This may come as a bit of a shock to some of you, but words aren't often something I have problems with. I may be an introvert, but I have PLENTY of words. Now, they may not always be expressed verbally, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. And now that I have a place to write them...holy cow! It seems like they should just flow like water.
But that isn't the case tonight. I've sat staring blankly at the screen for several minutes, trying to figure out how to put into words the mix of emotions in my heart. Tonight was Zach's and my 'Bon Voyage' party, and it has left me speechless. In fact, tonight seemed like the culmination of a week of being left 'speechless'. Being loved is a powerful thing, but being told how much you are loved, being shown it in a million ways, both big and small, is breath-taking. Thinking you might have 'helped' is nice, but knowing without a doubt that God has used you to change not just a 'place' but lives is astonishing. To know that your seemingly small life has mattered to those around you is something that no words can ever capture.
So, as I sit and ponder those things...rolling over those beautiful moments, those precious conversations, all the hugs, all the tears I'm left remembering the very wise advice a very wise person once told me..."if there are no words, let the silence speak for you". And so I will....
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
The Core
Anger sucks. It is, by far, my least favorite emotion to have to deal with. Give me lonely, paniced, or despairing any day. But anger...no thanks, I'd rather not. It's not really surprising I don't like dealing with anger. Growing up in a house with a lot of anger, anger that was pretty big and scary, it was something I never quite knew how to handle. As an adult, anger just seems so...well...so MEAN! And the last thing I ever want to be is "mean". But whether I want it or not, here it is, waiting to be dealt with.
I know the truth, I have to deal with it, process it, for it to not eat me up inside. But processing anger is confusing for me. What do I do with it!?! What do I do with the fact that I'm angry that I'm in Missouri "alone" while Zach is in Minnesota? That I'm angry that I'm stuck dealing with an unruly, teenager of a dog? That the space and margin I was so looking forward to getting these last three weeks now seems impossible to find. That I'm still trying to manage (or control?) so many things...budget, bills, animals, work, dog class, insurance...just to name a few...and I'm sick and tired of it. I want to just STOP. But that feels impossible, how can I stop? Those things have to be dealt with, they have to be addressed and "managed" (controlled?), and thus my anger. Angry that I feel alone in trying to keep it all in balance. Angry that I don't know how to stop "controlling" it all. Angry that I feel angry at the people I love the most, it's not their fault. At the end of the day it's no one's "fault"that I can't seem to find any margin or rest (well, maybe our landlord's for not getting the apartment ready in time for Zach to take the dog). And there it is, the core, I'm angry that I'm alone (or at least am feeling alone).
People keep asking me what they can do to help, and my answer always seems to be "I don't know". And the truth is, I don't. Who else is going to deal with the dog? He's our dog, and thus is our problem (currently my problem). I want help, but I don't even know what that looks like anymore. I feel trapped and "stuck". Stuck because I've never really learned how to ask for help well. That stupid independent streak that so many people seem to admire in me is currently becoming my downfall. And I know it. That's the part the sucks the most...I know it's a problem, I know it's the thing that is "taking me out". But how do you ask for help when you don't even know what you need help with! I need help just knowing what I need help with, help knowing what I can let go of. Normally Zach would take some of the load, would help, would hold me and help me breath, would easy the stress and calm my paniced little soul, but he's in Minnesota...seemingly too far away to "help".
So there it is...the core, underneath the anger, I'm scared. I'm scared I'm not going to make it through this. Or, if I do "make it through" it will be at too high a cost. That it will cost me my relationships, my sanity, my soul. I'm scared, and feeling like I'm out of places to turn. Whether that's true or not, it's the feeling I'm living with, and the one that has me trapped, cornered in my fear. Feeling those same old lies, that I'm "too much", too emotional, too dramatic, too "fill in the blank", for people to handle. That I'm taking too much, asking too much, demanding too much. That I need to just "deal with it" myself.
So here I sit, less angry now, but far more scared...and wondering, what now?
I know the truth, I have to deal with it, process it, for it to not eat me up inside. But processing anger is confusing for me. What do I do with it!?! What do I do with the fact that I'm angry that I'm in Missouri "alone" while Zach is in Minnesota? That I'm angry that I'm stuck dealing with an unruly, teenager of a dog? That the space and margin I was so looking forward to getting these last three weeks now seems impossible to find. That I'm still trying to manage (or control?) so many things...budget, bills, animals, work, dog class, insurance...just to name a few...and I'm sick and tired of it. I want to just STOP. But that feels impossible, how can I stop? Those things have to be dealt with, they have to be addressed and "managed" (controlled?), and thus my anger. Angry that I feel alone in trying to keep it all in balance. Angry that I don't know how to stop "controlling" it all. Angry that I feel angry at the people I love the most, it's not their fault. At the end of the day it's no one's "fault"that I can't seem to find any margin or rest (well, maybe our landlord's for not getting the apartment ready in time for Zach to take the dog). And there it is, the core, I'm angry that I'm alone (or at least am feeling alone).
People keep asking me what they can do to help, and my answer always seems to be "I don't know". And the truth is, I don't. Who else is going to deal with the dog? He's our dog, and thus is our problem (currently my problem). I want help, but I don't even know what that looks like anymore. I feel trapped and "stuck". Stuck because I've never really learned how to ask for help well. That stupid independent streak that so many people seem to admire in me is currently becoming my downfall. And I know it. That's the part the sucks the most...I know it's a problem, I know it's the thing that is "taking me out". But how do you ask for help when you don't even know what you need help with! I need help just knowing what I need help with, help knowing what I can let go of. Normally Zach would take some of the load, would help, would hold me and help me breath, would easy the stress and calm my paniced little soul, but he's in Minnesota...seemingly too far away to "help".
So there it is...the core, underneath the anger, I'm scared. I'm scared I'm not going to make it through this. Or, if I do "make it through" it will be at too high a cost. That it will cost me my relationships, my sanity, my soul. I'm scared, and feeling like I'm out of places to turn. Whether that's true or not, it's the feeling I'm living with, and the one that has me trapped, cornered in my fear. Feeling those same old lies, that I'm "too much", too emotional, too dramatic, too "fill in the blank", for people to handle. That I'm taking too much, asking too much, demanding too much. That I need to just "deal with it" myself.
So here I sit, less angry now, but far more scared...and wondering, what now?
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Nose to Nose
To say it's been a "rough week" feels like an understatement. One week ago, after spending the previous two days loading the U-Haul and cleaning, Zach and I stood in our kitchen and said goodbye to our little house. Our hearts were breaking as we took our wedding picture off the wall (the last thing out the door), closed and locked the door and walked to the car. As we did, it started to rain. A gift from God...a reminder that He was grieving with us. That He cries too....
We made our way up to Minnesota only to find out apartment still in the 'half-finished' state we'd left it in over a month ago. None of the doors were up, it was still dirty, there was construction debris scattered about and, to our shock, no occupancy permit. We had no choice but to unload everything we own into our "new" apartment and hope and pray that it would be resolved before Zach had to leave the next Saturday.
It is now a week later...Zach left this morning...and we still don't have an occupancy permit.
As I drove back to the house where I'm staying (thanks to some of the most wonderful and generous people I've ever met, Donna and Ron) after taking my husband to his car and saying goodbye, I sobbed my heart out to God. And God heard.
A few months ago a friend spoke at Woodcrest about an unbelievable hard time in her life. She had lost her son in a tragic accident and she spoke about how she made it through. Every morning when she woke, she had the palpable sense that God was 'nose to nose' with her. That He was close in tangible ways she had never known before. I don't know that I understood that explanation at the time, that God was 'nose to nose' with her. But on the drive back home, God was 'nose to nose' with me. I've never felt Him so near and so 'palpable' before. And in the hours I've been home since then (dealing with the dog, cleaning our room, even eating lunch) that feeling hasn't left. God is 'nose to nose' with me...cause He knows that's the only way I'll make it through.
So I'm off to 'entertain' myself on my first Saturday without anything to 'do' in months. Thankful that, for today at least, I have God 'nose to nose' with me.
We made our way up to Minnesota only to find out apartment still in the 'half-finished' state we'd left it in over a month ago. None of the doors were up, it was still dirty, there was construction debris scattered about and, to our shock, no occupancy permit. We had no choice but to unload everything we own into our "new" apartment and hope and pray that it would be resolved before Zach had to leave the next Saturday.
It is now a week later...Zach left this morning...and we still don't have an occupancy permit.
As I drove back to the house where I'm staying (thanks to some of the most wonderful and generous people I've ever met, Donna and Ron) after taking my husband to his car and saying goodbye, I sobbed my heart out to God. And God heard.
A few months ago a friend spoke at Woodcrest about an unbelievable hard time in her life. She had lost her son in a tragic accident and she spoke about how she made it through. Every morning when she woke, she had the palpable sense that God was 'nose to nose' with her. That He was close in tangible ways she had never known before. I don't know that I understood that explanation at the time, that God was 'nose to nose' with her. But on the drive back home, God was 'nose to nose' with me. I've never felt Him so near and so 'palpable' before. And in the hours I've been home since then (dealing with the dog, cleaning our room, even eating lunch) that feeling hasn't left. God is 'nose to nose' with me...cause He knows that's the only way I'll make it through.
So I'm off to 'entertain' myself on my first Saturday without anything to 'do' in months. Thankful that, for today at least, I have God 'nose to nose' with me.
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