to flow or block

I woke up at 4:30 am this morning.  Not my idea of morning, but after laying in bed for nearly an hour more and realizing my brain was on and my husband's loud breathing was annoying me the more I lay there...I decided to get up.  My creative brain had turned on and thoughts were flowing.  I could choose to get up and tap in, or continue to try and turn if off which is where anxiety often has a doorway in--especially when sleep doesn't return., I have let anxiety win for too long.  But while it would seem logical to tap into the creativity, it scares me.  Where will it take me/us?  (I'm not in control.)  And so I try to contain it, stop it, push it back, resist it, press it back where it came from, give it parameters (not now...maybe later).  So to wake up and not be able to go back to sleep gives me a choice...to be annoyed, anxious (that I'm awake not sleeping) or just say yes to the creative flow that is roaring inside (it feels like a river.  Time to get out my inner tube and ride it.)
Where will this creative flow take me (us)?  Maybe no where.  Maybe somewhere.  Maybe just to the computer at 5 am.
But instead of blocking it I decided to get up.  To wake up.  To show up.  To ride it.  To embrace it.
Recently I was at a women's retreat and the lady taught us a song.  Very simple, not my favorite tune, and I felt silly singing it with hand motions and all...but the song got stuck in my head.  "I step into the flow let everything go, I open my heart, my mind and my soul..."  This silly (annoying) song greeted me at 5 am as I tossed and turned trying to go back to sleep.  (If it weren't for my husband's stopped up nose and loud breathing I might be asleep right now...)
Step into the flow, let everything go...
Yesterday I was at the grocery store and ran into a woman from church.  We don't know each other very well, but we know each other well enough to have an awkward conversation in the bacon aisle.  We both said hi and then she filled the space with words.  The more she talked, the more I felt the awkwardness of wishing I knew what to say.  Wishing I could connect in a more meaningful way. But in the end my hands hung by my sides and I made some stupid comment about bacon.  We parted, probably both relieved that our conversation had ended.  This conversation came back to me at somewhere around 4:45 am.  Why?  I think I was reminded that I didn't step into the flow.  I didn't reach out and give her a hug.  I didn't open myself up to the Spirit of God that wants to connect us to each other.  The spirit of grace, the spirit of love, the spirit of connection.  Instead I engaged from my head.  I awkwardly fumbled for words I didn't have to fill a conversation neither of us knew how to have, and yet we didn't know how to reach out and say "real connection would be nice..."
Yep, these are the kinds of things I think about when I can't sleep.  Those missed moments of opportunity to show up.  Those times when I wish I had had more courage to step out of the societal norms that say "act like this, say this, do this...because that is culturally acceptable"  All those things you want to do?  Ignore them.  They are weird.  Don't be weird.  Be normal.
What is normal? I ask.  I have lived in Southeast Asia for 1/4 of my life.  And to be fair...half of my adult life.  I'm not sure I know what is normal.  And is normal even normal?  What if I am hiding my gifts by trying to be normal?  What if I am holding back the flow of creative energy within me?
What if we all are?  I am not suggesting that I have an amazing creative flow that others don't.  I actually think we all have a creative energy within us.  This creative energy is not the same for you or me.  But because I believe we were all created by a Creator, I have this idea that creativity is within us.  Creativity is what brings new things into existence in our world.  Creativity is what makes things new again.  Creativity is what brings us spring after a long winter.  Creativity is the color, the music, the flow that keeps us moving forward in hope.  Keeps us believing that life is worth living.  That there must be more than talk about bacon.  There must be more than just getting out of bed every day to go to a job you don't like.  Or for my kids, there is more than just getting up to go to school everyday because adults want kids to have a boring life.  (That is what my kids have said to me about school...)
What if we stepped into the flow, and let everything go?  What if we stopped living the "I should be..." story lines and asked "What do I want? What do I long for?"  I tell myself I should be asleep right now...not up writing and I feel anxiety.  Fear.
I say "no, I want to let this creative flow out for once...see where it takes me..." and I am free.
To step into the flow is scary.  Where will it take me (us)?  I am not in control.  It requires putting my feet into the river.
But it might feel something like adventure too...

I will be with you

I have been thinking about today's date for more than a week now, remembering what happened two years ago in my life.  No, not a fun St. Patrick's day party!!  More sobering--I hit bottom after a slow landslide of tumbling finally found me at a place where I had no more hand holds, no more escaping the fact that fighting what was happening was useless.  I finally surrendered and faced the fact that I could not save myself from the inevitable...of letting go of what I had been trying to control.

As I watched my son's eczema go from bad to worse to awful--covering his whole body from head to toe--I could no longer pretend that all my efforts to find a solution were working.  And I had no more emotional or mental energy to continue to seek answers.  I was at the bottom of my resources, the bottom of myself.  As one counselor sat across from me a few weeks before, he blatantly said "You need to give up control."  As he said this I knew he was speaking truth, but his truth did not offer me relief.  It felt like a sharp knife going through my chest.  I had been living in a way of trying to fix my son's health, fix my own health, and try to avoid any new problems entering our lives.  We had made a big transition from life overseas to life in the states.  Moves like this are high on the stress scale, let alone any other stressors (namely my son's incurable health condition).  It was already a recipe for crazy making...but I had thought I could do it.  And try hard is what I did...and it drove me and to an unhealthy place of fear, panic, and finally a nervous breakdown.  

As I sat on the floor in my bedroom desperate for relief, I reached out to friends who loved me.  "Pray for me!!!" I texted whomever I thought would care.  I was searching for someone to fix me, to help me, to pray for me.  I was crying out for relief.  God save me!  Please, heal me.  Heal Noah!!!  Desperation.

It was in those moments that friends texted with love, assurance they were praying for me, and one friend shared verses of Scripture with me.  One verse struck me...not because it said "if you pray harder like this you will be freed..."  But because somehow it offered hope and comfort for my suffering...

Isaiah 43:2 "When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up—the flames will not consume you."

As I read these words I was reminded that He was with me, and that I could trust him to hold onto me.  He would not let the waters and trouble be the end of me.  There was nothing there about saving me from the floods all together--which I longed for.  It didn't speak of miraculous saving.  It spoke of a "being with" me.  But I wanted to be free of the suffering, to be free of the pain.  How could a "being with" be enough?!!!

But I clung to this verse as relief did not come quickly.  I went to the doctor, took meds, sought out a counselor who could help me (it took five tries!) and cried a lot.  I remember going to my son's 3rd grade mother's day tea and each child got up front to read about 10 things about their moms.  My son read "My mom loves to meditate."  I smiled, but inside I cringed.  I meditated because I longed for peace.  Each day I spent time lying on the floor in my room seeking peace.  Seeking freedom from the anxiety.  I didn't love meditation anymore than I loved anxiety.  But I was desperate.  My heart hurt as I knew I was incapable of being an active involved mom at this time.  I was barely functional. And how deep did my son have to reach to think of 10 things he loved about his mom?!!

The days and weeks and months built on top of each other and at one year I was at a much different place.  As March 17 came and went I could see the long hard road I had walked, and knew God's presence had been with me.  He had been with me through friends, through prayers, through counseling appointments, through my husband, through my children, and even in the silence.  I could see that God had been with me.  I had not drowned. I had not been burned up.  In fact, I was at a place where I could make decisions about how to live.  

And somehow a second year has gone by...and I am now standing at the two year mark.  Will St. Patrick's day always trigger an awareness of what happened two years ago?  I am not really sure...but this year I have approached this date with a sense of gratitude.  God was with me at the bottom, He never left me alone to find my way out of the suffering.  He has restored life to me.  He has brought healing into my life.  Through this dark journey I have discovered a deeper well of His love, His grace, and His "with-ness", light that is not overcome by darkness.  I have come to the bottom and discovered that He was with me through the "dark valley of the shadow of death..."  I still struggle with fears and with anxiety.  I still have bad days.  But I also am experiencing greater depths of joy and zeal for life.  I have a lightness in my heart that I didn't have before.  I find myself able to move towards "letting go" in those times of wanting to take up more control.  I feel a greater sense of openness to what life may bring.   God has helped me see that it is not about avoiding suffering, but about leaning into suffering...and thus surrender to One who loves me, and will never let go of me.  One who is with me in the suffering.

Fear not, for I am with you.

Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you.

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

the struggle to trust

how do I know when it's time to make a big decision that will take us in new directions?  There is an invitation to step out into the unknown, and it's scary.  Part of me wants to say yes to adventure, the unknown, to practice faith.  But the other part of me wants to stay where it is comfortable, known, stable, sure.  How can I be sure we aren't crazy to leave what is comfortable and make a big decision to change things up?  I am asking myself these questions as I find myself on the edge right now.  For nearly three years we have created a comfortable home and life in Florida.  It was not an easy transition from life overseas, but slowly we found ourselves appreciating what life has to offer us here.  We enjoy the beach, our friends, our church, our home.  Why change things up?  Why not stick around and keep enjoying these things?
What is this tug at my heart?...
As I have been on a personal journey towards wellbeing I have found myself drawn to minister to others.  To encourage others on their own journeys.  To walk alongside others who are suffering.  To share what I have experienced with others.  Can't I do that here in Florida?  Sure...but for whatever reason I am not content here.  I feel a deep wrestling in my soul that says "step out..."  And it resonates in that deep place of longing.
But where there is excitement there is also fear.  As I lay in bed last night unable to sleep I found myself telling God "I don't want to go anywhere..."  Is that a bit like Moses?  God was asking Moses to go back to help free the Israelites from their bondage.  But Moses argued with God.  "I can't speak!!"  And God responded "so I'll give you a friend to speak for you.  You will tell him what to say."  God didn't let Moses off the hook easily, because this was what Moses had been created for.  From the very beginning of his life, God had a plan for Moses.
Right now I find myself in that wrestling match with God.  I feel the excitement of the invitation, but I feel the fear of saying yes to what all it will mean.  It will not ask only part of me, it will ask for all of me.
But when God invites us to step out and move towards him, it is a good thing.  He is for us, he is for life.  We are saying yes to love, to life, to surrender, to letting go...
I want to say yes.  And yet, I am still wrestling.  But ultimately, I want to trust that God is here even in the wrestling.  He is meeting me here, and continuing to prepare me for the ultimate surrender to what he has for me/for us.  And I believe that I will say yes.  But that doesn't imply there is no struggle.  Just as childbirth is struggle which brings forth life and beauty, I think many beautiful things come from the struggle.  Is it ever easy to step into trust?  Is it ever easy to let go and surrender?  But we do it because we feel something deep within us saying "yes, I want more than the predictable controlled stable life I am living.  I want to live a life of surrender and trust.  I want to experience the deep joy and love and life that God gives..."
Lord, have mercy on me, help me in my struggle to trust.  Be patient with me until I can say yes with my whole being.  May it be so.