Search

Life's Little Lessons

"If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud." – Emile Zola

Tag

free

The Further Journey

I cannot find my lipstick. I cannot find it in my purse, my bag or any of the pockets in my coat. I forgo showering trying to find it and spend the next hour trying remember when the last time was that I used it.

I rack my brain. Where is it?

It drives me crazy. I wish I knew where it was so I could resume regular living but instead, I’m stuck, consumed with trivial things.

It’s just a tube of lipstick, “Bombshell” I believe is it’s name and it’s part of the system I’ve put in place that helps me feel safe, protected and such. Just knowing where it’s at, HAVING it, tricks my brain into believing I am enough IF I have enough lipsticks.

And sweaters, shoes, shampoos. Bracelets and books.

Books on how to break free from bracelets and books.

And all they do is suffocate me and make me feel like I am drowning under a heavy and thick layer of ooze, of shoes. I can’t find it. I’ll go buy another. Because I must have it.

Obsessive Compulsion much?

A process I have run from my entire life is before me and I believe deep within myself despite how it looks or feels, it is a gift.

I resolve this time to go all the way through, to the very end and beyond, to the further side. It would be wasteful of me not to.

Seriously, this is a gift horse and I know it.

Only time will tell if I see it to the end.

The last several weeks have been just about the worst. The Holidays came and went, our son was Home and is now gone again and during that period of time, problems were placed neatly on the shelf. The Holiday hiatus is now over and it is time to keep moving forward.

Yet part of the problem is I feel at a standstill.

I don’t want to remain shelved.

Roni, a very wise friend of mine, encouraged me the other day to stay focused on the solution rather than the problem. Easier said than done and I know those who have walked through life and the joys and sufferings of it, will agree.

It is difficult to not get consumed by life’s “problems”, hence washed away by some giant wave that often feels and looks like a Tsunami and has the potential to take out the entire planet, or at least my own private island and right now, my kingdom is in jeopardy.

I’m not sleeping well or eating much. My thoughts are consumed with the bigger picture, of what may happen, but as washed by the waves as I am, I drown myself in worship and  in prayer and resolve to continually place my thoughts on the solution.

What is the solution?

I am. I need to make different choices.

I know the power to overcome lives within me. Any answer that I am seeking dwells there because I believe Jesus is who He says He is and if He is, so am I.

I also know there is a process in each of us that needs to be fulfilled to completion and until it is, it will chase us down as a predator hunts its prey. It is inevitable. We may play hide and seek the entirety of our lives trying to avoid it or disillusion ourselves thinking we are done when maybe we were only half way through. We may tell ourselves that halfway is good enough and that our bandages will stick but in reality, they eventually fall worn to the ground and we get used to our limp.

Maybe our process will not end.

Maybe the end is not ever the end.

I do know that in order to move forward, there is always something that has to be let go of, moved beyond from, given up or forgiven. Baggage is heavy and to continue to make progress, we have to be made light. Maybe that’s why so often we cut the process short. We grow attached to our stuff, even the heavy and hard. Even unhealthy attachments are attachments nonetheless.

And I have a lot to let go of.

The price may seem higher for the addict who prostitutes for a fix than it is for the addict who merely spends their entire paycheck on a new wardrobe, but ultimately both pay with their lives.

And I am tired of paying with mine when Jesus loved me enough to pay with His.

Insanity Is Doing the Same Thing Over and Over Again and Expecting Different Results – Albert Einstein

I know we may all have our vices, our little fixes we gravitate towards when the sky feels like it is falling on our heads and our lungs get so tight we can’t breathe. I’m sure we may have all been drawn toward something to help, something to fill our empty places.

Drinking

Eating

Drugs

Sex

Exercising

Shopping

Social Media

Gambling

The ante keeps escalating and I can’t keep up. My fix is no longer fixing…I don’t know if it ever did except to lull the real me to sleep and numb me from the noise.

So today I made a call, this week I’ll take a step. I am going to attend my first Celebrate Recovery meeting which is similar to AA and is a Christ centered approach to recovery. I’ve thought about going for years but as things like this go, things got better, things got worse. It wasn’t the right time. I thought I was at a good place. It’s just shopping. Everyone likes shopping and I had a hold of the reigns real tight. I was in control and in charge.

Turns out the reigns have had their hold on me.

Tight.

To those whose minds consume them whole till they begin and then finish, you may understand.

Binge and Purge. It’s what those of us who create systems do. We are wildly all in or all out. There is no middle ground. We erect tiny safe havens within ourselves that we go, that we hide, like the Mall to feel safe. We buy new sweaters to feel pretty.

Sometimes I wish I sat a bar.

But no. Instead I am lost in my house for over an hour looking for my latest lipstick.

I tell myself it doesn’t matter.

 

It doesn’t matter what it is that I DO, it doesn’t matter one bit. What matters most is that I desire to be free, completely.

And this baggage cannot go with me where I am heading. I am scared but I am unashamed.

I need to be made light in order to journey there.

 

 

 

Advertisements

fester 

I can feel it flowing through my veins. Toxins are trying to poison my soul. There are things that have not been talked about recently and I take the lack of initiation on any part, other than mine, poorly. 

The long and the short is this: I want to stop reaching becuase I want to be reached INTO and my “ I wont if you wont” attitude is seemingly costing me a great deal. Anger is festering. Communication has been waining and open to interpretation, which becomes a free-for-all for assumptions, which I know better than to make. 

I appears we are not on the same page and that feeling adds extra weight to my gut. I don’t know how we’ll ever move forward because at the end of the day, weeks later, here we are. Same ole. Same ole. Time and space have crept in and the hot water has slowly turned to not so hot at all. Nothing has really changed. Nothing has really been talked about and as much as I sit, telling myself, “Just focus on yourself. YOU keep moving forward,” there is this undeniable reality that I’m not the only one here.

We both are. 

So I go back to “Who am I?” 

I AM a communicator.

“If that is WHO you are, march yourself downstairs and communicate.”

Sometimes I really loathe the voice of reason and wisdom within myself.

And I do. I bound down the steps and plop myself in my chair and as much as I don’t think it is my turn or duty (which often feels like an obligatory noose) to continue to reach forward, I do. I initiate. I communicate.

“I think we need to talk.”

And there is agreement from both sides in this statement.

Not much is solved but we both walk away and doors are left opened.

I have a picture in my head of taking the doors of my heart off its hinges. I see myself throwing them into the flames along with our very dead Christmas tree that lays on the ground outside our house…watching it disintegrate into nothingness.

I don’t think my heart was created to find refuge in doors.

 

 

 

let it happen 

We had two small dogs and one cat. Then we began raising puppies for The Seeing Eye and adopted the first one we raised back because she did not pass her testing. Then this cat got dropped off at our house and then and then and then…

Let me start over. We have three dogs and two cats PLUS we raise puppies for The Seeing Eye. This past weekend alone, meaning SUNDAY…we had several animal related incidents and when I say several, I mean way more than two, the worst being the Seeing Eye puppy was bit by a poisonous snake on a family hike. Long and short of it is, she’s going to recover despite the fact that her face is severely swollen due to the toxins from the bite plus she’s tired and a whole lot of sore but through it all, I’m keeping the main thing, the main thing….she’s alive.

So I crawled into bed late Sunday night grateful.

AND THEN…

Our four year-old lab, our adopted back wonder pet, crawled under our very large king-size bed in the middle of the night and made the most gut-wrenching of all sounds and I just didn’t have the energy or the can-do to wake up and hurriedly grab her, pull her out from the pits of hell, drag her heaving body down the steps and out the front door to glisten under the moon light.

So I let it happen.

And my husband says, “Aren’t you going to do something?”

No. No I am not.

So I went back to bed.

For those of you who don’t have animals, you are thanking God at this very moment for that decision. If you are not a pet lover, you may not get why us pet owners endure the things we do for our animals, but I liken the whole thing to having kids whom you love that wet the bed, throw up in the middle of the night or destroy freshly painted walls with crayons.

Pets and kids…sometimes there’s little difference between the two.

Point being, that massively large dog who army crawled under our bed in the middle of the night is an accurate portrait of what life looks like at times. It’s during these moments, I often find myself half asleep, trying to grab the dog out from underneath the bed by its hind legs, just hoping we make it out the door before a ginormous mess occurs. I step in and deal, adjust, fix, mend, plan.

I CONTROL.

And I just can’t anymore. I’m not that great at it anyway. In fact, I kind of suck.

I’ve become increasingly aware this past year through a series of events that I often step in too quickly with my actions and/or with my words because I am afraid. Afraid to let others be responsible for their own choices. Afraid to set limits that say “This is what I am and am not going to do.” Afraid the dog’s gut-wretching sound in the middle of the night means my carpet is going to be ruined, thereby destroying the look of the home. MY house. Do you hear what I’m saying? I am afraid how YOU and your stuff will affect ME.

REFLECT me.

Fear.

It’s lulled me to sleep.

And in my slumber, I’ve never fully allowed myself to BE who I was created to be so I can’t imagine extending you the honor.

Because living is messy. Pieces fall to the ground and clutter fills the floor with debris.

On my carpet. In my home.

And what if one day, on MY watch, you crawl under the bed and need help in the middle of the night…

Isn’t it my job to save you? To mend? To fix?

Will be enough if I just stand in it WITH you, responsible TO you and not FOR you?

Yes.

The other night my decline made space for my husband to get up and take care of the dog. In fact, I would have made space for ANYONE in the room if they were there. I didn’t have the expectation that he would get up and I wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t. I rested in knowing I was done for the day. If I were to become involved, it could wait.

I could. 

I felt empowered and free in that chaotic moment, in the bigger picture…in my life full of uncertainties late at night with that gut-wrenching sound happening beneath my bed. It is one of the craziest of all things but it grabbed my attention enough to wake me up. I made sense out of a whole lot of life in a moment and it was holy.

Friends, let it happen. Surely the sky will not fall on your head.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑