Surviving

Well,

        I've been away for a while. In the land of work and sleep, work and sleep with continued responsibilities surrounding me. I am one of millions of people, hand to mouth, shoulder to the wheel. I am grateful since, not eating, not having heat, lights, water, can't be all that great. Ask anyone in that situation and the desolation is pretty complete.

        I am not there. We have food, we have a home, we have heat. I also have the tiredness. Much like "the emptiness" in the Never-Ending Story, the "Tiredness" keeps me chained with aching back, dark circles under my eyes, and sighs upon sighs as visions of Christmas's past taunt me with elusive memories.

      Living in the now requires I regroup.  It might be reflective of the kind of work I do. I'm not sure. I only know that I keep praying, I keep reading my Bible and I keep trying to keep my chin up and keep on doing what I have to do.

     This year is perhaps the last year of 42 years of being a mother with a child in the home. My child is 18 and already reading want ads for jobs and apartments. The empty nest syndrome is upon me with all its  vicissitudes and force. Me, caught in the spiral of could of beens, would have beens, and never again will be agains.

       I will have a number of days off these next few holiday weeks. Days to rest, rethink and hopefully refuel.  I have a few more miles before I sleep.....................

      To all those who struggle with finding Christmas cheer in the middle of being oh so tired, Merry Christmas. To those who will never read these words, who might be suffering from lack of food, lack of heat, lack of safety. I wish I could have reached out more, I never knew how short life would be and believed there would always be time to help the helpless. I'm sorry, not of much value if you have children crying for lack of food, or you are cowering, hiding.

     Perhaps next year, I will look back on times when I was able to reach out and touch a life, (or lives) of someone who so desperately needed me to be one of those who helped lighten the load of poverty and despair.

      I'm not exactly at the point of Bah Humbug, but I'm kind of at the point of emotional and physical detachment where for me holidays were the time where my own children were little......

     

Day 107 - Into the shadow lands

Into the shadow lands……………..

It was, I fear inevitable. 

I've been ill. The rejoicing in good health, energy, strength could only continue so long, until I came unto my own shadow lands. Outside, it is morning, winds whistling through the trees, sending the red, yellowed leaves of my trees spilling down as the chimes on the back deck send their frantic chorus through the wooden hills. For weeks I have felt my strength ebbing out, with dull, throbbing headaches making smiling an awkward feat of will forcing facial muscles into a contortion of sorts I can only hope passes as a greeting.

Finally, it was too much and as I sat listening to clients at work I realized I was going to vomit or pass out, possibly in tandem and I went home hoping to reach my bed as a refuge from the waves of sickness cascading over me. For a while, too weak to venture far from the bathroom floor or my bed I lived in a land where the sick feeling drowned out other realities and I hovered, captured in the momentum of unpleasantness it controlled. There was a point in feeling ill where I absolutely didn't care if I lived or died, I was too weak to care. It is now a few days later, and I am still weak, but no longer drowning in the sea of nausea and headaches.

During these weeks, I've had an epiphany of sorts, a realization I've perhaps blocked out with boundless hope, and ceaseless believing that eventually things would turn for the better, that I would experience joy in the morning. The fact of the matter, the sum total of my reality is:  I am not happy. I’m grateful for a having food, a place to live and those essentials that make up the critical elements of sustaining life; but I am not happy. Instead I am disappointed in life, in my family, in my career, in my ability to achieve worthwhile goals. You name it and there’s a great big disappointment written all over it. No, I’m not wallowing in a sea of pity, far worse I’ve woken up in the sea of reality that realizes at age 63 I’ve made some bad choices, I can’t fix, God can’t fix, and I’m stuck with.

I had a dream several nights ago, I was trying to find something, somewhere, it wasn't clear, and then suddenly I was in an opening and everywhere I looked there were red brick walls. No doorways, no openings only red brick walls. Ah, there’s symbolism there for sure. The fact of the matter is, I feel trapped. Trapped by a house I can’t sell; trapped by the desire to travel, explore the world and realizing I’ve spent my money on my kids; trapped by a career where there is little success, little or no thanks and desolate, desolate human stories and crisis; every day, every week; unending human suffering due to addiction, gangs, abuse, and human degradation of all sorts, sizes, and every imaginable evil. Oh, I’m not in “burn out”, I’m more in painful, high def reality.

And so, I've put aside my normal daily routine of reading my comforting, encouraging devotionals and I found another book to read or kind of, it found me. I sort of felt like going to my book cases and finding something new, (no not an audible voice), just a nudging. I looked at one book, another, none seemed right until a book I never noticed seemed to call to me, “This one,” the inaudible voice seemed to say, “Read this one.”  When Invisible Children Sing, by Dr. Chi Huang. It’s a new book. I don’t know where I got it, maybe in my mothers books, maybe a library book sale,

 I don’t’ know. The quote on the back cover gives me some clue of what lies within,

 “To know the street children is to have one’s life transformed.”

I grab a couple more books from my shelf. Beautiful books with poems of inspiration set on pages decorated with artistic drawings of nature, home and family scenes. I realize I will need something to counteract the harsh reality of the content of the other book. These poetry books are ones my mother owned. These books are ones printed and sold by the Salesian Missions, http://www.salesianmissions.org/  whose stated purposed on the inside cover it two-fold; 1. To offer comfort, encouragement and support to the readers and 2. To help support its outreach to hurting children in over 120 countries.

 I pick up the book about street children and realize,  this is going to be a tough read. As a child, I always told my mom that someday I was going to grow up and work in an orphanage. I was going to be a missionary. A kind of scary feeling creeps into my awareness, why this book now? Isn’t what I’ve been doing for the last six years close enough to being a missionary?  Being a drug and alcohol counselor pretty much gets about as down and dirty as you can get.  But then is it about dealing with human suffering or is it about being able to offer the cure for sin-sick souls?  Is it about being able to tell someone about the love of Jesus? The Hope that is in Jesus? The salvation that is in Jesus?

I’m not sure but I pick up the book and read the first chapter. Dr. Huang, takes a year sabbatical from Harvard medical school and flies to Bolivia to be the physician to a girls and boys orphanage. The first chapter introduces us to a child he treats. At the end of the chapter, I feel sort of sick. The life of the girl he treats isn’t all that foreign to me. I’ve worked with cutters; I’ve worked with young people caught up in exchanging sexual favors for drugs. But somehow, how he graphically describes her medical conditions makes it seem so much more horrible. I can’t read more than a chapter today.

This morning, a little stronger I read the second chapter, along with some of the Salesian poems. The second chapter is as brutally graphic as the first. I set the book down, determined I will not flinch but face the realities painted within the pages of this book. A chapter a day, no more, and no less. Somewhere in these pages, I sense an awareness will develop of something I’m supposed to do. Maybe not;  been wrong before. But for the present moment, I am committed.  I’m not sure where this new journey will lead me. Am I just accumulating more data about the sorry state of our world? Am I only still being a kind of participant in other people’s suffering through kind of a passive, untouchable position of safety? Safety ( that’s wearing on the nerves, exhausting of the spirit) but safety none-the-less.

I've thought I've been in the trenches doing what I’ve been doing these last six years. But a nagging doubt assails me that reading this book will reveal that there is a whole world of desperate situations that makes my corner of the world look like easy street.

The wind continues to blow the trees. The late fall sun paints the branches with golden light.  My grandson, a little frightened by my recent illness brought me a lighted candle and set it on the desk in my room a few minutes ago. Its golden flame flickers as the drafts in the house batter it about. A small symbol of his caring, it makes me happy to see its glow.  Essentially I’ve been mom and dad to him his whole life and it must be a little scary to see me so ill even though he kinds of covers it up with the “I’m so tough” exterior. 

Writing has exhausted me and I realize I’d better try to rest tomorrow will come sooner than I want and I must try to be ready to meet the day.

Golden leaves of summer’s harvest

Grace the carpet lawn below

Autumn winds breathe through the valley

Echoes of a winter’s snow

Purpose born of pride and passion

Flame renewed from seasons past

Future burns with unknown pathways

Cries of anguish, sorrows gasp.

“When you did it unto

the least of these my brethren,

 you did it unto Me.”

Jesus

Day 16 of 40 days of renewal

   It’s dark here, early, before dawn. I awoke at 4 am, wide awake, ready to start my day. Coffee started, devotions read, I made two large pans of brownies, cherry jello, washed dishes and clothes.

       This week has been somewhat different for me. I am venturing out in new areas and it’s a little daunting. Who knew that so many emotions could be evoked?  It is as if a sea of emotions is floating around inside me waiting to be tapped by this experience or that. As I begin to look more seriously at how these emotions impact my eating I’m realizing more and more that many times when I’m eating I’m not all that hungry, but experiencing some emotion I don’t like.  Maybe I’m frustrated, tired, angry, upset, feeling rejected, betrayed, used, rejected, unliked, unloved, annoyed, and the list goes on and so I eat.

         Part of my commitment to renewal is to involve myself more with people. To be willing to get involved, even though it’s can be sticky with their feelings, their emotions, their reactions etc. I’m having more meetings with people; I’m joining more groups to work on “stuff”, I’m starting a group to work on life. I’m spending more time with family, even though that means opening myself up to their issues with me. Learning to not always say what I think, to allow them to be who they are (even though at times it’s very painful) is all  part of my commitment to be who God wants me to be.

       If I didn’t sense God in my life, being there, with compassion and care for me I know I couldn’t do some of these things without “speaking my mind.” In the past, “speaking my mind” hasn’t contributed much to enabling others to work through their own ‘seas of emotions.’'

         I’ve been blessed, God has given me so much time with Him to pray, think, read my Bible. Some of that time, the 4 year 2.5 hour daily commute, was my wilderness experience. Oh I don’t think I’ve metaphorically have arrived at the ‘Promised Land’ so to speak but for me I’m light years away from the me I used to be. The journey was painful, it was long, it was lonely but in that wilderness journey God has been near to strengthen me and comfort me and to temper my emotions.

      I’m not as tossed by the emotions as I once was. Oh now and then, something will come up and startle me, a squall of discovering that it’s important to me that I really do need to belong somewhere. I really do need to be loved and respected and appreciated.   Well at 63 I’m not willing to return to the pitfall of looking for “love in all the wrong places” and so I’m engaging in positive alternative solutions

     I’m not (I repeat, son-in-law of mine) I’m not seeking a romantic relationship, I’m seeking a fellowship with other like-minded believers where Jesus Christ is the central focus of our lives. Where meaning and purpose is defined by who we are as children of God. Not in some kind of a cultish, weird kind of kool-aid drinking frenzy. But in a real, daily, step by step of living life as a Christian who loves the Lord and wants their life to be a testimony of His love, His grace, His gifts.

    So, I am joining and creating groups with this view in mind, to minister and be ministered to. To be part of the Body of Christ where diverse people have unique gifting’s of love, peace, humor, wisdom, kindness, humility, purpose and passion.

         And so the brownies, not for me, to feed my emotional needs, but to share along with Taco Salad after church at a planning meeting for the group I’m trying to start. Oh yes, some little annoying fears come in that I’ll be eating that Taco salad for dinner all week because no one will come. But then, I’ve prayed, if no one comes then that’s ok. The group wasn’t meant to be. I will look elsewhere to find Christian people who want to join together to have fun, fellowship and go places and do things.

      If some people do come, I will pray that God’s love will shine through me and I can be a kind, considerate, compassion “hostess” to help facilitate this grouping of like-minded souls who would like to be together. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

        Also this week I’ll be going to a weekend training up in the woods near Randall, Washington. We’ll be staying in a dorm and having classes about unifying body, mind and spirit. Now I have to admit that it sounds a little Existentialish. But I’m willing to go, to meet a lot of different counselors from all over the State who will be there. I am willing to see what I can learn to help the kids I work with. And maybe, just maybe, I can enjoy the beautiful setting, the mess-hall meals and getting to know the two younger women who are also going from our agency. It will be an Adventure.

       Oh and that reminds me, I named the group I’m trying to start, FUN, (Fellowship, Understanding and finding New adventures.) And oh yes, if it gets off the ground, so to speak, I’ll be driving the fun bus, (aka the church van) taking people here and there, zoo, beach, train rides, shopping, hay rides, pumpkin patch………. We’ll see.   

       I love the train at Disney World, especially when the conductor loudly calls, “Allllll   a Board!!!!!!!”  Maybe I’ll do that if the fun bus gets rolling…..maybe. LOL.

      God is good and prayer changes things.

 One thing with God,  life is not boring.

    Love you all, may your days be blessed with the knowledge that God is there, He hears, He cares and wants to hold your right hand through your valleys of weeping until, someday you will find your own,

                Joy in the Morning.

Update: well 10 singles; 1 kid and 2 couples attended the dinner. We were able to visit, eat and plan. The church van is going to be fitted with a ramp, hopefully, so walker-bound folks can get in and out without risking their necks.

Lots of ideas for things to do and see. Train rides, parks, museums, dinners, game nights, pumpkin patch trips, fall leaves rides up the Gorge, Christmas lights, zoo.  One lady, Judy, had a list almost identical to my own. Input, feedback, and a short to the coast trip planned for the last Saturday of September. Goal is to have a take-along lunch planned. Camp stoves, pans, and hot cocoa fixings. Maybe, weather permitting a campfire at Fort Stevens and some S’mores.  We’ll see. Encouraging to see that there are others like me wanting to go places as a group and just have some fellowship and fun. The visiting couples did ALL the clean up, wow, I figured I’d be there a couple hours. All and all a good time.

I have to spend some time writing the objectives for the group; its mission statement, design a logo, (visions of T-shirts dancing in my head and it’s not even Christmas,) set out some guidelines for medical emergencies, emotional crisis etc.  All stuff I love to do, as I joke at work, “I’m getting my Nerd on.” (You’d have to be there, it’s funnier in person.) 

Two little grandson’s are playing Play Dough, eating, watching TV and generally just being adorable. Time for me to kick back a little and rest. Up since 4 I’m a little tired………………. Happy week to you all.