The Shattered Mind...

I absolutely love the show Hoarders...and the TLC cousin Hoarding. My mom cannot stand them. But I love them. Why? Great question! I think it's because I love seeing the clutter get organized and there being some sort of resolution. I enjoy seeing the "helping/therapy process". But there is something more...

I identify with the people. Having struggled with major depression and anxiety, I totally understand how *some* of the houses get there. Now, some are just crazy - I clean my bathroom regularly. But I am a messy person and definitely have some hoarding tendencies. Every time I watch shows on obsessive compulsion, I know I have similar tendencies there. And from time to time, it makes me nervous.

Tonight, as I was watching the show, I have gone back to that place where I really want to know what has caused it. Typically, major traumatic events or emotional scarring happens to trigger the hoarding - it's sort of like a latent disease that lurks in the background, always there or encoded in your genes until something turns the "show the illness" switch on.

Never in the past did I feel such depression about living. I was a messy kid, but I cleaned my room regularly (courtesy of some strong encouragement from my mom). Lately, my room has been a shambles. And I haven't even cared to touch it. And I acquired stuff from college, etc. that has piled up. I did sell some stuff at garage sales and did get rid of lot, which was very cathartic and freeing. But I feel like I still own to much.

A few factors as to why I hold on to some things:

1. Too many ideas, too little start up: This is a case of lots of hobbies - but the answer lurks deeper in unfinished business. I did some hobbies as a kid, and while I like to learn, my motivation has waned. Part of this probably has to do with an ongoing battle with perfectionism - and I have swung the pendulum so far to the other end from where I was. I would do everything, and I didn't feel it was enough. Now I do nothing because I know it will never be enough. And the devil lies in the extremes. So, I keep stuff around, acting like I will get to it. But I feel like there is this invisible forcefield of "not enough time" to where I will spend money on it, but I don't want to spend time on it. What's that about? This can (and I know it is) is tied to impatience for learning new things coupled with, simply, horrendous impatience in general. I think I don't want to spend time because I don't want to be patient and see the project through, sticking with it.

2. Past burns with work: I could name a bajillion excuses for why I'm not motivated - and many of them are valid, but I wish to simply get back to work and out of depression. High school was a devastating time for me. I wish I had never applied to the Magnet Program I entered - I wanted to be "the best and the brightest", but I don't think I really wanted to work for it. Somewhere in the mix, I was burned out, either by a teacher, or feeling so behind that I gave up because I couldn't finish the semester "perfectly." With the teacher, it was the pacing of the class along with the explanations and actual teaching that left me in the dark. This happened twice - and doing poorly in one class impacted my thought of doing things "perfectly" for the others.

In thinking about what I am writing here, I feel like I live a domino mentality. Have you ever seen the movie the Replacements? Keanu Reeves's character (I don't listen to the others, Keanu, I love you!) talks about quick sand where one error after another error happens in a football game, and the player (or team) feels like they can't get out. Then morale starts to slip, and players feel trapped, and some give up. I think that's me - I think I give up. On domino in the little pattern falls. I don't rebound well after failure. After failing (I've never failed a class, but I've disappointed myself enough to have felt that AWFUL feeling of failure), I think I don't want to risk it again. And if you don't try, you don't fail, right? But I'm finding that I feel like the greater failure is not trying because I'm feeling pain in a different, more numbing and depressing ways. And I think I'm trying to medicate by saying that I'm going to do all these things and accomplish this, that, or the other, but I fear that I won't do them, and that is another failure. So I hold on, trying to say that "even though I'm not touching it right now, I will" and this saves me from feeling like I have failed to start or try. Messed up, right? I know!

3. Trauma: I have been well-provided for and cared for, but there have been two things that really devastated me. The biggest was the divorce of my parents. My spending when out of control when my parents divorced and I started college. I went from just my student loans at the Art Institute my first year, to credit cards and more student loans up till now. I purchase things out of control, didn't have a budget. It was awful and I still struggle now. Not to mention the pain of that divorce, the silence about what was happening when my parents were clearly divided the year before they actually separated, took its toll and I remember that I was very anxious then. By buying things, after their divorce, I think that I was trying to neutralize the emotion to desire things by purchasing them and neutralizing the feeling of want. I couldn't neutralize the pain of the divorce because that process was so ongoing. And, being impatient, I needed a stimulus or a drug or something to make me feel in control at that moment, when my family was crumbling, something that I could not control. Losing control is a sickening thing that messes up an impatient perfectionist. And it was the perfect storm for me to create a disastrous mess of myself and my mind. The second trauma was moving to the South when I was a child. While not as major as the divorce of my parents, the loss of control began again - and I think it might have been what triggered me to overeat. Again, to control the emotions and manage myself, I think I used food as a drug - something I could control the amount of. Since restraint was bad, and more was good, I let myself have as much as I wanted. Add a dose of rejection, and well, I mean, CLEARLY, I was entitled to enjoy at least whatever food I wanted. It's amazing the things we use to justify sin.

In any case, I don't really know myself, my mind is a shambles of thoughts and not-quite-thoughts - and now I think my living spaces and work ethic are reflecting that broken mind. I feel like I have too many possibilities to consider for what's wrong, too many ways do this or that, and I'm overwhelmed. But you know what's so wonderful and merciful about all this hard stuff? Thinking about it tonight, I kind of know where to start thinking and praying about healing and getting better. I know that it is not within me to fix myself - I feel that damaged and depressed by my own mind-world. But I really believe that if I keep at the work of honoring the Lord by the power of the Holy Spirit through prayers of thanksgiving and supplication, I will finally conquer the perfectionism, depression, lack of motivation, and impatience that are affecting me. Since they are sin-based, I have a great hope of getting better since God desires us to cease sinning and He will provide us with the means to defeat it (and already has through the death and resurrection of Jesus). I'm so thankful for glimmers of hope in vast darkness.

Dichotomy of Desire...

It's remarkable what time does and how you learn. I've been contemplating a few things that seem to have required three year time to boil down - it really is like a pot of something being boiled down to its most basic mush so that you can really know what it looks like broken down.

Things I'm understanding:

1. I live life continually thinking that I need to be a better version of myself and that I want to grow. I've known this, but what I haven't realized is that there are not very many people who hold this view for themselves. I'm seeing that one of my deepest desires is, simply, to change.

2. I am absolutely lost as to what I want to accomplish in life. I'm almost afraid to decide, to commit, to execute. I don't know why. I was driving and praying yesterday, trying to understand. It could be a fear of failure, it could be a fear of success. I fear that I'd try something, spend time on it, and not like it. I really grieve over this.

I think there are so many in this sinking ship that I'm in. One hears so many stories of people struggling with what they should do with their life. God's extra grace in mine is that I have been motivated to work without being absolutely in love what I do. But I'm feeling my motivation dwindle and wan with depression. This is the strongest I have ever felt so lost and hopeless about where to go and what to do. And what demons lurk within me. And I wonder if I am being completely honest with myself, even after all of the soul searching. I feel like the pleasure for some things has been diminished. But why??? In movies, they sometimes talk about a person's spirit being broken, and the symptoms seem to include a feeling of defeat, hopelessness, and grief. I wonder if I'm sensitive to being discouraged by others. And this would make complete sense given my personality.

Mired in self-doubt, I constantly wonder if I am "doing the right thing," "making the right decision," and "going where I need to go." I cannot say how much my hopefulness has been crushed by naysayers, which is highly understandable. As an observer of people, I know that many pursuits are frivolous and people do stupid things and don't know what they are getting into. But not everyone is like that when they take a risk, especially if the risk is calculated. Perhaps what I ought to do is write how I really, really, really feel without my Christian filter on. As a believer, I know what the "good thoughts" are and the "bad thoughts" and the "I shouldn't think that..." but I wonder if I try to hold myself back with my flesh I'm really not fixing the emotions at all. The question is, how does one impede the emotions? Of course it requires change, but I'm afraid that, well, that I won't. And that's what I want the most, right? Or is that just what I have convinced myself?

I'm Moses...

...not in the "I've seen God face to face" way. I'm him in the doubtful way. Depression has seeped into so much of my life over the past three months that I feel constantly down, unmotivated, and hopeless.

Like many who suffer with feeling depressed, I feel the "what use am I?" feelings. Feeling like I can do no good to God's kingdom, just feeling like it was an "Okay, sure, you can become a Christian - but you won't really plan a particular part in any of the major things going on." But I had to remember on Sunday that it matters not what mankind thinks when I serve and work, but it does matter to God - and He is the only one whose opinion counts everyday. But I still was (and am) having trouble shaking the feeling. There are glimmers of hope, though.

Tonight at BSF, something dawned on me that I hadn't thought about before. Typically, when the fractured puzzle pieces of seasons in my life are far apart, God is the one who makes them all fit together to make sense. The leader said something that struct me, but the rabbit trail it led me down was an eye-opener. She spoke of what a believer's witness was. And I immediately thought that I my witness, based on what it's related to in terms of being submitted to Christ, impacted by the Gospel, was not good lately. I've been acting brazen, just handling life as it came at me. But it reminded me of Moses. So caught up in my doubt of my influence and abilities to do any good, I have not been doing the ONE THING that we believers must do - share the Gospel with others.

From here, I asked what's become an obvious question for me to ask myself, "Why am I not doing this and what do I think is causing me to feel like I'm powerless to share and make a difference?" And I thought, "What do I believe?" As I've reflected on this for this particular post, this question morphed into, "What have I accepted about myself that's weakening my witness?" And I knew because it was obvious. I'll relate some background before I go into what I learned about myself.

There are times when lies hurt you and you want to rid yourself of the pain. But more sinister is the lie that you feel like is legitimate, based on past experience and circumstances, you accept it, and it doesn't SEEM to bother you. I've experienced freedom from the lies before, but tonight I saw the accepted lie that I've just learned to deal with as a sort of social role. Some people know of my history with rejection - it's been extensive. Still growing, this history of mine, but perhaps not because of others. I was rejected, rejected again, then rejected some more. I have this theory that we make "if....then...therefore" statements for ourselves based on one thing, and we broaden the rule to other areas of life - this is what I had done because it helps me organize logical patterns of action. Then sin nature poisons that gift and I have to defeat thoughts that are wrong. If I were to sum up my thoughts on who I am in my life and in the culture where I work and live, it is "If I am rejected a lot, then I must not be a person who people want to be around or ever listen to, therefore I won't bother sharing since no one will hear me out anyway." I would have lived in this just fine, if not for one thing - I think, and I'm pretty sure, that I'm an extrovert. I ALWAYS want to hang out with people - I will ditch anything I think I NEED to do in order to hang out with someone, usually anyone, just to spend time with them and feel good. I like the spontaneity, and until recently, would feel so much guilt over ditching the "should-dos" thinking there was something wrong with me. But truthfully, I hadn't been embracing who I'm really wired to be because I was so consumed with trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be. Anyway, back to my point - any one of my friends would tell you that I HATE being pigeonholed by culture and worldliness - being told who I should be by people who are not God and do not own me. But in tonight's message - I realized that I had done just that and ACCEPTED IT, and was working with it, like negotiations with the devil - as if, "Okay, so I'll deal with this and just be content with being different! And I knew that by accepting this and feeling like, hey, it's okay, I'm just not one of those persuasive, "adored" people who others want to follow that my witness was being crippled; I was thinking that I'm just "not an evangelist" because I was convinced that my role in this life was not to be someone who could encourage people to Christ. But the spiritual command to share the Gospel was impeded by a worldly pigeonhole! That just isn't supposed to be so! I felt convicted then - I needed to repent for saying okay to the world and giving up because I had felt some pains. I needed to repent for taking it easy by saying "I'm no one, so I won't bother." For making it easy on my emotions to not risk and risk and risk again.

In that moment, it occurred to me that I really need to be praying for opportunities to share the Gospel because I am not a tool of the culture around me. God's Gospel is God's Gospel, and I am no better (and no worse) than anyone else to share it. And, it's possible that my acceptance of this role has impeded building relationships with others. Who wants to be around someone who feels so worthless? Who feels powerless? Who feels bent out of shape? But who needs people? When you combine these toxic ingredients, no doubt, you come off as needy - which many people who suffer depression come off as.

What am I trying to say? Well, that I, much as I love Jesus, have been neglecting the GREAT COMISSION - thinking I was not "gifted" for it or some-such because of some bad past experiences. Make no doubt about it, they were real experiences, enough to sear anyone's heart and soul. But I had allowed the experiences and people determine my ability, not my Lord and Savior who breathed life into my body, saved my soul from damnation, preserved me in Christianity from a small child, Who upholds the universe by the word of His power. And I feel foolish for having OK-ed society and the world, with all their ills and lack of discernment and understanding, to determine who I would be under the Lordship of Christ. It's time to start sharing the Gospel, praying for opportunities, and scaring the wits out of myself by putting it all on the line.

Much more optimistic today than in a while...

Getting rid of the idolatry in the pantry....

This post is not easy to write, specifically because I feel like what I'm going to relate is so fleshly and selfish that a great amount of shame can be and often is associated with it for me.

First, the details: My mother has a friend who is a "health coach." Do I still hate this term? Yes. Do I feel like it is cliché? Yes. Was I resistant to hearing what she had to say? Absolutely. For a long time, I feel like my mom has been trying to "fix" me. As a kid, I was not into clothes (loved dress-up pretend stuff, though). And as I gained weight later in elementary school, these two problems became a crusade for my mom. So I was highly resistant, as usual, preferring to be left alone. But I agreed to go see the coach.

So I met with the friend, and my mom came along with, desirous to get on the program (again) herself. I was concerned that this was going to be more of a sales meeting than really about bettering my health, since I knew that it had to do with a meal-plan that one orders. But again, I would at least listen. And I found a few things compelling:

1. I would eventually be able to come off of the plan, after having reached my goal weight and gone through a maintenance phase.

2. It's a medically endorsed plan that is used for many people, not just "normal" overweight people (though I think I'm in the minority for being obese with very healthy vitals as of now).

3. My mom's friend is a Christian and she and her family use the meals themselves as a part of their regular diet.

4. The goals that I set are not limited to weight, but also include getting better and quality sleep and incorporating more exercise and activity into life.

5. There are a textbook and a workbook that accompany the program to add support to the program and help the participant understand the whole picture of the program.

As I was listening to this very nice lady, who was more sincere than sales-person-y, I knew that if I decided to commit myself, my body and my checkbook, to the program, that I was going to stick with it. I was not going to let this be another "I'll try it..." I wanted a "yes" or a "no" from myself because I knew and still know that all too often I make sure that the decisions I make can be easily reversed so that I can get out if things get tough. By committing, I acknowledged that if I decided to stop the program prematurely, I'd be a quitter. And I HATE that feeling and thought. It would mean that there would be a confirmed failure and I would have to acknowledge that I wanted out because it got tough. By not letting myself have an out, I knew that I could be very much compelled by my hatred of failure. My mom even suggested that I could "try it for a month..." but I said that I was either all in or not at all. I told the coach that I was going to pray about it. She said that was a good idea.

The powerful motivator: My mom has talked about losing her weight since I can remember - I think age 6 or 7 was when I started making note of it. Almost 20 years later, she's still singing the same tune. And man, am I tired of hearing it! It's like hearing someone tell you their childhood dream over and over again, and doing nothing to pursue it. Pie in the sky hopes only because there aren't any plans to make it happen. For the past six months or so, I've been praying into a thought that I've had concerning my weight. I knew that I did not want to be someone who talked and talked and talked and talked and talked for years and years and years and you get the idea about losing weight, but never making ANY progress. So, my one thought, my one decision, was that either, I was going to make the decision to change, and hold to it, or I was going to be determined to live satisfied as I was with myself at the present stage. I hadn't made a decision either way, considering the options, and seriously doing so, because, yeah, it's hard to lose weight, and yeah, the path to least resistance was doing nothing. I didn't really have a particular motivation to change, considering that I enjoy food more than none.

The change: I went into the dermatologist because my hair is thinning, and she said that we should have some blood tests done because she believed there to be a possibility of high testosterone causing it. A major lab error gave rise to two more appointments and two more rounds of blood work at two different doctor's offices. In researching possible causes of high testosterone, most illnesses included obesity as a cause or a symptom. I remember praying on my way to the next office that I knew that I needed to change, regardless of the results, if even the possibility that something that I could control was causing me to be seriously ill. The results came back all normal, even excellent, but I knew the scare had sered my conscience enough to tell me that I needed to do something. And so I committed to the Lord, made a vow, in the biblical sense (mind you, I had just finished the book of Numbers where the rules for vows are given), that I would do something, regardless of the outcome of the blood work. Though everything was normal, I had already known that that didn't matter - I said what I was going to do, and I was going to do it.

The current process: Here's where it gets fleshly beyond fleshly. The first day was great. But I was back to the classroom on Monday, and after my part-time work was finished, I had to remember that I wouldn't make a quick stop at the Chick-fil-A close to the school. I was hungry because that was my usual routine, but I was on this plan and remembered that I had one of the meal bars with me. And that was the beginning of the hard part. During the past two weeks I have had excellent days and I have had days where I've missed potatoes. I told my mom that I don't enjoy food anymore (insert image of a depressed face here), and for a couple of days, I was down, feeling restricted and bummed that I couldn't eat out or enjoy the things I normally do. But during these days, I was alarmed at how dependent I felt on food to give me enjoyment in life. Driving home from Target this evening, I had to admit the painful truth to myself that had been grating on my mind: really, above almost if not every thing, food was the only thing in life that I was drawing true satisfaction from. I would find some satisfaction here or there, mentally, and spiritually, but nothing was so powerful as the physical reaction to physical satisfaction. I cannot avoid calling this power idolatry, for the simple fact that if I find more satisfaction in what God has provided than wholly in Himself and I'm not doing even the basic things to His glory, I am in fact, worshiping something else that provides me a specific emotional response. Though I hadn't really admitted my dependence on food for satisfaction in more than my hunger or simple enjoyment, my prayer had been two weeks ago and continued this week to be that I would find my satisfaction as real in Christ as the food I physically consumed gave my body. How this even works, I've only read about in the Bible, but I know it must be a work of the Holy Spirit. I'm rather excited at the prospect of getting to know God in this way, because I do feel like it is killing a subtle but all-to-real and powerful idol in my life. I approach these next few months with great hope of what I will learn, and I hope that God uses it to His glory. And His glory is one thing that I do want to taste while leaving behind all the others!

Bam! And just like that...

...I went from no options to two. I wonder what the Lord means by taking summers to do things in me. I feel like I lived this summer more in peace than last. Emotionally, I was all over the place last summer. This summer, though I have cried, prayed, and wrestled, I've been more peaceful. I've been calmer.

This past week, I made some difficult decisions. It is NOT in my nature to rush decisions. If anything, I take as much time as possible, gathering "research," thinking, asking advice, praying, and reading the word. I had in my hand two options. And I'm still reeling from the choice I made. I'm still not sure, and peace was no where to be found, whether with one job or the other.

Factors: One job had benefits after 90 days, full-time pay, and was dealing with products that I'm interested in. The other, no benefits, part-time, and in a field that I struggled with the year before. And I still have misgivings for going with "the other." But I know that at least, I trust the Lord to make my paths straight if I acknowledge Him in my ways. My heart aches though.

What makes the situations particularly difficult? My lack of excitement. I am not enthused. I am demure. And I am, to be truthful, a mixture of thankful and depressed. I feel more lost than ever. The comforting thought that I had this summer was that if I was certified, I could teach abroad, at least, if I ever get into the mission field abroad. And in this way, I could remind myself that I would be serving the Lord in continuing my education. LOANS are a mighty issue too - something I didn't want or need more of. Even thinking about it now saddens me.

The worst part of everything, past the prospect of debt, is the thought that I might have made the wrong decision. But it helps that I have a wonderful church home and a place to live. I wish things were more "perfect" - that I was more "perfect," but I am learning contentment in all things, and what better place and time to learn that than when you sit in the least optimal situation.

Fear of change...

I haven't written in forever, but I do want to be regular. Things have been busy, and I've just finished a summer semester at UGA and one class at West Georgia.

Conclusions: I'm leaving West Georgia forever, and never going back. Reason: Professor wrote in my paper "maybe you're in the wrong profession." Pretty sure that's not how you talk to students. Even I know that.

Regarding UGA: I sat down with my adviser, and while tempted to remain in the program for the two years of full-time schooling it would take to complete the program, my heart is simply not in it.

What is so hard about the coming decision to leave the program and UGA and my masters all together is that I'm not a quitter. But, in asking myself about my level of satisfaction with what I am doing right now, I cannot in good faith, do that to myself. I LOVE tutoring and I enjoy teaching, but I HATE being a government employee. And I just don't think it's my passion. I don't want to dread my work all the time. I want to love it. And not just here and there. So, as I have continued to pray, I have thought long and hard about options. And while I could move, right now, I don't know if that's what God has for me. So, my options? I think I will continue with schooling, only I'll go back for IT professional training. I love computers and technology - anyone who is close to me knows that I am a certified nerd. Unfortunately, that certification isn't enough to be hired. But in thinking about this option, a whole new crop of fears has grown. What if I can't find a job? Can I really just quit something that I have actually taken coursework towards?

Part of the reason for the problem with quitting has more to do with not wanting to admit failure. I know that I don't want to admit that I'm not a good teacher (at least in my eyes). I'm a good friend to those kids; I'm a good sister; I'm a good listener; I'm a great talker; but I'm just overwhelmed by the "broken" that I see needs fixing. I considered counseling - again, more money, more studying. And in praying, that seemed like an option, but moving to where the program is was going to be a problem, and staying here meant a program that most likely involves theology I don't agree with. So, here I am.

It's amazing what the year has been since last August. I was electrified with a new job, new prospects, in over my head, but full in my heart. And I'm back to before where I'd been. Jobless. But God, great in His mercies, has helped me stay less emotionally charged. I've been calmer, quieter, more pensive. I feel like I've mellowed. I still laugh and I'm still boisterous, but much more settled. I find great comfort in the sovereignty of God - that He is on His throne and that nothing is a surprise to Him. I feel safer in His hands.

I'm rarely rash (with the exception of some impulse purchasing from time to time). And so prayer has been a balm this season, though it's been one of the hardest prayer seasons yet. I've asked God the same questions but then other times I've just sat in silence, speaking to Him, "You know, so I've just come here to sit in Your presence." My time in this season has been very hard in different ways from last summer; I've realized my incessant dissatisfaction with life, how it fuels my temper at home so often. I've realized that much of my perpetual sadness is at the lack of perfection in my life - the way things have gone, where I went to school, what happened in my family, being obese. The culmination of so many "things gone wrong" can send any perfectionist from the "I do it all, and it's till not enough" extreme to the "I do nothing at all because I know it's never enough." Really, all I want to do is rid the whole spectrum with the extremes. Sometimes you ride the tension because the extremes are bad. But in this case, all of it, from the balance of the center to the extremes serves nothing for me at all, except the pain of failure. I'm ready to let it go. I'm ready to quit while I'm ahead. I'm ready to be honest about not liking something I thought I'd love, and I'm okay with moving on. Teaching wasn't the plan in college, but you think about "what else" you could do, and suddenly, it's only two options or one. I want to go back to the moments where I wasn't drawn to it and I knew it wasn't where I was planning on heading. I want the girl who wanted to travel back. I want the girl who wanted to take pictures and make little films back. I want the computer person back, the one who fiddled with software and hardware all the time. And I think that's where I'm headed. I'd love to be in full-time ministry in the future, but for now, this seems a favorable option. Thanks for your prayers.

Weeding...

I'm sitting here, baking in the night, still in Chicago, leaving tomorrow for Acworth, where I will be baking even worse because there is no heat upstairs. Both places have no AC. The city is far better.

Against my better judgment, siding with the stubborn judgment, I just had to write this post. I deliberately got the Borders coupon, that was in my email, written down so that I could purchase Beth Moore's new book, So Long, Insecurity. Chief of my weakness as a young woman is this one, which, besides by my wild, internalized emotional life, is evidenced through the physical representation of an overweight body. Who could resist a title like that?

And I began reading it tonight. Late (which is stupid, since I have to get up early tomorrow to start my journey home). But something that was very real to me, which I have known about for going on 6 or 7 years was, again, brought to my attention by the book. Now, so much of it is stating the obvious for me (the beginning part of the book, that is), but none so real as the beginning portion about relationships causing insecurity. God broke me of a compulsive plate-clearing habit that I had due to social anxiety. Every time I would go out with friends to eat, I would rapidly eat, which would neutralize the acid churning in my stomach. This had become so habitual, so subtle, that I did not notice it until it was gone when God healed me of MAJOR anxiety issues (shortness of breath, loss of appetite [what happens when the anxiety is to much and the acid makes me nauseated], heart palpitations, compulsive social eating [I say this because the other eating is still there]) February 15, 2009. But anxiety continues in a different way...I lost a lot of fear then, but not all of it.

When I was reading the book tonight, I prayed beforehand that God would let me feel it. I prayed that He would let it hit me like I needed it. And for whatever reason, I began thinking why so much of my insecurity has to do with male relationships, and why I feel like my feelings in all relationships are illegitimate (if someone hurts my feelings, I won't confront them because I think they will stop being my friend and that I "deserve" (in a way) to have hurt feelings). And I couldn't help but think about my dad. But why? I also feel like, now, brace yourselves, I'm gonna be completely transparent here, why has my sexual desire felt so out of control for so long? This is something that I am silent on, but I need to address it here to convey the very imperative things I'm beginning to realize.

I thought about my dad...and my eyes just opened wide. I'm going to attempt to articulate it with clarity, something I'm not very good at. I thought about my mom and my dad. And I thought about the kind of person my dad was, and something just wasn't right. I kept thinking, something with guys and sexual desire (don't worry, this is not headed where some may think it is) and feeling like my feelings don't matter has to do with my dad. Then it clicked. I ALWAYS knew. I always knew that my dad was just physical. What I mean by that, is that I feel like his interactions with my mom (and consequently us) were of a physical presence, physical affection and that was all he was here for - that's all he could afford us, that's all he could offer. And it occurred to me that I felt used in a way, that he wanted credit just for physically being there, not emotional, not relational, not mental. And, I think when I saw this, I really felt like he did not love my mom. I think he didn't really know how to. But, I think that he didn't. And I think that's why I felt like I was competing for his attention. I recognized (without knowing it as a kid), that I wanted his attention and that it was a competition. Not against anyone, perhaps against his own person. But I felt inferior and undeserving because I lost the competition. And I think I translated that into a monster that I am having to wrestle.

What's the monster? I think it was the way that I coped, that really damaged my relationship with my mom, and damaged me as a person. I think I am unnaturally like my father. I know that growing up, I idolized him (which, I think my mom did, too, a learned trait, maybe). I believe I found him superior to myself - I think he even treated himself that way in relation to my mom, and while identifying with my same sex parent, I think I borrowed that identity from her. At the same time, I wanted to be like my idol. So I think I also borrowed his identity of being superior, so far as to feeling superior to her, the way I think he felt. I never let go of the inferiority (which I think is the reason why I am fearful in friendships - dad-relationships are so powerful, and I think it made me conscientious, more than the rejections I faced in school, of getting hurt and because my feelings didn't matter to him, they didn't matter at all), but I think I began to reject my mom. I've been trying to figure out some of my rebellion towards her, coming up dry. Some of the mother-daughter hurts, though very strong and real, just could not explain something I felt to be ingrained. I think I identified with my dad's personality and took on the trait of "feeling superior" to my mom (and even people like her). He would confide in me the frustrations he had with her, and being so much like him in thought and speech, I would absorb this and conform my behavior to fit this very bad habit. And I did as my idol did.

The profound effect of this was that I did not respect my mom. And I still struggle with this, in truth. It's not that there are not legitimate things that dinged that respect on their own, but the fuel had kept the fire stoked more than what simple forgiveness would quench. But I also felt my dad ignoring me, like I feel he did her. And I think even his coping mechanism for people hurting him is built to seem impenetrable. That I adopted, too, to the point where I did not cry and did not feel allowed to say that I was hurt or want to admit that I was - that would be weakness (and it WAS weakness to pretend to be okay because it was born out of fear). But I was getting hurt and looking stoic all the same. And when I couldn't take it anymore, I exploded. Really, screaming, crying fits of brokenness that just flooded from the suppression of the pain. And my mom did not handle these well - or know how to handle them at all. At that point, I don't even think she was on the healing bend, it was more like all of us were managing our pain, rather than getting better at healing it.

Back to the physical part of this discussion. I think I was competing for my dad's emotions, and he was physical presence. I wanted the warmth (and security) of that attention. I did not get it. He could not give it. And I think I recognized that my mom wasn't getting it either, though I couldn't articulate it at the time, and my mom was probably focused on other things too. I think that's why I shut up emotionally. It was hurting to want that, and not get it. And I wasn't learning what it was or ought to be, I was coping with the absence. And I was becoming the same sort of person. To this day, just being in the physical presence of a friend can fill my bucket some of the way - I'm functional even in the dysfunction. But something still wasn't and isn't right. I can still leave and shut people out of my life, shutting out the pain of the severance and moving on. I choke it out. But doing that has created other problems.

What is the greatest form of intimacy? In earthly terms, sex. Without a doubt. Not only do people understand this, it is also communicated in many ways through the Bible as well as parents who are trying to educate their kids. I think for me, for what ever healthy desire I do have, has been turned into a problem due to dramatic increase that I am more than uncomfortable with. I think it has to do with deprivation of emotional intimacy. I think because I've just become physical, like my dad, physically here, there, present, doing, being, and because I'm underdeveloped in emotional health and relationships, the expression of intimacy for someone who is basically physical is reduced to physical intimacy. As if that's the only way to get to any basic emotions. Though that's an oversimplification, it makes way too much sense to someone like me whose trying to navigate the waters of what the mess is going on in this screwed up brain of mine and why I feel like desires I want to channel into marriage are out of control now. I feel like I can't emotionally connect to people, and that is throwing everything into a shambles. But I'm feeling better already by working this out in my head.

I mentioned male relationships before. I'm telling you, kids know what they cannot know but don't know it until they really know it later. In realizing this tonight, I can tell you that the source of much anger was exposed. Tears just streamed out of my eyes with a few sobs, as I was much more upset, in all this epiphany, in the treatment of my mom, who did love with real emotions. And therein was the source of anger and pain, the injustice of the poor reciprocation of that. The acknowledgement of what was missing, the disparity of love that I witnessed - I feel like my dad used us in a way, and that we were merely in earnest (and innocent) in our desires, whether we were aware of what was missing or not - came barreling to my attention with full-force emotion, and I could feel my heart pounding with the physical response to that reality. And, I think the injustice, while I am not a psychologist, has subconsciously impacted the way I react to male relationships. I view men very often as cold, selfish, and, what a shock, unfeeling, thinking only of themselves and what's in it for them. And while I have evidence that would back up a conscious suspiciousness, like before, it cannot account for what I feel to be embedded and too strong for healthy functioning. For this reason, around guys, I become keenly self-conscious and switch to competition mode (though I rarely act on it, if ever, but the gears are turning, and often, for all the suppression of it, the stifling turns to non-stop talking). At the same time, the feeling that I have of inferiority (that I can NOW identify), low self-worth, and then anger about "being made to feel that way" [though, this is my perception that's making me a victim, not men in general] leaves me with dissatisfaction after interacting. (Poor dudes, they have NO IDEA that all this CRAZY is running through my mind...it's about the only running I do). All this is ascribed to them in the nut-house known as Erin. It's why it's such a terrible distraction - regardless of attraction - for me to interact with single men. But it makes so much sense.

To close this long post, I should state that these are initial thoughts. They are not yet permanent truths or understandings because I don't feel like all of the psychobabble has evaporated off of them yet. But this is how the process normally goes before God says a single sentence in my Spirit, and I am completely FREED of something huge. I usually understand or get my thoughts out in writing, trying to make sense of things (and getting somewhat close), then God in His mercy makes an incredible clearing and understanding of things, and it's as if they are laid to rest.

A final note:

Though I have written about my dad here, I do not feel that he consciously intended to do me or my mom wrong in the early years at all. In fact, I feel no bitterness in writing this, only sadness, and perhaps understanding for why he made the choices he did later, however unjustifiable - that he, himself, has a lot of problems with emotional connection and coping in a healthy way with what he is feeling. Though sin is present and we commit it, though it is wrong for us to believe that we are above anyone else, it cannot and never should be denied that all mankind experiences pain that affects them in profound ways at crucial times, and that this can spell disaster for generations to come through multiplied sinning. My goal here is to understand the "whys" as they relate to my unhealthy existence on God's earth and to kill the sin in my own life with as much speed as my submission to God's will and empowering of the Holy Spirit can muster. I cannot (and will not) blame my parents for any shortcomings that exposed propensities for sinning in my own flesh that I walked into. The exposure of them is not sin, the walking into them is. Please know that I love both of my parents very much. My desire is for insight, acknowledgement, forgiveness and healing. All this brought to you by the power of a Holy God of mercy, truth, and love.

Sweltering in the Windy City...

Chicago - besides being absolutely partial and biased (who isn't? be real), I know Chicago to be one of the greatest cities on the earth - definitely in the top five. While I probably wouldn't live in a city (watch God have me go to a city somewhere to live forever), this is one that I could imagine myself living in.

Now, for the fun part. You may or may not have heard of the very common "Nina." Often times, I will imitate this wild woman's voice, invoking Puerto Ricans (and a dose of "crazy") from my magnificent and mad ancestry. There is a demon around every bush, a warning for every common practice, and a "be caarfool" with every departure. Common phrases include "¡Que barbaridad!" (which literally means "What barbarity!" but in common slang, it means "How awful!" or "What a shame"). She can be heard saying it after every bit of depressing news, shocking news...or good news... Honestly, I think the market for bad news lives with fussy grandmothers who must warn you that going into the fence- in, gated backyard at twilight could spell "baad nyews" for you....

¡Imáginate! Is another expression for "can you believe it (that awfulness)" "imagine that (awful thing)!" Often said to herself, expressing her appall at people who aren't moral, aren't wise, and simply, don't know much. By all accounts she is perhaps the wisest woman you'd meet mixed with a dose of silly. Her new phrase is, "Loord, eets so hard to be homble" which she says to herself as she cleans the kitchen counters for the 14th time in the morning...

Yesterday (Tuesday, but Wednesday early am) I came home from my other aunt's house very late (2:25 am, but I came in at 3:00 because it took me 35 minutes to find a parking space), and there she was, waiting... she could have called, she has my phone number, she new I was an hour and 15 minutes away, so I might stay the night... and she came to unlock the back gate (though I had a key), and her speech began.

Unlike our current president, my grandmother does not mince words (or curse at me, though if she wanted to "kick my ass" she could), but rather says "I don't know about Atlanta, but in Cheecago, you can't come in late..." then my favorite phrase, of all of the phrases! "Nevehr in my life I come home thees late at 3 in da morneen." "Never in my life" has become my favorite cliché phrases, because it indicates that, by virtue of never having done it, she has beat me in the competition of not doing it, and is therefore, better. I said nothing (chuckling to myself, because in Athens, I must have come home more than three months worth of days, past 3 am in the morning, having done something like study, written a paper, gone to karaoke, or just sat up talking to a friend). I could have said "Never in my life have I fallen in love with a Mexican poet, married him at 16, and had my first kid at 17..." and won the Stanley Cup of "never doing" but, that might not be justified as "better" (because Mexican poets are alluring and children are a blessing), and it was 3 am, and she is my funny grandma, and I was, by far, more ill-humored about parking than I could ever be at my concerned grandma. I thought to call, but I thought she'd be asleep (I had keys to the house!!!).

Then, today, as I was telling her that I would leave tomorrow (which is now), Thursday, she said, "Why?!? Why you need to go tomoorow?" And I was surprised... she sounded like she was going to argue me out of it. DANGER! DANGER! So I backed off a little about the leaving. When a 4'9" Puerto Rican who raised 5 kids alone wants to argue you out of your decision, just say "sure." And now, I begin the scheming of escaping from Chi-town. It will be tricky, but I'll make sure to get my aunt (whose house I've called Home Base for the week) to talk sense.

Now I'm stuck in a favorite city to be stuck in... planning my escape for "sometime-o-clock" Thursday. I'll be downloading more sermons to listen to in the morning for the drive. Life is good, and it's been great to be welcomed, fed, entertained, listened to, left alone, and myself. I feel like I've had an actual vacation for once in a long time. I'm glad it was just me that came up. My heart is glad.

Traveling...

In scouring what I want to do and who I want to be, my dream is to travel. And take photographs of beautiful places. Sometimes I think I want to be famous. I love those Globe Trekker videos so much - I love the history, the destinations, everything. I like the travel channel. But I find it hard to watch when I'm here an someone else is there.

A friend was selected for an amazing internship - and she's simply an amazing person herself, but I find myself so jealous! :) She's living a dream I want to be in! But it gets me thinking, how can I get out there, traveling? I thought about being a flight attendant for the benefits. I remember when I was hired as a teacher, thinking 4 months in, how did I get here? Was this what I wanted? And I thought, no, this wasn't the plan - I was just gonna be a flight attendant so I could travel. I wanted to purchase an expensive camera so I could take the shots I wanted.

But those dreams don't pay the bills. And another tug on my heart was full-time ministry. Yeah, that doesn't pay the bills either. But it's so hard with dreams on delay. I think, lately, I've been needing to do some good old-fashioned praying. I've read and I've listened to sermons, but I think I need to get in the prayer closet and pray. I need the glimmer of hope and I want to live life for Jesus, and I don't think that means being depressed all the time (unless you are the prophet Jeremiah).

Beauty for ashes...

It was a hard week. And I will cry tomorrow, though it will be in the car, where no one can see and only the 2 people who read this blog will know. :) The career fair, in my opinion, was a bust. The only available Spanish jobs are those of my colleagues at other schools who lost their positions - and they were there too. Both of them. It was hard to look at the long list of openings at my school and the line of people, knowing there was no place for me. It makes me said remembering it even now. But there is a silver lining - the possibility of teaching ESOL - English Speakers of Other Lanugages. Or ESL, English as a Second Language. I know the district person through another connection, so who knows, but I'm simply going to be patient. My problem is not fighting for what I need, it's waiting for it.

That being said, however hard and emotionally challenging this past week has been, and this current one is, God's graciousness has shown through in another, unrelated, but liberating and soothing way.

Saturday, I went out for a walk in one of those abandoned neighborhood things in Paulding - really, two of them. The first was too close to noise, but I walked, in the sun, with the clouds providing some reprieve every few minutes. There was a wonderful breeze despite the humidity. And as I walked, I intended to pray, but I found myself telling the Lord simply, "Here I am." I didn't even verbalize my prayers or think straight thoughts. I was just quiet. I thought, why so many words? He knows what's going on because it was sifted through His hands. And so, there I was, feeling like a child because I knew that I had underlying frustration that I couldn't solve my own problem, and I wanted an answer right there. I'm so much about solutions that, sometimes, my drive for their arrival precludes the lessons I might gain in the waiting, or even feeling anything pleasant at all. So I walked, thanking God for the creation that he had made, the scents, the quiet, the clouds, the beautiful things. I went back to the car. Then to the next neighborhood.

I drove around a bit, looking for a neighborhood with underdevelopment issues - it took me a bit, but I ended up in Edenwood. It had a nice secluded area, and it was pretty. I sat down and read my Bible. I read about the Israelites seeking passage through cities and all the opposition they faced. How God communicated. How they had waited, then how God began to send them where they needed to go. I love reading that history. It's something that feels stabilizing to my heart. And I read in Isaiah about how sin separates us from God - and I was wondering if there were many, many things I wasn't asking forgiveness for - if something was causing distance. So I prayed that scary prayer - that one where you ask God to reveal your sin to you. Man, I know I hate to know how awful I am. But I can't get better if I don't acknowledge what's wrong. Well people do not need a doctor. Sick people do. So I prayed that too.

Then I left. The night before, I had enjoyed time with precious friends from church whose son was graduating. It was something very meaningful for them and for all of us who were graciously allowed to participate in celebrating. I love these times in the summer, but more than that, I love sitting with the women who are my mom's age and ten years younger. Since many people from our church were there, I got some special time to sit and chat with different ladies. I like listening to their stories, hearing their advice, taking in their encouragement, laughing. I just love gleaning from them. And there is something very healing for me in talking about the difficulty of what's going on with my job.

Through all the emotional hardship, as I have been getting ready here and there, this and that, the daily routine of doing it has ministered to me in the strangest way. This weekend, my overwhelming heart feeling as I looked in the mirror was beautiful. It's weird for me to talk about beauty. I feel it's such a personal issue and so easily damaged that I rarely address it; it feels like an Achilles' heel. I don't want to talk about it because for so long, I wanted to be above it and feel like I've lived my entire life battling to convince myself that I am. I don't know exactly why, but part of it has to do that as an overachiever, I took EVERY lesson and extrapolated it to the extreme: I felt like I had been taught that beauty isn't everything, it's not good to brag (so I didn't tell myself I was beautiful, or really pay myself the compliment of even simple, honest observation if it were something positive; it's bad to think well of oneself). Taking all that to heart, I muted that part of my life. But I am a young woman, much as I think I am above the natural inclinations to feel what many, if not all, women feel: beautiful, needed, wanted, thought of, not forgotten, valued, respected, loved. You can only stifle those things for so long. I have no idea where I got this notion that I need to be "stronger" than my needs. Why is there such a drive to be self-sufficient? Why is there a drive to feel like I need no one, or healing or leading?

Anyway, I digress. This weekend, I felt pretty, and the feeling really hasn't gone away as I've gotten ready in the mornings, looked in the mirror. It was today that it occurred to me that it's been a mood-lifter during this time. And it's been coupled with a peace and a security that I really haven't ever known. But I feel calm. I feel like the calm of the Proverbs 31 woman - the quietness of spirit - falls over me in the alone moments, the getting ready moments, the "just breathe" moments. I think that God is gently encouraging my personal femininity, which is strange to me because it's not like how I thought I might be. I don't feel like the process is forcing me into a mold that isn't recognizable to myself, but it's uniquely and comfortably "myself." And it's comforting, rather than alarming, soothing rather than creating anxiety. And I simply feel calmly good about it. Despite the turmoil going on around me with my dad, my job, and my small life, the peace of "now" has helped me to calm down and feel better about who God is calling me to be. I'm relieved to find that I can recognize that person to be me, and not someone I'd be pretending to be. God is merciful.

I am the chicken on the vane...

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....that's the sound of the numbness; it's the sound of plans dissolving. You can't hear anything beyond it in the moment. Shock is simply the raining thought, you could burst into tears, but your simply, purely shocked. So pure is the feeling, you can't feel anything for a few moments, can't hear, can't taste. It's just...there.

And I lost my job - no position at the school AT ALL. No option. I think I was shocked because the picture was painted that it would be there. And that I would be back. And I was getting used to it - to improving, to learning from the first year. And then, it was all shattered yesterday. No position at THIS school - after the so much hope was given, groundwork laid, and then the rug was pulled out. Nonchalantly, unexpectedly, heartbreakingly pulled.

I cried - I was shocked. Just thinking that it was safe, and that was it, I think the worst part was allowing myself to get used to the idea. Placing my heart on the line - I never do that, I'm always cautiously negative, planning on the worst and stifling hope. I'm rarely wrong. RARELY. And this occasion, I let myself be wrong; I thought I would be wrong, and I was burned. I could be jaded, but I won't be. I'll just make sure that I express my sadness, and continue on.

I spoke to my mom, who I told that what the hardest part, in all of it, is the emotions. I cannot handle the extreme emotions I've been experiencing. But now, I don't even know what or where. Do I continue in education? Do I change? Do I do what's safe? Do I do what is expected? Do I change directions entirely? As bad as I think I am at teaching, my perception isn't the same as some of my colleagues, and I have cultivated a genuine, amicable relationship with my students. And it's hard to leave them. It's hard to leave the wonderful colleagues. And that is mixed with a sense of betrayal by my employer, the county.

I feel like the chicken on the weather vane, gently pushed into some direction or violently beaten about in a storm. I feel like I've been through many violent storms, and only worse is to come. The worst to deal with is the "what?" questions. "What is the Lord trying to teach me?" "What did I do wrong?" "What am I supposed to do?" Now, I know Hebrews well, and I think of the discipline that the believers are told about - that type that's not correction for wrongdoing, but the type that means you are being called to a higher standard because you are called to something different and, well, more. But it's beating me up. We resist sin, and we are to resist to the point of death - now that, wow. Imagine dying before you would tell a lie, because you hate sin so much - that's not quite what the writer of Hebrews is talking about, but it got me thinking about how much we are to resist sin, and to live above worldliness.

To my advantage in my predicament is my singleness. My disadvantage? Debt - school loans. So, maybe the question I should ask myself is, if I had no debt, what would I choose to do? I jumped into it immediately after high school, after the divorce of my parents. It's hard for me to imagine life without the albatross. But, if I had no chains, what would I pursue? And I don't know. It runs so deep as to the point where I feel guilty to pursue the "what I want" because I feel like I have been taught that "what I want" runs perfectly contradictory to "what God wants." But we have propencities, desires, abilities, strengths for a purpose, don't we?

The only thing that I really could think the past month was "ugh, I don't wanna think" because, well, all this comes spilling out...I'm drowning in it.

So what's the plan? I don't know. I don't want to step out over and over again, rejected from this job, dead end here, after all of the work. I went to college, I got the degree. What is going on from here on out? Well, for now, here's the plan:

1. I am dropping one summer graduate course from UGA - the one that starts the 4th - I need to rest and not fill up my schedule immediately, like I usually do.
2. I'm thinking I'm going to drop my masters and withdraw from UGA after the summer; tuition is going to increase, and if I don't want to continue my education in educational theory (which is bunk because that's NOT what happens in a classroom), then why am I paying interest on it? I'd rather study more Spanish, even a different language, and really pursue something that keeps my interest.
3. I will go ahead and go to the rehiring fair for the county, at least to see what's there; I am at a disadvantage because my certificate is not clear, renewable; it is provisional, and I am not considered highly qualified by NCLB.
4. Find any well-paying job that will help me eradicate the debt; I'd like to get married one day debt-free, but I am the textbook case of single-girl-with-high-debt. That is my demographic, and I want out.
5. Pray. Pray again. Call out. Seek, and be patient. I'm finding that I'm scared and sad because I really don't trust God - I didn't realize how much I attribute my earthly father's bad characteristics to my Heavenly Father's character. I didn't think I did, but I'm finding that I'm riddled from anxiety because I feel like God is going to knock the wind out of me worse than I have ever imagined. And that He is going to put me into the position of toughing it out. It's something that He will have to break me of.

During this time, please pray that the Lord remind me as He reminded the Israelites that He brought them out of the Land of Egypt into the land He promised their fathers. Please pray that I would remember that faith is credited as righteousness. Please pray I don't get discouraged and depressed. Please pray that I exercise and get out, instead of moping and crying because I'm so worn down and stressed. And, please pray.

Turning away from the past...

Today, I said goodbye to the past. But I wonder if my physical action of doing it will help the emotional and mental action. I held on to old notes from high school - it was work, no doubt. That's what's hard to part with - work - hours worth of notes, physical representations of regrets, and physical representations of successes. But I put it all in the trash. I'm tired of looking back, regretting, being strapped to it, wondering what "should have been," all the depression of it. I want new. I need new. I need different. I need to be different. I kept the language stuff from Spanish and Latin - the stuff that really interested me. I'm tired of forcing myself to be well-rounded into liking everything. I enjoyed the other subjects and was even good at them, but I'm okay with saying goodbye. And I like saying goodbye to the feeling "this could come in handy someday..." Goodbye "could." I'm not running the stats of keeping the trash around. It's not eternal. Only I am.

I thought of the element of my personality I'd like to trade - probabilities, possibilities, chances, maybes, what-ifs. I just want them gone. I want a plan. I want a decision. But I am the architect - I'm the one that looks at the solutions, weighs them, decides, but takes a long time to do so. And sometimes, those things get dusty! Those blueprints get old...new technologies are out there, the old won't do. And with so many new options, I'm ready to purge the old ones, no matter how much work they had been. All those unfinished things, I'm forgetting them, getting rid of them, and moving on. Perhaps the best word for it is "fed up." It's funny - now I feel "fired up" - I do feel different. For so long, being cautious is what I was about, but now, I just feel like that is a mold that I was squished into. Don't throw that away, it could be useful; you'll get back to it; you'll finish that; you might make a big mistake if you do that. No, I won't finish it, and, I'm fine with not finishing it; well, I've already made mistakes, and I'm forsaking that word "might." Hang the regret of it, I'm tired of living in the past. I'm thankful for learning to be in that mold though - I think it's made me wise when I would otherwise be extremely foolish. The pendulum did swing too far, though, and I think it's time to come back to the delicate balance. It's time to take risks, it's time to exercise discipline and feel like I can steward myself and my life again, on behalf of God, empowered by the Holy Spirit. It'll be weird not feeling like I am out of control.

I'm tired of feeling guilty for not doing or following what I feel a culture, that is not surrendered to Jesus, expects of me. I'm tired, really, of not being me. This is such a liberating notion to me that it makes me feel like I really have the freedom in Christ to move on, to forsake the shame, and to bear the cross. I can't say how much regret has held my life in it's squeezing grasp, and it's not all gone, but I am ready to be healed of that. I'm feeling as if that's the door to growing up, letting go, maturing, and finally feeling like I know myself better, and I'm okay with who I really am under all the layers of misidentity and scarring, from others, but worse, from myself.

Best thought of the day - that none of it is eternal. The physical stuff isn't - what to rejoice in? It NEVER goes to waste! All of that past, every bit, thankfully, is remembered by the Lord, acknowledged by him, forgiven where needed, rewarded where needed, healed where needed, exalted where needed, redeemed where needed. These tiny little things He remembers. Praise Him for sovereignty! Praise Him for justice! Praise Him that just the improving knowledge of Who He is and how He is affords freedom to the bound. I'm so very in debt to Him, and that's the only place I want to be.

New things...

Much is on my heart and mind right now. I'm feeling kinda lost. I feel like I'm making lots of wrong decisions, but I don't even know what the right ones are. I wish I had some reassurances. But I am continuing in prayer. I thought I'd make this post lighter.

2 Things I am learning about myself:

1. I'm an extrovert.

2. I'm super sensitive.

Okay - in middle school, on the myers-briggs I was an introvert - anyone that tested for personality mapping, that's what I got. But I'm finding that I'm not really. I wrote in an earlier post that I thought I might be - but rejection - lots of it - changes a person; by that time, most of the damage was done. I think I was hurt pretty badly, and I think I just didn't want to go there with people anymore. I bailed. So for a long time, I did not like people. AT ALL. I didn't want to engage, I wanted to be left alone. Until God did some real emotional healing in my life, I really had pigeon-holed myself into the role of "outsider" whenever I was in large groups of people. But the truth is, I like being the entertainer - I like chit-chat - I like making people laugh - I like telling stories. I will almost always bail on individual things to go hang out with people if I am asked. I ALWAYS want to tag along. Part of that goes to my need for quality time. But I am finding that I want to be near activity. I can be alone, sure, but usually, I am listening to the radio, sermons, movies. I'm finding that I'm more social than I really cared to admit.

It's no wonder that I feel like I live within a dichotomy in my mind - part of me still is reluctant to engage because my heart is rather tender. My feelings are readily hurt. I think it's the people with the most tender hearts that can only get the hardest ones - I think wounds go deep, and to barricade from that level of pain, I think when people who are sensitive really get wounded, they become rocks, bitter, hard, and ugly. Softening that hardness is perhaps one of the most challenging tasks to do; in my personal opinion, I think that it is only by means of a very personal realization by Christ's power that really heals that nastiness. It was that way in my case. And I'm inclined to believe that the bitterest person can become the most loving and affectionate if healed of those deep wounds.

For me, in the present moment, I'm still scared of risking some things. There are some betrayals that are still very fresh. And it hurts. And it makes me think of Jesus. And then I cry because I do that to Jesus. And I am just as guilty, not less, because sin begets sin. I don't want to be the source of that kind of affliction for anyone, and it bugs me to no end that I commit the same sin committed against me. Part of me feels guilty for feeling hurt. And my home was a home where there was little compassion for emotional pain, and there were times where I was told I wasn't allowed to be upset, so I stifled many emotions and learned not to cry. So now, when feeling upset, I feel like I have deserved the treatment that got me upset. Part of me is still bound to that "do not cry" so I almost feel as if it's wrong to feel sad about being hurt.

Bondage sucks. So many imposed perceptions and graceless judgments can really hound people who are easily guilted. I attribute this to tenderness because I figure, if you can easily feel, you can easily feel negatively. It's prayer that gets me through. And God is so merciful. The part of me that I want back so badly, the part that I had when I was a kid, was my readily friendliness and my desire to pursue friendship with people. After being turned down so many times, eventually you stop calling, and you just wait for people to want a relationship with you. And that can be equally if not more depressing. It's at those moments, those depressing ones, that I realize the person who I need to rely upon is Jesus. I'm dependent on Him to meet my need, because if I rely on people for those ups, I'll be let down eventually. But more importantly, I need to show my deference and reliance on him. Getting so upset about hurts, and people-this, and people-that can expose an underlying sin of idolatry for the admiration of men. And I am not about to excuse myself and say in my case there is no sin. I believe in the deceitfulness of the heart - of my own. That there are things that I don't want to admit, that there are things that I enjoy more than God, and that I cannot be trusted even by myself. So even when I am healed, there is still an element of my own personal repentance when it comes to things like this. And I can only say that the way that God deals with us by the power of the Holy Spirit through Christ Jesus is nothing shy of remarkable. The forgiveness of sin and the power of emotional healing at the same time really is something God-sized powerful. I've never learned more in my life than when God has been my Teacher.

Drowning in the Sea of Options

I'm someone who looooooooves options. I like having a choice - I love researching the options to make the best decision. But now, I'm in a place where "best" is a hard-to-place label at, well, best.

What do you mean, O Confusing One? I mean that I have TOO many. And I'm kind of laughing right now because for people who like options, normally, our response is "there are NEVER too many." The major problem that I am running into is that I can't tell the future. If I could just solve this problem, we'd be good - I could way the stats of "best decision" and go.

Why do I have options? Well, formally, officially, I no longer have a teaching position. There's a dark side to the part of me that doesn't want to quit - part of me also probably wouldn't be brave enough to leave, even though I might not like the profession, because the money does create a sense of security. I mean to say that if I were offered a contract, I would continue. It would be unwise to walk out on a guaranteed position, no matter the difficulty or the infeasability of continuing my adult education at the same time.

What's convenient about my non-renewal is that I have no choice but to at least start planning for elsewhere. What's convenient is that my "no" is said for me. It's just like any convenient excuse - where you wouldn't say something, though you might be dying to, but all of a sudden, something happens, and the message you wanted to convey is conveyed without you getting your hands dirty.

That's to say, I don't want to leave - but getting my certification would be cheaper if I did it all at one school and got my masters as well. And I'm enrolled at two universities. I can't imagine staying two years in a program without getting my higher level degree. But I think it's also stupid for me to student teach if I go full time. And what if education doesn't pick up for YEARS? I dunno...I have major decisions to make.

At this point, I reflect on my true dream - full-time ministry and travel. I know that I want to be in vocational ministry. I felt like God said to me when I interned for a year at a college ministry that my job was to be the iron that sharpens iron. It wasn't evangelism or healing or such. But doesn't this imply teaching? Maybe I heard wrong. I wouldn't put it past myself.

I'm kind of at a loss, again. Seminary? Graduate school? What am I doing??? Who does He want me to be??? What should I order at Starbucks??? (Okay, not that one...) But joking aside, whatever indecision lies at the heart of me is frustrating - what's the plan? Why do I feel like I am on someone else's timeframe and not my own?

Perhaps my problem lies where it always seems to lurk...at the beginning. Fräulein Maria told the Von Trapp kids, "Let's start at the very beginning...it's a very good place to start". Yeah, well if you don't know how to or what the start is or what you should start, that song is rather depressing (not really, but I will take issue with the good fräulein later). The mechanics of WHERE to start kill me...but I think I might list the things that I like in life. Maybe that will prove to be of some inspiration.

Worst in me...

I went into work today wondering at how my job brings out the worst in me. I have had all of my impatience exposed, yelled with no results, and feel like I have accomplished nothing (though some things have been accomplished). And I feel sad and like a failure.

It made me ask the question: is it best to work at a place where you are challenged to modify your character, feeling like the worst of you is being smushed out, or is it better to work where your strengths shine, your weaknesses are minimized and you love it all the time? I know that God has his purposes - and there's nothing so depressing as totally tanking at a job you thought you'd be good at. As a tutor, I have ridiculous patience. As a teacher, I have little to none. With the prospect of losing my job, I don't want to lose it feeling like I don't have another chance to try it out again, applying what I have learned and starting over. I hate feeling like a quitter. I DON'T WANT TO GIVE UP. But the very great chasm of public education is saddening.

I want to believe that God is so big that each and every one of my students can make it in the same semester, in the same year. But there is so much sin in our world - what has happened to my students in their home life, at school, with friends, on the field - there's so much damage - so many things were done wrong. So much is irreversible. But I BELIEVE that God is merciful and good. I wish I had prayed more. I wish I had been more vigilant about being patient. I wish I had not been so short tempered. I wish I had loved it all as much as I thought I would. I wish I could have fixed what was broken in their lives. I wish I could have made them want to learn. I wish I could have made them want to be fixed. I wish they would have eyes for seeing. I wish they would have had ears for hearing. I wish they would have known and believed that I pulled for them. I wish they had known that I bent over backwards trying to get them through. I wish...I wish...I wish. I wonder at the amazing patience of the Lord through my stubbornness, my own obstinate nature, my own selfishness, my unwillingness to learn. And I wonder at how I can make Christ's behavior, attitude, love, correction, patience, peace, gentleness, self-control my own.

If I have trouble being a sinner teaching sinners, I cannot imagine what God feels -the mix of emotions all in perfect balance, perfect expression, perfect harmony. I am at a loss for comprehension. But when I allow God to invade the complaints my brain, I am humbled, and simply without words but for the praise for Him who knew me when I was yet a sinner. All I can do is admit that I am so out of my element, so completely inept, so ill-prepared, and so poorly wired that I am utterly reliant on God. My desperation is beyond even what I have known. It's all in a shambles. I just need a rescuer...a Savior.

Lots of Repentance...

A couple of nights ago, the lows started to strike me - just feeling down, sad, etc. In short, I was feeling like many, many things were wrong in my life. And they are. And I just was on my knees, with some tears. And I started praying for my own repentance.

I decided after I prayed to write down things in my journal - and I feel like I had a real breakthrough. There are four areas where I simply want to repent - in the caring of my body as the Holy Temple, in the caring of my household chores, in managing my finances, and in meeting with the Lord on an EXTREMELY regular daily basis. I began writing about why I hadn't addressed this with the Lord, knowing that these had been regular, habitual problems.

And as I was writing, I knew why. I thought they were selfish things to ask for/ ask for help for. That may sound crazy, but I felt like asking for them would be focusing on me, and I was so under the pressure to not ask for those things - and they are VERY important to the individual health of a person. But for that reason - that they specifically relate to me - I found it not right to ask. I often feel terrible for asking - I feel like a burden, but really, I am burning inside to be reached out to. And that's hard, because people DO treat people like burdens. Then they say they are willing to help and go the extra mile. And the talking out of two sides of the mouth drives a person like me nuts.

I can attribute this to the passive aggression that still lingers in the fringe of my person - much of it was eradicated by the first experiential event that God did in my life for me alone. But I've been treating God like I treat most people - lack of intimacy, lack of really letting Him (and even myself) know the real burdens and the real problems in my heart, hiding behind the guise of it being a selfish thing to admit or seek help for. But the reality is something much more painful... it's more along the lines of not feeling like I am allowed to ask, along the lines of "what bothers me the most and what needs to be fixed the most desperately" is not worthy of voicing and seeking remedy. But it's made me out of control, especially emotionally. I am having to confront the fact that I don't even open up with God, I'm so far under a bondage of "can't ask because it's selfish", but then selfishness, because it's not so easily silenced, seeps out in other ways... I wouldn't put it past me to credit myself with caring for others because I stifle the most important part of myself - how I'm really feeling. And it does feel VERY good for me to serve when I do serve (though I often feel like people don't want me in their lives, to tell the truth). So I really do receive a benefit since it's not quite a sacrifice of time or effort - I feel built to do it. But I do stifle the emotions. Where I get this, I have no clue. My mom isn't like that - not nearly. I think my dad might be - but when you are like that, your tendency is to gossip because you can't stifle the emotions forever. But you won't talk to the person directly. DANGER. So, I am starting with this very small, but important, step of repenting for how bad I've let it get. I'm asking boldly, approaching the throne of grace with boldness, anticipating that the Lord will meet me with grace as I serve Him in faith through obedience. It goes so far against the grain of my original fallen thought, that I think this will be a longer process, but I welcome it. I need the help.

Waiting: a non-guide for the impatient...

How Not to Wait
By: Erin Milligan

1. Wonder "what if" over the same situation over and over again, with the same variables over and over again, running the same stats, playing the same game over and over again, learning no new information, and simply doing it all...over and over again.

2. Ask for prayer...again...again...and...again...gaining no new information, simply reminding yourself that God is the same, now, again, forever, realizing that you might as well wait because that's what God wants you to do because your deal isn't fearing the future, is more like knowing it now so that your busy gears can start turning again because you don't know how to stop the madness of the mathematics of your mind from mulling over minutiae.

3. Get yourself LOTS of down time where you aren't busy and you can just have imaginary conversations, make imaginary "what if" plans, and waste very REAL time when you could be cleaning your room (which should probably be featured on the TLC show "Hoarders" because it's just that much a mess) or you could be grading that mountain of papers, or learning how to bake a Chocolate flan that you saw the really cute little Mexican girl on the food network make (and you like chocolate better than regular vanilla flan, because who doesn't like chocolate??). Make sure you aren't accomplishing anything important - that is the real sign of having mastered 3.

4. Talk AD NAUSEUM about the situation you are faced with, adding no new information, learning no new advice, just chattering and prattling away about nothing, again, not doing the month's worth of laundry that has been in a pile, now a small tribute to Kennesaw Mountain (and little Kennesaw), that's on the floor of all 3 rooms of the house that you occupy. Make sure to preach to the choir - accomplishing REALLY nothing, just violently agreeing.

5. Think of non-things to do, non-people to talk to, non-food to eat, etc. instead of moving your college items from the garage to the basement (where they belong), because they have made a nice aparment out of the garage. Invent new tasks, new things to buy, get a new bee in your bonnet, like going to IKEA because you need to look for "x". In general, a good rule is to create new and useless tasks, etc. to continue on with. Make sure to convince yourself of things that you don't need.

6. Lament the beautiful day, saying to yourself that you really love nature, beauty, and photography, and puppies, and rainbows, and kitties and that you MUST not waste the day inside (though you might play farmville or mafia wars inside). Make sure to deny your allergy to mosquitos that leaves you with welts the size of quarters and your incessant sneezing when microscopic elements of God's creativity infultrate your fallen-world nose. Make sure to feel deep things, and think deep things, convincing yourself that this is of much GREATER import than the fact that your taxes are not yet filed, and you really could use that cash.

7. Use God as an excuse to avoid...God. Have a crisis of needing to "be with the Lord" which entails "battling through your same questions" as opposed to tackling the now, very obvious lack of practicality that has struct your young, 24 and 1/2 year old life with not quite a shock 'cause it's been there all along and it's probably causing the crisis, if there really is one (and there could be), in the first place. Make sure to get lost (without a map) in deep thoughts that have the power to overwhelm and immobilize you into inaction, making sure to perpetuate the drama, so that a sense of depth, worth, breadth, and feeling is felt, thought through, agonized over, and still not fixed. The point is to draw it out...then have a sense of accomplishment after conquering what is, merely a problem with having too much stuff, too many hobbies, and organizing that into one tiny closet, that problem that you have turned into a personality disorder (in your own understanding), when really, about a week would get you organized and set.

This is how you flounder. I hope it made more than just me chuckle. When I've overloaded my plate, bit off more than I can chew, and then some of those things are done and gone, I realize I'm empowered to do what I need (and honestly, want) to get done. I just thought to write a little characature of myself - because I sometimes take myself too seriously. Bless and praise the Lord for simple tasks to accomplish and the peace that the mundane chores of the house sometimes provide the overthought, the overwrought, the overworked, and the overrested. He is good, and many times, I am silly. And ALL the time, I need to clean my room.

Controlled chaos...

What a week - I haven't written in a long while because I've been finishing up my graduate classes for the semester, along with grading, dealing with parents, tutoring, crying, praying, reading, not-sleeping, farmville, mafia wars...lol.

This past week has been a challenge for sure. With the real possibility of losing the job that God gave me, I have been in many places emotionally, except scared. Something have happened, somethings have been said, and for the first time in a LONG while I have felt angry (something specific has made me mad the past 3 or so days). But I won't go into that because I just want to write about something else.

First things: I don't feel scared about my job. God will provide. I say this, and people misunderstand when I say that He will provide. One of my besetting sins is slowbedience in terms of honoring my word to myself (and to others). If I feel worried even a little (imagine what it's like when it's full-blown anxiety), I freeze, I panic, and I sit in the pool of doubts and immobilization. To put my concerns, fears, hopes, aspirations on the alter of sacrifice to the Lord, saying that He is in control, I nearly immediately feel empowered to work, to search out my options, to forsake fear, and to make a plan that allows plenty of room for God to step in - there is a God-sized hole in any plan that I make. It's His plan, I'm simply walking in faith that He will providentially meet me with an answer as I'm moving by the power of the Unseen Spirit. Many people perceive my words that "I'm trusting in God" to mean that I am going to sit around and wait on God, when in reality, if I were paralyzed by fear and worry, doubt and misery, I would be immobile. Some people are very motivated by fear and begin furiously working out something because there isn't a net - I'm not one of those at all - my mom could tell you - I've been a chronic procrastinator since the day I came into the world, over 20 hours in labor...

I say this because I want there to be no misunderstanding as to the point about me having rose-colored glasses. In fact, those who know me best (my family), would probably call me very negative and pessimistic (though I maintain that I am "realistic"). I am probably going to say the glass is half-empty - it's my nature, I want to strive for better. So if i tell you, I'm looking to the Lord for His answer on the future, don't think that the gears aren't turning furiously like a clock wound tightly. I am the way He made me.

Second, and this is hard for me to say because it is so personal to my heart, I have really started praying that the Lord provide me with a husband to serve. I had initially been praying for him as if he were out there, and I just didn't know him yet, but I think it's better not to assume and just ask - I almost feel like the Holy Spirit corrected the way that I had been praying. In praying this, I feel like I have been in preparation mode. The past two weeks, I've been taking care of personal house-keeping - things like making sure that I take care of my health, then my living space, my responsibilities (like the bills, my duties at school - doing things in a timely manner, grading, endeavoring to improve my teaching skills), then growing with the Lord. I feel the biggest hurdle I face is losing 90 lbs. Yep - that's the number that looms in the future. It's funny, normally I'd have some shame saying it, but seeing as I am out for some prayer, and satan ain't got nothin' on me if I ain't got nothin' to hide, I'm just gonna throw it out there.

I went to the doctor, and there really isn't anything wrong besides the fact I need to be out in the sun to get some viatamin D. My cholesterol, hormones, viatamins, blood pressure are excellent, in the words of the doctor. I've got my dad's mom's goooooooood genes. The only issue is the weight, which is more emotional than anything. And in all the time that I have been overweight, I've tried to figure out what was wrong. In looking back at photographs, I realized that my perception was NOT reality - I really wasn't ALWAYS fat...but a few snide remarks from nasty classmates will trigger anyone's perception meter to point in the extreme section of the gauge. And I think that's what gave me the perception. Trying to figure out how it got there has been the biggest fit. A lot of times, if I know the root, I'm fixed - knowing the truth sets me free, but man, of all of them, this has been the biggest mystery in terms of "where it all started". Now, peeps may say that "you should get over having to know". And I would say respect the process of growth - I'm going somewhere, just slowly - speak up when I stop moving, but just saying "get over it" doesn't help anyone get better. I welcome wisdom and insight, but simple statements and catchphrases will be round-filed into the cliche-bin until they become relevant by transforming truth (which I really feel is ONLY a work done by and reserved for the Holy Spirit). All this to say, in asking for a husband, serving him when he's not here, I figure, will serve to help serve him better when he is. And I think that might start with taking care of what God has given me stewardship over. In looking over it, I think I've handled those things poorly, which is not how I want to treat and serve another person - if we're supposed to be "one flesh" and I start treating him how I treat the other things I steward (like my personhood, my body, my space, my job, my duties), I'll not be honoring the Lord - I'll get careless with him like I'm careless with me, because I will see it like "he is me" and I don't do well right now "as me".

I use the word "stewardship" because if I say "I need to take care of myself" I won't do it; it will sound too much to like self-help, which reminds me too much of self-worship. If I look at it like I have a responsibility to God to do these things (which, I do, being that I'm called to honor the Holy Temple that is the body, serve others as if I were serving God [according to Paul], and steward my finances well), I'm more likely to maintain a conviction, rather than a whiney "poor me, woe to all I have to do" attitude. So if there's anyone who reads this, your prayers are coveted.

On a side note, I have been praying against praying for a husband out of idleness. Now, I know that praying can't be wrong, but you know, the rehearsing of words, and things over our minds and hearts can captivate our attention to the detriment of our walk with Christ - this is NOT what I want. If anything, Christ is who I desire to remain at the center, though I might at times get distracted. I am really praying and asking the Lord if now is the right time to start asking. My chief desire is to honor and glorify Him in all things - the principal reason for me to get married - really the only reason I would desire to be in my heart - would be to further glorify the Lord. So, if you pray, please do pray His will. Oh, how I love Him, and how He is the only One that matters.

Realities...

Haven't written in a long time. Confession - I feel very depressed. I feel overwhelmed. I feel aimless.

There's nothing like feeling aimless when there is SO MUCH TO DO. I feel like I need something really BIG to look forward to. But I don't want to have a whine fest, just want to tell it like I'm feeling it.

I had a GREAT time in San Antonio, despite some minor irritations at things that they said from time to time. All I can say is that a blanket and atmosphere of grace covers my remembrances of last week and God was so gracious and merciful. Thank you to those of you who prayed - tears come to my eyes at the debt of gratitude that I have to you all for your generous words, love and support. Your love and the love of our Father in heaven enabled me to love them better than I have ever felt. Thank you.

I'm sure that the firestorm that I created did not go unnoticed. In talking with a close friend in my life, I have vacillated between whether or not it was a good decision to be as open as I was. It's foolish to regret what I cannot change, but certainly, I can hear wisdom when she is calling in the streets. At the same time, I don't feel terribly bad because what the negative response I received was an overreacted backlash. I told my friend that I know that part of me is rebelling (and I'm not terribly rebellious) against the hidden nature of what I knew growing up. So much was kept away from light, and it was exposed in hideous ways when my parents divorced. If I can confess things before the evil one has an opportunity to use truth that way, I will do it. I had pretending like things are okay; I hate hiding, though things needn't be exposed to EVERYONE.

So, if I hurt people, I am sorry. I am still young - though that is not an excuse because I can choose to know better and do better. In addition, my desire was to help others to pray better and specifically. And I do not want shame to have a stronghold in my life. It has had one before, and I don't want it to happen again. It was in the interests of extreme love, not extreme slander, but I don't anticipate that this will be understood, sadly, by the people who matter to me the most. I will continue to pray and to love, but I cannot shy away from truth and reality in the interests of minimizing the real feelings of sadness, sorrow, loss, pain, and growth. I am thankful to the Lord for graciously teaching me, and I pray for the reconciliation of things, whether that be now, or something to be seen in eternity. But for now, I can be wiser about how open I am, and do things more carefully. As far as it goes for me, I will continue to share MYSELF openly.

I am asking you for your prayers. I will go to the neurologist in the next three weeks. Some of you know, many don't, about teeth chattering. I have had a tremor in my jaw for the past year. I can only control it to some degree, but it causes my eyes, facial muscles and head to move involuntarily. I don't know what caused it - I prayed pretty intensely during December 2008 and January 2009 - to the point where I was stressing myself out physically. I can "move" the tremor to my hands, once felt it in my shoulders. It's a scary thing, not knowing, not having known. Now that I have insurance, I'm thankful that I can get things straightened out. But it will be a little nerve-wracking. Pardon the pun. I'm going to be hopeful for the next few months for what is to come and what the Lord will do.

Of hard things and prayer...

I finally have an opportunity to sit down and write things - some from what's going on now, and something from a continuation of a couple of posts ago.

First things first.

As I have prayed for my grandpeople, I have found that their hearts are harder than ever - or perhaps, I'm just seeing what those hearts look like exposed. I quote, "I wish you would stop talking about that stuff - Lee HATES it, I HATE it." Mind you, my speech is saturated with God now to the point I don't realize it - and I don't watch it. I used to - I used to feel weird talking, but God did, what I would call, a hidden work in me. The change was so gradual through high school and college that I didn't realize it until I slowed down last year and thought about the journey that it has been. God was in my life in those earlier years, but so much more have the things of His glory and truth saturated me (and things that come out of me) that I don't realize it.

Did I say anything about Jesus? No. Until last night, I had said nothing, but Four Points, the people there, my mom, my Heavenly Father - they are REAL parts of my life. And my grandpeople, they don't want me to talk about it at all. Simple fact for her: she doesn't want anyone to "tell her what to do." We had what was the closest heart to heart that we possibly have ever had - but they aren't possible without the "aid" of certain liberating "substances." It's an "in" though - I managed to share some, but so hard, so full of pride, and so self-assured in a correct estimation of EVERYTHING she was. And dad always comes up, so does mom.

Parents - if I can give you one piece of advice - and I am going to say this as hard as I can, with as many needles as possible so that it really pokes: do not talk and complain about your spouse to anyone besides them. If you are so cowardly as to talk to EVERYONE but them, you need some maturity: grow up and quit worrying about what people think about you. Talk to them, you cobarde. Because there are people who use that as ammunition - it may be a cliche to say this, but I don't care: you really can demonize a person, and you ought not to. Those people who are simply looking for an excuse to throw them under the bus CAN and WILL when it suits their purposes for shifting blame.

He is a retired golf pro, so we watched the press conference with Tiger Woods. The last time I stayed a week with them, it was a week after my parents decided to separate. Yeah, that was fun. Then I get to watch this with them - Tiger taking responsibility, but then hearing about my dad and how my mom also is at fault (then I defend her and marriage), then there's talk of this that or the other about dad. I mean, there is damage. This family needs healing, it needs forgiveness, it needs a SAVIOR. But, she out and out rejects it - they have lived the "American Dream" their kids are "good kids" (nevermind the REAL junk - and I mean, REAL - I won't get into it here because there are some things I do want to protect). She's moral, she's lived "right."

Yeah, but for me, it's not enough. For me, no, it's not a crutch, it's not about feeling "good" or "comfort." It's not about being "right" - it's about truth and no falsehood. It's about deep love, and not good feelings. It's about taking responsibility, not abdicating it.

It will be a work of the Holy Spirit if this comes to pass. I cannot deny that I have had the feeling of giving up, or of letting my heart harden toward them. Of saying to myself, "the Lord opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble" and ending it there. But is that not proud, too? Then I read James 5:11, which says "behold, we consider those blessed who remained steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful." The NIV uses the phrase, "we consider blessed those who perservered." Will I?

My greatest fear is that I would pray and pray and love and love, and it would yield me nothing. Funny that I mention this - when I wrote the last post, asking for prayer, a good week after the retreat, I said a silent prayer in a silent breath as I clicked the post button "Lord, please do not let Your Word return void to You." After posting, I opened the bible to a tiny card in it. At the retreat, we were asked to put our fears or requests on these cards - one or a few that we knew were on our heart or mind - something the Lord had showed us that weekend. I opened to the one that read "dad's, nina's, and poo-poo's salvation" - I had simply placed it "wherever" in my Bible. On the page where their card was Isaiah 55, in which are verses 10-11, "For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven / and do not return there but water the earth, / making it bring forth and sprout, / giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, / so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth, / it shall not return to me empty, / but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, / and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it."

Because I had just posted that request, and "happened" to put that card there, "happened" to say that tiny, tiny, prayer, then opened to the card that really mattered, and read the verse (the location of which, I had no idea), I simply cried. All over again. And it's hard not to now, even though I'm sitting in the San Antonio startbucks.

Please continue to pray. God enabled me to come here - pay day was last wednesday, Chicago was canceled, and I was led. And I am met with bondage, brokenness, and nothing but what a Savior could do. Please pray that I don't get discouraged - that I love more, and not less. Please let Christ bug the hell (literally) out of them. I need a Pauline, C.S. Lewi-sh conversion. If I love them, does not God love them more? I want my parents to reconcile, even, just to spite them and their worldliness, to spite the evil one. What better way to spite evil than with good? Darkness than with light? Strife with peace? Pray that I would be salt and light. Pray that love abouds and softens hearts as hard as stones. Please join this war effort. It will only add to the Lord's glory - and that is the call of our lives, right? To add to his reknown.