Inside the Surf

After two days in bed, too sick to shower, change clothes, or even brush my hair, I was up early this morning and immensely relieved to have finally accomplished all of those things successfully.  It feels great to be clean and ambulatory again.  Yesterday, even sitting up made me pretty dizzy a few times.  I have to remind myself, as usual, to not work myself into a fever from pushing myself too hard.

It's so quiet here with the kids all finally back at school.  I love the peace and tranquility, although they were very sweet over this long weekend.  They're genuinely wonderful children, and their love for me is deep.

Have you ever been playing in the ocean and been knocked under by a wave?  As it crashes and roars and bubbles around you, your whole body is battered while it tumbles around wildly in the swirling currents. (Wear a well-fitting swimsuit!)  Within a fraction of a second, you have utterly no clue which direction the sun is in and which direction the deep sea is in, nor where the sand right beneath you is.  It's kind of frightening, since your ability to inhale ever again relies entirely on your ability to figure out where the air is. 

Sometimes life does that to you.  You aren't exactly suffocating (yet), but you're entirely disoriented and you aren't sure whether to laugh or panic.  Perhaps you've simply been bombarded with far too many happenings, which can make you feel like a piece of flotsam in a pounding surf.  It takes a lot of strength to stand your ground, an act that is literally impossible until you can determine where the ground is.  Sometimes, you get it right and rise up, laughing and tossing your dripping hair back.  Sometimes, you are too dizzy to get anything right, and the waves wash you up on the beach like seaweed, leaving you there to shiver in the cold breeze as the earth spins far too quickly.  Sometimes, very occasionally, you can't get out until someone jumps in and rescues you.  

I guess I'm still underwater.  In some of my dreams, I can breathe down there (I've read and adored too much Percy Jackson), so let's just hope that's the case.  I'm not a strong swimmer in real life, and I can only hold my breath for a terribly short amount of time.  Blame it on Central Valley Asthma, which nearly everyone who has lived here as long as I have is blessed with.  At any rate, I think the sun is shining somewhere above the confusion, and the water is sparkling and beautiful, despite my complete inability to figure out where, precisely, I am.  Too much is going on.

Please, Father in Heaven, grant me strength and breath and clarity.  Because I'm dizzy under here.

Themes and Demons

When a new year arises, many people start talking about changes, goals, and resolutions. Most of it annoys me. Such matters should be dictated by individual situations, rather than the calendar. I roll my eyes. I mean, sure, it's truly positive that people want to improve their lives! But the sudden New-Years-driven obsession feels more like bandwagon mentality than actual wisdom to me. 

That being said, a year ago, someone I know to be anything but shallow or false introduced me to an idea I had never heard of before. Instead of setting unattainable goals, which would be abandoned before February, he chooses a theme for the year. A buzz word that represents what the coming year will mean, which can be focused on easily throughout. So simple. So profound.  That word can then house as many subcategories and related goals as needed, which can change and progress as the needs themselves do. 

It's brilliant. 

So I gave it a shot. Last year began for me with horrific anxiety, unspeakable heartache, and many other lovelies that accompany such treasures. So finding a theme for 2013 was a matter of prayer and contemplation. 

Two words came to me, to be used hand-in-hand: VALOR and VICTORY. Wow, that's kind of pushing things, isn't it? I thought.  I was far from victorious, and valor was a distant dream. But it felt like my best chance for survival, so I latched on, nursing as an infant, taking in all I could derive from these ideals. I may have started out far from secure in valor or victory, but I wanted to grow into them. Time moves forward anyhow, so we may as well move in the right direction as it carries us along. 

Let me repeat: I didn't feel valorous, and victory was a bit of a joke. By the start of that year, I had progressed from a cowering, simpering ball of mess into someone who could actually stand up in public and go places, but I was still a pretty big basket case. So valor was a desperate hope. 

It worked. I did it. Although still not anywhere near perfected, I'm braver than I've ever been before. I can stand taller, walk more bravely, and hold my head up, knowing that the demons which plague me are pathetic liars whose evil will someday crumble and die into nothingness. I am a warrior. 

Don't laugh. Doesn't the world need more people who have the courage to stand out, even when they desperately want to blend in? More people whose banners are love and compassion, whose swords are sharp against despair and hopelessness? More people who are willing to risk their safety for the sake of another's well-being? More people who swallow the huge lump of terror in their throats and go forward in doing what they feel is righteous, true, and uplifting to others?

I thought so. You may not know my story. You may not have any idea of the mucky swamps and dark dungeons I've been in and the lions I've had to spiritually fight, or the demons of hell which yet plague me, and the twisted horrors they have spoken. Of the measures they took to destroy me. Or maybe you do. 

Each of us needs light, hope, courage, love, virtue, and a hand to hold when we're scared or feeling weak. We may not be able to conquer all of our darkness right away, but we'll keep forging ahead, seeking that light and shining as best we can. 

2014. A new year requires a new theme. This one came to me as soon as I reached my mind out in prayer to seek its identity: TRIUMPH. It was soon joined by its partner, DAYBREAK. I'll leave it to you to determine how triumph is any different from victory. That's just what came to me, as clearly as though someone whispered it into my ear. 

Only time will tell how daybreak will finally shatter the heavy chains of a seemingly endless night, or how I will triumph over that which I must fight against in order to survive. But I'll get there. 

Wanna come?