Recovery Mode

Post the "Unwanted News" I find I am in recovery mode.  Dealing with fallout, processing this new reality, grieving the loss of a dream, and accepting this new (unwanted) season of winter.

How to recover from a storm?

I tend to manage the physical aspects (if any) first, and then work on my heart.  This time around I am learning that I am a lousy manager for myself.  I don't take care of myself well because I'm impatient.  I want my body to mirror someone else's life.  I want my emotions to move in fast forward.

I want it all to be gone.  The experiences, the pain, and the loss to all melt into the past and be forgotten.  I don't want the slow process of working through sadness on a daily basis.  No one WANTS that.  Slow processing feels slightly akin to torture.  Emotionally you are regurgitating your grief hour by hour.  Mentally you are running out of stamina for the journey.  You are worn down physically as well.  Spiritually you are out of fresh perspectives that make reliving the pain worth it.  

All you have is a pile of ashes and not one iota of an idea of what to do with this mess.  Everything, inside and out, just sits there like dammed up water.  Both held in place + slowly leaking out (often at random and inconvenient times).

No one wants this, but this is the journey of sorrow.  This is the suffering, pain, grief, hurts that we humans all carry.  Sometimes acute, other times cold, typically calloused over until they are numb.  We all carry pain and we all walk through times of deep sorrow.  

I believe that it is important on this journey to remember that I, you, and y'all are not alone.

You may FEEL alone.  You may LOOK alone.  You may even THINK you're alone.  But you aren't.  This is what I tell myself often: "you are not the first person in history to experience this pain"  Doesn't really help my heart, but it does put my struggles into a better perspective.  I am not alone in this world, and also that I am never alone in Christ.

HE IS WITH ME.  Every step of this season of recovery is marked with His footsteps and mine.  With every step I take, God is beside, behind, in front of, beneath, and above me.  He constantly surrounds me with His mercy and grace.  And those are things I need desperately while in recovery mode.

Unwanted News

I have recently received some unwanted news.  The kind where you attend the appointment expecting the typical protocol and instead you get concerns and unanswered questions.  You expected what everyone would expect from this meeting, but you are handed news that suddenly sets you apart from everyone else. The results aren't what you want.  The reading isn't clear.  The progress isn't on track. Typical becomes atypical.  Expectations are dashed to pieces.  As you walkout of the office and to your car, sorrow buckles in next to you for the drive home. 

It's a good thing you always keep a box of tissues in the car.  You cry out for help, understanding, and ultimately for rescue.  You believe there is One mighty and great who can eliminate this disaster.  There is a God that can make all things right.  Good wins (eventually) and hearts get mended (in time).  It is to Him you pray, beg, and plead for the circumstances to change.  It is to Him, your friend, that you make your appeal.  

And after your emotions rage, you begin to remember truth, He is sovereign.  He is strong, but He is also working for your whole good.  He can heal, but that may not be in His plan.  He can rescue/deliver, but what would we learn in the process?

As I grieve the unwanted news I try to consistently remember the word "theology".  Theology is what gets you through the hard days.  It's what carries you when your emotions are unsteady and untrustworthy.  It's what you pour into your heart when the waters are calm, knowing you will be surviving on it during the next storm.  

Often theology can be seen as a cheap band-aid placed on a gaping wound.  It can sound so heartless and cold.  It can be a filler when you don't know what to say.  It can be used poorly toward those in tough places.  I used to find it both irritating and incomprehensible.  Often asking, why would people say that?  or this means nothing to me right now!

 But to those who have laid a foundation of proper theology down deep in their hearts, it is life.  There is hope and joy in being pointed toward unwavering truths of who God is and what He promises His children.  It is like a familiar sweatshirt or blanket.  It didn't used to be.  But I have been changed.  Now when I am redirected, even in grief, back to truth, now it comforts my heart and brings peace.

Unwanted news is still unwanted.  But I can see now that I am able to (eventually + slowly) take it in and balance it's heaviness with the weight of His glory and the ease of His yoke.  

Post and Panel

The Pastor at my church recently talked of life as a fence (starting at 21 minutes).  There are turning points, milestones, and those are like the posts of a fence.  Few and far between.  After every post comes a season of walking out that choice, or waiting, or the beginning of a new adventure.  These are the panels.  He said our lives are a series of post, panel, post, panel, post, etc.  We move from one major decision to the in-between to the next overwhelming circumstance to the waiting and so on.  Ups and downs.  Starts and stops.  Post, panel, post, panel, post...

Recently I had an experience that I haven't walked through in several years.  Watching the scene unfold was watching a post be placed in my life.  Milestone.  Turning point.  A day you always remember.  I was in shock and filled with joy.  To watch myself walk this road again, it was like a dream, only better.

I have spent many moments since pondering my last post.  Years ago, when the previous post was driven into the ground, who was I then?  Who am I now as I watch the new post settle into place?  What have a learned these past few years?  How have I grown?  Am I more mature?  More settled?  More bold?  If the panel had never existed, if there was post after post, what would I have missed?  How has my view of God widened/deepened?  Am I rooted?  Was I rooted back then?

I agree with Pastor, we only get a few moments in life to look back and accurately see our journey.  To have a mountain-top perspective on our lives is rare.  But when it comes, as it did for me a few weeks ago, I want to be ready. I want a dazzling view. I want to see a more whole me.  I want to see changes for good.  I want to be assured that my work is worth it.  I want to know that I am not the same today as I was yesterday.  

I am grateful for a opportunity to be encouraged by this perspective and experience.  I know they are both special and profound.  I can only pray that when my next post comes, the view behind me will be just as stunning.

Me Too

Relocation means making new friends.  Obviously.  Another shocker.....this is neither an easy nor natural task for me.  I am challenged daily to engage in that awkward surface level conversation with strangers.  Even though I find it all very draining, this is how you begin again.  Thankfully I have found wonderful people and that helps ease the awkwardness.  

As I re-learn friendship establishing techniques, I have been frequently reminded of the most powerful words in the relationship dictionary.  These words are: "ME TOO".  

As people share their lives, experiences, opinions, and beliefs, a simple Me Too helps create a foundation of common ground.  Me Too tells them you're not only hearing but understanding.  Me Too means that their story is safe with you because it's your story as well.  Me Too invites familiarity into the conversation and exiles judgement.  Speaking Me Too plants seeds for growing a friendship.

As often as I can, I try to use my Me Too tool in conversation.  Typically there is something that is relate-able if I am willing to listen intently.  Joining in with another on their journey is one of the richest and deepest connections we have to others.  If you are bold enough to step out of your story and join in with them.  Although I often search for the Me Too moments, the risk of saying those two words is enormous.  Even silencing at times.

It takes courage to expose your self with Me Too.  It takes a willingness to be put out there.  Me Too isn't easy, but it is worth it.  Worth the awkward pause in conversation.  Worth the leap into the unknown.  Worth it.

Daddy Focused

I am watching my son shadow my Husband.  

My 3.5 year old is typically found hovering around my husband.  He's talked about nonstop.  My son tells me things like, "When I get big like daddy..." or "One day when I'm a daddy I will do ...." or "I have to go to work like daddy."   They even have matching USMC shirts that they wear most Saturdays.  If daddy has a hammer, son has his hammer.  If daddy goes running, son runs too.  Daddy works out back, son is there "working" right next to him.

My son loves his father.
My son wants to be just like his daddy.

As I watch this [healthy] obsession grow I am constantly struck by how little I mimic my son.  We are told to be child like in the 18th chapter of Matthew.  Yet the older I get the more I find myself unlike children.

I don't long for time with my heavenly Father.  I don't usually talk about him incessantly.  I don't picture myself being an imitation of Him.  I'm not nearly as captivated by Him as I could be.  Not anywhere near the intensity that my son has for his daddy.

As I watch my son shadow my Husband I am reminded of my own heart's desires and contentment being pulled away from my heavenly Father.  My focus turns only toward the tangible.  Worry slowly creeps into my thinking.  The troubles I see pull me from God's presence.  Prayers slow to a trickle and become both powerless and lifeless.  The destructive habit of intense naval gazing severs seeing the eternal.  Hopelessness sets in deep.     

All of this because I stop child-like adoration of my God.  My Father becomes uninteresting and distant and slow.  I loose my focus, zeal, and love dwindles.

As I watch my son shadow my Husband I pray earnestly for the same kind of heart toward my Father.  I want to be like Him.  I want to mimic Him.  I want Him to be the focus of the day.  I want Him to be all of my world.

Anonymous + Winter

I am re-reading Anonymous for the {maybe?} third time.  I believe it is essential to the season I am walking through.  With our recent change of location has come an instant "Winter" for my soul.  Nearly everything that was a "leaf" to me, everything that comforted and nourished my soul, has been left behind.  Places I treasured are no longer easily accessible.  People I counted on to help fortify my days and weeks are now long distance.  Surroundings, relationships, and history have all been removed.  My branches are bare and I am in deep Winter.  Soul hibernation.

Chole speaks in Anonymous of the beauty and significance of Winter seasons.  She talks of roots growing deeper and stronger.  She says bare seasons hold value in our lives for shaping us.  Winter forges in us a core of perseverance, integrity, reliance on God, humility, and self-discipline.  She writes as though she hopes everyone will be able to experience Winter.  She's nearly enthusiastic about Winter.  

I can not say that I share her adoration of Winter.  The hard times, the loneliness, the stretching, the thinning, and the loss is so very painful.  However, I can say that I believe Chole is spot on.  When all is removed and your foundation is exposed...oh dear me...there is much exposed.  Only in the stillness of Winter can you see your shallow and misplaced roots.  

Winter brings a rebuilding of the soul, pruning of non-essentials, reordering of priorities, a rebirth of deep longings, and intensified passions.  I believe that Winter is reducing my frivolous baggage I have accumulated and is enlarging my heart to accept more of the eternal.  My heart is being tenderized as it relinquishes this bulky baggage.  

When  I've released comparison, I have picking up courage.  
As I've mourned the loss of dreams, I have found a renewed compassion. 
When I choose to walk away from what the culture demands of me, I gain freedom.  
As I give voice to truth, I slay lies about not having value.

Every exchange is making my heart healthier, solidifying my faith, teaching me to how to war against the sin and weights that easily tangle me up.  Oh Winter.  Bittersweet Winter.  Although I find Winter to be unfun...I take heart that after Winter comes the Spring.  

{am I ever looking forward to Spring!}

Woman at the Well

I've been reading the Bible passage about the Women at the well and Jesus transforming interaction with her and her town.

This passage grips me.  I read it daily for a week, I try to read something else, I return, I cry each time.  The account is deeply moving.  Jesus, tired from traveling, sits at a well one evening.  A woman comes to draw water.  Their conversation is breathtakingly beautiful.

She's an outcast.  So is He.
She knows a religion.  A religion He's beginning to deconstruct.
She can see with her eyes, but not her heart.  He sees everything.
She has made choices that damage.  He is her healer.
She pulls the race card.  He blows it all away.
She's honest.  So is He.
She's reserving judgement on His claims.  He is patient with her unbelief.
She is thirsty.  He has living water.

All of these, and more, are speaking to my heart.  A woman that I never saw as someone I could learn from, is teaching me much.  I'm not a woman who's divorced 5 times, nor am I an outcast in a small town.  But, like her, I too plant myself firmly in man-made ways and miss the fresh work of God that is stirring right in front of me.  

God was in front of her.  He was face to face with her.  He spoke life to her.  But she was too distracted with cultural expectations to SEE anything else, even the Messiah.  This woman must have been greatly damaged by her community's unloving ways.  

Too fragile to boldly proclaim God's arrival in her town. 
Too broken to know acceptance.
Too trampled on to have her testimony believed.  
Too scorned to be vulnerable with her Redeemer.

I am seeing her with fresh eyes.  My heart breaks for her story.  I am learning lots about seeing and listening for God in all of my day.  And I am learning about letting go of religious ways and embracing the abiding presence of Christ.