Blow after Blow

This last week has held another couple major blows in life.

I'm feeling pretty beat up as I lay here, getting ready to get out of bed.

I'm confused and hurting and oh so tired from nights in a row of restless rest.

So, this morning as I work to get myself up, I'm thinking about the kids book I wrote about here.

About this line from near the beginning, "Sidney felt broken.  And some days that made it hard to get up in the morning.  Some days, in fact, Sidney couldn't get up at all."

And these lines from near the end: 

As for Sidney, he still had his share of messes, though not as many as before.  And there were still a few days when he wasn't quite sure he could get up in the morning.  But if you stood outside his window on one of those days, this is what you'd hear:

"First of all, he loves me.  Secondly, he loves me.  And thirdly - He loves me."  

And that was all it took.

 
And as I lay here, feeling physically ill from the emotions and exhaustion exacerbated by the latest blow, I'm talking to myself, repeating as a mantra, "first, he loves me.  secondly, he loves me.  thirdly, he loves me."  Over and over again until my heart can again absorb the truth my head is trying to communicate to it.

Daily 5 - Day 109

It's another day with a 9 in the counting of it. Two actually, if you consider that it is not only day 109 of these daily 5 lists, but also the 29th of November.

This has been an incredibly challenging weekend. Full of fears and facing fears, and standing in the midst of them. Some things that are good. Some that were just hard. I've been fighting tears all day. Not because of anything in particular, but simply because I am completely and totally spent. The entirety of last week was full and busy, one of the busiest in weeks. It was one of the hardest weeks at my office in months, and the weekend was very, very full of challenges. And I am reminding myself that it is okay to be spent after a time like that. That even a "normal" person would be spent, and that my health and energy levels are still compromised from two straight years of intensity, and I am only slowly recovering, and that it is okay to simply be tired today.

And so, I'm writing a daily "5" (not sure how many I'll accumulate today), and reminding myself of the moments of joy, the moments or things that made me smile, touched my heart deeply in some way, or for which I am deeply grateful:

1. I attended mass tonight at the cathedral downtown, as I sometimes do. It was lovely to sit again in the midst of quiet ritual and let the liturgy flow over me. I arrived about half an hour early, and sat in the quiet, prayerful church, fingering the rosary I bought nearly two years ago now at the Vatican, and letting my heart slowly quiet and seek out Jesus.
2. I was moved deeply by the older Indian lady who sat next to me during mass. Moved as I noticed her devotion, the way she fingered her rosary and wiped tears from her eyes as she knelt to pray after receiving the Eucharist.
3. I was moved by this post, these prayers, at shallowfrozenwater today.
4. I am thankful for the prayers of a friend last night. We've never spoken of the promise of shielding me that Jesus made to me a while back. Of the those things, but as we prayed together last night, and he prayed for me, he prayed simply that Jesus would teach me how to hold my shield. Words that spoke deeply to my heart, since he couldn't know of the promise they touched on.
5. I'm thankful for "The Feast of Seasons" - Steve Bell's Advent/Christmas album. Years of working in retail have left me with mostly disgust for Christmas music, but this album soothes the soul whenever I play it, at any time of year, but particularly as advent begins.
6. I'm thankful for the arrival of Advent (though I suppose I dread the pull of it as well). For the new year in the church calendar that it enters in.
7. I'm thankful for the moments where I am slowly learning to be gentle with myself. To not berate myself for simply wanting to fall apart in exhaustion. To not succumbing to overwhelming fear in the moments when I am so exhausted and teary and broken that those things mark something larger, perhaps a return of depression, rather than simply being the results of an incredibly challenging week.
8. I'm thankful that my parents live nearby, and were willing to loan me a car for the day tomorrow while George is being repaired, making in unnecessary for me to triple the length of my commute by taking public transit.
9. I'm thankful for a short chat with my brother this afternoon, laughing about his school work, and just generally enjoying a few minutes of each other's company.
10. I'm thankful that I made it to number 10 on this list! That there were 10 things that moved me or made me smile or made my heart thankful today. So many days it is such a challenge to find those 10, and today, despite the exhaustion was relatively easy, and that, too, is a blessing.
    

Stories, tea, exhaustion

I'm in that place where exhaustion has hit in a major way.

But my insides are speeded up and running in circles, refusing to be still.

The running on adrenaline place.

I had tea with T.'s girlfriend tonight to catch up after a summer in which we've both been incredibly busy.

As we talked, and I listened to my own recounting of the month of August, I was stunned at everything that has gone.

Most days I just sit in the slightly spun awe at the way my world is shaped right now.

At the crazyness of God and life and everything in between. (Though, as I write that, something wonders if there is really a need for any of those distinctions, if God and life and the inbetween aren't really one ineffable, undefinable whole...)

I told God stories and was amazed. I listened to her recountings and was equally empathetic and amazed.

But I am tired.

I told my roommate at dinner that if I had my way, I'd already be on my way to bed. You need to know me to understand that statement. I am definitely a night owl.

It's not yet 9 pm. I'll be in bed by about 9:15, with my lights out by 10, barring anything unforseen.

The plan is to do something quiet and still. To maybe read a little, watch a dvd, or just lay and let music play.

Because I need to still the spinning of my mind. The thousand directions it's going in the midst of this crazy, beautiful, incredibly busy time. If I can still it just a little, I may sleep. And sleep would be lovely.

Not quite sure...

I am trying to rest.

Stillness is hard.

My body physically refused to allow me to clean and putter tonight. I got home from work and a few after work errands, and collapsed. Thankfully, my roommate had made dinner. I ate, showered, and then, as my roommate put it "blobbed out" on first my bed, and then the couch.

My heart shies away from being still right now. I think I'm a bit afraid of what further depths of Jesus could mean. And yet, I long for Him...

Actually, my heart literally feels skittish, like it's skirting around the edges, but unwilling to draw near.

I woke at a very specific hour in the middle of the night (one of many times I woke through the night, but this one stood out) and found myself having thoughts of regret. Regret that I'd made a particular vow to Jesus. Regret that I needed to continue to live that vow out. The lines from the Bruggemann prayer I posted earlier today came back, as I considered what it was to once again discover the "hard deep obedience".

so, I'm again trying to find ways to choose life in the midst of this exhaustion... to find joy...