Genevieve C. West

She poured every ounce of her soul into loving you. She would have stood by you and loved you forever.  But you couldn’t take it. Pure Love was too much for you. But instead of finding healing for yourself to be able to accept Love, you left her. You left her for years. Decades even. You left her in a thousand little ways every single day. You left her in such big, undoable ways that no one would have blamed her for leaving you back. But she stayed. And is he loved hard enough to make up for what you couldn’t give. She stayed because that’s what Love does. She turned towards you because that’s what Love does. She held you while you confessed and cried because that’s what Love does. She saw her partner in distress and she loved you and she stayed.  And in repayment for her affection and steadfastness, you made her cry. You broke her heart. You broke your vows. You broke your home. You broke your promises. You broke her hope.  You didn’t believe you could be so thoroughly loved. You were

It’s official. The divorce is final.  I am untethered.  No longer a wife. No longer a “Mrs.” No longer able to afford to stay home with the kids.  No longer able to look forward to being an empty nester who finally gets to put herself first. No longer picturing sitting on the porch in the morning with coffee and the husband of my youth. I am adrift. I float through several days of sobbing and drinking and not getting out of bed and not wanting to go home and forgetting to feed myself and overeating and sleeping too much and not being able to sleep. I send regretful text messages compulsively, knowing I shouldn’t. Knowing I should practice self care rather than lashing out. But I ignore my wiser, saner voice and send them all anyway.  I am flailing. I am suffering. And I do not go quietly.   I do not apologize for saying out loud what I’ve been keeping secret for years.What do I have to lose now? Not my marriage. That’s been lost.  Exhausted from days or weeks or years or decades of wal

The End Of An Era 2006-2022 After 15 years of marriage, Eric and Genevieve are now officially divorced.  Just as their marriage began surrounded by loved ones, the former couple hopes to end their marriage with the support of loved ones as well. Celebrate Life.  Humans come together to acknowledge and celebrate every other momentous event, such as birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, even funerals, so why not divorce too?  We chose to throw a joint divorce party together to signal to our friends and families that divorce is happening, that our divorce is amicable, that they don’t need to choose sides, and to announce to the world that life is changing for the West family!  Setting Intentions. A combined divorce party sets the intention of the type of divorce we’re envisioning. While I can only hope to achieve the co-parenting relationship that @momsoftampa have with their blended families, Eric and I have agreed that we will always put the kids first. And we make a good team! Divorce s

A post-coitus craving for Chinese food led my husband and I to Happy House Chinese Restaurant and Lounge , where their website boasts, "Happy House Happy Bar Happy Food Happy friendly People!" As we approach the weather worn entryway and sticker-clad front door off the parking lot, I realize I need to adjust my expectations. This is not a date night destination kind of place. This is a neighborhood watering hole where North Portland folks come to get more-bang-for-their-buck Chinese food. We place our To Go order in the bright restaurant portion with a petite, soft spoken woman with silky black hair and a sweet smile. We decide to wait with a drink in our hands, so we walk through a set of saloon doors leading us to the noisy, dark lounge. Video poker screens light the path to the bar where the lone bartender sports a messy bun, red lumberjack flannel, and modern, thick, cat eye glasses. Her hardy laugh glides over the noise and stands out. "She's like an evil

Calling Josh 5/23/2017 I picked up my phone to call Josh today. He would have known just what to say. He would have made me laugh. He would have called my husband and made him laugh too. He would have told us stories about his new life in a new place, and invite us to come visit him. He probably would have told an hour long story and then asked advice about a girl. He would have called me "G". Part of me can't believe that I forgot for a moment that he's gone. But I guess that's how it happens. Time changes things. But this new, fresh wave of missing him and mourning our friendship feels like I'm starting all over again. Like the grief scab has been picked off. I sat there with my phone in my hand. "Josh Baumann" on the screen. Ready to call him. Then the realization washed over me, and the agony was fresh again. All my breath forced itself out of me, like my lungs were trying to dry heave the grief out of my body.

I feel cheated. 4/27/2017 My heart is broken. My soul hurts. i still can't believe it's true. some days are easier than others. today has not been an easy day. I keep wanting to text him, forgetting for a moment that he's not there. I wonder how long I'll still pick up the phone to text him. I finally deleted the last text message I sent him today. It was the one where I was asking him if he was ok, because he wasn't answering his phone, hadn't returned Eric's message, and I saw some strange Facebook posts from his mom and niece. It hurt every time I scrolled past it. So now it's gone. No longer reminding me of the first moments when I feared that my friend was gone. I've been here before. I know I'm strong enough to survive this. But right now, today, it just doesn't feel like it. There's a hole inside of me. Some days it's easier to ignore that hole. But not today. Today the hole is swallowing me up. I

A writer needs to write 4/21/2017 Part of me is afraid. Im afraid that if I start writing again, really writing, that the floodgates will open and I won't be able to close them. That I'll be too overcome with emotion and grief that I won't be able to pull it together to function for my kids. This fear is not unfounded. I've experienced this sort of debilitating grief twice before. The first time was in 2003, when my 18 year old sister, Cassie Brown, was murdered. I covered my agony with anger for months. And once I started crying, I couldn't stop. The second time was when I was pregnant with our third child, Ellie. Third child, but fourth pregnancy. When we lost Hadassah around 12 weeks gestation, I distracted myself so that I wouldn't have to feel the loss of my baby. It wasn't until we become pregnant with Ellie six months later that it really hit me and I came to a halting stop while I mourned my baby that I will never meet here on earth.

My friend is dead. 4/21/2017 I can't remember meeting Josh. It feels like he just showed up in our living room one day, and had simply always been with us. Eric said we met him at a Church Home Community back when we were having people over every Tuesday for coffee and brownies to get to know the new folks at church. Back when we had a church home. But I just remember this tall kid with skinny legs and ankle socks, and a military haircut, with an easy smile and contagious laugh. He would sit in our recliner and when he would tell a story, he'd throw up his arms and legs animatedly, making the whole chair rock, and all of us laugh. Josh soon moved into the apartment upstairs from us with Ron, Eric's old roommate. They were family, in and out of our apartment like Joey and Chandler. When people leave Portland, we usually only stay connected on Facebook. But when Josh left Portland, he stayed family. He was still "Uncle Josh" to our kids. He

Amazon.com Widgets Bozeman, Montana 2011 photo by Deeapaulitan Once upon a time... There lived a happy little family who was on the road to achieving  Financial Peace . There was King Eric, Queen Genevieve, Princess Evie (9), and Princess Kaylie (1). One day, King Eric heard God speak. Queen Genevieve, as well as trusted royal advisers, confirmed what God had said.  The one room cabin on 20 acres in Paradise Valley As you know, when God speaks, you listen and obey.  So, six days before Christmas, without a job lined up, and without knowing a soul, the happy little family packed up whatever they could fit into their car, and moved into a one room cabin on 20 acres of land in Emigrant, Montana.  It was a simple time of being together, playing board games, reading their Bible, and playing in the snow. A trip into town to get the mail and go to the general store was the highlight of the week!  During all the excitement of moving to a new land, King Eric and Quee

In one of my recent posts entitled "I Can Dish It Out But I Can't Take It" ( which you can read HERE ), I talked about this thing that happens when I'm called to defend my writing.  It's this debilitating panic that rushes through me.  Even an innocent request for clarification makes my heart pound and my face flush.  I'm still questioning why this is happening!  It's embarrassing and annoying!  I'm pretty sure that my inability to accept criticism comes across as "prideful" or "arrogant".  I'm sure because I've been accused of it. And though I know I have plenty of room to grow in putting on the humility of Christ, this isn't coming from a place of pride! It comes from a place of knowing I'll be crushed under the weight of opposition, so I run and hide to protect myself, to protect my heart. Like I said, embarrassing.  I think it's because I'm pouring my heart out on paper.  It sucks whe

I deserve death. I deserve to suffer. So do you. Even my children do. I make choices every day, knowingly and in ignorance, that I dig my grave deeper.  If Karma were real, I would be so screwed.  So would we all! But you and I don't just deserve death because of our actions.  We deserve death because we were born fallen creatures, rebelling against God with every breath and fiber of our being. We deserve to be punished because we've turned away from God. We deserve death because we're sinners. Thankfully, Karma isn't actually a thing. Sure, we have to put up with consequences from our actions, but it's not a "what goes around, comes around" thing.  Knowing that people would turn against Him, God had already planned for Another to take our deserved punishment so that we wouldn't have to endure it.  That's mercy: Holding back something bad that should be coming your way. Christ took my punishment in

Last December, I wrote a post called The "D" Word ( which you can read here ) about my depression. My doctor, my husband, and I decided to try Zoloft . After just a few days, my husband noticed a difference in me, even before I did. It's now August, and for the first time in my life, I really like who I am.  I like who I am! I feel like I've finally become the Genevieve I was supposed to have been all along. I can think more clearly. My writing just flows out of me. I can pray. By God's grace, I can sense The Spirit even more clearly. I'm happy with my body just the way it is. I don't feel like every little not-good thing throughout the day, from dirty diapers, to tantrums, to bank statements, to haters, compound one on top of another, sending me spiraling into a funk.  I was genuinely fearful of stopping Zoloft, afraid that I'd go back to the place where I was when I started it.  But, thanks to Jon Acuff's ST