Monday, January 04, 2010

Daily 5 - Day 145

145 days ago I wrote this introduction to these daily lists.  I can't quite believe I've lasted this long.  It's a sort of goal to continue to write these daily lists (whether they have 5, or more often now, out of the ongoing need to really challenge myself to find joy and things to be grateful for amidst my day, 10 items.).

Today started in a pretty rough way, with some dreams.  It ended just a little bit sad and reflective, thinking and writing, and praying for some people I care about who are facing a variety of very challenging situations right now.  But the inbetween was mostly good, and that is what I'm choosing to focus on today.

Today's Daily "5":
  1. Remembering that the anxiety I woke into out of the dreams was not something I needed to own.  The situation in the dream is one that I can proactively handle, and one that I can choose not to worry about.  It's a step to remember that.  It'll be a bigger step when I can consistently put that into action!
  2. A good first day back at work
  3. Crazy out of control credit card calls, but a calmness amidst that, and actually feeling really grateful for my job, and wanting to be really pleasant with customers stuck paying large insurance bills right after the holidays.
  4. Grateful that we caught an issue with payroll, and then a second issue with payroll, nice and early, and not next week when it needs to be processed.
  5. Thankful that the payroll company provided good customer service and will be able to resolve the issue (even if I did have to spend nearly an hour, over the course of two calls, on hold)
  6. Thankful that my phone company did finally clear up a billing issue I've had for a few months.  I had to call them because I received a letter in the mail threatening to disconnect my service for non-payment.  Turns out the letter got sent out just before I called them and they managed to resolve the issue.  It could have been a much uglier phone call.
  7. Thankful for the first natural health treatment I've had in a month.  I was feeling pretty crummy and am definitely feeling a bit better thanks to the treatment.
  8. Thankful for the moments when the words actually flow and my heart connects to my fingers
  9. Thankful for the turkey and cranberry panini my mom served me, and the hamburger soup my roommate made - both of which were part of my supper tonight
  10. Thankful that even though there were delays on the train coming home tonight, I still made it to where I needed to be on time, and had a nice chat with a lady on the train in the meantime.  The conversation made me grateful for my own health (limited though it's been) and mobility - she was in an accident over a year ago, was off work for 11 months, and is still waiting for clearance from her doctor to begin driving again.  And she taught me something about gratefulness too - she's super excited to be moving to a different apartment, simply because it's only a few blocks from where she works downtown, and she won't have to make the train commute, which is challenging for someone with a spinal injury in a packed out c-train.  Random encounter, but somehow, Jesus was in it for me.

Alone (Not Alone)

I started reading Anne Jackson's blog infrequently probably six months ago, and following it regularly sometime in the last few months.  I've mentioned before that I appreciate her honesty, and her discussion of mental health issues.  You don't find many Christians, and particularly not many with a certain degree of public position who are willing to admit mental health struggles, and as someone who dealt with depression for many years, has family members with fairly extreme mental health struggles, and continues to wrestle with anxiety and panic issues at times, I've appreciated that public discussion - that breaking of the stigma.

Today the title of the post on her blog is "Do You Feel Alone?"  She poses the question, "In what area of your life do you feel most alone?"  The comments have been interesting to read today.

I've spent much of the last two years fairly deliberately secluded.  Partly because my heart was broken.  Partly because my broken heart destroyed my physical health and my destroyed health and limited energy left few options for socialization.  Partly because I was longing for what had been, fighting for it, crying and aching over it.  And finally, because, when I began to see the end, my heart was so shattered that I was terribly afraid to risk opening it again.

I belonged once.  There was a place where my heart fit - where I wasn't strange, and the way my gifts operated complimented the way the gifts of those around me operated.  That place fell apart, for a myriad of reasons, different, I suppose for each person you ask - I certainly have my own thoughts on the matter.

Two years passed, and mostly I hid and waited and cried.

I talked a lot with a very few dear friends, scattered around the country.

And with Jesus.  Actually I did a lot of shouting at Jesus, wondering why I could have something so beautiful one moment, and then have it blown to hell the next.  Maybe what I had became an idol.  I think at times I missed that - that sense of belonging - more than I missed the places Jesus led us.  More than I missed Jesus.

It's only in the last six months that I've begun to again long for community.  Not any longer only the specific community that I had, but simply community.  To again be part of the body of Christ.  To have that thing where there is someone in the same city you can call and ask to pray on a hard day.  Someone to meet for coffee and talk about where Jesus is showing up in the midst of day to day life.

I started attending church again - at least irregularly.  I know, I know, "good" Christians go to church.  (Insert my eye roll, and perhaps a whole dissertation on how exactly church is defined here.) The hiatus I took was maybe one of the most healing things I could have done.  I've spent my whole life in church.  The running joke as a child of a pastor was that the only Sunday that I'd ever missed church was the one I was born on.  (It was pretty close to the truth.)  I'd spent my whole life doing, and performing and being.  And my heart had been shattered.  Over and over.  By Christians. 

The time away was time to heal.  To fall in love again with the Jesus who met me in a dark car four years ago and healed seven years of intense depression in a moment.  The Jesus who cared enough to set up little things.  The Jesus who loved me enough to let at least one really important relationship remain, and grow stronger.  I fell in love with him again, and it began to feel like the most natural longing in the world, as an outpouring of that love, to long again to be in His church, his body.

(It helps, I suppose that in university I studied history, and fell in love with the church - with this institution that had so many faults, but so many glowing moments.)

I've found a house church that I'm pretty sure I'm going to grow to love.  But right now, it is one of the places where I feel most alone.  It's a small group, and they've been together for a while.  I'm the new person, and it's awkward.  That thing where you're the outsider who doesn't know all the little histories and personality quirks that lead to conversations and humor.  I'm also an introvert.  That definitely doesn't help.  I'm not shy, but I find small talk boring, and I can only talk about my job for so long before I want to kill things (I like my job, but I sure don't want to spend my evenings talking about it all the time).  The little familiar moments make me ache inside for two reasons.  The first is that my heart really is longing to again share community, friendships, relationship, with people who love Jesus and are interested in searching out his heart.  The second is that it stirs longings for what I had.

So, for now, I walk this middle ground.  Not quite belonging anywhere.

And perhaps the most encouraging thing in the midst of it is the truth a dear friend reminds me of regularly.  "I am not alone."  I walk with Jesus, with a few friends and a family who love me deeply simply for who I am, and with angels and a whole communion of saints who have gone before.  "Never alone" my friend reminds me.  And, on a night like tonight when I am lonely, that is perhaps the most beautiful reminder possible.

Blue?

The results of this are fairly accurate.  And I do love the color blue, though I'm not certain it's my favorite.  I'm not certain I have a favorite.  I just know that I love color!

Your Favorite Color is Blue




You are a compassionate, empathetic, and sensitive person. You can truly put yourself in someone else's shoes.

You're known to be very soothing and understanding. Your friends can always turn to you in times of need.

You see the world realistically. You don't have any illusions about what is or isn't going on.

You are wise and thoughtful. You don't rush to judgement, and you think things through.

Back at Work

It's Monday morning and I am back in the office after 10 days off.  10 glorious days of sleeping until the sun was out.  10 glorious days of not answering a thousand phone calls and questions a day.

I got up before the sun did this morning.  The sun that is only now, after I've been gone from home for an hour and a half, really starting to properly light the sky.  And, I slept like crap last night.  Odd dreams, telling me that things I'd thought were only slightly niggling worries are perhaps a slightly bigger deal within me than I was wanting to admit to myself.

And, just to make it fun, the cold I've been fighting for several days settled in in force last night.  Oh, and my stomach clearly didn't get the memo that 2010 was going to be a healthy year for the first time in a while.  Sigh.  Could be an interesting day.

So, it's Monday morning and I'm back at work.  There's a disaster on my desk, but it's not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be.  Time to get myself organized for the new year!