Hiding No More

Currently I am sitting in my closet looking out into my horribly disorganized room which is just a reminder of the thousand things I need to be doing.  I should be studying for my impending Theology exam tomorrow, putting away my laundry, spending much needed one on one time with God or one of the other things on my endless list.

Instead I am hiding.

Hiding in my closet, because of the strong and unavoidable feeling of being over whelmed.  I have always had anxiety, but in the last three years my anxiety has increased over smaller things.  I struggle with strong feelings of being inadequate no matter how hard I try so as of late I have in a way given up.  I have convinced myself that it doesn't matter if I do my best it still won't be good enough.  These feelings stem from an abusive relationship that no matter how many nice things or affirming things I hear I still default to the terrible things I was told and made to believe about myself.

I keep myself busy with friends, work, mindless social media, and anything I can come up with to busy myself so I don't have to focus on the real issues I am struggling with.  I am by nature an extrovert, but when I constantly invent reasons to be around people I definitely know that I am hiding from being alone.  Tonight was the breaking point.  I finally had to come to terms with that I haven't been focusing on school like I should, because I was just so anxious and over whelmed.

This would be why I found my way into my closet.  In a way I am hiding from the world or maybe from myself too. I'm hiding from my paralyzing fear of failure, my absolute fear of rejection and being alone, the fear of disappointing my parents,  and the greatest fear of all that I am not good enough for God which is why for a while now I have been avoiding God as well.

What am I to glean from this time in hiding? From this short lived sabbatical in my closet?

I choose to take away that I need to understand that I am enough.  I am worthy.  And I need to keep reminding myself this every single day.  I have to decide that my best qualities and not so great quirks are me and that is perfectly acceptable.  I will never be great at drawing, putting away laundry, gracefulness, being quiet, frugality, or Microsoft Access, but that is perfectly fine.  I am really good at organizing things, being encouraging, singing, clothes, and being a sympathetic ear. My parents and my God both count me worthy so I should do the same.

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” 
-Louise Erdrich

Loving Immigrants as Ourselves.

With numerous headlines streaming online and in newspapers, legislation being proposed and judicial judgement being handed down immigration is a hot topic in American politics and public life. Hearing so much on the subject matter has caused me to reflect on my own ancestry.

Where do I come from? 

I know that I have Native American, Irish and possibly German ancestors.  All three of these people groups were severely persecuted in our great nation's history.  America has a bloody, shameful and shocking history of marginalization, abuse and fear of those who are "different" from the select group deemed "normal" or "acceptable".

This behavior is still prevalent today by handling immigration issues with intolerance and inhumanity.  I hear too many white southerners say "we don't need anyone coming to our country and changing our ways" or "their beliefs and culture just don't mesh with ours and of course ours is superior".  This belief system is ignorant and untrue.  It is also feed by fear and an unwillingness to see outside their comfort zone.

American culture is always shifting and changing.  When my Irish and German ancestors immigrated to the United States their culture was thought of as "weird" and "unamerican".  Now their cultural ideals, religious practices, and familial structures are seen as American as Thanksgiving dinner.  We forget our past and where our ancestors migrated from and how they were treated once they arrived.  Maybe because of the lack of understanding of those around them in their new country did my ancestors choose to forget their customs and identity.  Maybe they choose to adapt to "American" culture in order to fit in and be included.  This would explain why I have no lingering customs from these people groups.  My family plays a guessing game of where we originated from, because the lineage was lost in the quest to be accepted.

In light of the situation in our country at hand it is urgent that we treat immigrants with kindness, grace and understanding.  We need to view their culture with an openness rather than being defensive and closed minded.  We need to treat them as Jesus treated those who were not from his culture which he exemplified in his interaction with the woman at the well. Is this always easy? No. Is it acceptable to ignore injustice and turn a blind eye to it? The answer is no yet again.  We have to move past our feelings of insecurity, being uncomfortable and insuring that things always stay the same.

 "For God so loved the world.." maybe we should try that too.

Just going to be me.

I have been silent from my blog since December it would seem.  For a while it was just a nice breather from writing something else since all I do is write in seminary it seems, but then it turned into me not knowing exactly what to say.  I have so many things on my mind lately that I have been overwhelmed to say any of them.  I have felt very melancholy as of late.  During this melancholy I have been sitting back and resting in the way I feel. Trying to be quiet in order to make sense of it maybe.  I have a great life.  I am in school studying the subject I feel very passionate and called to.  I have great friends here in Atlanta, Arkansas and scattered across the states.  My family is supportive and loving in ways that I can't even begin to appreciate. I think a lot of my unrest comes from expectations.  

When visiting home for Spring Break I was asked by literally almost every person I came into contact with if I had a boyfriend.  No matter that I had just been telling this person the great things God has been doing in my life, how great seminary was going, and the exciting plans for the future I have with the answer of "no I don't have a boyfriend" all of the great things I have going for me just seem to vanish and disappear into thin air.  I mean come on people.  Can't we get a little more original than to ALWAYS lead back to this question.  I mean maybe if more people were more happy in their own relationships they wouldn't feel the need to live vicariously through mine. Anyways this lack of commitment to some man that they haven't met and maybe would never meet was suddenly so much more important and crucial to who I am than any thing I have accomplished or wish to accomplish.  

This is infuriating to me.  

The flip side to this is that in the "enlightened" crowd of acquaintances I have met I find the opposite.  There is a rebellion to any gender role stereotype.  Any woman who actually likes to cook, pick out pillows at Ikea (one of my personal favorite things to do) or God forbid know how to sew is a failure to the feminist cause and should be shunned.  Can't I be me and be a feminist? Isn't it okay if I want to stay at home and be a mom one day? Why can't I like vacuuming?? (which I actually enjoy so don't hate) Shouldn't my choices be mine and be accepted? The first crowd who defines me as less of a person without a significant other is just as alienating as the second crowd who demands unrealistic and just as alienating expectations.  Just to be clear I love to clean, I am decent at cooking, I can change a tire, I love sports, I cannot sew, I can crochet, I love reading commentaries, I love/hate politics, I love bows and glitter, I love dirt and mud, I love the outdoors, and I love a good theological discussion.  Are some of my quirks and qualities stereotypical and some blatantly not? Yes. Do I care? Not anymore.  I'm just me. A woman who has been called to ministry trying to find my way in life while lugging along the expectations of others and trying to ditch those and be left carrying what I expect from myself.