Ten years ago today, I got a call I never would have imagined. Ten years ago today, the news shocked me to the point of me collapsing to the floor. Ten years ago today, I lost someone I cared about deeply.
I spent Memorial Day at a BBQ in the park with a group of friends. After the BBQ was over, I visited some friends in their home, just to say hello. I cannot remember how long I stayed or what we talked about. But afterwards, I drove home alone.
The light was blinking on the machine. I had a message or two. One was from my father, asking me to call him. He had bad news to share. Truthfully, I couldn't even fathom what kind of news he was ready to tell me. If I would have known, maybe I would never have called.
I returned the call only to find out that my stepmom Laura had died that day. I imagined a car accident where cars spun out of control or another sort of accident which may have instantly taken her life. But, I would not have imagined that when I asked how he would have hesitated to tell me. He said that she took her own life. The nice way to say that she chose to kill herself.
I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach and knocked all the wind out of me. I remember pacing from my kitchen to the living room and back, over and over, as I talked on the phone. I asked for more details, I tried to understand.
My dad explained that she had been missing for several days and that only today they found her car parked at a campsite on Mt. Diablo and found her body in a nearby ravine, full of pills and alcohol; she had left the can of Drano in the car. She had smoked several cigarettes while she was waiting for it all to take effect.
I remember that my dad asked if there was anything he could do for me. I couldn't even imagine what. He was a couple hours away and I was alone in my apartment with my knees giving away. I called a friend of mine who drove 45 minutes to see me and my roommate unexpectedly came home that evening.
I sobbed and sobbed. I don't remember any of the conversation that night. I don't remember going to bed. I don't remember my thoughts about it all.
I just remember that 10 years ago today, my life was changed.
31 May 2009
30 May 2009
invisible
Sometimes I wonder why I have this desire to feel invisible. I wonder why I want to disappear.
I have this really strong urge to yell and scream right now, I have this deep feeling of being unwanted & unloved. Being a burden and being in the way. To avoid all of those feelings, I want to become invisible, make myself disappear.
I think something I feel like I am treated as though I am invisible and I wish my abilities allowed me to match the outside with the inside. As in, if the people that I care about consistently communicate that they don't want me around, I would rather not be around. I would rather find a way to not be there at all. If those that I seek approval from turn and look the other way, I don't seem to learn not to seek approval, I find myself growing in pain and hurt.
My heart seems to be crushed over and over wanting so badly to be wanted and feeling over and over the rejection of reality. When will ever learn to stop hoping for something different?
I have this really strong urge to yell and scream right now, I have this deep feeling of being unwanted & unloved. Being a burden and being in the way. To avoid all of those feelings, I want to become invisible, make myself disappear.
I think something I feel like I am treated as though I am invisible and I wish my abilities allowed me to match the outside with the inside. As in, if the people that I care about consistently communicate that they don't want me around, I would rather not be around. I would rather find a way to not be there at all. If those that I seek approval from turn and look the other way, I don't seem to learn not to seek approval, I find myself growing in pain and hurt.
My heart seems to be crushed over and over wanting so badly to be wanted and feeling over and over the rejection of reality. When will ever learn to stop hoping for something different?
28 May 2009
abandoned
I am filling out a questionnaire for a workshop I will attend in a couple of weeks. The question at hand has to do with my present relationship with God. In answering, something was revealed to me.
I feel abandoned.
Abandoned. Forsaken. Neglected. To turn away from entirely. Deserted.
It feels like more than just loneliness. It is deeper. Heavier.
Discarded. Rejected.
Yes, I know God says, never will I leave you, never will I forsake you. But I still feel that way. From God, from family, from friends. In general. In life.
I feel abandoned.
Abandoned. Forsaken. Neglected. To turn away from entirely. Deserted.
It feels like more than just loneliness. It is deeper. Heavier.
Discarded. Rejected.
Yes, I know God says, never will I leave you, never will I forsake you. But I still feel that way. From God, from family, from friends. In general. In life.
unwanted
Today, I am feeling unwanted. Surely there is a series of things that lead me to think, feel and even believe this.
I need to move out of the place I am living. I was told that almost 10 days ago. I have no where to go and no idea where to even look. The very fact that I am still here allows the feeling of guilt to creep in and take root. I feel bad that I am taking up space, taking up attention and simply have not yet moved on from here.
My family has hardly contacted me. Supposedly there was a lot of excitement that I was returning to the states. Somehow that excitement must have meant, we are really excited that you are not only moving back to the states but that now you will make every effort to be part of our lives, not the other way around. I feel frustrated and hurt that I have to be the one to coordinate visiting them and coordinate all of their schedules. I wish they would have made the effort to come and see me or the effort to plan something that I could go down to. But instead, there is this feeling of we are content without you, fit in if you find a place. Again, unwanted.
There are so many other facets of my life right now where if I weren't around, it feels as though it would not matter. As if people wouldn't really care if I were here or not. That, for me, is an awful feeling.
I think there are lots of situations throughout my life that I have just felt unwanted, discarded, and in the way. With friends and with family. Literally, I could write and write and write all the moments at home, at school and so many other places where I just felt less than, felt unwanted and not cared for.
So what am I to do about it? How do I get past that? Yes, I long to express that to someone, to be heard and still accepted. How can I grieve that feeling and instead replace it with something else? Where does it come from?
What do I do when these present situations trigger past feelings? How do I press through them? How do I grieve them? How do I grow from them?
I need to move out of the place I am living. I was told that almost 10 days ago. I have no where to go and no idea where to even look. The very fact that I am still here allows the feeling of guilt to creep in and take root. I feel bad that I am taking up space, taking up attention and simply have not yet moved on from here.
My family has hardly contacted me. Supposedly there was a lot of excitement that I was returning to the states. Somehow that excitement must have meant, we are really excited that you are not only moving back to the states but that now you will make every effort to be part of our lives, not the other way around. I feel frustrated and hurt that I have to be the one to coordinate visiting them and coordinate all of their schedules. I wish they would have made the effort to come and see me or the effort to plan something that I could go down to. But instead, there is this feeling of we are content without you, fit in if you find a place. Again, unwanted.
There are so many other facets of my life right now where if I weren't around, it feels as though it would not matter. As if people wouldn't really care if I were here or not. That, for me, is an awful feeling.
I think there are lots of situations throughout my life that I have just felt unwanted, discarded, and in the way. With friends and with family. Literally, I could write and write and write all the moments at home, at school and so many other places where I just felt less than, felt unwanted and not cared for.
So what am I to do about it? How do I get past that? Yes, I long to express that to someone, to be heard and still accepted. How can I grieve that feeling and instead replace it with something else? Where does it come from?
What do I do when these present situations trigger past feelings? How do I press through them? How do I grieve them? How do I grow from them?
24 May 2009
stuck
I feel uncomfortable in my environment. Not because my environment is making me uncomfortable but because that storm has taken residence in my heart. So instead of being among others, I find it easier to hide and avoid how I feel since I cannot seem to numb how I feel. I know these are not the right steps to take to deal with my issues.
These are the moments when I feel like a little girl and I just wish someone would reach out to me and help me to process what is in my heart. I simply cannot deal with it, don't know how to deal with it and I need help. Yet, the road to seek help is the hardest on for me to walk on.
What do I need right now? To just be heard. To be able to share what is going on in my head, to be heard and to still be loved and accepted. And I hate that I need anything from anybody. I wish I could deal with all of this on my own. I know that I can't, but still I try.
I am mad that I even have to face these things at all. I am mad that there is so much hurt inside me that it hurts to even just get it out. I am mad that I cannot face things once and be over them. I am mad that I had to just learn to deal with things alone; that it is the only way I know.
When will all of these things inside of me be healed? When will I feel whole?
These are the moments when I feel like a little girl and I just wish someone would reach out to me and help me to process what is in my heart. I simply cannot deal with it, don't know how to deal with it and I need help. Yet, the road to seek help is the hardest on for me to walk on.
What do I need right now? To just be heard. To be able to share what is going on in my head, to be heard and to still be loved and accepted. And I hate that I need anything from anybody. I wish I could deal with all of this on my own. I know that I can't, but still I try.
I am mad that I even have to face these things at all. I am mad that there is so much hurt inside me that it hurts to even just get it out. I am mad that I cannot face things once and be over them. I am mad that I had to just learn to deal with things alone; that it is the only way I know.
When will all of these things inside of me be healed? When will I feel whole?
invitation
Dang! Why do I hear the "well, you can come if you want to" invitation as not an invitation but more as an after thought. I long to be included in things and yet when someone presents the inclusion in such a way that sounds like I will just be a burden or am unwanted, I will just refuse. If you want to invite me, invite me. Don't invite others in the room and then throw that out there like some kind of scrap, "well, you can come if you want to."
feeling protected
Today, my heart is longing to feel safe and protected. I think about the many times throughout my life which I have simply not felt that way. It seems like I typically felt unsafe and unprotected by others. Those others being people who should have sought to protect me. My childhood was riddled with moments of feeling unsafe and my adulthood is now stained with the same feelings.
So, I have learned through the majority of my experiences that I must take care of myself. I must learn to protect myself. I must make sure I am safe. I can count on no one else to do that for me.
So how do I reconcile that with the reality that God wants to protect me, wants to keep me safe, wants to be my shelter, wants to hide me under His wings. How do I trust that someone else will be there to protect and shelter me? How do I believe that I don't always have to rely on myself? This is hard for me to understand and I am struggling today to not be envious of so many people around me who do in fact have those protectors in life; people who serve to keep them safe.
Why did God allow me so many experiences for me to learn the very opposite of what he truly wants for me to know? This is confusing and so very hard to unlearn.
So, I have learned through the majority of my experiences that I must take care of myself. I must learn to protect myself. I must make sure I am safe. I can count on no one else to do that for me.
So how do I reconcile that with the reality that God wants to protect me, wants to keep me safe, wants to be my shelter, wants to hide me under His wings. How do I trust that someone else will be there to protect and shelter me? How do I believe that I don't always have to rely on myself? This is hard for me to understand and I am struggling today to not be envious of so many people around me who do in fact have those protectors in life; people who serve to keep them safe.
Why did God allow me so many experiences for me to learn the very opposite of what he truly wants for me to know? This is confusing and so very hard to unlearn.
elevator
Once, I was stuck in an elevator. My mom and I lived in an apartment building. It was the first time I lived anywhere but a house. I had always had a yard around a one story house. The apartments had one or maybe more elevators. I would usually choose to ride the elevator, maybe out of novelty, maybe out of laziness.
I went through a time when I would play a game and sort of fight the elevator. I would try to hold the doors open while they tried to close. I have no idea how this game started, but I would do it whenever I got in the elevator alone.
On one particular day, I did the same thing. As the doors began to close, with all my strength I tried to keep them open. It wasn't so much that I wanted them to stay open but I wanted to fight was was happening. I pushed against the force of the elevator and on that fateful day I managed to cause something different to happen.
Instead of the inside doors simply taking longer to close, they stayed slightly open. By a few inches. The elevator wasn't properly closed and it wasn't going to go up or down. The outside door was tightly shut and the inside ones had a crack big enough to stick my hand through. I began to consider how I would live in that elevator for the rest of my life. They would have to push a blanket through for me to use to sleep and food for me to eat.
At some point, I knocked, I press buttons. Then, I began to pound and yell. I was stuck on the first floor and was trying to make it to our apartment on the third floor. I could hear people gathering around the outside door, yelling things to me. There was one point in which my mother was outside the door and loudly asked if anyone was in the elevator with me, with panic in her voice. I yelled back NO! I was not afraid of anyone and what they might do to me; I was fearful of living out my days in a square metal box.
More people gathered outside the doors. At some point a crowbar was being used to pry open the outside of one of the doors. People were trying to talk with me, my mother sounded hysterical. I heard talk of calling 911; or that they had already been called. There was total confusion and a flurry of talk and commotion.
At some point, the door to the elevator on my floor was forced open. Something was reset and the inside door closed and opened completely. I was free to live outside of the metal lined room for the remainder of my life. There was such relief in me.
But once I got out, I felt guilty. Guilty for causing such commotion. Guilty for thinking I would live there forever. Most of all, I then had to see my hysterical mother. I was the one responsible for her distress.
I guess the difficult thing was that as a child, I would have liked to have been comforted. Instead I was the comforter. That's messed up!
I went through a time when I would play a game and sort of fight the elevator. I would try to hold the doors open while they tried to close. I have no idea how this game started, but I would do it whenever I got in the elevator alone.
On one particular day, I did the same thing. As the doors began to close, with all my strength I tried to keep them open. It wasn't so much that I wanted them to stay open but I wanted to fight was was happening. I pushed against the force of the elevator and on that fateful day I managed to cause something different to happen.
Instead of the inside doors simply taking longer to close, they stayed slightly open. By a few inches. The elevator wasn't properly closed and it wasn't going to go up or down. The outside door was tightly shut and the inside ones had a crack big enough to stick my hand through. I began to consider how I would live in that elevator for the rest of my life. They would have to push a blanket through for me to use to sleep and food for me to eat.
At some point, I knocked, I press buttons. Then, I began to pound and yell. I was stuck on the first floor and was trying to make it to our apartment on the third floor. I could hear people gathering around the outside door, yelling things to me. There was one point in which my mother was outside the door and loudly asked if anyone was in the elevator with me, with panic in her voice. I yelled back NO! I was not afraid of anyone and what they might do to me; I was fearful of living out my days in a square metal box.
More people gathered outside the doors. At some point a crowbar was being used to pry open the outside of one of the doors. People were trying to talk with me, my mother sounded hysterical. I heard talk of calling 911; or that they had already been called. There was total confusion and a flurry of talk and commotion.
At some point, the door to the elevator on my floor was forced open. Something was reset and the inside door closed and opened completely. I was free to live outside of the metal lined room for the remainder of my life. There was such relief in me.
But once I got out, I felt guilty. Guilty for causing such commotion. Guilty for thinking I would live there forever. Most of all, I then had to see my hysterical mother. I was the one responsible for her distress.
I guess the difficult thing was that as a child, I would have liked to have been comforted. Instead I was the comforter. That's messed up!
wanting
It truly is amazing how often I have the desire to run. The storm seems to enter my heart and I don't know how to take shelter, so instead it seems easier to hide or run.
Right this minute, my heart is longing for things I never had; that I will likely never have. That hurts and leaves me wanting. I hear affection, I hear love and my heart cries out for the same. For so long, I never considered what I did not have as something I ever wanted. How could you want what you never had? How could you long for that which you did not know? If you knew it was not yours to have, is it foolish to continue to desire it?
Do I step back and consider that only if God places the longing in my heart would I have it there? I want so badly for those longings to be filled. I don't just want to feel the emptiness of them any longer. Again, this is why I so often chose to not feel. I didn't want to want something I couldn't have.
Right this minute, my heart is longing for things I never had; that I will likely never have. That hurts and leaves me wanting. I hear affection, I hear love and my heart cries out for the same. For so long, I never considered what I did not have as something I ever wanted. How could you want what you never had? How could you long for that which you did not know? If you knew it was not yours to have, is it foolish to continue to desire it?
Do I step back and consider that only if God places the longing in my heart would I have it there? I want so badly for those longings to be filled. I don't just want to feel the emptiness of them any longer. Again, this is why I so often chose to not feel. I didn't want to want something I couldn't have.
23 May 2009
the storm
I realized, through the power of my own words, that the storm is inside of me.
I was struggling with a lot of things yesterday. My friends returned earlier that I had expected and I felt a bit like a failure for not having finished cleaning, packing, and clearing out of the room. Then there was a bit of family time over melon and popcorn. During that time, I felt like an observer. One person had been added to the table and it seemed to change everything and nothing at all. I watched as the interactions happened and realized that I had no real idea of how to participate or be involved in the conversation.
My family was never like that. There was always tension. It was always serious. We really didn't laugh or even smile together. Suddenly, I was sad, envious, frustrated all at the same time. Once again, I wanted to crawl into a hole and just not ever come out. I heard everything as a reminder of all I didn't have, all I wished that could have been.
As I was writing some of these things to a friend, I was answering a question and it truly dawned on me that it wasn't that the circumstances and people around me that were making me feel all of these things. It was the very storm inside of me. I was making me feel these things. The storm inside me was making me feel these things.
It is sort of relieving to think that it is not about where I am or who I am around that pushes me to that point. It really does have to do more with the climate inside me, if the storm is raging or the sun is shining. So now my million dollar question is how do I get that storm which currently resides inside of me, out of me? How does the storm get out?
I was struggling with a lot of things yesterday. My friends returned earlier that I had expected and I felt a bit like a failure for not having finished cleaning, packing, and clearing out of the room. Then there was a bit of family time over melon and popcorn. During that time, I felt like an observer. One person had been added to the table and it seemed to change everything and nothing at all. I watched as the interactions happened and realized that I had no real idea of how to participate or be involved in the conversation.
My family was never like that. There was always tension. It was always serious. We really didn't laugh or even smile together. Suddenly, I was sad, envious, frustrated all at the same time. Once again, I wanted to crawl into a hole and just not ever come out. I heard everything as a reminder of all I didn't have, all I wished that could have been.
As I was writing some of these things to a friend, I was answering a question and it truly dawned on me that it wasn't that the circumstances and people around me that were making me feel all of these things. It was the very storm inside of me. I was making me feel these things. The storm inside me was making me feel these things.
It is sort of relieving to think that it is not about where I am or who I am around that pushes me to that point. It really does have to do more with the climate inside me, if the storm is raging or the sun is shining. So now my million dollar question is how do I get that storm which currently resides inside of me, out of me? How does the storm get out?
21 May 2009
college
So my friends are picking up their daughter at college. I think it is great that even as she finishes her second year of higher level education, they still interact in such a way that there is interdependence and counting on one another. They return tomorrow and there will be a few short weeks of the whole family being together before others go away for summer projects.
I guess for me though, there is this pang of sadness, of disappointment. Not because she is coming home, but because I am reminded that I missed out.
My last few weeks of high school, there was a lot of friction in my home from a recent marriage between my mom and her practically-still-a-teenager husband and their new son born exactly nine months and a day after their vows. My "first love" had dumped me. The day after prom. My birthday. Life was rough and I needed somewhere to feel better about things. I remember taking refuge in my friend's home. Her family accepted me as part and I ate meals, slept over and even housesat when they took my friend to college.
When it was my turn to head north and check myself in to the dorms at Sac State, I think I assumed that someone would take me as well. At that point, I essentially had four to choose from. I even asked each one, well probably three out of four, to go with me. To take me. To drop me off. To help me settle in. One by one they refused. Too busy. Weren't comfortable. Would drive up later.
The night before I drove away, I sat up talking to my ex most of the night. You know, the dumped-me-on-my-birthday guy? Most of the night meaning I got home sometime before dawn and packed the back part of my truck up with boxes, bags and whatever else I decided was important for me to have there. That meant carrying things down the stairs and heading back up, alone, after each load. Maybe they were sleeping, maybe just watching. I have no recollection. Likely I don't want to remember. At that point, it felt like every other day in my life so far. Alone and having to fend for myself.
Exhausted and falling asleep at the wheel I drove up highway 5 in order to arrive at Desmond Hall in time for the sun to soon appear. New city. New life. New friends. I was thrilled and excited to begin my college adventure. Just as I had carried all the boxes down the stairs to my car when I left home, I had to carry everything up several flights of stairs to create my new Sacramento home.
My roommate, Allyson, brought along her parents, her best friend and her boyfriend. I had none of those. Her mom thought I was "easy" because I appeared so independent. The funny thing is, at that point I didn't really see anything strange about my situation. I had grown really used to the way I was forced to live my life - alone and self-sufficient. Ally and I became fast friends and my parents even came the following Saturday to visit and see where home was now for me.
From my point of view now, I cannot believe that I went alone. After not having slept. That I packed alone. That I unpacked alone. I am sad that I wasn't cared for. That no one was around to help me. In some ways I cannot even express what I think and feel about it. It is as though I am speechless. I am left without words.
But as I think about my friends picking up their daughter after her second full year away, something in me cries out with envy. Why wasn't someone there for me? Why did I have to learn to live life alone so young? It is hard for me to know, painful for me to remember and sad to consider. What if things had been different? What if one of my parents had taken time out of their day that day to travel along with me and make sure I was taken care of? What if one had actually been a parent that day?
I hope their daughter knows how lucky she is.
I guess for me though, there is this pang of sadness, of disappointment. Not because she is coming home, but because I am reminded that I missed out.
My last few weeks of high school, there was a lot of friction in my home from a recent marriage between my mom and her practically-still-a-teenager husband and their new son born exactly nine months and a day after their vows. My "first love" had dumped me. The day after prom. My birthday. Life was rough and I needed somewhere to feel better about things. I remember taking refuge in my friend's home. Her family accepted me as part and I ate meals, slept over and even housesat when they took my friend to college.
When it was my turn to head north and check myself in to the dorms at Sac State, I think I assumed that someone would take me as well. At that point, I essentially had four to choose from. I even asked each one, well probably three out of four, to go with me. To take me. To drop me off. To help me settle in. One by one they refused. Too busy. Weren't comfortable. Would drive up later.
The night before I drove away, I sat up talking to my ex most of the night. You know, the dumped-me-on-my-birthday guy? Most of the night meaning I got home sometime before dawn and packed the back part of my truck up with boxes, bags and whatever else I decided was important for me to have there. That meant carrying things down the stairs and heading back up, alone, after each load. Maybe they were sleeping, maybe just watching. I have no recollection. Likely I don't want to remember. At that point, it felt like every other day in my life so far. Alone and having to fend for myself.
Exhausted and falling asleep at the wheel I drove up highway 5 in order to arrive at Desmond Hall in time for the sun to soon appear. New city. New life. New friends. I was thrilled and excited to begin my college adventure. Just as I had carried all the boxes down the stairs to my car when I left home, I had to carry everything up several flights of stairs to create my new Sacramento home.
My roommate, Allyson, brought along her parents, her best friend and her boyfriend. I had none of those. Her mom thought I was "easy" because I appeared so independent. The funny thing is, at that point I didn't really see anything strange about my situation. I had grown really used to the way I was forced to live my life - alone and self-sufficient. Ally and I became fast friends and my parents even came the following Saturday to visit and see where home was now for me.
From my point of view now, I cannot believe that I went alone. After not having slept. That I packed alone. That I unpacked alone. I am sad that I wasn't cared for. That no one was around to help me. In some ways I cannot even express what I think and feel about it. It is as though I am speechless. I am left without words.
But as I think about my friends picking up their daughter after her second full year away, something in me cries out with envy. Why wasn't someone there for me? Why did I have to learn to live life alone so young? It is hard for me to know, painful for me to remember and sad to consider. What if things had been different? What if one of my parents had taken time out of their day that day to travel along with me and make sure I was taken care of? What if one had actually been a parent that day?
I hope their daughter knows how lucky she is.
life and artichokes
Life is like an artichoke.
You have to go through a lot to get a little.
You have to go through a lot to get a little.
This is so how I feel about life and artichokes!
20 May 2009
burden
I never want to be a burden. To anyone. Tonight someone questioned why I use that word. I never think of myself as an inconvenience. That sounds trivial, light. I will always refer to myself as a burden. That is how I see myself. What I think about myself.
What is a burden? According to Merriam Webster, it is something that is carried, something oppressive or worrisome, the bearing of a load. According to Wikipedia, it is a heavy weight that is difficult to carry. Metaphorically it refers to anything difficult or troubling.
So, do I see myself as oppressive, a load to bear, a heavy weight I place on others? In so many ways I do. I sense as though my one time of asking for someone to listen to me would be such a terrible inconvenience that it would wind up being as a burden to them.
She asked if anyone had ever said that to me? Has anyone at some point in my life said to me that I am a burden? Interesting question, something to ponder. Truthfully, I cannot remember right off the bat. I don't know if I even felt that way about myself growing up. But I know that in friendships, I absolutely feel that way. I want so desperately to talk and to share with people, I want to be known. Yet, that very desire remains locked away because I am too afraid to say anything, to share (without being asked first) or to need anything or anybody. Why can't it be simpler? Why can't I trust that my friends are my friends? Or trust in what a friend is?
Am I a burden? Do I see myself only as that? Why? How can that be changed?
What is a burden? According to Merriam Webster, it is something that is carried, something oppressive or worrisome, the bearing of a load. According to Wikipedia, it is a heavy weight that is difficult to carry. Metaphorically it refers to anything difficult or troubling.
So, do I see myself as oppressive, a load to bear, a heavy weight I place on others? In so many ways I do. I sense as though my one time of asking for someone to listen to me would be such a terrible inconvenience that it would wind up being as a burden to them.
She asked if anyone had ever said that to me? Has anyone at some point in my life said to me that I am a burden? Interesting question, something to ponder. Truthfully, I cannot remember right off the bat. I don't know if I even felt that way about myself growing up. But I know that in friendships, I absolutely feel that way. I want so desperately to talk and to share with people, I want to be known. Yet, that very desire remains locked away because I am too afraid to say anything, to share (without being asked first) or to need anything or anybody. Why can't it be simpler? Why can't I trust that my friends are my friends? Or trust in what a friend is?
Am I a burden? Do I see myself only as that? Why? How can that be changed?
fine
That is my answer for everything. Whether I am upset, angry, hurt, mad, whatever...I will always say that I am fine. I have no other response. It means nothing really. It means ask again in a different way. Why can't I just be straight with people. When I am hurt, say I am hurt. When I am mad, say that I am mad. When I am ticked off, say so. When I am sad, express it. And on and on. Why is everything fine? Why don't I own how I feel?
How are you? I'm fine.
How are you? I'm fine.
fight or flight
Here is an excerpt I found appropriate:
When our fight or flight system is activated, we tend to perceive everything in our environment as a possible threat to our survival. By its very nature, the fight or flight system bypasses our rational mind—where our more well thought out beliefs exist—and moves us into "attack" mode. This state of alert causes us to perceive almost everything in our world as a possible threat to our survival. As such, we tend to see everyone and everything as a possible enemy. Like airport security during a terrorist threat, we are on the look out for every possible danger. We may overreact to the slightest comment. Our fear is exaggerated. Our thinking is distorted. We see everything through the filter of possible danger. We narrow our focus to those things that can harm us. Fear becomes the lens through which we see the world.
We can begin to see how it is almost impossible to cultivate positive attitudes and beliefs when we are stuck in survival mode. Our heart is not open. Our rational mind is disengaged. Our consciousness is focused on fear, not love. Making clear choices and recognizing the consequences of those choices is unfeasible. We are focused on short-term survival, not the long-term consequences of our beliefs and choices. When we are overwhelmed with excessive stress, our life becomes a series of short-term emergencies. We lose the ability to relax and enjoy the moment. We live from crisis to crisis, with no relief in sight. Burnout is inevitable. This burnout is what usually provides the motivation to change our lives for the better. We are propelled to step back and look at the big picture of our lives—forcing us to examine our beliefs, our values and our goals. Mind/Body Education Center
When our fight or flight system is activated, we tend to perceive everything in our environment as a possible threat to our survival. By its very nature, the fight or flight system bypasses our rational mind—where our more well thought out beliefs exist—and moves us into "attack" mode. This state of alert causes us to perceive almost everything in our world as a possible threat to our survival. As such, we tend to see everyone and everything as a possible enemy. Like airport security during a terrorist threat, we are on the look out for every possible danger. We may overreact to the slightest comment. Our fear is exaggerated. Our thinking is distorted. We see everything through the filter of possible danger. We narrow our focus to those things that can harm us. Fear becomes the lens through which we see the world.
We can begin to see how it is almost impossible to cultivate positive attitudes and beliefs when we are stuck in survival mode. Our heart is not open. Our rational mind is disengaged. Our consciousness is focused on fear, not love. Making clear choices and recognizing the consequences of those choices is unfeasible. We are focused on short-term survival, not the long-term consequences of our beliefs and choices. When we are overwhelmed with excessive stress, our life becomes a series of short-term emergencies. We lose the ability to relax and enjoy the moment. We live from crisis to crisis, with no relief in sight. Burnout is inevitable. This burnout is what usually provides the motivation to change our lives for the better. We are propelled to step back and look at the big picture of our lives—forcing us to examine our beliefs, our values and our goals. Mind/Body Education Center
gleaning
Another important idea mentioned in Ruth was that of gleaning. Her and Naomi had returned to Bethlehem and Ruth went out to the fields to glean. Why was this permissible and what does it signify?
Gleaning is thought of as an early form of a welfare system. Jewish communites were required to not reap their crops all the way to the edge so that there was some grain leftover for those that would glean (lev 19:9,10; lev 23:22; deut 14:28-29; deut 24:19-21). It was the practice of allowing the poor to follow the reapers in a field in order to glean the fallen spears of grain. The amount gleaned was really dependent on the field owner; at the same time the breaking of this law was punishable.
Gleaning can be seen in modern times with food redistribution programs; except that the effort of collection is done by others, not those in need which may lead to dependence instead of independence.
To take the aftermath. To collect everything, even down to the last morsel. Do we work this hard to receive from God? I think we are more likely to receive what is offered us without extending any effort ourselves. We are neither like the reaper, nor the gleaner. Those that reaped had a strenuous job and did so to receive their day's pay, but those that gleaned worked to receive their day's food. There was some difference in these two things. If we approached God with the heart of a gleaner, as if my very life depended on receiving a morsel from the field, would we be more satisfied?
For more information on gleaning:
Wikipedia
Bible Encyclopedia
Studylight
Gleaning is thought of as an early form of a welfare system. Jewish communites were required to not reap their crops all the way to the edge so that there was some grain leftover for those that would glean (lev 19:9,10; lev 23:22; deut 14:28-29; deut 24:19-21). It was the practice of allowing the poor to follow the reapers in a field in order to glean the fallen spears of grain. The amount gleaned was really dependent on the field owner; at the same time the breaking of this law was punishable.
Gleaning can be seen in modern times with food redistribution programs; except that the effort of collection is done by others, not those in need which may lead to dependence instead of independence.
To take the aftermath. To collect everything, even down to the last morsel. Do we work this hard to receive from God? I think we are more likely to receive what is offered us without extending any effort ourselves. We are neither like the reaper, nor the gleaner. Those that reaped had a strenuous job and did so to receive their day's pay, but those that gleaned worked to receive their day's food. There was some difference in these two things. If we approached God with the heart of a gleaner, as if my very life depended on receiving a morsel from the field, would we be more satisfied?
For more information on gleaning:
Wikipedia
Bible Encyclopedia
Studylight
19 May 2009
every three months
My past year has been hard. Sure years before that were hard with legal issues, crazy people and safety concerns. But, I think I have sense of stability when I have a place to call home. But this past year has been riddled with moving to and fro, here and there.
Last August I returned to the states in order to get a better perspective on things that were going on Peru. I booked a ticket for one month and wound up staying three. It just took me that long to make some of the decisions I needed to make.
I returned to Peru in November, part of me knowing I would be moving back to the US and another part of me begging to stay in Peru. I waited and listened to God and knew that my time in Peru was coming to a close. It was hard to pack up six years of my life in order to move back, but it was time and it had to be done.
I arrived in February back in the states and was graciously taken in by a family to stay without even really discussing the terms and conditions of my stay with them. Throughout this time, I have worried almost daily about being in the way, being a burden and just not being wanted. No, I haven't said those things to them, they just float through my mind and heart constantly.
Now, because of things that are changing at this family's house, I need to find someplace else to move to. It really didn't come as a surprise to hear it. I am not mad at them or myself. But, most definitely my eyes quickly filled with tears and I held them back as much as possible. As soon as I could, I took refuge in my room where I could begin to take some action. Although they say it is not urgent, I feel the urgency because these changes are about to occur this week. I really don't know where to go, but I feel the need to figure it out.
It is really hard for me to trust God when I am hurting. Too many times, I have suffered pains of the heart and I have just had to deal with them. Alone. So to trust that God is going to lead me to a room, a family, somewhere to stay is hard for me to believe. Someone encourages me to let people care about me. For me it is not an issue of someone caring about me, it is an issue of where I will lay my head. Now what? Now where?
I want to take action because then I won't feel all that is going on in my heart. I am scared that where I end up will be the wrong place and I will just be uncomfortable the entire time. I am scared that I will emotionally pull away from the family where I am currently staying and hurt the friendships I have with them. I am scared of where I will go from there. I feel like I cannot ask too much of any one family, so asking for a room over the summer is plenty. But then August comes and what do I do?
This makes me face the reality that daily I crave to walk into my apartment in Peru, to be in my kitchen the size of a closet, to hear the crazy noises of my neighbors and the street vendors and the like. I want to have a place that is my own again. I feel like I am living in such a way right now that I cannot settle in. I lived with the question of what do I do next for far too long. I hate feeling that at any time, I will have to make another move.
My heart is tired of trying to adjust to all these changes. This is where I come back to this feeling of wanting to just pack up my car and disappear. I just don't want to be anyone's burden. Heck, I don't know what to do with me, why should anyone else be pulled into that question along with me? I already know my patterns...I want to numb all of these feelings and go into hiding. The opposite of all of that is to not numb anything and stay in the open. But you know, for me that is scary.
Last August I returned to the states in order to get a better perspective on things that were going on Peru. I booked a ticket for one month and wound up staying three. It just took me that long to make some of the decisions I needed to make.
I returned to Peru in November, part of me knowing I would be moving back to the US and another part of me begging to stay in Peru. I waited and listened to God and knew that my time in Peru was coming to a close. It was hard to pack up six years of my life in order to move back, but it was time and it had to be done.
I arrived in February back in the states and was graciously taken in by a family to stay without even really discussing the terms and conditions of my stay with them. Throughout this time, I have worried almost daily about being in the way, being a burden and just not being wanted. No, I haven't said those things to them, they just float through my mind and heart constantly.
Now, because of things that are changing at this family's house, I need to find someplace else to move to. It really didn't come as a surprise to hear it. I am not mad at them or myself. But, most definitely my eyes quickly filled with tears and I held them back as much as possible. As soon as I could, I took refuge in my room where I could begin to take some action. Although they say it is not urgent, I feel the urgency because these changes are about to occur this week. I really don't know where to go, but I feel the need to figure it out.
It is really hard for me to trust God when I am hurting. Too many times, I have suffered pains of the heart and I have just had to deal with them. Alone. So to trust that God is going to lead me to a room, a family, somewhere to stay is hard for me to believe. Someone encourages me to let people care about me. For me it is not an issue of someone caring about me, it is an issue of where I will lay my head. Now what? Now where?
I want to take action because then I won't feel all that is going on in my heart. I am scared that where I end up will be the wrong place and I will just be uncomfortable the entire time. I am scared that I will emotionally pull away from the family where I am currently staying and hurt the friendships I have with them. I am scared of where I will go from there. I feel like I cannot ask too much of any one family, so asking for a room over the summer is plenty. But then August comes and what do I do?
This makes me face the reality that daily I crave to walk into my apartment in Peru, to be in my kitchen the size of a closet, to hear the crazy noises of my neighbors and the street vendors and the like. I want to have a place that is my own again. I feel like I am living in such a way right now that I cannot settle in. I lived with the question of what do I do next for far too long. I hate feeling that at any time, I will have to make another move.
My heart is tired of trying to adjust to all these changes. This is where I come back to this feeling of wanting to just pack up my car and disappear. I just don't want to be anyone's burden. Heck, I don't know what to do with me, why should anyone else be pulled into that question along with me? I already know my patterns...I want to numb all of these feelings and go into hiding. The opposite of all of that is to not numb anything and stay in the open. But you know, for me that is scary.
18 May 2009
barley
It is noted that Naomi and Ruth arrive in Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest. Although one might see that only as a marker of time, I sense there may be a deeper significance to this statement as well as the events that result from this time frame.
Barley was a grain that was cultivated both in Egypt (ex 9:31) and Palestine (lev 27:16; deut 8:8; 1 chron 11:13; jer 41:8). It is the hardiest of all the grains; its plants being strong enought to withstand both drought and extreme temperatures. The crop is sown in the autumn, after the early rains and is harvested in time for the passover; starting in April (sometimes in March) before the wheat; sometimes a week before, sometimes a few weeks before.
It's primary use was for "poor man's bread" (jud 7:13; 2 kin 4:42). The account of feeding the five thousand uses 5 barley loaves which were offered by a little boy (john 6:9,13), signifying the spiritual poverty of the crowd. Ground barley was measured and one-tenth of an ephah was given for the wife as an offering (num 5:15). Barley was also used in lieu of or in addition to monetary payments (2 chron 2:10; hos 3:2); to pay tribute taxes (2 chr 27:5); as a standard of measure (lev 27:16; 2 kin 7:1; rev 6:6) and was typically fed to the horses (1 kin 4:28).
The harvested barley is used in the Feast of the Firstfruits since the two fall at the same time. in this aspect, barley represents those who are considered "overcomers." It is important to note that the value of a bushel of barley seed was valued at 50 sheckels of silver (lev 27:16); as the number 50 is highly significant; 50 days for the pentecost, 50 years for jubilee. The value God places in the barley is meant to show a full outpouring of His Spirit on those who are the first to be raised in Christ. Those symbolized by barley will be ones who flourish even in seasons of drought or extreme temperatures between the outpourings of God.
For more information about barley:
Wikipedia
Net Bible
Passover and the Barley Harvest
Barley was a grain that was cultivated both in Egypt (ex 9:31) and Palestine (lev 27:16; deut 8:8; 1 chron 11:13; jer 41:8). It is the hardiest of all the grains; its plants being strong enought to withstand both drought and extreme temperatures. The crop is sown in the autumn, after the early rains and is harvested in time for the passover; starting in April (sometimes in March) before the wheat; sometimes a week before, sometimes a few weeks before.
It's primary use was for "poor man's bread" (jud 7:13; 2 kin 4:42). The account of feeding the five thousand uses 5 barley loaves which were offered by a little boy (john 6:9,13), signifying the spiritual poverty of the crowd. Ground barley was measured and one-tenth of an ephah was given for the wife as an offering (num 5:15). Barley was also used in lieu of or in addition to monetary payments (2 chron 2:10; hos 3:2); to pay tribute taxes (2 chr 27:5); as a standard of measure (lev 27:16; 2 kin 7:1; rev 6:6) and was typically fed to the horses (1 kin 4:28).
The harvested barley is used in the Feast of the Firstfruits since the two fall at the same time. in this aspect, barley represents those who are considered "overcomers." It is important to note that the value of a bushel of barley seed was valued at 50 sheckels of silver (lev 27:16); as the number 50 is highly significant; 50 days for the pentecost, 50 years for jubilee. The value God places in the barley is meant to show a full outpouring of His Spirit on those who are the first to be raised in Christ. Those symbolized by barley will be ones who flourish even in seasons of drought or extreme temperatures between the outpourings of God.
For more information about barley:
Wikipedia
Net Bible
Passover and the Barley Harvest
17 May 2009
names
Can I confess that I really hate the name Gretchen? Way back in junior high, I changed my name to Angie. I think it was part of the Sweet Valley High series. I thought about going by my middle name at one point, Noelle. Once I had been in Peru a few months, I realized that the name Noelia was a perfect compliment to Noelle. I still have the name Noelia on tons of stuff.
The name Gretchen means pearl. Pearls are formed when a foreign substance enters the shell of an oyster and in order to protect itself, the oyster covers the intruder with layer after layer of nacre. I wonder if I can relate this to myself in any way. Something enters my life which troubles me and instead of seeking to expel it, I just cover it up a million times over. I suppose I just hope and pray that something beautiful like a pearl will be the end result.
The reason this even came to mind this morning is because I was thinking about the names used in the book of Ruth. Wondering if there was some meaning to them. Naomi went to far as to tell everyone to call her "Mara" the word for bitter. She recognized that her life had been full and now empty and wanted everyone to address her in such a way. What are the other names in the book of Ruth and what to they mean?
Elimelech: My God is King! He was a man of the tribe of Judah, of the family of the Hezronites and we know that in an effort to provide for his family, he moved them from Bethlehem to Moab.
Naomi: The loveable, my delight!
Mahlon: Sickly
Kilion: The pining one
Orpah: Forelock or fawn. (I am not really even sure what that means.) She was the daughter-in-law of Naomi's who upon Naomi's suggestion chose to return to her family and her gods in Moab. Total sidenote...did you know Oprah Winfrey's name is actually Orpah, after the character in Ruth? So fawn being a young deer.
Ruth: A friend!
Mara: Bitter, sad. This was the name Naomi chose to represent herself once she returned to Bethlehem with nothing.
Boaz: Alacrity. (Again, no idea.) Possibly swiftness or strength.
The name Gretchen means pearl. Pearls are formed when a foreign substance enters the shell of an oyster and in order to protect itself, the oyster covers the intruder with layer after layer of nacre. I wonder if I can relate this to myself in any way. Something enters my life which troubles me and instead of seeking to expel it, I just cover it up a million times over. I suppose I just hope and pray that something beautiful like a pearl will be the end result.
The reason this even came to mind this morning is because I was thinking about the names used in the book of Ruth. Wondering if there was some meaning to them. Naomi went to far as to tell everyone to call her "Mara" the word for bitter. She recognized that her life had been full and now empty and wanted everyone to address her in such a way. What are the other names in the book of Ruth and what to they mean?
Elimelech: My God is King! He was a man of the tribe of Judah, of the family of the Hezronites and we know that in an effort to provide for his family, he moved them from Bethlehem to Moab.
Naomi: The loveable, my delight!
Mahlon: Sickly
Kilion: The pining one
Orpah: Forelock or fawn. (I am not really even sure what that means.) She was the daughter-in-law of Naomi's who upon Naomi's suggestion chose to return to her family and her gods in Moab. Total sidenote...did you know Oprah Winfrey's name is actually Orpah, after the character in Ruth? So fawn being a young deer.
Ruth: A friend!
Mara: Bitter, sad. This was the name Naomi chose to represent herself once she returned to Bethlehem with nothing.
Boaz: Alacrity. (Again, no idea.) Possibly swiftness or strength.
dealing with pain
You know when you go to the dentist and they want to do some awful procedure? The give you something to numb the area. When it is as drastic as wisdom teeth removal, they give you enough to put you under. Why is that? So you don't feel the pain! They don't want you to react to the procedure. They don't want you to pass out from the pain. I am sure there are other reasons as well.
So my thought this morning is, why then do I have to bring up all of this pain from my past in order to deal with it all? Why do I have to feel it all? I learned when I was young to put the pain somewhere were it did not affect me. Why is it that I have to bring it all back out and walk through it now? I like when things are neatly packed away and the thought of opening up all of those things in order to sort through them all is exhausting! I want to leave them packed away in their nicely marked boxes.
At the same I see people with pain packed away inside and I know that is not what I want to live like either. I am caught in between. I want to get it all out, yet I want to keep it all in. I feel almost frozen in that stage and don't know where to go from here.
So my thought this morning is, why then do I have to bring up all of this pain from my past in order to deal with it all? Why do I have to feel it all? I learned when I was young to put the pain somewhere were it did not affect me. Why is it that I have to bring it all back out and walk through it now? I like when things are neatly packed away and the thought of opening up all of those things in order to sort through them all is exhausting! I want to leave them packed away in their nicely marked boxes.
At the same I see people with pain packed away inside and I know that is not what I want to live like either. I am caught in between. I want to get it all out, yet I want to keep it all in. I feel almost frozen in that stage and don't know where to go from here.
numbing
Many years ago, my parents would fight. Every day. Every hour. I had no siblings. No neighborhood friends. No school friends who were close to me. I was young. The only way to survive it was to numb myself to the pain I felt constantly as words sliced deeper than knives and holes were left in walls just like in my heart.
Those times scared me and worried me. I had no idea what to do with that fear and anxiety. My parents were too busy dealing with one another to listen to my heart. So day by day, my heart had to grow a little more numb. I know that some people do this through alcohol or drugs. It seems that I mastered the way to numbing my feelings without any additional substances. I learned how to shut things off. Completely.
So now, I start to feel again. Yet all of this pain seems to well up inside me constantly. But my reality is that this pain is exactly the reason I learned to avoid my feelings. I have no desire to feel all of this pain and hurt again. I wanted it all to go away before and yet it still comes back to haunt me.
It is there. Buried inside. I cannot say buried deep because it feels like it is right on the surface. And I hate that. So if it can't be numbed anymore, I can't help but want to pack myself into my car and drive away. To try to leave all the pain behind once again. If I can't bury it inside, I guess I would like to escape it somehow. Good things drugs and alcohol don't appeal to me otherwise I would be a prime candidate for use.
Anyway, as long as I am being real, this is just where my heart is. Painfully exposed.
Those times scared me and worried me. I had no idea what to do with that fear and anxiety. My parents were too busy dealing with one another to listen to my heart. So day by day, my heart had to grow a little more numb. I know that some people do this through alcohol or drugs. It seems that I mastered the way to numbing my feelings without any additional substances. I learned how to shut things off. Completely.
So now, I start to feel again. Yet all of this pain seems to well up inside me constantly. But my reality is that this pain is exactly the reason I learned to avoid my feelings. I have no desire to feel all of this pain and hurt again. I wanted it all to go away before and yet it still comes back to haunt me.
It is there. Buried inside. I cannot say buried deep because it feels like it is right on the surface. And I hate that. So if it can't be numbed anymore, I can't help but want to pack myself into my car and drive away. To try to leave all the pain behind once again. If I can't bury it inside, I guess I would like to escape it somehow. Good things drugs and alcohol don't appeal to me otherwise I would be a prime candidate for use.
Anyway, as long as I am being real, this is just where my heart is. Painfully exposed.
16 May 2009
happened again
Well, it kinda happened again. But in a different way. Since early this morning, I have been wrestling with "feeling" okay. It includes the thoughts of I don't belong, I am not wanted, I am in the way and sends me down a path I really don't desire to be on. I wind up really missing Peru and thinking about the things I need to do to just get myself back there. I worry that others around me are uncomfortable around me and that makes me want to hide, but when I hide, people are uncomfortable. I feel like I can't win.
Okay, so this afternoon...lots of people, most of whom are heading somewhere together...part of me wants to stay, part of me wants to go. I debate mentally instead of respond physically. One of the other gals encourages me to go and I mentally sway to the side of going. I run to change my shoes and hear the front door close. I was still decided to participate, to be social. Then once I stepped out the door and down the first few steps, it hit me...which car will I go in? Of course, I wouldn't want to arrive alone; I would want to go with others. But I don't have the courage or confidence to ask. So...I turned around and came back inside.
Mind you, I don't feel defeated. I went in and cleaned the kitchen, made some coffee and enjoyed some time alone. I am totally okay with that and truthfully don't feel left out or unwanted. But I do feel disappointed in myself. Disappointed that I didn't take a few more steps in order to make myself part of the others. Disappointed that my fears control me. Disappointed that I just don't know how to do this; this being interact with others in a positive and healthy way.
Then it just makes me mad. Mad because I realize that all that time as a little girl that I was supposed to learn these things was spent dealing with my fighting parents and using up all my effort to do everything perfectly. Mad because I feel like such a little girl when it comes to these things. Mad because I don't know what to do in these situations; who can I turn to? Mad because this is not what I want to be facing in life. Mad because I wish I was past this growing and learning stage; I wish these things were already learned.
I am not really sure where to turn with all of these thoughts and feelings. And that kind of frustrates me as well. Anyway...it happened again. I acted like a little girl.
Okay, so this afternoon...lots of people, most of whom are heading somewhere together...part of me wants to stay, part of me wants to go. I debate mentally instead of respond physically. One of the other gals encourages me to go and I mentally sway to the side of going. I run to change my shoes and hear the front door close. I was still decided to participate, to be social. Then once I stepped out the door and down the first few steps, it hit me...which car will I go in? Of course, I wouldn't want to arrive alone; I would want to go with others. But I don't have the courage or confidence to ask. So...I turned around and came back inside.
Mind you, I don't feel defeated. I went in and cleaned the kitchen, made some coffee and enjoyed some time alone. I am totally okay with that and truthfully don't feel left out or unwanted. But I do feel disappointed in myself. Disappointed that I didn't take a few more steps in order to make myself part of the others. Disappointed that my fears control me. Disappointed that I just don't know how to do this; this being interact with others in a positive and healthy way.
Then it just makes me mad. Mad because I realize that all that time as a little girl that I was supposed to learn these things was spent dealing with my fighting parents and using up all my effort to do everything perfectly. Mad because I feel like such a little girl when it comes to these things. Mad because I don't know what to do in these situations; who can I turn to? Mad because this is not what I want to be facing in life. Mad because I wish I was past this growing and learning stage; I wish these things were already learned.
I am not really sure where to turn with all of these thoughts and feelings. And that kind of frustrates me as well. Anyway...it happened again. I acted like a little girl.
13 May 2009
moab
Even though there is a famine in the land...DON'T GO TO MOAB!
That was one of the exhortations that I clearly remember from the Thrive conference. This land where we are living is going to experience a spiritual famine and it would be very easy for us to travel to a cursed land in an attempt to provide for ourselves. We could look to others who seem to have it well and want exactly what we have.
This is what happened in the beginning of the book of Ruth. There was a famine in the land of Bethlehem; the very name meaning "house of bread". So Elimelech traveled with his wife and two sons to the land of Moab where he planned to live an easier life, for a while.
Why not Moab? The Moabites have tragic beginnings. The very people are a people born out of an incestuous relationship between Lot and his older daughter; the Ammonites born from the same kind of relations between Lot and his younger daughter. (genesis 19:30-38) Moabites worshipped many gods, the principle one being Chemosh, to whom they offered child sacrifices.
What is interesting is that by the end of the book of Ruth, we come to understand that Jesus Christ was born of the lineage of Moab, for Ruth was a Moabitess.
For additional information, see:
StudyLight: Moab
Wikipedia
That was one of the exhortations that I clearly remember from the Thrive conference. This land where we are living is going to experience a spiritual famine and it would be very easy for us to travel to a cursed land in an attempt to provide for ourselves. We could look to others who seem to have it well and want exactly what we have.
This is what happened in the beginning of the book of Ruth. There was a famine in the land of Bethlehem; the very name meaning "house of bread". So Elimelech traveled with his wife and two sons to the land of Moab where he planned to live an easier life, for a while.
Why not Moab? The Moabites have tragic beginnings. The very people are a people born out of an incestuous relationship between Lot and his older daughter; the Ammonites born from the same kind of relations between Lot and his younger daughter. (genesis 19:30-38) Moabites worshipped many gods, the principle one being Chemosh, to whom they offered child sacrifices.
What is interesting is that by the end of the book of Ruth, we come to understand that Jesus Christ was born of the lineage of Moab, for Ruth was a Moabitess.
For additional information, see:
StudyLight: Moab
Wikipedia
12 May 2009
ruth
I guess I felt the need to preface the flurry of posts that might appear here with the fact that after several weeks, maybe months of reading and re-reading the book of ruth, my tuesday night bible study has decided to focus on it for the next month. I am really excited but I can tell already that I would love to spend more time poring over each chapter, idea, word even more than we will there. So, I have a feeling that I may write some things here, to at least record some of my thoughts.
I will try to get some things posted tomorrow. For now, I need my beauty sleep!
I will try to get some things posted tomorrow. For now, I need my beauty sleep!
waking in the night
Are you a midnight snacker?
Well, I say midnight snacker in terms of do you wake in the middle of the night with intense cravings and make your way down to the kitchen to open the cookie jar or slap together a quick PB & J? I am not so much speaking in terms of I stay up until midnight and have to have that one last snack before bedtime.
I cannot recall a time that I have consciously gotten out of bed to feed myself and then gotten back in bed and slept more. That just sounds weird to me. I admit, if I am up late, I certainly do find a way to get a last snack in.
Here is the thing. I am trying to exercise more and eat less. But it seems that a few times a week I am waking, right around 4 or 5 in the morning purely out of hunger. I lay in my bed and think about food, wish that I could eat it, but still cannot justify getting up and out of bed simply for a snack. I mean, what would I make at that hour? What would I justify filling my stomach with then?
But last night...last night was the worst. I was wakened because of the pain in my back. It feels like the spot of my right kidney. Every night and every morning. So I always force myself out of bed if I wake up with the urge to go to the bathroom. Fine, I went last night at 4:30. But the pain got worse. I turned over and over; took covers off, put covers on and nothing. At 6 in the morning, I finally began to doze off again. GROWL! My stomach woke me. That happened 4 times. I dozed off and was awakened by the growling stomach FOUR times. I still didn't roll out of bed for food. I did however roll out of bed thinking that a bit of ibuprofen would help out quite a bit. So half a liter of water and 4 pills later I laid back down. And slept.
Do you get out of bed in the night to snack? What kinds of snacks do you eat in the night?
Well, I say midnight snacker in terms of do you wake in the middle of the night with intense cravings and make your way down to the kitchen to open the cookie jar or slap together a quick PB & J? I am not so much speaking in terms of I stay up until midnight and have to have that one last snack before bedtime.
I cannot recall a time that I have consciously gotten out of bed to feed myself and then gotten back in bed and slept more. That just sounds weird to me. I admit, if I am up late, I certainly do find a way to get a last snack in.
Here is the thing. I am trying to exercise more and eat less. But it seems that a few times a week I am waking, right around 4 or 5 in the morning purely out of hunger. I lay in my bed and think about food, wish that I could eat it, but still cannot justify getting up and out of bed simply for a snack. I mean, what would I make at that hour? What would I justify filling my stomach with then?
But last night...last night was the worst. I was wakened because of the pain in my back. It feels like the spot of my right kidney. Every night and every morning. So I always force myself out of bed if I wake up with the urge to go to the bathroom. Fine, I went last night at 4:30. But the pain got worse. I turned over and over; took covers off, put covers on and nothing. At 6 in the morning, I finally began to doze off again. GROWL! My stomach woke me. That happened 4 times. I dozed off and was awakened by the growling stomach FOUR times. I still didn't roll out of bed for food. I did however roll out of bed thinking that a bit of ibuprofen would help out quite a bit. So half a liter of water and 4 pills later I laid back down. And slept.
Do you get out of bed in the night to snack? What kinds of snacks do you eat in the night?
06 May 2009
weight
It seems almost seems comical that as I press thru the frustrations of emotional baggage and cycles, I feel as though I am doing the same physically. I have changed my eating to something minimal, low-sugar, low-fat as possible. I have increased my exercise to 2 hours daily. I am drinking my water. And I don't feel like it is having any affect. I am basically at the same weight I was 2 weeks ago. Aren't the pounds just supposed to melt off at first? The first couple of weeks should be the easiest.
I suppose I am seeing that emotional barriers as well as physical barriers are going to take some hard work. I am in for a fight. It is just that too many days, I already feel defeated. How is that going to change?
I suppose I am seeing that emotional barriers as well as physical barriers are going to take some hard work. I am in for a fight. It is just that too many days, I already feel defeated. How is that going to change?
05 May 2009
problem
I have a problem.
You see, when I was younger, my parents fought a lot. There was yelling, slamming of doors, punching of walls, throwing things and constant tension. It was hard to live in the midst of. If I was in the room when the tension began to rise, I either left or was told to go and clean my room. Bottom line was I was not allowed to be in the midst of it and I never saw the resolution of it. The tension and fighting continued until the end of my parents marriage. And then some.
My bedroom became my escape. It was sort of my safe place. I had bunk beds in my room and when my parents got their loudest, I chose to hide the furthest away possible - under the bottom bunk. I had no where else to go and no one else to turn to. I had questions, I was scared and felt alone. I hid to try to get away from the tension, to avoid the fighting. I could not resolve it and I couldn't escape it; so I hid from it. Or better said, I hid it all in my heart.
This seemed to work for so many years. When there was a problem I ran from it. I hid from it. I isolated myself in order to feel in control of my environment. I still fear things getting out of control all around me and when they do, I still find myself running for my room and trying to hide. I hide physically, to some extent.
But worse, I hide emotionally. I am terrified of "coming out from under the bed." I have no idea who I can trust and who can keep me safe. When I sense that someone is upset, I withdraw. I want to take away my presence hoping that will solve the problem. I have this crazy mixed up lie in my head that my presence is the problem. If I can hide far enough away, maybe that will fix things and relieve people.
I would like to see this be different. However, I really don't know how to make a change. I want desperately to run and hide from things, from people. And at the same time, I long for my heart to be known. I don't know how to make this work. I guess I just wish I knew what it is I was supposed to do. Am I supposed to call someone? I don't want to bother anyone. Am I supposed to tell people what is going on in my heart? What if they don't care? Am I supposed to share the lies that are going on in my mind? What if they listen and know what they are? Simply, I don't know what to do with this. I don't know how to stop.
It almost sounds like an addiction. Like I am addicted to isolation. It is what brings me comfort to some extent. And I don't know how to stop. I thought about that thru much of the day today. Someone that is addicted to something very well may try to put a stop to it but it feels impossible. I do need a "sponsor" of sorts who I know I can just call and talk to no matter how crazy I sound. I need to hear someone else's version of this.
I don't know. I just want to stop the madness. I want to learn a different way. And I guess at the same time, I am terrified that I will not be able to change.
You see, when I was younger, my parents fought a lot. There was yelling, slamming of doors, punching of walls, throwing things and constant tension. It was hard to live in the midst of. If I was in the room when the tension began to rise, I either left or was told to go and clean my room. Bottom line was I was not allowed to be in the midst of it and I never saw the resolution of it. The tension and fighting continued until the end of my parents marriage. And then some.
My bedroom became my escape. It was sort of my safe place. I had bunk beds in my room and when my parents got their loudest, I chose to hide the furthest away possible - under the bottom bunk. I had no where else to go and no one else to turn to. I had questions, I was scared and felt alone. I hid to try to get away from the tension, to avoid the fighting. I could not resolve it and I couldn't escape it; so I hid from it. Or better said, I hid it all in my heart.
This seemed to work for so many years. When there was a problem I ran from it. I hid from it. I isolated myself in order to feel in control of my environment. I still fear things getting out of control all around me and when they do, I still find myself running for my room and trying to hide. I hide physically, to some extent.
But worse, I hide emotionally. I am terrified of "coming out from under the bed." I have no idea who I can trust and who can keep me safe. When I sense that someone is upset, I withdraw. I want to take away my presence hoping that will solve the problem. I have this crazy mixed up lie in my head that my presence is the problem. If I can hide far enough away, maybe that will fix things and relieve people.
I would like to see this be different. However, I really don't know how to make a change. I want desperately to run and hide from things, from people. And at the same time, I long for my heart to be known. I don't know how to make this work. I guess I just wish I knew what it is I was supposed to do. Am I supposed to call someone? I don't want to bother anyone. Am I supposed to tell people what is going on in my heart? What if they don't care? Am I supposed to share the lies that are going on in my mind? What if they listen and know what they are? Simply, I don't know what to do with this. I don't know how to stop.
It almost sounds like an addiction. Like I am addicted to isolation. It is what brings me comfort to some extent. And I don't know how to stop. I thought about that thru much of the day today. Someone that is addicted to something very well may try to put a stop to it but it feels impossible. I do need a "sponsor" of sorts who I know I can just call and talk to no matter how crazy I sound. I need to hear someone else's version of this.
I don't know. I just want to stop the madness. I want to learn a different way. And I guess at the same time, I am terrified that I will not be able to change.
04 May 2009
missional
"Missions isn't just one of many programs or purposes of the church. It is the core, overarching, motivating logic for all that we do. A church neither exists for itself nor its parishioners, but for the kingdom and mission of God."
"The missional movement comes out of the desire to rebuild the credibility of the church by engaging and serving the culture."
It is interesting to think that this idea of being missional is something new. Ha! It is what Jesus did! He chose to become one of us in order to reach us. Isn't that what we are supposed to do? Aren't we supposed to integrate with others in order to win them? It is amazing how separate missions have gotten from the core of the church. As if missions should be equated with the fall ice cream social at church. Sad really, but unfortunately way too true.
I guess this just rings true with me. I have seen the church get further and further away from being missional as the focus and turn inward to check itself and its numbers way too often. Sadly, missions seems to be becoming something of the past with too many churches.
I know I could go on and on about this particular subject. I will refrain.
"The missional movement comes out of the desire to rebuild the credibility of the church by engaging and serving the culture."
It is interesting to think that this idea of being missional is something new. Ha! It is what Jesus did! He chose to become one of us in order to reach us. Isn't that what we are supposed to do? Aren't we supposed to integrate with others in order to win them? It is amazing how separate missions have gotten from the core of the church. As if missions should be equated with the fall ice cream social at church. Sad really, but unfortunately way too true.
I guess this just rings true with me. I have seen the church get further and further away from being missional as the focus and turn inward to check itself and its numbers way too often. Sadly, missions seems to be becoming something of the past with too many churches.
I know I could go on and on about this particular subject. I will refrain.
Missional Church vs. Seeker Church
"Go out" mentality vs. "Come in" mentality
Typically smaller churches vs. Frequently large, mega-sized churches
Often in urban settings vs. Often in suburbs
Small budgets, few paid staff vs. Large budgets, many paid staff
Thinking holistically vs. Disparate progamming
More organic, bottom up vs. More corporate, top down
Priesthood of all believers vs. Difference between pastors & laity
Action & demonstration vs. Words & proclamation
Everything mission-oriented vs. Missions as one of many programs
Goal to grow "the" church vs. Goal to grow "my" church
Younger congregations vs. Older, baby boomer congregations
"Go out" mentality vs. "Come in" mentality
Typically smaller churches vs. Frequently large, mega-sized churches
Often in urban settings vs. Often in suburbs
Small budgets, few paid staff vs. Large budgets, many paid staff
Thinking holistically vs. Disparate progamming
More organic, bottom up vs. More corporate, top down
Priesthood of all believers vs. Difference between pastors & laity
Action & demonstration vs. Words & proclamation
Everything mission-oriented vs. Missions as one of many programs
Goal to grow "the" church vs. Goal to grow "my" church
Younger congregations vs. Older, baby boomer congregations
From Biola Spring 09
gone
When you decide to only bring six bags back from Peru, you really do expect that all six will make it. I mean really, six bags isn't much and you just hope for the best when it comes to having those things in your possession again. But, no! One got stolen back in February. It is just now that I am beginning to recall things that were packed into that bag and am kind of sad for my losses. I suppose this is just my way of acknowledging my loss.
Green Letters - But not just any old copy of this. It was the copy that I had used to disciple a few girls and it was full of notes. I had also sent it to Kim so she could add her notes. It was a precious journey that many had taken. Gone.
The Lord is My Shepherd - A book that Kim and I read through together in different hemispheres. I learned so much about psalm 23 and it was something I had been looking forward to reading once again upon arriving back here in the states. Gone.
A Woman After God's Own Heart - Another book by the same author. I called it my wife book. It seemed to be everything you needed to learn about being a godly wife and included so many subjects that I had to really wrestle with. Great teachings and something that again, I was looking forward to. Gone.
Large Workout Ball - Oh I have the manual. I have the DVD. But that actual ball to use to exercise with? Gone.
Dresses - My cute summer dresses, ones I hardly used there in Peru and was honestly looking forward to using here in the US, were packed into a ziploc bag. Now? Gone.
White blouse - I remember this one because it was the same one we had bought for Jael for her graduation from the Bible Training. I bought myself one because I liked it so much and it made me think of her every time I used it. Gone.
Metro Cookbooks - I went a little crazy when the small series of cookbooks went on sale at Metro and bought as many as I could find. I packed some with me in the first bags and the rest went into the last bag. I hadn't even looked through some of them, saving them until I arrived back here in the states as somewhat of a present to me. Gone.
Ceviche Cookbook - Sadly, one of my favorite cookbooks I think was packed into that bag since it would come later and I just didn't need it right away. I think that too is...gone.
For now, those are the things I remember. I will add more if I think of more.
Green Letters - But not just any old copy of this. It was the copy that I had used to disciple a few girls and it was full of notes. I had also sent it to Kim so she could add her notes. It was a precious journey that many had taken. Gone.
The Lord is My Shepherd - A book that Kim and I read through together in different hemispheres. I learned so much about psalm 23 and it was something I had been looking forward to reading once again upon arriving back here in the states. Gone.
A Woman After God's Own Heart - Another book by the same author. I called it my wife book. It seemed to be everything you needed to learn about being a godly wife and included so many subjects that I had to really wrestle with. Great teachings and something that again, I was looking forward to. Gone.
Large Workout Ball - Oh I have the manual. I have the DVD. But that actual ball to use to exercise with? Gone.
Dresses - My cute summer dresses, ones I hardly used there in Peru and was honestly looking forward to using here in the US, were packed into a ziploc bag. Now? Gone.
White blouse - I remember this one because it was the same one we had bought for Jael for her graduation from the Bible Training. I bought myself one because I liked it so much and it made me think of her every time I used it. Gone.
Metro Cookbooks - I went a little crazy when the small series of cookbooks went on sale at Metro and bought as many as I could find. I packed some with me in the first bags and the rest went into the last bag. I hadn't even looked through some of them, saving them until I arrived back here in the states as somewhat of a present to me. Gone.
Ceviche Cookbook - Sadly, one of my favorite cookbooks I think was packed into that bag since it would come later and I just didn't need it right away. I think that too is...gone.
For now, those are the things I remember. I will add more if I think of more.
ramblings
I need more faith. I need faith to believe that one day I will be free. Faith to believe that one day I will be whole. Faith to believe that one day I will be healed. Faith to understand what it really means to be redeemed. Faith to really receive love. Faith.
Today I feel like I am at a loss. I am frustrated with who I am. I wish I were different. I wish I were nicer, friendlier, kinder and so on. I am frustrated with how I look. I feel like I exercise more, eat less, take vitamins and drink water, just to stay the same weight. I am frustrated with my life. I wish I left as though I had more control over things in my life. I sense that I should be accomplishing more each day and it just isn't happening. Then I worry that others think I should be accomplishing more each day and I feel guilty. I really feel frustrated by all of this.
Today, I wanted to just cook. Cook a great lunch. Just like I used to. But the right ingredients are not available. The people are not here to eat it. I feel like I cannot even enjoy it. It made me long for my kitchen, my food, the things that are familiar and comfortable. Sure, I have people tell me often to cook for them or invite them over. But it is not the same. Now it feels forced, not like it did every single day there.
My heart is hurting because I am scared that I will never get out of this feeling. I am scared that I will feel a sense of loss forever. I am scared my heart will never feel whole. Truthfully, it makes me want to give up, to give in. Like a why bother. I feel like no one even cares to know me deeply so why try to go there with people.
Sometimes, it is just hard for me to be around people so consistently, for so many hours. I like my time away, my space. I can keep myself busy for long periods of time, but these moments come and my heart aches for where I wish I were - and that is not here.
I am growing angry and almost feel like I care less about some things. I am losing myself in the mess of emotions. And I don't even know what to do about that. I can pretend to some degree to be myself, but I am not even comfortable with me. I am hurting inside and I truly don't know what I am supposed to do about it. Do I reach out to someone? What am I supposed to say? This is when it is true, I wish I could hand out cue cards with questions written on them for people to ask me the right thing at the right time.
Again, my faith feels small right now. I want to believe this will not be like this forever.
Today I feel like I am at a loss. I am frustrated with who I am. I wish I were different. I wish I were nicer, friendlier, kinder and so on. I am frustrated with how I look. I feel like I exercise more, eat less, take vitamins and drink water, just to stay the same weight. I am frustrated with my life. I wish I left as though I had more control over things in my life. I sense that I should be accomplishing more each day and it just isn't happening. Then I worry that others think I should be accomplishing more each day and I feel guilty. I really feel frustrated by all of this.
Today, I wanted to just cook. Cook a great lunch. Just like I used to. But the right ingredients are not available. The people are not here to eat it. I feel like I cannot even enjoy it. It made me long for my kitchen, my food, the things that are familiar and comfortable. Sure, I have people tell me often to cook for them or invite them over. But it is not the same. Now it feels forced, not like it did every single day there.
My heart is hurting because I am scared that I will never get out of this feeling. I am scared that I will feel a sense of loss forever. I am scared my heart will never feel whole. Truthfully, it makes me want to give up, to give in. Like a why bother. I feel like no one even cares to know me deeply so why try to go there with people.
Sometimes, it is just hard for me to be around people so consistently, for so many hours. I like my time away, my space. I can keep myself busy for long periods of time, but these moments come and my heart aches for where I wish I were - and that is not here.
I am growing angry and almost feel like I care less about some things. I am losing myself in the mess of emotions. And I don't even know what to do about that. I can pretend to some degree to be myself, but I am not even comfortable with me. I am hurting inside and I truly don't know what I am supposed to do about it. Do I reach out to someone? What am I supposed to say? This is when it is true, I wish I could hand out cue cards with questions written on them for people to ask me the right thing at the right time.
Again, my faith feels small right now. I want to believe this will not be like this forever.
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