When What You Thought Isn’t What You Think Now

It’s a subject line/blog title that hints at a story, yes? A tale you’ll read and learn about from a perspective not your own.

How first thoughts, first impressions are NOT wrong and how your thoughts can override your senses but, also, how your senses can override your thoughts.

Between where you were and where you are now, all kinds of microstories are writing themselves leave you, the reader, and me, the writer, waiting to see what happens on the next page.

And maybe from the reading of the thing, you’ll come away with ideas of your own and awarenesses you can apply across your own life.

Then again, sometimes the best stories are those that are the shortest.

More Tomorrow

At least that’s what I think.

More answers, more direction, more vision, more certainty.

Tomorrow.

We Change

All of the time we are coming together and falling apart. It’s a line, “coming together and falling apart“, I heard somewhere (although maybe not in that exact way) and it’s always stuck with me.

• Looking at an Instagram feed of someone you used to know.
• Reading status updates from friends and/or family on Facebook.
• Going through old journal entries.
• Thinking about who you were and who you are now.

What is the steady and what is the constant (and if it’s not to your liking, how much of it can be changed, especially when compared to who you’ve been and what you’ve done in the memories of others)?

How does the fluidity form the ways you come together and fall apart?

I’m at that place, that point in life where it seems all that I see is a looking back. A bubbling up of reminders and things I had no idea I had forgotten and now, in the remembering of it, leave me appalled, sad, condemned, and despondent (especially when thinking about how they apply to the now and the next).

I’m on the other side, or getting really close to it; the next milestone my birthday will mark. And most of what flows out of me when thinking what “50” will be is a blank – or a slow asphyxiation – because of all the ways I came together when I was not 50 and all the ways those ways must, have to be, really freaking need to be, undone.

 

D.B.

“But to deviate from the truth for the sake of some prospect of hope of our own can never be wise, however slight that deviation may be.

It is not our judgement of the situation which can show us what is wise, but only the truth of the Word of God.

Here alone lies the promise of God’s faithfulness and help.

It will always be true that the wisest course for the disciple is always to abide solely by the Word of God in all simplicity.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Is It Enough?

I wonder sometimes if who I am, just as I am, is “enough”. In a world where Western values have taught me my pedigree is as important as my physical appearance, I feel like I do anything but measure up.

In Sweden, though, where things aren’t looked at in the same way, it feels like I’m too much.

And in-between, there are all the layers underneath first impressions, personal stories, and the histories that have made us who we tell others we are.

When I catch myself rejecting someone else – in terms of personal relationship potential – I immediately then apply the same standards to myself.

That’s when I realize how far from the ideal I probably am to others, too.

Which, for a gal who has always struggled with the acceptance of “subprime”, the idea of 1) being someone that someone else has “settled” for or 2) settling for something hard for me to accept in another isn’t all that great.

The difference between acceptance and settling is where it all lies, don’t you think?

 

 

Wants

Do you have a list of things you’ve wanted your whole life but never been able to have?

If you’re a Christian, how do you reconcile the “desires of your heart” against the realities of your world when said desires don’t manifest tangible outcomes?

If you’re not a Christian, what do you do about the things you want as they compare to the things you do or don’t have?

Have you ever found yourself stuck – talking to Christians again – between “faith” and “hope deferred” (which is said to make a “heart sick”)?

At what point did you realize that even if your heart was right and what you wanted was simply His will for you and the living of the life God gave you, the things you desired were things denied?

And for the rest of you, is there ever a point where what you thought you wanted and what you did to get it turned out to be a terrible choice?

Or, are there some here who have found a way to not want at all and can, therefore, skip this post because they know there’s nothing to be found for them here?

10 Days

That’s how long it took for me to realize and start asking for help. And like the GOOD, good God He is, He answered in ways I was able to hear.

And tonight, I bowed down again, in wonder and awe and more than a little humbled/undone awe.

The trick now?

To NEVER let ten days go by again. Ever.

Deep State

From a life that was so intertwined with God, the real world felt lacking …

to a new place where deep drive and focus and mission and vision want precedence …

that has very little to do with deep/daily dialogue and prayer …

the states I’ve been in and the state I’m seeking lacks the daily depth of dialogue I’m used to.

Discerning the differences to check for faults and potential failures between these two states requires deep work.

 

 

Kimmy Schmidt

Watching The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix (Yes, I’m not current with my American sitcoms), I realized she and I are not so different in some pretty spectacular ways (I need to throw in a bit of Titus, here, too, because I could see the similarities).

Which, as season two introduced the need for counseling to deal with past trauma, had me binge-watching the last two nights to see what they’d figure out Kimmy needed to do.

Which, you’d think would be a tad off the mark – relying on a TV show to help you deal with your own issues. But, they say God works in mysterious ways, so who knows if this is His way of helping me go deeper with stuff that’s been coming up – again?

Hidden Fears

Last night I bought some “ice cream” from the local gas station/quick mart. I was/am still pretty limited in my mobility and am wary about exerting myself more than I should right now.

I tell you this because it will explain why I tried to “grocery shop” at a convenience store. The small space I had to navigate was something manageable while the larger store, just down the road, wasn’t.

Along with my basket of carbs (chips, french fries, chips), I saw some protein frozen desert stuff that I thought I’d give a try.

Putting the pint into the shopping basket made me feel less like a failure for succumbing to the lure of processed “food” to fill my belly (justification/diversion, much? 😉 )

Anyhoo, last night, after a lovely lunch and dinner of chips and dip (if I made it with Greek yogurt, does that count as calcium and protein and cancel out the hydrogenated oil and salt???), I thought I’d try some vanilla “ice cream”.

As I reached into the bag the cashier had put the frozen item in and that I had stashed inside my freezer, I noticed the “ice cream” kind of slid around a bit in the container. I had never had this experience with ice cream before but I thought I would go ahead and open the plastic seal and see what there was to see.

And this is where today’s post about hidden fears comes into play.

The “ice cream” had freezer burn so badly it was in no way edible. At all.

Disappointment filled me but not for the reason you would think. No, I had this sudden lump/tightness in my throat because I wanted to be able to take it back to the convenience store and show them/get a refund of my money.

That scared me.

I got panicky just thinking about it. I tried to recall where I had put the receipt. I started running through scenarios and doing one-woman role plays with me and whoever happened to be behind the counter should I suck up the courage and request my $3.00 back.

Which is, of course, just slightly bordering the “ridiculous” line of things, don’t you think?

So, I watched myself reacting, put the “ice cream” back in the freezer and numbed myself with a new series on Netflix for the rest of the night/early morning.

When I woke up this morning I felt foggy and heavy and bad and guilty (chips/bad food eating binge). I also remembered the “ice cream” and again, panic and fear about returning it versus just taking the loss and accepting the results without speaking up or asking for better (HUGE LIFE LESSON HERE) climbed their way through my numb brain.

About a month earlier, this same fear had presented itself along similar lines. I had bought a carton of nectarines from another local shop and when I tried to eat one the next day, they had started to mold.

Two days later, after I had already separated the two or three moldy ones from the rest, I bit into what I thought was an almost “ripe” one and found a pit covered in mold. Splitting open the remaining nectarines showed me the same thing. All of the ten or so pieces of fruit that had been in the glass fruit bowl on my kitchen half-wall/shelf, were completely rotten inside.

The exact same feelings I had about the “ice cream” where what I had then and I remember realizing how out of proportion they were (my internal dialogue, feelings, physical responses, etc.) to the situation at hand. 

I tried to picture other people I know who I could imagine having ZERO PROBLEM thinking ANYTHING about returning something “defective” or “damaged” and getting their money back.

I could see Beth easily chatting with the cashier at a store and pointing out the problem while waiting for her refund.

I could see Gwen thinking this was a great opportunity for the business/store to get a “heads up” about something and ward off any further issues with other customers.

These two women friends of mine, as they popped into my head, were acting (all imaginarily, of course) in my mind, like perfectly normal people dealing with a perfectly normal – if inconvenient or disappointing – problem like it was no big deal (again, their “behavior” all conjecture in my mind based off of what I knew/know about them).

So, why was I getting scared?

Why did the nectarines (which I did return and receive a refund for with absolutely no problem from the very kind Swedish store manager) and now the “ice cream” trigger me in such a way as to evoke a fear response?????

I’m thinking it’s a deep, deep wound, you guys. I’m sensing an area here so layered and hidden and surrounding stuff that connects to other triggering events. And even that, the awareness, can bring shortened breaths and clenched teeth.

And tears beginning to form in my sad, sad eyes.

*UPDATE: The minute I hit “publish” I gathered the “ice cream”, the receipt and my wallet and drove to the quick mart. A different person than the one who had helped me yesterday was there but I knew her and when she asked if she could help me, I gathered my courage and opened the bag.

Long story short, both she and the other woman who was there, were shocked and made the “usch!” sound, which, in Sweden means something like, “Eww/ugh! That’s not good!”. And then the first woman immediately THANKED me for bringing the “ice cream” back while the second woman went to see if there was something wrong with their freezer and tho check the rest of the pints on the shelf.

I gave my receipt and received $5.87 (not $3.00 like I had thought it had cost) back in cash.

Easy peasy.

I mentioned I had been really stressed about even doing this and the first woman waved me off like it was nothing.

NOTHING.

It really was NOTHING. 

And, yet, it was everything.

Thank You, Father.