Slowing Down

Biggest thing I need to do right now is slow down.  I’ve got to stop working so much at Wal-Mart.  I’ve written a letter (since no one is actually in the personnel office during any of my shifts, that’s annoying) informing them that they really DO need to keep my hours at my requested number and STOP going over my maximum allowable.  I’m not going to make it if they don’t.

As it is, as much as I like having met Jessica and I (normally) like interacting with people, I hate going…

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but I need the money.

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I hate money.

Boys… and……….. well, no, just boys

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How do you talk to a boy about something you don’t want to talk to GIRLS about but you may feel you may be honor-bound to discuss it?  At least in some way?

 From a meeting agenda outline:Remember last time we met… as a leader you have a big responsibility.  Your students look to you as an example of what it means to live like Christ.  God holds leaders to a higher standard so make sure you think through everything you do as a leader. 

It goes beyond that, though, doesn’t it?  Beyond watching how you act when you’re being the leader?  I know that note was an intentional reminder for some of our younger leaders.  And I’m supposed to be a leader among leaders…

And I feel like such a fraud.  I missed my first event in this leadership role last night… I couldn’t make myself get out of bed and go… I couldn’t make myself put on a mask.

And I can’t make myself talk with some people… b/c I know they’ll just make me feel guilty… not really their fault, my issues of seeing them on some type of pedestal, but still… I don’t want to feel guilty b/c I’ve not lived up to someone else’s standards.  If I’m going to feel guilty it’s got to be b/c I haven’t lived up to GOD’S standards.

And that’s girls I’m talking about.  I certainly don’t want to talk to boys about my sin issue.  Even boys I love and who I know love me… even if that boy is in a leadership position for me…

Anyone want to run away to Alaska?  ‘Cause at this point, I’d go on my own…

Broken

 

 

broken_windows.jpg

How do we define brokenness? 

The American Heritage Dictionary states:

bro·ken  
v.   Past participle of break.
adj.  
1.              Forcibly separated into two or more pieces; fractured: a broken arm; broken glass. 2.              Sundered by divorce, separation, or desertion of a parent or parents: children from broken homes; a broken marriage. 3.              Having been violated: a broken promise. 4.               a.                       Incomplete: a broken set of books. b.                      Being in a state of disarray; disordered: troops fleeing in broken ranks. c.                       Intermittently stopping and starting; discontinuous: a broken cable transmission. d.                      Varying abruptly, as in pitch: broken sobs. e.                       Spoken with gaps and errors: broken English. f.                        Subdued totally; humbled: a broken spirit. g.                      Weakened and infirm: broken health. 5.               a.                       Intermittently stopping and starting; discontinuous: a broken cable transmission. b.                      Varying abruptly, as in pitch: broken sobs. c.                       Spoken with gaps and errors: broken English. d.                      Subdued totally; humbled: a broken spirit. e.                       Weakened and infirm: broken health. 6.              Topographically rough; uneven: broken terrain. 7.               a.                       Subdued totally; humbled: a broken spirit. b.                      Weakened and infirm: broken health. 8.              Crushed by grief: died of a broken heart. 9.              Financially ruined; bankrupt. 10.          Not functioning; out of order: a broken washing machine.  

I find this ordering so fascinating.  It’s fascinating to me that one word can mean so many things (if you look up break you have many, many more definitions).  In 3 of the 10 definitions we see the use of “broken” to mean humbled or subdued… a “broken” spirit.  But it’s very “Christianese” to say “Lord, please break me.”  I wonder how many times we really wish that to happen.  Because look again.  NONE of those definitions are good or happy.  Even when God “breaks” us, it’s going to come with discomfort and unpleasantness.  I may expound on that later.

What makes me think so much about the idea of brokenness at this moment, however, is not that type of brokenness.  I’m a bit too overwhelmed by physical brokenness at the moment to focus on spiritual brokenness.

After the events of October 17th, the only emotion I really had was of elation.  I wasn’t BROKEN!  For years I had thought I was.  Despite the fact that doctors couldn’t find anything medically wrong with me, things just didn’t seem to “work”.  Like definition 10… parts of me didn’t “function…” or didn’t function correctly.  And after I found out they did, they could, I was elated.

But I realize that that was only a small part of feeling “fixed.”  I might not be actually broken in a physical sense, but I still feel broken.  So what’s wrong with me?  Then I realize that that is the last, final definition… the least.  And it stops me cold.  When dictionaries rank their definitions, the do it by commonality of usage.  And I realize the ranking works for me as well.  I wish I had realized that before.  A month ago, if you had asked me what my biggest fear is, I would have told you that it was that I’m broken.  In a physical sense.

A month ago, I found out I’m not broken.

  

If you asked me today what scares me most?  It’s the fear that I will always be broken.  Because my brokenness supersedes my functionality as a female human being.  My brokenness comes from being in a state of disarray.  My brokenness comes from being incomplete.  My brokenness comes from having been violated, in so many different ways.  And my brokenness comes in being inherently fractured.  How could I think fixing one would fix it all?  And how can the dictionary so delineate the true meaning of brokenness?  Because brokenness is a state of being that encompasses all of those qualities and characteristics.  It is not a cut and dry idea to be so easily “broken” into nice neat definitions. 

And so we go back to my original discussion where people ask God to break them…  Again I ask, do you truly want to be broken?  Because being broken isn’t easy, it never has been and never will be.  And there’s a difference between believing God can heal the broken and believing God can heal you.  There’s a difference between believing God is bigger than any brokenness and believing God is bigger than YOUR brokenness.  And there’s a difference between believing God will be there in times of need and believing God will be there in Your times of need.  It’s a subtle difference, but a powerful one. 

And so I cling to what I know, not what I feel.  And I cling to what I believe in the vast greatness of God and hope that He can also be small enough to provide for my smallness.

  

But even in that, I feel my grip slipping.

I know it’s been a long, long time

Well, I know in my last blog entry I said I probably wouldn’t write again for awhile because I no longer have the laptop… and that’s very true… but let me tell ya… I’m not sure even if I DID have the laptop I would have been blogging much.  Between the credit union and Wal-Mart, life has been crazy.  I feel like I’m at work all the time!  I know it’s only for a period in my life, but I can’t even see how long that period is right now.  I don’t even have time to sit down and work on a budget, and isn’t that the point of me having a second job?  So I can work within a budget and get debt paid off?

And my depression has manifested.  Not only am I sad a lot now, and tired, like always, but I have all this pent-up rage.  I know I’ve gone through periods in my life like this (aka my teenage years), but now, as an adult I know it’s completely unacceptable to sit down and throw a temper tantrum or to throw every dish in my house at the wall.  Which just frustrates me more escalating the rage.  My doctor seems concerned about this and has changed up my medication (and given me this blue foamy thing to hit when I’m mad J  That just makes me laugh sometimes).  I’m not sure it’s entirely working though.  One thing I can say about Wal-Mart… it really shows my extremes… my total highs where my coworkers are encouraging me to go outside and run around the building a few times to work off some energy… and my total lows where I just want to scream at everyone “What the HELL is EVERYONE doing her on Saturday afternoon!!!!!!!!!!”  I can’t decide which “me” is harder to reign in.

Lots has happened since I last blogged… obviously.  I don’t even think I was working at Wal-Mart (or potentially working at Wal-Mart) the last time I wrote.  I’ve changed my availability schedule since signing on with them b/c I’ve made it to one church service in the last month and a half.  And I think that’s effecting me a lot.  I’ve made some really major decisions/mistakes these last couple of months… I think things just get off when I’m off my spiritual schedule.  I’m totally not legalistic in my religion, but schedule is important to my health in a lot of ways, so I don’t doubt it’s important to me spiritually.

And the biggest thing is I can look at some of the things that have happened, that I’ve done and I have one of three responses:

1.  In my high moments I’m like, “who gives a flying $*#&, live a little”

2.  In my low moments I’m self-deprecating and overly critical of myself and I get TOTALLY pissed:  at myself and at the “rules” that make me hate myself

3.  When I’m like I am now, so exhausted by either emotion and wanting to totally shut down, I just want to shut down… I’m not remorseful, I’m not repentant, I’m just ready to give up…

On everything.

I’m not really sure who I hate more… the overly happy me that annoys even me or the me who hates everyone and everything…

  

And so I try my hardest to reside in the me that is neither high nor low, here nor there.  The me that is nothing, the me that is nowhere… The me that calls off work and sleeps for 22 straight hours…  The me that would rather stay in her room than venture out and risk seeing someone who might ask her to feel or be… the me that at this moment wants nothing to do with anyone ever again… and can’t think of any plausible way to make that feeling go away… and thus begins to think of ways to give in