Welcome to My Royally Wrecked Space to Chill...

I hope you find comradery...I hope you find peace....I hope you find joy...I hope you find acceptance...I hope you feel loved...I hope you know that your are precious...chosen...and always welcome here...come sit a spell...

Sunday, April 27, 2014

I'm livin' in the wasteland...

by NeedToBreathe
I am the first one in line to die
When the cavalry comes
Yeah it feels like the great divide
has already come
Yeah im wastin' my way through days
losing youth along the way
Oh if God, is on my side
Oh if God, is on my side
Oh if God, is on my side
Who could be against me?
There was a greatness I felt for a while
But somehow it changed
Some kind of blindness I used to protect me
From all of my stains
Yeah I wish this was vertigo
It just feels like I'm fallin' slow

 Oh if God, is on my side
Then who can be against me?
Yeah in this wasteland
Where I'm livin'
There is a crack in the door filled with light
And it's all that
I need to get by
Yeah in this wasteland
Where I'm livin'
There is a crack in the door filled with light
And it's all that
I need to shine
All of these people I meet
It seems like they're fine
Yeah in some ways I hope that they're not
And their hearts are like mine
Yeah its wrong when it seems like work
To belong, All I feel is hurt
Oh if God, is on my side
Yeah if God, is on my side
Oh if God, is on my side
Who could be against me?
I cannot begin to say how much I connect with the lyrics. I've always loved NEEDTOBREATHE. But when I turned this on last week I instantly felt at home. I know reading the lyrics one might feel depressed...hopeless in a fog...but for me, it's actually quite the opposite.
You see...I'm living in the wasteland.
It's a weird, dry, dusty place this wasteland. It's fraught with frailty, pain, blisters, vulnerability, weakness, and really bad character. But on the other side it's wrapped in joy, fulfillment, authenticity, realization, and love. It's strange, exhausting, and liberating.
Walking through the wasteland is stripping me of my pedestal, my "I'm not one of you", my strength, my judgements, my borders, my filter...and swapping those with what I thought I was not capable of... (good and bad) for what I am indeed capable of...
I've find this period of my life to be the most physically challenging of all seasons within my life.
I'm toast. Which means I'm filter less. Raw. Unable to hold back the darkness within my own heart or the light that shows through the cracks. It's unnerving. Because when you're stripped bare, you can't fake. You can't wrap your cardigan tighter and make others believe you're still warm and cozy...because you are so obviously standing there shivering...appalled at your own nakedness but there's not a stitch of clothing in sight...so you remain...for all to see...including yourself...and it's unnerving...
I've come to the realization in the last 4 months that I am capable. Capable of many things. Good. Bad. In between. But the most revealing...I'm capable of being JUST LIKE everyone else. Those I've judged. Those I've admired. Those I've scorned in years gone by. Those I've wanted to emulate. Those I thought I was above...It's by far the most confusing place I've walked. And yet...it is confirmation of the soul.
The wrong choices. The right choices. The skint knees. The beautiful sprint. The love. The brutality. The failure. The endurance. They all confirm what I truly never really grasped about myself: I AM HUMAN. I AM FLESH AND BONE. And flesh and bone is a messy, scary, glorious, no road map thing to be.
For as long as I can remember I've rallied under the belief that I am STRONG. Impenetrable. And to be transparent...a level above the norm. How infinitely funny that seems now and ridiculously Pharisee - ical. I never believed I was capable of scraping bottom and top at the same time. Living in glorious bliss while making daily mundane choices that I looked at others and thought to be "less than." Boy was I ever so wrong. I'm human. SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS!!! IIIIIIII AAAAMMMMMM HUMMMMANNNNN!!!!!
When you are living raw and devoid of rest...you enter a place where you cannot hide. You cry more. You cuss more. You appreciate the kindness of those who love you more. You appreciate others in the bull pen with you that are making the same mistakes and victories because it teaches you what you never really knew...YOU. ARE. CAPABLE.
Capable of love and lust. Capable of generosity and stinginess. Capable of holiness and paganism. Capable of joy and angst. Capable of feast and famine. Capable of sainthood and sin. It is a dichotomy at it's best; Capability.
You find yourself living on scraps of God and realizing that for now it's enough. You swim out too far then you swim back to the shore. You become glutinous on pleasures swelling with idolatry then you begin running the long marathon of the spiritual soul again...gasping for air because you are SO FREAKIN' TIRED...yet something within you screams one more mile...one more stride...
Interestingly enough, this place is not a bad one..It's a revelatory one. When I can no longer tell myself that I am not any different from those I've judged, avoided, turned away from, or clung too...I am free to love. Free to accept. Free to realize that we are ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. One screwed up, floundering school of humanity, that day in, day out will need a Savior.
We're swimming some days in shallow pools, others in deep oceans. Treading water sometimes, back stroking the next. We fall below the surface and see God's glorious beauty some days, then others sink to the bottom of murky waters where we cannot see our hand in front of our face. This. This is life.
This is what Glennon Doyle refers to as the "Brutiful" life. Life is a big ol' beautiful, brutal mess. And the quicker we realize there are no "classes" of humanity...that we are all capable of the exact same sins and sophistications...we become one. It's the only way.
Every day I get up I am happy. And downright sick of living this way. I am in love with my life. And I hate many moments of it. Dichotomy. We will ALWAYS live in the in between and anyone that tells you differently is a complete, bold, face liar.
But I'm finding it is the living in between that takes away our toys and trophies and hands us our trajectories...our God spoken trajectories...again...it is the only way...
If we are to be authentic and dependent...We have to live capable. Plain and simple.
Capable of mayhem and majesty. Capable of greatness and guile. Capable of beauty and brutality.
Grace n Peace,
A ~

Monday, April 7, 2014

Careless in the care of God...


I dreamed all night. Crazy dreams. Dreams that worried. Not real worries. Fake crazy worries. I know when I begin to do this that there are several components going on in my life story:
  1. I am not rested. If I am dreaming and waking continuously all night it signals to me I'm not at peace and I'm subconsciously worried.
  2. I'm not in Shalom. Shalom envelopes and encourages. Worry denigrates and denounces joy. Vastly different.
  3. I'm crazy. There I said it. I'm just plain cray as the day is long.
All the above are true and no matter how I lie in bed ruminating and trying to evaluate the outliers...I will never figure it all out nor write the story. I'm not God. But I really, REALLY want to be.

Funny thing is...I don't worry and get anxious always over what we term "the big stuff"...I worry about totally inconsequential ridiculosity...Examples:

  1. My butt is dropping. OMG MY BUTT IS DROPPING. I'm in class 8 hours a day and I'm losing my awesome butt. How is it I'm not running 5 miles a day. I don't care that I have 40 hours of school a week and 40 hours of work a week and a husband (who I want to like my butt) and kids and spiritual life...I have to be perfect. I have to keep up my body else I will be less than...(as she jumps out of bed to start squats)
  2. I don't know my children. OMG I DON'T KNOW MY CHILDREN...THEY WILL TURN INTO DRUG ADDICTS OR WORSE...MOTHER HATERS!!! I am teaching them perseverance and dream chasing but what they really need is for me to sit down and watch frozen with them completely unplugged with homemade cookies and hormone free milk. In fresh smelling of Gain fabric softner washed pajamas.
  3. I am failing at everything spiritual. I cussed. I thought really bad thoughts towards people I wanted to punch in the throat. I wanted to run. Far far away. OMG I WANTED TO WATCH MOVIES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND EAT COTTON CANDY!!! I have hit rock bottom!!!
  4. I am the worst friend ever. OMG WHEN DID I LAST TALK TO MY FRIEND? What day is this? Do I have clean scrubs for tomorrow? I will have no friends by the time this year is over because I will have only talked to nursing students and patients!!!
See...I'm crazy. The list goes on and on but I cannot continuing sharing else you call Adult and child protective services for the sake of me and my family. Yet...in all the crazy...I'm finding something...

I'm turning inward. Not outward anymore.

A few years ago when these moments of self doubt and angst would begin, I would call my best...depend on them to reassure me that I was not failing...that I was not going over the edge. Now...I find I can sit with it all. I can say to myself..."You are having a crazy moment and none of this is legit. Nor is it real." Then the wonderful, meant to be thing happens...

I start talking to God.

I literally say to Him "Ok...this is SO dumb. But I'm worried about my butt dropping. I'm worried I don't have a silverware organizer. I'm worried of how I'm going to make this schedule work. I'm worried that my children don't know me this year. And God I know people are starving and poor and naked...but in my idolatrous self absorption...I'm feasting on these thoughts."

And I find...I no longer need to lean on someone else for reprieve from the nastiness that is my rumination crazy side. I find I'm leaning into the one who gives "attention to the appearance of wildflowers" and it's exactly what the purpose of all this is. HIM. ME. DEPENDENCE.

I must admit as I lean...the thoughts don't always go away. But, I also am realizing that's the process. The trite "journey". If I ever get to wear I'm no longer human and crazyfied...I fear I would plan, assess, conduct, organize, and unthink Jesus right on out of my life. Because I'm selfish. I'm self absorbed. I'm idolatrous. I would leave Him in my dust and keep on truckin'.

But with these thorns...no matter how scattered and ridiculous they may seem...I remain in need of a Savior. I need to be saved from my crazy. I need to be saved from myself. I need to be saved from societal expectations. I need daily deliverance.

And He brings it...right up to my breakfast, lunch, and dinner table. He sits with me and says again and again "Give your entire attention to me right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. I will help you deal with whatever hard things come up WHEN THE TIME COMES." (Paraphrased Mt. 6:34)

The word "worry" comes from an old English term wyrgan which means "to choke or strangle". (Anxious for Nothing by John MacArthrur Jr.) How appropriate. When I'm ruminating and studying all the outliers of my life, as redundant as this is, I strangle the absolute crap out of my "here and now" life. I realize I've spent the last four hours solving issues that have not and probably will not ever happen when I could have been fully present with my beautiful family. Enough Said.

Dependent. I am dependent upon a Savior. Today. Hopefully tomorrow. Dependent. Anti climatic I know. It would be so much more exciting and fun to say I'd found the perfect pill that makes it all shiny not whiney and hypnotism really does work...but alas...it's the age old truth I go back to...surrendering my independence for total dependence. Therein lies Shalom.

Grace n Peace,

A ~

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Conscious thought sharing and other musings during lecture...WHOOPS!

I've been doing my devotionals in class. During lecture. Which means: I'm not listening during lecture but I am trying to listen to God and my spirit. So...I guess that works.

In my readings and listening, I've been hearing a whisper...not a shout...just a gentle tapping on my soul's door to come back...to come back to a place of delight and delicious encounter...

I read about uttering thoughts throughout the day and whispering feelings as they come...I read about men and women I have been raised to behold in the scriptures as stoic, heroic perfect imitators of the faith and realize that they were utter failures at times in their lives as well...running from the author of their stories and foundations just like I do at times...and it comforts me...

I find I fail in being conscious...miserably...I over engage in getting it all done and under engage in submitting my heart to the story writer...or...I don't engage... and in fact merely survive...and survive only miserably...

Today I stepped back (in lecture) and started to reel in my heart (or at least try)...when I had a thought that felt big...or delicious...grand...or small...I tried really really hard to stop and share it with my story writer...it felt really really good.

Because here's the deal...God is going to write my story. With. Or without my involvement. So...I'd really like to be involved. It's so much more fun that way. I mean...who wants to hang out with their partner who never speaks to them? Who never reaches out to touch them? Who never even looks their way? NOT ME said the redhead. When that Cajun holds me and tells me what I mean to him...my whole world lights up like a frickin' July 4th in the south. How much more does God light up when we're lovin' on Him and sharing our days? Which...ultimately sharing our days are sharing our hearts. Epic.

So...tomorrow I'm gonna get after it and get too busy and screw up some more and really really focus again on sharing my story with the author...He's got such good hook lines...I don't wanna miss a thing...

Grace n Peace Yawl...

A ~