentence; we were 21. I remember the first time I seen him after so many years. Of course, we were instantly drawn to one another and talked all night. We had our fun. But, soon enough he got himself into trouble again; off he went to prison for another three years. A long repetitive story for another day. I told him and myself that I could wait on him, but that lasted only a few months.

I had a few, or maybe more than a few, other short relationships, back and forth with my ex too. I got pregnant again. I hated my life, my self, and that baby. I’m still not sure how I was even able to feel that way, but that’s how it was. I scheduled to have an abortion; when I got there I was so sick; I asked the person who took me to please take me back home. He told me we weren’t leaving until I did it. Well, I did. It was absolutely horrible. I remember them giving me an IV with just a vial of something in it keep me calm. It hurt so much that I was actually screaming and one of the nurses put her hand over my mouth, telling me I would scare the other girls. What a nightmare. Literally. I regret a lot of things I’ve chose to do, but this is one that I was very ashamed of. I didn’t understand how it was possible to hate something I created, but I did.

After Steven had been gone to prison for about six months, I met Josh on a girls’ night out. Within weeks of meeting, I was being kicked out of the apartment I was living in. Josh gave me and my kids a place to live; two months later I was pregnant with my third child, Breeleigh. Our relationship was really rough at the beginning, but after Bree was born our focus shifted to her and it wasn’t so bad. After getting pregnant again, I decided to marry him, which didn’t last either. When Skye was about seven months old. I left him to be back with Steven, who had got back from prison a few months earlier. I divorced Josh and married Steven a few weeks after it was final.

All throughout my life, I had been exposed to many things: drugs wasn’t one of them. (I do have addicts in my family, I just never used drugs myself, but like before a story for another time). Steven is an addict. I learned quickly about how drugs consume your life AND your family’s. I worked, but gave everything for Steven’s habit. In my head I would tell myself I didn’t want him to steal to get anything, thinking that would keep him from jail. I eventually had nothing. I couldn’t even feed my kids. Thinking it was best for them, I sent them to be with their dads for a short period of time. In July of 2014, Steven got arrested and sent to prison for three years; he violated his probation by not completing rehab.

My heart was shattered, I remember laying in my bedroom at my brother’s house crying myself to sleep. I had nothing but a bed to sleep in, my kids were gone, I had no husband which just happened to be my best friend, I had no money or car. It was a very hard adjustment for me, but with him gone I started to change. I got my job back at the salon; the women there helping me get to and from work. Annette, the owner, giving me grace from up and leaving before, helped me to build myself a business. I got my kids back from their dads, got us a car, and finally our own place to live. For the first time in my adult life, I had a place that was mine. I wasn’t using a man for a place to live. But, with that responsibility came a different form of bondage for me. I helped set a man in prison (not Steven) up to make a whole lot of money. He would give me enough to make sure all my bills were paid and extra if I needed or wanted something. This man knew I was lonely and fed off my vulnerability; I was blind. That money had me on a hook; I believed I needed it. I even developed an emotional attachment to him, letting Steven and all his nonsense fall to the back burner. This consumed my life for almost three years. You’re never really warned of the power money has over your life, how it becomes your most prized possession.

Steven came home in October 2016; I really had no idea what to expect but it definitely didn’t turn out how I had dreamed the 27 months he was gone. We ran in an insane circle. Maybe you’ve been in one? You know what I’m talking about. Doing the same thing expecting something different to happen, just knowing that this time it would turn out better or at least different. It doesn’t.

I was turning 30, divorced three times. Yes, by this point I had divorced Steven too (2017). Looking to find the “true love” or “soul mate”, needing this major void to be filled. It was apparent no man was going to do that. I was attached to Steven sexually, attached the other inmate emotionally, and attached to a few others mentally. Using all of them for whatever need or want I had at the moment. But here’s where it truly changes (I had lied and told myself I was changing before, I did just not in a good way), this increasing desire in my heart drew me to seek something new. I was ready to GROW…..

Do you ever feel like you need to make sure that someone who hurts you knows they hurt you? I’m assuming we all feel that way. I know I most definitely do. After all, God gave us a mouth for a reason right?

Just last night, Steven lied to me. I know. I’m a woman, we know everything. But you get this gut feeling like, “uh yea you’re not being real with me”. He’s in jail so our conversations are strictly over the phone and an occasional video visit. Instead of arguing with him last night, I decided to just sleep on it. Thinking this morning when he calls I will tell him I know he’s a liar, I don’t appreciate it, and to not call again until he can be honest.

During my alone time with God this morning, he’s like “nah girl we ain’t doin that”. The Holy Spirit convicts me, when Steven calls I am to tell him how good of a man he is. I am not to remind him of how he failed and how I just know because I know. It isn’t my responsibility or burden to change Steven or fix him. I get to love him.

Many times we want to make sure someone knows they hurt us, because we believe that will keep it from happening again. We use darkness (my mean words) to take away the darkness (lies). In reality, only love can do that. I encourage you today to speak life into someone or a situation that you would much rather just punch in the face or cuss out. Tell them how good of a person they are. Allow God to convict them instead of you.

Isaiah 42:16 – I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.

Words. What’s the saying? “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me!” Oh what an incredible lie that is. Words hurt more than the sticks for sure; I’m pretty positive words hurt longer than the stones too. As the bruises fade, the sting of what was spoken doesn’t seem to disappear.

Words are funny; funny as in something that is meant to come out one way but the listener hears the exact opposite. I wonder how that happens? Do we really hear what we want to hear?

Lately I have found myself trying to encourage certain women. I have this longing to help them grow deeper, to understand the love God has for them. I want them to be victorious. However, today I was ripped apart by words. My heart torn into shreds by women who don’t even want to see my heart. I was told that I’m a liar, I’m manipulative, I’m jealous, I’m selfish, that I’m trying to tear apart a family. All the contrary to what I want to be.

Sometimes our words are used to uplift someone, other times the enemy uses what we say to damage. He purposely distorts our hearing. What do you hear when people speak to you? Are you hearing the love they have for you or the flaws you find in your own self? Is it what they are saying or what you are hearing?

I pray that every lady that takes a moment from their day to read this stops and considers not only how they speak to other women but also how you hear what women say to you. Father God come and open our ears to really hear. Protect our minds from listening to lies. Help us to take our every thought captive only believing what comes from you; help us to discern the difference. Amen.

To try to understand me, you need to know my story. Here’s Part 1:

I was born in 1987; I get told I’m still a baby a lot. My childhood memories aren’t the good ones that give you the warm fuzzy feeling. I remember a whole lot of anger, fear, and absent parenting. There were a few, very few, good things thrown in. We would spend the summer weekends at the Tennessee River, loved it. I still love all things water to this very day.

At the age of 10, I changed. Being completely innocent minded evaporated quickly when I was molested and decided it was my own fault; I could get love and attention by anything sexual. My parents also divorced around the same time. Going from 5th to 6th grade, I was a different child. Meeting Steven in my new form, at 11, we bonded instantly. Little did I know then, he was a hurting child too.

My sister and I would spend a week with our dad during Christmas vacation. At the age of 13, he decided that I was too much and told me I was not allowed to see him anymore. Around a year later, this older boy that I had a crush on, Cliff, decided to call me. In desperation for love, I clung to him. My mom had moved to a new house when I was around 15-16, pretty much pushing me out. She told me that if I wanted to live there I could sleep on the couch. I left and moved in with Cliff and his family. We got married when I was 17, getting pregnant a month later.

I became a mother in March of 2006. Jenna was such a good baby and I just loved every moment with her. Within the next year, my sister had become too much for my parents to handle, and they pushed her out. She moved in with me and suddenly I was a mom to not only a little girl but a teenage girl too (I think she was 14/15). In 2008, I gave birth to Carter. I was about to turn 21. Cliff had taken a job in Texas cleaning up from hurricane Katrina. I became severely depressed, begging him to please come back home. He would tell me he couldn’t; he didn’t have work here. Again, I suddenly became different. I started talking to other men; I started drinking and going out; I started cutting myself.

Chelsea, my precious little sister, and I really created a bond. She was there to pick up my slack, and I was there loving her. We didn’t know it then, but that set us up to become the bestest of friends. Right now, today I see her as one of my babies. I took her in when she was told she was just too much work, and she loved me with no judgement at all through all my darkest moments. Some days I don’t understand why I was born into the family I was, but she is the blessing out of that mess.

Part 2, I will tell you about my dark days. I will tell you about the horrible choices I made and the people I hurt. Good thing I am forgiven as far as the East is to the West.