The comments people send me are always so encouraging. Unfortunately, something was strange on my last post, so no one could post their comment. So, in an effort to encourage those who read and follow, and I will just copy and paste them into a post.
Rayna Brandon:
it's a common experience and people who say they don't feel that way are the hypocrites!
Erin Johnson:
Hypocrites are those who judge others and refuse to shine the light on themselves. In any event, I agree...it's time for that glass of wine!
Monica Snider:
Christie ---
Thank you for sharing! I think you are human and a woman! I can really relate to your post here - (Rayna sent me your way - through her blog) I have days where I am on cloud 9 (even sometimes just moments) and then I turn around and think I could be 9 under!! When the doctor told me my progesterone was extremely low, I was actually excited thinking this could explain some of it. You know then other days I think I can equate my status to how full my tank is of the spirit...so which is it. I think a little of both and also just life well lived! Full of emotion and actually being present and acknowledging we are human! Again - thanks for sharing! have a great day!
***Thanks, everyone, for sharing. In the future, if anyone tries to post a comment and can't, send it to me via facebook or email and let me know if I have permission to post...and I will. I want everyone to be encouraged and strengthened; not just me.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Crazy Hypocrite
For the past few years I have toyed with the thought that I am, indeed, going crazy. Not just "oh, what a crazy day I'm having," but actual, certifiable crazy. I can't think of any other way to describe how I feel about this roller coaster of emotion that I ride.
Today is a perfect example. The day started out well. I had a nice, quiet morning and got several things accomplished. I was confident about life and knew that everything was going to be alright. I was in a good mood, got to sit down and play with my children, and was singing to myself. But tonight I feel the absolute opposite. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin and just want today to be all done. I know several people have days like this. But this is just a small illustration of my life.
I seem to go from joyful, peaceful, and confident to anxious, depressed, uncomfortable, and unstable with no warning. It is so unnerving that I don't know how to describe it. And even as I type these words, I worry that one of you is going to send someone over with the straight jacket.
Why is life this way? How can I be so filled with hope one day and ready to scream at God the next? I'm sure that even just by reading this blog you are wondering the same thing. Wait a minute....wasn't this the person who was trying to give us hope in her last post? Wasn't she just talking about the bigger picture? Sometimes I don't even recognize myself when my emotions flop.
This is a pattern. It goes on and on for as long as I can remember. If you read my journals, you would notice the same pattern. Days of happiness, praise, and confidence followed by days of hopeless ramblings and questions about why life is so tough. Times of life filled with faith, hope, and trust that travel into times of uncertainty, pain, and anger. It makes me feel like the biggest hypocrite. What kind of a person can have such faith and feel like I do? What kind of a woman speaks of truth and hope and happy endings, but breaks down from the discomfort in her own life?
Then the low self-esteem and low self-worth start whispering to me. And from there it is all down hill. I am so tired. I am tired of riding this ride and wondering when I can get off.
Bi-polar? Crazy? Just tired? In need of a glass of wine? Or....simply a hypocrite?.....
Today is a perfect example. The day started out well. I had a nice, quiet morning and got several things accomplished. I was confident about life and knew that everything was going to be alright. I was in a good mood, got to sit down and play with my children, and was singing to myself. But tonight I feel the absolute opposite. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin and just want today to be all done. I know several people have days like this. But this is just a small illustration of my life.
I seem to go from joyful, peaceful, and confident to anxious, depressed, uncomfortable, and unstable with no warning. It is so unnerving that I don't know how to describe it. And even as I type these words, I worry that one of you is going to send someone over with the straight jacket.
Why is life this way? How can I be so filled with hope one day and ready to scream at God the next? I'm sure that even just by reading this blog you are wondering the same thing. Wait a minute....wasn't this the person who was trying to give us hope in her last post? Wasn't she just talking about the bigger picture? Sometimes I don't even recognize myself when my emotions flop.
This is a pattern. It goes on and on for as long as I can remember. If you read my journals, you would notice the same pattern. Days of happiness, praise, and confidence followed by days of hopeless ramblings and questions about why life is so tough. Times of life filled with faith, hope, and trust that travel into times of uncertainty, pain, and anger. It makes me feel like the biggest hypocrite. What kind of a person can have such faith and feel like I do? What kind of a woman speaks of truth and hope and happy endings, but breaks down from the discomfort in her own life?
Then the low self-esteem and low self-worth start whispering to me. And from there it is all down hill. I am so tired. I am tired of riding this ride and wondering when I can get off.
Bi-polar? Crazy? Just tired? In need of a glass of wine? Or....simply a hypocrite?.....
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The Big Picture - In the Waiting Room
My son looks like he's waiting for the flood! His pajamas are, suddenly, all too small and his legs and tummy are protruding. For several weeks he's been asking for new, "softy" jammies. Heavy, fleece, winter pajamas are his favorites. At first I went on the hunt for these comfy treasures. You know what I mean; going from store to store looking...or any time you happen by a different/new retailer you can't help but check to see if they carry what you're after. Clearance racks become homing beacons just calling your name. All the while, I realize how insane this hunt is, as fleece pajamas are long out of season. Not only that, I'm spending a lot of energy on something I know he won't need or even want in a couple of months, when it finally warms up. Why am I spending all this time and effort on something that is not what my son needs? I've tried to explain that he doesn't really need fleece pajamas right now, but when you're six, you don't always hear your parents.
Zach can't see the big picture like I can. He can't see that summer and warmer temperatures are coming. He can't see that searching for and purchasing these pajamas right now is not practical. Our budget is tight, retailers no longer carry such pajamas, and getting something just because you suddenly want it sets him up for all sorts of idolatry/stewarding/greed issues for the future. No. Zach can't see this big picture like I can. He does not need these pajamas. In the big picture, they just don't make any sense, provide for his needs, or ultimately love him. And when presented with the easier to find, budget friendly, and season-appropriate jammies...Guess What!? He loved them! And he was excited about how "cool" they were.
And I know that as summer arrives they are exactly what he needs. I love my son. And out of love I look at the bigger picture and make sure he gets what is best for him.
**As a side note (that may seem trivial, but really isn't): by saving money and not spending so much time and energy on those fleece pajamas, I was also able to find and purchase much-needed pajamas for the girls as well. Sometimes the big picture isn't just about the person it seems to be directly affecting at that moment. Others get their needs met too.
Isn't that what most of parenting is all about; loving our children enough to look at the big picture and make decisions that are best for them, as well as others? It is what drives us to provide for them and discipline them too. Think about if we left our children alone with no concept of the bigger picture. What a mess!
It's not too difficult to see where this is headed. So many of you responded to the last blog that you, too, are in a season of waiting - waiting for the unknown. Many of you spoke of the pain and discomfort of being stuck in the proverbial waiting room. Take a minute to think about what you're waiting for. Is is something you think you need? Or do you stand waiting for the unknown? I am waiting for the unknown. I don't know what is next for us. It's painful because I just want to know. Sometimes I think if I just knew how this will all play out, I could be much more patient in my wait. I wouldn't be so uncomfortable and emotional. I wouldn't be crying out, so often, for knowledge and relief.
But lucky for us, there is a bigger picture. A bigger picture that, although we can't see it, is much better for us than we could ever know. And there is a Parent who has this big picture in view. He can see where we've been and where we are going. And He knows what is best for us and for all others - those we see and some we have not yet met. I can say with faith and confidence that there is a bigger picture here.
I'm not saying these things to dishearten you or in some way disrespect your hurt and pain. This waiting is long and hard. Honestly, it sucks! I know. And I hate it! But I know, for myself anyway, that sometimes a little perspective helps. It is a comfort when all you want is your "softy jammies." (Not to mention that sharing in our suffering brings us together and strengthens us against against all that tries to devour - 1 Peter 5:9-10.)
How can I say, with confidence, there is a bigger picture? Because I've lived it and seen it. And I'm willing to bet you have too - if you pause and look back, honestly. Think of all the times you wanted something so badly, but when you ended up with something else - it was far better than that thing you had hoped for. If you're married, or even if you're single and dating, you know the truth of this waiting and wanting and the bigger picture. I remember dating a boy in high school that I was sure was the one I wanted for the rest of my life. When it didn't work out, I was "devastated." But God had the bigger picture, and what was best for me, in mind.
Think, also, of the times you waited and didn't understand why things were the way they were. But on the other side you could see all of the good that came out of it. When Zach was one, I suddenly had to return to working full time. It wasn't what I had planned or what I had always wanted. I'm a little old-fashioned and had planned on being a stay at home mom. But that plan quickly went out the window and I faced the reality of going back to work. Not only that, but I had just missed an opportunity to return to my previous building... by minutes, actually. There had been an opening for a first or second grade teacher, but it was given to another teacher ten minutes prior to my phone call to the district, inquiring about work. I didn't understand why that had happened. In my limited opinion, I had thought I needed the comfort of my teaching family at that time, more than ever. But...
So I went to an interview at another building in my district. And I waited to hear. Someone else got the position. I felt so rejected and unwanted. And it was a time I had just experienced a major rejection in my life. I couldn't understand.
Lucky for me, there was a bigger picture being protected by my Father. I was supposed to be at a different building. I was meant to be a part of the lives of some very specific children. God knew what they needed (and what I needed) and sent me to a place I hadn't planned and wasn't too excited about. I remember standing in that classroom, that was actually the school's surplus/storage room. It was filled with everyone's discarded furniture and supplies. And I just cried and cried. It felt so hopeless and nothing in my life made any sense. I didn't belong there. Why was I being discarded like all that furniture? Why? Why? Why?
Because there is a bigger picture. I needed the staff at that building. They knew my pain, as many had been in my shoes. They respected me - even though I was still somewhat of a rookie. At that season in my life, I needed that respect as I felt inadequate in the rest of my being. I also needed their guidance in my teaching. They helped me hone my strategies and become even more successful in my career.
And the students...I needed those students. Every group of kids changes you in very specific ways, as a teacher. I can't explain exactly how this group affected me, but they did. And I have to believe God used me in their lives too. Some of those children were dealing with real tough situations, and I did my best to love them through it. And not just them, but their families as well. At that time, I was a single parent. Although it sucked, being a single mom really helped me empathize and love some of the parents of those students. They would walk through my door and share their lives with me. They knew I understood and I wouldn't judge. God used me in that classroom. ...a bigger picture.
I could go on and on about the waiting, the misunderstanding, and the bigger picture in my life:
Two days ago I was giving my girls a bath when something happened. It happened so swiftly, that on any normal day I wouldn't have given it any thought. But I had been praying through this post and it was really on my mind. It seems fitting. Sarah and Anna had been playing with old yogurt tubs, when Anna scooped up some water and was about to dump it on Sarah's head. I instinctively blocked Anna's yogurt tub and protected Sarah from the unseen deluge. Sarah never saw it coming and didn't realize that she was about to be "hurt." It happened so quickly, without thinking on my part and without Sarah ever knowing. But it spoke volumes to the 'bigger picture.' What if we are being protected? Maybe part of being stuck in the waiting room is Someone's way of protecting you from something you don't even see. He does it instinctively without us even seeing Him do it. He does it for the same reason I protected Sarah; He loves us.
We can't always see what He is protecting us from, but we can trust that He is.
Again, know that I am not trying to belittle your experiences or pain. I'm just being used to remind you that there is a bigger plan and a bigger picture here. Maybe that will lessen your pain...even just for a moment.
I love music. It works in so many facets of my life. So I thought I would share some songs that fit with this topic. I hope they will encourage you or give you strength. Again, this won't "fix it," but it may just comfort you. Two are by John Waller. The first is "While I'm Waiting," and the other is "Faith is Living." Two others are by Mercy Me: "Move" and "Beautiful." Finally, there is one by 33 Miles (I think it's called) "Jesus Calling."
It's painful. But at least try to smile at the idea that there is a bigger picture, while you are waiting.
Zach can't see the big picture like I can. He can't see that summer and warmer temperatures are coming. He can't see that searching for and purchasing these pajamas right now is not practical. Our budget is tight, retailers no longer carry such pajamas, and getting something just because you suddenly want it sets him up for all sorts of idolatry/stewarding/greed issues for the future. No. Zach can't see this big picture like I can. He does not need these pajamas. In the big picture, they just don't make any sense, provide for his needs, or ultimately love him. And when presented with the easier to find, budget friendly, and season-appropriate jammies...Guess What!? He loved them! And he was excited about how "cool" they were.
And I know that as summer arrives they are exactly what he needs. I love my son. And out of love I look at the bigger picture and make sure he gets what is best for him.
**As a side note (that may seem trivial, but really isn't): by saving money and not spending so much time and energy on those fleece pajamas, I was also able to find and purchase much-needed pajamas for the girls as well. Sometimes the big picture isn't just about the person it seems to be directly affecting at that moment. Others get their needs met too.
Isn't that what most of parenting is all about; loving our children enough to look at the big picture and make decisions that are best for them, as well as others? It is what drives us to provide for them and discipline them too. Think about if we left our children alone with no concept of the bigger picture. What a mess!
It's not too difficult to see where this is headed. So many of you responded to the last blog that you, too, are in a season of waiting - waiting for the unknown. Many of you spoke of the pain and discomfort of being stuck in the proverbial waiting room. Take a minute to think about what you're waiting for. Is is something you think you need? Or do you stand waiting for the unknown? I am waiting for the unknown. I don't know what is next for us. It's painful because I just want to know. Sometimes I think if I just knew how this will all play out, I could be much more patient in my wait. I wouldn't be so uncomfortable and emotional. I wouldn't be crying out, so often, for knowledge and relief.
But lucky for us, there is a bigger picture. A bigger picture that, although we can't see it, is much better for us than we could ever know. And there is a Parent who has this big picture in view. He can see where we've been and where we are going. And He knows what is best for us and for all others - those we see and some we have not yet met. I can say with faith and confidence that there is a bigger picture here.
I'm not saying these things to dishearten you or in some way disrespect your hurt and pain. This waiting is long and hard. Honestly, it sucks! I know. And I hate it! But I know, for myself anyway, that sometimes a little perspective helps. It is a comfort when all you want is your "softy jammies." (Not to mention that sharing in our suffering brings us together and strengthens us against against all that tries to devour - 1 Peter 5:9-10.)
How can I say, with confidence, there is a bigger picture? Because I've lived it and seen it. And I'm willing to bet you have too - if you pause and look back, honestly. Think of all the times you wanted something so badly, but when you ended up with something else - it was far better than that thing you had hoped for. If you're married, or even if you're single and dating, you know the truth of this waiting and wanting and the bigger picture. I remember dating a boy in high school that I was sure was the one I wanted for the rest of my life. When it didn't work out, I was "devastated." But God had the bigger picture, and what was best for me, in mind.
Think, also, of the times you waited and didn't understand why things were the way they were. But on the other side you could see all of the good that came out of it. When Zach was one, I suddenly had to return to working full time. It wasn't what I had planned or what I had always wanted. I'm a little old-fashioned and had planned on being a stay at home mom. But that plan quickly went out the window and I faced the reality of going back to work. Not only that, but I had just missed an opportunity to return to my previous building... by minutes, actually. There had been an opening for a first or second grade teacher, but it was given to another teacher ten minutes prior to my phone call to the district, inquiring about work. I didn't understand why that had happened. In my limited opinion, I had thought I needed the comfort of my teaching family at that time, more than ever. But...
So I went to an interview at another building in my district. And I waited to hear. Someone else got the position. I felt so rejected and unwanted. And it was a time I had just experienced a major rejection in my life. I couldn't understand.
Lucky for me, there was a bigger picture being protected by my Father. I was supposed to be at a different building. I was meant to be a part of the lives of some very specific children. God knew what they needed (and what I needed) and sent me to a place I hadn't planned and wasn't too excited about. I remember standing in that classroom, that was actually the school's surplus/storage room. It was filled with everyone's discarded furniture and supplies. And I just cried and cried. It felt so hopeless and nothing in my life made any sense. I didn't belong there. Why was I being discarded like all that furniture? Why? Why? Why?
Because there is a bigger picture. I needed the staff at that building. They knew my pain, as many had been in my shoes. They respected me - even though I was still somewhat of a rookie. At that season in my life, I needed that respect as I felt inadequate in the rest of my being. I also needed their guidance in my teaching. They helped me hone my strategies and become even more successful in my career.
And the students...I needed those students. Every group of kids changes you in very specific ways, as a teacher. I can't explain exactly how this group affected me, but they did. And I have to believe God used me in their lives too. Some of those children were dealing with real tough situations, and I did my best to love them through it. And not just them, but their families as well. At that time, I was a single parent. Although it sucked, being a single mom really helped me empathize and love some of the parents of those students. They would walk through my door and share their lives with me. They knew I understood and I wouldn't judge. God used me in that classroom. ...a bigger picture.
I could go on and on about the waiting, the misunderstanding, and the bigger picture in my life:
- Constantly moving: meeting and being in community with several different people and families; living on mission
- Living all alone in upstate New York for several months: met a life-long friend who now shares in my faith. Learned to rely on God as my companion and not just Jason.
- Broken and restored marriage: ability to love and help other struggling marriages; a far stronger marriage than we had before; realization that Jason nor I are perfect - only One is.
- Currently substitute teaching in Mossyrock SD: meeting new people, staff, and families; being a part of the lives of other students and the community
- This blog, that for so long I battled God on writing: you've shown me that He is using it to speak to you; a way to love other women and show them that they are not alone - sometimes I feel the worst part of this wait and being a women in this time in our lives is that if feels so lonely. The blog also gives purpose to some of the rough areas of my life and shows evidence of the bigger picture in real-time
Two days ago I was giving my girls a bath when something happened. It happened so swiftly, that on any normal day I wouldn't have given it any thought. But I had been praying through this post and it was really on my mind. It seems fitting. Sarah and Anna had been playing with old yogurt tubs, when Anna scooped up some water and was about to dump it on Sarah's head. I instinctively blocked Anna's yogurt tub and protected Sarah from the unseen deluge. Sarah never saw it coming and didn't realize that she was about to be "hurt." It happened so quickly, without thinking on my part and without Sarah ever knowing. But it spoke volumes to the 'bigger picture.' What if we are being protected? Maybe part of being stuck in the waiting room is Someone's way of protecting you from something you don't even see. He does it instinctively without us even seeing Him do it. He does it for the same reason I protected Sarah; He loves us.
We can't always see what He is protecting us from, but we can trust that He is.
Again, know that I am not trying to belittle your experiences or pain. I'm just being used to remind you that there is a bigger plan and a bigger picture here. Maybe that will lessen your pain...even just for a moment.
I love music. It works in so many facets of my life. So I thought I would share some songs that fit with this topic. I hope they will encourage you or give you strength. Again, this won't "fix it," but it may just comfort you. Two are by John Waller. The first is "While I'm Waiting," and the other is "Faith is Living." Two others are by Mercy Me: "Move" and "Beautiful." Finally, there is one by 33 Miles (I think it's called) "Jesus Calling."
It's painful. But at least try to smile at the idea that there is a bigger picture, while you are waiting.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
What are you waiting for?
I remember being a child waiting in line at Disneyland. The excitement and anticipation of what lay ahead was often more than a child, like me, could handle. And Oh! - the joy when I finally reached the front of the line and it was finally my turn! The rides never let me down, and it was always well worth the wait.
July 5, 1998. A girl cannot put into words the mixed emotions that come with waiting to walk down the aisle. Jason and I had been friends for years, and I just couldn't wait to be married. He is my best friend and the help-mate I was given to share my life with. But the wait leading up to that day was such a mixture of happiness, excitement, anxiety, and anticipation. I will never forget standing at the end of the aisle with my father and seeing Jason at the other end. Pure joy. And here we are, almost 13 years later. I can happily and confidently say it was worth the wait.
Not long after our wedding, in fact just a few days, I began a long journey. I began the journey of learning to wait. O.K. So the truth is I still haven't learned how to wait. I'm terrible at it. I'm that child at Disneyland jumping up and down and whining. "Is it my turn yet? How much longer?"
It started with the wait during the drive across country on the way to our new home in upstate New York. I was sure we would never get there. I was so excited to be a new wife, in a new home, on a new side of the country, on our new adventure. I just couldn't wait.
Then there was the wait, a few months later, when Jason was deployed to the Sinai desert, Egypt. Talk about a wait! There I was a newlywed, all alone in a strange place - waiting for my beloved to return. What a long, agonizing wait!
After Jason's enlistment, we returned to Washington to finish college. Unfortunately to complete our degrees and follow our "dreams," we went to two different schools on two different sides of the state...five and a half hours apart! Oh! the wait to see each other on the weekends! It was painful! The anticipation of spending time together seemed to make the wait seem even longer. And no amount of striving or trying made the wait go any faster. It just resulted in a few speeding tickets near Ellensburg.
Then there's the ten months of waiting - three times. There is nothing that can replace the joy of finding out I was pregnant. I've always loved children. But I had no idea about the instant, overwhelming love for my children. Nor did I have any comprehension of how long that ten months wait really feels. I was so excited to see and hold those babies. I just couldn't wait! Why the long wait? And towards the end, with swollen feet and short nerves, I was sure the wait would never end and I'd be pregnant forever!
All of these waits have been exciting. Sure some were harder than others. Some involved tears and "are we there yet?" But I almost always knew when and how the wait would end. It was a wait of anticipation, joy, and delight. But what about the waits for the unknown? What about the times I've waited for unknown results with unknown time lines? Those have not been such joyful, happy waits.
There's the pain of waiting to hear about a job. We've been sure we were following God's call in our lives. But the wait to get an answer causes such stress. And the fact that you don't know if you are the one the employer is looking for causes some real sleepless nights. Jason and I, both, have been through this a few times.
There's the wait when you apply to rent a home. I distinctly remember the wait. There have been times we finally found a home that met our wish list. We liked the neighborhood and the house. We get excited about the move and getting a fresh start. We could picture ourselves in this new dwelling. But waiting to hear back from the landlord can be long and tough. Several times we didn't know what the answer might be or how it might turn out.
There's the wait when our children have been sick. When will he ever get better? Will this get worse? Is something going on in his body - worse than what it appears to be? That unknown can get scary.
But the toughest waits are the ones that shake the very foundations of who you are. These are the waits that interrupt your life. There you are, cruising along with your plans for life. When suddenly something comes along and stops your whole world. And then you wait. Wait for it to end. Wait for life to move on. Wait for the result so you can restructure the route you were taking. Wait for some sort of answer...some sort of wisdom...some sort of plan. What next? Where do we go from here? What should I do? How should I handle this? Will I survive? Will this season ever end? This is the worst kind of wait. The worst.
That wait, while Jason was in Egypt, was one of my first experiences with really difficult waits. I knew this wait was coming, but I had no idea how truly difficult it would be. I was all alone. I made a few new friends, but no one that seemed to really "understand me" the way Jason always seemed to. He knew me. He knew my history and my present. I was so lonely without him. I remember crying for hours, wishing he could just come home. I was crying for my weakness too. What kind of person cries and carries on like this? What kind of person feels so all alone in a room filled with people? What was wrong with me? Would this wait and struggle ever end?
Years later, I experienced one of the most terrible, life altering, knock-you-off-your-tracks and change your identity waits. I was just plugging along in life. I had a wonderful husband who had a job he was finally enjoying and a new baby boy that I was lucky enough to get to stay home with. We were in a new town, in a new home, and were spending time getting to know the area. We had found a church body that seemed to really match our walk, at that point. Life seemed pretty good. I was happy. But slowly, that all seemed to start shifting. And sometime was wrong. Terribly wrong. Without any warning, my marriage began to unravel and fall apart. This perfect marriage that I had placed on a pedestal was falling to the ground. I couldn't believe it was happening and neither could anyone who knew us. We all watched it slowly slip, and before anyone could grab hold and catch it the whole thing hit the ground and shattered into a million little fragments that no longer resembled our beautiful union. I was completely devastated. This wasn't supposed to happen; not to Jason and Christie. Not us. This happened to other people. And now what? What was I supposed to do? Fight? Walk away? I had no idea. All I could do was wait. It's all I had. I didn't wait well, though. I started out waiting a few days on my parents' couch in a fog. Then I spent several weeks waiting in bars and at parties. Drunk made the waiting not so painful. With no answers and no idea how I got to this place, I just kept waiting. I continued my wait burying myself in parenting and work. I cried out to God for answers. I cried out for the waiting to end. I drank, cried, smoked, prayed, screamed, cried, prayed some more, and hurt a whole lot. This wait was more than I could handle. I was sure I was being punished for sin in my life. So I would spend hours and days re-hashing all the events that had lead to this waiting trying to figure out what I had to do (striving) to make the season of waiting come to an end. People around me couldn't understand what I was waiting for and thought I was crazy for waiting. I needed to just walk away from the wait and move forward. It was a lonely wait once others gave up on my waiting. But something held me there, waiting. And there was no guarantee as to how the waiting would end. That was the worst part. It physically hurt to not know what I was waiting for. I know what I wanted more than anything. But the reality is, that was very unlikely. I was waiting for a healed marriage. But there was no guarantee that is what was going to happen. So, I just waited. Two and a half years of waiting. And when God knew I could not trudge through the wait any longer, He healed the marriage and moved us out of that season of our life. (Not that is was a quick healing, but that's a discussion for a further post.)
Another life-altering, world-stops-moving wait occurred in an ER. It was December 2008 and I rushed in carrying my lifeless baby girl, Anna, in my arms. She wasn't quite one yet, and something was terribly wrong. She was extremely pale and lifeless, yet her heart was racing out of control. When the on-call doctor had asked how many beats per minute her heart was beating, Jason hadn't even been able to count. It was going that fast. What was wrong with my baby? And talk about waiting! I've never seen such slow moving nurses and doctors. O.K. So, in hindsight, they probably were moving at a normal emergency pace. But when it's your child laying there on a gurney no one can move fast enough. And no one had any answers. They didn't seem to know what was causing Anna's racing heart or how they should go about slowing it down. I remember crying out, again. God, please make this waiting stop! Fix my baby! When the doctors finally came up with an idea, they needed to insert in IV into my baby. But her heart had been working so hard for so long that her veins were all collapsing; not to mention how small they are to begin with. So getting an IV into this child took forever! Why was this all taking so long? Why was the room spinning? How could this crazy ER be so loud and so quiet all at the same time? Why did I have to step outside and find some air? Fix my baby, please! Finally, after hours of a lifeless Anna, several failed attempts to insert an IV, a couple of failed drugs, much screaming, crying, praying, and waiting....it was over. Anna survived, we had a diagnosis, and we began our journey of a child who had episodes of SVT. Anna currently takes medicine three times a day and we now wait for her to outgrow it or for an age when it will be safe to operate on the nerves that cause her heart to race out of control. One wait ended, but another continues - in regard to our baby's heart.
The pain and discomfort of such waits had worn me out. And yet I, again, find myself in a place of waiting. I'm tired and don't know how much more uncertainty I can handle. I feel like I am being dragged through this season of wait and I'm can't see the finish line. Sometimes I find myself wondering if this is a season or if this is the permanent state of my life. We have been living with my parents, without permanent, steady employment for over two years now. The small contracting company we owned went under with the economy and we have been in this 'season' ever since. What we thought would be fixed and healed within a few months has now gone on for years. I know we are not alone in this wait. Many families are dealing with this struggle and pain, right now. And sometimes that lessens the hurt. But other days it doesn't seem to matter; I want it to end.
I continuously go from optimistic to trusting God to anger to doubt to feeling hopeless and back to optimistic. I feel guilty for doubting God's plan for my life and then spiral down into depression and extremely low self-esteem. I cry out, shout out, and strive. I get mad, sad, confused, and weak. My body and soul feel physically ravaged. I can't stand this wait. There are days I am paralyzed by this wait and the unknown. I feel like getting out of bed, in the morning, is the biggest chore. I feel guilty that there are days the wait wears me out to the point that I just can't/don't want to be a mom and my children spend time in front of the square baby sitter. This wait just makes me feel weak. And I find myself thinking, "What is wrong with me? Why can't I get a hold of my faith and my emotions?"
But parts of my waiting have 'grown-up' and changed. I have learned to find some joy in my waiting. I have three, happy, beautiful children and an amazing husband. I have a roof over my head and food in my tummy. My children are getting irreplaceable time with my parents. I live in a beautiful area of Washington, close to my mountain. I'm meeting new people and making new friends. And I'm really enjoying small town/rural living - something I kind of despised after growing up in a small town. And my faith has stretched and grown to places I've never thought possible. I feel hopeful and full of faith, knowing that God is using Jason, the children, and I right now and will use this in the future. But all of that doesn't change the fact that I'm still stuck here; waiting. I'm waiting for a finish line that I can't identify and have no idea when we will reach. And I find myself asking, "How much longer? Are we there yet?"
Are you waiting? What are you waiting for? Is your wait going well? Or is it uncomfortable and painful?
Please know that you won't always wait. And you won't always be so unsettled. I don't have all the answers, but I can confidently say that Someone is in charge of this chaos and waiting. That Someone has a plan. And more often than not, His plan is far better than ours.
Verses for encouragement: The Psalms are filled with patterns of despair and distress followed by God's mercy and love. Here are just a few that I hope will encourage and strengthen you.
July 5, 1998. A girl cannot put into words the mixed emotions that come with waiting to walk down the aisle. Jason and I had been friends for years, and I just couldn't wait to be married. He is my best friend and the help-mate I was given to share my life with. But the wait leading up to that day was such a mixture of happiness, excitement, anxiety, and anticipation. I will never forget standing at the end of the aisle with my father and seeing Jason at the other end. Pure joy. And here we are, almost 13 years later. I can happily and confidently say it was worth the wait.
Not long after our wedding, in fact just a few days, I began a long journey. I began the journey of learning to wait. O.K. So the truth is I still haven't learned how to wait. I'm terrible at it. I'm that child at Disneyland jumping up and down and whining. "Is it my turn yet? How much longer?"
It started with the wait during the drive across country on the way to our new home in upstate New York. I was sure we would never get there. I was so excited to be a new wife, in a new home, on a new side of the country, on our new adventure. I just couldn't wait.
Then there was the wait, a few months later, when Jason was deployed to the Sinai desert, Egypt. Talk about a wait! There I was a newlywed, all alone in a strange place - waiting for my beloved to return. What a long, agonizing wait!
After Jason's enlistment, we returned to Washington to finish college. Unfortunately to complete our degrees and follow our "dreams," we went to two different schools on two different sides of the state...five and a half hours apart! Oh! the wait to see each other on the weekends! It was painful! The anticipation of spending time together seemed to make the wait seem even longer. And no amount of striving or trying made the wait go any faster. It just resulted in a few speeding tickets near Ellensburg.
Then there's the ten months of waiting - three times. There is nothing that can replace the joy of finding out I was pregnant. I've always loved children. But I had no idea about the instant, overwhelming love for my children. Nor did I have any comprehension of how long that ten months wait really feels. I was so excited to see and hold those babies. I just couldn't wait! Why the long wait? And towards the end, with swollen feet and short nerves, I was sure the wait would never end and I'd be pregnant forever!
All of these waits have been exciting. Sure some were harder than others. Some involved tears and "are we there yet?" But I almost always knew when and how the wait would end. It was a wait of anticipation, joy, and delight. But what about the waits for the unknown? What about the times I've waited for unknown results with unknown time lines? Those have not been such joyful, happy waits.
There's the pain of waiting to hear about a job. We've been sure we were following God's call in our lives. But the wait to get an answer causes such stress. And the fact that you don't know if you are the one the employer is looking for causes some real sleepless nights. Jason and I, both, have been through this a few times.
There's the wait when you apply to rent a home. I distinctly remember the wait. There have been times we finally found a home that met our wish list. We liked the neighborhood and the house. We get excited about the move and getting a fresh start. We could picture ourselves in this new dwelling. But waiting to hear back from the landlord can be long and tough. Several times we didn't know what the answer might be or how it might turn out.
There's the wait when our children have been sick. When will he ever get better? Will this get worse? Is something going on in his body - worse than what it appears to be? That unknown can get scary.
But the toughest waits are the ones that shake the very foundations of who you are. These are the waits that interrupt your life. There you are, cruising along with your plans for life. When suddenly something comes along and stops your whole world. And then you wait. Wait for it to end. Wait for life to move on. Wait for the result so you can restructure the route you were taking. Wait for some sort of answer...some sort of wisdom...some sort of plan. What next? Where do we go from here? What should I do? How should I handle this? Will I survive? Will this season ever end? This is the worst kind of wait. The worst.
That wait, while Jason was in Egypt, was one of my first experiences with really difficult waits. I knew this wait was coming, but I had no idea how truly difficult it would be. I was all alone. I made a few new friends, but no one that seemed to really "understand me" the way Jason always seemed to. He knew me. He knew my history and my present. I was so lonely without him. I remember crying for hours, wishing he could just come home. I was crying for my weakness too. What kind of person cries and carries on like this? What kind of person feels so all alone in a room filled with people? What was wrong with me? Would this wait and struggle ever end?
Years later, I experienced one of the most terrible, life altering, knock-you-off-your-tracks and change your identity waits. I was just plugging along in life. I had a wonderful husband who had a job he was finally enjoying and a new baby boy that I was lucky enough to get to stay home with. We were in a new town, in a new home, and were spending time getting to know the area. We had found a church body that seemed to really match our walk, at that point. Life seemed pretty good. I was happy. But slowly, that all seemed to start shifting. And sometime was wrong. Terribly wrong. Without any warning, my marriage began to unravel and fall apart. This perfect marriage that I had placed on a pedestal was falling to the ground. I couldn't believe it was happening and neither could anyone who knew us. We all watched it slowly slip, and before anyone could grab hold and catch it the whole thing hit the ground and shattered into a million little fragments that no longer resembled our beautiful union. I was completely devastated. This wasn't supposed to happen; not to Jason and Christie. Not us. This happened to other people. And now what? What was I supposed to do? Fight? Walk away? I had no idea. All I could do was wait. It's all I had. I didn't wait well, though. I started out waiting a few days on my parents' couch in a fog. Then I spent several weeks waiting in bars and at parties. Drunk made the waiting not so painful. With no answers and no idea how I got to this place, I just kept waiting. I continued my wait burying myself in parenting and work. I cried out to God for answers. I cried out for the waiting to end. I drank, cried, smoked, prayed, screamed, cried, prayed some more, and hurt a whole lot. This wait was more than I could handle. I was sure I was being punished for sin in my life. So I would spend hours and days re-hashing all the events that had lead to this waiting trying to figure out what I had to do (striving) to make the season of waiting come to an end. People around me couldn't understand what I was waiting for and thought I was crazy for waiting. I needed to just walk away from the wait and move forward. It was a lonely wait once others gave up on my waiting. But something held me there, waiting. And there was no guarantee as to how the waiting would end. That was the worst part. It physically hurt to not know what I was waiting for. I know what I wanted more than anything. But the reality is, that was very unlikely. I was waiting for a healed marriage. But there was no guarantee that is what was going to happen. So, I just waited. Two and a half years of waiting. And when God knew I could not trudge through the wait any longer, He healed the marriage and moved us out of that season of our life. (Not that is was a quick healing, but that's a discussion for a further post.)
Another life-altering, world-stops-moving wait occurred in an ER. It was December 2008 and I rushed in carrying my lifeless baby girl, Anna, in my arms. She wasn't quite one yet, and something was terribly wrong. She was extremely pale and lifeless, yet her heart was racing out of control. When the on-call doctor had asked how many beats per minute her heart was beating, Jason hadn't even been able to count. It was going that fast. What was wrong with my baby? And talk about waiting! I've never seen such slow moving nurses and doctors. O.K. So, in hindsight, they probably were moving at a normal emergency pace. But when it's your child laying there on a gurney no one can move fast enough. And no one had any answers. They didn't seem to know what was causing Anna's racing heart or how they should go about slowing it down. I remember crying out, again. God, please make this waiting stop! Fix my baby! When the doctors finally came up with an idea, they needed to insert in IV into my baby. But her heart had been working so hard for so long that her veins were all collapsing; not to mention how small they are to begin with. So getting an IV into this child took forever! Why was this all taking so long? Why was the room spinning? How could this crazy ER be so loud and so quiet all at the same time? Why did I have to step outside and find some air? Fix my baby, please! Finally, after hours of a lifeless Anna, several failed attempts to insert an IV, a couple of failed drugs, much screaming, crying, praying, and waiting....it was over. Anna survived, we had a diagnosis, and we began our journey of a child who had episodes of SVT. Anna currently takes medicine three times a day and we now wait for her to outgrow it or for an age when it will be safe to operate on the nerves that cause her heart to race out of control. One wait ended, but another continues - in regard to our baby's heart.
The pain and discomfort of such waits had worn me out. And yet I, again, find myself in a place of waiting. I'm tired and don't know how much more uncertainty I can handle. I feel like I am being dragged through this season of wait and I'm can't see the finish line. Sometimes I find myself wondering if this is a season or if this is the permanent state of my life. We have been living with my parents, without permanent, steady employment for over two years now. The small contracting company we owned went under with the economy and we have been in this 'season' ever since. What we thought would be fixed and healed within a few months has now gone on for years. I know we are not alone in this wait. Many families are dealing with this struggle and pain, right now. And sometimes that lessens the hurt. But other days it doesn't seem to matter; I want it to end.
I continuously go from optimistic to trusting God to anger to doubt to feeling hopeless and back to optimistic. I feel guilty for doubting God's plan for my life and then spiral down into depression and extremely low self-esteem. I cry out, shout out, and strive. I get mad, sad, confused, and weak. My body and soul feel physically ravaged. I can't stand this wait. There are days I am paralyzed by this wait and the unknown. I feel like getting out of bed, in the morning, is the biggest chore. I feel guilty that there are days the wait wears me out to the point that I just can't/don't want to be a mom and my children spend time in front of the square baby sitter. This wait just makes me feel weak. And I find myself thinking, "What is wrong with me? Why can't I get a hold of my faith and my emotions?"
But parts of my waiting have 'grown-up' and changed. I have learned to find some joy in my waiting. I have three, happy, beautiful children and an amazing husband. I have a roof over my head and food in my tummy. My children are getting irreplaceable time with my parents. I live in a beautiful area of Washington, close to my mountain. I'm meeting new people and making new friends. And I'm really enjoying small town/rural living - something I kind of despised after growing up in a small town. And my faith has stretched and grown to places I've never thought possible. I feel hopeful and full of faith, knowing that God is using Jason, the children, and I right now and will use this in the future. But all of that doesn't change the fact that I'm still stuck here; waiting. I'm waiting for a finish line that I can't identify and have no idea when we will reach. And I find myself asking, "How much longer? Are we there yet?"
Are you waiting? What are you waiting for? Is your wait going well? Or is it uncomfortable and painful?
Please know that you won't always wait. And you won't always be so unsettled. I don't have all the answers, but I can confidently say that Someone is in charge of this chaos and waiting. That Someone has a plan. And more often than not, His plan is far better than ours.
Verses for encouragement: The Psalms are filled with patterns of despair and distress followed by God's mercy and love. Here are just a few that I hope will encourage and strengthen you.
- Psalm 25, specifically verses 4-5
- Psalm 27:13-14 speaks volumes to painful waiting: "I could have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes wait for the Lord." (NASB)
- Psalm 31 speaks of the Rock of our strength
- Psalm 33:20-22
- Psalm 34:17-19
- Psalm 37 speaks of the wait and rest in the Lord
- In Psalm 78:11-20, the Sons of Ephraim forgot God's deeds/miracles in previous, seemingly impossible situations. Let us not forget God's power even when we can't see a solution to our wait.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Hopeless
There is an evil word that is forever being whispered in my ear. Hopeless. I know better than to listen to this quiet voice, but sometimes my humanity takes the reins and listens. I hear it often. And when you hear something for long enough, you begin to believe it. Right?
Lately, I've been hearing that word quite a bit. I have so much on my proverbial plate, lately, that it's easy for the liar to tell me how hopeless it is and how useless I am in all these current situations. It is really wearing me out. I feel like I'm running on a treadmill and getting nowhere fast. And my esteem is taking quite a beating too.
How can I possibly be a good mother with all the other "stuff" I've committed to? How dare I commit to all these things, when I'm so devoted to raising my children? What kind of wife doesn't give more attention to her husband? How dare I rely on him so much right now? How am I supposed to be a good sister, daughter, and friend when I can't even handle all the stuff in my life right now? Who do I think I am?
Well, let's not even go there. Along with helpless, the lies just continue to build. All the things wrong with me seem to be magnified when life is feeling hopeless. Can you see how this lie snowballs?
This liar who whispers to me tries to remind me how often my life has felt hopeless. Unfortunately for this liar, it tends to work against him. Because when I look back on all the times my life has seemed hopeless....it has NEVER ended like that. In fact, it has always ended with the exact opposite; Hope.
I look back at a hopeless situation from my childhood. Turned out just fine, and those involved continue to heal daily. I look back at our hopeless situation with our educations (Jason and mine), and that turned out with two, separate degrees. I remember the hopelessness of an extremely broken marriage. From the outside looking in, there was truly no hope. The world wrote our marriage off. But here we are, years later, with the hope of two more beautiful siblings for our son and a far stronger marriage than we ever thought possible. I look at our hopeless idolizing of money, and although we struggle without, our view of money and our money management has changed drastically for the better. I look back at the hopeless feeling of a child with a heart condition. Yet this child is full of hope and will live a long, healthy life. I am reminded of the hopeless feeling of sick grandparents. But am filled with comfort and joy in knowing they are no longer in pain and are Home. I remember the hopeless feeling of losing a family business and watching two of the dearest men in my life struggle. Yet, daily, I am watching these men grow stronger and heal from their loss; hope. I could go on and on....
But here I am. And I feel like I am facing a hopeless situation. I know the truth is there is Hope. I know it will all turn out. I know the winning pattern of my life will continue. But when you are in it, the liar whispers and it takes all my strength not to listen.
Lately, I've been hearing that word quite a bit. I have so much on my proverbial plate, lately, that it's easy for the liar to tell me how hopeless it is and how useless I am in all these current situations. It is really wearing me out. I feel like I'm running on a treadmill and getting nowhere fast. And my esteem is taking quite a beating too.
How can I possibly be a good mother with all the other "stuff" I've committed to? How dare I commit to all these things, when I'm so devoted to raising my children? What kind of wife doesn't give more attention to her husband? How dare I rely on him so much right now? How am I supposed to be a good sister, daughter, and friend when I can't even handle all the stuff in my life right now? Who do I think I am?
Well, let's not even go there. Along with helpless, the lies just continue to build. All the things wrong with me seem to be magnified when life is feeling hopeless. Can you see how this lie snowballs?
This liar who whispers to me tries to remind me how often my life has felt hopeless. Unfortunately for this liar, it tends to work against him. Because when I look back on all the times my life has seemed hopeless....it has NEVER ended like that. In fact, it has always ended with the exact opposite; Hope.
I look back at a hopeless situation from my childhood. Turned out just fine, and those involved continue to heal daily. I look back at our hopeless situation with our educations (Jason and mine), and that turned out with two, separate degrees. I remember the hopelessness of an extremely broken marriage. From the outside looking in, there was truly no hope. The world wrote our marriage off. But here we are, years later, with the hope of two more beautiful siblings for our son and a far stronger marriage than we ever thought possible. I look at our hopeless idolizing of money, and although we struggle without, our view of money and our money management has changed drastically for the better. I look back at the hopeless feeling of a child with a heart condition. Yet this child is full of hope and will live a long, healthy life. I am reminded of the hopeless feeling of sick grandparents. But am filled with comfort and joy in knowing they are no longer in pain and are Home. I remember the hopeless feeling of losing a family business and watching two of the dearest men in my life struggle. Yet, daily, I am watching these men grow stronger and heal from their loss; hope. I could go on and on....
But here I am. And I feel like I am facing a hopeless situation. I know the truth is there is Hope. I know it will all turn out. I know the winning pattern of my life will continue. But when you are in it, the liar whispers and it takes all my strength not to listen.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Hi! How are you?
How many times have you answered "fine," "good," or "great" to this question, only to hear that voice in your head scream the word "LIAR!!!"? It's the answer we all give and it's the answer we all want to hear. By hearing or giving the answer "good" there is no obligation. We don't have to give or take any more information. And it's easy. It's easy because we don't have to open up and share how we really are doing. We don't have to really listen to how someone else might be doing.
Are we afraid? Are we afraid that if people really knew how we are doing they might judge? Laugh? Point? Hate? If people knew the real story, behind this mask that I wear, they might just walk away.
I know that veil. I've worn it my whole life. And to an extent, I've worn it well. But as days and years pass, I realize that I wasn't designed to hide behind a mask. The veil was torn, and I was meant live ....well, to be honest, I don't know. But what I do know is that I was not designed to hide.
You may be surprised, if you follow this blog, by what you will read. Some of you have never met me, but your story is very similar to mine. Maybe you are struggling through something and are tired of saying "I'm fine." I hope you are happily surprised to find there is someone who has been there and has survived. Many of you may do know me, personally. You may find some things about me surprising, humorous, offensive, or just plain shocking. It might change your opinion of me.
But, in obedience to the One who designed me, I'm going to remove my veil and share me. This is a very big risk I'm taking. And it's scary. Yet it's been weighing on my heart for several years now, and it's time I do something. I meet people all the time who benefit from hearing my story, and I hope this small blog will do the same.
This is not an attempt to make myself look or feel better because I somehow "survive." And it's not about pouring out the sad ramblings of a thirty-something. This is about sharing me in attempt to glorify Him. Plain and simple. Besides, I'm not a sad thirty-something. I'm truly happy. You might even say I'm "fine."
Are we afraid? Are we afraid that if people really knew how we are doing they might judge? Laugh? Point? Hate? If people knew the real story, behind this mask that I wear, they might just walk away.
I know that veil. I've worn it my whole life. And to an extent, I've worn it well. But as days and years pass, I realize that I wasn't designed to hide behind a mask. The veil was torn, and I was meant live ....well, to be honest, I don't know. But what I do know is that I was not designed to hide.
You may be surprised, if you follow this blog, by what you will read. Some of you have never met me, but your story is very similar to mine. Maybe you are struggling through something and are tired of saying "I'm fine." I hope you are happily surprised to find there is someone who has been there and has survived. Many of you may do know me, personally. You may find some things about me surprising, humorous, offensive, or just plain shocking. It might change your opinion of me.
But, in obedience to the One who designed me, I'm going to remove my veil and share me. This is a very big risk I'm taking. And it's scary. Yet it's been weighing on my heart for several years now, and it's time I do something. I meet people all the time who benefit from hearing my story, and I hope this small blog will do the same.
This is not an attempt to make myself look or feel better because I somehow "survive." And it's not about pouring out the sad ramblings of a thirty-something. This is about sharing me in attempt to glorify Him. Plain and simple. Besides, I'm not a sad thirty-something. I'm truly happy. You might even say I'm "fine."
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