What a, quite frankly, lonely and horrible year.
I think God has literally (and I use the word in its correct meaning) been pushing me to things that I said I will do a long time ago, that either got pushed aside or got taken from me (because of work and busyness and making myself feel small and sacrificing myself for others all the time…). Stuff like doing creative things of my own that I love, exercising, reading, eating well, making time for church and quiet moments with God. And also things I needed to do but wasn’t sure about, like making hard decisions.
And the pushing has happened because I have literally almost died, and felt like I was almost going to die.
Sometimes it’s interesting to think while people look at you in the eye, and you realize they have no idea what you’ve gone through. Five minutes ago, 24 hours ago, the past few months, a couple of years ago. What you just looked like in the bathroom, in the car, in your room. How funny it would be to explain to them out of the blue. (And wondering if they would even be able to handle it…or if they will give you more trauma – yikes). Oh I had an accident yesterday. • I almost collapsed last weekend. • I hope I don’t look “out of it”, thought I was going to die this past month. • Sorry I’ve been quiet, my friend died and I still haven’t recovered. Puts an interesting spin to 🎵 “All my friends are dead” (sometimes I have dark humour with myself). • You know it’s funny you say that…oh and I don’t know what’s happening to my mind or my body. • But I *am* eating, thought I was eating enough but somehow little old me managed to lose weight this month. • Sorry I was late to the event, I couldn’t get up from my bed because anxiety trapped me there.
Every day, trying not to cave in while someone needs this or that. Not wanting to be treated like a bizarre specimen. Not wanting to scare people. Wanting to be there for people in spite of things. Trying not to blow up or be rude in anyone’s face at work. Trying to figure out who you are and what joy (not happiness) is supposed to feel like in the midst of everything.
But somehow I’m grateful (and what a God-given miracle for someone who has been severely pessimistic), because being quiet after every episode and crisis and breakdown has given me the opportunity to hear lessons from God.
Like, I may finally be losing my pessimism. I am increasingly being kind to myself. I understand what things in the past have contributed, to pain and behaviour I exhibit in the present. I am learning what to value. I realize people are here today, gone tomorrow (yet to publish a post about this in particular…). I realize if people have hidden pain like I do, kindness is even more important than I think — and more important than the empires we want to build for ourselves. I recognize my need to read the Word (even though I don’t always feel like doing it). I recognize the Holy Spirit is an astounding gift and taking Him for granted is both silly and almost dangerous(! … Why would you give up a counselor? The only check keeping me from doing things that would be detrimental? i.e. in the absence of advice or other people). I realize that life does not respect the pain you just went through, and things can come from any side, at any time, but it is little things like kindness and prayer and physically being present with and for people, that make life easier for everyone.
And this I learned a long time ago, but it’s been reinforced this year — I have no interest in hating anyone. Whether because of politics or character or misunderstood actions or anything. It takes too much energy. Sure, there are the very rare people that I find hard to like because they are consistently arrogant/mean/only interested in themselves, but I can’t easily bring myself to hate them. There are far better things to do when life is actually insane and we need less of their negativity in the world.
Especially for people like me, who struggle, who are weak, who are poor in spirit…
…and yet, interestingly enough, still have the audacity to want the kingdom of heaven.
But what a beautiful fact it is: we — who struggle, who are weak, who are poor in spirit — do not lose our invitation to the kingdom of heaven.
Bizarre, lol. Holding onto that, because I have nothing else to hold onto.
Black Girl In Om’s been asking an interesting question in light of the end of the year, “Why do you celebrate?”. Just been waiting to tweet: I celebrate because I didn’t die.