hiding in plain sight

This month has been rough... stressful, frustrating, painful... not one I want to redo.

Work has been a challenge. Since day one in 2003, I've doubted whether I should have ever chosen teaching as my profession. The past few weeks have brought that question back to the forefront. I have to admit, year six has been the easiest by far. I've finally found my stride, and I'm confident in what I'm doing. My new school is actually a decent place to work. People are happy there... but I still don't really care for teaching. That, however, is nothing new.

The thing that has been most different has been my social life. I actually have one. I've stayed busy with both old friends and newer ones. I've never been this busy with people. Ever.

In spending so much time with people, I've become painfully aware of how far I've fallen back inside myself. I go out several times a week, but few of these people really know me. I've kept them outside. My walls have gone back up. As I've slipped rather quickly back into my old comfortable habits, no one has noticed... because they don't know to look.

Two years ago I was less obviously social, but the people who I did spend time with knew me deeply. They knew my whole story, beginning to end, down to the most shameful details. They knew what my struggles were and noticed when I was starting to head down a dangerous path. Those relationships were excruciating for me because they required a kind of trust I still lack, but they also produced more growth and change than any before or since. I miss that.

I can list several big triggers in my life right now, but without a doubt, the biggest one is knowing that I will be making my way through the day alone and unknown, wishing that I had someone to talk to who would really understand. That one's hard to fix...

week two

The past week has been hugely frustrating.

By the time I picked my class up Monday morning I was pretty sure that it wouldn't go well. Unfortunately, I was right. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from the stress of the previous week, so every little thing felt like the end of the world. Not to mention the fact that my job is pretty emotionally demanding. Five year olds are needy, and they can't turn that off when I have nothing left to give. I was barely getting by taking care of myself. I was not up to taking care of 16 other people. At any rate, I survived... barely. My desk has morphed into one big pile of relevant verses, and just reminding myself to believe them has been a full time job.

As I prepare for tomorrow, I'm feeling a rising sense of dread. The weekend has been wonderful, but tomorrow I'll be back in the real world, dealing with all the stress that goes along with it. I know all the right answers... trust God, cry out to Him, immerse myself in His truth... and all of those things DO lessen the stress. I've been in survival mode for two weeks though. I can't sustain this much longer.

Despite the frustration and mood swings and fear of what they may mean for my future, I am clinging desperately to the joy I have. I heard a really great definition for joy a few weeks back: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God no matter what. I've been repeating it to myself hundreds of times a day over the past two weeks. Trust leads to peace which leads to joy. The trust is what gives me the peace and joy I need to get through the day... so trust is what I'm working on.

the longest week

I started this week with exciting news: as of last Monday, I'm no longer on an antidepressant. I'm still taking my other meds for now, but hey... it's a step. The rest of the week has been varying degrees of nightmarish as I've experienced basically every withdrawal symptom ever documented.

This morning I awoke to what I hope is the light at the end of the tunnel. I can stand up without losing my balance. I don't want to scream at everyone around me. I think I might make it through school tomorrow without wanting to cry. I feel like myself again, and that's a huge relief. The true test will be to see how I feel in a month, two months, six months...

Part of me doubts that my mood will remain stable without this drug (it's the first thing that had any lasting impact on my mood swings), and the rest wonders if that's selling myself and God short. I'm not the same person who started this particular medication almost 18 months ago. Even this week, as I felt so overwhelmed I could hardly breathe, I turned to Him... to His promises to give me strength and never leave me or give me more than I can handle... and I made it through.

I'm both anxious and encouraged for the days to come... to see what healing and life they will hold!

a new, boring year

The past few weeks have been long and relatively uneventful. The two most interesting events? I've started running, and I have a college intern in my classroom for the semester.

So, event one... running. Last year I took up cycling which I enjoyed, and ever since, I've been tossing around the idea of a sprint tri. Most people seem to be scared off by the swimming piece, but for me it's been running. I hate it. Perhaps it's the memories of miserable predawn runs in middle school or the fear of agitating my old knee injury (more likely it's that I'm lazy...). Regardless, I've never been a fan. Why did I finally give in? We planned a trip to Hawaii. Nothing like the threat of a week spent in a swimsuit to motivate me to exercise!

I've made it an entire month now without quitting, and this week I noticed I actually look forward to running after work some days. It helps that I can see the effects... my legs are looking and feeling stronger, and when we rode last weekend, the ride was a breeze. Maybe I've made it over the hump.

Now, event two... intern. Last fall, after watching a pretty awful teacher mentor someone, I offered to take a student teacher. On Tuesday, she came for the first day of her first semester. Assuming all goes well, she'll split time with me and a 4th grade teacher at my school through her graduation next fall. Crazy!

After day one, she seems great. I think I'll enjoy having someone around to help out, and it's nice that she thinks I know what I'm doing! I have to admit though, I felt SO old. I'm not, really. I'm only 5 years older than she is, but I remember how old I thought 27 was when I was 22. And it is a big difference life experience wise. I've been teaching for SIX years (a point I never intended to reach), married for over three. She's still in college.

Anyhow, the spring promises to be interesting. I'm preparing for a 5k in March, just before our trip, and I just have a feeling this whole intern thing will provide lots of entertainment.

Maybe my entries will pep up soon...

the reason why

Lately I keep getting the same question: why do you go to a church where you feel so alone? Some days I have a hard time answering. Other days it's almost laughably easy. This week I've had some of both...

However, twice last week I was reminded of why I chose Watermark and why I've resisted all the suggestions to move on. Last Tuesday we spent the evening hanging out with two of the little girls from my small group at their family's Christmas party. They happen to live a few blocks away, so their parents invited me even though we'd only met in passing as they dropped off and picked up their girls. I was pretty nervous when I walked in their house and knew no one, but I shouldn't have been... we met some new neighbors (who also go to our church) and were welcomed with open arms.

But, my favorite part of this holiday was probably the Christmas Eve service. I love going to the late night service regardless, but this year it was amazing. I'll be honest: I remember very little of the beginning. It was late. I was sleepy. I'm sure it was wonderful. What I do remember wasn't how beautifully the room was decorated or how movingly Todd spoke... I remember the stories of life change that were shared. A line of at least 20 people walked one by one onto the stage holding plain cardboard posters. One side had their story before. The flip side had their story now. A song played in the background, but no one spoke a word. It was so simple and so moving.

As I sat in my chair in the middle of the almost filled auditorium, I connected. I knew many of the people on that stage and had heard their stories in full, and I knew that I could just as easily be there myself. Three years ago I didn't have a story to tell, not one that I recognized anyway. Now I struggle to find words to express my gratitude for God's grace. I'm humbled by the healing I've found... and I'm thankful for a church where people are willing to admit their struggles, no matter how shameful or dirty they may seem.

And as a side note... my girls had some encouragement tonight too. They were having a hard time grasping the idea that you could do a good thing for a selfish reason, so I gave the example of me singing just so people would compliment me or like me rather than to honor God. Then one of the girls said "Well your wish came true." I thought, ok... they still don't get it, but I asked her what she meant. Her response? "Well, now you get to sing for God and for us, and we like it." Then another one chimed in "And we LOVE you!!!"

I guess my dream did come true... I hadn't even noticed.

avoidance

I have an assignment I've been avoiding for, oh, about two months now that sounds relatively easy on the surface: journal about what I believe God is teaching me through the current events of my life.

At the moment I've given up on completing the actual assignment, and I've taken to looking at what about this assignment has driven me to avoid it for so long. I think it's pretty simple: I'm afraid to admit what I fear God may be trying to teach me. If I keep avoiding, it might not happen, right?

If I had to pick a theme for my life since August, the obvious choice would be loneliness. The significant community I'd created over the past year and a half has shrunken to only a small core... the safety net I'd come to rely on was pulled out from under me, and I still don't like it. Looking back, I was maybe a bit too reliant on the opinion and advice of others at the expense of listening to and searching for what God had to say, and over the past few months I've definitely been given the opportunity to get myself out of that habit: when I had nowhere else to turn, I became more willing to turn to the Bible for support for my feelings and beliefs.

The topic this week of the small group I lead was purity... more specifically the idea that if we desire purity we have to listen to, obey, and TRUST God... and, as always, I'm pretty sure I learned more than the girls. I'm struggling with the trust piece right now. I don't like the lesson I'm learning or the road it might be leading me down, and I want life to go my way. I want the good without the struggles, the growth without the pain. The resistance is most obvious when faced with the statement that when it comes to relationship, God alone has to be enough. I immediately pull back. I can accept that idea cognitively, but my heart still begs for something tangible. A person to hold me when I'm crying. Someone to speak words I hear with my ears. A place to physically run when life feels unbearable.

So what do I fear? I fear that learning to accept that God can comfort and love me without any help may mean this is only the beginning of my season of loneliness. I fear that THIS is the reason my community has been stripped away and my attempts to rebuild it have been met with frustration and failure.

Well, I guess I'm finished with my assignment now...

why i HATE the car dealership

The trunk of my car will not close. Apparently this is quite humorous to most people... I am not one of those people.

I see a variety of reasons that this is a problem, not least among them the fact that it's been raining and sleeting all evening, so we take the car to the dealership. They're all "No problem. It'll be ready in two hours." and I think "GREAT! AMAZING!! How very simple!!!" and come home smiling because in two hours I will have a car with a CLOSED trunk. I should have known it was too good to be true.

One hour and forty-five minutes later, they call back and say they don't have the part. I'm already highly annoyed with the fact that it took almost the whole two hours for them to realize that they couldn't even start to fix my car when they mention that, OOPS! They can't actually fix it for TWO WEEKS. Seriously. They have no better solution than to tie it partially shut for the next 14 days and hope for the best.

I guess I better start praying for good weather... and a better attitude.