Once upon a time I used to go back through my blog (because at least starting in college, maybe even in high school, in the days of livejournal and xanga. . . ) and post a "Year in Review" where I would put the first sentence/paragraph of a post from each month that "represented" how that month was viewed in my adolescent mind.
I am absolutely not doing that now. There's a list of my entries on the right, free for anyone to click through.
But it is the last day of 2018, and lots has happened, both good and bad, but mostly good. So here's a quick list of things in no particular order (though let's be honest, it's gonna probably be chronologically because that's what my brain does) that characterize the year for me:
- actually making good strides in a marathon for the first time in several years
- putting together my best show with some great and talented friends
- performing solo piano lit for the first time in quite a while
- graduating from Trinity
- performing internationally at ClarinetFest
- seeing my first Broadway shows in NYC
- successfully making my way through marathon training (and looking forward to the race!!)
- being called as an elder/pastor at Grace Life
I usually don't set out resolutions or theme words until after the marathon, since in some ways that belongs to the year prior, and I will probably keep with that tradition, so you can look forward to that in a couple weeks, after everyone else has made their own. I'm not mad about 2018 overall/I'm not super excited that it's over, but even though the next couple months may be difficult, I'm looking forward to continuing to be living and learning and engaging during 2019.
Ephesians 3:20-21
Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
12/31/2018
12/23/2018
Christmas is nigh. . . (also, link storm)
It's been a week, y'all.
(I can pretend to be southern, I've been down here almost ten years)
Really though. . . I'm going to try and organize my thoughts the best I can. I'm not super depressed like I was last year at Christmas, but I've had some struggles in trying to keep from slipping down that path again. I opened the floodgates last Sunday night and I think a lot of it has just been me dealing with the pain that's still down there. I don't mean to avoid or ignore it, and I'd also like to think that while the hurt never goes away, I hold on to hope and joy in Christ more of the time than I suppress emotions and just survive, but anyway, I did make one discovery on my run this afternoon-
(which, side note, I accomplished my 20 mile run on Friday, which was such a great win for what ended up being a low week. It's only the third time I've ran that far without stopping for more than just refueling, the first two times being the training for my second marathon and the subsequent race, right before we got married. It's been so long since I've had to make routes that long that I had forgotten the sense of adventure and discovery that happens when you start running the actual roads and not just plotting them out on a map. Anyway)
-I think one of the reasons that I am loath to talk with people about Cam is that I have had many people who were there in the beginning of this journey disappear from my life. There's a couple problems with this line of thought, because objectively I should know better that it's correlation and not causation. I also know that it's a common thing for a widow to have a change in friendship circles (point 2 in this list, the real life definition near the beginning here, literally this entire thing, the opening of this. . . not to mention research articles like this or this. Didn't mean for that to become a mini-rant, but also that's kind of the point) but it's hard not to think "well, my pain is too hard for those who I am close to, so sharing that with anyone new will just cause them to disappear as well." And I'm not sure how to change that kind of thinking. Is it just a rewiring of my brain? Do I have awkward conversations with people, asking what happened and why we're not really friends anymore? Do I just accept it as the new normal?
I'm 30. I don't know what I'm doing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Earlier this week I found myself in Psalm 13, which is not really one that I was immediately familiar with (I cling to 77 and 119 regularly). I think I literally typed in "How long God?" and it popped up. The ESV is good, but I'm almost through my journey through The Message and it's pretty powerful:
(I can pretend to be southern, I've been down here almost ten years)
Really though. . . I'm going to try and organize my thoughts the best I can. I'm not super depressed like I was last year at Christmas, but I've had some struggles in trying to keep from slipping down that path again. I opened the floodgates last Sunday night and I think a lot of it has just been me dealing with the pain that's still down there. I don't mean to avoid or ignore it, and I'd also like to think that while the hurt never goes away, I hold on to hope and joy in Christ more of the time than I suppress emotions and just survive, but anyway, I did make one discovery on my run this afternoon-
(which, side note, I accomplished my 20 mile run on Friday, which was such a great win for what ended up being a low week. It's only the third time I've ran that far without stopping for more than just refueling, the first two times being the training for my second marathon and the subsequent race, right before we got married. It's been so long since I've had to make routes that long that I had forgotten the sense of adventure and discovery that happens when you start running the actual roads and not just plotting them out on a map. Anyway)
-I think one of the reasons that I am loath to talk with people about Cam is that I have had many people who were there in the beginning of this journey disappear from my life. There's a couple problems with this line of thought, because objectively I should know better that it's correlation and not causation. I also know that it's a common thing for a widow to have a change in friendship circles (point 2 in this list, the real life definition near the beginning here, literally this entire thing, the opening of this. . . not to mention research articles like this or this. Didn't mean for that to become a mini-rant, but also that's kind of the point) but it's hard not to think "well, my pain is too hard for those who I am close to, so sharing that with anyone new will just cause them to disappear as well." And I'm not sure how to change that kind of thinking. Is it just a rewiring of my brain? Do I have awkward conversations with people, asking what happened and why we're not really friends anymore? Do I just accept it as the new normal?
I'm 30. I don't know what I'm doing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Earlier this week I found myself in Psalm 13, which is not really one that I was immediately familiar with (I cling to 77 and 119 regularly). I think I literally typed in "How long God?" and it popped up. The ESV is good, but I'm almost through my journey through The Message and it's pretty powerful:
Long enough, God—you’ve ignored me long enough.
I’ve looked at the back of your head long enough.
Long enough I’ve carried this ton of trouble, lived with a stomach full of pain.
Long enough my arrogant enemies have looked down their noses at me.
Take a good look at me, God, my God;
I want to look life in the eye, so no enemy can get the best of me or laugh when I fall on my face.
I’ve thrown myself headlong into your arms— I’m celebrating your rescue.
I’m singing at the top of my lungs, I’m so full of answered prayers.
I'm not in this emotional state of questioning God as often these days, but it's a real thing. And God can handle our difficult questions and even our accusations. Matthew Henry describes the opening the best- "It is some ease to a troubled spirit to give vent to its griefs, especially to give vent to them at the throne of grace, where we are sure to find one who is afflicted in the afflictions of his people and is troubled with the feeling of their infirmities; thither we have boldness of access by faith, and there we have parresia —freedom of speech."
That word is in the NT several times, but probably my favorite is in Hebrews 10:
Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence (parrhesia) to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
But those questioning moments have to be followed by the recognition of God's character- His sovereignty, unending love, grace, faithfulness, consistency, goodness, the list goes on. We have to learn to live in the light of that truth.
Matthew Henry again- "his heart, which was now daily grieving, should rejoice in that salvation."
I'm fighting for that. I know God's redemption is in all of this. I know that there is plenty of God's work in my life that I can (and do) celebrate. I know Cam would be proud of what I've accomplished in following God's lead (as well as what I've accomplished as a musician). Next week is an exciting step in that journey, in being voted in as an elder/pastor at Grace Life, and literally there is no part of that that does not have God's hand in it. But recognizing that in the face of the everyday struggle is harder certain times more than others.
So here's to Christmas, for a time to surround ourselves with the reality of God. If God is not a reality to you. . . then reach out. Ask questions. Talk to me, or to someone who you know believes things that you may not. Seek the One Who we celebrate.
So here's to Christmas, for a time to surround ourselves with the reality of God. If God is not a reality to you. . . then reach out. Ask questions. Talk to me, or to someone who you know believes things that you may not. Seek the One Who we celebrate.
12/03/2018
too many things (but also at least one really good thing)
It is always shocking to see when the last entry was after knowing it has been a while since I have written. October 20. What happened since then (outside of the normal craziness). . .
A show at the university.
A concerto competition in the panhandle.
A thespian event in Orlando area.
Thanksgiving break in Michigan.
Six recitals.
So yeah. . . I think that's why I haven't had a chance to write. I almost did over Thanksgiving but I was working on an important project related to the process of becoming an elder at Grace Life Church, which makes a great segue to what I really want to get to. . .
This Sunday we announced to the church my candidacy to becoming an elder.
It's all good teaching, you can listen to the sermon here (I start talking around 39 minutes, there's a little bit of silence between 38 and 39).
I would write the story out here but in many ways, the story is contained within the entries of this blog. God has been in every detail up to this point, and I'm not really surprised that this is the point where I am at. There's a lot that will happen over the next few weeks. There have been a lot of swirling emotions around it, none of it particularly bad by any means, but just. . . things I need to write about. And I need to get through finals and juries before I think I will really be able to sit down and start to sort my thoughts.
So go listen to the sermon. Go read some entries. Ask me some questions. I'll be back to really write sometime after December 17th.
A show at the university.
A concerto competition in the panhandle.
A thespian event in Orlando area.
Thanksgiving break in Michigan.
Six recitals.
So yeah. . . I think that's why I haven't had a chance to write. I almost did over Thanksgiving but I was working on an important project related to the process of becoming an elder at Grace Life Church, which makes a great segue to what I really want to get to. . .
This Sunday we announced to the church my candidacy to becoming an elder.
It's all good teaching, you can listen to the sermon here (I start talking around 39 minutes, there's a little bit of silence between 38 and 39).
I would write the story out here but in many ways, the story is contained within the entries of this blog. God has been in every detail up to this point, and I'm not really surprised that this is the point where I am at. There's a lot that will happen over the next few weeks. There have been a lot of swirling emotions around it, none of it particularly bad by any means, but just. . . things I need to write about. And I need to get through finals and juries before I think I will really be able to sit down and start to sort my thoughts.
So go listen to the sermon. Go read some entries. Ask me some questions. I'll be back to really write sometime after December 17th.
10/21/2018
An angry week
This has been a strange week full of things that should not have been. And I've been angry. It's so easy to excuse anger, especially when you see it as a series of circumstances over which you have no control and little influence, and so therefore can do nothing about.
But that's only half of the story. Because we are in control of how we respond. Our emotions do not have to control our responses. So I have chosen to be angry about things this week, and the question I have been mulling over the past couple days is "why am I angry?" Really, when I look back at things, very little was all that terrible that I needed to be as angry as I was. So then, that points to an underlying problem, an anger because of something(s) else that instead of being dealt with directly is now channeled at all these circumstances (that I would honestly say 80% of the time I would have been pretty chill about).
So what is the real problem?
I think it's been two fold: first, that I'm not happy with some of my choices lately (see last entry) and so have not been as patient with myself as I could be; second, that as I continue to come back into living, I have to once again deal with my own ego. Both of these things are primarily tempered by taking a step back and gaining perspective. Camz was the best at doing that for me, and I try to find that voice inside myself. Well, sometimes I try. Sometimes it just comes. But probably more than I realize I have to make it a conscious effort.
It's also important to remember that anger is not necessarily a bad thing, but how we deal with it is. Psalm 4-
Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer! O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame? How long will you love vain words and seek after lies? But know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him. Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord. There are many who say, “Who will show us some good? Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!” You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.
And more clearly, Ephesians 4:22-27 gives some direct instruction as it quotes that part of the Psalm-
You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body. “In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.
So it's a new week. A new chance to respond in and with the Spirit and not with my flesh. A week that I can either put myself forward or look to others' needs first.
One last thing- The Message version of Psalm 4 offers a couple of interesting images:
v. 1...- When I call, give me answers. God, take my side!
... and it's answer in v. 3- He listens the split second I call to him.
And then v. 8- At day’s end I’m ready for sound sleep, for you, God, have put my life back together.
But that's only half of the story. Because we are in control of how we respond. Our emotions do not have to control our responses. So I have chosen to be angry about things this week, and the question I have been mulling over the past couple days is "why am I angry?" Really, when I look back at things, very little was all that terrible that I needed to be as angry as I was. So then, that points to an underlying problem, an anger because of something(s) else that instead of being dealt with directly is now channeled at all these circumstances (that I would honestly say 80% of the time I would have been pretty chill about).
So what is the real problem?
I think it's been two fold: first, that I'm not happy with some of my choices lately (see last entry) and so have not been as patient with myself as I could be; second, that as I continue to come back into living, I have to once again deal with my own ego. Both of these things are primarily tempered by taking a step back and gaining perspective. Camz was the best at doing that for me, and I try to find that voice inside myself. Well, sometimes I try. Sometimes it just comes. But probably more than I realize I have to make it a conscious effort.
It's also important to remember that anger is not necessarily a bad thing, but how we deal with it is. Psalm 4-
Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer! O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame? How long will you love vain words and seek after lies? But know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him. Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord. There are many who say, “Who will show us some good? Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!” You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.
And more clearly, Ephesians 4:22-27 gives some direct instruction as it quotes that part of the Psalm-
You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body. “In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.
So it's a new week. A new chance to respond in and with the Spirit and not with my flesh. A week that I can either put myself forward or look to others' needs first.
One last thing- The Message version of Psalm 4 offers a couple of interesting images:
v. 1...- When I call, give me answers. God, take my side!
... and it's answer in v. 3- He listens the split second I call to him.
And then v. 8- At day’s end I’m ready for sound sleep, for you, God, have put my life back together.
10/13/2018
All of the swirling emotions
The grief rock is weird. And this entry already feels scrambled.
September kicks off a 6 month period of crucial anniversaries, some happy and some not so much. But I had the recognition that the past few weeks I've been dealing with mood swings again, and the timing lines up perfectly. But awareness is the first step in being able to address an issue. I have a pretty good rhythm going with this semester (which, part of it is there is more space because I'm finished with the master's degree; I forgot how time consuming that really was) but I'm also realizing that I'm not making the best choices in dealing with my emotions. Some days I have done better than others, but at least I am fighting the tendency to isolate. And I'm doing my best not to let a temporary emotional state control my actions as much as possible.
Last fall I did not do a good job of fighting well. I think because I didn't want to deal with anything. I had had a good stride going in life from January until sometime in early August, and then I chose to fill up my life with all of the things instead of dealing with anything. And found myself empty and at the bottom of a dark hole by December. So the first part of this year has been about recovering from that, and really the end of summer/beginning of this fall I think I finally back on the living track.
So all that being said, I was reminded of Psalm 139, particularly v. 11-12:
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.
Whether I choose to live in darkness or light, that cannot separate me from God.
Side note- I had the feeling I've written something like this before. And I have- May 2017. And several things in some of my personal journals. So. . . . yay consistency?
September kicks off a 6 month period of crucial anniversaries, some happy and some not so much. But I had the recognition that the past few weeks I've been dealing with mood swings again, and the timing lines up perfectly. But awareness is the first step in being able to address an issue. I have a pretty good rhythm going with this semester (which, part of it is there is more space because I'm finished with the master's degree; I forgot how time consuming that really was) but I'm also realizing that I'm not making the best choices in dealing with my emotions. Some days I have done better than others, but at least I am fighting the tendency to isolate. And I'm doing my best not to let a temporary emotional state control my actions as much as possible.
Last fall I did not do a good job of fighting well. I think because I didn't want to deal with anything. I had had a good stride going in life from January until sometime in early August, and then I chose to fill up my life with all of the things instead of dealing with anything. And found myself empty and at the bottom of a dark hole by December. So the first part of this year has been about recovering from that, and really the end of summer/beginning of this fall I think I finally back on the living track.
So all that being said, I was reminded of Psalm 139, particularly v. 11-12:
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.
Whether I choose to live in darkness or light, that cannot separate me from God.
Side note- I had the feeling I've written something like this before. And I have- May 2017. And several things in some of my personal journals. So. . . . yay consistency?
9/18/2018
It's been a month. . .
. . . and what a month it has been. To be fair, the beginning of the school year is always a little crazy, and I didn't help myself by jet-setting the second half of summer.
I feel like I've written this entry in my head over and over and over, and it's finally time to put pen to paper. . . or fingers to keyboard. I forget sometimes that just thinking through things isn't quite enough, that for me at least I need to write things out both to organize and to dump the thoughts, whether it's out there for the world to see or not. I've been taking better care of my body since I've returned from New York, so I need to remember to take care of my mind as well.
I may have said some of this before, but I finally made a connection between two assumptions that are both wrong:
1) I never thought that this journey would get easier. . . but I did not anticipate that it would get harder.
2) When I chose to return to the world of the living January before last, I thought that it was a once-for-all-time decision. . . I did not think it would become a fight, sometimes daily.
For the first statement, I am an analyst. I research and look things up and try not to assume that everything applies to everyone but also that nothing applies to me. Yet somehow I'm still surprised when I've seen things like "Mental-health experts estimate it takes about two years for a widow or widower to absorb what has happened and be capable of making major decisions again." and look back and go. . . oh. Well. . . that makes sense. So you read things about how grief changes, and shifts, and ebbs and flows. . . but maybe those were meant to be used as sugar coated synonyms for "harder." "Much harder." I don't know. I do know that I'm still bad about being able to talk about Cam and yet wanting to do that more than anything.
As for the second statement, that has been all the more shocking to me. Not that I thought that everything would just fall completely into place, but I'm an all or nothing type person. Maybe it's just that desire for things to be black or white that helped me to get out of the haze in the first place, but still. . . the haze is there. It probably is emitted from the grief rock, and so if you stop for too long, you find yourself surrounded by it. But the thing about haze is that it's weightless. It's only real power is to keep you from seeing far forward, but once you start moving, things clear up.
I read this a couple mornings ago, the whole chapter is powerful but Eugene Peterson ends the paraphrase of Isaiah 40 this way:
Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.
I feel like I've written this entry in my head over and over and over, and it's finally time to put pen to paper. . . or fingers to keyboard. I forget sometimes that just thinking through things isn't quite enough, that for me at least I need to write things out both to organize and to dump the thoughts, whether it's out there for the world to see or not. I've been taking better care of my body since I've returned from New York, so I need to remember to take care of my mind as well.
I may have said some of this before, but I finally made a connection between two assumptions that are both wrong:
1) I never thought that this journey would get easier. . . but I did not anticipate that it would get harder.
2) When I chose to return to the world of the living January before last, I thought that it was a once-for-all-time decision. . . I did not think it would become a fight, sometimes daily.
For the first statement, I am an analyst. I research and look things up and try not to assume that everything applies to everyone but also that nothing applies to me. Yet somehow I'm still surprised when I've seen things like "Mental-health experts estimate it takes about two years for a widow or widower to absorb what has happened and be capable of making major decisions again." and look back and go. . . oh. Well. . . that makes sense. So you read things about how grief changes, and shifts, and ebbs and flows. . . but maybe those were meant to be used as sugar coated synonyms for "harder." "Much harder." I don't know. I do know that I'm still bad about being able to talk about Cam and yet wanting to do that more than anything.
As for the second statement, that has been all the more shocking to me. Not that I thought that everything would just fall completely into place, but I'm an all or nothing type person. Maybe it's just that desire for things to be black or white that helped me to get out of the haze in the first place, but still. . . the haze is there. It probably is emitted from the grief rock, and so if you stop for too long, you find yourself surrounded by it. But the thing about haze is that it's weightless. It's only real power is to keep you from seeing far forward, but once you start moving, things clear up.
I read this a couple mornings ago, the whole chapter is powerful but Eugene Peterson ends the paraphrase of Isaiah 40 this way:
Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.
8/14/2018
All of the traveling discoveries
The past six weeks have been quite a ride. . . but also strange in a lot of ways. Lots of fun, exciting, new things on the outside, lots of circles being walked around on the inside. I haven't been despondent like I was last fall semester, but I also haven't completely recovered from that. Definitely not where I was in the first part of 2017 (probably this is the closest thing to explain that), but it was those 5-6 months where I finally stepped out of the direct line of the suction away from real life, that place where you transition from 1st person living to 3rd person, the unattached objectivism of just trying to survive. What I didn't realize is that stepping away from that didn't mean that the suction stopped- and I think I didn't realize that I've been slowing been drifting back towards it. It was finally time I spent in New York that helped me get out of that.
But... I'll get to that. Let me tell the stories chronologically, and hopefully concisely, because this will probably be a little longer than I would like.
SO: Right before I went to Belgium, I bought a new car. I wasn't planning to, it had been at the back of my brain, but I went in for an oil change with yet another phone message from the dealership asking if I was interested in selling my car and getting a new one? Two years of that, at least, and after the car fire, it sounded good. But I owe money on the car! How does that work? So I went in and said "if you can give me a car with no down payment and no change in my car payment, then I'll gladly take a new car."
And they did.
The trade in value they assessed was $800 less than what I owed, and there was some promotion where the dealership had cash to put towards new cars, and so I walked out with a 2019 Kia Sorento. I also walked out with a pleasurable experience with the sales associate, who, at the end of our time together (which was probably all of 45 minutes, since I didn't need some crazy test drive and knew I wanted the same model car), said something to the effect of it's so nice to be around a pleasant person. So many people come in here with horrible attitudes and leave angry even when they get a new car, so thank you. I couldn't help but think that, even in all the quagmire of inner wrestling, the hope of Christ still shines.
So a few days later I went to Belgium. Well, I went and spent time with family between getting the car and flying out, but if I write about every single thing that happened, I might as well wait for NaNoWriMo.
Belgium was amazing. My second time at performing internationally, which sounds ridiculous (like. . . who am I??), but both recitals for ClarinetFest went quite well. We were lucky for the solo recital that we were in the conservatory, in a room built for performing, and that actually had air conditioning (as they were in a heat wave, so it was like. . . in the high 70s, so beautiful outside and slightly uncomfortable inside, depending on windows/cross-breeze). The landscape was beautiful, we were right on the NW corner of the country, so sunrise was on the right of the pier at 5:30 AM and sunset was to the left of the pier at 10:30 PM. The food, the environment, the weather, everything was great. And Ostend is not a particularly touristy place, so we actually enjoyed having reasonable prices and not super busy streets. Bruges was beautiful, and Brussels was also pretty but very touristy. It would not have been impossible to go visit a bunch of places, but I really enjoyed staying in town and exploring what was there. Maybe the small town mentality still in me. I actually found a church service in English, which was nice. The one thing I still dream about from the whole experience is the chocolate covered kumquats I found in one of the chocolate shops- they were probably the most unique and tastiest experience I had over the course of my time there.
Came back to Florida for a couple weeks, and then I drove up to Michigan to hang out with family. My nephew is ridiculously big and ridiculously smart (no bias). It was nice to have some midwest summer lazy days, away from the heat, away from the hustle and bustle. I also drove over to Oshawa for the weekend. Kyle and I pretty much tied at mini golf, saved three dinosaurs at Jurassic Park, and just had a good time catching up over poutine (it's so good, you guys). I got to walk around a city that, over a year ago, I wouldn't have given a thought, and I got to worship with people I find myself thinking of multiple times each month. It was good to hear Jared preach, and to catch up with him and Jen.
Lots of driving hours later, I was back in Florida, to turn around 36 hours later to get on a plane to New York (technically New Jersey, I flew into Newark Airport).
I did not expect to react the way that I did.
It was incredible. I spent most of a day walking around Manhattan, several hours of that just hanging out in Central Park, then spending a few hours in Brooklyn (where my AirBnB was located). It probably sounds dumb, but I get it. I understand why someone would want to move there, why so many aspiring performing artists set their goal and risk much to try and make it work. The next day I met up with friends to go to the Met. I love museums, I could have spent an entire day in there and still not have taken in everything. That night I saw my first Broadway show- Waitress- and it was everything I thought it would be. My only real complaint was the saccharine ending where everything got tied up in a neat little bow. To be fair, apparently that's how the movie ends too, so at least they didn't just tack it on unnecessarily, but still. There was such realness near the end of what was surprisingly comedic romp that I thought perhaps there would be a completely relatable end.
That night, and the next morning, I had a realization that came in the form of (what else) a song. "Moment in the Woods." I guess Moment in New York for me. The realization that, yes, there are lots of things I could pursue, there are lots of opportunities, and realistically, I could up and change things for myself without too much trouble.
But I know better.
I've been in the pilot's seat for a little too long, and using the auto-pilot way too much.
It's time to take back second-in-command, and let the Holy Spirit lead.
There are lots more things to write about. Callings, and plans, and living in the nebulous between present, past, and future. . . and I may have a chance to write more later this week. But after a month or so of traveling, I can say one thing for sure-
I'm back.
But... I'll get to that. Let me tell the stories chronologically, and hopefully concisely, because this will probably be a little longer than I would like.
SO: Right before I went to Belgium, I bought a new car. I wasn't planning to, it had been at the back of my brain, but I went in for an oil change with yet another phone message from the dealership asking if I was interested in selling my car and getting a new one? Two years of that, at least, and after the car fire, it sounded good. But I owe money on the car! How does that work? So I went in and said "if you can give me a car with no down payment and no change in my car payment, then I'll gladly take a new car."
And they did.
The trade in value they assessed was $800 less than what I owed, and there was some promotion where the dealership had cash to put towards new cars, and so I walked out with a 2019 Kia Sorento. I also walked out with a pleasurable experience with the sales associate, who, at the end of our time together (which was probably all of 45 minutes, since I didn't need some crazy test drive and knew I wanted the same model car), said something to the effect of it's so nice to be around a pleasant person. So many people come in here with horrible attitudes and leave angry even when they get a new car, so thank you. I couldn't help but think that, even in all the quagmire of inner wrestling, the hope of Christ still shines.
So a few days later I went to Belgium. Well, I went and spent time with family between getting the car and flying out, but if I write about every single thing that happened, I might as well wait for NaNoWriMo.
Belgium was amazing. My second time at performing internationally, which sounds ridiculous (like. . . who am I??), but both recitals for ClarinetFest went quite well. We were lucky for the solo recital that we were in the conservatory, in a room built for performing, and that actually had air conditioning (as they were in a heat wave, so it was like. . . in the high 70s, so beautiful outside and slightly uncomfortable inside, depending on windows/cross-breeze). The landscape was beautiful, we were right on the NW corner of the country, so sunrise was on the right of the pier at 5:30 AM and sunset was to the left of the pier at 10:30 PM. The food, the environment, the weather, everything was great. And Ostend is not a particularly touristy place, so we actually enjoyed having reasonable prices and not super busy streets. Bruges was beautiful, and Brussels was also pretty but very touristy. It would not have been impossible to go visit a bunch of places, but I really enjoyed staying in town and exploring what was there. Maybe the small town mentality still in me. I actually found a church service in English, which was nice. The one thing I still dream about from the whole experience is the chocolate covered kumquats I found in one of the chocolate shops- they were probably the most unique and tastiest experience I had over the course of my time there.
Came back to Florida for a couple weeks, and then I drove up to Michigan to hang out with family. My nephew is ridiculously big and ridiculously smart (no bias). It was nice to have some midwest summer lazy days, away from the heat, away from the hustle and bustle. I also drove over to Oshawa for the weekend. Kyle and I pretty much tied at mini golf, saved three dinosaurs at Jurassic Park, and just had a good time catching up over poutine (it's so good, you guys). I got to walk around a city that, over a year ago, I wouldn't have given a thought, and I got to worship with people I find myself thinking of multiple times each month. It was good to hear Jared preach, and to catch up with him and Jen.
Lots of driving hours later, I was back in Florida, to turn around 36 hours later to get on a plane to New York (technically New Jersey, I flew into Newark Airport).
I did not expect to react the way that I did.
It was incredible. I spent most of a day walking around Manhattan, several hours of that just hanging out in Central Park, then spending a few hours in Brooklyn (where my AirBnB was located). It probably sounds dumb, but I get it. I understand why someone would want to move there, why so many aspiring performing artists set their goal and risk much to try and make it work. The next day I met up with friends to go to the Met. I love museums, I could have spent an entire day in there and still not have taken in everything. That night I saw my first Broadway show- Waitress- and it was everything I thought it would be. My only real complaint was the saccharine ending where everything got tied up in a neat little bow. To be fair, apparently that's how the movie ends too, so at least they didn't just tack it on unnecessarily, but still. There was such realness near the end of what was surprisingly comedic romp that I thought perhaps there would be a completely relatable end.
That night, and the next morning, I had a realization that came in the form of (what else) a song. "Moment in the Woods." I guess Moment in New York for me. The realization that, yes, there are lots of things I could pursue, there are lots of opportunities, and realistically, I could up and change things for myself without too much trouble.
But I know better.
I've been in the pilot's seat for a little too long, and using the auto-pilot way too much.
It's time to take back second-in-command, and let the Holy Spirit lead.
There are lots more things to write about. Callings, and plans, and living in the nebulous between present, past, and future. . . and I may have a chance to write more later this week. But after a month or so of traveling, I can say one thing for sure-
I'm back.
6/28/2018
Psalm 77
I don't think it accidental that this Psalm popped up for me this morning. In many ways, the truth in this Psalm is what I've been trying to convince my heart of, screaming at myself in some ways. . . I had done a sermon on it a little over a year ago, and so I think it appropriate to share today, if only for myself. I've cleaned up some parts of it (in the sense of trying to make complete thoughts- it was just my notes as I worked my way through the passage in order to present it). I'm also almost done with my way through The Message paraphrase, which for this Psalm was particularly striking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Why do we take time to pause and reflect? To take a break. To evaluate what we have accomplished. To celebrate our victories. To learn from our mistakes. To check our future direction. The Bible is full of times where people took times to remember- the Israelites leaving memorial altars as they journeyed from Egypt and stones after crossing the Jordan, even today we have the concept of sharing in the Lord’s supper to remember Jesus last days and his ultimate sacrifice for us, the Psalms consistently have these remembering journeys. It is through remembering God’s work in our lives that we can find encouragement and peace in whatever situation we are facing.
1) Remembering can be painful.
Psalm 77: 1-3- I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands, and I would not be comforted. I remembered you, God, and I groaned; I meditated, and my spirit grew faint.
My soul REFUSED to be comforted. Same word in Genesis 37 (Jacob losing Joseph) and Job 6 (why eat things that make me ill)
4-9 You kept my eyes from closing; I was too troubled to speak. I thought about the former days, the years of long ago; I remembered my songs in the night. My heart meditated and my spirit asked: “Will the Lord reject forever? Will he never show his favor again? Has his unfailing love vanished forever? Has his promise failed for all time? Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has he in anger withheld his compassion?”
(every person can relate to at least one of these questions)
(every person can relate to at least one of these questions)
my spirit asked= a diligent search (looking for the idol in the camp, looking for the silver cup in Benjamin’s bag)
Is His promise clean gone? Has he shut up his tender mercies?
I: Many people keep objects as a memorial of someone. Wedding ring
A: We must not be afraid to engage in remembering even though it may force us to deal with difficult things. It is an important part of the process as we seek to put our trust fully in God in all things.
2) Remembering requires focused thinking.
10-12 Then I thought, “To this I will appeal: the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand. I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
10-12 Then I thought, “To this I will appeal: the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand. I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
the root of that word meditate- to moan, growl, utter, speak, muse.
I: We often think of meditating as those people on a mountain, sitting with their legs crossed and humming. What we miss in this illustration is what their mind is doing- the concept behind meditation is to clear one’s head, often times thought of in a way to escape from the world. For the Christian, there is an important element in that we are not trying to clear our head and check out but instead clear out the distraction and fill it instead with God’s word. What is the Bible but a collection of God’s miracles and works?
A: How we meditate- Phil 4:4-7 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
The outcome of this "recipe"?
The outcome of this "recipe"?
7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
3) Remembering changes our perspective.
E: 13-15 Your ways, God, are holy. What god is as great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples. With your mighty arm you redeemed your people, the descendants of Jacob and Joseph.
Holy- in the sanctuary.
I: There’s a point in every hero story where the protagonist has a realization of what they need to do. Frodo has his resolve in taking the ring to Mordor, Spiderman decides to hide his identity to protect his family, his conversations with Uncle Ben.
This moment is not necessarily the most difficult part though there is difficult, but it is very important, as it defines the rest of the journey. And this does not come in the heat of a moment but after much thinking.
A: “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got.” Sometimes we need to change our way of thinking so that God can affect change in our lives.
4) Remembering should bring us to trust in God’s sovereignty.
16-20 The waters saw you, God, the waters saw you and writhed; the very depths were convulsed. The clouds poured down water, the heavens resounded with thunder; your arrows flashed back and forth. Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind; your lightning lit up the world; the earth trembled and quaked. Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen. You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.
I: Parting the waters refers not only to the Red Sea but also to the beginning of time
A: Each memorial has a purpose. We must always look to God as we attempt to make sense of life.
Ephesians 1:3-14
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and understanding, he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times reach their fulfillment—to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ. In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to put our hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.
Conclusion: Remembering what God has done fuels much of what we do as the church. It is the reason we gather together each Sunday. When we struggle, we need that reminder that God is with us, he hears us, he cares. When hear of the stories of God’s work in others’ lives, we are reminded of His sovereignty and his grace. We get to spend the entirety of our lives trying to wrap our heads around everything God is and does. . . and remembering God’s work helps us to continually process this.
"The joy and praise that saturate the Psalms come not from an absence of problems, but from a deep conviction that a great God can overcome them."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't remember exactly where that last quote comes from. It might be from my study Bible. It's been in my e-mail forever, but without a source. Anyway. . . a different kind of entry. But at the very least, it's a memorial stone for me to return to on this journey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't remember exactly where that last quote comes from. It might be from my study Bible. It's been in my e-mail forever, but without a source. Anyway. . . a different kind of entry. But at the very least, it's a memorial stone for me to return to on this journey.
6/20/2018
All of the nagging question
Next week I’m going to turn 30. And I’m trying to figure out why it’s bothering me so. It’s not like. . . all consuming, the world is ending, I’m past my prime, etc. It’s more just like a nagging, and continues to nag the closer that I get to it. It’s just a number. But I know that a lot of my problem lies in just knowing that I did not imagine my life would be this at 30.
I’ve never been one to think concretely in things like five or ten year plans. I think the best example of that is the fact that I only auditioned for one music school for undergrad and basically had no back-up plan if I hadn’t made it in. Really I think it’s one question that haunts me. It was one thing that for whatever reason I made into a concrete “thing” and now it’s sticking out of the grief rock and into my gut.
“What if I’m a widower before I’m 30?”
It’s been echoing louder and louder. . . and I am not sure why I put that number on it. It could have easily been 40. Or 50. Or 72 1/2. Why put some kind of specific end gate? I don’t know. What are you supposed to think when your fiancée gets a diagnosis of the return a 5 year dormant cancer that suddenly presents in a rare and odd way?
It was a conversation we had. . . a conversation that never really completed, because how can that conversation get completed? It’s a dialogue that only one person can really end up carrying out in the end. I know that she gave some specific tasks to specific people, and I know that some of those have been completed. But to go back to the question, I think that in my mind, even in my darkest dreams, I don’t think I really believed that she would die. Not so soon anyway. Not before our first anniversary. By the time I would be 30, we’d have had a few years together. Celebrated some milestones. Continued to fight the invisible assassin.
Now I’m three and a half years into a new normal that doesn’t look like anything I would have even guessed. And certainly, it is not bad. There is a lot of good things, a lot of amazing people, and continually I am in awe of God’s perfect plan many of the details. But that doesn’t mean I don’t grieve the life that didn’t happen.
I don’t really have a point, except to say that I miss my wife.
I’ve never been one to think concretely in things like five or ten year plans. I think the best example of that is the fact that I only auditioned for one music school for undergrad and basically had no back-up plan if I hadn’t made it in. Really I think it’s one question that haunts me. It was one thing that for whatever reason I made into a concrete “thing” and now it’s sticking out of the grief rock and into my gut.
“What if I’m a widower before I’m 30?”
It’s been echoing louder and louder. . . and I am not sure why I put that number on it. It could have easily been 40. Or 50. Or 72 1/2. Why put some kind of specific end gate? I don’t know. What are you supposed to think when your fiancée gets a diagnosis of the return a 5 year dormant cancer that suddenly presents in a rare and odd way?
It was a conversation we had. . . a conversation that never really completed, because how can that conversation get completed? It’s a dialogue that only one person can really end up carrying out in the end. I know that she gave some specific tasks to specific people, and I know that some of those have been completed. But to go back to the question, I think that in my mind, even in my darkest dreams, I don’t think I really believed that she would die. Not so soon anyway. Not before our first anniversary. By the time I would be 30, we’d have had a few years together. Celebrated some milestones. Continued to fight the invisible assassin.
Now I’m three and a half years into a new normal that doesn’t look like anything I would have even guessed. And certainly, it is not bad. There is a lot of good things, a lot of amazing people, and continually I am in awe of God’s perfect plan many of the details. But that doesn’t mean I don’t grieve the life that didn’t happen.
I don’t really have a point, except to say that I miss my wife.
5/29/2018
All of the changing dreams
I almost wrote this last night. . . but you know when you get into that comfy position, the lights are already out, and even if you are awake thinking still, you know you're going to settle in to the exact physical position you are in?
So yeah. Anyway.
It's been a whirlwind of about 10, 12 days for me. It started with traveling past Disney for the first time in over three years and having a visceral reaction as I made my way towards Tampa. . . a drive I made many times back and forth to Moffitt. . . and from there some strange things happened that I still don't completely have straight in my head. But I know that that was Friday the 11th, and by the 17th depression was at my door. I spent most of the 18th in bed, not sleeping or watching Netflix or doing work or listening to music, just. . . existing at the lowest possible state. A handful of people saw me that Friday, and on Saturday, and they knew something was up, but I couldn't really explain it to them, because I didn't quite understand it myself. But I know that part of it was just recognizing that there's a lot of stuff still buried deep inside me that I haven't explored and/or don't even know exists.
And so I got it in my mind that it is time to start going through the storage unit, a trove of things that I hastily moved out of our house, a semi-organized mountain of things that are mine, hers, and ours, the outer shell of what I am quickly finding to be a multi-layered process. . . so that has been my life for the past few days. I've made five trips and I think I've gotten a little over half the stuff. There are only two more large-ish furniture items left, which is a good thing because our apartment can only hold so much stuff.
Needless to say, it's been an interesting few days.
I don't think I'm at a place to document all of the findings, because what I've discovered is two-fold:
1) There are certain things I want to keep but cannot necessarily handle really dealing with yet
2) There's just a lot of stuff
This first step in the process is quickly becoming about organizing things into keep, sell/donate, and trash. At first I was moving along steadily, maybe because the first set of stuff was easy to work through, but the thing that caught me off guard and slowed me down was finding cards. Cards that I wrote to her that she kept (and she kept every one of them). Cards that she wrote me. Cards that people wrote us for our engagement, wedding, and just at random as we went through cancer treatment. Cards people wrote me and the family after her death. I forgot how many people loved her dearly, and loved me because of her, and vice versa.
Those have absolutely been the hardest artifacts up to now. And it's been hard not to read every single one of them, and it's been hard to make myself read every single one of them. I know that this is a thing that I'm going to have to keep and go back through, because they are things that have grounded me in reality for the first time in a while.
And I think there are many reasons, obvious reasons, that those cards have triggered a lot of feelings. . . but I think the thing that sticks out for me is the lost dreams. Remembering where we were and the plans we were making when we were engaged, and even before when we were coming as our own persons and recognizing that we were going to do life together. . . watching the monkey wrench of leukemia change our wedding date, our honeymoon, our employment, our relationships. . . and ultimately knowing that we had to give up some dreams, but we never gave up on each other.
When people ask "how can I know God is in the midst of all of this?" my answer usually includes something like "there is literally no part of my life right now that I planned on being this way." My call within the Church, where I'm living, what I'm doing currently as a job, the circle of God's family that I'm doing life with, being widowed. . . none of these things were my dreams. If we want to go all the way back, Cam was going to finish her degree and then land a full-time university gig. We'd probably have to adopt, but I'd be the part-time gigging stay at home father. Gig for pleasure, gig for planning ahead, gig for extra Disney cash. We'd be sure to find opportunities to play together, maybe even do some of our own arranging and publish some music. And although some of those dreams had to be given up early on. . . I still miss the thought of them. And we formed new dreams, but they were much shorter term, and we lived some of them. Cam got the wedding she wanted, we bought a house, we shared life between two churches. . .
I have to be careful when I say "nothing I'm doing is what I planned" because it is easy for that to be negative and bitter. And I know sometimes I feel that way. But I am also amazed at how God's hand has been in literally everything, so that I can confidently say "I didn't do any of this, it can only be God." I'm going to be 30 in a month (literally from today), and my plans for where I would be at 30 are not God's plans. I have to trust that His are better. I know that they are, as I've been in Psalm 68 the past couple days, and a few verses stick out to me:
v. 4- 5 Sing to God, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides through the deserts; his name is the Lord; exult before him! Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.
v. 9-10 Rain in abundance, O God, you shed abroad; you restored your inheritance as it languished; your flock found a dwelling in it; in your goodness, O God, you provided for the needy.
v. 19 Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation. (Some translations say "who daily bears our burdens")
v. 34-35 Ascribe power to God, whose majesty is over Israel, and whose power is in the skies. Awesome is God from his sanctuary; the God of Israel—he is the one who gives power and strength to his people. Blessed be God!
May I continue to be able to say "blessed be God!" as I continue to sort through all of the things.
So yeah. Anyway.
It's been a whirlwind of about 10, 12 days for me. It started with traveling past Disney for the first time in over three years and having a visceral reaction as I made my way towards Tampa. . . a drive I made many times back and forth to Moffitt. . . and from there some strange things happened that I still don't completely have straight in my head. But I know that that was Friday the 11th, and by the 17th depression was at my door. I spent most of the 18th in bed, not sleeping or watching Netflix or doing work or listening to music, just. . . existing at the lowest possible state. A handful of people saw me that Friday, and on Saturday, and they knew something was up, but I couldn't really explain it to them, because I didn't quite understand it myself. But I know that part of it was just recognizing that there's a lot of stuff still buried deep inside me that I haven't explored and/or don't even know exists.
And so I got it in my mind that it is time to start going through the storage unit, a trove of things that I hastily moved out of our house, a semi-organized mountain of things that are mine, hers, and ours, the outer shell of what I am quickly finding to be a multi-layered process. . . so that has been my life for the past few days. I've made five trips and I think I've gotten a little over half the stuff. There are only two more large-ish furniture items left, which is a good thing because our apartment can only hold so much stuff.
Needless to say, it's been an interesting few days.
I don't think I'm at a place to document all of the findings, because what I've discovered is two-fold:
1) There are certain things I want to keep but cannot necessarily handle really dealing with yet
2) There's just a lot of stuff
This first step in the process is quickly becoming about organizing things into keep, sell/donate, and trash. At first I was moving along steadily, maybe because the first set of stuff was easy to work through, but the thing that caught me off guard and slowed me down was finding cards. Cards that I wrote to her that she kept (and she kept every one of them). Cards that she wrote me. Cards that people wrote us for our engagement, wedding, and just at random as we went through cancer treatment. Cards people wrote me and the family after her death. I forgot how many people loved her dearly, and loved me because of her, and vice versa.
Those have absolutely been the hardest artifacts up to now. And it's been hard not to read every single one of them, and it's been hard to make myself read every single one of them. I know that this is a thing that I'm going to have to keep and go back through, because they are things that have grounded me in reality for the first time in a while.
And I think there are many reasons, obvious reasons, that those cards have triggered a lot of feelings. . . but I think the thing that sticks out for me is the lost dreams. Remembering where we were and the plans we were making when we were engaged, and even before when we were coming as our own persons and recognizing that we were going to do life together. . . watching the monkey wrench of leukemia change our wedding date, our honeymoon, our employment, our relationships. . . and ultimately knowing that we had to give up some dreams, but we never gave up on each other.
When people ask "how can I know God is in the midst of all of this?" my answer usually includes something like "there is literally no part of my life right now that I planned on being this way." My call within the Church, where I'm living, what I'm doing currently as a job, the circle of God's family that I'm doing life with, being widowed. . . none of these things were my dreams. If we want to go all the way back, Cam was going to finish her degree and then land a full-time university gig. We'd probably have to adopt, but I'd be the part-time gigging stay at home father. Gig for pleasure, gig for planning ahead, gig for extra Disney cash. We'd be sure to find opportunities to play together, maybe even do some of our own arranging and publish some music. And although some of those dreams had to be given up early on. . . I still miss the thought of them. And we formed new dreams, but they were much shorter term, and we lived some of them. Cam got the wedding she wanted, we bought a house, we shared life between two churches. . .
I have to be careful when I say "nothing I'm doing is what I planned" because it is easy for that to be negative and bitter. And I know sometimes I feel that way. But I am also amazed at how God's hand has been in literally everything, so that I can confidently say "I didn't do any of this, it can only be God." I'm going to be 30 in a month (literally from today), and my plans for where I would be at 30 are not God's plans. I have to trust that His are better. I know that they are, as I've been in Psalm 68 the past couple days, and a few verses stick out to me:
v. 4- 5 Sing to God, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides through the deserts; his name is the Lord; exult before him! Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.
v. 9-10 Rain in abundance, O God, you shed abroad; you restored your inheritance as it languished; your flock found a dwelling in it; in your goodness, O God, you provided for the needy.
v. 19 Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation. (Some translations say "who daily bears our burdens")
v. 34-35 Ascribe power to God, whose majesty is over Israel, and whose power is in the skies. Awesome is God from his sanctuary; the God of Israel—he is the one who gives power and strength to his people. Blessed be God!
May I continue to be able to say "blessed be God!" as I continue to sort through all of the things.
5/11/2018
All of the unexpected things
So I was gearing up to write something about running, and I probably will sometime after the race, but as I travelled across the state, something unexpected happened. First, I stopped at Disney, which surprisingly enough was not in my original plans. I hadn't thought past "hey, you're going to be driving on Friday!" and when I put the address in my phone, I saw I was taking I-95 S to I-4 W to I-75 S. Sooooooo yay for random Disney trip! I didn't stay too long, because I didn't want to tax my legs too much. It was after leaving Disney that it happened.
I forgot.
I haven't driven past Disney in over three years, and I discovered that I forgot.
I forgot how many times I had driven down the corridor between DeLand and Tampa.
I forgot what a significant portion of my and Cam's life together was spent traveling that stretch of road.
I forgot about the countless trips, many alone, sometimes silent, sometimes screaming, sometimes praying, always crying out.
I forgot about knowing the way without looking at a map.
I forgot about Dinosaur World.
I forgot about the times where my arms went numb from holding so tight to the steering wheel, as if somehow that was what would give me control.
I forgot. . . I forgot. . .
And isn't that the ultimate fear? That someday you'll just. . . forget everything? It doesn't make any sense, but it's a real thought. But also. . . it made me realize that there's a lot inside me that I am totally unaware of. Being stable and being healed are not the same thing.
But while I was having this realization/meltdown, this is the song that was in the background:
And I wept. Which. . . never bothers me. Actually it bothers me when it's been a while, and actually I was recently thinking that I haven't cried in a while. Like, at all this 2018. It's not necessarily odd, because I've never been much for that, but. . . anyway, I was crying for two reasons. One part was just living in the reminiscing, the realization of how much life happened in such a short time and how much that I don't seem to currently have access to without some kind of trigger. The other part though was in remembering that I'm not alone on this journey and I never was. It was good, overwhelmingly good, to remember that God really is sovereign, that He has been orchestrating this journey from the beginning, not just three years ago or five years ago or even 29 years ago. . . but always. And He is bringing glory to Himself through it.
And I get to play a part in presenting that glory to a broken world who desperately needs salvation.
So I'm asking myself questions. . . or rather. . . I'm taking time to answer questions that have already been asked. I'm trying too hard and waiting too long. It's time to really start jumping back in.
And there's nothing to be afraid of, because I know Who leads me.
I forgot.
I haven't driven past Disney in over three years, and I discovered that I forgot.
I forgot how many times I had driven down the corridor between DeLand and Tampa.
I forgot what a significant portion of my and Cam's life together was spent traveling that stretch of road.
I forgot about the countless trips, many alone, sometimes silent, sometimes screaming, sometimes praying, always crying out.
I forgot about knowing the way without looking at a map.
I forgot about Dinosaur World.
I forgot about the times where my arms went numb from holding so tight to the steering wheel, as if somehow that was what would give me control.
I forgot. . . I forgot. . .
And isn't that the ultimate fear? That someday you'll just. . . forget everything? It doesn't make any sense, but it's a real thought. But also. . . it made me realize that there's a lot inside me that I am totally unaware of. Being stable and being healed are not the same thing.
But while I was having this realization/meltdown, this is the song that was in the background:
And I wept. Which. . . never bothers me. Actually it bothers me when it's been a while, and actually I was recently thinking that I haven't cried in a while. Like, at all this 2018. It's not necessarily odd, because I've never been much for that, but. . . anyway, I was crying for two reasons. One part was just living in the reminiscing, the realization of how much life happened in such a short time and how much that I don't seem to currently have access to without some kind of trigger. The other part though was in remembering that I'm not alone on this journey and I never was. It was good, overwhelmingly good, to remember that God really is sovereign, that He has been orchestrating this journey from the beginning, not just three years ago or five years ago or even 29 years ago. . . but always. And He is bringing glory to Himself through it.
And I get to play a part in presenting that glory to a broken world who desperately needs salvation.
So I'm asking myself questions. . . or rather. . . I'm taking time to answer questions that have already been asked. I'm trying too hard and waiting too long. It's time to really start jumping back in.
And there's nothing to be afraid of, because I know Who leads me.
4/15/2018
ALL OF THE THINGS (but mostly I'm graduating)
Not really. . . but in some ways it feels like it. I have been putting off writing this not because I don't want to work through it, but there were still some tiny pieces that were shifting around in my brain, and now I think I mostly have everything sorted out enough to work through sorting it out, if that makes sense. Also, I know there's a lot more in my head than what I'm about to write, but I'm trying to keep everything in a comprehensive narrative. (Basically, I'm hoping to write a few entries over the next couple of weeks that really cover all of the things).
So, I recently completed all the requirements of my Master's degree and will officially graduate on May 5 (which, if you are in the Jacksonville area and have nothing better to do at 9:30 AM on a Saturday, come out to Trinity, I'm pretty sure it's free and there's no assigned seating)! It took three years, as I began the journey in May of 2015.
But really, this journey began February 8th, 2015.
Cam's funeral was 2/7/15, and even going back to read some of my private writings. . . there are pieces I can relive quite clearly and other pieces that are still blurry. But that Sunday, the day after, there was a clear call from God- love Me the way you loved your wife. I can't remember the exact place I was in when I felt this, I am glad I documented it though, even if at the time I didn't recognize how deep that search was going to go (and still continues to go). Because I was at an empty place in life. My identity, wrapped up in roles, was gone, and I had to completely follow God. I don't have definite proof, but I am 90% sure it was around the 27th that I began looking into pursuing a degree. I know by mid-March I had told my in-laws that I was going to Trinity and move to Jacksonville, so it was a quick turn around. I had gotten into the program and began taking online classes in May, just before my last month of teaching (ever?) ended.
I'm skipping ahead a little bit because I'm already feeling long-winded, but it was early July that I got both an audition scheduled at JU and met Matt and led music at Grace Life for the first time. At that time, I figured I was only around for a little while at Grace Life, helping out in a tough situation but hoping to land somewhere more established and bigger so that I could heal hide. For a little while I tried to get away by looking for churches that would pay me (as I was working at Wal-Mart until the university job kicked in), but none of it ever worked out. And I was still actively taking classes.
And. . . again, fast forward a lot but here I am, completing the degree and still a part of Grace Life. And it is here in this moment that I need to clear up a few misconceptions/inadvertent lies. First, even though I have completed my degree, I have no intention of moving back to central Florida. I mean, I sold our house about a year ago. But more importantly, I have finally began to really see all of those things I was seeking from God, my identity and role and purpose and calling. Second, I have no specific "use" for my degree from a career standpoint. The pursuit of this Master's degree was never really to launch me into a specific place but at it's core initiation just a crazy man jumping into the arms of God and not knowing where it would lead me. Third, there may be more schooling in the future. . . but not the immediate future. Right now I'm trying to get my heart and mind focused on what is truly important.
Romans 8:28- And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.
I am not perfect. I have not handled every step of the last 3+ years well. I still have plenty to learn, and even more to apply. But I know that God is good and does good. I also have never believed in coincidences. I believe rather in the sovereign working of a God who cares about all the details and actively engages in our lives. Why am I saying this now?
Grace Life Church had her launch Sunday on February 8th, 2015.
You can't ask for anything cooler than that.
So, I recently completed all the requirements of my Master's degree and will officially graduate on May 5 (which, if you are in the Jacksonville area and have nothing better to do at 9:30 AM on a Saturday, come out to Trinity, I'm pretty sure it's free and there's no assigned seating)! It took three years, as I began the journey in May of 2015.
But really, this journey began February 8th, 2015.
Cam's funeral was 2/7/15, and even going back to read some of my private writings. . . there are pieces I can relive quite clearly and other pieces that are still blurry. But that Sunday, the day after, there was a clear call from God- love Me the way you loved your wife. I can't remember the exact place I was in when I felt this, I am glad I documented it though, even if at the time I didn't recognize how deep that search was going to go (and still continues to go). Because I was at an empty place in life. My identity, wrapped up in roles, was gone, and I had to completely follow God. I don't have definite proof, but I am 90% sure it was around the 27th that I began looking into pursuing a degree. I know by mid-March I had told my in-laws that I was going to Trinity and move to Jacksonville, so it was a quick turn around. I had gotten into the program and began taking online classes in May, just before my last month of teaching (ever?) ended.
I'm skipping ahead a little bit because I'm already feeling long-winded, but it was early July that I got both an audition scheduled at JU and met Matt and led music at Grace Life for the first time. At that time, I figured I was only around for a little while at Grace Life, helping out in a tough situation but hoping to land somewhere more established and bigger so that I could
And. . . again, fast forward a lot but here I am, completing the degree and still a part of Grace Life. And it is here in this moment that I need to clear up a few misconceptions/inadvertent lies. First, even though I have completed my degree, I have no intention of moving back to central Florida. I mean, I sold our house about a year ago. But more importantly, I have finally began to really see all of those things I was seeking from God, my identity and role and purpose and calling. Second, I have no specific "use" for my degree from a career standpoint. The pursuit of this Master's degree was never really to launch me into a specific place but at it's core initiation just a crazy man jumping into the arms of God and not knowing where it would lead me. Third, there may be more schooling in the future. . . but not the immediate future. Right now I'm trying to get my heart and mind focused on what is truly important.
Romans 8:28- And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.
I am not perfect. I have not handled every step of the last 3+ years well. I still have plenty to learn, and even more to apply. But I know that God is good and does good. I also have never believed in coincidences. I believe rather in the sovereign working of a God who cares about all the details and actively engages in our lives. Why am I saying this now?
Grace Life Church had her launch Sunday on February 8th, 2015.
You can't ask for anything cooler than that.
3/11/2018
Rhythm Pyramids
This post has been long in coming, but between my crazy Jan/Feb and needing to keep open mental space for all of the music I've had to learn as of late, it has just been simmering in the background. Also, the couple of times I've tried to sit down and write I'm just completely empty in figuring out how to describe things, and the other problem is that I needed to find an analogy that would help me be able to tell multiple stories. So today something finally clicked and now I have specific imagery that at least makes sense to me.
So I've been making some intentional changes in life again, as people often do when a new year starts. Something happened in the fall, and my life started falling apart behind the scenes. I did finally figure out what it was about a month ago (because I am a firm believer that every emotional discharge has a root cause. . . more on what happened later), but what was happening and what I'm doing now is best described as thus:
Imagine that your life is a big flat room full of pyramids. Each of the different parts of life is represented by a different pyramid (relationships, work, hobbies, family, church, entertainment, whatever). These pyramids aren't on a flat face though- they are each balancing on a point. I originally came up with this idea when I was in college, that life is basically you running around and trying to keep these pyramids from falling over. When you have a balanced life, all the pyramids are more or less standing on their own, and you just go and fix the ones that start to topple. However, when you start to let one lean too far, and you have to put the effort to fix that thing, other pyramids start falling. While it is not the end of the world to let a pyramid fall down completely, trying to get it back up from zero is very difficult and ultimately will just continue to spiral out of control.
But there's more to just you trying to balance the pyramids. You also fill the pyramids (this is the new idea that hit me today). And when you fill the pyramids with the right things, they stay balanced better because the inside of it has the arrangement of priorities and tasks correct. But when you load it incorrectly, it topples out of control much faster.
A lot of what I've been doing since Cam died was just getting all those pyramids back up. It would take a great deal of personal reflection for me to analyze where I'm at in that process. . . but I think I can safely say that 90-95% of the pyramids are up. Maybe they all are, I'm not sure. But a lot of those pyramids I have filled with the wrong things, or in the wrong way, and I know that's the case because of what happened this fall. The hurricane hit in September, and while it messed me up a little financially (a week and a half off of work when you are self-employed as a performer is huge) it physically messed up my room when it flooded. Being forced to move all my stuff out of the room, once the carpet was replaced and the water was gone, I went ahead and did some cleaning/purging/reorganizing (because, why not?). And that is where the trouble began, because I found so much regalia and mementos of things that I have kept with me but had not really looked at in two years. And while reminiscing and remembering is an important thing, I found myself just grieving in isolation. And I started carrying that un-dealt with grief and leaving pieces of it in all the pyramids.
And so the pyramids all got way out of balance.
So what I've been trying to do the past couple months is to put healthy rhythms back into the pyramids. Replacing self-pity with outward focus. Replacing angry questions with thanksgiving. Replacing bitterness with joy. And I'm still figuring these things out. Some things are easier to change or give up or replace than others, and I'm still struggling with a few things that look helpful but really just keep making the pyramid tumble back and forth. But the big factor is going back to doing things God's way. Because doing it my way doesn't work. Simple things like reading the Bible daily becomes less of a chore and more of a joy when you stop accusing God of being hands off when the truth is that you've just been doing things on your own and not allowing Him to speak into your life.
I'm not sure if I've said it here before but I've been reading through The Message and it's been really good- so things like Psalm 56:8 get a whole new flavor:
You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.
God cares so deeply for me, for everyone. . . and it doesn't make sense. But because of His love we can hope to say,
"God, you did everything you promised, and I’m thanking you with all my heart. You pulled me from the brink of death, my feet from the cliff-edge of doom. Now I stroll at leisure with God in the sunlit fields of life." (Psalm 56:12-13 MSG)
So I've been making some intentional changes in life again, as people often do when a new year starts. Something happened in the fall, and my life started falling apart behind the scenes. I did finally figure out what it was about a month ago (because I am a firm believer that every emotional discharge has a root cause. . . more on what happened later), but what was happening and what I'm doing now is best described as thus:
Imagine that your life is a big flat room full of pyramids. Each of the different parts of life is represented by a different pyramid (relationships, work, hobbies, family, church, entertainment, whatever). These pyramids aren't on a flat face though- they are each balancing on a point. I originally came up with this idea when I was in college, that life is basically you running around and trying to keep these pyramids from falling over. When you have a balanced life, all the pyramids are more or less standing on their own, and you just go and fix the ones that start to topple. However, when you start to let one lean too far, and you have to put the effort to fix that thing, other pyramids start falling. While it is not the end of the world to let a pyramid fall down completely, trying to get it back up from zero is very difficult and ultimately will just continue to spiral out of control.
But there's more to just you trying to balance the pyramids. You also fill the pyramids (this is the new idea that hit me today). And when you fill the pyramids with the right things, they stay balanced better because the inside of it has the arrangement of priorities and tasks correct. But when you load it incorrectly, it topples out of control much faster.
A lot of what I've been doing since Cam died was just getting all those pyramids back up. It would take a great deal of personal reflection for me to analyze where I'm at in that process. . . but I think I can safely say that 90-95% of the pyramids are up. Maybe they all are, I'm not sure. But a lot of those pyramids I have filled with the wrong things, or in the wrong way, and I know that's the case because of what happened this fall. The hurricane hit in September, and while it messed me up a little financially (a week and a half off of work when you are self-employed as a performer is huge) it physically messed up my room when it flooded. Being forced to move all my stuff out of the room, once the carpet was replaced and the water was gone, I went ahead and did some cleaning/purging/reorganizing (because, why not?). And that is where the trouble began, because I found so much regalia and mementos of things that I have kept with me but had not really looked at in two years. And while reminiscing and remembering is an important thing, I found myself just grieving in isolation. And I started carrying that un-dealt with grief and leaving pieces of it in all the pyramids.
And so the pyramids all got way out of balance.
So what I've been trying to do the past couple months is to put healthy rhythms back into the pyramids. Replacing self-pity with outward focus. Replacing angry questions with thanksgiving. Replacing bitterness with joy. And I'm still figuring these things out. Some things are easier to change or give up or replace than others, and I'm still struggling with a few things that look helpful but really just keep making the pyramid tumble back and forth. But the big factor is going back to doing things God's way. Because doing it my way doesn't work. Simple things like reading the Bible daily becomes less of a chore and more of a joy when you stop accusing God of being hands off when the truth is that you've just been doing things on your own and not allowing Him to speak into your life.
I'm not sure if I've said it here before but I've been reading through The Message and it's been really good- so things like Psalm 56:8 get a whole new flavor:
You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.
God cares so deeply for me, for everyone. . . and it doesn't make sense. But because of His love we can hope to say,
"God, you did everything you promised, and I’m thanking you with all my heart. You pulled me from the brink of death, my feet from the cliff-edge of doom. Now I stroll at leisure with God in the sunlit fields of life." (Psalm 56:12-13 MSG)
1/19/2018
Spring has sprung
It may be LESS THAN 40 DEGREES OUTSIDE (!!!! actually I don't hate it, it's just odd), but for me, spring has definitely began. That special time of year where I work basically every day. Part of it is because I like to stay busy. Part of it is choice/figuring out life, because I know while I will make lots of money in the spring, I will not make very much money in the summer, and so, like the coke-induced nut gathering of the squirrels, I'm preparing my stock.
So mostly I am writing this to remind myself to keep margin, to make time for important things and not give up habits that I've been developing for the past few weeks, to breathe, to look for God opportunities, but mostly, to not complain. I literally get to go around and make music for a living (LIVE!!!!), and while it's not always the most amazing thing, it certainly isn't a bad thing.
I just have to remember that, when I look at my calendar and see that I don't have a day off for several weeks in a row. . . I did it to myself. And this has been the norm for the past couple of years. I'm just not mentally ready for it. . . or rather, I am almost ready for it, but it kind of snuck up on me.
I'm just rambling. . . mostly because I need to go to bed, but I also am getting off the show high so I'm not going to be able to sleep for a little bit.
So mostly I am writing this to remind myself to keep margin, to make time for important things and not give up habits that I've been developing for the past few weeks, to breathe, to look for God opportunities, but mostly, to not complain. I literally get to go around and make music for a living (LIVE!!!!), and while it's not always the most amazing thing, it certainly isn't a bad thing.
I just have to remember that, when I look at my calendar and see that I don't have a day off for several weeks in a row. . . I did it to myself. And this has been the norm for the past couple of years. I'm just not mentally ready for it. . . or rather, I am almost ready for it, but it kind of snuck up on me.
I'm just rambling. . . mostly because I need to go to bed, but I also am getting off the show high so I'm not going to be able to sleep for a little bit.
1/10/2018
Another marathon
As I stated in a previous post, my experience in running marathons tends to be representative of the year that led up to it. My time for this year was 5:21:07, my second best time, and in so many ways that overall result fits well. This past year was a year that I choose to engage in life again, not to just float through and complete tasks, but to be alive. And making that shift had great results. . . but it was not without its difficulties. I lost weight, ran two half marathons (1:59 and 2:08), got to spend a week in Canada with another church plant, kept up a 4.0 on the master's degree, made new friends. . . from an eagle-eye perspective, the total outcome of the year was very positive.
But let's break the comparison down even further.
During the first half of the race I was running about a 10-minute mile for quite a while, which is about right for me as I spent more months of the year running than not. I kept that pace until somewhere between mile 14 and 15, where I finally stopped to walk. I attempted to run when it felt OK, but around 17 I was "done." I walked most of the next two miles, not miserably, but with pain and difficulty. I ran some between 19 and 21, and then walked most of the rest of the race until I passed marker 25, which I then ran almost that whole final mile.
My year started out well- I lost weight, I got engaged in the Word and with Grace Life, I was balancing a lot of things at once but never completely overwhelmed. Things were good through the first part of the summer. . . and then Heather died (mile 14). I think that was really the first big blow to my emotional/mental state. But, in spite of the pain, I kept going (miles 15-17). But then the fall (miles 17-25). . . maybe recognizing at Cam's birthday that I had out-survived her (which, when I just typed that, my reaction was visceral. . . so yeah, probably that) (also, why my brain is weird and didn't think about it until then, I couldn't tell you, but seems par for the course), fighting the crazy battles at church as we sought to pray and disciple our people, none of this stopped me completely but certainly was difficult. And then it all came crashing down, and I'm not still sure exactly why. . . the "wall" of depression, anger, loneliness, it all compiled. . . . but this past couple of weeks, I've rallied (mile 26). Not that everything is fixed, not that life is not without pain. . . but I'm not lost in a quagmire of lies and inner death. Not waking up in the morning and telling myself "no one cares about you" or "there's no results to your labor."
And so this year, the question I'm asking myself is: how do I deal with pain?
I mean it in two perspectives- what is it that I actually do, and what do I need to do differently?
I've started to recognize that, as much as my mind enjoys staying busy, it is absolutely a way of coping more than it is a lifestyle I truly enjoy. Because I do enjoy it. . . when it's a couple weeks at a time. I thrive in the 85% full calendar, a place with margin but greatly filled with activity. And when I objectively find 85%, things are great. But when things aren't great. . . I stretch that 85 into 90, 95, 98. . . and pretend like it's normal. And for four or five weeks out of the year, sure, that can work. But I stop saying "no" when I'm upset because doing things keeps me from thinking about processing. Because then I convince myself I don't have to deal with anything; there's no time. The problem is sometimes that works. . . but most of the time it does not.
So what do I need to do differently?
That new thing that happened at this race. . . the running at the end. . . it's very much reminiscent of Isaiah 43:
“Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands. Wild animals will say ‘Thank you!’—the coyotes and the buzzards—because I provided water in the desert, rivers through the sun-baked earth, drinking water for the people I chose, the people I made especially for myself, a people custom-made to praise me."
(I started reading through the Message at some point last year, partially to give me a little different perspective on Scripture and partially as an attempt to keep myself slipping into the hole I still ended up in, but actually it's been great)
So I see the new thing. . . and what I have to do is go to it. Jump on board. Run to it. Ignore all the other distractions. Plunge myself into the nourishment I know I need and know is the only true Source.
My word for this year: rooted.
But let's break the comparison down even further.
During the first half of the race I was running about a 10-minute mile for quite a while, which is about right for me as I spent more months of the year running than not. I kept that pace until somewhere between mile 14 and 15, where I finally stopped to walk. I attempted to run when it felt OK, but around 17 I was "done." I walked most of the next two miles, not miserably, but with pain and difficulty. I ran some between 19 and 21, and then walked most of the rest of the race until I passed marker 25, which I then ran almost that whole final mile.
My year started out well- I lost weight, I got engaged in the Word and with Grace Life, I was balancing a lot of things at once but never completely overwhelmed. Things were good through the first part of the summer. . . and then Heather died (mile 14). I think that was really the first big blow to my emotional/mental state. But, in spite of the pain, I kept going (miles 15-17). But then the fall (miles 17-25). . . maybe recognizing at Cam's birthday that I had out-survived her (which, when I just typed that, my reaction was visceral. . . so yeah, probably that) (also, why my brain is weird and didn't think about it until then, I couldn't tell you, but seems par for the course), fighting the crazy battles at church as we sought to pray and disciple our people, none of this stopped me completely but certainly was difficult. And then it all came crashing down, and I'm not still sure exactly why. . . the "wall" of depression, anger, loneliness, it all compiled. . . . but this past couple of weeks, I've rallied (mile 26). Not that everything is fixed, not that life is not without pain. . . but I'm not lost in a quagmire of lies and inner death. Not waking up in the morning and telling myself "no one cares about you" or "there's no results to your labor."
And so this year, the question I'm asking myself is: how do I deal with pain?
I mean it in two perspectives- what is it that I actually do, and what do I need to do differently?
I've started to recognize that, as much as my mind enjoys staying busy, it is absolutely a way of coping more than it is a lifestyle I truly enjoy. Because I do enjoy it. . . when it's a couple weeks at a time. I thrive in the 85% full calendar, a place with margin but greatly filled with activity. And when I objectively find 85%, things are great. But when things aren't great. . . I stretch that 85 into 90, 95, 98. . . and pretend like it's normal. And for four or five weeks out of the year, sure, that can work. But I stop saying "no" when I'm upset because doing things keeps me from thinking about processing. Because then I convince myself I don't have to deal with anything; there's no time. The problem is sometimes that works. . . but most of the time it does not.
So what do I need to do differently?
That new thing that happened at this race. . . the running at the end. . . it's very much reminiscent of Isaiah 43:
“Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands. Wild animals will say ‘Thank you!’—the coyotes and the buzzards—because I provided water in the desert, rivers through the sun-baked earth, drinking water for the people I chose, the people I made especially for myself, a people custom-made to praise me."
(I started reading through the Message at some point last year, partially to give me a little different perspective on Scripture and partially as an attempt to keep myself slipping into the hole I still ended up in, but actually it's been great)
So I see the new thing. . . and what I have to do is go to it. Jump on board. Run to it. Ignore all the other distractions. Plunge myself into the nourishment I know I need and know is the only true Source.
My word for this year: rooted.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
