It’s Surgical

“It’s psychosomatic.  You’ll need a lobotomy.  I’ll get a saw.”  –Calvin and Hobbes

I’ve told several people over the last few days that I feel like God is doing open heart surgery on me.  Only it seems like open heart surgery would be quicker–just a few hours in a sterile OR instead of another cut occurring every few days in the midst of the messiness of life.  The physical wouldn’t be easy.  I know this.  But these things on the spiritual and emotional level certainly seem at least almost as excruciating.

I’m dealing with things that I have preferred to shove down deep for years.  I’m learning new more healthy ways to approach my feelings and my relationships, but the doing of that is hard.  Old habits die hard.  New habits form slowly.

And I’m discovering new hurts, and old hurts that go down so much deeper than I ever expected.

It all sounds very dramatic, and I suppose on some levels it is.  But I also think it’s just my thing right now.  It’s just me.  It’s this season.  It leaves life feeling strange because while things are going very well right now in general, the work that is going on beneath the surface makes me feel like a wreck all the time.  It feels much different than the foggy, vague, but undeniable badness of depression.  It feels like purposeful rawness and pain and feeling.  But it’s hard and exhausting.

Husband and I, together, are learning more about our relationship as we discover things about ourselves that we haven’t been able or willing to face before and this leads into more raw territory.  The fruit of this, I pray will be a connectedness that I’ve longed for, and a new depth to our relationship. 

As I embark on, what may be, a welcomed season of teariness–welcomed because the tears have been stashed away for far too long–I am noticing that when I feel my feelings, when I let the build up and release of them to run the full course, I am able to be so much more present to my family.  Joy seems less effortless.  My spirit feels more free.  It’s counter-intuitive to me.  But it’s welcome.  And I’m learning.

So I’m good…  But I’m tender.  I’m healing, but the healing is only coming out of being broken in new ways, and in re-opening wounds that have long since hardened into scar tissue.


Forward Movement

When my summer ran away with me, so did my momentum for working the PPD problem in military communities.  Then last week, I had my first conference call as a PSI Coordinator for military families (how cool is that?!).  That lit a fire under me, and I’ve spent the week beginning to work the issue through–calling folks to find out what resources are out there, and hatching little plans in my head to increase awareness of the issue.

I’m starting at home, because that just makes sense, and things are starting to happen.  I’m hoping that eventually, I’ll be able to present some material to the powers that be, and to people who are in a position to help Mom’s dealing with PPMDs.  I’ll have a meeting this week with a social worker on base to talk about setting up a support group.  Things are going to happen.  My awareness and advocacy buttons are all pushed, and I’m ready to yell loud…   Actually, I think I’m channeling Mom.  😉

It’s exciting.  And for the first time since I stopped teaching, I feel  purposeful and fulfilled and like I’m doing more than spinning my wheels. 

I love it.


“Your very being at this moment is the fruit of God’s delight.  And your life’s highest purpose and deepest joy is to experience and agree with that delight.”

–Gray Temple, The Molten Soul

My friend Tim sent me this book a while ago.  I’ve wanted to read it for a while, but it uses really big words and when I’m in Mommy burn-out mode, I need brain candy.  He reminded me of the book in a recent comment, though, and so I got it out and I’m absolutely soaking it up.  This quote  is something that I desperately want to learn to believe, but something that I very rarely, if ever, live.  This quote knocked me flat (so yes, Tim…  This book is GOOD medicine right now, thank you SO VERY MUCH).

So what do you think it looks like to experience and agree with God’s delight?


I am craving comfort…

Warm fire place, over-sized sweater, snuggly blanket.

Macaroni and cheese, gingersnaps, chocolate, grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Hot cocoa, Hot apple cider. 

I’m doing all of my not-so-good for me comfort-seeking behaviours.  Eat something, check email, find something warm to drink, watch a comfort movie, eat something, eat something else, lather, rinse, repeat.

So what I keep asking myself is….  What is going on? 

I feel this deep and almost palpable tenderness at my center, and I keep throwing all of these things at it to no avail. 

Of course.  Because all of these things are just attempts to cover it.  I know that.

So I’m trying to see what the spirit wills and hoping for counsel and comfort.