Ooops.

Well, I think I put my foot in it today. Tuesday morning is Therapist Lisa time. Today, I went with no agenda in mind, just open to what ever God and TL had for me. Big Mistake. Huge.

Somewhere in the convo, I let it slip that one of the things I use as a major distraction is TV. Like enough hours every night that I wouldn't tell her how many. Darn it. Me and my big mouth.

Of course the first thing she does is challenge me to keep it off, yes OFF, for the next seven days. Whoa there! Seven days, cold turkey? I don't think she realizes what she's asking. No television at all? Can't we just taper down or something? I don't know if I can fall asleep in a quiet room.

What will I do with the empty hours? More importantly, what will The Mentalist and So You Think You Can Dance, and NCIS do without me??? Besides, I just discovered Burn Notice and In Plain Sight...

Crud.

Well, we'll see what transpires. I do have a to be read pile that's about two feet thick. And, I am supposed to be writing...and Therapist Lisa says that going to therapy and then going home and spending all that time watching TV is completely counter-productive. More of that distracting avoiding behavior. Blah Blah.

Good thing I didn't mention Mafia Wars.

Is This Contributing to My Misery?

Therapist Lisa says that I have an "overactive, over-developed sense of responsibility". I think that's a nice way to say I'm co-dependent. Or that I have no life of my own and I've chosen to make it this way - ouch ouch ouch.

I don't like hearing that a lot of the mess I'm in is my own doing. I'd much rather blame someone else - for instance, God. After all, isn't He the Supreme Ruler of the Universe? Do I not belong to Him? Therefore, it stands to reason that He can fix all this junk. . . am I right?

Unfortunately, when God created us as His image-bearers, He forgot to make us mindless, will-less, puppets. He gave us choice. Some old, long-dead theologian called it the terrible gift of free will. The thought is that God wants us to want Him. He doesn't want us to love Him because we have to.

But it's a double-edged sword. That rebellious, stubborn part of us that helps us survive this world, that strong spirit we pride ourselves in, is also the part that keeps us shaking our tiny little fists at the loving One who created us. And if you're me, blaming Him for all manner of consequences I've brought on myself and for not running my life the way I want it run. I also tend to blame Him for the nasty choices others have made that damage me. Basically, I want God to be my sugar daddy (do they still say that?), not my God. Not the One who knows best, sees all and will, eventually, put every yucky thing right.

Humm.

So, in line with me taking responsibility for my side of life, for the choices I can make and the things I can control, Lisa gave me this little thought to think before I make a move: will this contribute to my misery?

It fits right in with detaching from the outcome. If I make good choices - ones that won't contribute to my misery (don't you LOVE that word, misery?), and then detach from the outcome (let God be God - not me), theoretically, life will be easier, more joyful, and carefree.

Okay, that sounds too simplistic, doesn't it? But what if she's right? What if it works? What if God - Who I completely believe in - can be trusted?

Wow. . .what a concept. I have to ponder this awhile.

Love you guys - thanks for working through all this with me.

The Mentoring Project

Don Miller, the man who wrote Blue Like Jazz- Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality is a busy guy. He's teaching writing seminars (see Into the Elements), participating in making a movie from Blue Like Jazz, writing a new book: A Million Miles in a Thousand Years; working with the Administration as part of The Center for Faith-based and Community Initiatives; developing a new TV show for kids called Biggles the Bigger Bee*; AND is the driving force behind The Mentoring Project, a mentoring program Don started a few years ago in Portland, Oregon.

Don believes, and I strongly concur, that the Church has the power to combat the epidemic spread of fatherlessness and its affects on the children of America. We aren't the only ones who feel this way, God is pretty firm on His position: He's pro His followers taking care of the poor, the weak, the widows, and the orphans. He talks a lot about it in His Book. Check it out.

As a fatherless child, as the mother to fatherless children, and as a Christian, I am glad and grateful to Don and his fellow MP peeps for this work. I will be promoting and praying for you. Thank you all.

Luke 14

12 He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. 13 But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, 14 and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.”

Don's Blog





*Note: This is actually just a rumor. Neither confirmed nor denied at this time.

Shiny Objects

Okay, so I left my cell phone at work tonight. I know, horrible, isn't it? You start finding out how darned much you live for that thing when you don't have it. I mean, I know I can drive down there tomorrow and pick it up. Not a huge biggie. But the ten minute drive home was really, really quiet. I didn't feel like listening to any music. Didn't want the noise, actually. So that just left me and my brain and the road. Way too quiet.

It got me thinking about something Lisa said to me during one of our first meetings. She said she thinks one of the reasons I have such a chaotic life is to keep me distracted. Interesting thought. I mean, how is she defining chaotic? Just because I have four small children at home (well, Klaryssia's seventeen, but really she's like six), three big kids in college, two part time jobs, a small, yappy, annoying dog, a house I can't keep clean or maintained, laundry that's never done, a car that's never washed, bills that barely get paid, a really messy kitchen, phones that never stop ringing, and the TV almost always on in the background, she calls it chaotic? What's up with that?

She says that one way we deal with uncomfortable or scary situations is by distraction. Evidently I take a lot of distraction.

And if that isn't enough background noise, there's always political issues I CARE about, the book I'm NOT writing, the pictures I WANT to take, the parenting I COULD be doing better, the floors I NEED to clean, the kid's fights I BETTER stop, the upcoming wedding of my son I SHOULD be helping plan...

I'm sure there are more things I have crammed on my plate.

Oh yeah, the relationship with my Heavenly Father I'm NEGLECTING, the parents I IGNORE, the friendships I'm NOT working at, the Bible I OUGHT to read...

You see a pattern here? My brain can't handle it. All the undone things, necessary and unnecessary, all the things I want to do and things I need to do, all the things I allow into my life swirl around in my head like water in a toilet that won't flush and are constantly overflowing.

This is what my therapist calls "distraction". She says I do it to make my brain stay so busy and overwhelmed that I can't possibly have time or energy to deal with what's actually bothering me. I shift my attention to the noisy present and have real reasons to justify my inability to take care of life (or myself) perfectly. Strike that, at all.

In short, I have created my own Chaos. My own little hell on earth.

Interesting.

This observation sneaked in through one of the little cracks in the wall around my heart while my phone was sitting alone at work and my car radio was off. The thing is, I found myself afraid of the quiet and afraid of my thoughts. Wow. Afraid to think? Afraid to allow my mind to wander without purpose, without a problem to be solving? Dang, how did that happen??

I think the wall is finally cracking is because my heart's had a few major setbacks this year. My son is marrying and getting his life apart from mom underway; my older daughter safely sent off to an awesome college...and I'm home with the little kids alone.

I am proud, sad, and a little jealous all at once. Proud, of course, because they are making way better choices than I ever did or could have at their age. Sad, because they are seriously fun and interesting people who love me and listen to me and make me laugh. I am missing their company big time. And jealous, because I sincerely wish I'd had the chance to live my young adulthood the way they are now.

Sucks frankly. And the temptation to hustle up more distractions away from these and other truths is huge. I want to have a glass or four of wine; watch a really empty TV show, try to read a novel, take a three hour bath, play Mafia Wars on Facebook...

But, maybe God wants me to try to accept some of this stuff and work through it with His and Lisa's help so I can actually live this life instead of trying to hide from it within the cocoon of chaos and guilt I normally weave around me. Maybe it's time to try to be a beautiful, healthy butterfly instead of a rotting caterpillar trapped inside my aging home.

Then again, it's pretty cozy in here...

Putting on My Oxygen Mask First

Have you heard that illustration that professionals use to encourage self-care? They say that ensuring time for yourself is like what they tell you on a plane: put your oxygen mask on first, then help those around you.

In theory, that makes a lot of sense. I mean, if you are choking and gasping and about to pass out, it's probably going to be difficult to take care of anyone else effectively - or at all.

But in practice...

I've been seeing this awesome counselor. Now, for years and years I've been one of those "Oh, you're seeing a Therapist?" kind of girls. Like wow, good for you (I'm perfectly fine, but hey, great, happy for you). Seriously. Kind of annoyingly "strong" but honestly understanding how other people could need therapy. I mean, it's a really nasty world out there. Even as a Christian, those slings and arrows can just wear you down. But every now and then, the inner pain and damage I have walled away in my deepest heart starts to seep through the cracks, and the fear of facing it in order to maybe, just maybe get it fixed has had me running for the hills (or a few glasses of wine!).

Lisa says this is dis-integration. An apt word, really. You have these dis-integrated, segregated chunks of your personality that are so wounded you try to keep them hidden and "safe" because it feels like if you allow anyone access to them you will, quite literally, die.

Thankfully, God brought Lisa into my life at this time, because I honestly can't shove the pain back any longer. Whatever is lurking behind that crumbly wall around my heart is winning. I can't keep running around it trying to hold it together any more.

For the sake of my children, and maybe for myself, it's finally time to look at these fears and feelings and hope that, by God's grace, mercy, and love, I won't be consumed by them. No clue what it all involves. Not especially thrilled by the prospect - in fact it scares the hell out of me - but, hopefully I'm finally convinced that it is not only necessary, but essential to the survival of myself and those around me.

The masks have dropped, and I'm reaching for mine. I'll try to keep everyone posted on what comes next.