T.L.C.

The night before last, there was a "cat explosion" in our house.

They happen frequently. The three cats are sitting within sight of one another, and nobody knows who starts it, but it seems that all three of them jump as if zapped by electricity and they all race off in different directions. It's comical to watch! 

But this last time, someone zigged when they should have zagged. And one of the cats got hurt.  Of course, cats are not all that good at showing that they are in pain, but the kitty in question did have her hair all poofed out longer than usual for this type of event. Later, we saw her limping - and we thought she'd hurt a joint in her ankle in the back. We helped her, made a little bed for her in a large dog-crate with some litter in there and a couple of food dishes, so that she wouldn't be tempted to try to jump up on things or do too much, and today, she went to see the vet to get checked over. 

It turns out that it was a hip problem - a stretched ligament or tendon most likely - and the vet gave her an anti-inflammatory shot and gave us some medication to give in her food. 

This is our little Eris - named after the
goddess of Chaos in Greek mythology.
The photo was taken in April 2016.

We were concerned that her "brothers" - who are both bigger than she is - would take advantage of her weakness and try to bully her.

Quite the opposite. There has been quizzical trilling, sniffing, and reaching out paws to her, and one or the other of them is not far from her crate, keeping her company whenever they can. The oldest perched on her crate this morning, and was there most of the day (except for when she was at the vet's) guarding her and letting her know he was there by occasionally hanging his paws in front of the door, letting her sniff them. 

Both of the boys have been very gentle with her, and have not tried to engage her in playing (which to them means roughhousing!) They have stayed close, and have changed their favourite perches so they can see what she is doing in the crate.  What a tremendous model of tender loving care! The whole family has been so concerned for her, looking after her, making sure she is fed, comfortable, and settled down. The vet says that she will need to take it easy like this for another week and a half, and wants to check her over again on Monday just to see if there has been any improvement. 

Such care and love expressed toward a little seven and a half pound ball of cuteness... who has melted our hearts over and over again... and seeing her brothers take such good care of her is so heartening. It's so not what we expected, such a surprising display of concern and caring, that we are in awe.

It's so encouraging. I'm so grateful to have them all in my life. :-D



 

Breathe. In and out. Repeat.

Some days just pass by without me taking much notice; they seem normal and uneventful, as if nothing tumultuous has ever happened to me or to those I love. 

And other times, I have fleeting moments where I need to remind myself to breathe, to let go, to concentrate on doing the next right thing. 

"Waterfall In Forest" - courtesy of
phonsawat at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Still others are entire days when I need to remind myself continually of those things: specific days such as a birthday or an anniversary, a statutory holiday like Christmas or Easter or Thanksgiving. At those times, I wonder how I'll get through the day, remind myself to breathe, in and out, and repeat as needed. And it's hard, even with relying heavily on my relationship with God and reminding myself that "He's got me."  

And ... miraculously ... I get through it. 

I had a day like that recently - our baby girl's birthday was last Wednesday. She would have been 22 years old. Try as I might to treat it like "just any other day" ... it was difficult to concentrate and I kept making silly, stupid mistakes that just weren't "me." 

The love of friends and family helped me as I breathed in, and breathed out. Giving myself permission to grieve without guilt or shame was key to surviving the experience. And love, love expressed in tangible ways, was the healing balm that I needed. God usually finds a way to remind me that He cares by showing me that people care. This particular time it was through a thoughtful gift from a friend miles away from here. 

Photo "Daisy Flower" by
markuso at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Someone reminded me a few weeks ago that the pain of an initial physical injury (such as when I tore the cartilage in my shoulder on August 7, 2006) can be remembered, but not brought back and relived or re-experienced with the same intensity. (Not that I'd want to!!) 

However, the pain of an emotional injury is just as fresh and excruciating as its memory. If the emotionally painful experience is remembered, the emotional pain comes with it. 

What I didn't know until several months ago is that the brain releases the exact same chemicals when experiencing emotional pain as when having physical pain. It's therefore crucial to be gentle with ourselves when life throws a monkey-wrench into our daily experience. 

"It will pass. It will," a still small Voice says inside of me. "Breathe."

"Again." 

And I do. And it passes. 

And the next day life could return completely back to normal. And it often does. 

But I'm so glad that when those times come, when the billows roll over me and knock me around, I know I can count on Love to be whatever I need it to be for me at the time I need it. Even if it's hard. 

Love is Life's breath.

So I breathe. In and out. And ... repeat as needed.

Relax into it

Every so often my daughter - who is prone to anxiety - gets so tense that she can't relax herself, so she gets headaches and backaches that can't be touched by anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxers or electric massagers. That's when she asks me if I will give her a massage.

It's something I used to do a lot when she was having regular migraines. 

So I get her to sit down in a chair in front of the dining room table, with her arms resting in front of her on the table and her head resting upon her arms. She knows "the drill" - the unspoken request for her to fight her natural instinct to tense up when I start to massage a tender spot. Tensing up only makes it hurt worse in the long run. So she has learned to "relax into it." 

Photo "Oil Massage" courtesy
of samuiblue at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

And the massages take far less time as a result. I can literally feel the knots loosening under my hands and fingers as I work. She accepts a certain amount of discomfort, knowing that when I am done, the pain will be far less than when I started. 

It's a lesson we teach each other. I've been taking her example as I get into a different season in my life, one of waiting. I find waiting so incredibly hard. 

Yet I spend the vast majority of my time doing it. 

Just now I'm in transition, extricating myself from one university program to migrate to one in a different university that (even though it will take longer) will give me a more usable degree when I am done. The process of change is stressful, but already I am seeing myself with more time on my hands, and having that much free time is a bit of an adjustment for me after spending almost every spare waking minute studying. It's too early to apply for the new program, so in some ways I'm twiddling my thumbs. This (believe it or not) is tension-producing. I'm learning ... slowly ... to 'relax into it' and let events unfold as they unfold. For someone who historically has had to know what was going to happen for the next five or ten years in advance, this is a relatively new skill. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax. Good words. 

Good words to remember as this week (Wednesday) we try to find a way to celebrate (and survive) Arielle's birthday. To know that that particular day marks 38 weeks since we got the news of her death. And to take the next breath in. And let it out. To relax while we do it. And then do it again. 

"Relaxing into it" is a lifestyle lived out day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. It's a lifestyle of acceptance - acceptance of people, places, and circumstances. It is a refusal to tense up and stress over things I can't control. It is letting go of what was before and embracing what is now ... even if the now is painful. Or uncertain. Or blah. It's all good. God has His finger on that pressure point and all I need to do is turn my attention to His care for me and the knots of tension disappear from my soul. I can breathe again, move again, laugh again. I can learn to live in that relaxed state. 

And why not?

Taking care while caretaking

I'm a recovering codependent. 

It is an effort for me to let people make their own mistakes without trying to rush in and fix things, or to fix the people. When I put on my "Fix-it" cap, people either become more dependent on me (which breeds resentment on both sides) or they immediately beome defensive and angry. 

Usually. 

However, there are times when the "caretaking" skills come in handy - like when someone I love is literally unable to care for himself or herself. 

Like this weekend. My eldest fell on a patch of black ice while trying to get into the family vehicle. In that fall, she twisted her left knee so much so that the patella (kneecap) shifted around to the outside - and she had to shift it back until it "clicked" into place (shuddddder.) 

We finally (that is, after over 24 hours of arguing) convinced her that she needed to have it seen. Her dad took her to an emergency room in a hospital which is an hour's drive away - one that is known for shorter wait times. She was seen very quickly, X-rayed to exclude the possibility of a bone chip or cracked patella, had a huge knee-brace put on her leg to keep it straight - and referred to an extremely good orthopedic surgeon here in our community. The wait time to see him is usually 2 to 3 months. He called this morning and wants to meet her at our local hospital a week from tomorrow. (This gives the swelling time to go down so an MRI can get a better picture, quite likely). 

Oh ... did I forget to mention that she RE-injured the knee trying to get back into the house (5 stairs up to the top of the deck plus a lu-lu of a doorstep to get into the house) with the knee brace on? Once again, she had to click the patella back in place. In the rain. Sitting on a wet deck. The whole thing was a nightmare for all concerned - especially her.

A hand-held shower: simple solution to mobility problems

Anyway... today I called my boss and told her that I'd be taking some time off today to look after my daughter and arrange ways for her to look after herself in the day-to-day. 

If I need to, I'll take leave without pay to look after her, but I hope it doesn't come to that. 

Her dad is running unexpected errands today - getting items we never thought we'd need: a hand-held shower head, other assorted household items, a wheelchair rental, materials to build a ramp from the top of the deck to the driveway - and I'm looking at ways to get her access to the things she normally uses in the run of a day, so that she can function from day to day without help.

And herein is the greatest difference between the way I would have handled this four years ago and the way I'm approaching it now. I'm actually actively seeking ways for her to be independent. Before, I would have lapped this up and wanted more. Yes, in a way I am enjoying the opportunity to look after her hand and foot. However, I know that this is a danger zone for me - so I need to ask myself, even now, if this (whatever it is) is something I NEED to do or if I should let her try to figure it out on her own. 

Sometimes it's appropriate for me to offer my help; after that, though, it's more appropriate to make a way for her to do things for herself. 

It's a learning process. And I'm learning.

Catching my breath

From the look of my blogger interface, it looks like folks are stopping by more often, which is good, because I've not been doing much writing - at least for me. 

Life can get busy. The urgent can crowd out the important. 

Appointments (dental, bank, and physio - mostly physio) have been occupying my thoughts and my schedule for the last two weeks. I've been trying to make a little extra money, so overtime has been in the picture; fortunately it has been offered to our group of late. I've been going "flat out," trying to pair my extra time at work with times that my husband has other commitments so that I don't sit at home and wait for him to come home. I've been pinging around trying to find new ways to bring in some more bacon - by trying my hand at some Internet sources of income. So far, I've made a total of a buck forty-eight, which falls just short of slave labor. Frustration and panic have been building. 

In the midst of all that, my body was sending me messages: slow down! I didn't listen. So it rebelled. I developed a recurring muscle tear in my lower abdomen, probably associated with my back problems ... and the extra weight of course. I guess that the tear in my belly would qualify as a hernia, I don't know; I know it's hard for me to take a full breath when I'm in certain positions. (And yes, I've thought about having it checked out - and no, I'm too chicken to have a doctor poke around down there!) Add to that a 24-hour 'thing' this past Monday where all my joints hurt and I spiked a fever, and it just added to my stress because I felt that I should be up and about. After all, I'm the primary bread-winner since hubby's retirement and the realities of that are weighing down on me more and more. 

So when i woke up this morning a lot earlier than what I would have liked, I had a choice: rail against my ebbing hormones or go with the situation and use it to take some time for me - to catch my breath, to use the skills I preach and actually practice them. Accept. Pray. Take care of myself. Set boundaries. Rest. 

Breathe.

Now there was a guy who knew how to relax!
My dear old Cody - God rest his soul.

Even if my mind is going in fifty different directions, forcing it to focus on one thing - this thing - allows me to stop long enough to catch my breath and see where I've been spinning my wheels and where I just don't need to waste my time. It helps me to think about what I really want at this stage in my life and how I can be kind to myself while trusting God to do what I can't do for myself. 

It's harder than it looks. ;) But I have a few examples I can look up to, and I am learning. I don't have to be do, do, doing all the time; being precedes doing. 

One of the side effects of spinning those wheels has been the way I have been interacting with some of my friends; I've been kind of a jerk at times. I hope that they know it's that drowning sensation talking - the feeling of being trapped, flailing around in fear with no way out. 

There is a way out, of course. I just haven't found it yet (I've been too busy flailing around!)  It's like what they told folks on a commercial many years ago in case they fell into the water ... don't splash around. Swim one, long stroke. Relax into it; you'll rise to the surface.  

I can trust God. I can accept what is. I can trust myself: my real self, not that frantic reactive person that pings from crisis to crisis. I'll figure it out, as long as I make it a point to look after myself. In so doing, I will have enough of the best of me to share with those who count: my family, my friends.

And maybe, just maybe, I'll have the courage to change what I can, and also to know my own limitations and stay within them. 

Breathe, Judy.

Those who matter

Be who you are and say what you feel, because "Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter."

This quote is incorrectly attributed to Dr. Seuss. The portion in quotation marks was spoken by Bernard Mannes Baruch (presidential advisor to Wilson and Roosevelt) regarding whether he wanted any special seating arrangements at a banquet.

In my previous post, I opened myself up to scrutiny by those of you who still read my blog... and I will admit that when I clicked "publish" ... it was with fear and trembling, even dread of being judged - much more so when I submitted it to the one who issued the challenge about which I spoke, since I have 15 followers and she has over 300. (Gulp.) 

I will also admit that I care - even after three and a half years of recovery from such things - far too much about what people think of me. Being human, I like to be liked.  I am (just like the rest of the world) hard-wired for connection. As much rejection and abandonment as I have known in my life, it still hurts to be excluded, ignored, or passed over - for whatever reason.  

But it's slowly dawning on me, this radical truth of "those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter."  Married with the idea that "friends are God's way of apologizing to you for your family," I'm beginning to see that it's the heart connections that matter - whether those are blood ties or not.  That the support and encouragement of true friends ... trumps the pettiness and poison of those other toxic relationships, whether they are with family or not.  Every time.  I have a few such golden friends.  I value them ... I treasure them more than I can begin to express. And I can express a LOT.  ;)

As I was saying, when I submitted that blog post to my fellow-blogger for inclusion on her site ... it was with much fear and trembling.  I felt exposed, raw, vulnerable to attack. I think I even said to myself, "NOW what have I done?"  

Yet I was curious (morbidly or not) to know what my fellow-blogger thought.  I kept watching my inbox.

Nothing came.

HERE is a great article on hugging!

A few hours later, I once again checked my inbox.  Nothing was in there, but there was something sitting in my Spam folder.  "I wonder..." I said, for sometimes my email server mistakes real communication for spam.  

Sure enough, there it was, an email from Ellie.  And in the first two sentences, I was brimming with tears, which gradually turned to sobbing in gratitude and love by the end.  I won't tell you exactly what she told me -  but suffice to say that it started with a desire to hug me - and contained some of the most encouraging and uplifting affirmations I have heard in a very long time.  

I've already lost count of the number of times I've gone back to that email to read those incredible, supportive words, to feel that warm blanket of acceptance and kindness and trustworthiness enfolding me.  Ellie reached out to me across the miles, even though we've never met in person, to remind me of what is important -- and of what isn't. 

Her words made (and make) me feel ... heard.  Understood.  Even important, and not in an arrogant kind of way, but in the way every human being needs to feel valued.  Worthy.  Safe.  They gave me the courage to lean into, to make peace with, even to embrace, the truth of my birth family's rejection of me.  They gave me access to the Strength to do what I need to do - whatever that is - to accept "what is" ... and to move on.  They gave me enough wisdom to discern who are "those who matter" and who are "those who mind" - and enough security and whole-heartedness to embrace the former and to walk away from the latter.  As difficult as that is (and will be) it is also quite liberating.

I don't have to prove anything to anyone.  
I don't have to justify anything to anyone.  

I just need to look after what (and who) matters ... and leave the rest alone, because it's out of my hands.  If it was ever there in the first place, that is.

The pain drain

Ever noticed that things that you would normally not mind seem to bother you more when you're in pain?

I have.  I've been in pain - not severe, but pretty much constant - for the last few months now.  Just when I think I'm getting ahead and can do more, it hits again and I'm down for the count - and the simplest, stupidest things can set it off.  Like turning to look at something by twisting around instead of moving my feet. (OW!  ... Grr.)  

And the pain (as I was saying in my opening) wears at you.  Even when other things take your attention and you forget the pain is there, one move and it reminds you that it has you. You become more irritable, less patient.  Your tolerance for everyday annoyances becomes practically non-existent.  At least mine does.  

And that can lead to some pretty stinking thinking.  Negativity.  Snappishness.  Resentments.  Or acute (and by that I don't mean clinical) depression.  

Those things creep up behind you when you've been strong (or tried to be strong) for a long time, and they grab you by the throat, sometimes through the most innocent of circumstances.  It takes a lot of acceptance and courage to let it go and to trust God when there seems to be no end in sight.  Especially when the feeling that you're being targeted, singled out, and attacked seems so overwhelmingly real.  

It's precisely BECAUSE the pain is always there, like a slow leak in your gas tank...  that when the ups and downs of life happen (as they do to everyone) they seem to require more of you or leave you running on empty.  

And you feel guilty for taking time so often to fill up, to look after your own needs instead of everyone else's. So you don't ... and the cycle starts all over again.  

I can't stress it enough.  Self-care is so very important.  You are the only you that you have, and if you're not at 100%, guess what. You're going to need rest, recharging, refueling more often.  There's no shame in admitting that you need rest, help, quiet, a hot bath, a walk (or a saunter, or a waddle in my case) in the park, a movie, a night out, or whatever it is that rejuvenates you. 

It's not a luxury.  It's an essential.

It's essential because you're you.  Okay, if you want other reasons, it's also because you can't give away what you don't have... so if others are depending on you (for whatever reason) you won't have the resources to help them if you're not looking after yourself. 

I've put myself in last place for so long that the habit is really hard to break. You know the habit I mean.  Put the food on everyone else's plate first (after all, it's polite.) Put everyone else's schedule first and fit your stuff in (if at all) at the end when you're spent from looking after their comings and goings. Spend money on everyone else at the store but not you; after all, there's no money left to spend, right? 

Carving out time for yourself is HARD.  It feels awkward.  You feel kind of guilty, ashamed of even admitting that you have needs, let alone taking steps toward meeting them.  That's the old messages of manipulation from your childhood creeping in, things you heard at school, from relatives, in church.  Silencing those voices is difficult and at first, they will be loud.  Very loud.  Attune your internal sensors to pick up the wistful whispers from your inner child, the one that always had to wait, always got the leftovers, always was overlooked. 

It doesn't mean that you're selfish.  It means that you have your priorities in the right order.  Your relationship with God. Then your relationship with YOU. THEN your relationship with others.  

And one more thing.  (This was tough for me, and it still is.)  Embrace the word "No."

I think that tonight, I need to spend some time with a few close friends in an accepting atmosphere, and I know just where to find that.  :D

The uphill path

Slipping into depression is a scary thing.  You don't even know you're there.  You don't recognize the signs; you don't even know you've slipped down the slope... and that thorns have sprung up behind you to bar the way back. 

First there's a same-ness that creeps into the everyday.  Life becomes monotonous.  You hesitate to try new things, meet new people.  You start thinking that frustration is an acceptable thing - that everybody has to put up with a certain amount.  The demands of others (family, friends, perhaps your church or your employer) wear at you.  You forget (in looking after their needs) to take care of your own needs. You feel guilty for not being grateful for obvious blessings.  But the unhappiness won't quit.  You begin to think that your feelings don't matter ... when those same feelings are screaming at you to pay attention to them.  And down the slope you go... faster and faster until finally you're going so fast that you are not sure how to stop - how to get back.  It's terrifying.  

The feelings - when you allow yourself to feel them - the sadness, the panic, the loneliness, the anxiety, the anger, the shame ... are overwhelming.  So you shut them off - put them out of your mind.  Then your body gets in on the act.  It gets the message from your feelings and reacts with physical symptoms: upset stomach, muscle aches, joint aches, insomnia, bone-weariness, susceptibility to viruses, and lethargy - a body at rest wanting so badly to stay at rest!  Life becomes a struggle: just to get up and get dressed in the morning takes a major effort.  At some point, you wake up and are disappointed that you woke up. You dread every moment of the upcoming day.  Everyone else always seems so happy, so chipper, while you are irritable and easily hurt. People actually DO start to leave you alone.  You take it as abandonment, perhaps even persecution.  You believe you're defective. You believe that you've grown a giant "kick me" sign on your back... and that people are taking advantage of it.  You wonder if life will ever be better. You wonder if anybody even notices how unhappy you are... and the thought of life always being like this is enough to make you wonder if your family, if the world even, might be better off without you.

That is a horrible place to live.  

The first step out of that dark place is realizing you're there.  It sounds really over-simplified but it's true.  Knowing that what you're going through is not okay is the first step in dealing with it.

Depending on how severe and/or long-lasting it is, medication may be required, but it's usually the last resort.  There are other things that you can do to climb the thorny path back to a more balanced life.

Step one is to simplify your life as much as possible.  It sounds trite, but "No" is a useful word - a good word.  Saying "no" to the non-essentials leaves you with the energy to deal with the stuff that matters. Delegate tasks that others could just as easily do if you need to. 

Then, either physically or mentally make a wish list.  Figure out what you want, what's the most important thing to you?  then the next important and so forth.  Of those things, you are the best one to determine whether you can do something to help yourself, or whether you need to ask for help, or whether you need to put in on the "back burner" for now.  

Talk to someone you trust; tell that person that you don't need them to fix anything unless you ask them to fix it.  If there is someone to whom you can talk honestly about how you feel without fearing judgment or condemnation, DO it.  And when you do, you might want to consider asking for help in a few areas that you need help to change, if they can. 

Tell yourself (whether you believe it or not) that you are worth spending a little time on. And then act on it. If a member of your family was feeling the way you are, you'd move heaven and earth to help them feel better; you'd treat them to lunch or supper, maybe a hairstyle or a massage.  Why not you? If you have to schedule some time, carve it out of your busy schedule, to look after yourself, it's worth it - you will never regret it.  

Go for a 20-minute walk, "just because."  De-stress.  Do something you enjoy doing.  Listen to music, go horseback riding, call up a friend and plan some fun time at the movies, read a good book, go golfing, or listen to a CD or watch a DVD that makes you remember that life can be good.  It's okay to pamper yourself.  

And remember that it took a while for you to get into this state of affairs.  It might take a while to get back.  But you will get back.  

I wrote this post to encourage people who are suffering from this horrible and debilitating state known as depression.  What I didn't count on was that I ended up giving a pep talk to myself.  And strengthening my resolve to look after the important things.  Starting with me.

Heavy on the wisdom

"GOD grant me the 

SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change,

COURAGE to change the things I can, and 

WISDOM to know the difference."

Often when saying this prayer with others, I hear at least one person tag on the phrase, "heavy on the wisdom..." at the end.  

I know what they mean.  

Accepting things I cannot change is hard.  It is.  It isn't some 'lay-down-and-let-them-walk-all-over-you' thing.  It means facing some pretty tough stuff.  It means allowing myself to feel things I would rather not feel about my past, to address them and to respond appropriately to them. (Thanks to a friend who pointed this out!)  It means refusing to try to manipulate people with guilt, and it involves letting people I love make choices I don't agree with and letting them bear the responsibility for their own actions.  It's painful.  It requires the peace and serenity that only God can give - which is why the serenity prayer is a prayer and not a to-do list! 

Found through Google Images at:
http://jayyvm12-english10.blogspot.ca/2010/04/courage-doesnt-always-roar.html

Changing things that I can change is hard, too.  And it takes a LOT of courage.  Courage I Just Don't Have - or I wouldn't be asking for it!  

Changing the things I can change doesn't mean I change them by myself ... because I've tried to change things by myself and have ALWAYS landed flat on my face!  It means relying on the Courage God gives to face my fears, look after myself, and sometimes even do the one thing I have always avoided at all cost: confront someone and ask for what I need from him or her.  (It never gets easier, by the way).  It means not compromising my values just to please someone else.  Only God can give that kind of courage.  And sometimes I just need to admit that on certain days, I need to be willing to allow God to give me that courage... knowing that the change will be difficult but that He will be with me. Always.  

But it's knowing the difference between the two that is the kicker.  "Heavy on the wisdom?"  OH yeah.  Knowing when to walk away and when to stand, turn around and fight? That takes a whole pile of wisdom. Knowing what to accept and what's worth the effort to change? Crucial.  And impossible. Left to my own, I'd choose the wrong thing, every time.  

Wisdom doesn't come from me; it comes from God. (Hence the prayer!)  When I rely on my own inner (and fallible) human resources to help me decide between acceptance or change, I have absolutely NO wisdom to do that.   Many times I would rather pull the covers over my head and hide from the bogey-man - and sometimes, to tell you the truth - I still do.  Lately I've been feeling like that nearly 24/7.  

Life is not easy.  At least it isn't for someone who hears those accusing, cruel voices in her head saying she's not worth it, that things will never change, that she may as well give up.  I know these voices don't belong to God - but when I hear them all the time with no let-up, it's challenging to mute them without sinking into despair, and try to hear His voice above the din.  And when I'm overwhelmed - which I frequently am of late - I rid myself of some of the stressors I don't need, and I take the time I need to listen to what is important.

So yes, I've been praying the Serenity prayer a lot lately - either verbally or not - and adding a heart-felt, "Heavy on the wisdom."

Owning Your Power

One of the most difficult concepts I have had to understand and accept over the last three years has been what Melody Beattie, a well-known author in recovery circles, calls "owning your power."  

It did not make any sense to me.  I was painfully aware, having been desperate enough to ask for help, that I was powerLESS over others, even over my own addiction to being needed.  How could anyone - no, how could I - own any power that I was sure I didn't have?  

So I set the idea aside and concentrated on the tasks ahead - which were all about learning that people - all people, including myself - have boundaries.  Those boundaries must be respected.  Learning to let go of other people, to see and respect their boundaries, to stop manipulating, intimidating, and controlling, led me to the understanding that I, too, had boundaries.  That it was okay to say no - if no was what I felt. That certain things that people had done to me or were trying to do to me (such as intimidation, manipulation, and control) were wrong.

It was then that I started to understand what it meant to "own my power."  

It didn't mean that I had or could exert power over others.  It meant that I had a choice as to whether to allow others to exert power over me or not.  It meant that I could choose to take responsibility for my own actions, and to let others assume responsibility for theirs.  And that included their expectations of me!! I didn't need to allow them to make me feel guilty for something they expected me to do which I decided not to do.  Or to for something that they expected me NOT to do which I decided to go ahead and do.  

Owning my power has come to mean placing value on myself, the value that God places on me.  It involves making my own decisions and bearing my own consequences - and allowing others the same courtesy.  It also has a lot to do with not letting other people, their demands or expectations of me control my actions or reactions.  They have the right to their own feelings and opinions - but those feelings and opinions do not have to determine what I do or don't do - or how I feel or don't feel.  

For someone who spent her whole life trying to please people out of a sense of insecurity - that is a huge step.  I still have a tendency to not want people to be mad at me ... but when someone doesn't agree with my choices now, it doesn't bother me nearly as much as it would have - because my sense of self-worth doesn't come from them anymore. 

It's amazing how much energy that frees up to devote to other, more important things that I actually WANT to do.

What's so Awful about Weakness?

People come in all shapes, sizes, abilities, strengths, weaknesses, and types of intelligence.

What's the first thing you notice about a businessman who happens to be using crutches? Is his immaculate suit and tie? Is it the smile on his face or the color of his hair (or that he even HAS hair?)

Or is it the crutches?

Okay, I get it that people don't want to be sick, or weak, or in some way "less" than what is considered the norm. Parents don't want that for their children - the teasing, the limitations, and other lessened joys in life. (Lessened compared to what? especially if they've never known anything different?)

Anyway, I heard someone talking about their infant who had a problem with one of his senses - for the sake of argument let's say he needed really thick glasses for the rest of his life. First, is he less of a person because he can't see as well as those who don't need glasses? Second, how will that limit him in any appreciable way? Why then, did this person get all kinds of comments like, "Oh that's awful! God can heal him - let's all agree together in prayer; He can do the impossible!!"

Don't get me wrong; I believe that God can heal anybody if He wants to. I just don't think He necessarily wants to in EVERY case. What if God knows that this young fellow (as happened with my husband) will be in a room one day when a bunch of acid explodes in a chemical reaction? those thick glasses will keep him from going blind!! What if the visual disability keeps him from going into a career where he would most likely be killed before he could accomplish all that God had initially planned for him? Like say, the military? What if God uses this young person's inability to see well to teach someone else a lesson and turn their life around in a way that nothing else could? Some of the most amazing people I've known had significant physical limitations, mental difficulties, or intellectual challenges - which made them all the more amazing for their steadfast faith, their persistent and loyal love for their family and friends, and their passion for the lost.

In fact, the apostle Paul boasted about his weaknesses, about his physical limitations, because he knew that when people looked at him they thought, "What a wimpy little weakling of a man! Bow-legged, near-sighted, waddles when he walks! ... but there's something about him that's so compelling. This God of his must be pretty impressive to make him this passionate..." and we know that hundreds followed Jesus because of Paul's witness. Of those, dozens were healed of all kinds of sicknesses. Yet Paul himself was not. Three times he asked, and finally Jesus told him, "My grace is enough for you; My strength shines even brighter in your weakness."

So what's so awful about it?