Posted by Rebecca
Fri, 02 Nov 2007 13:00:00 GMT
A long time ago, in another life when I was someone else, I had a friend. Yes, a friend. Hard to believe it, I know.
Anyway, we were a lot alike, or so it seemed. She and I were raised in the same kind of church. We both loved to write, and we were both working on Astronomy degrees at the university. We even lived in the same apartment building, rode the same bus, etc. We both had boyfriends at the time, too.
We always had fun together, and we hung out a lot. She was better at math than I was, and I was depressed and couldn’t get out of bed and go to class most days. So I copied her math homework, bombed all the exams, and got bad grades. She didn’t even get mad at me until the end of the semester.
She was really into her boyfriend. She had given up her virginity to him and was madly in love with him. By madly in love with him I mean she was blind to all his gross faults (and they were gross…he was a sex addict) and thought he hung the moon.
They broke up once but were still living together. I took that opportunity to tell her that she could do better, that she deserved better, that he needed serious help and that she got out at a good time. I was trying to be a good friend, and in my mind, a good friend always tells the truth, even if it’s hard for the other person to hear.
A week later they were back together. A few months later they got engaged. At some point, something happened and my friendship with her ended…it probably had to do with my copying her homework. Anyway they got married. Six years ago they got married. She fell out of my mind with the passing time until I nearly forgot she existed.
“Hindsight is 20-20,” she said yesterday when she showed up in my office to speak to a professor. I hadn’t seen her in six years and we both did double-takes when we saw each other. We fell easily into conversation, as if the friendship had never ended. My heart was overloaded with reservations, and still is, but I was struck by how easy it was to talk to her, and how much I still cared for her in my heart. I guess some love never really goes away, even if you forget about it for awhile.
Anyway, she’s divorced now. His addiction was too much for her. It controlled him to the point that she lost the freedom she should have had with him in marriage.
“Hindsight is 20-20,” she said.
“I’m 28 and I feel old,” she said. I know why she feels old. She’s already lived a lifetime of pain and she hasn’t even hit thirty yet. It makes me sad. It makes me hurt for her.
It also makes me glad that I didn’t go down the path she went down. I was presented with the same set of paths she was presented. Somehow, by the grace of God, I managed to choose a better path. A path with less unnecessary pain.
Geez, life is hard enough without the unnecessary pain.
I guess I’m writing this because it’s weird that she randomly walked back into my life yesterday. Except that I don’t think she randomly did. You can call it coincidence or whatever you want. I call it God.
I’m a big fan of praying for people from my past who I remember, or who God brings up before me. I know I need to start there with her.
We exchanged information so we could keep in touch, but I still have a load of reservations. I can’t handle another person leeching off me right now. I don’t have that kind of energy to give. But maybe with her I won’t have to. I dunno. I just know that God put her back in my mind for a reason. I know because he does that with me a lot. Sometimes I see the fruit of my prayers, and sometimes I don’t. Maybe obedience is doing what you’re lead to do even if you never see the point of it. So I’ll pray for her, as hard as I can as often as I remember.
Posted in Along the Way | Tags friends, pain, prayer, reunion | no comments
Posted by Rebecca
Mon, 29 Oct 2007 19:30:00 GMT
We are blind to things we do not wish to see, and deaf to things we do not wish to hear. Perhaps we are blind to ourselves and our flaws, or to the reality of the tragic world around us. Perhaps we are deaf to our friends and family, who try to tell us where we should grow, who try to tell us the truth.I know it is this way with people, because it has been this way with me.
I am twenty-six years old, and the most traumatic thing that has every happened to me is a car accident.
Forty years ago, my father was twenty-six years old. He was in Hoa Phu, a village in Vietnam. He was part of the Marine Corps combined action program which supported and organized villages in the northern I Corps are of South Vietnam.
Forty years ago, my father was twenty-six years old. He had seen friends die horrible deaths. He had ordered comrades into their final firefights. He wallowed in jungle muck, inhaled agent orange, delivered babies, killed at least boa constrictor with his M-16, and killed Charlie many times over.
I am twenty-six years old, and until last night, I always took all of this for granted. It was mythology. It was a story.
But when my mom found a copy of Fortune magazine from April 1967 which included an article about my father, who had a price placed on his head by the Viet Cong, something fell into place inside me. Last night, when my mom said “Hoa Phu” and for the first time I knew that my dad had lived in a real village in Vietnam, and that it was a real place, everything changed.
Scales fell from my eyes. Rocks fell out my ears. I could see, and I desperately wanted to hear.
For twenty-six years, I’ve taken his experiences in Vietnam for granted. For forty years, his Vietnam experiences have haunted him daily. He made decisions that resulted in death. The hardest decision I have to make is what restaurant to go to for dinner.
I used to say that my father was an idiot because I thought he was irresponsible. I used to say that my father had his head up his ass because he would never listen to any of us and because he ignored us. I use to say that my father was an asshole when he yelled at one of us. I cried into my pillow at night and called him a son of a bitch.
For twenty-six years, I didn’t give a damn about the dead faces that he can still see, or the dying screams that he can still hear, or the rattle and rumble of the rifles and mortar going off around him in his head every time someone lit a firecracker on the fourth of July.
Maybe I’ve been the one with my head up my ass. Maybe I’ve been the idiot, the irresponsible asshole, the son of a bitch. But no more. I’m ready to listen. I am ready for the stories. In fact, I want the stories.
I need the stories.
I need to get to know my father, while there is still time. I need to see him. I need to hear him. I need to know him.
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Posted by Rebecca
Tue, 18 Sep 2007 01:54:00 GMT
The next 6 months of my life will be…interesting.
This is because I’m facing a ridiculous amount of lifestyle changes.
First, I’m working on being disciplined in some areas of my life that really need it. It will be painful, there will be a schedule, and consequences, and I’ll hate it, but I have to put myself on this regimen because like I said, there are some things that really need to change.
The schedule, when I’ve finished tweaking it, will be pretty rigid, which will require a lot of sacrifices on my part, including time. I hope you all understand that I will not be very available. That means I don’t want you to call me every night of the week. I won’t answer. Don’t try.
My heart is going through some changes and I’m facing, as usual, some tough decisions in several areas of my life, and that’s always taxing and a little frightening. And to be honest with you, I’m on the verge of tears almost every day, just from being perpetually exhausted, stressed, worried, and sad.
So, for the next six months, I’ll be doing my best to hang in there. If all goes as I hope it will, I’ll actually end up more rested on the other side…discipline and resolution tend to yield that.
What I need from you on a regular basis? Love, mainly. Encouragement, and a lot of it. Prayer, as often as you manage to think of me. Hugs, definitely. Shoulders to cry on? Probably. Lots of support, understanding, and at times, a lot of space.
Thanks for hanging in there with me.
Posted in Along the Way | Tags life, overwhelmed | 1 comment
Posted by Rebecca
Thu, 23 Aug 2007 22:10:00 GMT
“Am I really supposed to be a writer? Can I actually say that I’m supposed to be a writer and take myself seriously? It seems so ridiculous.”
“If I show you that you are a writer, and that you were created to write, then yes you can.”
“That’s easy for you to say. But I’m down here trying to figure out how to do it all and I’m getting nothing.”
“You’re forgetting that this isn’t about you. It’s about me accomplishing my great work through you. You are the instrument. I create through you.”
“Right. I did forget about that part. Ok, well I’m gonna chew on that for awhile. I’ll get back to you after I’ve worn out this brain you gave me to use.”
“Works for me.”
“It’s me again. You know what I’m going to ask. I’m scared to ask it because everything around me tells me no, but somewhere in my heart I believe the answer is yes. Is it possible to depict the truth of Your character in a dark and violent, secular story?”
Silence.
And then in class that day we read “A Good Man is Hard to Find” by Flannery O’Connor. Beautiful.
“Ok, so the answer is yes. Thanks for letting me know that I’m not completely crazy, and that the stuff in my heart maybe actually does come from you and is worth paying attention to.”
“No sweat.”
And then I went back to work.
“So what you showed me the other day was really cool. But what about a novel? Can a person possibly write a novel that is considered to be meaningful secular literature but still reveal the truth of your character in it in such a way that it is encouraging, uplifting, gripping, and interesting?”
Silence.
Then I was bored one day and picked up a book of my shelf that I bought last year and never read. It had an interesting title so I gave it a try. I’m still reading it. It is called “A Prayer for Owen Meany” and it’s exactly what I asked Him about.
So now, I’m really paying attention.
Lately, I’m thinking about how I’ve got nothing. My head is empty. Just last night I was wondering where all the plaguing words ran off to. They’ve been gone awhile, as you can probably tell from this blog.
My biggest question lately has been unframed, until today at lunch when I was able to verbalize it to Marci and Caroline. “How exactly do you write a novel? How do you create and develop a compelling character?”
Today, while I was at work, I looked at my desk calendar and realized that it still was on the page from yesterday. It is a Vincent van Gogh calendar that my friend gave me for my birthday, and it’s one of those where each day has its own sheet that you tear off when the day is over. Each sheet has a picture on it.
This one was the one from today, which I saw as I tore off yesterday’s page.
I found this work, “Portrait of Armand Roulin,” strangely compelling. The eyes of this young boy drew me in and I found myself wondering who he really was and what his life really was like.
I decided it would be brilliant to make up a story and write a book about it. Excited over this idea, I even told Marci and Caroline about it at lunch today.
This afternoon, when I was trying to kill the last 15 minutes of work, I decided it would be wise to search for information on this painting using google. After all, if there really was some online bio of the portrait’s subject, it would be stupid of me to write a book about it.
My google search yielded this page which I bookmarked and put in an email to myself. I was bummed to learn that someone had already written the book, but excited to see that it was written by a New York Times Bestselling author. I didn’t know she existed prior to today, so the fact that I had the idea of creating the same story as she did excited me. Maybe my ideas aren’t so bad. I sent an email to Marci and Caroline to that effect.
Then I began to peruse the website further, and learned that the author had placed a wealth of information about writing on her site. I found stuff on there that certainly should help me focus on developing my skills. The author has been an English teacher for 30 years, so her material is not only well-written, but very instructive.
That’s right. He answered my question again.
I was thinking about it on the way home from work. Becky bought me the calendar a long time ago. Today I thought about how to develop a character and write a novel. Today the calendar had “The Portrait of Armand Roulin” on the page. Today I thought it would make a great story. Today I told my friends, and today I searched for info. via google.
But it’s not really about me. I didn’t actually come up with the idea for that story. He put that thought in my head so I would look it up online and find answers to my questions - a place to go to get started and begin figuring things out.
I am supposed to write, and I take myself seriously.
And, I’m really glad that I bookmarked that website and sent the link to myself. I have not successfully been able to come up with a search string to put into google that yields that page as a hit.
Posted in Along the Way | 1 comment
Posted by Rebecca
Thu, 09 Aug 2007 20:45:00 GMT
Ok, internet. I’ve finally decided to spill it and let you know what is going on in my life, and for several reasons.
One, I need to write this down and acknowledge it because I’m getting nowhere by keeping it all inside.
Two, maybe you have been through this before and have something useful to say about it.
Three, I get more readers when I write stuff from the heart. Having more readers makes me feel good, because then I feel like I actually am a good writer and effectively communicate something that needs to be heard. Yay me!
Ok, so here it goes.
I am an addict, and I am addicted to myself.
Stop laughing.
I’m serious.
I have put on weight in the past year that I never imagined I’d put on in the absence of an alien life form living in my stomach.
The weight is a problem because it has affected my size. Do not give me “oh you’re so skinny” comments because I only have two pairs of pants (out of about 11 pairs) that actually fit me. So shut up, I do not have a complex, I am a confident individual, and I will not become anorexic or bulemic. Put your fears for my life aside and listen. To me.
The weight has come on because I’ve turned into my worst nightmare - the average American. I eat what I want, when I want and in the quantities I want and I don’t exercise.
This sounds superficial because I’m talking about my outward appearance, but I want to make it clear that this is not all I’m thinking of. I am poisoning my body. I’ve already made myself very sick several times this year, and guess what, that coffee? That’s really acidic? And super bad for my almost-an-ulcer? Yeah, I keep pouring it down my throat. And then my stomach cramps up really bad. And I get moody. Like I am now, because my stomach is cramping and burning, because I just had a cappuccino, and I LOVED IT.
That’s the problem, right there. The sensation in my taste buds and the lightning energy that flows through my blood vessels, probably hardening them, as the caffeine soaks into my cells, is more important to me right now than the fact that I AM CREATING A HOLE in my intestines, which by the way, can lead to stomach cancer. Did you know that?
Guess what? As scared as I am of getting stomach cancer, I don’t care. Hahah, and YOU thought I was mature!
This is not good. And it’s not just the coffee. It’s the chocolate, and the sugar, and the ice cream, and Chuy’s, and Chick-fil-a, and Coca-cola, and salt water taffy and computer games.
What’s really bad, is that this attitude of being so overly addicted to pleasing myself is affecting other areas of my life. For example. I have no desire to read the bible, or even try, or anything like that. I also stay up later than I should, and wake up groggy as hell in the mornings, and then take my happy nexium pill, and then get to work and drink coffee so I can function, because guess what? I’m highly irresponsible, and I’m irresponsible with a BODY THAT IS NOT EVEN MY OWN!
Don’t trust me with your possessions, folks. God gave me a body to use for his glory and I’m totally messing it up.
I look at my reflection in the mirror when I’ve put on a cute skirt that I love and that’s when I notice a curve that shouldn’t be there. At least, it didn’t used to be there. You know the one I’m talking about, that is shaped like a bicycle tire and is sitting around my waist. Yeah. That curve. I hate that curve, but not enough to put down the corn syrup.
I’m wasting my energy, I’m wasting my heart, and I’m wasting away doing this to myself. I know that. My heart knows that. My heart wants to change that. But there’s something in me somewhere that is evil and will.not.let.me.change.
At this point, “just stop it” is not good enough. I need to go cold turkey or something, because this is not in my control anymore.
I’m unhappy with my appearance, I feel like crap all the time, and I have no energy to function correctly in the body of Christ.
And I barely care.
There you go. How’s that for a confession?
Posted in Along the Way | 3 comments
Posted by Rebecca
Mon, 06 Aug 2007 13:11:00 GMT
God, it’s happening again.
I’m becoming apathetic. I can feel it seeping into me and I’m doing all I can to hang on.
Wait, no. No, I’m not doing all I can to hang on because right now I don’t care.
So here we are, you and me. You caring and loving and me loving but not caring, so I guess I’m not really loving after all.
I know this is bad. I feel like I’m outside myself, and the part of me that is outside knows better and can see that what the part of me on the inside is doing, or not doing, is detrimental and even just plain wrong. I’m poisoning myself in too many ways.
It’s weird.
So here’s what I am asking, God. I am asking for help, because I know there are some things that needs to change, but I’ve been ramming my head against the brick wall that is my will and I’m not getting anywhere. My heart wants to change but my steel will refuses to be moved. I can’t even make a dent in it.
This frightens me because I’ve come a few steps on this path and I sure don’t want to go backwards. I want to be obedient inwardly and outwardly but I can’t do it right now, with out your help, because I don’t care enough to do anything about it. I’m exhausted, and I only care enough to pray.
So I’m choosing to pray a dangerous prayer. It’s dangerous because I know you will answer it and the answer will make my skin crawl and bring excruciating pain to my flesh. But I’m praying it anyway because I’ve been through a lot of excruciating pain and the gain at the end was always worth it and I came out of it ok, and I loved you more for carrying me through it all.
So here’s the dangerous prayer.
Break my will. Don’t just bend it. Break it. Demolish it. Crush it. Because I cannot live with my own will…it is killing me slowly and nothing I do changes it. I need divine intervention, and I need wisdom to know what do with the pieces once you smash my will into oblivion.
I need to be able to listen again. I need to be able to seek again. I need to be able to care again. I need to be able to love again.
I need to live for you again. Help me get there.
Posted in Along the Way | 1 comment
Posted by Rebecca
Fri, 03 Aug 2007 13:18:00 GMT
I meandered over to a blog today, where I read this post.
I almost cried, right here in my office, because I know exactly how he feels and I am so afraid of this happening to me again.
I lived in the pit of hell for at least four years and when God reached in and pulled me out, miraculous as that was, it still took me four years to recover.
And I’m still working on just being “normal.” The counselors and therapists and shrinks call it “well-adjusted.” Basically, it just means you can deal with life.
I still have really hard days, though. Sometimes, I have really hard weeks and I get really scared and I think nobody knows it but I’m pretty sure that at least some people know it. That’s one of the weird things about depression…you really believe you can hide it, but it affects EVERYONE around you. I admire RLP for recognizing it and doing something about it immediately. He’ll defeat it this round, too, because he is not just thinking of himself.
Depression is a selfish disease. Once you stop dwelling on yourself, you get lots better. Funny how that works.
But I find myself a little discouraged today, because I’ve read so many blog entries by so many different people who have experienced depression in the past and find themselves in it once more.
I don’t ever want to go back there. God, please keep me from ever going back there.
But I’m afraid that, since it has happened to a lot of other people, it will one day happen to me. I mean, I think I know how to stop it. I think I know the triggers. I’ve been in therapy nearly four years now and I’ve learned a ton. But, surely these people have, too. So what does that mean?
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Posted by Rebecca
Tue, 27 Mar 2007 18:28:00 GMT
My inconstant and fickle heart never ceases to amaze me. I never can go five days in one humor and most of the time I can’t go five minutes in one. Today I deal with this reality once more as doubts and fears creep into my mind and heart.
These are the very doubts and fears that God himself calmed within me, and I can’t help but wonder what it was that enabled me to let my guard down.
I often struggle with getting things right, and when I say struggle I mean my mind is dominated with the fear of failure. Sure, I am confident in my personality and confident that God loves me and that there is a grace which covers me every time I slip and fall. This, however, does not mean that I’m one hundred percent content with falling. I’m terrified of falling because falling hurts and I’m a person who is very familiar with pain. Pain is not pleasant, and I’d rather avoid it if possible.
The confidence of which I earlier spoke is new found. I was not always comfortable in my skin. There were times when it wasn’t warm enough, or when it was too hot, or it was too tight, too loose, or too itchy. I felt I didn’t fit in it. Then God came along and tailored me to fit my garment. I’m still settling in to the realization that it fits well and is exactly what I was meant to have on. For those of you who are lost in my metaphor, ask me later and I’ll explain in plain, boring, non-metaphorical English.
What I’m getting to is that though I am confident, sometimes I forget that I am. I stress and worry that I’m making a big mistake. The more people I talk to, the worse this gets. The more I research something, the more confused I become. This is partly because there is a tiny portion of me that still wants people to be pleased with my decisions. I can’t bear the thought of someone sitting in their living room, judging me for a personal life decision that I made. It sounds ridiculous, but those of you who know me well know that there is a part of me that is just that – ridiculous. I’m ok with being ridiculous. It makes me real.
Another aspect of this difficulty is that I am a forward-thinker. I have suffered the consequences of poor decisions made by ancestors, who have long since passed from this world, and I know of their decisions, and I see the cascading effect of those decisions down through the generations to me. I shudder at the thought of making a decision that will affect my children and grandchildren and others on down the line. I can do something with my life that can have a huge positive or negative impact on their lives, and I’d much rather pass on the positive.
When sticky situation arise, I tend to look within myself to see where I need to grow. I tend to be of the general opinion that if a circumstance in my life is painful, then there is something in me that needs to change so that I can rise above the circumstance. Did I mention before that I’m idealistic? Maybe I didn’t.
This week, I’ve been dealing with the concept of envy. My pastor spoke on it this past Sunday and I think my humor changed at least 7 times during the service as I took in the truth which he spoke. I had been praying for God to give me wisdom regarding spiritual growth, because I hadn’t confronted anything in myself for awhile and I knew that there was more in me that needed to change. Then I heard the sermon on Sunday and was shocked to the core when I realized that I am a deeply envious person, and that I had rebelled against seeing that in myself for a very long time.
As a result of this, I have been launched into a complete re-examination of my motives for, oh, just about everything in my life. I have learned that making decisions out of fear is really insane, but I never thought about envy. Now I am filled with the fear that it has been a motivating factor in my plans and decisions for life, and I am second-guessing everything. I thank God that humility comes with the wisdom he gives. I believe this is true because when I receive wisdom from God, it throws into sharp relief my own blind stupidity. I’m so glad he loves me in spite of myself. I am also glad that in the grand scheme of things, I really know nothing, because if I knew it all, I’d have no need for God and I am falling more in love with him each day.
I’m not sure this post has any conclusion, but that’s ok. Sometimes, there can be joy in finding no conclusion, because after all, the journey is the exciting part of life. But for those of you who are always moved to pray for me and would like to know specifically what I prefer prayer over, you can pray for this: that through this God would reveal himself to me and myself to me and empower me to change the direction of my life in any area requiring that change, and that my heart would take hold of this and not let go of it.
Posted in Along the Way | no comments
Posted by Rebecca
Fri, 23 Mar 2007 21:24:00 GMT
I received an email message from my secret prayer team today asking if I had made any progress on this.
I had fully intended to provide a timely update on this situation but time got away from me, so I’m doing this now. The query from the secret prayer team was a good reminder to not leave everyone hanging.
God heard my prayers and the prayers of my community, and I have seen his hand working in the situation in very real and observable ways. Instead of throwing in the towel and giving up on the situation, I’ve decided to stay the course a little longer.
God provided just enough shade to give me rest so I can continue through the desert, just as he promised.
For those of you who have been praying for me or will be praying for me, thank you so much. It is a great encouragement to me to know that I am not standing alone.
Grace and peace be with you all!
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Posted by Rebecca
Tue, 06 Mar 2007 22:30:00 GMT
About three years ago, when I was transitioning from my first admin job to my second admin job (I’m now on my fourth), I met a middle-aged man who left a strong impression on me.
We were moving offices around at the end of the summer and we had hired a temp to come help with moving furniture and boxes, and prepping rooms for paint. The temp that came over was a tall, super nice, middle-aged man.
He was very nice, very friendly, and very intelligent.
I remember him saying that he had a young daughter and he was going through a divorce and had gotten laid off from an electrical engineering job and was struggling to make ends meet.
He became a temp at UT so he’d have a possible chance of getting some kind of job that would enable him to pay child support and such. His story moved me because here was a guy with a brain who wasn’t lazy and life still dealt him a bad hand and he was doing everything he could to stay in the game.
I made it a point to pray for him and as often as I thought of him I prayed that God would open a door for him. After we finished moving the offices, I didn’t see him again. I wondered over the last three years what became of him, but chose to trust that God was taking care of him.
Yup. He’s in my office right now, finishing up his homework. About three years ago, he saw a flier for the graduate program here and talked to the graduate advisor about it. They encouraged him to apply and he was a provisional admit. He will graduate this semester with a Master’s degree and has been doing interviews with engineering firms all over town and will likely land something great with an excellent salary, as most of our graduates do.
I remember recently someone stated that it’s hard to remember to pray for people when you’re likely to never see the fruit. I said at the time that I believe you have to trust that God honors your prayers. I can pray all day long for people in Darfur and I may never ever see the fruit of my prayers but I know that God is listening and I know that he takes my requests to heart.
When I prayed for this man I didn’t have any hope of ever seeing him again or finding out what became of him. But for some reason, God decided to let me see the fruit of that prayer. Of all the prayers I’ve prayed, he let me get to see the fruit of that one. I now know that what I’ve believed for so long is true. God listens. Prayers bear fruit.
You never know when you’ll get to see it.
Posted in Along the Way | no comments
