Five Minute Friday: Try

Along the Way @ mlsgregg.com

Gentle Reader,

I had hoped this post would be funny, or at least snarky, because that’s the kind of mood I’m in, but it took an introspective turn. Such is the nature of writing I suppose. The words express something beyond the surface.

Kate asks us to: try.

Go.

If at first you don’t succeed, throw something.

That’s always been my motto.

When I was five and my parents were trying to teach me how to tie my shoes, they had this little wood block threaded through with laces. Over and over again they would show me how to knot and loop and twist. Over and over again, I would fail. It wasn’t until my mom told me that I’d always have to live close her to so that she could come over and tie my shoes every morning and I flew into a rage that I accomplished the awful task. (Funnily enough, I live just around the corner from my parents).

A lot of things come easy to me. The stuff that doesn’t makes me angry. If I can’t catch on to a concept quickly, I usually abandon it. (Hence my family referring to me as “barely domesticated”).

I’m not much of a try-er.

Gliding ever-more deeply into the third decade of life, I wonder: What have I missed?

Pride and fear lock arms and keep me hemmed into a comfortable space. Oh, it’s wide. The view is nice. But there’s a lot out there, beyond the fence, that I’ve never experienced. Like ice skating. Who gets to be in her 30s without having ice skated? Yeah, yeah, those pesky health problems play a part, too. But still. There’s a lot I keep myself back from. So many…pieces, longings, kept shut tight.

Maybe it’s time to try.

Stop.

My journey to faith. (15)

The Woman from 2009

Add a little bit of body text

Gentle Reader,

It’s uncomfortable, sticking that picture of myself in this post.

But there’s a reason.

The other night Chris decided that he would take our camera, which we never use (hello, smartphones) to work. He needed to use it to take pictures of new employees at the hospital for their security badges. As he checked and cleared the SD cards, he came across this random photo.

From 2009.

The image of this woman upsets me. She hasn’t yet started to feel crappy all the time. She hasn’t yet been diagnosed with a chronic illness. Her skin is smoother. Her smile brighter. Her eyebrows need some work. She hasn’t yet succumbed to anxiety so bad it sends her into a pit of depression and despair.

There is so much ahead of her.

I study myself in the mirror today. I see the perpetual dark circles under my eyes. I see the roundness in my face. Skin forever itchy and marked. My hand absently strokes the lumpy, bumpy swathe of abdomen, wrecked forever by surgery and scar tissue. Stupid liver. Stupid chronic fatigue.

I wish I looked like the woman in that picture. (I wish I could fit into her size 8 jeans).

It’s sad and strange.

No amount of caloric restriction will flatten my belly. No amount of make-up can fully cover the dark circles. Nor can sleep, even double-digit hours at a time. No matter how hard I try, I can’t will myself into more energy. I can’t stop the aching in my joints. I can’t predict the days when I’ll spend my time throwing up.

I long for a time machine.

To go back and be that woman again.

The longing has stayed with me for a week now, ever since I first saw that picture. Some part of my brain, the part that has bought into the lies that thinness and a frantic pace equal happiness, keeps trying to work out the equation for time-travel. Or at least a miracle drug to make my sad liver happy again. (No, organic kale is not the fix. Sorry). I keep straying back to, “If I could look like that again…” “If I could do it over…” “It would be better if…”

Another part of my brain, the part that has learned to listen for the arresting voice of the Holy Spirit, knows better.

Most of the time, I don’t actually care that I’m a size 12. (There, you know). I have a better relationship with food now. I never exercised back then. These days I get out and take walks and have even done a little weight lifting here at home recently. I can’t change the fact that my health problems have caused me to gain weight. I see and hear women who are obsessed with being “skinny” (though they often couch it in terms of “being healthy”). All they talk about is food – what they do eat, what they don’t eat, how they eat it. They feel superior to heavier women and then judge themselves if the scale moves up an ounce. They make me roll my eyes because it’s not worth it. There’s no point in attaching a sense of value or self to the numbers on a scale or the number on a label in a item of clothing.

I’d rather have a lumpy, blobby stomach than a tumor. That big ol’ scar is a badge of honor. A mark of battle..

I don’t want to go back to straightening my hair every day. It takes too much time and it never, ever lasts longer than an hour. I’d rather sleep.

Same goes for eye make-up. I used to wear it all the time. Now…who cares if I do or don’t put on mascara? Big whoop. I have other things to focus on.

I was going through a rough patch, friendship-wise, back then. Now, at 31 (in a week), I’m learning that friends come and go. Closeness waxes and wanes. Things change. People change. It can be painful, but ultimately it’s okay.

This woman held a lot of resentment toward her husband. Chris and I don’t have a perfect or easy marriage today, but it’s far, far better than it was.

I remain neurotic, but back then I was far less comfortable with myself. Back in that day, which was probably a Tuesday, I was usually far too afraid to share my opinions. I let people manipulate and steamroll me. This blog was a whole lot blander. Though I try to be wise in what I say and how I say it, I’m now much freer in sharing what I think. I’m also better at spotting the manipulating and the steamrolling.

In 2009 I barely had an inkling of what it meant to be close to the Lord. Hardship has brought me near to Him. It has pushed me to climb up into His lap, onto His shoulders. I thirst for His word. I ache to know Him more. My ear is tuned to the sound of His heartbeat. I want to love Him more, obey Him closely, sit and bask in His glory. This, I would not trade for anything.

In a surprising plot twist, I realize that the woman from 2009 longed to be the woman I am today.

Isn’t that odd? So often we look back on the past with the proverbial rose-colored glasses. Or we look off into the future. We forget to appreciate now. Today.

Perhaps, like me, you also entertain the “what if?” kind of thoughts. Perhaps you have longed to “go back.” Or judged yourself today because you aren’t as thin, as young, as busy, as influential, as wealthy, as whatever as you were then. Perhaps you shut your eyes tight and hope to plow through and into a brighter tomorrow, ignoring these 24 hours. Dear one, you are missing the blessing of right now. You are missing the good things that God is doing. You are blind to the joy and the peace and the love and the happiness that shower you as His beloved child, even in the middle of horrendous storms.

Step away from the then and back off from tomorrow. Don’t miss this moment.

This beautiful, wonderful moment.

I’m abandoning my work in the time-travel field. I’ll stay the “plus sized,” Medusa-haired, tired-eyed person I am. It’s better.

I’m better.

Because God is good. He loved me as I was – and loved me too much to let me stay there.

My journey to faith. (15)

Five Minute Friday: Ten

Along the Way @ mlsgregg.com

Gentle Reader,

No makeup. Stretchy pants. Comfy couch.

It’s the #fmfparty.

I can’t speak highly enough of this group of people. Most of us have never met in person, and yet there is genuine love. Real friendship. Laughter and tears, prayers and pondering. I shake my head even now thinking about the wonderful happenstance of it all.

The wonderful working of God.

I’m not sure what Kate was thinking with this prompt tonight. We write about: ten.

Go.

Ten Truths: Some That are Universal and Others That Should Be

* You are beloved by the Creator of the universe.

* When crabby, take a nap.

* Dogs are better than cats & Pepsi is better than Coke.

* Choose life. Get help.

* Leggings are not pants.

* Quality over quantity.

* Women – all women, all sizes, all shapes, all ages, all ethnicities – are beautiful.

* Cilantro tastes like soap.

* Writing soothes the soul.

* Jesus saves. Every time.

Bonus Eleventy!

In the comments, my friend pointed out that I forgot to include two very important things:

* “Meat should never be in the shape of a loaf and nothing edible should ever jiggle as much as jello does.”

Stop.

Coming back to edit (which I’m not supposed to do).

I decided to look and see what book of the Bible comes in at the 10th slot, and then go to the 10th verse of the 10th chapter. Doing so took me here:

“And the rest of the people he put under the command of Abishai his brother, that he might set them in battle array against the people of Ammon.” – 2 Samuel 10:10 (NKJV)

This is quite interesting, for the context here is an Israelite battle against the Ammonites and Syrians. A battle that occurred at the apex of King David’s reign. Following this are Bathsheba, Tamar’s desolation and “Absalom, my son, my son.” Years of sin and strife and struggle.

David forgot, for a time, to stay engaged in the battle.

Something to ponder.

My journey to faith. (15)