Living in the Tension

Yesterday a few guys came to the house to help me truly move in.  The other family moved out in the middle of July, but I wanted to paint some, and needed some muscles to move around our furniture and to bring in some large pieces that I had in the garage.  Until yesterday, we were all still living downstairs for the most part. 
 I scribbled their names onto a box in my calendar for August 6th. They came to serve me with kindness and skill and in a few short hours, the house was looking like home. 

After they left, I sat at my antique farm table and stared out through the big front window.  The amazing reality of giving my children their own space again and moving into my own bedroom for the first time in 20 months was settling in.  I breathed deeply with the realization that we are truly on our own, and sat in the serenity for about 3.6 seconds before anxiety tried to barrel in with guns blazing. 

Nothing about my life makes sense on paper right now. Financially, my life is a mystery. I do the best each month with what I have, I do the work I'm given to do, and somehow, by some incredible miracle, each month everything is taken care of that we truly need. I have yet to get to the end of my resources and I haven't yet had to ask for help. We've been without my ex-husband now for 22 months. Some months have brought surprise money in the mail from friends who felt like sending me a bit extra. Other times, I've received food, or gift cards, hand me down clothing, or toys. Several times, I have even opened the mail box to find a care package filled with treats and surprises for me to encourage my weary heart.  Somehow, God takes the little I have and stretches it in such a way that there haven't been any cracks. But our minds can be a scary place to linger, and in that moment after the guys had left, and my kids had scattered to their own spaces, I began to rehearse how utterly ridiculous I must be to think that I could do this alone.  The joy of being in my own space was robbed by the anxiety that lurked, ready to pounce into massive disastrous thinking.  In the span of a few seconds, the track record God has in my life of providing for us was smashed under the weight of the fear I let descend upon my heart.  

I talked with a dear friend later in the day. She has been a single mother for several years now after a 25 year marriage dissolved when he chose to walk out.  She has been an example to me of learning to do with less than she ever dreamed and yet seeing her needs be met as she goes.  I told her that the fear of knowing tomorrow could hold complete financial disaster was a heavy burden to bear.  But as I spoke the words aloud, I finished the thought by saying, the reality is all of us are one moment away from disaster or destruction. None of us are immune to difficulty or struggle, it is just that living the lives that we have, we are more acutely aware of it on a daily basis.  We live in the tension of the now.  We don't have the luxury of planning for much, or banking the excess for future calamity.  We have the responsibility of weighing this day's choices and needs against the near future that we know will bring more want.  Just today I was faced with the decision of whether or not to buy the epipen I now need to carry as this year has revealed a bee allergy.  It was hundreds of dollars, and I've put off picking it up because the amount made me anxious. Today I had the money. So today I chose to get it.  I know that in one month I might wish for the money I spent today, but knowing the power in that life saving medication, and having the money for this day, I made the best choice I could make for today. I'm slowly learning the lesson of doing the best I can with what I have and trusting that I will get enough grace, enough mercy, enough provision for the next day, and the next, and the next.  

My Dad sent me this quote today, and it's an eloquent statement about living in the now, in that tension of living as we go:

"The heart of spirituality isn't safety and security. Instead, it is what Dorothy Day called 'precarity.' In the mind of most, precarity (or precariousness) is a bleak state of uncertainty and danger. The word connotes instability, poverty, marginalization, and the absence of a safety net....It also suggests radical dependence: the Latin 'precarious' is the state of being dependent on another's will, being upheld or sustained by another's force. So a spirituality centered on precarity acknowledges the radical uncertainty or contingency of human existence and our utter dependence on God." — Kerry Walters in Jacob's Hip: Finding God in an Anxious Age

The beauty of living in precarity is that I am faced with a simple choice. Either I trust that God is who He says He is, and He will provide for me and my family, or I fight it and try to conjure up miracles for myself. I don't have a good track record of creating something out of nothing. I haven't yet figured out how to open doors for work and influence when there seems to be no knob on the door. I do have almost 2 years and a notebook filled with line after line where I've documented the incredible ways my family has been seen, cared for, loved, and provided for. I still don't know how this will work. My rent is up now in this house, and I'm truly on my own. But each day brings what I need for that day. Each job I'm offered, each bit of mana I'm showered with has been enough. My Mother's heart longs to race ourselves out of this place of precarity, and yet the beautiful, miraculous story that is being written is one I would never have experienced otherwise. I'm learning to sit in that tension of precarity, and choosing daily to fling my hope and faith on the one who has seen me.

Out of darkness into light

Today was the first day of class for me in a new group at my church.

I mentioned before that I was going through a group on Thursday nights called Stuck- which has been incredible for me, and now I have the amazing privilege of being one of the leaders in a group that meets on Tuesday mornings.  It's a study (for lack of a better word) that deals with 'life's hurts, habits and hangups'.  I was a bit anxious before we met as I wasn't sure how many women would be in the group. There is a large group of women who come on Tuesday mornings from the community and today we kicked off several new studies- I really thought that our group wouldn't have many commit because the emotional work it will take will be intense.
I was blown away to see 15 women join us, and butterflies settled into my stomach.

The main leader of the group was out of town at a conference today and it was also the first day so it was a bit awkward.  After we spent time breaking the ice and going over the rules to protect one another's privacy, we broached the delicate subject of why each of us had come. One by one each woman bravely opened her mouth and shared a tiny piece of her heart. It was a sacred space to be in.  Our lives, our history, our struggle and our pain make up the very essence of who we are, and for those women to share part of themselves with the rest of us was a gift.

I have already learned this lesson over the last years, but today was another powerful example that every one of us walking this earth have hurts. If you get the honor of peeking behind the closed doors of someones life, you will always see places where they have been wounded, or felt rejected, or are struggling.  Wrestling with other people will always leave you banged up and so all of us have places where we're limping a bit, or possibly even ripped wide open.

It was beautiful to see each woman identify a place or multiple places in her life that needs attention- and so courageous to hear them say it was time to move on from that place of pain. To lay it to rest. To identify it, look at it, walk through the darkness surrounding it, and ultimately leave it behind.

I was talking with a friend yesterday who has walked a very dark road. Through no fault of her own, she was banged up and wounded deeply in her childhood and teen years. Those who should have protected her instead abused her in every way, and she was left with confusion, distrust, and pain I can't begin to imagine. She chose to do the work of stepping into that darkness and face it and she put it to rest. It wasn't easy or fast, and I had the incredible honor of watching her grow, heal, and change over the last 4 years.  But she did it.  The shame and pain that held her in bondage for so long has dissipated into the wind and she is now left with compassion, grace for herself, and a deep desire to tend to the hearts of others.  We were discussing one of her family members and the harmful choices that woman is making.  It is a clear situation where this woman is choosing to stay stuck and in pain to avoid the pain of walking through the dark places in order to heal and move on.  We all have to make the choice to walk into our dark tunnels on our own time, but I have learned that there are many treasures to be found in the dark; and true healing can't come without walking that dark and ragged path.  There is no way around that pain, only the way through, yet we are never alone... God is near to the broken hearted, and I can tell you from personal experience that the grace and beauty that was found there far exceeded the pain of surgery my heart had to go through.

I am excited to be able to be part of a group of women who long for healing. Women who are lacing up their boots in anticipation of walking down a bumpy dark path.  Women who are steeling themselves for a painful journey out of bondage and silence.  I can't wait to walk this road with them, and love that I get the chance to stand so closely to those who are ready to trust the process. Being with women who long for wholeness is one of most amazing experiences I can think of.