I think I'll keep this one.

I've been spring cleaning. Well... cleaning might be stretching the truth a bit. I've been getting rid of junk. I'm getting ready to move into a different apartment and I've decided it's time to get rid of all the things I don't use anymore or clothes I don't wear - code for 'I'll never fit into again.'

One of the first projects I tackled was the coat closet. I know that may sound strange, but I hoard jackets like most women hoard shoes. Most of them are for sentimental reasons. The jacket that was a gift, the jacket that reminds me of my daughter, the coat my husband bought for me, the coat I wore on our favorite vacation, my high school letter jacket.

Yes... my high school letter jacket.

It's worn and the leather is cracked, but I remember the day my father bought it for me. There was only one place in town you could get one and it wasn't cheap. I wanted one so bad, but I knew how much of a sacrifice it was for my parents to get me one. I had already decided I wasn't going to ask for one. I had mentioned it a couple times, but I couldn't take the guilt, so I dropped the subject. There were other things more important.

I remember when I found out I was going to earn a letter my freshman year. I was so excited. I got the various pins I earned, but not the actual letter. We weren't allowed to have a 'letter' until we were sophomores. My sophomore year rolled around and sure enough, I received my letter and some more pins. A couple days later, to my surprise, my dad asked me to meet him in town at the shop where the letter jackets are sold. Why? "Because if you're going to keep earning all this STUFF, you might as well have the jacket to put them on." Did I argue with him? NO!

By the time I graduated, that letter was full of pins. Did I do it for my dad? Maybe. Did I have something to prove? Maybe. Did it make me strive to do better? Most definitely. Was I proud of every pin, every achievement? Yes.

I earned that letter. I earned every one of those pins. Were my motives different than most of the other kids. Probably... but I don't really know that for sure and I don't really care. My dad did something for me that very few people have accomplished in my life. My dad wasn't perfect. He drank as much as my mom did and he wasn't going to get nominated 'Father of the Year,' so why did I cut him so much slack? Why did I give him a free pass?

Because even though he had fallen asleep at the kitchen table waiting for me to come home and I would have to wake him from his drunken slumber, he would always say "Goodnight, Honey, I love you." And on the nights he was still awake, he always asked how my love life was going. Not in a joking way, but in a concerned way, because he really wanted to know. And when he was disappointed in something I'd done, he would talk to me like an adult, like an equal. No yelling, no demeaning comments, no snarky remarks, just a conversation between two people. My dad always made me feel seen... visible. Like my life mattered!

I've made some really stupid choices in my life. Some out of fear, others out of ignorance. But most of them were reactions to being hurt. That's how we deal with life... someone hits a nerve and we react. Lots of people will tell you that the solution is controlling how you react. I disagree. I think the solution is finding that one nerve that sets you off. If you can pinpoint that one nerve, the trigger that sets off your bomb, you can manage the rest from there.

I know my 'one nerve.' I know most of my really bad choices were made as reactions to being hurt, by someone making me feel invisible. But head knowledge and heart knowledge are two different things. I can scream and yell at someone about how they made me feel unwanted, and still never take responsibility for some of my actions and reactions because of that 'one nerve.' That 'one nerve' has been exposed my whole life. It didn't start with the domestic violence or even the rape. It started as a child.

We all have that 'one nerve.' The trick is acknowledging it, finding it, and not letting it make decisions for us. Now that I've acknowledged it and decided it can't make decisions for me anymore, I notice it more often. I'm shocked at how many times my feelings get hurt and that nerve gets exposed. It makes me realize just how much power I've let that 'one nerve' have.

The best part is that I know it's based on a lie. I'm not invisible. The God that created heaven and earth knows everything about me. One of my favorite quotes is: How cool is it that the same God that created mountains and oceans and galaxies… Looked at you and thought… The world needed one of you too!

So, yes, I'm keeping the letterman's jacket. It's a nice reminder of many things, but mostly, that I'm not invisible. And sometimes I hear his voice saying, "Goodnight, Honey. I love you."

Psalm 139:16 You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.