Friendship

These past few weeks I've been participating in a program called "21 Days of Friendship" through a website designed to help women meet and make deep and meaningful (platonic) friendships.  I have to admit, at first I was kinda embarrassed to do a program like that, I mean, friendship should come naturally right?  If you have a hard time making friends, then obviously there is something wrong with you - or so I thought.  Yesterday I drove back home from a vacation in Minnesota where I met some friends I've known on Twitter for quite a long time, but had never met them in person.  On the 12 hour drive back, I was listening to the audiobook The Hiding Place.  I'm still not quite done with the book, but it's already left a huge impression on me and how I view circumstances and people around me.

What Helps Negativity. For Me at Least.

I've always been very prone to depresive thinking and thought patterns.  By nature, I've always been fairly negative and cynical, though I try to keep those traits at bay and channel them into being discerning and analytical.  One thing I've noticed about myself, as well as other people, is that when people are down, stressed, worried, or else, one thing that always seems to help is validation.  I know with me, I always try to brush off things that are going on as no big deal.  Sometimes this works, but not usually.  Someone telling me that it's okay to be upset at what's going on, is golden!

Now, I can't necessarily say that everyone else is like that, but I would venture to say that a lot, if not most women, are.  Men, I know handle things like that differently and I haven't quite cracked what helps them in times like that.  But knowing that it's okay to be upset/angry/stressed/sad about stuff helps a lot.  It also helps when people tell me they are praying for me and offer me encouragement.  If someone is like me, they aren't very good at offering encouragement.  If you can't be encouraging verbally, however - touch works WONDERS!

One night this week I was really upset, and one of my friends texted my mom to tell her.  She knew I was upset but didn't realize the degree.  I was going to bed but called me in her room and I lied down on the bed with her for a while, and she curled up closer to me and started rubbing my back and head.  Just the touch was probably as helpful as anything she said, and my mom has a gift of encouraging people!

So yeah, if you know someone (particularly a woman, and particularly me, I guess!) if you see that she is upset, listen to her, and be honest, but let her know it's okay to be upset.  Touch her arm or her back.  I find light back rubs and head massages to be some of the most relaxing and comforting things someone can do!  Pray for me.  Pray with me if you can.

Kind of a random post, but I was thinking about it a lot over the past few days and just wanted to get it out.

Church this morning.

Usually it's at night that the loneliness stings the worst. Today, however, it seems like everywhere I turn I get a reminder of how alone, unaccomplished, and insignificant I feel.  I know that people weren't meant to live life alone.  That we were meant to live in community.  In close-knit circles with other people.  If that is so, why are relationships so messy?  I'm not talking about romantic relationships.  I'm talking about friendships.  Relationships with co-workers.  Family.  Why is it that in time of need, at least in my case, I can't necessarily speak for other people, when I need community, relationships, and people the most, that I pull back from people, and keep them at arms length?  Wouldn't it make sense that if being with other people was a natural remedy for loneliness, heartbreak, and a whole slew of other things, that it would be natural and easy to reach out?  Why the heck is it not???????

Today in Sunday School we were talking about prayer, and How Christ is an example for prayer.  We talked about honesty in prayer, when/how is the best time to do it, and the vital importance of prayer.  How prayer is a source of strength.  It's our food, you could say, spiritual food required for growth.

I've never really understood prayer.  I've never understood the point of it, or why it is so important.  All I know is  that for some reason, God wants us to pray.  This mentality was addressed in SS this morning, but I can honestly say, I've thought this way for years:  God is sovereign and will do whatever He wants, regardless of whether or not I pray.  The series on prayer we're going through has been helpful, though.

The morning church service, though, was painful, to put it lightly.  The pastor was recognizing the high school graduates in the congregation.  Which is good, they should be recognized, graduating is a big deal.  It was painful, though, because he kept talking about the next four years of college, and all the choices that will have to be made.  Choices about careers, life, relationships, and family.  He kept talking about "finding your mate" in college, and I just wanted to scream every time he did.  (I should point out, I'm not angry at the pastor for saying those things, I was just very frustrated as he kept talking about several things that I've been dealing with over the past month (and longer for some) as if they were no big deal.)  As if the four years spent in college is plenty of time to figure those things out.  But here I am, 2 years out of college, AND I'M NO WHERE I'D LIKE TO BE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wanted to tell the graduates that all the answers in life won't be answered in college.  That they will change their majors several times, not graduate in four years but more likely 5 or 6, that even after they graduate they won't find a job in their chosen field because no one cares about education, they only care about experience, and that they will get hurt more times than they will be able to count!  As much as I wanted to say those things out loud, I thought it better to keep it to myself.  Either that, or I was just too much of a chicken to say it out loud.

So yeah, all in all, I'm glad I went to SS this morning, but I wish I had plans or something that I had to leave for which would have prevented me from hearing the sermon.  I can't really believe I'm still planning on this, but  I do intend to go to the evening service.  Maybe that one will be better.

Here comes the word vomit...

It's been a rough few weeks.  I'm not really sure what all to say about what's going on suffice to say that I've been feeling alone, almost abandoned at times, and it's been really hard for me to honestly share what's going on with people around me.  When I do, three things happen.   Before I share with someone what's going on in my head, I'm terrified.  I'm terrified at the very notion of sharing, of letting someone in and being vulnerable with another human being who may turn around and hurt me.  While I'm sharing, it feels good.  Yeah, there's some lingering fears still, but mostly, it's nice to actually let out what I've been holding in to the point of explosion, it feels like.  After sharing, I feel doubt and anxiety.  I'm afraid I shared too much.  I'm afraid that the person/people I shared with are thinking "wow, she's making a huge deal out of nothing".  Or "wow, she's one of those people who is out to get attention and sympathy wherever she goes".  Or "wow, this is juicy, we'll have to store this information away so we can use it against her later!".

I know I'm not the only one who has a hard time letting people in.  For some reason, I still feel the urge to defend my fears by saying that all three of those things has happened to me before.  Each by someone I thought was a close friend.  Not all the same person, necessarily, but each of those things has happened when I opened up and let someone in to know my secrets.

Some secrets, huh?  I'm posting them on a blog for all to see.

Last Sunday I opened up to 3 different women about the situation I've been dealing with over the past few weeks.  The first one, I had never met or spoken with before.  We just started talking after the morning church service and BOOM after a few minutes, word-vomit.  The door was opened (I don't remember exactly how) and the floods just came pouring through.  She was great though, very understanding and sympathetic (see, there I go, seeking sympathy...) and when I was done, she shared with me about her life and the difficulties she's been dealing with.  The fact that she shared too, not only what she's been dealing with, but also her insecurities and fears about sharing, (which oddly enough, were very similar to mine!) made me feel a lot better.  Made me feel not so alone, or unreasonable for feeling the things I feel.

Later, after the evening service, I also opened up to her sister, and her mom.  I would not have said anything to them but her mom asked me how a certain thing in my life was going, which opened up the floodgates once again, and everything kinda spilled out again.  AGAIN!!!!  Why can't I keep my mouth shut and keep my problems to myself????  After all, that's why they're called "my problems" right?  I could tell the three women were related though, because these two I talked to were also great.  Supportive and understanding.  I was going through the same story again, that I went through with the first girl, with mom and sister, and the first girl walked behind them.  I thought to myself... "great, she knows my fears, she hears me sharing again, she must think I'm out to get attention... wonderful..."

There are some friends who I feel bad for because, since they are the only ones that I've been open with through this whole thing, they get it all.  No filter.  Overload.  I'm sure they are sick of hearing the same sob-story again and again.

I need help.  I don't want to ask for it, but I need help.  I need prayer and encouragement, but I'm afraid to ask for it for fear that I'm asking too much.  That I'm weak.  That I'm frail.  That I'm needy.

It's nice to know I have a strong audience online.

I'm watching Pursuit of Happiness right now for the first time and I can't help but think that happiness is as elusive as it is overrated.

I really have no where else I can rant except for on here, and I have to be honest, I have no idea who, if anyone, reads my blogs, and there are some people that I want to read it because I want their prayers and encouragement, but I'm afraid to seek them out for whatever reason.  There are some that I don't care if they read my blogs.  And there are some people that I don't want reading my blogs because I'm embarrassed at what I have to say and I don't really have the ability to block or filter them from my blog.  To be honest, I don't even know if the people I don't want reading my blog reading my blog.  That is why a lot of times, I will write a blog, then a short time after-wards I will take it down, in hopes that someone that I wanted to see it, saw it in the short time it was up and public.

Dirty Rags

    [6] We have all become like one who is unclean,
        and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.
    We all fade like a leaf,
        and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.
 (Isaiah 64:6 ESV)

But we are all as an unclean [thing], and all our righteousnesses [are] as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.
(Isaiah 64:6 KJV)

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
(Isaiah 64:6 NIV)

These verses do not paint a pretty picture.  They make us out to be trifle, easily disposed of, the epitome of disgusting, all because of our incredible depths of sin.

The Greek word used to describe filthy rags, or polluted garment is actually referring to specifically a "menstrual cloth", or as we might say in our day - a dirty tampon.

For years I struggled with picturing this verse or understanding what it was actually saying.  I pictured myself, or someone, a generic human, presenting the best they had to offer God, which was a used pad, and I honestly couldn't comprehend it.  How could that be the BEST someone could offer?  Surely there was something better?  The person, or I would present the bloody cloth to God, while looking down, red-faced, and absolutely ashamed that this was the best they could offer, but God, for whatever, inexplicable reason would accept it, and this, for whatever inexplicable reason, accept me.