...but what if it's not well with my soul?

Having been awake since four o'clock, I'm sitting here, the end of July, in fuzzy socks, jeans, and a hoodie at six o'clock in the morning. I hear owls making their final calls, geese flying above me, the occasional car on the adjacent street, the wind chimes from my grandmother's funeral. I feel an abnormally chilly breeze, and see a lightening sky despite the sun trying to hold onto a few more minutes of sleep. A four year old is sleeping on the living room floor just on the other side of the door, completely innocent and hopeful. A four year old that deserves a much better world than what we're in. A four year old that has yet to experience the pains of this world in a capacity that shakes his entire being. A four year old that, despite his age, still knows things that we don't. A four year old that somehow changes everything all the time for the absolute better.

__________________________

I use my brain, listen to my heart, and trust my gut.

To a fault, I do these things. An annoyingly, disastrous fault.

Here's the thing, though: my soul controls all of them.

Whatever state my soul is in consumes my every thought, emotion, and action.

Lately, despite the smile I put on my face, my soul is not okay. My soul is

•tired

•burdened

•ashamed

•lonely

•angry

•disappointed

•weary

My soul has had enough:

•babies granted to unfit parents instead of loving ones struggling to conceive or unable to afford adoption

•suicide

•murder

•budget cuts and unemployment

•political correctness

•foster care and adoption

•cancer

•addictions

•the overall mistreatment of people

And I'm not alone. I know you are, too. We look at this world and everything in it and hate what it does. We hate that it judges and lies and hates. But I think the thing we hate most about it is that it steals.

It steals our joy, our happiness, our motivation, our optimism, our innocence... it steals away our loved ones.

I'm watching the world rapidly become less and less. We are losing good, sweet, loving people everyday. We're losing smiles and laughter. We're losing hugs and words of encouragement. We're losing friends, family, co-workers, neighbors - sometimes all of the above. We're losing random trips to the movies. We're losing "Wanna grab some wings after work?" We're losing "Just thought I'd stop in and say 'hi'". To us, it's a heartbreaking defeat. To everyone else, though.... it's just a face in the newspaper.

Behind that picture is a life. A person who was born, lived, and has now passed on. And in that living, they LIVED. They loved and were loved in return. They were devoted in whatever their role was - mother, father, sister, brother, grandmother, grandfather, uncle, aunt, cousin, etc. They were educated, worked hard, and lived with integrity. They helped those in need, and were always there for anyone who needed them. They were strong. They were loving. They were caring. They were protective. They were somebody's entire world. Everything important to them happened in the dash on the gravestone. The lifespan of each person varies, but the size of the dash is always the same.

None of this is okay with me. None of it. And I know this will sound selfish, but I'm extremely jealous of anyone who has family members alive that I don't. My friends are posting four and five generation family photos. I won't have that. I had lost grandparents before I was even born. I am 26 years old and have one living grandparent. ONE. And I do not take that for granted. That doesn't stop me from the occasional depression that comes when I realize how many people I only spent a short amount of time with. 

They say "only the good die young", but that's not entirely true. Only the good die. Period.

All of this sadness and sorrow and loss - none of it is okay with me. 

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll...

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say

"It is well, it is well with my soul."

It's not well with my soul. 

It is not well with my soul to watch my family experience heartache after heartache and not be able to do anything about it. It is not well with my soul to be woken up at four o'clock in the morning to find out another family member or friend has passed. It is not well with my soul to have had plans with someone, only to have them die before we could do them. It is not well with my soul to have spent all week knowing something bad was going to happen, but not know what that was. It is not well with my soul that I spent last night thinking a four year old had simply mixed up his pronouns when he said "He's high in the sky like Shadow. I miss him. I want to talk to him."

It is not well with my soul....

....and I desperately want it to be.

My Warrior Strong Community

com·mu·ni·ty
kəˈmyo͞onədē/

noun

1. a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common

2. a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.

I spent the first eight years of my life in a little white house in a family friendly neighborhood where everyone knew everyone, even if they didn't know them personally. Having spent sixteen years away from it, I've gained the appreciation for the sense of community that I've been able to come back to. As frustrating as it can be sometimes with everyone seemingly knowing your business, the heart of this town is full and strong and bigger than we think.

I have been challenged lately. I don't know if this is the exact reason, but it started after I read the book "Keep It Shut" and followed it's study "Zip It". It really is true that when you stop and listen you see so much around you. It prepared me for my new job in retail pharmacy in this small town. I have always been empathetic. I tend to take on the emotions of those around me. It always annoyed me and I fought it and put up walls. This town doesn't let you do that. And I kind of love that. I still get annoyed, don't get me wrong, but the world needs more empathy and less judgment. I see the pain on their faces when they come to the pharmacy, whether it's a physical ailment or a mental/emotional one. Sometimes I see people who used to light up a room come in with a cloud hanging over them. I have an opportunity at that register to make a difference, even if it's for that solitary moment. I was nervous about going back to dealing with the public, but I've realized that this isn't challenging like I thought. It's easy when they're faces you know and respect. It's your parent's classmate's parents who was your teacher, you old softball coach, your kindergarten best friend... I am only three weeks into this job, but I am so grateful for this opportunity. It has brought out a better side of me, and I've missed her greatly.

Tragedy has struck our community countless times. Classmates who have passed away from suicide, car accidents, even undetermined causes. Most recently,  we lost a high school senior a week before graduation. Our small community has somehow managed to simultaneously stop time and come together for this family. This community weeps together. When one of us hurts this deeply, everyone hurts. This week. I spent a lot of time in tears, or fighting them back, as neighbor after neighbor came into the pharmacy. Each one more devastated than the last. Each one heavy with the memories of those who have gone too soon in this community. Tears flowed freely and nobody casted judgment. They just passed a tissue.

I used to think I'd be better at the anonymity of a big city. This past year, especially these last few weeks, I've learned I'd much rather be part of a community like Mohawk. The friendly greetings and daily harassment from the coffee shop regulars. The fact that a twenty minute walk takes forty-five minutes because you stop and talk to people in their yards. The same faces you knew from twenty years ago, with a few more wrinkles. People who live modest lives in a less than modest town because this is home. We are neighbors. We are friends. We are family.

We are WARRIOR STRONG.

Just You Wait, Henry Higgins...

...just you wait.

In a world where everything is automatic and the entire universe is readily available at our fingertips, it can be extremely difficult to wait. Even when God inescapably tells you over and over again, you grow impatient. Trust in God is a nice thought, a beautiful song, and (at times) a frustrating existence.

Every day, I'm faced with people and situations where feelings were trusted more than the idea that God or the universe had something better planned. They have found love, success in their careers, expansion in their families. They're buying houses and traveling the world. It seems that those of us earnestly seeking guidance and answers are sitting here - waiting.

Waiting in obedience.

Waiting in hope.

Waiting in joy.

Waiting in faith.

Waiting in anticipation.

Waiting in growing discouragement.

You see, scripture tells me that God gave us dreams and desires, and if I take delight in Him, He will add them unto me. So if God gives these desires and tells us to wait, we can only assume that they are coming our way. But what if they don't? What if it turns out that, while God gives you dreams, they're still not the dreams He has for you? I don't believe He is a God of confusion, but I've seen plenty of evidence to support that theory.

The couples struggling with infertility.

The financial burdens of so many hard-working people.

The terminally ill waiting for a cure.

We all hope for something. We all have something (or several somethings) that we want more than the next.

For me, I want what everyone wants, just maybe not in the same capacity. Love, a family, a job that I love, the independent life I thought I'd be living at this point. But the one thing I want over everything else, the one thing that would make me happier that all of those other things combined because it is the one thing that hinders or effects all if these things -

freedom from my anxiety.

The feelings of high stress, nervousness, and worry.

The sensations of shaking that have turned into very obvious shaking.

The mood swings.

The intensity of emotions.

The inability to control them every minute of every day.

The energy it takes to wake up every morning.

The complete exhaustion from just the thought of encountering people.

The coping mechanisms that don't ever seem to work.

The immediate jumping to the conclusion that someone is dead if they don't answer their phone.

The fear of the house burning down and loved ones being trapped at night.

The nausea.

The migraines.

The stomach aches.

The chest pains.

The restless nights.

The difficulty breathing.

The irritability. 

The total lack of control. 

The toll it's taking on my life and the ones of those I love.

More than anything, I want to rediscover ambition and lose the inhibitions to go after them. I want to lose the negativity and the hurt and the rejection and the fear of these things happening in my relationships.

I want to believe that anxiety isn't my cross to bear. But since it appears to be true, I want to believe that I will find ways to manage it because I am more than this affliction.

Without you pulling it, the tide comes in. Without you twirling it, the earth can spin. Without you pushing them, the clouds roll by. If they can do without you, Ducky, so can I!