breathing

i have a confession to make.

i suffer from an anxiety disorder (as if that was not screamingly obvious from my last post), as do all the women in my family. it's been interesting to watch the disorder change over time in each of us, as our circumstances change and life rolls on. my mom "accepts" her lot as her fault and suffers accordingly, my sister overmedicates, my niece self-medicates and self-destructs, and i... well i've been better, and i've been worse. which begs the question - where is this lasting, inside out change that christianity promises?

yes, yes. the pious call it sanctification over time. the atheists call it brainwashing. medical professionals and mental health professionals, in rare agreement, call it maturity over time culminating in wisdom - sagacity. i'm not sure what i call it, other than painful and disruptive, at present.

i do find that it's changed over the past year. it's become more pervasive - more intrusive. it interrupts my sleep - when i can actually sleep. it crowds out thoughts and comes unbidden into just about any situation. and it feels different too. it used to be a general unease and an inability to turn off my brain at night. it's now much more debilitating and affects me physically... which is why running is such a joy and a triumph for me - running is 90% mental and i rejoice in developing that discipline.

but the bitch of suffering from such a hidden dysfunction (chemical imbalance is rather difficult to detect in your average bear, at least at first glance) is that i am just about universally perceived as confident, capable, intelligent, trustworthy. a person of integrity and character. and in that perception, even if it echoes with truth, people fail to realize just how alone, afraid, and increasingly fragile that persona has become. that is quite a solitary place to exist.

the anxiety manifests differently these days, as well. i first became aware of the disorder during my separation and subsequent divorce over 10 years ago. i've managed it with medication, education, and faith. so why are the thoughts more pervasive, more disruptive, more frequent, more potentially damaging? i'm still medicated. i'm still educated - can't really go backwards on that one, right? so that leaves faith.

i have another confession to make.

my faith in God-the-Father, Jesus-the-Savior, and the Holy Spirit-counsellor has dwindled into something unrecognizable as faith. i've can't even muster up anger about His perceived indifference to my plight. i'm tired of fighting, tired of trying to understand Him, tired of trying to fix whatever it is that i fucked up so badly that grace can't or won't cover it. i'm tired of semi-jokingly referring to myself as jacob, wrestling with the angel in an exercise in futility. i'm just tired.

i have another confession to make.

after 10+ years of regular attendance in church, bible studies, and community groups, i have not stepped foot inside the door of a church in almost 9 months. NINE. wow - i just had to count that out on my fingers to make sure i had that right. that's crazy. i used to spend between 4 and 6 hours every sunday afternoon/night FOR OVER TEN YEARS investing in people and a vision that i truly, deeply believed in. those same people didn't even realize i was gone when i moved, and they surely haven't sounded the trumpets upon my return to BR. don't hear me casting stones here - i've made almost zero effort into reintegrating into that community.

does the lack of one lend to the progression of the other? likely. i had a brief conversation via text tonight with one of the very few people with whom i've stayed in contact with since october. she was wondering if and when i'll be returning to our church, and my most honest answer was not anytime soon. i read resignation and obligation in her words, but i know a bit about her heart, and it's more than that for her. she fiercely believes all that our church lacks will come with the fullness of time. i wish i shared her conviction. i really do.

i have a confession to make.

i want to be known, loved, and valued... i suspect we all do. and i want to offer the same, unconditionally. but i don't know how anymore, if i ever knew in the first place. i want to sleep. i want to succeed in life. i want to be able to support myself. i want my life to be significant. i want to offer light and hope, authenticity and transparency. i want religion stripped away and simple faith to prevail. i want to NOT wake up 15 times a night, on the verge of panic about some small but important thing that needs attending. i want to stop hearing taunts of failure and mediocrity.

there was a time in the life of this blog where i stated vociferously that i wanted to live fully alive in Christ. i don't even know what that means anymore. i'm reading a book about the life of paul, and in the narrative, there is a moment when young saul travels to jerusalem for his sister's wedding. he finds himself on the first night in that holy place unable to sleep, troubled deeply in his soul. he decided, during a crisis of faith, to love God whether He loved him back or not. i am not so devoted. but i believe he wanted the same thing that haunts me tonight - i want to be able to sing these words:

standing on this mountaintop 

looking just how far we've come 

knowing that for every step 

You were with us 

kneeling on this battle ground 

seeing just how much You've done 

knowing every victory 

is Your power in us 

scars and struggles on the way 

but with joy our hearts can say 

yes, our hearts can say 

never once did we ever walk alone 

never once did You leave us on our own 

You are faithful, God, You are faithful 

never once did we ever walk alone 

never once did You leave us on our own 

You are faithful, God, You are faithful 

You are faithful, God, You are faithful


scars and struggles on the way 

but with joy our hearts can say 

never once did we ever walk alone 

carried by Your constant grace 

held within Your perfect peace 

never once, no, we never walk alone 

never once did we ever walk alone 

never once did You leave us on our own 

You are faithful, God, You are faithful 

every step we are breathing in Your grace
evermore we'll be breathing out Your praise

You are faithful, God, You are faithful 

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

-- never once, matt redman

fear

i'm supposed to be going to bed. well, i am in bed but i'm nowhere near exhaustion, which is what's required these days for me to fall asleep.


sigh. i just set my alarm clock for the first time in nearly 4 months. i worked so many hours that i would get home around 11 and just crash til my body woke up at 9. and another thing - before all that insanity, i used to set my alarm for 8 to roll out the door at 8:10 to be at work for 8:20-ish. if i miss anything about my last job, it's uniforms. yeah yeah. they were ugly and uncomfortable but at least they required absolutely no thought at all.


i had a feeling this would be a whiny-ish post. sorry. let's see if it takes us anywhere constructive.


i've been in this mood all day. i went to sleep last night, thankful for constant provision, and woke up this morning to the thought of, "oh shit. cameron likes coun--- COUNTRY --- music. oh shit shit shit." and that thought, of course, set me off on the tip of a spiral of pissed-off-edness. eh, well. grief comes in waves and it's disingenuous to lead you to believe that i'm ok all the time. because i definitely am not. most of the time, but definitely not all. today was a wallow-in-self-pity-on-the-brink-of-spirally day.


i'm trying to change that tonight. self-pity is selfish and shallow and so... annoying. trust me - i'm annoyed with myself. you can be too. it's totally ok.


so what set me off was being subject to country music all day. that thought makes me want to shoot someone. i absolutely abhor, no loathe, no. what's the word? I CAN'T FUCKING STAND COUNTRY MUSIC. how's that for using my stellar vocabulary? mom would be proud.


anyway. it's funny what's bothering me about going back to BPBR. it's not time-clocks or stoned college kid coworkers or even being a peon after being the boss. it's frigging country music. so what's up with that? i grew up listening to it. i owned an 8-track of john denver's greatest hits and knew more willie nelson when i was 7 than most people do in a lifetime (thanks, dad). seven spanish angels, anyone? no? 


ahhh. anyway. i listened to all forms of that crap all the way through my teens. my 20's were mostly grunge. somewhere in my early 30's i realized how... self-centered and small the country music genre is and it made me mad and sad at the same time. forget the stereotypical "my dog ran off and so did my wife i'll pay you for the dog and to keep the wife" crap. although that is pretty terrible. it's not even real. well, maybe there are folks out there who live that kind of life but who does so ON PURPOSE? and SINGS about it? GLORIFIES it? IMMORTALIZES it in song and in radio waves that travel only God knows how far into the universe? we even subject whoever inhabits the far reaches of space with that crap. i'm hopeful that tolkien's description of the angelic hosts singing in the early hours of creation (the silmarillion, page 3) is true and their voices drown out all the noise we send out.


oh yeah - fair warning - this blog is likely to become less and less politically correct. in case you haven't noticed that yet. i'd say i'm sorry to offend you, but that would be disingenuous too. not that my intent is to offend; my intent is to provoke you to think for yourself. it always has been.


so back to psycho-analyzing my reaction to country music. taking a stab at the obvious psychology, i'd say that this level of extreme negative reaction to something so seemingly innocuous as a music genre is rooted, as most things are, in fear. how's that for pulling wisdom outta nowhere?


so what do i fear? well, quite a lot of things, actually, although most would be surprised to hear me admit that. i seem to put off this... essence? of fearlessness. am i not the one who has "valiant one" TATTOOED on her back? as in a name bestowed by God Himself? yep, that's me. i can give you a long list of things i do not fear but what's the fun in that? let's hack away into the deep recesses of my psyche to see what's behind this fear that's masking as hatred of country music. goody. i'm sure i'll sleep much better once this is all out.


mediocrity. smallness - life, not stature. failure. repeated failure. lack of control of my surroundings. lack of control of my circumstances, for that matter. being one step away from homelessness. not being loved. not loving well. not being valued. definitely not being known. and being known. (that's a cruel double-edged sword i'll leave alone for tonight.) not leaving this world better than i found it. that i care too much about the land and not enough about people. not being able to hear His voice or worship Him fully and whole-heartedly. ah, the tears come and tonight, they are not cathartic. it doesn't help that i have "to the wild country" playing in my mind.


so how does one get from fear to hatred? of all the answers rushing to flow through these fingertips, only one is correct: eyes inward. not outward. not upward. faithless.


ouch. brutally honest even now. surprised? i didn't think so.


i could wrap this up with religious platitude. i could quote 15 scriptures off the top of my head that would make all of us feel better. but i find myself strangely resistant to make it that... thoughtless. and by "thoughtless" i mean "without thought". rote.


i need a JC reframe. in place of that, i sit hear with heart ruthlessly exposed and no shalom. the hounds are at bay for the moment... i can hear them, but they can't get through the door. i had a friend who used to bookend whoever or whatever she was praying for with Jesus, making a prayer out of simple sentence structure. example: Jesus ann Jesus. see? isn't that beautiful in its simplicity? i tweaked it a bit through the years, as it seems to help me truly place the Cross between me and all others, and place it before and behind those i pray for.


i used to be, and suppose i still am, considered to be somewhat of a prayer warrior, although in all honesty, that has not been true of me for quite some time. maybe the place to start again is here:


JESUS ann JESUS fear JESUS country music JESUS.

again

i started running again today.

there is such VICTORY in that simple sentence. it feels like REDEMPTION. like somehow, all that's happened in my past has been undone. no, not undone. FORGIVEN. REDEEMED.

HOPE.

strength and courage, friends. or should i say STRENGTH and COURAGE? yes, i believe so.

i know a PEACE tonight that i've not known in a very long time. i've been spending these late hours wrapped in anxiety and dread. but not tonight. maybe it's the endorphins. maybe it's the SATISFACTION of having begun a NEW NORMAL. or maybe it's the realization that my slate has been wiped CLEAN - that i can do and be ANYTHING and ANYONE i want. such FREEDOM in those statements. i can start COMPLETELY OVER. again.

and here's the thing - that's not written with an ounce of bitterness. that's written with JOY so... strangely out of place that i know it's HOLY. there was a time in the not-so-distant past where major life events sent me reeling, sometimes for years. but not anymore. not this time. not ever again.

i started running again today.