Month: January 2023

Crazy Brain

I’ve had a strange week. It’s been a good week. Good times with my kids. Lots of basketball games. Everything has been done that needs to be done. And then, it’s been a bad week. 

My brain has decided to pull up every bad memory it can think of from the entire span of my life and just flood my thoughts with them. I’m driving down the road and suddenly I’m remembering that one time in middle school where I was so embarrassed. Or I remember that long forgotten argument with my husband. Or I remember that horrible parenting I did years ago. Or I remember how that one time in college I acted like an idiot. And it just goes on and on. And it’s weird because I don’t feel emotionally connected to those memories. I feel very separate from myself, like I’m watching myself remember all this stuff and I’m making commentary, like, Oh yeah, that happened. Huh. Forgot about that happening. Yup, that was a thing. 

Yesterday I kind of hit bottom with it all. Found myself frozen on the couch again. Not wanting to move to do anything. And I finally kind of talked out loud to the whole situation. Ok, my body and brain seem to need to do this right now. I don’t know why. I’m just going to accept that today is a non-productive day. I’ll do all the “have tos” of the day, but nothing extra. And I did feel better after that. I stopped guilting myself for not being industrious and motivated and just went with it. 

Today I woke up feeling anxious. What kind of day is it going to be? Am I going to be energized, ready to tackle all kinds of extra projects or am I going to have to force myself just to do the basics. I set myself some goals. Must clean my room and the bathroom before lunch. Read my Bible. Sat and wasted time on Facebook. Then I think I had a shove from the Holy Spirit. You’re feeling emotional. Go play Beethoven. Beethoven is a great outlet for emotions. So, I sat down and played through an entire Sonata. And I felt a lot better. 

I decided to make a list of four goals for my year (learning that sonata properly is one of them). And then I went and cleaned my room. And while I sit in this little corner of order, I feel like yes, maybe I can accomplish things and life can be good. 

My kids’ bible verse for the week is Galations 2:20.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

I’m human. I’ve collected my share of wounds, just like every other person on the planet. Sometimes I can walk through my days cheerfully, motivated, purposeful. Other days my brain is completely absorbed with processing, mourning, healing. But, over all of this is the fact that I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. I’m no longer trapped in my shame and guilt. Jesus’ work on the cross has covered all of that. I’m still here on this sinful earth. I still have my past hanging over my shoulder, but, the life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am no longer alone. I have the Holy Spirit in me, comforting me, guiding me. Giving me wisdom. Loving me. 

I want life to look perfect. Problems and then instant solutions that wrap everything up neatly in a package. I want to wake up every day full of energy, on a mission, ready to change the world. I want my past to be touched with a magic wand so that all the consequences of sins done against me, and sins I have done against others will all disappear into the void, never to be seen or heard of again. I want to be full of faith, never wavering. I want each day to be me accomplishing great things and then ending with peaceful sleep. 

So far, I haven’t gotten any of those things. It seems so sporadic. So messy. One day good, the next day bad. One morning awesome, the afternoon messing everything up. One day I can conquer the world, the next day I can hardly get out of bed. So imperfect. 

But I am taking comfort in the fact that I am in Christ Jesus. He knows what he is doing with my life. And he does things in his own perfect time. His priorities and goals for my life are not the same as mine. And his are better. So me and my cluttered mind will move on with this imperfect day and I will rest in peace, knowing that I’m in Christ, he is in me, and nothing can separate me from that. Not even my crazy brain and fluctuating motivation. 

Basketball, Car Trouble, Faith

This past weekend I got to take my kids to their first basketball tournament. It was a lot of fun. Our teams played well. Our boy’s team got second place. Yay team! Our girls played hard. Our cheerleaders were awesome. I had a lot of fun getting to know other parents from our school. 

I did learn something about myself. I have never been a sports person. I’m not athletic and I’ve never particularly felt like watching other people play sports. Now, I’m wondering if I don’t watch sports because subconsciously I just know I can’t handle that level of excitement/stress/anxiety/emotional involvement. The girls championship game came first before our the boys championship game and I was watching and I did not know anyone on the court and I found myself getting so upset and yelling (it was a vicious game) and cheering and I felt ALL THESE EMOTIONS and I was thinking, good grief, I’m not cut out for this kind of excitement. And then I had to watch our team play right after that. Needless to say, by the time the tournament was over I was wiped out. 

We had to travel to North Carolina for the tournament which meant we had around a six hour drive back home. I made a joke to some of the other parents about hoping I didn’t break down on the way home (FORESHADOWING). I should have kept my mouth shut (FORESHADOWING). I really wasn’t worried though. My husband had just recently fixed some things and taken the same car for a road trip and had no problems.

Just a little information. Our family drives old cars. My husband buys them cheap and then fixes them up cause he’s got skills like that. If my car breaks down, I call him, he comes and rescues me, we move on. I don’t love it. It’s what we do to live on the budget we have. It works well enough. Also means I’ve got lots of crazy stories. 

So, I’m zipping along the interstate, already feeling a little stressed. I don’t like driving at night. I don’t like driving when I’m tired. I was keeping myself pumped up with loud praise music, caffeine and sugar. Then suddenly a bright yellow, CHECK ENGINE light starts flashing and I start losing power. My car slows down about 10 mph and then does a little kick and keeps going and then the whole car starts jerking so I pull over. In the dark, on the side of a mountain road. Nothing around us. I no longer need caffeine and sugar. I’ve got pure adrenaline pumping through my veins. 

I will tell you another thing about myself. When I am in a high stress situation, I start praying out loud. And maybe swearing a bit too. It’s a weird mix. My two middleschoolers sit silently and watch me. Unfortunately for them, they’ve been in this situation before. I call my husband who walks me through some things to check. I open the hood of the car like I know what I’m doing, while my son holds my cellphone/flashlight. Everything checks out. So now my husband knows what is NOT the problem. He finally tells me to start driving again, slow down, see what happens. I check my fuel gauge, I’ve got a quarter tank, I need to stop soon and get gas (FORESHADOWING). 

So I start driving again, out-loud praying has resumed. I quickly discover that when driving on flat stretches or going down hill, my car can go about 60mph before it starts jerking. Going up hill I have to slow down to around 40-45mph. Did I also mention that I’m just starting to head up the mountain pass through the Smokies? 

It’s dark. It’s late. I’m constantly having to slow way down, put on my hazard lights and crawl my way up the mountain. And I’m just trying to get home. I turn off the heater because that has caused problems in the past, so now I’m freezing, got my gloves on, gripping the steering wheel hard. Music is off because I was using my phone to listen to music and realized my battery is low, and I don’t have the proper adaptor to charge my phone in the car. 

I’m driving along, we’ve passed all the cities and we are now smack in the middle of the mountains. Suddenly, no matter how much I slow down, my car won’t stop jerking. Out loud praying and swearing starts again. I look at my gas gauge, I’m below the E line. Way below. I forgot to get gas. I was so focused on trying to keep my car moving, I FORGOT GAS!! Y’all. I’m not cut out for the adventurous life. I don’t have the brain cells to keep track of everything when I’m stressed. I felt like such an idiot. And my prayer became, LORD, I’M AN IDIOT. PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON ME. And I almost fell apart. And it’s weird, but at that moment, I suddenly thought of a book I am reading. In the book the main character is a leader with people under him. And he really takes that responsibility to heart. They look to him for help and he knows it’s his job to help them. And I thought, there is no way an author can create a character who is better than God. God is the one charge of taking care of me, and he takes that responsibility a lot more seriously than some character in a book. He’s going to help me. And then my son quickly points out a rest area sign, Look MOM! A rest area! I debated with myself for a moment. There’s no gas at a rest area, but at least it’s a safe place, better than the side of the road and there will be people who can help me. 

We pulled in and there was a lady outside as part of the cleaning crew. I went up to her and explained my problem and she pulled out her phone and called the Highway Patrol. (*HP if you ever need to call them!). Highway patrol came about ten minutes later and gave me two gallons of gas. We got back on the road and had a little more stress trying to find a gas station out in the middle of nowhere that would be open at 11pm. But, I pulled into a closed gas station and their pumps were on. We got gas, and an hour later I finally got home. 

In the midst of all this, when everything started going crazy, my daughter asked in an uncertain voice, “Are we ok?” And I said, Listen, I’m going to get you home. I guarantee that. There might be some adventures between now and home, but we will get home eventually. And apparently her faith in me was strong because she wrapped herself up in a blanket and went to sleep and slept through all the rest of the craziness. My son even managed to sleep a bit once I got gas in the car. 

As I was getting close to home, I couldn’t help thinking, WHY??? And what came to my mind was that my two middleschoolers got to watch their mom handle a stressful situation. They listened to me pray and ask Jesus to help us and get us home safely and then they got to watch Jesus help us and get us home safely. And they also heard me acknowledge his help and thank him. Christian discipleship. I show you what the Christian walk looks like, and you learn from watching me. And you grow in your faith. And in the process I grow in my faith too. 

Next time though, I think I might rent a car. 

It’s January, Uggh.

Every year, somewhere around October I kind of give up. Ok. I’m not going to accomplish these goals this year. Time to just wait till January and then we’ll have a fresh start, “New Year, New Me!” I’ll start exercising again in January. I’ll work on our family eating habits in January. I’ll start thinking about new goals and projects in January. 

Now part of that is just practical. The holidays start revving up in November and it’s a lot of work to uphold all the traditions and make sure everything happens that we want to happen. On top of that, this last year our entire fall was devoted to working on transitioning our foster daughter back home and then she left a week into December. So it was definitely not the time to be trying to introduce more vegetables to the kids or start a new exercise regime. January was the first month when everything was going to settle down and get into a new normal routine. 

Every year I hit January with this weight of expectations of all the miraculous things I’m going to start doing, starting now. And every January I get frozen into immobility. Cause it’s the same me in January that was hanging around eating desserts in December. Somehow, I didn’t magically change into this new person as soon as the calendar flipped to the new year. If I want to change things about myself, acquire more discipline in some areas, acquire better habits etc, it means I’m going to have to kill off the old Me. It’s going to be painful. It’s going to mean doing things I don’t particularly like or enjoy with the hope that one day I will like and enjoy it. I have great memories of enjoying going for a run. But the current me does not think that sounds fun at all. 

And so I sit here and I think, it’s time to go take a walk. Uggh. You need to make yourself some vegetables for lunch. Uggh. You need to start doing some organizing cleaning in your house. Uggh. You need to seriously start working on this new project. Uggh. 

I don’t want to. 

And now comes the really hard part of January. Making yourself do things you don’t want to do because you know it’s good for you. 

I’m going to be realistic. It’s not all going to happen today. But maybe I can make at least one good choice today. Do at least one hard thing today. Give this ball a push and slowly get it moving. 

Yeah, the beginning of January is about facing reality, this is who I am and if I want change I’m going to have to be uncomfortable for a while. But it’s also a time of hope. Maybe I can do hard things after all. I’m going to at least try.

The Art of Being Invisible

Being invisible has been one of my core defenses since I was very young. If people don’t see you they won’t tease you. Bully you. Ridicule you. If people don’t see you then they won’t know you. If they don’t know you they don’t have any power to hurt you. 

In our society there are a lot of ways to become invisible. Being overweight is a good one. I read this article one time of a woman who did an artistic photo journey of her transformation from obesity to normal weight. One of the key things that stood out in her photos was the invisibility of being overweight. We are a society that puts a heavy emphasis on physical beauty and if you don’t fit into that category, you become invisible. 

Another way to become invisible which is more universal, is to simply not be young any more. Our books, movies, tv shows, advertisements, all focus on youth. Sure you can still stand out as an older person as long as you still have a youthful body, face, and style. 

As a mom I have found surrounding myself with children is a good way to make myself invisible. Everyone’s focus is on the children, Beauty! Youth! Sweet adorableness! 

Being overweight is a journey I’m still walking out. Ageing is inevitable. Being surrounded by kids has turned out to be my calling. These are all things that just make me invisible inevitably. Not choices I have particularly made. But the choice for invisibility that I do consciously make is the choice to be silent. 

In case you all haven’t noticed, I generally have a lot to say. As a kid in school, I was always the quiet one, but if the teacher asked a question in class, I had my hand raised, ready to answer. I like discussions. I like engaging in talks about ideas. I will gladly skip small talk, but if you open up with a heavy topic, I’m all in. 

Over the past months as our lives kind of spiralled out of control for a bit there and the amount of crazy life situations I was having to deal with reached an insane level, I resorted to all the defense mechanisms that always helped me survive in the past. Defense number one: become invisible. Retreat into silence. 

Now, I feel lke I am on the other side of the storm. There are some hurts and damage and I’ve got to help my kids walk through the healing process, but it feels like we have reached calm waters again. And I feel like I’m in a different kind of dangerous place. Being silent is comfortable. It feels safe. I sit here in my house, my kids have returned to school, and I have no desire to leave my cocoon. I have no desire to interact with anyone. Even in the relative anonymity of Facebook, I find myself writing and then erasing my comments because I just don’t want to engage. I don’t want to be seen. And while I feel like being invisible was necessary for the particular circumstances we were in, it’s not a place to stay. 

I have a great imaginary life in my head. Stories I come back to over and over again. In the past year, I have started analysing these stories. Why do I like these? What draws me to this story? And I have come to realize that the attraction in these stories is that it is someone invisible who becomes seen. Recognized. And through that recognition, given worth. I have a deep longing to be seen. To experience the true intimacy of being known. I know, in my mind, that God sees me. That Jesus’ work on the cross has already given me value. But somehow it feels like my ability to fully walk in that truth is wrapped up in my ability to also walk it out with the people around me. 

And so I find myself facing this new year wondering if I have it in me to open my mouth and speak again. To engage with people again. To take the time and energy to truly see the people around me and take the risk of letting myself be seen.