Saturday, November 22, 2008

Brain Cell Overload




I could be watering and trimming up my houseplants. They're in their 'molting' stage at the moment, dropping old leaves and showing lots of new growth. I could be down the block at a holiday bazaar, browsing the tables and knocking elbows with the crowd. I could be folding laundry. Instead, I sit here at my grandma's desk and seek refuge here. Mental refuge. It's been a week of heavy burdens. Two nites in a row I've awakened before 2 am and couldn't go back to sleep, my mind was spinning on overdrive. This morning the dreaded grocery shopping is out of the way and the house is mine. Well, mine and Chloe dog's, anyway. But outside of growling at me a little while ago to get my attention for a potty walk, she's at her observation point on top of the couch, growling at passing dogs and people. It's a busy pet-and-people day outside...lots of foot traffic going by. My daughter left an hour or so ago for work and Dear Hubby is deer hunting. Neither one is expected home until late afternoon. Good. I can use the quiet hours today.




I had to make an emergency run to Fred Meyer yesterday morning to buy a container of baby formula. I told Dear Hubby it was almost like culture shock, having five minutes to myself on a weekday without the babies at hand. My daughter sat with them for the 20 minutes it took to get my errand done and my greeting at the door was like I'd been gone for a week, between the grandbabies and Chloe dog. I can go out and empty the trash and Chloe dog will greet me like a long lost loved one as I come back inside. Yesterday as I pulled up to the curb I could see Chloe dancing across the back of the couch and Dylan came out on the porch holding his auntie's hand crying out, "Mom! Mom! Mom!" As I came up to him, he grabbed my hand with his and bent his head, cradling it to his cheek, and let out a deep "Aaahhhhhhhh!" It simply melted my heart. And Cooper was sitting in his play walker, grinning from ear to ear as I came inside. Oh, how sweet the love of little children is!




My sister-in-law's surgery went well. Thank you all for your kind thoughts and prayers. We won't know if she's completely out of the woods until the beginning of next week when test results come back, but the surgeon was optimistic. She'll be in the hospital for most of next week.




It's so hard to write when there's so much to say. Things on my heart. Things that need to be kept there. A woman's prayers. And as I struggled with another burden yesterday in the wee hours of the night, of the morning, it came to me to let it go. To just give it away and trust that Who I've given it to can handle the load so much better than I can. I'm a 'fixer'. A nurturer. It seems like I've spent the last 5o years being the strong one, the one relied upon for answers. I don't have the answers. I have no remedies for broken hearts and broken lives. I know how to do my own grieving but I don't know how to tell others who are grieving how to get thru it. Only that it gets better, easier, with the passage of time. There are no pat answers for the human conditions that come upon us all. Adversity and pain are too private, too exclusive, and what works for me might not work for you. I can shoulder my own burdens for the most part and work my way thru them with God's help but I can't tell you how to trust God. I can't explain the comfort there is in knowing He's only a prayer away for me.




Dylan has a little Playskool Train Station where the little train is stuck on the track and goes round and round in circles. Over and over and over again, with no destination. Just following the same path around the track.


"Incomplete"


One day I'll find relief

I'll be arrived

And I'll be friend to my friends who know how to be friends


One day I'll be at peace

I'll be enlightened

and I'll be married with children and maybe adopt


One day I will be healed

I will gather my wounds

forge the end of tragic comedy


I have been running so sweaty my whole life

Urgent for a finish line

And I have been missing the rapture this whole time

of being forever incomplete


One day my mind will retreat

And I'll know God

And I'll be constantly one with her night dusk and day


One day I'll be secure

Like the women I see on their thirtieth anniversaries


I have been running so sweaty my whole life

Urgent for a finish line

And I have been missing the rapture this whole time

of being forever incomplete


Ever unfolding

Ever expanding

Ever adventurous

And torturous

And never done


One day I will speak freely

I'll be less afraid

And measured outside of my poems and lyrics and art


One day I will be faith-filled

I'll be trusting and spacious authentic and grounded and home


I have been running so sweaty my whole life

Urgent for a finish line

And I have been missing the rapture this whole time

of being forever incomplete


~ Alanis Morissette ~


God, in my spiritual life, is a Him because He's called so in the Bible, but other than that, this song could be my life story. It could be most of our live's stories, don't you think?


Security? Is there such a thing, really? We go about on our little pathless train track of a life pretty much the same way, day in and day out. We hope for a good day and are grateful if it ends up being mediocre. Anything's a better alternative than a bad day. And, honestly, most days we live are decent. We're able to get out of bed in the morning. We go to work, come home, have dinner, spend a little time watching TV, and go to bed. And, honestly, there's nothing wrong with that. There is security in that, in the mundane habits and movements that make up our days. It's when something comes along that interrupts it, that rattles our rafters, that cracks our foundations, we begin to realize that Life can take on a spin of its own at times that leaves us anxious. Even a little fearful. We've been knocked off that little train track and we're headed into unknown territory with no compass to give us direction.


I've survived so many of those little detours. I guess that's what's taught me to basically face one day at a time. I hope for the best but don't forget the worst is out there as well. I've battled my way out countless times. I'm a fighter and I don't give up. I come out with nicks and scars and deep battle wounds at times but they're my Life's memorials. I can examine those wounds and scars and recount each battle won. And I can treasure them for what they are. Life's lessons.

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