My version in response to this…
“I am praying for you.”
Translation: You matter and I am concerned. Practicing the art of surrender and trust is so hard for me whether it’s to, “trust the process”, “trust the universe”, “trust the pole”, or anything else. This includes surrendering you and your outcome. I personally choose to pray to God because my past experiences, my faith, and my heart make me believe this is the most loving and viable option.
“If you don’t get COVID-19, we will claim God shielded.”
Translation: I won’t. I will struggle with why some people did and some people didn’t. I might wonder why a person ignores every request to social distance. I might wonder why they still got it even if they seemed to do everything right. I likely will never understand. Whether I believe in God or not, I will resolve that no human ever has all the answers….so we create our own. This gives us an illusion of control where we truly have none. But humanly, we believe an answer will make us feel better. In the meantime, I will continue to wrestle w God and human reasoning, just as I always do. The answers will be my own, for this is my journey.
“If you do get it and recover, we’ll claim God healed.”
Translation: if you get it and recover, I will be eternally grateful. I will again struggle with why some people got it and recovered while some didn’t. I will choose to believe that, “Jesus wept“ while we wept. I will remember that life and breath are precious and none of us know when our first or last days will be… This matters if a big semi hits us, if we take our own lives, if there is cancer or heart disease, if there is just no reason…Not one human makes it out alive. We can choose gratitude or we can choose constant struggle. Personally, I usually choose a little of both. I don’t know how to do different than that, I myself am human.
“If you die, we’ll explain that God had a reason..”
Translation: this is the biggest copout religious people ever use. I don’t believe God controls us like checker pieces, but I used to. I believed that we were like goldfish swimming around in his tank. Now I believe the saying that I’ve heard so many times. “We are not humans having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings, having a human experience.” This life is not permanent, no matter your belief system.
It is possible that the same results are possible by praying to a telephone pole. Again, my life has led me to this place and I believe the deep joy I experience in the midst of shit is the result.
I recently read that we don’t pray to change God, we pray to change ourselves.
If the same happens by praying to a telephone pole, you change….then good for you or whomever.
I’ve tried endless options as far as beliefs and religion go.
I don’t like religion and I don’t like rules around it. I do like relationship and relationship with God has gotten me through so very much in my life.
Some people can call that a crutch and others say “God is good”.
I believe the latter and I believe that I serve a God who loves us more than I could ever imagine.
None of that changes the fact that I am human and I am infallible. Whether I’m a believer or not, I never get all the answers.
I wonder if life is less about the outcome and more about the journey.
That said, I respect the journey..your’s, mine, and everyone else’s. I’m only walking in my shoes.
My heart hurts this morning. I’m scared and I feel lonely. I could keep quiet and not share this, yet I feel nudged to do otherwise.
I know truth versus my feelings.
I’m not alone. I have a God who is already in my tomorrow and faith does reign over my fear.
I long for something relationally different, yet I am never alone. My God has never and will never forsake me.
Keeping my vulnerability under wraps is me believing the lies. It is me not honoring who I am to save another’s discomfort. It is me not being me.
I do live in gratitude and seek a path of surrender and trust.
Still, I am afraid of unknowns. Sometimes my most honest prayer is a “Lord, please help me with my unbelief.” I know you are there but I’m often not sure that our definitions of “okay” match. I need help trusting that your “okay” is far better.
I lived through a corrective heart surgery at 9 months of age that was a glorious medical miracle. My childhood was shaped by my Grandmas mental illness. There was a stroke that I “shouldn’t have survived”. A divorce that left me reeling. Daddy’s battle with Alzheimer’s. So much more.
I am here.
For whatever reason, I am here.
I am deeply compassionate toward those suffering with mental illness as a result of those childhood years.
The love of and for my family (immediate and extended) is abundant, genuine and solid.
My friends are a balm to my heart. They surround me with accountability, support, love, laughter and insight. They are my framily.
That stroke taught me lessons that nothing else could; it gave me a whole new lens to see with.
That divorce. It sucked. From those married years I have the best two children; glorious beyond anything I ever prayed for. Perfectly imperfect yet perfect for me. An ex-spouse who is my best friend and a growing up me.
Alzheimer’s. I learned to truly find joy in the journey. Daddy and I. Healing, laughter, tears and so much love. Precious memories made all while the memory thief was hard at work. Irony at its best.
Grief taught me…everyone’s path is experienced differently. For me, guttural crying and rolling around on the floor until your bones ache was part of the path. No need to be sorry. It’s my path to travel.
….although your heart physically aches and hope might seem beyond reach, the sun will rise again, one day. In the meantime, let it rain as long as you need rain.
…your experience is normal for You. If and when a plethora of people are feeling concerned, take heed, don’t be afraid to seek help. Medication, counseling, church….find your support and dive into it free from shame.
Always lessons learned. Gratitude sought. Love expressed. Faith over fear reached for.
Here I remain, human as human can be.
In this moment God, I am lonely. My heart hurts. I am afraid. Help me be a light and glorify your heart in the middle of my fear and solitude. Help me love you deeper. Help me strengthen my faith. And please hold me tight. I know there are gifts in this part of the journey too.
May we all seek and savor them.
Be blessed loves.
The cohort gathered to the side, waiting for their turn to receive their diploma and thrilled to be in this moment together. There was safety in this group, they each had grown leaps and bounds. Hearts were filled with adoration for each other, while tummies fluttered with anticipatory butterflies. There was an aura of disbelief that they had actually made it through grad school and to this point.
Her name was called. Feeling strong and proud, she went up the steps, handed her name card to one of the faculty and quietly pronounced her last name. The nod came and she moved across the stage; pausing to have her hood placed by a professor that she deeply admired. The next stop was the university’s President. Her beaming smile was ready for their photo as they shook hands and looked into the camera.
Among the graduation attendees were members of her precious family. The first face she saw walking out into the chairs was that of her beautiful mother. She located both of her treasured children, her big brother and one of her beloved nieces. She felt incredibly loved! Her heart was bursting with joy and gratitude that she was really here.
This was graduation. It would go down as one of the best days of her life. That evening, there was a celebratory dinner, tears, toasts, laughter and love. So much love. Friends and family surrounding her, filling her cup to the brim and overflowing. Her heart was bursting with gratitude and joy. She breathed it all in; still slightly in disbelief that this was real.
She knows herself intimately; yet she senses there is so much more to know. She is an onion, peeling back a layer at a time. This higher education is the first dream she has pursued and seen to the finish line; she stepped into this with full faith and trust that it was exactly where she was supposed to be and all the details would fall into place.
She thinks back to an intensive emotional camp that she and her ex-husband took their two teenagers this last summer, in hopes of bringing healing to the wounds they had caused each other. During that camp; there was an indoor ropes course. She was paired with her beautiful 14 year old daughter, a reflection of her soul. Here is what happened, as told by, ‘her’.
“I was terrified, not of the heights, but that I wouldn’t be able to balance.” (She had struggled some with balance issues since the stroke many years ago. In truth, she struggled with looking or feeling ‘broken’ more than she struggled with balance).
“I asked the person assisting us with the ropes course to please check that I was tightly fastened in, several times.” “They assured me of my safety, reminding me that the ladder could move anywhere and give me an out anytime I needed it.” “I heard ‘C’mon Mom, you’ve got this, you can do this.’ Stella had already crossed the four wide swinging logs and made it to the next platform. I looked at her sweet face and thought to myself, “I cannot disappoint her, again.”
“I held so tightly to the ropes that my fingertips could’ve become engrained in them.” ‘One…two…three…four steps and I made it.” Stella was right there telling me what a good job I did. I watched her cross onto the next platform by crawling through two swinging tunnels. It looked easy enough.
Pfft. Stella’s 14 year old lithe self is alot smaller than my 47 year old cushy self. ” In order to cross from one tunnel into the next, I had to squat inside the first one, step onto a square platform in a squat and drop into the next tunnel.” “This is when my anxiety really started; I could feel my throat clenching as I reminded myself to breathe. My arms ached from the death grip I had on the ropes.” “Still, always my cheerleader, Stella continued to cheer me on.” “I stood up on the next platform, legs and arms shaking. ” I saw the rows of skinny logs that were swinging and began to talk myself into a frenzy.” “Stella was on the other side and right after this was the zipline, which I desperately wanted to do.” “I wanted nothing more than to show my daughter that we were in this together, I trusted her, I would do this.”
“My fear gave way and on the next to the last swinging log, I began to sob. Loud.” “I asked Stella to get a worker to help me.” “She didn’t want to, she told me I was almost there, but I was hearing nothing louder than my fear and doubt.”
“The kind eyed, young girl came to help me. She assured me she could get the ladder but told me that I only had one step left and I would be safe on the steady platform.” “She held out her hand and I took it and stepped across.” “I made it! Disbelief in my success, again.”
“I apologized profusely to Stella. I felt ashamed of my emotional, loud fear and tears that everyone could see.” “I don’t know what Stella saw, she hugged me and I hope, even if she was embarrassed, she was proud of me.”
So…okay…”she” is “me”. This is my own story to own. Here’s the thing I learned from that ropes course. It was an exact mirror to my life. There are numerous things that have been important to me. I get right on the edge of success and I quit. I stop. I freeze. Why? Maybe because I don’t know what’s on the other side. The devil we know is better than the one we don’t know, right? All too often, I yield to my own fear rather than ask for a little help. I had no idea that a ropes course would offer me such deep insight to my life.
One week post graduation…
I’m going through all of the graduation cards and gifts I recieved last week and soaking in all of the gratitude.
It’s not about the sentiments and gifts, though I am deeply thankful for them. They are the cherry on top of the sundae. No way, in all of ever, would I have graduated without the constant love, prayers, support, encouragement, and appropriate ass kickings when I needed them.
For so many reasons, I never thought I’d be ‘here’. My brother knows me well. On my card, he wrote, “What’s next? No reason to stop now.” Because it’s what I’ve done so many times…I stop right before I succeed. (see ropes course example)
I realize that the last week I have been a little frozen, a lot sad and slightly discouraged. What is next? I DON’T KNOW! I like to know, you know?
Last night I had a dream. It pinged me so hard that I woke to write it in my journal so I wouldn’t forget it.
The sage and kind therapist my ex-husband and I saw for three years, Missy, was in my dream. I was in her office, telling her of all my woes. Before I left, she told me she had a gift for me.
She reached up on her tippy toes and pulled a small item out from the back of a cabinet. She held her hand out and in it was a key. She asked me what this key represented to me. Odd question, I thought…even for a dream. Yet, I knew. Missy gave me one of her famously warm, reassuring hugs that let me know life would be okay. Better than okay. I thanked her and left her office.
I took a black sharpie, and on the key, I wrote, “OWNERSHIP.” I can’t stop reflecting this morning as I feel joy and pride swelling up inside my heart. This is my life. I must live it and I must live it well.
This journey has just begun. I have the key to open the doors.
I HAVE THE KEY.
P.S. Stella and I rode together to my graduation.
During the drive, in Stella fashion; “I want to tell you something mom but you can’t get all cheezy.
Me: “Sure love, what’s up?”
Stella: “I am so, so proud of you.” (Immediately followed by a hand and, “That’s it! Don’t get cheezy.”
That is more than enough.
I have this gut feeling that some intensely real part of me has been hibernating for years and like a baby bear coming out of a dark cave, it’s beginning to awaken. 2019 will be my last year of grad school. Working full time, momming, daughtering, schooling, working, interning….blah, blah, blah. It’s going to be a whirlwind of a year! I am amazed when I look back and see how far I’ve come (and I am overwhelmed when I see how far I have to go!)
We humans are ever-evolving, exploring creatures. I am in awe of our capacity for resilience and growth. That capacity gives me hope for us all. It especially gives me hope for myself because I dream of the day I am all grown up in the ways that matter.
Here’s what I am trying to grasp about being a grown up:
- Truly, other people’s opinions of me are none of my business. I spend a great deal of energy trying to ensure that other people are happy and content. Sometimes, I catch myself putting more energy into their well-being than they do. Guess who pays the highest price?
- Self-compassion and self-care isn’t all about bubble baths, long walks, journaling and time for me. It also looks like the icky stuff; hard conversations that need to be had, sticking to a budget, asking for help, making the choices that don’t feel good in the moment but have a tremendous pay-off later. That stuff counts for loving myself well too.
- Structure and routine are not dirty words. I have to learn this somehow. I hate being put in anyone’s box, including my own and find myself easily resisting what is best for me because of that.
- I am a grown up woman, I was made a sexual being, and that is okay. Actually, it’s far better than okay, it is magnificently wonderful. Labels, shame, guilt and not allowing myself to be who I was made to be is nonsense.
- There are people who have wiped my tears away in the most gentle and intimate manner. There are others who squirm away from emotion because it is uncomfortable for them. On the lines of people….some will see my scars as beautiful as they kiss them lovingly and see the miracle of life. Some will see those same scars as a marring of my physical body and they might say less than stellar things. Some will see my stretch marks and mom tummy as unattractive and displeasing; some will see these things as real and soft and safe. Some people might not see them at all. Guess what? Their thoughts ALWAYS have more to do with them and often nothing to do with me. That’s a hard one to swallow when one is a master at ugly self talk, but this is truth.
- My God loves me deeper, wider, bigger than I could ever imagine. I have atheist friends who think my God is a made up guy in the sky to serve no purpose but being a crutch. I have friends who have what I consider to be rigid beliefs, as well as everyone in between. I love them all and I hope they love me too. We are all searching and searching is key. Whether your answer is in logic or faith or anywhere else, it’s your journey. This is my journey.
- ALL of the stuff ALL of the stuff ALL of the stuff is made to take us to a higher level. Someday I will learn to surrender to that, trust myself, trust my God and trust the process. Until then, I’ll keep doing my best. Mostly. Sometimes I will screw up in the biggest of ways.
- Love Wins. Every freaking time. Unless we choose hate. Ick.
- It’s the small things that are really biggest in life. Some of my favorite small things…When my Momma is proud of me (I know, I’m 46, but still, she’s my Mom!), when my kids surprise me with an unexpected hug, sunsets and sunrises, feeling the breeze on my bare skin, sweet kisses, coffee, yummy smells (of course)….
- Gratitude brightens even the darkest, dreariest days. Drop the mask, feel what you feel…but keep the gratitude going.
- Be kind, gracious, loving, tender, merciful and forgiving. At the same time, remember that boundaries are a beautiful thing and that boundaries and walls are not the same, ever.
- I will be unapologetically, unequivocally me, even when it makes me squirm. Especially when it makes me squirm. Simply because I am uniquely, beautifully made and there is only one of me. I love that quote, “Be you, everyone else is already taken.” That’s so right!
The magic is in the mercy. The gift is in the grace. Over and over and over I fail. Over and over and over I receive these compassions. I am surrounded with grace giving, magic mercy making, lovers of my heart and I am intensely blessed.
“Rough times”, she said before she took a deep breath and told herself this was just a season.
My heart has been hurting far more than I realized. My actions haven’t been super congruent with who I am.
This morning, I had a beautifully hard conversation with a dear friend who has proven to be a soft and safe place to land. I am thankful for everyone (and I mean everyone) God puts in my path. I keep getting opportunities to choose what is best for me and somehow, I keep veering toward what is the least good option for me.
My stomach has been churning for days….a favorite thing of mine to do when I’m feeling anxious. A good cure for that..hot tea for breakfast, bone broth for lunch, a BIG ugly cry with a trusted friend and having that same person care enough to not judge and pray with you. Then, a visit with a client who is deeply grateful and a whole lot less ‘fortunate’ than me.
So…another deep breath. Gratitude for all the moments and for my very real faith. Prayers for courage to keep on keeping on, wisdom and a spirit that yields to a purpose much bigger than one of my own creation.
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
Oh geez louise. If there is a mistake to be made lately, I am making it. The struggles are real. I’m trying to comfort myself by reminding myself, ‘this too shall pass’, ‘in everything there is a lesson to be learned’, ‘find the value’ and ‘God’s got me’. Truthfully…I wonder if these things are true. What if this is as good as it gets and nothing is going to ‘pass’? How come I keep getting the same lessons, what am I missing? Am I figuring out who I have always been or am I living out the years I never got to live out (adolescence)?
I bet parenting me is much like parenting a wild 17 year old who is determined to find her own way without undertaking any advisement. So be it, I guess. It’s where I am and I am so entirely sick of fighting with myself that I’m trying to just be. Be me. The challenge…I’m not entirely sure who I am. One day I’m full of maturity, light and goodness…the next day I am determined to be as naughty as can be, wanting nothing or no one to constrain my freedom. But you see…I’m not even sure what freedom means to me.
Forgive my scatteredness, and be thankful I took time to write in my journal before this post in order to ‘sort’ my everrunning thoughts.
I spent time with a fabulous new friend last night, who happens among other several things to be an atheist. I am very much a lover of Jesus and a hater of rules, and I greatly enjoy discussions with those of different belief systems. As long as we can agree to disagree, I find great value in hearing another’s perspective and in sharing mine. I am open to both their story and to telling mine. We are all connected, there is value in each of our stories. This is why I have difficulty when someone is closed to these interactions. Like…what’ so scary about hearing another person’s view? There’s no need to have a change of heart or mind just because there is a different perspective and if a change results…whatever.
I also have a dear, dear friend who happens to be more devoted to his Catholicism than anyone Catholic person I’ve ever known. We have strikingly different views and we’ve had some terrifically difficult conversations. That said, I have the utmost respect for his beliefs and I feel valued when I share with him. I am thankful for that give and take.
On the same token, another one of my dearest friends is an atheist. It’s the same kind of give and take in our relationship and we actually learn a lot from our open heartedness toward each other. We ask each other super tough questions and continue to challenge one another to grow through these fittings together of our puzzles. I guess I can surmise from this that when a person is valued over the need to be right, a very different relationship emerges.
Furthermore, I have many friends who don’t fall into an extreme end of the spectrum but somewhere in the middle. They might be sure of their faith, they may be doubting and searching or they might just be numb and oblivious. There isn’t one of them that doesn’t offer value to my life with where they are and I hope I do the same for them.
So…back to last night with my new friend…. I was very curious about their reasons they hold so tight to their beliefs. They shared and so much of it made complete logical sense to me. During our conversation, I tried to share just the little bit that I could about my faith. It was hard. I am deeply searching and trying to understand the foundations of my beliefs. The faith part is so much easier for me to share. Just like my own life, I’m so much more assured of how to share my feelings than my thoughts, and as a Christian, my feelings are more cemented and easier to share than my logic.
I explained that it was exceptionally difficult for me to understand how I was alive. I made it through an open heart surgery at 9 months of age that was supposed to be done in two parts. As I understand it, they came out in the middle of my first surgery and told my parents that they had to do the rest then or I would ‘be a vegetable’. My Momma tells me that this was the first time she really knew she had faith because she never doubted that I wouldn’t be just fine.
To give a little picture of the weight of the circumstances, I was more tubes than baby, and was one of the youngest babies to ever have this complete correction at such a young age. It was a significant deal. The doctors told my family it was a 50/50 chance of success but not doing it would mean bad things. They did it and I’m obviously here to tell about it. So, why, oh why are there babies with a lesser degree of the same defect that die today still? Why am I alive? Why doesn’t everyone get their miracle?
Then…a pretty healthy life. Fast forward to that big ole stroke when I was 37. That one that ‘should’ve killed me’ and that one where I had to learn to walk again…like an infant. Again…why am I here? So many are not.
So…my new friend asks me what kind of God would let little bitty babies die and me live? An extremely fair question and one I have often wrestled with. Tonight, I wrestle extra hard because the best answer I have is that I’m not God and I have to trust that He has a panoramic view and I have a snapshot. Sometimes I believe this a thousand times over, other times, I doubt everything.
I sure don’t know why God has me here and I’m really wondering how my life is one he’d be proud of right now. I mess up. Alot and quite intentionally. I can be obstinate and determined to create my own path, hurting others along the way of my learning. I can be unfocused and lackadaisical. I am a bundle of pure messiness. It is what it is. I am so deeply grateful for every moment.
A bit weary and overwhelmed, I am searching too often in others and not often enough in my own heart. It’s all okay. I’ve finally found peace with trusting that God not only accepts my doubts, He welcomes them. For when I doubt, I am searching for his majesty when I am so small. I am searching for His peace amidst my chaos.
I am struggling, 100% with the dawning of these new lights…and that’s perfectly okay.