Can't Put It Off Any Longer

If I'm going to live, I've got to write. It appears that my personality is one that just has to unravel things by writing.
I've had some type of writer's block for the last 5 years or so. Some kind of psychic stroke that just paralyzed me. I started getting some positive comments on my blog before and all of a sudden, I was frozen. The only way to regain function is to start some wiggling of fingers and toes. Hopefully, my initial mumbling will make some sense. I miss my blogging friends and look forward to reconnecting, if possible. Not sure if bloggers who quit are able to find their way back into the fold.

Oh Great LIght of the World.

I guess I've been hiding, riding out the storm. Sitting, quiet in the cellar, while the tempest uproots,purges, every solid thing above ground, sweeping it all away in one massive, terrible cleansing. The roar was deafening and the fury, magnificent. And me, knowing that there wasn't a thing I could do to control the course of it or orchestrate the outcome.I had no say in what would be taken and what would be left. After the initial terror, strange electric comfort in letting go.

It's been quiet a little while now, and I think it's safe to have a look around-to see if anything's left at all. Will I even recognize the landscape? No, there's not much left and the place doesn't look familiar, but we are alive and we have a chance to begin a new life. The cellar lessons of surrender, trust, and comfort will be the foundation for what lies ahead.

The Lord has lifted me up in a funny, deeply profound and still mostly unspeakable way. He has held me as an infant, wrapped me up, warm and fuzzy, and full. I am helpless in His arms right now and mostly speechless while I get reaquainted with my native tongue, the whispers of a wild and tender love.

My deepest thanks to all you who have so patiently and gently prayed me home. I have been rescued, delivered from darkness. I can feel His love for me for the first time in my life. Alleluia.

Isaiah 49:8-26
God also says:

"When the time's ripe, I answer you. When victory's due, I help you. I form you and use you to reconnect the people with me, to put the land in order, to resettle families on the ruined properties. I tell prisoners, 'Come on out. You're free!' and those huddled in fear, 'It's all right. It's safe now.' There'll be foodstands along all the roads, picnics on all the hills-Nobody hungry, nobody thirsty, shade from the sun, shelter from the wind, for the Compassionate One guides them, takes them to the best springs. I'll make all my mountains into roads, turn them into a superhighway. Look: These coming from far countries, and those, out of the north, these streaming in from the west, and those from all the way down the Nile?"

Heavens raise the roof! Earth, wake the dead!Mountains, send up cheers! God has comforted his people. He has tenderly nursed his beaten-up, beaten-down people.

But Zion said, "I don't get it. God has left me. My Master has forgotten I even exist."

Can a mother forget the infant at her breast, walk away from the baby she bore? But even if mothers forget, I'd never forget you-never. Look, I've written your names on the backs of my hands. The walls you're rebuilding are never out of my sight. Your builders are faster than your wreckers. The demolition crews are gone for good. Look up, look around, look well! See them all gathering, coming to you? As sure as i am the living God-God's Decree-'you're going to put them on like so much jewelry, you're going to use them to dress up like a bride'.

And your ruined land? Your devastated, decimated land? Filled with more people than you know what to do with! And your barbarian enemies, a fading memory. The children born in your exile will be saying, 'It's getting too croweded here. I need more room.' And you'll say to yourself, 'Where on earth did these children come from? I lost everything, had nothing, was exiled and penniless'...I'm the one who's on your side, defending your cause, rescuing your children. And your enemies, crazed and desperate, will turn on themselves...then everyone will know that I, God, have saved you-I, the MIghty One of Jacob." The Message.

I've been avoiding this.

I know I'm waiting for a day when I will have some couragous, spiritual thing to say, sure that one more dark post will just be too much for everyone. I had a comment one day remarking on how pessimistic I am. I know I'm not handling this whole thing right, but the fact is that this is me right now and I don't know how to be anything else. And I feel ashamed because of it, and unlovable-defective. The truth about me is coming out for all to see. I just can't seem to get it together.

I saw a clip the other day in one of my classes. The researcher(Harlow) was studying attachment and its effects on development. They gave this little baby monkey a choice between two wire mothers. One mother had a bottle attached but no padding for the wire. The other mother had soft padding but no bottle. The baby chose the padded mother every time. She chose comfort over food. When both mothers were taken away, the baby just paced, holding her hands over her face, sort of autistic-like. She didn't know how to interact with her peers properly. She was just distraught.

This is how I feel. I was attached-in my fear, I chose a comfort that could never fill my hunger. And now my comfort is gone and I pace, with my head in my hands, lost.

Jesus knew I would starve to death rather than let go, because I only saw two choices in life. Empty comfort or comfortless nourishment. He is the only combination of both, isn't he? Once again, I recognize a severe mercy in my deliverance from this relationship.

I know the answer would be that I find Jesus as my source of comfort now-He would provide not only comfort, but true sustenance. How? How? How? Everything is just pitch black with pain.

The Great Physician

I've been running from God for so long. Afraid of Him and what I thought was His punishment. Afraid for Him to look at me in my frightful condition.

Like an injured child, terrified of the very doctor who wanted to mend them,I ran away. Not understanding that going through the pain of the treatment is the only way to begin to heal. I have hidden my wounds and they have become infected and lethal. If I ever would have been able to look Him in the eye,I would have seen the love that wanted to heal me all along.

I am tired and sick and ready to submit, ready to surrender the hidden parts so that I might be made whole. I'll let Him drain away all the poison from all the years of hiding this pain. I'll believe that this pain has a purpose.I realize now there is no other way but through.

And I will be in good hands.

Broken pieces

What can I do with all these broken pieces of my life?

Most, if not all of them are as a result of my sin and rebellion. I want to hate myself, hurt myself, punish myself somehow for being such a bad person, for making decisions that will bring hurt to my children for the rest of their lives. I don't blame him for finding someone else. I have been very selfish. What does a person do with this knowledge? How can I change? How could I ever make amends? It is so hard to face the kind of person I have become. How do people go on when their own sin has brought such devastation? How can I ever lift my head again?I don't understand anymore about what it means to lay things at the foot of the cross. Why can't I understand it?

It feels hard to write today. Hard to put words together. Hard to think. I wish I had some uplifting, funny piece to write-inspiring, thought-provoking things to say, but it's just more of the same. Be warned.

Later on in the day on Wednesday, I had a major meltdown. I ended humiliating myself with Steve, leaving him crazy, hysterical messages and just basically making a fool of myself. I told him I couldn't handle him coming over for Thanksgiving and that I really couldn't handle seeing him at all. It was a very sad, pathetic way to say good-bye to someone I loved for 8 years. He told me I was a selfish bitch and wished me well. There was truth in the things he was trying to say to me and I was just to crazed to listen.

At any rate, it is all over. No more friendship, no more phone calls, he won't be stopping by anymore. I've made him hate me.

So, it feels today, like he has left me all over again, only this feels so final. I know this is a boundary that will have to be upheld for quite some time. I know it needs to be like this. It just hurts so much.

There is a huge hole left in me, in my life. I don't know how to be today. I want to just fall in that hole and have the dirt filled in on top of me. How do I do this? How do I stand it? The depression is so black and dark and the practical details of this fallout seem without solution. I have no money, no income at the moment, school seems impossible. The past and future are two bottomless pits on either side of my path.

How do people survive these kinds of things? I have such admiration for those who have.

Oy vey

I wake today to realize that tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I am responsible for making it a nice day for everyone and providing the usual feast. My parents are making the 5 hour trip and will be here this evening. A few others may be coming as well. The jury is still out on Steve(I'm aware it makes no rational sense to have him here). He told the boys he wants to be with his" family" for Thanksgiving. The boys are set on him being here.

My house is a disaster. I have not done any shopping or planning. I wish I were in a hospital bed curled up in the fetal position staring at the wall. I do not want to do this. I do not have the will to do this, but I have to, and somehow, someway I am guessing I will. I imagine I will tap into the same energy that allows mothers to lift cars off their trapped children. Tomorrow afternoon, we will find ourselves sitting around a pretty table, in a clean house. I will be carrying a golden brown turkey to the table, my hair will be done and I will be smiling and talking, maybe even a laugh or two. There will be homemade pies and the usual oohs and ahs. And I will pray that those moments when I disappear to the bathroom, nobody hears my sobbing.