Oh soul are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There's light for a look at the Savior
and life more abundant and free.
I have learned, over the past decade of struggle to only allow myself to feel the things that I'm capable of handling. I intentionally remove myself from situations that will put me on a collision course with my reality. I can't tell you how many times I've blogged through tears, blown my nose and washed my face and let it go.
Letting go is healthy, to some degree... but in my avoidance of feelings, I've shut myself off, somewhat, from the world. People call and I don't answer. People text and I don't respond. The simple question, "how are you?" is, most of the time, unanswerable for me, especially if I know that the other person truly cares because then, I run the risk of breaking down.
I am hurt. I am hurting. I am not issuing invitations to my pity party because (in my mind) people don't want to hear it and even if they do, I DON'T WANT TO SAY IT. I feel like Job. (not job -as in employed, Job, as in the afflicted character from the Bible). I feel like I have to offer up a blessed, "God is in control" or some other positive platitude to counter the reality of what I am feeling so that people don't feel sorry for me.
I had a job that I loved. I had a lot of pain there, without a doubt but I loved helping with our customers.
For twenty six years I have been a mother. I have been dealing with the public school system since 1992. Even when my marriages have failed, I have always had the nonstop responsibility for someone under the age of 18. They were my constant companions. They rolled with the punches (and there were many "punches") and gave me a reason to get up in the morning. That stage of life is over.
I have no desire to meet a nice man and settle down. There are a few who are interested in me and I keep them at arm's length. I don't want to risk allowing someone into my life and them deciding that I'm not who they want. I can't risk another rejection.
My body has failed me and I have failed my body. I indulged more than I should and carried more weight than my spine could handle and I am now weak and in pain and unable to do the basic things I need to do to provide a clean, safe environment for myself and my adult child (who still needs me). I don't want to be one of those people whose entire life is shaped by disability. I want to be able to walk in the woods, sit at a desk all day (if necessary), travel and shop and embrace life without having to frame it all in the context of "will this hurt?".
I have lost my financial independence. I have lost what little bit of security I had. I can't depend on my physical strength. I have lost my definition of wife, mother, employee. I don't really know who I am right now. I don't know where we will live, where (or if) I will work. And despite my strong belief that God IS in control (I don't just say it, I really do believe it) I am wandering in the desert and don't really know how to find my way.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus look full in His wonderful face and the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.
God has a unique way of dealing with me. Perhaps it isn't all that unique. When I am truly meditating, voicing my concerns and fears and frustrations, opening my heart to the One Who Already Knows what is in there, He never fails to give me something to hold on to. It may be a passage of scripture. It may be a song. It may be just a thought or something I've heard taught. But when I listen, He gives me an earworm. (something that gets stuck in your head, like a song you heard on the radio).
I have to confess that over the last month or so, I haven't been talking to God as much as I used to. Odd, to think that in this time that I have needed Him so much more, I have been less willing to go to Him. It's the raw feeling of failure that I don't want to address, even with the One Who Already Knows. I don't want to go there. I don't want to say, "God, I'm disappointed. God, I'm afraid. God, I'm grieving the loss of the life I knew. God, I feel abandoned and alone. Please don't make me feel what I'm really feeling".
His Word shall not fail you, He promised, believe Him and all will be well. Then go to a world that is dying, His perfect salvation to tell:
Turn - don't ignore your pain, give it to Him
Look - don't be afraid to open your heart, He sees it already
And the things - things that are temporary, this too shall pass
of this earth
Not by what I can see, not by what I already know, but by the grace of the One Who Went Before Me, who knows my pain already because He has carried it to the cross. He who has lovingly caught every tear that has fallen from my eyes and healed the hurts inside me, both physical and emotional, acknowledged or pushed aside.
This Whiny Wednesday, I'm turning my eyes upon Jesus. Love and hugs, y'all.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Oh soul are you weary and troubled?
Posted by Heather at 8:38 AM