elbow grease

when the shine has come off something,

what do we do?  In todays culture we toss it, and buy something shinier and repeat until kingdom come.  This "its broke don't fix it" mentality is hurting so many parts of our culture.   What if we were to instead polish until the cows come home and then shine is rediscovered?  What would happen if we discovered our elbow grease and the power of that particular and precious joint.   Not all that is broken is unfixable, and not all that has faded is without worth.   We give up so easily these days and expect things to change on there own.

Lessons in Toughness

I grabbed a hold of the cold lifeless stone that offered a small pathetic feeling of grounding as my mind began to spin and I felt like I was loosing control of my body.   I didn’t trust myself not to fall.   I knew that behind me was hundreds of unforgiving feet and in front of me was the rock I gripped with all the power in the tips of my fingers.  I felt paralyzed by fear, and almost unable to force movement to my body’s extremities.  I heard voices, even though my discerning mind was temporarily disabled.   Somehow, through gentle guidance I didn’t fall, I didn’t stay stranded on that mountain, and I didn’t turn around.  I pressed on and met more challenges after overcoming my fanatic fear of heights.    Feeling wobbly, and uncertain about my body’s capabilities I slipped my way up a mountain peak.  Emotionally and physically I felt numb.  I was certain my gauge of fear wasn’t working until those frightful moments and then I was all too aware of my mortality.   I realised in those moments after my paralysing fear that I am tough.   I accomplished something that my mind told me I couldn’t do.   I pursued the experience despite my fragile state.    

When I reached the top, when I realised there was no more, I had made it, I couldn’t hold back tears.  I’m not sure now if it was the shock of it all, the whole weeklong experience.  It all seemed to culminate at that jagged rock that proudly protrudes above peaks and valleys below.  I proved to myself that I am capable of things that surpass my expectations.

Tough is a word that is thrown around frivolously.   “It was a tough day”  “he was a tough prof”  “tough assignment”  “tough luck…” Tough is word that I believe defines each one of us as human beings.   We all have been dealt difficult cards of varying degrees.  But the degree doesn’t separate us from the fact that we are all fallen human beings that face challenges that are overcome everyday.    Life is hard for the best of us, and the reality is that if you are:  not easily broken, capable of endurance, or not easily influenced… you are tough.  And each one of us has been faced with times in life when it has forced us to be just that.  

Afraid as I climbed up the side of this mountain, how on earth was I supposed to get down?  It was petrifying to scramble up the seemingly unforgiving summit.    As we made our way down, I crossed the rocks that I clinged to for dear life, this time with much more grace and confidence.   My previous convictions that the journey down would be dangerously difficult were proved wrong and allowed for my blood pressure to return to normal-ish, and my focus to widen giving me the ability to see the majesty that was around me.  This wider perspective gave focus to the physical reminder of what I just accomplished as the mountain stood tall behind me.   I am capable of climbing mountains, overcoming my fears, and surpassing my own expectations.   This requires a certain level of "toughness" that I will now wear proudly.   

a blank page

I turn to writing to fill a void and to organize.  This blank space becomes my worksheet to sift through tangled thoughts that cloud my judgement or weigh me down.   This process of stringing together words, words that alone mean very little, but together have the power to tell my untold stories give me consolation.   I have found that writing when life is good, becomes a chore, but when life throws a curve ball I can seek shelter in words.  I guess this process resembles prayer, in that generally we only find ourselves on our knees if life put us there.  This last chapter of my life has formed cracks in my foundation, and highlighted troubles that I was previously unaware of.  And like any soldier, I pressed on, and fought on, knowing that this battle needed to be fought in order for the victory I wanted so badly, I hurt.   We suffer and search for meaning, and seek it out the strangest of places, only to discover that what we are searching for isn’t there.   

Life… that four letter word that seems to have infinite definitions; the life we want, the life we have… the life we covet, life given, life taken, a lifelong pursuit. What I know now is that it isn’t fair.  We suffer and search for it’s meaning, and seek it out in the strangest of places, only to discover that it isn’t there.  

Life is hard... Its luster has worn off this summer. I feel I am finally growing up. I'm all too aware of its many flaws and the need for something consistent in this ever-changing world we live in. Things I thought could never hurt me have let me down, they've broken my heart, tried to ruin my spirit and made me all too aware of our humanity.  We are not perfect beings, and because of this, we are flaw ridden and have the capacity to hurt those we love the most.

It's felt lately like my heart has been wrung dry.  I am disoriented and wounded, which makes taking a step forward challenging.  Maybe now is one of those times where I need to simply be carried by a savior that loves me, who will bare my burden with me and give me the strength I need, moment to moment.  Despite the immeasurable hurt I feel, I sense God is moving. He's shaping me and giving me a small current of peace at the center of this tumultuous storm I am navigating through.

photo cred: DawsonFriesen.com 

My phantom limb

I am not sure what hurt more, hearing that the love of my life didn’t love me like he did before, or slipping off the ring that symbolized a promise of marriage to him.   Through soggy eyes I forced my foot to accelerate down the road away from him, feeling like I was leaving the air I needed to breathe with him.  This time it was different than the times before, I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again.  I descended down the hill and pulled over towards the shade where I wept.   The sting of what just happened was replenished when he drove past me.  

I keep reviewing the last two months, over and over in my head…  I’m trying to figure out where we went wrong.   What was the cause of this heartache?  I try to understand that life has situated us both in our own storms that we have to navigate through.  The storm for me left me feeling like I simply wanted a co captain and someone to share the burden with. For him, I think I became the burden, and he wanted to manage the storm on his own.    I ache from head to toe at this realisation.   I didn’t realise the intensity of pain that a broken heart bares.

What makes this worse, is the reflection back a week, and feeling so confident and happy in this relationship.   Does that make me blind?  Or does that make him a brilliant actor?  Or does that mean that we really were happy?   I ache so deeply at the thought of not having him in my life.  I don’t understand it.  

A year ago there was so much confidence between the two of us.  He was invincible in my eyes.   Life, as it does, changed and forced us to adapt, reshaping the way our relationship looked.  After eight months of distance, the return home, which should have been happy, became tension-filled.   We couldn’t find our footing.  There was something in the way.   I felt like a wall was put up between him and I.   I couldn’t scale it, I couldn’t knock it down, I don’t even know if I knew it was there until it was too late.  

Together, we discovered the wall and worked to tear it down.   I think we got ¾ of the way through it, but a little still remained, that distanced us from each other.  

My finger feels naked.  Or maybe it’s more like a phantom limb.  I forget that it’s gone and still gingerly wash my hair or manoeuvre with anything.  I look and expect to see it there, much like I still expect to hear from him throughout the day, or to feel that love again, my fingers still go to play with it, or protect it.  I feel as though I’ve gone through some strange tunnel in life, and found myself right back where I started a year ago.

This summer has been a disaster in many ways…  I naively walked into it with the anticipation of a wedding, and a happy marriage.  I remember arriving home and was anxious to go and try on my wedding dress that I loved, and was so excited about him seeing me in.   Life threw too many curve balls at me this summer, and I wasn’t carefree…  life threw him curve balls too and He wasn’t either.  I felt like we were just starting to understand each other, and how we processed these stresses when 'we' were cut off.   I had so much hope, despite the challenges we had previously faced.   

Realizing now, my life has completely changed; I want nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare.  I want to feel whole again.  Or maybe, I just woke up from a dream…  a dream where I met someone that made me feel alive and so loved, he wanted no one but me.

I’m now journeying down a road I don’t know…  a road that twists and turns through memories I can’t face with out threatening tears.   A road that feels like I am walking alone.  I know God has a plan and a purpose for me, and that I will love again.  I just can’t see it, or believe it right now.   I want to have unmoveable faith that stands firm in this storm.  I want so badly to simply be brave.  

The image that has continually returned throughout this heartache is the image of the ocean... it's crashing waves that carry so much force they can knock you down, much like the waves that crash over me from time to time as reminders of his absence pass by me.  The image of Jesus calling me out onto the water, to a place that is unknown and fearful, where I have no option but to trust.   He and I discovered the worship song Oceans together, and now it has become my theme song.   

Grief is the last act of love we have to give those we loved.  

Where there is deep grief there was great love.

- FB Blowing

I am not going to be bitter, I am not going to hold onto resentment.  I am choosing to love despite my heartache.   I am praying that God's grace will flow through me and make this journey maybe not easier, but just allow me to have peace, and the ability to trust in his perfect will.   There is so much truth to - when life knocks you on your knees you have nowhere to look but up. 

 I have loved you at your darkest - Romans 5:8