:: the high road can suck it

I sure as hell wish taking the high road felt a lot better than it usually does. 

As I mentioned in a previous post, I've been in a lot of pain the last week or so. Decades-old wounds have oozed to my surface, triggered by pain my two oldest children are experiencing. It's bad enough to watch my kids suffer, but when that suffering is partially the result of mistakes I made over a decade ago (plus the current actions of someone I cannot control), as well as a repeat of my own childhood, well...torture. It's just torture. 

I've written a lot this past week. I've written letters to some of the humans who've hurt me, letters to humans who I feel owe me an apology or an explanation or some action or something. Letters I won't share with those humans. It's helped ease the hurt a bit but I can tell you...I just wanna make all those enraged words of mine public to make myself feel better. I wanna smear their names publicly and make them feel as shitty as I do. 

It's astounding to me, how strong the urge is to hurt someone else when I'm hurting. It's scary, actually. I picture my insides as a seething savage animal, cornered, foam spewing from my bared fangs, swiping my bloodied claws this way and that, hoping to slice through anything that gets too close. The urge to lunge for the throats especially of those who've caused me this pain is overwhelming. In these times, I've learned to retreat into myself to avoid causing damage outside of me, but you can imagine the mess I make internally. It's not pretty.  

I'm really grateful that over time I've built a strong support system of wise counselors around me, because times like this, when I'm weak and vulnerable and in no way thinking wisely, I need them. 

Mind you, I don't usually like what they have to say when I'm feeling this out of control. In fact, sometimes their wise, calm words piss me right off. When I feel this way, reading verses like "The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still." (Exodus 14:14) make me wanna punch things. But in my gut I know their words are true. I know the aftermath of the maiming spree I envision would only add to my pain. I know it's not the right way. It's why I've also promised myself I won't ever post something I've written without sleeping on it *and* running it by at least 2 of those aforementioned wise people. 

I have some good practices in place (waiting to post, running things by good friends, praying for those who've hurt me), but times like these, I desperately wish I had some healthy yet instantly-gratifying coping skills. I'm 39, and I still don't. I write, which I guess is ok, but I also eat. It's why I have 100lbs to lose. It's why if I didn't enjoy food so much, I'd likely be an alcoholic or have a crack problem. It's why I binge watch dumb TV sometimes. Those things instantly numb the pain, for a bit. Until they don't. 

Pretty sure I need to get a punching bag for my garage. I think that's something that would satisfy me in my moments of anguish. And give me a workout! I could picture the faces of those who have hurt me, go to town on em with my fists and feet, and they'd never have to know.  

Do you have this hard a time taking the high road? I'm not alone here, am I? And parenting makes this that much tougher. I try to teach my kids - with words and deeds - to treat others how they want to be treated, regardless of how the other person behaves. But wow. It's so damn hard. In our instant-gratification world, it's tougher than ever before to make the wise choices and not cause more damage, especially when social media offers us instant access to sharing our pain and allowing "friends" to make us feel better. Ultimately, doing so just continues the vicious cycle of pain. Even if this seems like what we want in the moment, it solves nothing long term, and just causes more problems. Listen, I'm typing this as a reminder to myself as much as for anyone else. But I'm curious...what kind of safeguards do you have in place to keep your negative reactions in check?

Also, you'll be happy to know I'm starting counseling up again soon. It's been a while. 

 *sigh*

:: the things i don't say

Last week I declared that I'd post twice a week on my blog.

This week I posted...none.  Well, one, counting this, now. 

Oh, I've written plenty this week. Lengthy, gut-wrenching posts that'll likely never see publishing. It's been a rough week, emotionally. So I've written from that place.

Last night I wrote while I was angry and hurting. I wanted to publish it, to make it public and share it with everyone. But like I mentioned in my first post, fear crept in. Or maybe wisdom? Truth be told, I can't always tell the difference.

I spent a lot of time being hurt and angry this past week. Hurt by the actions of people who don't seem to know or care that my life is affected by theirs. Angry that they can still hurt me. Angry at the people who told me to "get over it", supposedly out of kindess, and angry at those who suggested that when I'm feeling this way, it's because I'm choosing to.

I suppose in a way, that's not entirely wrong. So help me, though, I have yet to figure out how to just choose to feel something other than what I'm feeling. But the way I see it, feelings are important. Emotions are important. They are the language the heart speaks, and while the heart can be fickle, that doesn't mean what it has to say should be ignored. Finding the balance between the language of both my heart and head has been a battle I've waged for well over 20 years, ever since I became aware of the fact that my heart will just always speak louder to me than my head will. I've learned a lot about responding versus reacting over the years, about the value of taking a pause before I speak, but at the end of the day, I will always choose to listen to my heart.

What this looks like for me is that I don't ignore the feelings when they come. (I mean, sometimes I do. And that almost always looks like binge watching Netflix.) Some people call that choosing to be miserable. Some people claim that crying never solved anything. Well, for me that just isn't true. Honestly, I often see positivity as just burying your head in the sand. And my house is never as clean as when I'm truly pissed off and in tears about it. Allowing myself to feel the pain, feel the anger (which is usually just masking the pain) helps me to sort out what's going on so I can figure out the root cause. I'm not interested in masking the problem. I'm not interested in taking a pill to dull my emotions. I'm interested in finding the actual issue and making it right. What this also looks like for me is that I feel the unpleasant emotions often, I spend a lot of time in the dark, twisty places. It takes a long damn while to really sort out what's going on, especially without a degree in counseling, but it's worth it to me to learn from my pain, learn from my mistakes, and move forward stronger.

One thing I'm struggling with a lot lately is how to balance this deep need I have to assert myself in ways I've never done, with the fact that I also don't want to hurt people. The truths I have in my heart aren't all pretty. Like everyone else, I've been hurt deeply by people I love, and I've hurt them deeply as well. But for the sake of keeping the peace, I've spent most of my life biting my tongue and saying "It's ok" when really, it's not. Doing that for 30+ years has created a deep pit of dark emotions that have been truly crying out for my attention in the past couple of years. My need to keep the peace has in fact created a great lack of peace in my own heart. And I've been watching a lot of Netflix. 

Tonight, I'm less angry. I think it's wise to hold my tongue when I'm angry. Nothing I've ever said out of anger had the result I'd hoped it would, anyway. (Except for the times I just really wanted to hurt someone.) But recently I've practiced setting boundaries when my temper had cooled, and whether or not the recipient agreed with me or understood my need for the boundaries, doing so made me feel strong and cared for...even if only by myself. I think it's probably important that I start caring for myself in that way more. I've spent a lot of time caring for others, and caring what others think. I want to continue to do the first thing, and do it more often, but I want to care less about what others think of me.

So for now, what I wrote last night will go unread, except by the few trusted souls I shared it with. Tonight, I will fall asleep knowing I still have time to sort out my pain, time to find the wisest, most loving way to communicate that pain to whomever truly needs to hear it. 

Tonight I will feel strong in my choice to stay silent.

Found this while searching for a pretty picture. It seemed to fit nicely, and affirm my choice to stay quiet a bit longer.

Dammit. It's officially next week. Guess I didn't post at all last week.

Oh, well.

Xoxo.

:: missing bcs

One thing I love about writing is that it can be such a gift, even years later. Currently I'm dealing with some painful and frustrating things in my personal life, which is why I'm even digging into my past right now. So to run across this email that I sent in 2012, to literally everyone who worked at Bellevue Christian School at the time, was a beautiful reminder for me this morning of how God has come through in my life time after time after time. I may not always feel His presence or see His hand, but I know he's there.  

I also really miss my BCS community.  It's hard feeling as isolated as I do, staying home with two kiddos now.  Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to be in the position of being able to stay home with my girls.  It's been a huge blessing to my kids and my family as a whole, and even on the hard days, and even with all the sacrifices we make financially for me to stay home, it's felt like I'm doing the right thing. But I definitely miss the daily interaction with other adults, in person. Being home all the time kind of zaps the life from me, and then I have no energy to actually leave the house. It's a vicious cycle! I need to work on better self care so I can be a better version of me for my loves. 

So yeah. It made me cry. Here ya go...

To My Dearest BCS Family,

Over the years I’ve sent many a long, wordy email sharing pieces of my journey with you.  You’ve been gracious enough to permit me to pour out my heart before, and I thank you for allowing me to do so one last time. 

I’m not someone who is afraid of change, but I do need adequate time to mentally prepare myself for it.  It’s part of the reason why I prayed for over two years about whether or not BCS was still the place for me.  It’s part of the reason why I gave my two weeks’ notice more than four months ago.  I’m sure it’s part of the reason why tonight it suddenly feels like it’s all crept up on me and the end is coming much too quickly.  As you know, my children and I have walked through a multitude of seasons during my four year employment at BCS.  We relocated from out of state, adjusted to a new community, suffered the pain of divorce, crawled through the processes of healing and rebirth, recreated our private world and found contentment in Jesus.  We’ve changed homes, cars, day cares, friends, churches, and labels.  And most recently, were blessed with a new chance at happiness and family in my recent marriage.  With our beloved new family, the Murphy’s, we’ve been loved and blessed beyond measure, as well as endured tragedy that words can’t adequately describe.  And through all the changes, the only constants for me have been the Lord’s faithfulness, and my desk in the Admissions Office.

Many times I’ve thanked you, individually and as a whole, for the incredible gift you’ve been to me and my kiddos.  I cannot thank you enough.  Jasper and Teiley have been blessed year after year with wonderfully loving teachers, counselor, office staff and a Principal who takes the time to get to know them and make sure they’re doing well.  I’ve been blessed with important work to do, and more importantly (at least to me), beautiful friendships that I will cling tightly to.  So many of you have been instrumental in carrying my kids and I through some incredibly painful years as you obeyed the Lord’s leading to be His hands and feet in our lives.  I have witnessed the Lord work miracles in and for me, and through the dark, His light has prevailed.  I am a better woman having gone through what I have, and having done so in this safe and generous community.  I’m grateful for it all.

As I leave BCS with mixed emotions, and enter the world of internship at my church, again I humbly ask for your prayers: 

·         For my marriage.  I’m blessed to be recently married to a man who is sensitive to my sensitive heart and sees the importance of following where the Lord leads – even when it leads us to scary, uncharted territory.  I’m grateful for the ways we are already walking through this together and would ask for your continued prayer coverage that the enemy would not get a foothold in our marriage, but that we would remain strongly dedicated to the Lord and each other, even as we’re still getting to know one another and adjust to our new normal, which is yet again changing.  I’m grateful for this opportunity to have more time and energy to invest in my husband and children as well.

·         For the Lord’s provision.  Or rather, our trust in Him doing so.  It’s a huge step of faith for my husband and I as we step away from one income and increase expenses to keep our kiddos here.  I’m excited to see how the Lord will provide for these things in ways that only He can.  I pray we both keep our focus on Him as our Provider.

·         For my internship.  You know how when you really want something, it scares you to death?  Yeah – that’s kind of what I’m feeling right now!  I just started my internship this past Sunday, and I’m feeling very overwhelmed and unprepared.  I’m excited and nervous for this new season of my life – as if I needed another major transition right now, haha!  I don’t know where the internship might lead, but my desire for doing so is to set aside the next year to really seek the Lord and His will for me.  I’m anxious to see how He can use my heart for people to reach those who need His amazing love.

Thank you again, a million times over, for the ways you’ve touched and changed my life.  I will deeply miss so many people that have become family to me here.  I’m sad to leave, excited to move forward, and hope to see you before my final day, next Friday, the 21^st.  Please just expect me to be in tears if we do bump into each other. 

In the oh so wise words of Winnie the Pooh, “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

Xoxo.

:: being selfish

Ya know that saying, "Enjoy the journey"? 

Yeah.  I hate that saying.  But apparently everyone else loves it, because I can't even find a meme or image to express the opposite.

I have a really hard time with "the journey".  I tend to want to skip ahead to the part where I'm enjoying the fruits of my labor, rather than all the laboring. Now, I know in my head that getting to the destination wouldn't feel as rewarding if I skipped the travelling, or blah blah blah, so I'm told. But when I think about how hard the journeying actually is, I don't enjoy much of it at all. I mean, does anyone really enjoy the journey? Does anyone enjoy the falling down, and the getting back up again, battered and bruised, and dragging ourselves forward?  Or do we just enjoy once we're healed and strong again, and sipping Mai Tais on our own private beach?

I digress.  

The very night after I finally made my long-awaited (by me, at least) blog public, I sat through a blogging webinar about finding my ideal reader.  

Not even five minutes into this thing, I was sitting at my massage table, surrounded by calm and relaxing music and just-right-lighting, and I cried.

I realized already that I was doing it all wrong. *sigh* I had been a blogger for less than 24 hours and already felt like my endeavors were worthless and I should just quit.

Immediately, I texted the two friends I was taking this webinar with, in panic mode.  In I-wanna-run-away-and-forget-this-whole-blog-cuz-this-sounds-too-hard-mode. Thankfully, both of these ladies are wise and lovely, and reminded me to breathe and just take it in.  That nothing more was being required of me in that moment.

More often than I like, I need to be reminded to take things one step at a time.  In my head I want to fast forward to my goal, even though decades of experience have proven to me that this is a sure-fire way to get absolutely nothing done, because when *I* look at the big picture, I get overwhelmed and shut down immediately. 

My point is this. This blog, right now, is part of my journey. And while I know it's not where I'll end up, I also know it's a road to get there. During that blogging webinar, I was reminded WHO my heart is pulled towards, and WHAT my actual goal and purpose in blogging is. That purpose is very specific, very personal, and therefore...very terrifying. And it's gonna take a lot more prayer and research and digging into my past to get me there. So in the meantime, this blog is completely selfish, and has just two goals: 

1. To get me back in the habit of writing.  I've neglected this practice for a looooooooong time, and I'm seriously rusty. I want to post twice a week, and be working on posts at least 5 days a week to get back in the habit. There. Now that I have that in writing, you can keep me accountable if you care to.

2. To make my writing public. I tend to be more comfortable than most people with baring my heart and soul, but doing so in this medium makes me feel far more vulnerable than even I'm comfortable with. I'm way too aware of how many "likes" or not I'm getting, way too aware of the "crickets" when people don't read or comment or whatever.  It makes me sad, makes me feel inferior, makes me wanna quit. Especially when I see my friends who are beautiful writers sharing themselves and getting a lot more traffic, getting tons of comments and reaching people and even being published. It's said that "comparison is the thief of joy" and damn, that's so true.  But it's also human nature, and it's really hard for me to put myself out there when there is no response. I'd almost rather negative response than no response.  Being ignored is my least favorite thing ever. But I'm making this commitment to my future self and hopefully the future humans I'll connect with and make a difference for. I know this blog right now won't matter to a lot of people, and I'm trying to be ok with that. I will share anyway.

I'm rambling now.  I told you, this blog is totally selfish. But for now, for this season, it's what I need to prepare myself for when the journey gets harder. For now, I will do as William Wordsworth instructed:

And since this blog is for me, I'll leave THIS link here to remind myself of why doing this is a good thing.  Feel free to read it if you're interested in blogging, too.

Xoxo.

:: heidi

My heart is broken.

Several months ago, I reached out to this beautiful woman I knew of from church.  She was someone I always admired from afar  - beautiful on the outside, sure, but you could tell just by watching her that she was even more beautiful on the inside. I remember thinking her life - as I saw it on Facebook - looked really fun...lots of friends and social activities, great job, great waterfront place to live, traveled on vacation.  I was a single Mama at the time, and I remember envying the freedom it looked like she had. Not in a bitter way, though. Something about her smile and the kindness she oozed made being bitter about it impossible. 

I remember how shocked I was, too, the first time I heard her cancer was back.  I didn't know she'd ever had cancer in the first place, but suddenly I imagined that played a role for her in living her life to the fullest.

I remember a sudden tugging on my heart:  "You need to give Heidi a massage." 

This isn't a new tugging on my heart; it happens frequently, actually. But this tugging felt undeniable, urgent, and I knew I couldn't ignore it.  But I was afraid. I knew from massage school that massage for someone with cancer could be very beneficial and really I couldn't do any damage by doing so. Still, being a new massage therapist and having no experience working on someone with cancer, I was leery. This situation weighed on me, and after months I finally messaged her about wanting to offer her massage, but out of fear I kept avoiding sending her the gift card I'd promised.

I hadn't seen her at church in quite a long time...well over a year, probably. Yet one Sunday, there she was, visiting.  She looked smaller, a little more frail than I'd remembered, but there was no mistaking her giant, welcoming grin. It was after service I think, the lobby full of people chatting, chasing after kids, leaving. My heart started pounding as I nervously realized I was making my way towards her, pulled like a magnet.

Let me tell you, right now, that when I feel especially deeply about something, it takes me a ridiculous amount of emotional energy to connect with someone in person about that thing. Doesn't matter if it's to bare my heart or just tell a harried Mama that she looks beautiful and is doing a great job...every time I'm afraid I'll make a fool of myself by crying, and so sadly, I only push through that fear about 1 in every 4 times I feel asked to. So to walk up to this lovely woman I didn't know, but whom I knew was very sick, was as daunting as climbing a mountain.

She was welcoming, of course.  Gracious.  Remembered the message I sent and was excited at the prospect of getting a massage. 

Ashamedly, it took me another couple of months before I followed through with my initial promise to her. And when she was finally on her way to get her first massage, I was terrified.  Her health had worsened considerably and she was walking with a cane.  I had to make some adjustments to how she got into the massage room, but once in there, her very presence put my fears at ease. 

I felt in awe of Heidi.  I knew I had much to learn from her, so I sent her more gift cards. Within about a month of her first massage she scheduled another one, but this time, I went to her.  Her massage that time had to happen in her bed.  We talked about Jesus, we talked about her Mama, her brother; we were silent. 

If you've spent any time with Heidi, you know how infectious her JOY was. And if you knew her during her illness, you know that being with her was like being in the presence of Jesus. I don't say that about many people...but she exuded that same sense of calm mixed with power that I imagine Jesus would. Even in her pain, even as her body continued to deteriorate, she clung to hope, to Jesus, to the belief that He is bigger than just her story and was very much in it with her, no matter the outcome. Her faith and strength and grace in the midst of the darkness became her ministry.  

As my friend Noel reminded me, Heidi was much more at peace with her situation than anyone who loved her was. Is. 

Heidi passed away this morning. It's very bittersweet. Knowing she is healed, happy, active and reunited with her Mama again brings some comfort. But her struggle and story bring me anger as well.  Anger that such a kind and vivacious and loving soul would be allowed to suffer like she did, allowed to die. I'm trying to balance the two.  I don't imagine Heidi spent a lot of time being angry about things.  I don't know...there's much more about her I don't know than what I did, but the woman I spent some brief time with was only light and love. 

I'm grateful for my time with Heidi, for the beautiful example she was of how to live a life you love and love those in your life. I wish I had reached out to her sooner.  My biggest regret here is that I robbed myself of more time with her, getting to know her and her sweet Dad better. 

Moving forward, I vow to be quicker to obey when I feel the Lord asking hard things of me. I'll push through my fear of looking foolish and make the words come out of my mouth when I have some love to share with someone.  I'm scared of this, but it's important. I think Heidi would like that a lot.

Xoxo.