So, clearly life happened and I gave up blogging. I am not sure why I didn't go back to it, other than I just found it harder and harder to find time to compose cogent thoughts. Also, I think Facebook sort of took over in the thought sharing category. I am still not convinced the world needs to know everyone's thoughts and opinions all the time, but alas I seem to be one of the few.
Why pick up this blog now? Honestly, because I am struggling and I am looking for a place to get some mental relief. Here it is August of 2016 and my kids are seven and nine and a half, my husband works for an entirely different company and oh yeah, we moved to South Carolina last week. Leaving my home was hard, really hard. I have moved five other times in the course of my life but this one has been the hardest. In Batavia I had amazing friends, my kids went to a great school full of good friends for them and I felt established. I had a house I loved (although I am sort of having ex-boyfriend syndrome with the house - you know, you forget all the bad stuff and only remember the ONE time he brought you gas station carnations.) But, more than anything, I had order and routine and places that were mine with people who knew me and liked me - the real, quirky me. I could find things in Target; even secret, online-returned, deeply discounted things that were stuck on a back end cap. I knew which light switched controlled the same light even though they were at opposite ends of the hallways. I has stash spots for my miscellaneous junk. You get the idea. My friend Lorie once said, "one of our greatest desires is to know and be known." I don't know anything and I am not known by anyone. It makes me sad.
I am trying not to be negative, although often I am not trying hard enough, because the whole family is struggling and as Jeff says, "mama makes the weather." If I can pull it together and not be a pill everyone else is more likely to do the same. I also know that Jeff struggles with feeling guilty. He brought us here for a job. Although, we believe with all our heart that this is God's plan for us, but when I look at the boxes and the chaos and the never-ending to-do list, doubt creeps in. I get a terrible case of the "what ifs." What if this isn't God's plan? What if we never find a church? What if I don't make friends? What if this house never feels like home? What if I never find my way in Target? Or my biggest, most real fear right now, what if I never find joy again?
I know all the Biblical lessons on joy and that they don't come from circumstances, etc, etc. I know that I am to find joy in my relationship with the Lord and that joy is different than happiness. I have talked about all of these concepts a million times in Bible study but at this very moment I've got nothing. I feel like an empty cavern. I feel far from God, which seems odd given I am residing in the "Bible belt." I feel perpetually confused and out of control. I know that control is a total illusion but I don't know where to go or what to do. I have amazing friends, lots of them and they are all a phone call/text message away but I don't even know what to tell them. "Hi, I can't remember what light switch turns on the kitchen lights and it sends me in to a tail spin every day?" "I can't find my gum ball machine painting and the thought of losing my $10 painting from At Home makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry." "There are so many boxes in every room and I don't know where to start which means I can not even make a list which means it feels like the walls are caving in on me."
You see, even as I type this I feel like a selfish, brat. People move, it involves boxes, get over yourself Erika. Quit being a victim, stop letting your feelings dictate your day. I want to give myself a good pep talk/butt kicking but I just can't. I think that is why I decided to come back to the blog. I have been through cycles like this before. I know they end. I know that when you are able to look back and remember the really hard days you can be even more grateful for God's mercies. You can laugh about your neurotic need to master the Target and find a home for the lunch boxes. So I am writing about the beginning so that when the end comes I can remember the rescue.
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2 comments:
Oh gosh, I can relate so much to this!! ((Hugs)). I am convinced that Jesus went to the quiet places in the middle of the night to chat with our father - not because he was doing the "right thing" or being uber spiritual or even being a model of what to do for us (except he was!) - but because he was feeling the bumps of life. The loneliness. The not being known or understood. The not experiencing things as they are meant to be. Feeling a bit off kilter and shaky in his skin. I am convinced he poured it all out and sat and cried and complained and bargained and begged and even shouted. And then sobbed and sat and felt empty and sat some more. And slowly, reminded. Reminded of deep love and deep purpose.
May this be your quiet space to come and sit and sob and shout and be. And may we be the reflectors of the deep love of God and remind one another of purpose and passion and that we are never alone. Feeling may not make something true. But not allowing feeling likewise does not make something untrue.
Change and transition are hard. Having all the pieces of ourselves thrown in the air (or packed in boxes) is unsettling. Finding ourselves again in unfamiliar spaces takes effort.
You are not alone.
You are loved.
Thanks for this beautiful sentiment friend!
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