Grow

The sun was rising, glowing the high clouds and changing my complexion to a unique shade of purple and pink. Coworkers were hurrying to their cars in the cold November morning, not realizing the sky, concerned with their red noses and burning ears. I planted my feet to the side of the sidewalk and stood, in complete awe of the simple reminder of new mercies which are fresh every morning.

As I stood, I realized that beside me a coworker had also been frozen by the beauty rising in the sky. He looked over at me, I at him, and we both just smiled and turned our gazes back to the rising sun. He also knows about the new mercies. I silently thanked God for him. It’s good to know that there is at least one other person at my job who loves You, too. Where two or more are gathered. Thank you, Jesus.

After silent praises, I continued my journey down the sidewalk and to my car.  If not for the daily new mercies, I thought, I don’t know where I’d be.

Grow, move, re-plant, bear fruit. Bear fruit.

Bear Fruit.

“I am the vine,” Jesus said…Any branch that does not bear fruit will be cut off. Branches that do bear fruit, though, will be pruned so that they can bear more fruit.  (John 15:1-2)

During what I now refer to as  “the dark time” this last year, I’ve produced a small, terrible crop. I was not cut off – thanks to new mercies and a Father who continually gives Grace.  I’ve been pruned down. It’s tough to lose these bad limbs, it hurts. There will be growth, though, and new branches will bear fruit.

I thank God for grace and for giving daily reminders of mercy.

I thank Him for these small, simple times which I can breath in and know that growth requires a time of cutting down, of breaking.

Again – there will be growth.

The Chase

I was chased last night by a man completely intent on killing me.  It was 6:46 p.m. I was outside with three patients.

I ran away. Heart pounding.  Scared. Lost. 

I ran inside and screamed for help. Help reluctantly came, and one socio-path walked away – his intentions hidden by a cup of coffee and a group of police officers.

I took every inner strength I had and made myself hold in every emotion associated with “the chase” and walked out of work.  As soon as my car door slammed, I lost it. Not the normal cry – but an absolutely outstanding wail.  Everything came out. My weight issues, my  never-ending homesickness, my lack of friends, the seemingly hopeless people I’m trying my hardest to help, and my relationship with the Lord.  Defeat.

When I got home for my one hour extra break, I sobbed to my neighbor who offered tea and a hug. I am so sick of this, I told her. I am sick of being chased by the enemy and feeling defeated. What’s wrong?

I’m not looking for solutions. I’ve done that. I know what they are.  I just can’t get out of this cycle.  I am scared to death to try the solutions. I don’t want to get hurt again.

I just don’t want to be let up on.  You know? I don’t want God to let me go. He’s the only sense I have right now. 

So, please, God, help me.

When I got back to work, I sat in the back and waited until the next shift arrived. When I dared to go back out into the milieu to get ready to leave, I was hit.

I had the day off today. I hid in my apartment, underneath a giant fuzzy blanket. I watched netflix. I cried. I slept. I tried to read. I played about 30 games of bookworm. And now I’m writing.

Please pray for me. For Hope. For Courage. For Friends. For Peace.

Far Away

I’ve withered and crumpled. Any pressure which occurred this past year, crushed me. Any wind or storms which blew by carried my leaves and fruit with it.  I am so far away.

My constant focus has remained on how I am so far away - away from my family, friends, and everything I’ve ever known.  I spent so many days laying in bed, surrounded by Kleenex, wondering, aching, perplexed at my situation. I cried out to God so many times.  I was angry, confused, upset, depressed, and helpless.  I still am, but things are changing.

A few days ago, I picked my Bible back up.  My focus has not been on the Lord this past year. I’ve been consistently concentrating on myself. How can I get a good job? How can I make a name for myself?  How can I get letters behind my name? When can I go home to see my family?  What can I do to impress others? What a terrible, selfish cycle I’ve been in.

I’ve forgotten about His affections, His peace, His comfort.  I’ve forgotten that He wants to be my all. I’ve allowed myself to be far away. 

Still, steadfastly, He has never let go, nor let me completely wither in these self-created storms.

So…This is where I am at: I am a child of God. He absolutely must be my only focus.

Because…

I want to be in love with Him again.

Period. 

“Hallelujah. Every breath is a second chance. This is always always always Yours.”

Are You there?

I think one of the hardest parts of being homesick is the absolutely paralyzing feeling of yearning, but not being satisfied.  Today my yearnings have consisted of: Yearning to close my eyes, open them, and be back at home.  Yearning to be able to hold my nephews. Yearning to be able to just go over to a friends house, have a cup of coffee, and listen to music.  Yearning to be able to know that its safe to take a walk in the neighborhood.  Yearning to be able to know that I have a support system nearby.

Yearning to be home.

Homesickness has become a virus.  I don’t know what to do to make it go away. It has weighted me. I’ve had tremendous spiritual struggles, physical struggles, emotional and mental struggles, and, the worst of all, relationship struggles.   I hate it.

So many friends and relatives have offered advice, prayers and love. I appreciate them beyond words. It’s refreshing and comforting. So, if you are one of those people, thank you, and please don’t stop, even though you’re all far away and probably fed up with me.

I’ve started reading articles about homesickness and ways to get over it.  Am I beyond help?  I don’t know if this has grown into depression, anxiety, or some type of disorder that I need to seek help for.  This consistent yearning has left me withering in a desert with no oasis.  What should I do?

There are many opportunities for me to get up, go out, and be active. I know this. I know it will help me. Maybe its fear that’s holding me back, or maybe its just the simple lack of motivation. I want to meet new friends, I’m just scared of what they will see.  Does this make sense to anyone?  I know how to socialize. I know how to make friends. I’ve done a good job in the past. What am I missing now?  A lot of the women at the church we’re attending have children, and I think that maybe they just don’t want to befriend an overweight, eccentric idealist who does not have any children.

I just want one good friend who shares my affinity of music and art. Someone I can just call up and chat with. Someone who appreciates the things I’m passionate about (social justice, organic living, traditionalism, music, photography). Someone who can meet me for a cup of coffee, or who can go on a shopping trip, or to an art museum.  Sorry if this portion of the blog is beginning to sound like a personal ad.  Seriously, though, if you want to be my friend, let me know. I really need one right now.

This may sound completely ridiculous to many of my far-away-friends, but I am pretty sure I’m losing my faith in everything. I don’t know if God is there or here today. I don’t know if my husband will always be there. I don’t know if anyone up here really genuinely cares for me (aside from David).  Right now, I yearn just to go home to my mom and cry and cry and cry, and hope that through my unloading maybe one ray of hope and one ray of satisfaction will shine, and maybe I will get better.  Just maybe.

This really sucks. I want you to know this – I want the world to know this. Maybe someone has been where I’m at – and maybe they can offer some help.  I’m holding on. Holding on. And holding on.  What should I do? 

Montana

My desktop is set. The only free and open space I can look into appears as I open my chunky laptop.  Montana is for us.

I can’t say anything witty, obvious, or anything lovely. As a dear friend recently said, I can only be transparent.

Clear, I shall try to be.

It’s thick, this cellophane, spattered with grease and left-over tomato sauce. It sticks together, doesn’t rinse quite well, and really stinks. Sat too long in the fridge, I suppose.

Noise. The pitter patter of our ceiling fan annoys my skin. I can feel it clang my pink toes and chill my forearms. The buzzing breeze producers white out my being. My blood vibrates whenever a black Cadillac with 20 inch rims rolls by, polluting the cold clang and clack of our 10’ by 10’ room.  Bus riders alike yell four letter words to their young and each other as the screeching brakes of the white boulder invades our window. 

Paralyzed. I can’t get off the couch to turn on the light. I can’t move. I can’t breath here. Where is the silence?  Where are the stars?

Passion.  Covered by books, dolce and gabbana,  dead music, and fear of waking the neighbor. 

Other half. Always trying his hardest. Always seeking. Always asking. Always encouraging. Always my better half.

Time. Dripping out of these pores and onto this dirty carpet. Swinging with each Kleenex that covers the floor. Piercing. Leaving. Gone.

God. The only One who can help me breath, move and speak.

I need more of You.

I need help. 

I want Montana.

But You know best.

You say “trust me.”

But It’s so hard when all I have is noise, when all I am is paralyzed, when my passion is gone, when my time is wasting, and when my heart is smothered with bricks.

Help me, please.

Marriage

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a few weeks, but nothing really ever came out. It has served as a nice white space which I could fill with lots of uninhibited rhetoric, which is something that could be very therapeutic right now . Usually the posts would start with a ridiculous  saying about marriage: for example: Marriage is like a box of chocolates…you just never know what you're gonna get. 

Anyway, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m married now. At the risk of sounding very cliché, I’ve earned my MRS, which entitles me to warm hugs in the morning, feet rubs at night, gross husband  farts, strong arms to hold me, and a lot of  love, and kisses. And I love him. I love him.

He loves me. He prays for me. He reads me scripture every night (we’re in Joshua right now). On our wedding night, well, it was very romantic… I’d like to keep a veil over that and  cherish it.

Marriage is… different. It definitely wasn’t what I had expected it to be.  I would DREAM about this time.  Being a newlywed is supposed to be the best time of your life, right?

This has been the strangest time, though, as my situation is probably different than most newlyweds.  I moved to a huge city from a small rural town. My family, beautiful nephews, and friends are all five hours south west of me. 

Homesickness cannot be cured by my husband’s  hugs and kisses. Does it even have a cure?

I may always ache for gravel roads, the tart smell of fertilizer, my nephews racing to greet me with huge grins, and for my mom and dad’s hugs.  Right now, all that seems to be working is consistent prayer, and a realization that David is my home now.  And I am SO blessed that he is.

Please pray for us.

Marriage is…lovely. David is amazing. He is my other half. I know when he’s up to something – he gets these sparkles, little glints of mischief in his eyes. I look forward to the day when we can finish each other’s sentences without saying a word.

I am blessed to have such a wonderful man as my leader.

Home

I never really knew what "bittersweet" meant until five days ago.


As 7 a.m. rushed in, I took my cat, Phillip, and placed him in my little red car, crammed to the brim with clothes, sheets, towels, boxes and shoes.



Sigh.



This was it.



Small town nostalgia and rich memories clouded over as I gazed at the blinking seat belt sign.



Sigh.



This is it.



My life, turning a new page...starting a new adventure. Keep me at peace, Lord.

I miss the rural simplicity of New Market already.

Although, I am enjoying the closeness of everything. I am literally a short walk away from a Panera Bread, the lights of an Applebees light up the neighborhood, and I am only five minutes away from a Target, Old Navy, Kohls, Gander Mountain and Sam's Club...and a bunch of other stores.

It doesn't beat being only three blocks away from my handsome little nephews, four blocks from my parents, and three blocks from my grandparents. It doesn't beat being only ten minutes away from a state park, or being able to drive down a gravel road, surrounded by aging corn stalks.

The convienience of things is sweet, but being away from my family and friends is quite bitter.

David has been so supportive in this move. I haven't been in the best moods, but he has been relentlessly patient and sweet, even when I've reached my last nerve. David is doing so well, and treating me so well. I really am blessed. Thank you for David, Lord.

If you are my sister, or my brother, you know that this world is not our home. We are merely aliens, waiting to get our promotion. As I have searched for where "home" is this week, I have found comfort in knowing that no matter where I go, what I do, where I am living, I have a home in the Lord. He is always there, always waiting for me. Thank you, Jesus.