I am not broken, but sometimes I sense this lingering sadness, like some stain that won’t be cleaned away. Even when my heart is overwhelmed with joy (which is frequent) it exists in the shadows. I wonder if this is okay, even good; if it is simply part of the delicate balance of living and serves as a reminder that I am more than flesh and bone. I am spirit, made up of all the colors of my experience, like a great painting, with each color bleeding into the next until it becomes indistinguishable from its neighbor, ’til there is no longer a single color, a single pain, a single joy, but rather a collective whole that is my very being. I am a created soul, living the gift of humanness, and that soul must be nourished.
The truth is, I haven’t been nourishing my soul. I haven’t posted here in months, mainly due to illness. I struggle with an autoimmune disease with many symptoms, the worst of which is intense joint and bone pain. Sometimes, I hurt so much I can barely draw breath. The result is that I hunker down, go into survival mode, and quit *doing things* — I lose my sense of purpose, because I don’t have the strength and energy to feed my soul and participate in those things that make me who I am.
Well, I’ve started a book study with a group of people, and two things have already happened for me. The first is that I’m supposed to take an inventory of what I have to offer the world, which, the way I’m feeling, is nothing. How can I give to others when I myself am running on empty? (I haven’t actually done this assignment yet, and I know I will ultimately come up with a list. But trust me, it won’t be easy).
The second thing is that we’ll be reading the book Do Hard Things: A Teenage Rebellion Against Low Expectations. It’s a book for teens, written by teens, and I haven’t read it yet. Even so, just thinking about the title, it’s wormed its way into my brain and I keep asking myself, “When is the last time I did a hard thing?” Truth be told, I can’t remember.
So, dear reader, this is what I’ve done: I started by writing out a list I entitled My Envisioned Life. It included these categories: home, body, marriage & ministry, children, and creative expression. It gave me heart palpitations to write it, and I’m not kidding you. It is this indelible, irretrievable statement about who I want to be and what I want to do in the world, and making it was one of the biggest actions of faith I have ever committed. I know you’re curious what I wrote, but I’m too much of a coward to share it, at the moment.
Then I waited to see what God would drop into my mind to do. And the things He put there were hard. Hard, hard, hard. So I am going to do hard things, knowing I may fail, knowing that doing them may not help me achieve the things I want. The only guarantee I have is that things will never change if I do nothing. This is the beginning…
- I have made a correlation, through observation, between food and pain. When I eat wheat or corn, within about a half-an-hour, my pain level ramps up. So, I’m going grain-free. I did this once before, for fourteen months, and it is hard. It is the definition of hard. So every time I’m tempted to eat a bowl of cereal, I say to myself, “Do hard things, missy.”
- I must write. I simply must. It helps me. I have an assignment for my book study to journal, so this will be where I do it. I am committed to consistency, not frequency, so I will post once a week.
- I need a creative outlet. I’m not exactly sure what that looks like, or even the first step, but I will pray and explore until I find something that brings me satisfaction.
So, dear reader, I sign off. Hopefully, we’ll be seeing more of each other.
I was so delighted to get the email alerting me of this post as well as the tag on Facebook. You make me think and I need more of that in my life. This is why I wanted to do the book group. I am going to take what you have written and challenge myself as well. Thank you.
Your writing has an honesty and depth that very few ever accomplish. I’m amazed at how open you can be — it’s definitely a gift. 🙂 I’m not that open (as you know), and although I probably could be on a page which no one else would ever read, I do think that the ability to share one’s heart is also a gift (which you have). Doing hard things…well, you know how much I don’t enjoy that. Most of the ‘hard’ things I do come about because I choose them rather than the even harder alternatives. You are an inspiration and a challenge to me — both good, of course. 🙂