I am just a vessel

I've been talking with someone lately. Helping out a man I've known for years and years. An acquaintance of sorts. He knows a bit of my history, but we've never discussed it. Honestly I figured he'd just think I was nuts, so why go there. 

Recently he's been going through some stuff himself, and I've had the opportunity to help out a few times. Nothing major or big -- just happened to be the one available to help him take care of some things. And he's begun to talk with me. Prefacing comments with, "I've never told anyone this before" and then sharing what to him feels like a deep dark secret.

And I hear myself in his words. The stress and anxiety. The fear of disaster. Not feeling "good enough", and the fear of his feelings being misconstrued.

At first I wanted to fix it for him. Offer him solutions. "This is what I've been through and how I handled it" platitudes. But a voice in my head (Spirit?) told me just to listen. Nothing I could say would be as helpful (powerful) as the listening. I interjected a few times to point out that he's not crazy. I know, because he sounds like I used to sound, and they told me I wasn't crazy.

I have found myself wishing he'd just listen. Why can't he see the flaw in his thought processes? And yes, I see the irony in that. How many people have done and are still doing that for me?

So I'm reminded once again that I am just a vessel. A traveler on a journey that is not really about me, but is more about how God is using me. How the best things happen when I let go of the reins and let Him lead me.

linking up with Imperfect Prose and Just Write

Imperfect Thoughts

I want to write about the struggles I'm having. About marriage therapy where we are addressing long standing issues. About how I feel that I never do enough or do it the right way. About how difficult communication can be even with those you love the most.

I want to write about my son and his struggles with growing up. College and how hard it can be learning to be an adult because it's not all about freedom. It's about responsibility and hard work as well.

I want to write about my daughter and the struggles she's having right now with past choices and future plans. How hard it is for her to look at the past and get it in perspective. How difficult it is for her figure out what to do next, now that college is behind her.

And I want to write about the fact that I'm learning to live each day in it's own space. How I take life in 1 hour increments, because if I plan any farther than that it inevitably changes and that throws me off kilter. I want to write about feeling unsure one minute and positive the next that I'm doing the best I can (a phrase my husband hates). I want to trust that I'm making good, okay, acceptable, correct choice, but maybe I'm just telling myself that so I can get what I want.

I'm an introvert who always seems to have people around me. I'm a people pleaser, which means my wants, wishes, desires, beliefs usually take a backseat to everyone else's. 

I want life to be less stressful. And then I feel guilty for even thinking that, when I have a house and a car and all the food I could possibly want or need. I know I have it so good. What right have I to complain? But I just wish it weren't so hard. I want a stretch of ease. No major crises. No significant family issues. No work issues. A period of peace. 

And I look for it in small doses. A day spent with my best friend. A long walk with my husband. Casual, relaxing conversation with my daughter. A brief, upbeat phone call from my son. But I worry about worrying. Matthew tells us that we are not to worry. So now I'm failing at something different. 

And round and round it goes. The merry go round of stress and anxiety. The desperate need to please so I won't be in trouble. And, yes, I know the only one I need to please is God, but how do I know? How do I know that I'm making the right choices for the right reasons? That I'm not just rationalizing my choices to get what I want.

Those are my imperfect thoughts this morning.

linking up with imperfect prose

How to Love Yourself Even When You Aren't Lovable

I don't do well with lack of sleep. I know some people can just power through it, or caffeinate themselves through it. Not me. I hit the wall and get cranky, moody, and weepy. My eyes begin to burn, and my throat gets sore and my voice gets raspy. I become incredibly paranoid.

That's what happened this past weekend. And unfortunately I took a lot of it out on my husband. The one I wrote about last week. What a difference a few days, and a lack of sleep can make!

There's a natural inclination in my being to see everything as black and white -- people are good or bad -- no middle ground. That's a harsh judgment on others, and perhaps, an even harsher judgment on myself. 

So yesterday I stepped back from the past few days and acknowledged I had behaved in a less than loving way. I accepted that sometimes (especially when sleep deprived) my husband and I won't necessarily see everything exactly the same way -- but that doesn't make either of us "bad people". 

I decided to apologize to him. To take ownership of my mistakes, without deeming myself an utter failure, undeserving of love. I gave myself the opportunity to make mistakes, and bounce back from them.

Another step toward learning to love myself as God loves me.

linking up with a love dare

Release

T.S. Eliot said, "April is the cruelest month", but right now I'm thinking it could be January. In the past week my father-in-law has retired from teaching because of pulmonary fibrosis. My sister-in-law's 87 year old mother died on Sunday. This morning I learned of 2 friends who lost parents in the past 24 hours. I have 2 more friends whose mother's are dying. Add to that my son is struggling with possibly changing college majors/colleges. My daughter just started her final internship for college. My husband is struggling with his father's illness, our son's challenges, and his own work in graduate school.

That leaves me as the voice of calm and reason around the house right now, which reminds of how important it is to learn to release stress, or whatever portion of it I can. 

Learning to release stress is difficult. For me, what's really hard, is learning to accept what I have no control over. The reality of this life is that I have very little control over anything, and recognizing that lack of power is strangely empowering. It's not my job to heal the sick or raise the dead. Okay I probably already knew that, but it's also not my job to make my kids happy, solve their problems, or those of my husband either. Dealing with difficulties, heartache, loss -- that's all part of living, and for most of us the only way to grow is through those experiences. So the carry over is if I protect my kids from difficulties, I'm also hindering their growth.

So, yeah, January's been rough. And it's not over yet. But that's okay because it's not my job to keep bad things from happening. My job is to be a listening ear and a loving wife and mother, and I can do that and release a lot of the stress.