Last night I had a conversation with my manager at the restaurant. She's still very young - only 21, which seems centuries ago to me - and she's having relationship issues with her girlfriend. (Yes, she's a lesbian.) At one time I wouldn't have been able to see past her sexual preference, and though I still don't believe that God approves of homosexuality (though He desperately loves the homosexual), I don't look at her and see someone who's gay. I just see her - this wonderful, amazing person who has far more to bring to the world than she knows.
Anyway, those matters are beside the point, and though I want to explore them, I'll do so at another time. What I'm really driving at is the fact that this girl is in a relationship with someone several years younger who's really not ready for the kind of committed relationship that my manager is ready for. So despite the fact that they love each other, their relationship is falling apart at the seams as they both tug at each other - one desiring independence and convenient intimacy, and the other desiring something deeper and more fulfilling. It's been hard over the past few months to watch this girl I really love go through the near weekly drama that consumes their relationship, so when she asked for my advice last night, I gave her my honest opinion. No, I didn't tell her she should stop being a lesbian and "get right with God." While I believe that's what she truly needs, the soil of her heart isn't ready to hear that yet, and my advice without discretion would only serve to close her off to me should the time ever come that her heart is ready to hear the whole truth. The honest opinion I gave her was the opinion my best friend has given me regarding my relationships with men. And just like me, she's not entirely ready to act on it, even if she knows it's good advice. I told her I think she needs to walk away from this relationship and get involved with someone who's ready for the kind of relationship she really wants to be in. I think she has a lot to give, and getting involved with a more mature person who's ready for a relationship with less drama and more giving would do wonders for her.
I understand how easy it is to give that advice and how terribly hard - even impossible - it is to follow, even when you see the wisdom of it. And no doubt I feel for S (my manager) the same kind of compassionate concern my best friend must feel for me. I know she's not ready to let this relationship go, and so I know that her heart will continue to be battered as she holds out for changes that aren't going to happen.
It's hard to watch somone you love make choices that aren't in their best interest. You understand why they're driven to make those choices, but it hurts to know that those choices will only cause more pain in the long term. It's especially hard when that person has the kind of personality that S does. She reminds me so very much of my ex-lover sometimes. On the outside she's a hard ass who seems like she just blows stuff off, but the truth is she's this terribly vulnerable heart inside, a teddy bear who internalizes everything. In fact, despite her tough exterior, I think she gets wounded more deeply by things than the average person. And just as I'd love to do with him, sometimes I just ache to wrap my arms around that place inside her that is so bruised and hurting and heal it for her. I want to protect her and help her before she starts building walls and getting all hard like he has.
There are lots of people I know who make me feel this way, and it makes me wonder if that's a part of what God wants to do with my life. I want to fix the broken people. I never used to care beyond the superficial, but I remember asking God a long time ago to help me see people through His eyes and love them with His love. I guess I was expecting a lightning bolt from heaven to strike me with superhuman love and compassion, but that's not how it happened. I just know that somehow over the last ten years, my heart has become soft toward others so gradually and imperceptably to me that I don't know when I became a bawl-baby over them, but somehow I have. I look at people and I see beyond the surface. I look at M, another of my co-workers from the restaurant whom I just adore, and can't help but wonder what's going to happen to him when he wakes up someday and searches for meaning in his life beyond partying, one-night stands and getting stoned. I wonder why he is so driven to immerse himself in the crazy life he lives - what is it he's running away from? - and who among all his partying buddies will really be there for him when he's desperate and in need.
I can't explain it, but I just wish I knew where to start and how to make a true difference. I don't know why I get hit harder with some people more than others, but I do. It's just like I can see certain people hobbling around emotionally - some of them have already given up and they're just going through the motions like the walking dead, others are still striving and struggling and fighting to make something work out - and I want to get in there and fix them. I want to sit down with them inside their souls and cry big tears for all the pain in there and cover it all with warm, healing oil. I want to make it stop hurting and stop longing and stop warring so they can come out in the sun like innocent children and laugh and start fresh without those wounds that cripple them.
I remember being with my ex-lover and seeing some of those dark, wounded places in him. I felt so inadequate to even begin to heal them. The pain and the past were just too big, and it was a horrible feeling to know that I could wrap my arms around his body while knowing that he didn't know how to let me wrap my arms around his soul.
The truth is, though, I don't know how much any of us can heal one another. The creation can only do so much for itself before it has to turn to the Creator and say, "Please help. We're having a serious malfunction here, and we can't fix it." I don't believe He likes to see us hurting, but I think He's wise enough to understand that it's usually our pain that goads us until we have to look to Him for some kind of relief.
I suppose that the pain and loneliness I was talking about dealing with in my last post have been God's tools to make my heart soft toward others. I know what it feels like to hurt deeply, and so now it hurts me to see others feel that pain. I asked God to teach me compassion, so He gave the gift (albeit a somewhat dubious gift) of pain. Or so my Fundy upbringing would say. But as I've said before, not all Fundy ideas are completely out in left field. And though I know somewhere deep inside that He is the healing for all that pain, I'm still waiting for Him to come through and fill in those deep, lonely places that haunt me. Without His healing, I can only look on the pain of others with compassion; I have nothing else to give them. I'm just one more patient in this huge hospital of terribly broken people, wishing desperately that I had something more effective than snake oil to offer to my fellow patients.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Profoundly Alone
Maybe it's the lousy weather we've been having the past few days, but today I'm just having a hell of a time pulling myself out of the doldrums, and the disappointment with life in general that's been plagueing me is feeling a bit overwhelming. So despite that fact that this blog is supposed to be primarily about spiritual issues, I'm just gonna vent and get it all out.
I guess a lot of what I have to say comes back to spiritual stuff anyway, though on a much more personal note. One of the few things I miss from my Fundy days was the sense of direction I had. I was moving toward a clear destiny. I had no idea how the hell I was going to get there, but I knew where I was going. In retrospect, I don't think that destiny was a very good fit for me or all that closely related to God's real purpose for putting me here. In fact, I think this terribly difficult (at times) journey I'm taking now has far more to do with what He wants for me than even I can see right now. The problem is I can't see that far. All I see is a 30-year-old woman who's still single, working in an unsatisfying job, and having a hard time moving in any direction other than Nowhereville. I have all these dreams, but I feel like I'm stuck in neutral and can't move into realizing them.
For starters, I have so many adventurous things I want to do, but I'm not getting anywhere. Part of that has to do with the physical issues I've been fighting for nearly six months now. I sit on a ball all day at work to keep my hips from hurting, but that just makes my back sore. When I get out of bed in the morning or stand up after a lengthy period of sitting, I hobble around like an escapee from a geriatric ward. It's ridiculous. I'm thirty! I'm not supposed to wobble my way across the room like someone who's pushing ninety! Exercising hurts, so I don't get out to enjoy the beautiful world that soothes my soul and makes me feel closer to God. (Dammit! Stop crying, Amy!) It seems like nothing I do provides a permanent solution, and though my doctor assures me this will pass with physical therapy, there's this horrible fear inside me that I'm never going to feel normal and stop hurting again, and all those lovely dreams I have of snowboarding and climbing and exploring my world under the power of my own two legs will never materialize. And I hate how out of shape I've become. Last summer I was in the best shape of my life. Now, I get a bit winded from climbing a couple flights of stairs. I used to pass people while hiking uphill. This summer I've been able to get out once, and I had to drop to the back because I was in so much pain I couldn't keep up. I've gained a few pounds, and I hate it! What if all the dreams and desires I have to be extreme in the outdoors die inside me unrealized?
I'm also frustrated with my dead-end career. That's not to say I'm not thankful. Going through several months of unemployment last fall impacted me deeply, and when I start to complain to myself about how boring technical editing is, I remember that horrible fear that felt like a hand around my throat. I lived with that fear day after day when I couldn't find work. I may not love (or even really like) this job, but it pays better than anything I've ever had, and I work with some really great people who have become good friends. But what if I get stuck here? It's a legitimate fear. I have no formal education to propel me into an enjoyable career with an actual future. What I'm capable of means nothing next to my lack of education and limited experience. Of course, I've looked at going back to school, but who wants to start at the bottom when they're pushing 31? I don't relish 5-8 years of schooling (part-time school, full-time work) just to get a Bachelors. I've got to make a living and support myself. Do I want to spend the entirety of my thirties in school only to hit 40 with hefty debt from student loans and a body that's getting past it's prime, thereby limiting my ability to take up those outdoor loves? And if I went to school, what would I study? It's all a bit overwhelming.
To top it all off, I can't help feeling, most of the time, as though I am profoundly alone. (Oh boy! Here go the waterworks again! Aren't you glad you came to my pity party?) Part of this has to do with being single. Okay, a lot of it has to do with being single. It's not that I don't value my singleness. Actually, I do. In fact, I'm not in any rush just now to dash to the altar with anyone, but I would really like to be in a committed relationship with a man who actually WANTS to be with me and invest himself in a relationship with me. I'd like to have someone to cuddle with on the couch and talk to when I've had a bad day. I want someone to lay beside me in bed and keep me warm on cold nights and let me nestle my head into his shoulder. And you know, I'm really tired of all the people who don't get this because they have that already. I'm sick to death of people who get married at 19 or 20 or even 25 who don't have the foggiest of clues what it means to be lonely. (Yes, I know that sometimes the loneliest people are married.) I don't understand why the God of the universe would uniquely fit someone for a loving relationship and then not provide it. I'm tired of going months snuggling up to my pillow at night to help compensate for the empty side of the bed, and then finding someone who fits the bill (or seems to) only to have him turn into a certified asshole. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of compensating. I'm tired of finding myself wandering to the personal ads on Craigslist and staring at the ones who just want a cuddle on a lonely night and finding myself contemplating if it would be worth the risk that he might not be a lonely guy but a serial killer or a sex offender. (Don't worry. I've never called and I won't!) But seriously. Why do I have to be alone?
Now of course, some judgmental Fundy will say, "All of this is happening because you're not where you should be with God." You know what? Fuck you. I don't think God's afflicting my hips because I love hiking too much. Why would He keep me away from the places where my soul takes a deep breath and opens up to hear Him most clearly? I don't think He's pissed at me and leaving me without direction in life because I'm searching for authentic Christian spirituality instead of swallowing every traditional idea that's been shoved at me. In fact, I think He's happy that I finally started seeking something more substantial. And I suppose that, however Fundy-ish it might sound, even my loneliness has a purpose. But I'm sick to death of it, and I have these moments of desperation where I'm literally ready to look a bad decision in the face and make it anyway, despite knowing it's one of the worst things I could do, just to get a moment or two of relief from feeling so very alone. I guess I should be thankful for the friends who keep me from outright stupidity, and honestly I am, but there are moments when you just wish someone would let you jump off the bridge and get it over (No, I'm not talking suicide. I'm talking about acts of desperation.).
I'm sure all this sounds kinda scary to some people, and I don't feel like this 24/7, thank God. But I'm really at that "something's gotta give" place, and I'm all done with being alone.
I guess a lot of what I have to say comes back to spiritual stuff anyway, though on a much more personal note. One of the few things I miss from my Fundy days was the sense of direction I had. I was moving toward a clear destiny. I had no idea how the hell I was going to get there, but I knew where I was going. In retrospect, I don't think that destiny was a very good fit for me or all that closely related to God's real purpose for putting me here. In fact, I think this terribly difficult (at times) journey I'm taking now has far more to do with what He wants for me than even I can see right now. The problem is I can't see that far. All I see is a 30-year-old woman who's still single, working in an unsatisfying job, and having a hard time moving in any direction other than Nowhereville. I have all these dreams, but I feel like I'm stuck in neutral and can't move into realizing them.
For starters, I have so many adventurous things I want to do, but I'm not getting anywhere. Part of that has to do with the physical issues I've been fighting for nearly six months now. I sit on a ball all day at work to keep my hips from hurting, but that just makes my back sore. When I get out of bed in the morning or stand up after a lengthy period of sitting, I hobble around like an escapee from a geriatric ward. It's ridiculous. I'm thirty! I'm not supposed to wobble my way across the room like someone who's pushing ninety! Exercising hurts, so I don't get out to enjoy the beautiful world that soothes my soul and makes me feel closer to God. (Dammit! Stop crying, Amy!) It seems like nothing I do provides a permanent solution, and though my doctor assures me this will pass with physical therapy, there's this horrible fear inside me that I'm never going to feel normal and stop hurting again, and all those lovely dreams I have of snowboarding and climbing and exploring my world under the power of my own two legs will never materialize. And I hate how out of shape I've become. Last summer I was in the best shape of my life. Now, I get a bit winded from climbing a couple flights of stairs. I used to pass people while hiking uphill. This summer I've been able to get out once, and I had to drop to the back because I was in so much pain I couldn't keep up. I've gained a few pounds, and I hate it! What if all the dreams and desires I have to be extreme in the outdoors die inside me unrealized?
I'm also frustrated with my dead-end career. That's not to say I'm not thankful. Going through several months of unemployment last fall impacted me deeply, and when I start to complain to myself about how boring technical editing is, I remember that horrible fear that felt like a hand around my throat. I lived with that fear day after day when I couldn't find work. I may not love (or even really like) this job, but it pays better than anything I've ever had, and I work with some really great people who have become good friends. But what if I get stuck here? It's a legitimate fear. I have no formal education to propel me into an enjoyable career with an actual future. What I'm capable of means nothing next to my lack of education and limited experience. Of course, I've looked at going back to school, but who wants to start at the bottom when they're pushing 31? I don't relish 5-8 years of schooling (part-time school, full-time work) just to get a Bachelors. I've got to make a living and support myself. Do I want to spend the entirety of my thirties in school only to hit 40 with hefty debt from student loans and a body that's getting past it's prime, thereby limiting my ability to take up those outdoor loves? And if I went to school, what would I study? It's all a bit overwhelming.
To top it all off, I can't help feeling, most of the time, as though I am profoundly alone. (Oh boy! Here go the waterworks again! Aren't you glad you came to my pity party?) Part of this has to do with being single. Okay, a lot of it has to do with being single. It's not that I don't value my singleness. Actually, I do. In fact, I'm not in any rush just now to dash to the altar with anyone, but I would really like to be in a committed relationship with a man who actually WANTS to be with me and invest himself in a relationship with me. I'd like to have someone to cuddle with on the couch and talk to when I've had a bad day. I want someone to lay beside me in bed and keep me warm on cold nights and let me nestle my head into his shoulder. And you know, I'm really tired of all the people who don't get this because they have that already. I'm sick to death of people who get married at 19 or 20 or even 25 who don't have the foggiest of clues what it means to be lonely. (Yes, I know that sometimes the loneliest people are married.) I don't understand why the God of the universe would uniquely fit someone for a loving relationship and then not provide it. I'm tired of going months snuggling up to my pillow at night to help compensate for the empty side of the bed, and then finding someone who fits the bill (or seems to) only to have him turn into a certified asshole. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of compensating. I'm tired of finding myself wandering to the personal ads on Craigslist and staring at the ones who just want a cuddle on a lonely night and finding myself contemplating if it would be worth the risk that he might not be a lonely guy but a serial killer or a sex offender. (Don't worry. I've never called and I won't!) But seriously. Why do I have to be alone?
Now of course, some judgmental Fundy will say, "All of this is happening because you're not where you should be with God." You know what? Fuck you. I don't think God's afflicting my hips because I love hiking too much. Why would He keep me away from the places where my soul takes a deep breath and opens up to hear Him most clearly? I don't think He's pissed at me and leaving me without direction in life because I'm searching for authentic Christian spirituality instead of swallowing every traditional idea that's been shoved at me. In fact, I think He's happy that I finally started seeking something more substantial. And I suppose that, however Fundy-ish it might sound, even my loneliness has a purpose. But I'm sick to death of it, and I have these moments of desperation where I'm literally ready to look a bad decision in the face and make it anyway, despite knowing it's one of the worst things I could do, just to get a moment or two of relief from feeling so very alone. I guess I should be thankful for the friends who keep me from outright stupidity, and honestly I am, but there are moments when you just wish someone would let you jump off the bridge and get it over (No, I'm not talking suicide. I'm talking about acts of desperation.).
I'm sure all this sounds kinda scary to some people, and I don't feel like this 24/7, thank God. But I'm really at that "something's gotta give" place, and I'm all done with being alone.
Monday, August 18, 2008
New Ideas
It's been far too long since I posted, partly because some of the issues I'm wrestling with are just to personal to put out there, partly because I just haven't been in the mood, and partly because I haven't had the time or desire to make it happen. However, here I am again.
I've been doing a lot of thinking/wrestling over the issue I raised in my last post relating to that sense of God withholding Himself. I've hashed the matter through, and though I haven't really settled on an answer that fully satisfies me yet, I feel like I may be getting situated in a direction that could prove enlightening with a bit of forward momentum.
There is a thought that is slowly wending its way through my brain like a flashlight searching through a dark, abandoned building. I've been feeling angry at God for all of this, recognizing that it's not really His fault, but still feeling like He withheld what I needed to the point that it put me in a position where I was more vulnerable to weakness than I should have been. Granted, my choices are my own, but perhaps if He had done things differently, I wouldn't have made those choices. So I've been kinda pissed. Pissed that I was (and still am) weak and vulnerable. Pissed that He could have done something about it and didn't. Pissed that I trusted Him and walked away empty-handed. Somewhere in there I know it's not His fault, that He was the wise one and the love I needed was always there, but I haven't sorted it through yet. So this new idea is beginning to infiltrate. It's hard for me to articulate because I'm still in that place where my fingers are just brushing the edges of something unfamiliar. The best I can say at the moment is that perhaps it wasn't God who left me out in the cold. Perhaps it's not His fault, not because, as I've been angry about, He failed to do what I thought He said He would. Perhaps what I was taught about Him was wrong. Perhaps I was trained up in perspectives that weren't quite on target.
No, my Fundy friends, don't freak out on me. I'm not going anywhere weird. I'm just saying that perhaps my understanding of God as the Lover or the Father was influenced incorrectly by the people who taught me these things. It isn't that He isn't the Lover or the Father or the Fulfiller, but perhaps what I was taught to expect from Him in those roles led me away from who and what He really is in them.
I realize that may not make much sense and that this posting is rather scattered, but my thoughts on the subject are still very fragmented and hesitant. It's hard to retrain the mind and explore new ideas when you've grown so accustomed to the old ones that you could walk through them blindfolded. However, as I start figuring my way around in here and find out if this new way of thinking might actually be truth, I'll keep you posted. (Haha. Posted. Get it? LOL. Oh, never mind.)
I've been doing a lot of thinking/wrestling over the issue I raised in my last post relating to that sense of God withholding Himself. I've hashed the matter through, and though I haven't really settled on an answer that fully satisfies me yet, I feel like I may be getting situated in a direction that could prove enlightening with a bit of forward momentum.
There is a thought that is slowly wending its way through my brain like a flashlight searching through a dark, abandoned building. I've been feeling angry at God for all of this, recognizing that it's not really His fault, but still feeling like He withheld what I needed to the point that it put me in a position where I was more vulnerable to weakness than I should have been. Granted, my choices are my own, but perhaps if He had done things differently, I wouldn't have made those choices. So I've been kinda pissed. Pissed that I was (and still am) weak and vulnerable. Pissed that He could have done something about it and didn't. Pissed that I trusted Him and walked away empty-handed. Somewhere in there I know it's not His fault, that He was the wise one and the love I needed was always there, but I haven't sorted it through yet. So this new idea is beginning to infiltrate. It's hard for me to articulate because I'm still in that place where my fingers are just brushing the edges of something unfamiliar. The best I can say at the moment is that perhaps it wasn't God who left me out in the cold. Perhaps it's not His fault, not because, as I've been angry about, He failed to do what I thought He said He would. Perhaps what I was taught about Him was wrong. Perhaps I was trained up in perspectives that weren't quite on target.
No, my Fundy friends, don't freak out on me. I'm not going anywhere weird. I'm just saying that perhaps my understanding of God as the Lover or the Father was influenced incorrectly by the people who taught me these things. It isn't that He isn't the Lover or the Father or the Fulfiller, but perhaps what I was taught to expect from Him in those roles led me away from who and what He really is in them.
I realize that may not make much sense and that this posting is rather scattered, but my thoughts on the subject are still very fragmented and hesitant. It's hard to retrain the mind and explore new ideas when you've grown so accustomed to the old ones that you could walk through them blindfolded. However, as I start figuring my way around in here and find out if this new way of thinking might actually be truth, I'll keep you posted. (Haha. Posted. Get it? LOL. Oh, never mind.)
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