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.
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