When I was a kid

Here I sit at my computer, feeling the need to express myself. Feeling the need to process through all that is happening in our world through words. I never imagined in my lifetime that I would be living through a statewide “lockdown.” So many emotions flood my heart and mind. Writing is how I cope. But at the same time, I don’t want my words to be discouraging or depressing. I truly am doing all I can to remain positive. I know that my children are feeling anxious (like me) but I don’t want to feed into their fears. My job is to calm their chaos, not create more. I want to be their safety. When they look to me, I want them to see me smiling and finding the positive in all of it.

Struggling to find my voice this afternoon, I turned to my decade old portfolio and dove in. I found a poem that I think is appropriate to share today.

When I was a kid…

When I was a kid,
My mom gave me a pair
Of rose-colored glasses

They were a gift
And I had to learn to use them
In the dark

You really have to
Focus to see things
In the dark

These glasses, they reflect
And they correct
My distorted vision

I put them on
To find the positive
In every situation

When I was a kid,
My mom gave me a pair
Of rose-colored glasses…

And I never lost them.

How I am is not Who I am.

hootieAnother gloomy morning. Gray. Rain. Swampy back yard – which means muddy paw prints everywhere in the house. Twice this morning the tears have flooded my eyes, threatening to spill over and not stop. Holed up in the house for one week. Anxiety hangs in the air – unspoken but revealed in actions and eyerolls. I am truly seeking to be a positive source for my family (and for my own well-being). Sometimes though, I’m just faking it. And sometimes that can be exhausting. I feeling…scared, worn out, overwhelmed, tired, anxious, on edge. But these are just feelings. They are currently how I am but they are not who I am.

I am human. I have fears, but I am not fearful. I have worries, but I am not worried. I have so much to constantly do, but I am not buried. Who I truly am is a child of the one true King. I am His. And even though I am feeling all of these things, He still loves me. Even though I cry over the situation, He is not disappointed in me. I am His. The power of His spirit lives in me and I am a child of God. These are the things that define me – not the things I am thinking or feeling. I have been redeemed by Him and in His eyes I am perfect. 

Sitting here in sweats, a Hootie and the Blowfish concert t-shirt, and my third (ish) day of a messy bun, I feel unworthy and broken. But soaking in His word and in prayer I am reminded that I am whole. How I am is not who I am. Resting in that right there! 

Yellow

Since the day is so gray and dreary today, I thought this poem that I penned a decade ago would be a nice bright distraction. I remember the assignment from my creative writing class like it was yesterday. I was instructed to go on a “color walk” and to note everything of one particular color that caught my attention. It was the perfect spring day on campus in Oxford. I walked for hours – kind of lost myself in the color walk. Here is the piece of writing that came from that day.

Yellow

I am the day and the warmth
The harshly painted curb, edging
the street – corralling it.
I swing on a wire,
directing and signaling.
I am letters on a shirt,
letters on a bag,
a convertible speeding along
a street sign – shoe string
hair band – arm band
I am the tiny beak of a hungry bird.

I am yellow.

Think on these

This morning when I woke up, there was a single moment before I was truly wide awake that I forgot. I forgot about the fear. The panic. The craziness. I forgot about the next month of being home and missing my students. I forgot that the world is not the same place that it was mere months ago. In that still, quiet moment I found peace. I found comfort in my warm bed and my furry puppy snuggled close to me. I felt safe as I listened to my husband’s soft breathing as he slept. I eagerly anticipated my first, glorious sip of coffee from my favorite, just right mug. But then, in the blink of a sleepy eye, I remembered. In that instant all of those comfortable, familiar sounds and thoughts were taken over by the realization of the current state of our world, and I climbed out of bed and said my first of many prayers of the day. 

Throughout the day today, I found it best to keep my hands and my mind busy. I sought after the normalcy of a schedule. Of the routine things that keep the household going. I tried to keep moving. Took a nice, long walk and soaked in the chilled, fresh air. However, right in the midst of my busyness, of my normal routine (which isn’t normal at all – normally I would be at school) the reality of the complete lack of anything even remotely normal washed over me. Wave after wave of reality crashed my sense of peace and sent me into another round of panic. I could trick my mind temporarily by doing things I always do, but eventually the anxiety of the unknown won out. 

I wish I had some super positive take away from all of this. I wish I could say that I have found a perfect, foolproof way to remain positive and not let panic creep in at all. But that would not be sharing the truth. What I can say about today – my first day of 4 weeks off – is this; my mind is going to be filled with thoughts all day, regardless of what I am doing. And I can’t always control the thoughts that creep into my consciousness. But I can control what I do with those thoughts. I can choose to dwell in the scary, doubt-filled moments, or I can replace those thoughts with the truths and promises of Jesus. I can fix my eyes on Him and let his word fill my mind. I am still a work in progress, and I still fail daily…but in these scary times, I am learning to rely on the spirit to guide my mind and fill me with His comfort. I am fixing my heart and mind on the one who knows my heart. I lost count of the number of prayers that I spoke today. I just know when I took the time to “cast my cares on Him” He stilled my heart and mind, and I found peace. 

 

It’s your choice

IMG_2190Some days I just don’t even know what to think about the world. Schools shut down across the country. Social distancing. (By the way – this doesn’t work with a class of 10 year olds). A run on grocery stores (and toilet paper?!?). PANIC. My mind struggles to sort it all out. My feelings about this COVID-19 crisis are like a giant pendulum. One minute, I am fine, not really worried or concerned about the impact. And then I swing wildly to near hysteria. “What ifs” run rampant through me. And then back and forth. And back and forth. Constantly swinging between “Should I be more worried” and “I am freaking out about this!”

I’m not really worried about myself getting really sick from this virus. I worry for my parents (who still don’t seem to put themselves in the “elderly” category). I worry for my husband’s parents and grandparents. I worry about my 5th graders and not seeing them and pouring into their lives for the next month! (Side note: school let out yesterday at 3:00…since then I have received 10 emails from students). I worry about my 19 year old daughter who is on a girl’s trip with two other 19 year olds. (Do they know what to do in an emergency? I worry about my 22 year old son who is supposed to graduate from college in a few weeks and is trying to finish classes and exams in an unexplored way. I worry about his girlfriend who is a nurse and is working tirelessly. I am fearful for our world. Unsettling is the best way I know to describe it all.

So this morning as I sit sipping (gulping) my coffee in the almost quiet house, I am having to make a choice. I am the only one who can stop the swinging pendulum of emotions. I am choosing JOY. I am choosing freedom from fear. I am choosing to rest in the refuge of the Lord. He is my safe haven.

I prayed to the Lord and he answered me. He freed me from all of my fears. Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy. No shadow of shame will darken their faces. In my desperation I prayed and the Lord listened. He saved me from all my troubles. For the angel of the Lord is a guard; he surrounds and defends all who fear him. Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh the joys of those who take refuge in him!

Psalm 34:4-8

Why I Write

IMG_2115I set a goal for myself recently to do more things that make me happy. I am learning that self care is something that I’ve been desperately missing. I love doing things for others and taking care of everyone’s needs, but in the process of all of that, I tend to neglect what I really need. When I sat evaluated my self care goals, I was saddened that it was hard for me to articulate the things that would bring me happiness. In that process, I felt lost. I had lost sight of how to take care of myself. Eventually, I came up with a list of a few things that do bring me joy. The number one item on that last is writing. I’m not sure why I enjoy it so much. Part of it is the journey of taking a spark of an idea and turning into something more. Another part of it is just the release of thoughts and ideas and emotions that writing brings. I have journaled for years – and still do it often. But there’s something about putting a blog post out to the world. It’s not about the stats (although I do look at them), but rather its more about being comfortable enough in my own voice to share. There is a lot of vulnerability that comes with it. But also a lot of reward that comes with being a little uncomfortable. And when I do think about the numbers, it is nice to think about someone else in the universe is taking the time to hear my voice. 

Last week I wrote about my writing portfolio from my senior capstone. I came across a poem that I had not even remembered writing, but reading it really was the seed for this post. I guess if there is anything to take away from all of this it is this…find joy in what you do. Take care of your soul. Listen to the inner voice. Quite the noise, slow down and be at peace.

why i write

i write for me
to feel, to grieve
to let go and to remember

i write for validation
from my soul
and from my mind

i write to say the things
that i will never
have the strength to say aloud

i write to heal
to mend old wounds
and bandage fresh cuts

i write to make my world
meaningful, real, and 
worth living in