What do you do when the answer is wait. For months now, the only answer I get is wait. I’m not good at waiting, patience is a virtue, but it’s not one I possess. I am grateful for an answer and not silence but waiting is killing me. I obsess and I don’t eat or sleep. I obsess and make myself sick. Wait… I try to find a way around Him. Wait…I try to find something to occupy my time. Wait… my head and heart scream with frustration. Wait. *sigh* Wait, I must.
We are all called. Whether or not we answer the call is another subject altogether. We talk and pray and wait for an answer. How often do we get an answer, but we aren’t listening. In the past, I have listened and I have heard and I have ignored. I have prayed for changes, prayed for peace, prayed for healing for others. I have been called to work for God, to serve Him. I know how, and right now I know where, but the question is whether or not I will serve elsewhere, in a larger capacity… I think so. I have asked and prayed and pleaded for a love to come into my life. A love that would also live for Him, serve Him, a love that I would be able to love and serve as we serve Him together… so far nothing, but a wait… it’s an answer, but at the age of 29 (well, 29 in a day), wait is not the answer I’m looking for. I must first learn to be obedient to Him, learn to be obedient to God, the Father… the Father, I have in the past been so quick to disobey, quick to ignore, quick to walk away from. The answer I’ve been waiting for… wait and learn obedience and then perhaps. *Sigh* So I teach to pass the time, I change programs at the church for the kids, I start new studies for kids with a friend. I write, I work, I cry, I pray. Obedience and patience… never my two strong points. So I take walks and talk with God, I take walks and think through life, I send messages to my dearest Melissa friend, I have breakfast with my Sarah friend and I wait… Obedience and patience, obedience and patience, obedience and patience… it becomes my mantra. I’m held here in limbo, as my Melissa friend (http://onbruisedknees.wordpress.com/) recently said, I’m somewhere and nowhere all at the same time, waiting… I’m called to serve, to teach, I’m told to wait… Obedience and patience, Obedience and patience… and all I can do is repeat the phrase and walk by faith.
There is a question on my heart, a prayer on my lips. I dare not speak to others what my heart needs to know. Whatever the answer to this prayer, the result will be life changing. I live now as a woman with divided loyalties… a woman with a heart torn between two places. The desire to be firmly rooted in the place I know, but to also spread my wings and fly far away. To leave here would be to leave the church that has molded me into who I am now and the children I teach and help guide. To leave here would bring new adventures and excitement my life has not yet known. To stay here will mean the same routine day in and day out. To stay means continuing to live under the rule of the family and not ever be completely my own person. Staying means that everything changes but nothing changes. It’s a path only God can help me determine, a path only He knows which I should choose. The prayers go up multiple times a day and waiting for the answer means patience. Oh, the need for patience, the virtue of which I have very little. There is a question on my heart, a prayer on my lips. I’m waiting for the life changing result.
Everyday is a struggle to find the good in life, the good in people, the good God intended for us to see. At some point in this journey through life, our innocence is lost. I believe it is that loss that prevents so many of us from reveling in the simple things in life. While I have not by any means found my lost innocence, I have found a peace about my life that allows the smallest and most simple things in life to shine out in the darkness. However, I still have not found my ability to view the world through the eyes of a child who see only God’s beauty and greatness in everything.
I have posted about the kids in my class at church that have saved me time and time again over the last 9 months. There is one in particular who has touched my heart and just makes me wish I could see the world through her eyes if even just for a day. This girl is an amazing kid. She is sweet and has such a soft heart. When she wraps me up in hugs on Saturday mornings after our women’s Bible study or on Sundays my heart just melts. This is a child who would give you everything she had if you needed it. This is a child who instead of thinking of herself first like many do, thinks of others. She has more patience than anyone I know, soft-spoken, and such a heart for people and for God. I know where she has learned it, she has learned it from her family. She watches, she takes it all in, she learns the important lessons from the people who can show her best.
I know they can teach her the way to walk with God, because I know her family. I am blessed to have her mother as a dear, dear friend who has stood by me through the trials of the last 9 months, who has been one of the three wonderful friends in my life who has taught me it’s okay to cry. She has a mother that I am completely transparent with and who holds me accountable. And I love to watch this girl as she interacts with her friends (I believe at last count she thought it was probably somewhere in the hundreds) or her brothers, love to hear her answers to questions in class, watch her cheer during Upward; this girl despite being so young knows what is important in life. She sees beyond what others her age see.
As I hugged her this morning and I held on to this girl that every part of me wished I could just take home with me, I realized I wish I could see the world as a child sees it. I wish I could see this world with the innocence of a child again, only knowing what I’m seeing, what I need to be thankful for, realizing this vast creation holds so much joy despite the trials. As I hugged this dear girl, I realized that while I may not have my child, and for the first time here I’m going to say that I am so convinced in my heart that my baby was a girl, so that while I may not have child, my baby, my Rayleigh (Asher if it had been a boy) here with me, I have these kids that I am so much a part of their lives throughout the year. And while it will never come close to being able to love my own child, I have kids, I have so many kids and I love each and every one of them. And my blonde haired, sweet, soft spoken, soft hearted girl will one day grow up and I can know that I had a bigger part in her life than I probably realize and she will have taught me more as a 2nd grader than any one else could have as an adult.
I haven’t prayed much this week. And by much, I mean at all. The last time God and I had a conversation, I was angry and was in no mood to blow smoke at Him about how wonderfully, powerful He is. I was in no mood to tell him that he is the Lord Almighty and it is because of Him that my life has all of the blessings it has. Let me be clear here… I WAS NOT IN THE MOOD! It’s May, 9 months after my miscarriage; the first weekend in May I had to let go of my 2nd graders in Kids Worship (downer #1), then Saturday was my niece’s birthday party (I began to unravel while driving home from picking up cakepops from a friend), Sunday was Mother’s Day (the icing on the crap cake that has been my life this month). I almost didn’t go to church knowing they were going to celebrate mothers, but I went. I almost walked in late to miss the video and the baby dedication, but I didn’t. I almost walked out in the middle of the video, but I didn’t. I sat and I bit my tongue to keep from crying and I suffered through it… Yes, I SUFFERED through it. So when it came time for Communion, I was NOT IN THE MOOD! My last conversation with God went a little something like this:
“Dear Lord, I am well aware there is a reason it happened, I may never know the reason, I’m not even sure I want to know the reason. I do know right now I hate you for it though.”
There you have it. Didn’t even feel the need to throw in a thanks for all you’ve done. Nope, not gonna do it. I’m going to be angry was the only thing I could think and I have been. I’m slowly getting over. I’ve been told I need to be sure to start talking to God again. And apparently, I need to apologize. *Sigh* I’m not good at apologizing… I may not have meant what I said, I meant it at the time, but I don’t hate God. I was angry, I am angry, how could I not be angry. And how in the world do I apologize to GOD of all people. it’s not like apologizing to one of my friends when I’ve been a butt. I have to apologize to GOD, the big guy, the one who can put me in hell. Geesh, talk about pressure and there shouldn’t be any pressure I mean come on!
Thank you. The last two words written on a piece of paper during Bible study. Not the only two words, just the last two. A list of prayer requests are at the top of the page. The list of loved ones who are ill or dealing with death and other hardships in life… there were no praises that week. The most notable request coming from someone asking we pray for the family of the bombers of the Boston marathon.
Half way down the page a note is scribbled from the video on James we were watching… Father will give whatever you ask in Jesus name.
Then the beginning of a prayer:
Lord –
Thank you
Nothing else, not even a punctuation. Written in preparation of closing the session in prayer, forgetting the study would just end on the prayer given at the end of the video… interrupted by anguish and being asked to think about the most recent time you’ve experienced mental distress. Interrupted by a video centered around childbirth, the anguish of losing a child, and finding joy in the midst of the anguish. Lord, Thank you was all that was written. At that point, what He is to be thanked for is uncertain, perhaps it was a thank you for finally putting a word to the pain, maybe for the sense of peace that is finally arrived, for the joy that was found in the midst of anguish, maybe for shining a light on the all of the things in life that needed letting go and for a renewal of spirit. Who knows what that thank you was for… they were the only words that would come out that day.
Today, the thank you is for finally putting a word to the pain, for the renewed spirit, the ability to look at life differently than before, for all of the vast and unending blessing being poured out on life even when there are times it feels as if everything is lost. Today, the thank you is for the realization that sometimes fewer words are more than enough, the realization that less is in fact more. Today, the thank you is for this wonderfully crazy, out of our control life.
I am an expert at sleeping. I can sleep for 12 hours be up for 3 and turn around and sleep another 12. Lately, sleep has evaded me. I’ve had things on my mind. I lay in bed for hours trying to sleep before I go work the dreaded midnight to 8 shift. I miss sleep dearly, like a long lost friend. I try to make sense of the thoughts that float around in my head, the only problem is the thoughts are complete. They start in sentences and end up in fragments. They end in single words…fragments of the fragmented thoughts. My head works something like this:
I feel like an outsider.
All of the compulsive lying and guilt trips
My dad — too much to go into!
I feel Alone! Used! Misguided! Misunderstood!
Alone.
Used.
Misunderstood.
Misguided.
Confused.
Frightened. (future)
Upset.
Angry.
Failure.
Unlovable.
Betrayed.
Failure as daughter, Christian, woman/mother
Melissa, Lesa, Sarah
KERRI
Rebuilding = Frustrating
Want to cry
Only at peace at LPCC
Home is not home
Need more PRAYER!!
How?
NO WORDS!!!
Broken – Fixed = No, on mend
Healing – still pain everyday
Fragmented Happiness
Contentment within reach…
The inner contents of my mind continue to be an enigma… If I could only sift through the thoughts then maybe, perhaps sleep would return and I would feel the peace I felt only a week or so ago.
“You can’t judge a book by its cover.” Well, technically you can… and I do. Often. I also judge books by their titles, but that is not the point. I think the point here is you SHOULDN’T judge a book by its cover. You also can’t judge a Sniper by its camouflage. To judge a Sniper by its camouflage left me with adjectives like goody two shoes, nauseatingly perky, overly friendly, preppy, holier than thou, and overachiever just to name a few.
I had known who Sniper was probably as long as I could remember. We live in a small town and everyone knows everyone else. She was younger than me and therefore I wasn’t obligated to acknowledge the presence of the lower classmen; it didn’t help matters she was a cheerleader (I am anti-cheerleader). Looking back we were pretty bitchy in school… and for absolutely no reason. Sniper is not the only who caught the end of the bitch stick upside the face in the Edwards County School system.
Much like many of the books I have overlooked because of their cover that I later make my way back to because of a recommendation or just because I’ve had nothing else to read, I also found my way back to Sniper. It was a God sent opportunity to re-evaluate an opinion that was made 10 years prior. I know it was God sent because only God could arrange our paths crossing and the completely unexpected, from the outside looking in unreasonable friendship that started in 2011. Sniper has a very carefully constructed camouflage. A camouflage of happiness to hide the disease that has stolen her hearing, to cover the fear and anxiety, to cover the inner struggles with family, with ghosts of bitchy high school girls bent on making her cower in fear and loathing. I, on the other hand, have a carefully constructed camouflage of fierceness, of someone who doesn’t take any crap off of anybody. Judging a Sniper by its camouflage and comparing it to your own is a bit like comparing Real Tree to Mossy Oak… it can be done, but it is really just pointless. Camouflage is camouflage, a cover is a cover and you never know what is underneath it.
The Sniper is in fact a timid, God fearing woman who longs to connect to her inner fierceness and unleash it on the world. I tell her to find her inner brunette. This particular Sniper has fire in her veins, longs to suck the marrow from life and is a fiercely loyal friend. Someone who when life has drug you to the bottom of the pond can with one simple message breathe life back into you. Her bruised knees (http://onbruisedknees.wordpress.com) come from a faith in God that only someone who has depended on Him for years to survive the wrong end of the bitch stick… they come from someone who spends time with her God not only praying for her strength but the strength and wisdom of her husband and sister, and for those friends she clings to for dear life. She struggles with living far from those who understand her the most (with the exception of her husband), with not having a group of women to study with, to gather with, she longs to create, to write, to live inspired, to inspire others. She has taught me to look at the good in life, to see the beauty in the small things. She encourages me to create, to write, to play saxophone, to find a job I enjoy. Her messages are always sent with love, with the amazing gift of God’s perfect timing in them. She understands the things in my soul that I struggle with, that I long for. She has been fiercely loyal and more supportive than I could have asked for during the past five months. She is someone I thankfully went back to and saw past the camouflage. She thankfully sees through my camouflage. And with this friendship that goes beyond the layers we use to hide from the world, I like to think, and I’m going to use her words here, we are able to encourage one another to smile a little more, live our joy-filled lives and do every other thing we want to do because we can and with God’s help we can both most certainly be free.
I’ve finally found the edge… the edge of happiness. Contentment… joy despite the struggles. James 1:2-4 says “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking in anything.” I may not be there yet, as I will continually be lacking in something as long as I live in this world, but I can be joyful. I have persevered and this changing of the seasons also brings a change in me… a change where I can smile, live a joy-filled life and with God’s help I most certainly can be FREE!!
The official site of how to-ing.
Daily Thoughts and Meditations as we journey together with our Lord.
My Year As A Volunteer
The search for meaning, one page at a time
The Inner Contents of My Mind are an Enigma 