From the Annals of Facebook: December 29, 2009

I posted this on Facebook 11 years ago today… that I find myself in a similar situation is eerie. Makes me wonder when will I ever get the point so I can really move forward or level up.

 

Where Crossroads Meet Window of Opportunity

On Sunday my pastor talked about time… how it’s short and how we need to be open to moves of God when they happen. I have been known to take some bold leaps of faith… only to run into a rock wall like Willie Coyote, Super Genius. Stepping out in faith does not always mean that you’ll be sipping Mint Juleps wearing rose colored sun glasses while a host of angels sing “Kumbaya” in the background. Sometimes, you step out during that window of opportunity like Abraham did in the Old Testament only to find out that there is a famine in the Promised Land. Things aren’t going your way. You aren’t even sure what way you’re going.

So does that mean that God is a liar or that you should only step out in faith when you can see the other side? No on both counts. Me? I wish I could step out wearing a parachute, but then that wouldn’t be faith now, would it?

I took a step of faith by quitting my job. Best thing I’ve ever done in eleven years. Jesus said, “Go” so I did. Unfortunately, he didn’t say where and I’ve been wandering around in the desert ever since. My faith, which started out really puny at the beginning of the trip, was not strong enough for the journey. I wondered where the hell I’d packed my parachute, but I never once doubted that I’d heard the Lord or that quitting was the right thing to do. I still don’t.

There has been all kinds of fall out (good and bad) from my decision and my faith has grown exponentially, but my decision to step out in faith then, is having consequences now that I couldn’t have foreseen. If I could have seen what was coming down the pike back then… would I have still quit?

When you hear Jesus and you KNOW that you’ve heard him, the answer to that question should be obvious. Would I have done things differently? Yes. I would have focused on Jesus and not my circumstances because all that ever does is make me fearful… and fear eventually leads to depression and, with me, depression is just a bus ride away from suicidal. Yes, I would have focused on Jesus and gotten his perspective on how I was to enter the Promise Land of Non-Teaching.

As it stands now, I’ve been unemployed/partially employed since May. I love my job with Job Corps, but it doesn’t pay me enough to pay the bills. As a result, I am finding myself in a position where I have to look for another place to live. At first, it was a terrifying shock. Bipolar Mode activated???

Then I did what I should have done in the beginning: I focused on Jesus. The more I prayed, the calmer I became. It’s amazing what you can hear when you’re not listening to the panic in your own mind. Jesus was giving me another opportunity. If he’d asked me to move three weeks ago, I would have listed all the reasons why I couldn’t possibly move. Fear being number one on my list. Lack of a job. Lack of money. Everything else on the list would have started with “lack” and faith would have fit rightfully at the top.

I made a huge mistake in 2003 when I didn’t quit teaching then. Jesus gave me an out: my school closed down. I could’ve looked for other work in another field. I hated teaching all the way back then and God answered my feverish prayers: “Lord, please let this be my last teaching year.”

The out was unavoidably a God-thing. I can’t even tell you how many times I prayed that before 2003 and after. But I couldn’t move beyond my fear. I didn’t take the out… I took the first teaching job that I could find…and I always wondered, “What would God have done if only I’d taken the out?”

The window of opportunity closed and I got stranded in teaching for six mentally traumatic years. Well, you only have to stick your finger in a socket once to get the point. If ever God gave me another window of opportunity, I didn’t want to miss it. And I didn’t. When he asked me to quit back in November 2008, I heard him clearly and have not regretted the decision. And now, I believe he is behind this call for me to move. It doesn’t really matter what happened in the physical world. In the spiritual plane the marching order was clear: move on and don’t try packing any parachutes.

My life is at a crossroads. I’m at the corner of Drama and Choice.

I could be morphing into Bipolar Girl with all the accompanying mood swings and episodes. Or I can choose to keep my eyes on Jesus. I can stop doing what I’ve always done in the past which was to completely withdraw and try to do it myself. But that never worked well for me. I need to humble out and be open and accountable about my needs. Both physical and spiritual. I need a lot of stuff in the physical… but I need Jesus more. I need help and I need prayer. I have so many questions about what God is doing in my life.

My panic is telling me to focus all my prayers on more hours at my job, a studio so I can live by myself, insurance so I can take care of my mental health and physical health needs, and money to pay my bills. But God knows I need all of that. The Bible says I’m supposed to “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness.” So, while you’re praying for all that other stuff for me (and if you know of a studio that might be available on this side of the island let me know)… please pray that I would keep my focus firmly on Jesus as I seek to put him first in my life.

And while you’re at it… check out the Tony Dungy video from “I Am Second” that I have posted on my wall. Makes you see failure and disappointment in a whole new light.

Day 16: My Day in Music (Part IV: AMEN!!!)

I find it really interesting how music coupled with visuals can have a completely different effect on me than just the words alone. When I listen to this song my my headset, I can’t help but wanting to dance because it’s so upbeat. The other day I was on campus near Crawford Hall… and since there was nobody around I did dance.

This morning… it was the last song that I listened to before I started editing… and it had me standing on my feet and dancing. That was the kind of energy that I needed. Now? I’m tired… and really hungry. I’ve also got a toothache in the making… I do not have the bandwidth to dance right now. So THIS lyric video with the ocean and the sky? It reminded me of Maui. I felt peaceful just looking at the water.

Oahu is nothing like Maui. During the last school year I was too busy to find time to get to the ocean more than once or twice. Then COVID hit and the beach seems a million miles away as I dodge cars to catch the bus to campus and cry over the many homeless people in this city.

Moving to Oahu caused me a lot of anxiety and depression. It’s called “acculturative stress” and it’s actually a thing that can really mess with your mental health. I thought I’d be able to go to the beach every day like I did on Maui. The beach was a huge mood regulator for me… when that didn’t happen, I struggled. I’m claustrophobic. Being cooped up in my studio made it seem like my problems were bigger than God.

Now I’m reminded of what Jesus told the Samaritan woman about how God didn’t need to be worshiped on any sacred mountain. True worshipers would worship in spirit and in truth (John 4:19-24). It didn’t matter where I worship. It matters who I worship. Worship is also not all about emotional hype. It’s good when you feel that… but in the absence of any warm fuzzy emotion, my love and devotion to God are still rock solid.

If I’ve learned anything during this pandemic it’s that God is where I am. He’s not confined in church buildings, so I haven’t been all traumatized that we cannot meet in person. He’s also not only the God of the Outdoors. I miss not being able to pray and have quiet time at the beach… or at the Maui Tropical Plantation… or at the Maui Ocean Center… or at the Queen Ka’ahumanu Mall at 6am when it’s empty… but all that shows me is that I can worship God ANYWHERE. Even on Oahu in a tiny studio surrounded by buildings and people who mash my buttons.

Yes, I do get a bit stir-crazy living in community with a bunch of strangers who like to slam doors. Sometimes I need to get away so I go to campus to just to be. But the reality is… if I couldn’t go out, God would find a way to get my eyes focused on him. If Corrie ten Boom could worship God in a Nazi concentration camp, then surely I can find ways to worship and praise him in my little studio. And I learned after my hysterectomy in 2010 that true worship is not confined to singing. I don’t always have to be singing to worship God. Corrie couldn’t sing in the concentration camp. There are so many different expressions of worship. All God asks is that we mean it with our hearts.

Today is Day 16. My writing was my true act of worship today. At a secular university, I wrote a thesis proposal openly proclaiming faith in God in my search for truth and mental wellness. I couldn’t have finished this thesis proposal without all the people God put in my life. I am thankful for them and thankful to him. So I end this post with a really loud AMEN!!

Day 16: My Day in Music (Part 3 – Dream Small)

After that last post… I had no idea what I was going to find as I look for a video for this song. It feels a might like Christmas. Can wait to see what I find…

Ok. That was sweet. At first I wasn’t sure because all those shiny faced Christians in the video were all white. The racial divide in the church is also a big source of emotional distress… but that’s best left for another post. As faces of color were included I was able to be still and focus on the message which is powerful because of what it tells us not to do.

I know so many Christians who are dealing with heavy stress because they are convinced that they have to do everything in order to be a “good Christian.” We sometimes think we have to be perfect… that we have to say “yes” to everything and that we always have to do more. God did not say, “Go Big or Go Home.” He’s not really all that interested in us doing great things for him. He’s great without us.

It has caused me a lot of emotional distress over the years believing that I had to achieve great things. Growing up smart isn’t as easy as it sounds. People have always had really high expectations of me. I’ve always had high expectations of myself. When all that greatness never happened I hit an emotional wall because I had what’s called a “fixed mindset.” Essentially it explains why I began to struggle with depression and suicidal ideation in college. I didn’t know how to handle failure.

When I got to Berkeley, I wasn’t prepared. I had the grades to get in, but that was about it. I did not have grit. I cracked under the pressure and had nobody to turn to for help. I let my family know when I left for college that I wasn’t likely to come back. I had reasons for burning that bridge, but it meant that life would be that much harder as I tried and failed because there was nobody to help me get back up.

Even after I became a Christian I kept thinking that I had to do really big things in order to prove myself worthy. When I failed at those things, I believed that I was failing at the Christian walk. Now I understand that God doesn’t ask us to prove ourselves. He wants us to BE ourselves. He’s not expecting me or anybody else to do “big things” for him. He’s capable of doing big things without us.

Now? I’m content to do my little part in his bigger picture. Would I like my thesis to help change the world for some people? Yes. I would. Do I expect it to change the entire world? No. Not really… but if God has plans for it that he hasn’t told me about… I’m down with that!

Dreaming small today helped me stop obsessing about minutia with my thesis proposal draft. Editing is never done. You can always change a word or move a sentence. If I hadn’t remembered what God can do with our small offerings, I might still be working on it because it’s not technically due until midnight tonight. I submitted my draft to my thesis committee at 5:55pm!!! I’d MUCH rather be done and doing this now. And in one more post, I’m going to eat. I’m starving!

Today is Day 16… and I will keep giving my small dreams to God and see what he does with them!

Day 16: My Day in Music – Part 2: Famous For (I Believe)

Ok… so even in THIS God is soooo good!

I wanted to find a video that had lyrics for “Famous For (I Believe)” by Tauren Wells. It’s one of the songs on my Amazon Prime playlist that get played A LOT.

Instead of a lyric video I found THIS!!! It’s going to become one of my frequently played YouTube videos!!

One thing that has always caused me acute emotional distress is when other Christians make it seem like you haven’t received the Holy Spirit if you don’t speak in tongues. God has gifted me in a many ways, but tongues is not one of my gifts.

It saddens me that the body of Christ can be so divided over something that God meant to build up the church. I do not speak in tongues nor do I want to. My prayer language is dance. When I dance I got to a place in the spirit where I feel like I’m flying. When I pray, I pray in English because as a writer and a “word person” there are so many nuances to the English language that are lost on the average person. As a kid I used to read the dictionary like it was a novel. Words were the only real friends that I had growing up. I am thankful for the gift of English.

But if I had to speak an actual tongue, I’d want it to be Spanish. I think Spanish is a beautiful language and I’ve studied it for years. Unfortunately, I was never fluent and once I went into the Bipolar Bubble what I did know got swallowed up by memory deficits. But I’ve still find peace listening to worship songs in Spanish. And since I retained the accent (I’ve got a really good accent) I read 1 Corinthians 13 and other familiar passages in Spanish because it sounds so pretty and because I know what they means in English.

When I watched this video and they busted out in SPANISH!

Oh my Sweet Jesus! The atmosphere in this room shifted! I would’ve LOVED to have been there with them feeling all the emotion that they poured into that song because that was some SERIOUS worship of the Most High happening! I’m excited just writing about it.

Today is Day 16 and I worship the Famous One.

Day 16: My Day in Music (Part I)

Music is a powerful mood regulator. Today was going to be an emotional day and I needed to mindful of my moods. First semester as I worked on one of my final papers I got so stressed out my mind took me to a really dark place. I didn’t realize how powerful my emotions would be or just how vulnerable you are after a major academic accomplishment.

When I submitted my first draft of this proposal, I went through a weird emotional place afterwards. Not dark, just weird…like something was missing. God showed me that I hadn’t properly celebrated the milestone. I ended up sending the entire 32-page draft to friends and loved ones as if it were a baby and I was the proud mother.

What surprised and honored me most is that people actually read it! I got so many beautiful well wishes and supportive comments that the tears, when they came, weren’t a sign of sadness or depression. I realized that I cry when I’m overwhelmingly happy. Celebrating that milestone with people who love me made me realize that my baby steps matter to people because I matter to people.

That experience taught me that I need to cultivate a healthy mindset before, during, and after I write. The resulting emotional highs are “mountain top experiences” and I didn’t want to fall into the wilderness or valley experiences that often seem to follow those emotional highs.

This morning as I prepared to finish my final thesis proposal… I wanted to position my heart and my mind before the Lord. I created a worship soundtrack to begin my work. Three songs were on my mind and I wanted to have them before me. Listening to them changed the atmosphere this morning. I wasn’t focusing on any of the usual distractions or triggers.

Posting about them now? I need to hear them again because I just submitted my final draft to my thesis committee!!! At first I was anxious. Then I was afraid to hit “Send.” I could’ve kept that up for hours. I was reminded of when I took swimming lessons two years ago. I hated getting into the pool because I was afraid of the water. I just had to take a deep breath and get it.

SO… taking a deep breath, I hit “Send.”

Once I did it… I didn’t know what I felt. It was rather anticlimactic. That’s not a good place for me either so I came here in the middle of the ambiguous emotion because I want to remember this moment. And writing will help me process so that my day ends with me honoring God.

My thesis defense is on December 3 and there are “miles to go before I sleep.” I have no idea how to navigate all the challenges that will be facing me between now and then. Praise God I’ve got people to turn to for wisdom, guidance, direction, prayer, support… I am blessed no matter whatever this is that I’m feeling.

I’m going to give each of the songs its own post and reflect on them until I’ve reframed this moment into the joyous celebration that it is. Then I’m going to eat because I haven’t eaten since yesterday.

Today is Day 16… and I reached another milestone because The Good Shepherd did what he is famous for! He guided me through the emotional final editing process by reminding me that I didn’t have to get everything just right today and that it was ok to “dream small.” Yes, I’m “finished,” but there is so much more to do as God continues to lead me on this journey… so all I can say right now is, “Amen!!”

Day 30: Celebrating Another Milestone: A 2nd Draft is Born

I finished my second draft of my thesis proposal this morning!

This is me pausing to celebrate that milestone in a healthy and adaptive way. First semester as I was finishing my last paper I encountered computer problems. I’m a technophobe because a long string of traumatic computer malfunctions. That day… I’d already gotten an extension. I could not afford to have computer problems. I spiraled down into a really dark place.

Sitting on the floor outside my bathroom, sleep deprived and completely overwhelmed by the fact that I was unable to fix the computer problem. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped.

I contemplated going to go sit in the bathtub and slitting my wrists.

In all my years of struggling with depression and suicidal ideation, I’d never gone there before. Pills. I’ve always considered pills. Never have I thought of such an immediate exit plan.

Praise God for whispering into that dark valley. The Holy Spirit prompted me to reach out to the one person on the planet who would know that she didn’t have to try to fix me in that minute. What I needed was somebody to listen to me as I remembered things I’d seen God do in my life that semester. She knew that I believe in, and stand on, the truth of Revelation 12:11 which says:

They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.

There is power in remembering what God has done and telling other people. As I remembered what God had already brought me through, I started to calm down. I KNEW that he hadn’t brought me that far to lead me to a bathtub and a sharp knife. With a prayer from my friend and some help from my next door neighbor, I was able to complete the assignment and hit send. Despite feeling like I was drowning on dry land for months, I completed first semester of grad school with a 3.9 grade point average.

There has never been any question that I am a good writer or that I am smart. I have always had the potential to succeed… but mental illness always had a way of derailing my dreams and visions until now.

My thesis proposal speaks to how my inability to regulate my emotions; acclimate to new and stressful environments; and communicate effectively across intercultural barriers created the perfect storm for “acute psychological distress.”

My distress wasn’t biomedical in origin. I didn’t need to be on lithium because I wasn’t born Bipolar Girl. Yet I ended up taking medication for nearly 20 years for an illness that I didn’t have. God, in his mercy, sent me to college to learn about well-observed phenomena and the well-researched and well-documented theories that seek to explain them.

It is because God put me on this path that earlier today I submitted a 52-page testimony of how God walked me through the dark valley of mental illness. Thought I continue to struggle to regulate my emotions, what I really struggle with is a “failure to communicate” and medication can’t fix that.

My thesis proposal draft is my emerging effort to add my voice to the academic conversation about mental illness. Of course, like all drafts… this draft was not “finished,” but I’m learning not to second guess myself. Was there more that I could’ve added? Yep. Were there mistakes? Undoubtedly. Are there gaps in my logic, flaws in my argument, and limitations to the claims that I tried to make but failed? Yes, yes, and yes. Will my thesis chair have targeted comments on how I can improve it? I sincerely hope so.

Change and growth do not happen in a vacuum. My perception of my work is valid because it’s my perspective. Yet my advisor will have a different perspective that is rooted in experience and expertise that can only come from having walked the same (yet uniquely different path). She’s going to help make sure I don’t limp across the finish line like I did first semester.

Second semester one of my final assignments was about factors that helped first year COM MA students make a smooth transition to online classes once COVID19 restrictions went into place. Most people in the class focused on technology or flexibility of the professors to make changes.

COVID19 threw the university into a liminal space… and some professors handled that jarring transition better than others. My thesis chair was amazing. I couldn’t have gotten through my first year of graduate school without her or the knowledge she shared in the two classes I took with her.

While I did acknowledge that technology and faculty flexibility were important factors in my paper, I had a theory about what really helped me make the transition. I called it “The Yoda Factor,” because I’ve often likened my journey to that of Luke Skywalker. Luke never would’ve made it through the movie if it wasn’t for Yoda’s presence in his life. Yoda gave him the basic tools to start the journey… then let him get to it. Yoda helped Luke course-correct when needed. Luke was in a liminal space and needed a guide through that very emotional period in his life.

Graduate school can be an incredibly emotional time—another giant liminal space where people struggle to find who there are and where they fit. I’ve been told there is a high incompletion rate. And sadly, studies show that there is a high incidence of anxiety disorders and depression in graduate school. There was even two highly publicized suicides and undoubtedly other suicides that didn’t make national news.

God didn’t send me to college to become a statistic. He’s made sure to send me a lot of help. Today I’m thanking GOD for her all the time!!

I used to think of my thesis chair as the Yoda figure to my Luke Skywalker (OG Star Wars)… until today. Before emailing my draft I looked online for an image that would reflect what I was feeling in that moment. I saw a bunch of different images of Yoda that I could’ve used, but I wanted something that resonated with me. Then I saw this picture:

My final words to her in the email:

I just found an image that reflects how I feel.
E.T. was a sojourner just trying to get home.
Yoda is helping him. Thank you for being my Yoda.
In 1 Peter 2:11 we’re told that we are “sojourners and pilgrims.”
It also gets translated as “aliens” and “exiles.”

This pretty much sums up how I feel.
This picture says 13,529 words.

Today is Day 30…. let the adventure continue.

Day 34: Memories and Milestones (Part IV)

From the Annals of Facebook: November 1, 2011

I am having abdominal surgery at 9:30… pray that there are no complications; that they find what they are looking for; and that this is the kick off to a whole new level of health and wellness.

Sitting on the rock wall reading that… I cried. All thoughts of editing those pages flew out the window. The song flowing through my earphones (Different by Micah Tyler) couldn’t have been more appropriate to that moment in time given what I was reading. I needed to respond to that old memory from the vantage point of now.

This is what I would’ve told Younger-Me as she faced that surgery:

From the Annals of Facebook: November 1, 2020

Sometimes God doesn’t answer our prayers the way we’d like. That surgery 9 years ago? The doctors found what was wrong. I needed to have a third surgery. I was SO hopeful that my physical pain would end with that surgery…even though the previous two hadn’t healed me. That last surgery was supposed to fix everything.

It did not.

The five years that followed were some of the worst years of my life. But God did not stop being God. He did not leave or forsake me… and PRAISE GOD that he held me close so that I would leave or forsake HIM.

Today… the message in church was on thankfulness in difficult times. I felt like the pastor pulled out every single scripture that I clung to over the years to keep my hope set on God whether or not physical healing ever came.

Nine years later… I still have chronic physical and mental health problems… yet I have not given up hope of healing.

I continue to thank God for the healing and restoration he’s already done in my life. God is God.

Period.

I keep praying that God would make me different. If I hadn’t struggled through all my mental and physical health challenges, I wouldn’t have the empathy or the compassion that I have for Keri… or anybody else with chronic pain and suffering. I might even walk right past him and keep on going as I’ve done for the past year.

I’m not saying I’m better than anybody else because I notice this one homeless guy’s feet. I’m just saying that I’m different from who I was nine years ago because of what God walked me by not answering my prayers the way I wanted and expected him to. I could’ve gotten mad and walked away from him. People do.

After posting on Facebook, I came home refreshed. I got in another few hours worth of work on my thesis proposal. Then I came here to my blog to post because in sharing my story of what I saw God do today, I find rest. I didn’t find this video until tonight as I typed this. It’s different from the version on Amazon music. The song is even more beautiful because of the message and visuals in the video…and is was the perfect way to end this day.

It couldn’t have ended better if I had planned it myself!

Today is Day 34… I’m not finished with my thesis proposal draft…but I am different.

Day 34: Memories and Milestones (Part III)

Last week, Old Me would’ve taken to her bed to rest. I would’ve woken up hours later, groggy and disoriented. Wisdom said that I needed to power through… but in my exhaustion, I didn’t know how. So I prayed.

And God was faithful.

He reminded me that while I needed to rest, sleep and rest are not necessarily the same thing. If I went to sleep, I wouldn’t wake up rested. I would waste another productive day. God reminded me that “productive” has another definition. In my Educational Psychology class we read an article about highly productive ed psych scholars/researchers.

From the article, I realized that I share many of the same traits that make these scholars so productive. I developed those traits during my 20 years as a teacher, but took it to the extreme by nearly working myself into an early grave. One way to redefine productive was to look at my available energy level and think of something else that I could realistically do.

I ended up redirecting my energies into reorganizing my workspace and outlining a plan that would allow me to work from home rather than trekking to the library lugging my backpack and my laptop bag like yesterday. As much as I like Hamilton Library, the bus ride there and back is not the best use of my time. The fact that I’m always freezing in there also hinders my productivity.

Organizing my environment cleared up clutter in my mind giving me more mental real estate to work with. It also increased my emotional bandwidth. Pretty soon, I was feeling grounded and able to work on that outline of a plan that I’d made the day before. Proverbs 19:21 comes to mind about the differences between my plans and God’s plans.

I was AMAZED at how well I was able to weave my thoughts together! My memory deficits didn’t even hinder me. I may not be a linear thinker, but I’m a methodically systematic note taker. My handwritten notes are in color coded spiral notebooks that I’ve named. Quirky, but I knew exactly where to look for some research notes that I’d written down months ago. Those notes would serve as perfect bridges to fill in the gaps in my second draft! I was able to accomplish things I’d told my thesis chair would have to wait until December!

Yet as productive as I was… eventually… my fatigue started to catch up with me. I started to get anxious. What if I took a break and lost my flow? What if I fell asleep? My draft is due by Friday, but my thesis chair wants it sooner rather than later. I couldn’t afford to take a break but in my fatigue, I was losing control of my emotions. I could feel the tears coming. So I prayed.

And before that mental storm could start brewing, God reminded me that rest is not the same as sleep. I’d been sitting in my chair for two church services. I’d gone grocery shopping (which is a huge energy drain for me). The encounter with Keri had taken a toll. I needed to take a break. I needed to rest.

I used to complain about how my former bosses used to have unrealistic expectations of me… but how true is that? Now that I set my own schedule, I have to be honest that I have a tendency to set unrealistic expectations of myself. I push myself to a breaking point trying to prove that I’m just as capable as everybody else… when in reality, I have very real physical and mental limitations that say that I’m not. And that’s ok.

I ended up falling back on my new definition of “productive.” Working on my draft was causing my level of productivity to diminish. I needed to get out of my studio and get some air. Grabbing some of the pages I’d written I took the back street to a nearby church. I planned to sit on the rock wall and edit my pages. I didn’t plan on seeing a memory from nine years ago today that Facebook brought to my attention…

Today is Day 34… and God wanted me to remember something about him from my past in the context of today.

Day 34: Memories and Milestones (Part II)

Kaimuki Christian Church‘s first service is at 8:30am. I’ve always been an “alpha hour” church attender. In just about every church that I’ve ever attended, the early service tends to have fewer people willing to get up that early. KCC is different. There are a lot of kapuna in my church. I had the privilege of meeting one sweet woman who is close to 100 years old!

It would’ve been so easy to skip church as emotional as I was, but the thought didn’t even cross my mind. Online church makes attendance possible even when I’m emotionally fragile and seeking social distance. I was still thinking about Keri as I logged on to church this morning.

After all my research into Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) and Stressful Life Experiences (SLEs)… I wondered what had happened in Keri’s story to land him on that street corner. Who had hurt him? What had gone wrong in his past? Nobody chooses that kind of life. Maybe people make some bad choices that help them get there, but nobody chooses to have flies nesting in their extremities.

My church sends out message notes mid-week. I knew Pastor Marie’s message in church today was going to be on gratitude. What did Keri have to be thankful for? Before church started, a thought occurred to me. I wasn’t crying for Keri because I was inconsolable. My old fear of ending up homeless was not fueling my tears. I was crying because Jesus would cry for Keri. Jesus would have compassion on Keri.

El Roi, the God Who Sees me… also sees Keri. God caused me to see Keri so that I could show him the love of Jesus even if I never say a word about Jesus to him. Given my past, I have a hard time playing the role of evangelist. What am I going to tell people: Become a Christian so your life can be a train wreck like mine?

Pastor Marie’s message made me cry. When they upload it to YouTube, I’ll post it. I’m also going to have to watch it mid-week because I can’t remember a thing about it right now. I do, however, remember feeling safe enough to engage in the chat.

Pre-COVID I wouldn’t have been functional enough after that experience to even go to church. All the sights, sounds, and people on top of such an emotionally charged event would’ve put me on overstimulated overload. SO I am thankful for online church because it allows me to engage with the body of Christ no matter what state my emotional and mental health are in.

Pastor Marie’s message was heartfelt. Here is a woman who has experienced loss, yet still lifts praises and a grateful heart to God as an offering. With every relevant point that Pastor Marie made, I posted a response in the chat. As I posted I cried. I needed to cry.

Her message also confirmed what I already knew.

God hadn’t forgotten me over the years… and he hasn’t forgotten Keri. If we are to be the hands and feet of Jesus in a hurting world, I choose to be the hands that feed Keri. As neurotic as I am about physical illness, I am not cut from the same cloth as Father Damien or Mother Theresa. I am not going to offer to wash his feet or cut his toenails. I have absolutely no medical training.

As much as I might want to do something about his feet… I know my mission here at UH is to finish my thesis about mental illness. My help for Keri’s feet will come through prayer. Please pray that somebody helps him. I’m also praying for his salvation, but I’m never going to tell him that he needs Jesus or that Jesus will change his life.

I know from my own experience that God might not give physical healing. The good news about the gospel of Jesus is not that he will give you everything you ask for in prayer. The good news is that he will be with you even if the healing doesn’t come. Pastor Marie talked about that.

After church at KCC… I didn’t have any brain pellets to work on my thesis. I’d already told my Ohana group that I wasn’t coming today. I had planned to attend the service at Wellspring Covenant Church before going to the library. Despite my heightened emotional state, I knew I needed to stick with my original plan believing that when it was time for me to work on my thesis, God would give me the words.

I did not count on Pastor Cheryl’s message. She talked about the woman in scripture who bled for 12 years (Luke 9:18-22)… and shared from her own story about waiting on God through seasons of chronic suffering. Again, I cried. Again, when that message is uploaded, I’ll post it here. By the time church was over, I was exhausted. I was angry and disappointed that once again, my uncontrollable emotions has sabotaged me. There was no way I was going to be able to string two thoughts together on my thesis proposal. It’s due this week! What was I going to do??? Clearly… God and I needed to talk about my plans.

Today was Day 34… and nothing was going the way I’d planned.

Day 34: Memories and Milestones (Part I)

This morning before church I decided to go to the market because my plan was to work on my thesis proposal. When I came home from Hamilton yesterday I was starving. I felt like that guy in the bible who sold his birthright for a bowl of stew (Genesis 25:19-34). I was dismayed to find that my cupboard was a bit on the bare side, but thankfully was able to pull together a filling, if uninspired meal.

Ultimate Carnivore that I am, I set out to the market this morning at 6:47 am because my blood sugar starts to do some unsavory things when I don’t get any meat. Wisdom said to go shopping before church, so I could focus on my writing without interruption from a growling stomach.

I shop early to avoid people. I always have. Crowded grocery stores have a way of triggering all kinds of emotions in me that are hard to control, so I go when the people aren’t there. I timed it to arrive at 7am just as the “Kapuna Hours,” or senior hours were done.

Here in Hawaii, we have a large senior citizen population. COVID19 has created a new shopping normal. Many of the local grocery stores have set aside special hours when seniors and other at risk folks can shop without all the crowds. Despite my health issues and graying hair, I don’t count myself as a kapuna, otherwise I would’ve been at the market at 6am.

Keri was sitting in his usual spot as I passed.

This time, I didn’t shamefully bow my head and shuffle by trying not to see him. I greeted him by name asking if he wanted anything. When he asked if I’d get him McDonald’s I had to tell him that I’m on SNAP (food stamps) and my EBT card wouldn’t work at McDonald’s. I offered to buy him a sandwich but again, he looked embarrassed. He only asked for a small bottle of water. I told him I’d get his water and if I saw anything else that I thought he might like I’d get it.

As I neared the grocery store, I thought about his request. Buying him healthy food had crossed my mind. The last time I got him a healthy sandwich and fruit, but from his response, I didn’t think the sandwich scored many brownie points with him. An author (I can’t remember who) wrote about needing to get “greasy hugs” from McDonald’s as he struggled with weight and emotional eating. I think Keri wanted one of those hugs.

There is something emotionally comforting about a hot meal loaded with salt and fat. I don’t think Keri disliked the sandwich. I’m fairly sure he ate it, but there is a lot to be said for having a hot meal. For slightly more money than a Mcbreakfast, I bought him a hot bento breakfast with egg, spam, and sausage. That kind of stuff is staple here in Hawaii. It’s also got enough sodium in it to clog every artery in his body, but it felt like the thing to buy.

When I approached him, I put the plastic bag containing his breakfast, the water, and a banana about six feet away from him. And that’s when I saw his feet. I’ve blogged quit a bit over the years about some of my adventures in foot care. No, I don’t have a foot fetish (anymore). There is, however, a reason why feet are still really important to me. The short version: both my mother and one of my older sisters had their legs amputated as a result of diabetic neuropathy. Because of my many feet problems, I’ve always been afraid of losing my one or both of my feet.

When I got a closer look at his feet and his legs… I almost cried. There were flies buzzing around all his open wounds. His toenails were thick and discolored. At least one of them was the width and length of my thumb! I had a really hard time composing myself. He thanked me for the food and I rushed away— trying not to cry. There was a man standing several feet away who greeted me. I mumbled hello and kept it together until I passed him.

Then I just started crying.

There I was carting home a bunch of food in my backpack while Keri was making due with what I’d given him in that plastic produce bag. As I neared my house, I paused. I have been complaining so much about my landlady and the other tenants. Keri would probably be more than happy to live in my room. By the time I shut my door and put my backpack down, I was beside myself…

As upset as I was, it didn’t bode well for me getting any work done on my thesis proposal. Today was Day 34… and this was how it started. It was not going according to my plan