Covid 19 Vaccine Dose 1

Hi everyone…
Super vulnerable post here…please scroll on if you aren’t in the mood for my honesty. I’ll still love you.
I hesitated to post the picture of me after I got the first covid vaccine this evening. Why do you ask? Because I was very afraid of judgement or people wondering why I got it now. I am not in health care. I am young(ish), healthy, energetic and not on the phase one list from what people who don’t know me can tell.
If you have been a close part of my life; you know that one of my biggest challenges is admitting that my health history differs from anyone else. I KNOW my life is a miracle, I believe all of our lives are miracles…I’ve just gotten many little miracles that are in my face along the journey. I’m a little prideful (and a lot grateful). Sometimes that pride wins. Never will I willingly place myself in a position to be seen as weak or less than. If that means faking my way through something that scares the shit out of me, I can go there quicker than you can blink your eyes. But on the inside, I am so afraid. That stance is exhausting.
I lived 47 years ago through a major surgery for a congenital heart defect. The odds were 50/50. I am here. I have people I love with all of my heart who lost their babies who had the same defect or even a lesser defect in recent years. Why? I have no answers. Guilt and shame…I do carry those well.
That big ole stroke in 2009 that I fought forever to get through my head that it wasn’t my fault. It really wasn’t my fault. There was a hole in my heart and it let a clot through and the result was that I got to learn to walk again. The biggest gift is the takeaway lessons I got. Life isn’t about staying busy and important; love wins and I can do things I never imagined I would ever have to do. So much more…not in the place to discuss all of that here. I remember the doctor well who indicated I was lucky to have ‘made it’. More guilt. More shame. How many people don’t make it?
I went to the dr yesterday for a little procedure. I had just experienced two of the most painful injections…one in each plush butt cheek. I was feeling weepy and helpless. If you have been subject to lots of ‘being the patient’, you understand the vulnerability of that moment. She chose that time…when I was laying on the table with no way to escape (super smart lady)…to discuss with me the reasons I was ‘high risk’ even though I was a ‘poster child’ for tetrology of fallot and she wanted me to be on the list for the high risk vaccinations. So, to the list I went.
I do not identify myself as a person with a significant health history; I fought long and hard not to do that. I do not want to be known as high risk anything.. I identify as me…a brave, joyful, loved by God, whimsical woman who is whole, surrendered and basking in the warmth of God’s sunshine. That is me. But sometimes I forget and it becomes more important to me to make sure that ‘you’ don’t think me less and I try too hard to explain.

In gracious answer to anyone who rightly wonders how and why I got that vaccination early….there you go. I’m sorry. I know there are a billion of me walking around and I want everyone to get a vaccine sooner than later.
Also, I take no moment for granted; good or bad. Treasure your moments. For real. Before covid, after covid…everything in between…this is your one beautiful life.
I am going to have one little bitty more glass of wine, go to bed and give thanks and prayers for it ALL.
Sweet dreams.

Struggling

“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.