It’s never that I don’t want to…

don’t want to reach out,

don’t want to be there,

don’t want to feel normal,

or connected,

or helpful…

When my mind is not overtaken, these all feel right.

Normally, the moment I am alone, my thought world spirals into places that won’t stop. One thought overlapping the other before I am even conscious of the next. It’s a never ending chasim of corridors evoking fear, paralyzing me.

I told a friend this and they were like, “honey, that’s not normal”. 🥴

When I’m “forced” or motivated to be busy with my hands or my head, it’s all gone for a moment.

And I feel a release.

This is one of the reasons why I write, why I need exercise, why I try to keep myself busy, why I create.

But the moment I have an open doorway, it comes in like a hurricane.

I close up like an old rickety shut down cabin in the woods where not much can get to me.

Anxiety is torment to those to who are unfamiliar.

It’s a hidden illness.

It can be healed, with time and love and space and consistency, with people who are gentle, grace-filled and un-intruding, but yet, never too much.

I still desperately need my faithful steady companions. Its a razors edge for those trying to navigate this with us.

Something I’m learning; There’s a big difference between rational and irrational fear.

Sometimes we do have life circumstances that cause us to have rational fear.

But rational fear is specific and constructive.

Irrational fear debilitates us.

I’m doing my best to be cognizant of the difference.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be cured but what I do know is that I am making progress. And that’s enough for me.

Today, that’s enough for me.

Today is all we are promised.

I have a long way to go yet, but acknowledging this is a huge step in my journey.

Reaching out, even though at times it feels likes the floor is falling beneath me, is sometimes the only place I feel any progress, but often can’t even do.

We are all deep vessels, never able to be fully known except from the One who created us.

However, the moment I take the time to learn myself, and then have the guts to share that, I actually drop a weight that I didn’t realize I was holding and it opens up a world to be able to understand the ones I love that much more. It’s become a double bonus!

It took me a long time to be able to recognize this but it’s been freeing to see it and acknowledge it.

If this strikes a cord, you’re not alone.

Mental health is something that we are just starting to acknowledge as a society and when our voice is heard, things happen!

Keep supporting and keep speaking your truth to those you trust.

Anything in the dark that gets exposed to the Light is everything that the devil wants hidden to keep us down and everything good that our God wants exposed, to free us from and He will, in His time. Be patient with yourself. Give yourself a lot of grace, but never stop fighting. ❤️

#mentalillness #anxiety #worry #healing #ifjustone

“Excuse me” I hear.

I turn and don’t recognize the person. We have been trained to know when an intruder is in the midst.

I cautiously walk toward her. She is holding an ancient phone with a way too long cord wrapped around.

“Do you know if anyone can use this?” she says with a shaky voice.

“Ummm..” I stutter, unsure of the answer, my mind going 7000 miles a minute, attempting to assess the situation.

I glance at the room number and then look into her eyes and suddenly I know.

He eyes, glassed over and red around the rim. She is doing the bravest thing I’ve ever witnessed (and all on her own).

She is cleaning out her deceased mother’s room.

I can’t imagine the chaos of emotions she is experiencing, sorting through all her things.

I take the phone and assure her that someone can use it, even when I know no one will.

“I’m so sorry, I’m proud of you” I say. Her eyes soften and tears well up. “Thank you” she replies.

Per my usual, I go too far and ask her if she needs a hug. She shakes her head, looks downward and fakes a smile as she shuts the door.

I regret my last decision but I don’t let that lie consume me. What if she did? It may have mattered. I continue with my activities, all the while thinking of her in that room.

My hope is that she said everything she wanted to say, that she felt loved and cherished and that her tears were tears of grief and not regret.

While I know, we will always have many regrets, I’m confident that her tears were representation of the fact that whatever her mother needed to know, she did, and most certainly now, because she is in the arms of Jesus. She can now see all things clearly.

Time doesn’t actually stop, even though it may seem that way to those of us that are left here, and we feel that separation physically because we are physical beings, restricted by time and space.

BUT God’s amazing power defies time and space.

His ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts. What an amazing gift!

#thisisnotourhome #death #life #heaven #home #joy #love #ifjustone

Unduplicatible

Yup. I made up that word.

One is a lover

One is a giver…

One is an encourager

One fights dismay…

One intrudes

One gives space…

One is expressive.

One is reserved…

One is ambiguous

One is direct…

One has no physical boundaries

One is disembodied….

One is emotionally helpful

One is tangibly…

One needs transparency

One needs privacy…

One is witty

One is deep…

One asks

One give hints…

One requires more

One requires less…

One is resilient

One takes time to show that…

One needs accolades

One simply doesn’t…

One needs spontaneity

One needs consistency…

One needs silence

One needs activity…

All need love

As parents we can never possibly meet all these needs but we can see them. We can acknowledge them and their gifts and uniqueness.

Most importantly, may we never forget that they all posses the ability to love, in their own way.

Don’t miss it.

It’s absolutely incredible, when we stop and see all of who they are. Putting them in a box will only limit them and us and ultimately our relationship with them.

It’s taken me almost 30 years to see this. I hope you are already seeing this in yourself first, in others, and in your children if you have them, if you don’t see this yet, I pray you see it sooner than I did. ❤️

Fearfully and wonderfully made, are we all!

#iappreciateyourvalueinmylife #unique #parenting #boxes

I could not hear a sound outside today.

The stillness was perplexing.

Silence like love: carrying peace and pain.

Both of you essential, but in a constant battle for dominance.

Never stopping to see me; the object of both of your existence.

Silence, I need you, to teach me things about myself. You rejuvenate me, you give me strength and a filling nothing else can, so I can then share that.

Love, you’re crazy, you scare me and also fill me in ways beyond words. Giving and/or receiving you is your magical gift, only you possess. I need you most, maybe because I fear you most. You hold all the cards.

Exhaustion is sometimes all I can feel, trying to integrate you both into my life.

Defaulting one way or the other.

Loyalties, a whip-lashing experience, ending in usually an allegiance only to myself.

A place that feels comfortable and safe, always, eventually, resentment settles in.

Silence and love.

When I don’t attempt to get your attention, (whether that be saying no and basking in my needed solitude or running after love, given or received), face my own fear or break into the fight, you’ll continue to be a silence that isolates and a love that is self focused.

But suddenly I remember.

I have a choice.

I have an Advocate.

I have a Referee

“Timeout!” I can scream!

This is my team, my life, and it all matters to me!

First, I’ll bring it to Him.

He will be waiting, because that’s His only concern.

He is the one who listens, hears and then speaks.

This is silence and love perfected, that I could never attain on my own. ❤️

#anxiety #silence #love #iappreciateyourvalueinmylife

It’s hard to talk about my work because there’s so much I want to say and have to be very careful! But so much is worth talking about, in my opinion. Because it is all of life. Life we don’t always see or think about daily.

I seriously can’t believe I get paid for this job. It’s been good for me in ways that are too numerous to count. It allows me to feel. It allows me to express and help.

But here’s my story. For today.

I walk the halls, looking into the rooms.

This is all they have.

These rooms that they did not choose.

I distribute meals, talk for bit and as I exit, often tears well up and sometimes praise, at times, it’s simultaneously.

The loneliness that these people feel is obvious and overwhelming and the lives they’ve lived, when you hear their stories, is mind blowing.

One precious soul just entered the presence of Jesus. She had been widowed not once, but twice, before the age of 47. The joy of knowing she was finally free of all pain was more than I could handle.

Others, having had a love of their life removed permanently, sitting in their rooms, the only interaction being a housekeeper, a nurse tech or a meal being brought, is a depth of pain I can only imagine.

Another room, I glance through, while briskly walking past to my next agenda, (because thankfully the doors can be opened now) and instinctively I was a little shocked, at first thinking something scary was happening, only to realize that it was a family member standing directly outside her window dressed in winter garb that covered her identity. Unbeknownst to me as I entered, I realized that they were talking on the phone, looking at each other laughing and with glorious smiles.

These people have already changed me.

They’ve made me want to make my life matter and live it to the fullest. Not in the sense of self-accomplishing meaningless trophy’s to put on my shelf or even a lonely life, seemingly mundane or with ease.

I want a life full of love, full of people and full of stories.

When I’m brutally honest I hope it is unbelievably difficult intertwined with miraculous simple stories; stories that I can tell to people that will listen and gain from, to keep the red thread of humanity connected.

As much as I’m afraid to say this, gimme what you got Lord. Use me and fill my life with all that is Your purposes. Someday I will likely be sitting in one of these rooms; a room I will not choose.

I can see how desperately important it is that their stories matter. That they continue to matter to someone, to anyone. If I know anything, all our stories matter and have a purpose, whether we are 21 or 81 but ultimately, and only because they matter to Him.

Love those that have gone before. Value their wisdom and presence and at the least, learn something from them for your own life.

Live for love, live for connection: experiences that ignite the soul, sometimes difficult and even at a cost, every so often, but this will most certainly give you a life of no regrets and a heart that has been ignited.

I can only confidently say this because these are the only stories from His saints, those whom did not choose their room. ❤️

#wisdom

If you trip or fall, I’ll always be there.

This phrase has so much meaning to me, in more ways than I can express.

It’s not really about anyone else but what I’ve been through.

My sister, with MS, sometimes needing assistance of various kinds, my father losing his ability to walk, my kids, sometimes making choices that throw most of us off. Residents or loved ones that just have to take life much slower. Even those that seem to have it altogether, even collapse at times.

It is born of experience.

I’ve known this myself.

I’ve know declension.

I’ve also known ascension.

I’ve lost the ability to judge.

I’ve also lost the ability to not be hopeful.

It’s a bittersweet place to live.

Reality and hope always conflicting like oil and water.

Turn the mirror on yourself.

If you haven’t been there, to the deep, this won’t make any sense and if you have, you understand and stand together with me. Some of you may be somewhere in between and I promise, if this is true, you’ll be here soon, hopefully.

It’s a very fulfilling place to be, especially when you do the personal work.

While it still hurts, a lot, at times, you’ll be able to recover from the difficult moments or situations a lot quicker, generating peace, at the very least, for yourself.

Hopefully and often this will also spill out onto others.

Keep going!

He works things all together…

He parts the waters…

And often through the the most difficult of imaginings.

We pulled the box down from the attic.

I wasn’t ready, I thought.

And then this emerged.

I had forgotten.

It will sit on my shelf despite the fact that it’s not trendy or appeasing to the designers.

It’s old, worn and even childish.

But it reminds me of a woman that was wiser than words and loved deeper than the sea.

And suddenly I remember Thanksgiving with my gram.

I remember taking the dusty heavy silver box from the hutch, tucked way behind, carefully removing too many fragile things before I could get to it. Taking my time not to break them.

This is one place I know I was being taught patience.

Slowly opening the box as though it held secrets, beautiful silverware was revealed. Laid in the velvet, I retrieved the soft and too small cloth, doing exactly as I was told, shining up each piece.

She slaved away in the kitchen, humming or whistling and a peace surrounded me that I’ve never felt since.

After the work was done, we rested. She went to her davenport and directed me that it was time for a nap. I was amazed to be honest. It felt so odd and although my spirit fought it, rest finally came.

If I had My Thanksgiving, in this day and age, it would look like a bunch of misfits, some family and some not, to be honest, surrounding a table, eating, laughing, drinking, joking and telling stories of our own.

But life doesn’t work that way anymore. Rules and expectations have been established. Expectations have been laid upon us to even prove this.

Thanksgiving with my grandma was more about the time we spent prepping, the time we spent together, preparing to serve others. Honestly, I don’t even remember the actual meals.

But I do know, without a doubt, that someday I’ll be able to have My Thanksgiving. It will include all those dearest to my heart. We will sit together, tell endless stories of our past and thoroughly enjoy the time that will never have an ending.

I am going to spend my time here emulating this the best I can. I won’t do it well, I won’t do it near the same, I won’t even come close, but comparison or fear of man will kill me and if this decade has taught me anything, it’s that.

She has taught me so much, how can I not put my next foot in front of the other?

Letting go of daily insignificant matters •opinions of those who generate fear, but hold no integrity •situations with my children that have no hold on their future •the unknown, when financial and monetary desires entice •relationships that are not what I expect them to be •coworkers and sometimes even occupations that never satisfy.

I’m learning to rest.
Like the Sun…

The Sun lets go, every day.
It rests.
It rests for it‘s debut.
The Son knows the storyline.
Always knowing what it will witness while it shines.

But every evening, the darkness takes his place.

Alone, the darkness has its most power.
Hiding itself and yet shouting all the lies, at the same time, exposing all the truth, to those that have been a friend.

Yet every day, the Sun breaks through and the deception is exposed.

Still, every morning , the darkness’ remnant still drips with residue,
but Hope always arrives, on its white horse, galloping through the land, scattering freedom as it rides.

Light and darkness are worse than arch enemies.

While we will never, ever, be able to separate them, this side off heaven, we can, damn sure, join the side of light.

This life is not about us. In any way.
It is about Him.
It is about His world, works and His purposes.

This is where the light is found for yourself and for all others and our world.

Transparency and humility is where we connect, where electricity flows and continues to.

I will profess this until my dying breath but only because I have experienced it.

freedomofspeech #freedomofreligion. #stayconnected. #iappreciateyourvalueinmylife

My greatest gifts

Matthew 10:32
Whoever shall confess me before men, I therefore will confess before my Father in heaven.

I’m also sure that many of you can appreciate this analogy, even if you don’t agree with all I’ve said ❤️

I had a friend, soulmate, that I honestly admired more than anyone, who was taken home to her Beloved. She always said that Jesus was her lover.

While this seemed strange to me at the time, I now can see a glimpse of what she meant.

Jesus is your man.

He is your hero.

He wrote you love letters for days long to read.

He gives you grace like you’ve never experienced.

He always hears you.

He always understands you, better than you understand yourself.

He is ever-present.

He literally drained his blood and endured unimaginable pain, humiliation and persecution for you.

He took the bullet.

For his love for you.

This is the deepest and truest type of love.

He sacrificed his comfort and rule.

For another he loved.

You.

This isn’t a myth.

It is recorded in history with numerous eye witnesses.

This is truth at its core.

Yet no human can ever fulfill this.

For those that are married, this does not mean that you should compare or that your spouse does not love you, but they should resemble this, more importantly, so should you.

If you’re single, know, that He can meet all your needs and more, if you will let Him.

He is the example.

Love is sacrifice.

Love is transparency.

Love is humble.

Love is overwhelming, when recognized.

Love is action.

Love doesn’t live in the world of words.

Love is only experienced and then felt.

End of story.

#loverofmysoul

Pain, of any type, cannot be remedied.

Devoid of any capability for processing, defending or argumentation.

Antidotes, oxygen to the already burning flame.

Pain’s raving thirst, only acknowledgement can quench.

Acknowledgement, the release.

Pleading for recognition.

Then, a relief comes, “uncomfortable silence” shows up, maybe uncomfortable for the receiver but comforting to the one experiencing the pain.

Sometimes, daringly, someone even states the reality, that reality that the pain desperately needs pronounced, that doesn’t have the strength itself to utter.

Ignoring, pretending, discrediting, or offering solutions is exactly where stagnancy thrives.

Real love is hard. It’s bold and it’s uncomfortable at times, but it thinks of the others’ pain first.

If you love someone, you will sit with them in their puddle. Realize you will probably, ever only, know one quarter of all that they have gone through or are processing.

I’ve been great at giving advice to those in pain, that falls on deaf ears and has done more damage that I could have imagined. However, it’s only through my own pain that I have been able to finally recognize that there are no solutions outside of this.

*SITTING IN THE PUDDLE* and *ACKNOWLEDGING THE PAIN* (even if it feels extremely unnatural) is, in my opinion, the most productive way to keep each other on a healing path and moving forward through it.

Isn’t this what we all ultimately want for each other?

God has comforted me and how then now shall I not comfort others. (2 cor 1:3-4)