Untangled 24: I Seemed Happy

The time for me to leave was coming fast, so packing and purging went into overdrive. The last 30 year of my life needed to fit nicely into my U-Haul trailer. This was a hard thing too, what would I take and what would I leave? I sold some stuff and gave the rest away to those in need. A few days before the move I woke up with the heavy impression to list all of my food on Facebook. I promptly informed the Lord that He didn’t know the rules and you couldn’t list food. I couldn’t shake the impression so I went to the neighborhood page and made a post. After making the post I went about my day. About an hour later I had about 20 responses of people BEGGING for the food. With the shutdown many had not worked and had no income. God was right AGAIN. I scanned the messages until I felt that flutter/pull in my stomach, I recognize that to be leading. I responded to a woman and gave her my address. She said she would be to me by 1pm. I bagged up everything in my freezer, fridge and cabinet and waited for her outside. An old rusted gray Taurus pulled into the complex, it was her. As she put the bags in her car I felt the push to give her some cash too. So I ran back inside and grabbed all the cash in my purse, about $60. I handed her the cash and told her Jesus loves her. She gave me a wide eyed stare, turned quickly and got in her car. I thought it was odd but ignored it, I had so much work to do. About 30 minutes later I had a message from her. She said “I woke up with $20 to my name, I prayed and asked God to help me and my son. I saw your message around the same time. I had to decide between putting it in my gas tank or buying food. I decided to put $10 in my tank to come to you for the food. I didn’t know if the food was expired or if you were even real, but I took a chance. Im glad I did. Thank you” After reading the message I told her to come back I have more for her. I told her to come inside and take anything she wanted. I gave her bags of clothes and money I went and got from the atm. My daughter wanted to give her money too, so she did. We both gave her a big hug and assured her of Gods love and to stay in faith. My life was already on the upswing with that one encounter.

That same day, I posted on Facebook that I had some plants to give away and asked if anyone wanted them. An old friend reached out and said she would take them. She texted me later that day to set up a time. She then asked if she could call me. I said sure. She called, we did a little catching up then she casually asked where I was going and if my guy was coming with me. So I excitedly told her about the dream and that I was going alone. I then kind of trauma-spilled and said it had been almost three years, he hadn’t proposed, he lies, and I don’t trust him, so I needed to cut my losses and move away.

She said, “Good. I’m glad you’re finally seeing your worth. I knew he was lying about the stuff he told you.” She continued, “When he came to my place to get my Costco card a few months ago, my first client was sitting in the waiting room and recognized him. She asked how I knew him. I told her that you were dating him, she made a face and said, ‘Girl, she’d better be careful.’”

I made her tell me what she meant by that. She explained that he was known on that side of town as a liar and someone who takes advantage of women. By this time, I was shaking and my heart was beating fast. She said, “So when I got home from work, I started doing some digging and I started with Facebook because we had several friends in common.” I heard her flipping pages—she had a whole page of information she had been collecting to show me. She read off the names of his ex-wives and children. She told me that she didn’t believe he had cancer. She wouldn’t say why; she just said, “Tell him you’re going with him to his next appointment and watch what he does.”

I asked why she hadn’t told me before. She replied, “Kim, I know you. You wouldn’t have received it, and I would’ve been your enemy. I’m just glad you’re leaving. Just go and don’t confront him.”

I want to take a rabbit trail and say something about this… I didn’t know so many people were sparing my feelings. It bothers me that they didn’t feel free enough to just tell me. I wasn’t mad at her because I knew what she was saying. When I’m down for a person, I’m locked in. I’m a loyal friend and an even more loyal companion, which has been to my detriment in many instances. I was someone who had to see for myself. With me, everyone gets a clean slate.

Here are some after-the-fact community flags that I didn’t get:

• My daughter told me after I got to Texas that her cousin saw him at 3 a.m. at a Maxwell Street Polish stand in Chicago months ago. Someone was on the passenger side of my car, but the cousin couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.

• A classmate got a message from another classmate saying he’s a liar, but because the classmate who knew this didn’t like me, she decided not to tell me.

• My daughter was doing a woman’s brows at work, and a girl in her chair asked how she knew him on facebook. My daughter stopped working and said, “My mom is dating him. Why?” The woman said, “He’s crazy, but don’t tell her or him I said anything. I don’t want to be involved in anything to do with him.”

• A friend saw him in a cellphone store on the phone with a woman but didn’t know if it was me. She did call and ask me. It wasn’t me. He swore it was his daughter, so I left it alone.

• My daughter later did a search and found a mugshot, but she didn’t want to tell me either.

It really pains me that I couldn’t be told. That so many had to hold their “piece” and watch me be made into a fool. I’m not mad, it’s a lesson to me. There is wisdom in a multitude of counsel. I’ve since adjusted myself to not be all in with a shadow. I repent for not asking for or accepting wise counsel. I’m learning and healing as I relive and write this. All those people around me knew but held their peace because I “seemed” so happy.

Take counsel. Accept correction. Be willing to walk. Don’t attach an outcome to any thing or person.