This is who I am

“Women’s town: where women rule and men obey.”

Guys, be glad you live in America. Your lives could be much more difficult.

In fact, you could be forced to wear this.

I slept twice last night - once when I got home from work (the first 4-hour sleep cycle) and then again after dinner when I went to bed (the second 4-hour sleep cycle).

The first sleep cycle involved the following dream:

I was in the water near a beach. The water was crystal clear and there were some people with me (no one specific).  We noticed a strange formation along the floor and we snorkeled to see what it was.  It turned out to be an arrangement of fish. They were alive, and they were swimming in place. They were not ordinary fish however. They looked like fish skeletons, (like the ones in super mario world, except more realistic) and they formed an arrow.

It was like the undead fish were trying to tell us something.

I then found myself alone in a motor boat on a lake. It was nighttime, and I had a golden retriever with me.  I was puttering around the lake and I stopped the engine to rest in the silence of the night.  The dog got alittle uneasy and jumped in the water.  I then heard a loud bang and she jumped back in the boat and was wagging her tail and licking me and whining like she had just been spanked for wetting the carpet.  I took her hint and headed for land.

It was like the dog was trying to tell me something.

Then I was at my parents’ house. It was still dark, and I still had the dog.  I was walking up to the door of the house when a red pick up truck drove into the driveway.  A man got out and followed me up to the house. He was tall, and though I could see his features clearly, I didn’t recognize him as anyone I’ve known before. He requested use of the phone.  I knocked on the door and my mom came and answered it.  I asked her if he could use the phone and she let him in.

I then turned around and looked into the carport and noticed that door to the storage room was slightly open. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.

That’s when I woke up and realized I’d been sleeping for four  hours, and oops, I guess I wasn’t going to work on my paper after all. I also felt…creeped out.

I went back to sleep at about 1 AM and slept up to my alarm and a little past. Ok, I slept a lot past and was  15 minutes late to work this morning. But, I digress.

I was in a house that was sunlit on the inside even though there were few windows (don’t ask me why.)

I was younger…like maybe 13. My dad was there, except he didn’t look like my dad. We were alone and we were looking for something.

I found that something on the top shelf of an almost empty closet.  That something was hidden behind a stack of folded blankets. It was a very well crafted, sharp and shiny halberd.

Yes, it was a halberd, of all things.

I gave to my not-dad. It turns out that a villain was lurking in the house and my not-dad proceeded to sink the halberd between the shoulders of the would-be villain and killed him.

Then I woke up and realized it was 6:30 AM and if I didn’t hop in the shower immediately I would be VERY late for work.

What a weird evening.

I’ve been thinking about the Kingdom of God lately, and the community that is found there. Except I’ve never witnessed that community. Sure, I’ve had friends in that community, but if I really take a hard look at those friendships, none of them are what I’d call intimate.

We talk about some heartfelt stuff, but we never go near the nitty gritty.  I think for me this is because I’ve either been rejected too many times or people  have taken advantage of my relationship with them too many times.

I guess what I mean is that the nitty gritty can cause people to flee or to give you accountability.  But those that are so happy to tell you what to do with your life and where you are wrong, those people are not always willing to listen to you, look at themselves, and see that they need to grow too. Relationships are not one-way streets, and I’ve found that I’ve had to weed out of my life those people who seem to believe that they are.

So I find myself afraid to get close to people. I find myself afraid to really commit because honestly, I’ve had enough of the above crap and I’m not interested in going through either one of them again.

But if I’m called to be in intimate, transparent relationships with God’s people, then I have to be willing to take that chance. I have to be willing to air my dirty laundry, and not retreat when other people air theirs.  I also have to be willing to confront people when they hurt me, or when they are annoying or when they need to clean something up in their lives. In the way that I have to sacrifice for my relationship with the Lord, I also will have to sacrifice for these people. I will have to give up rest. I will have to give up some alone time. This won’t have to happen always, but in a time of crisis, I should be there for them.

Right now, I’m none of these things. I’ m not even willing to make some of these sacrifices for my boyfriend. It’s that bad.

I also have realized that I fear intimacy with the Lord. It’s not that I forget to spend time with him, and it’s not that I am rebellious. I’m afraid. I fear what’s in that book, because I know what it means. More sacrifice. More work. More pain. It means the end of myself.

It’s terrifying.

And yet, there’s a tiny part of me that wants this so very badly. This is the first time that I’ve been able to see of glimpse of what it will take to get what I want. And I have a choice. I can seek it, knowing a little of how painful it will be to get there, or I can relax into the comforts of my modern American lifestyle and be lukewarm.  This will be no naive choice. Not like the ones I’ve made before, where I had no clue what the journey would be like.

It’s different this time.

This time, I’ll find out what’s really in my heart. I’ll find out what I’m really made of.

And I’m still a little scared of what I may or not find.

Sometimes, that’s the hardest thing of all to do.

So as you may have read below, my brain is gnawing on the concept of counting the cost of discipleship.

Sometimes the cost is small, sometimes it’s big. One thing is for sure: you have to pay up daily.

I learned a tiny lesson today that I pray I’ll remember. It went like this.

Rebecca has been sick in some form or fashion for nearly a month. Rebecca settles for nothing less than an ‘A’ in her classes. Rebecca is VERY stressed about her paper and a quiz that she has to make up from when she was sick and missed class.  Rebecca did all the reading but couldn’t remember the story because she was sick when she read it. So, Rebecca made a quick study sheet and read it over and over at work this morning. Then, Rebecca prayed “God, you know I did the work. You know I’ve been honest in all my dealings with this class. Please help me on this exam.” Then, in a fit of nerves, Rebecca reads about the story on Wikipedia, and notices something that she forgot to study, so she reads it and makes a conscious effort to remember it. Later, when she had to take the quiz, the entire thing was on that one little part that she read on Wikipedia. Rebecca felt sheepish, thanked God, and told him that she had decided not to skip bible study to work on her paper, because today, being Christ’s disciple is more important to her than anything else and she’d rather sit at his feet.

(Yes, I know I switched verb tenses throughout the story but I don’t care right now so shush already.)

It’s not that discipleship is a legalistic thing. It’s not that I’m going to receive blessings because of I do “right” things.  When I prayed to God today, in my heart I gave up. I relinquished control to him and my focus shifted to where it should have been in the first place: God. He was helping me get back on track, because I’ve been off track lately.  I then realized that God honors the heart that loves him for the sake of loving him. I feel as if words are failing me right now because I feel that no matter how I say it, it can be taken the wrong way.  All I know is that my life, the big bad paper included, is all in God’s hands, and if I seek him and his Kingdom first, everything else will be taken care of.

No, this doesn’t mean I can just not do the paper and I’ll get a magic ‘A.’ It means I don’t need to worry about having time, energy, or the ability to concentrate on the paper. God will give me what I need to do that work.

Basically, I need to chill.

What must a person give up to be a true disciple of Christ?

This is what we are supposed to be thinking about for bible study this week, and honestly, until last night, I haven’t done so.

Because it’s scary.

I have to ask myself what is most important, most dear, most beloved in my life. Would I give it up to follow Christ?

He may not be asking me to give up the things I’m thinking of, but the point is am I willing to if he does ask?

Would I give up my comfort? My plans? My hopes? My dreams? My family? My friends? My love?

I am afraid of the answer that I will find in my heart. I am afraid that the answer will be ‘no.’

It is easy to say you’d give anything for a closer relationship with Christ, until that point where you actually do have to give something.  I am afraid of that point, because I am afraid I will keep the ring instead of casting it into the fire. I am afraid of deceiving myself, because I am so very good at it.

I want my hopes and dreams fulfilled. I want my plans to go through. I’ve lived my entire life thinking that when I get to point A in my life, I’ll have X, and when I get to point B in my life, I’ll have Y.  And when I pass point A and point B and I don’t have X or Y, I get a little disappointed, and then I make new and glorious plans to get X and Y.

I’m not that willing to give anything up. I stand for what I believe in, and I work to get what I want. This is a good thing if tempered by the Holy Spirit, but the way to achieve that sort of temperance is not obvious.

I don’t know if I’m really willing to count the cost. And as much as that scares me, I don’t think it scares me enough.

Yet.

After suffering stomach pain and a severe loss of sleep, followed by the untreatable head-cold from hell, I’m finally back at work all day and I’m starting to vaguely feel normal. Very vaguely.

A lot of this, I think, has to do with the fact that I’ve given up. I’ve been stressed all semester about pulling an “A” in my English class, because I want to have the option of graduate school, and I have to make up for all the bad grades I got when I suffered from depression. This has led me to be more stressed and worried over this class than I should be. After all, is God not my father?

I ask that question because my worries have revealed a severe lack of faith that I didn’t realize I had. Yes, I need to be responsible, go to class, do my homework, etc. What is important to remember is that my path has already been established and my steps have been ordered by God. If graduate school is part of the path, I’ll make it there.

So I’ve relaxed about my final paper a lot. I was freaking out because we have to turn it in this Friday if we want feedback and a chance to improve it, but the final version is not due until May 4. It is a big risk, turning it in on the last day without running past the professor first, but that’s a risk I may have to take. Besides, I am working on the paper, and even though it won’t be finished this Friday, I can always turn in the unfinished portion.

I need to remember that I am not in this game alone. The battles are not mine to fight, and in fact, they’ve already been won. After everything I’ve been through (a lot of which is documented on the old blog, sniff sniff) you’d think I’d have a stronger level of trust in God. Apparently not, but that’s ok. The important thing is that I know better now and I can work on it. Remember, his grace is sufficient. It is by his grace that I get to live this life anyway.

Maybe I’m dumb. I doubt it. No, in fact, I know that I’m not dumb, so there must be something that is not quite resonating with my brain.

I took my prescription for Protonix to HEB today on the way home. The plan was to drop it off and pick up the meds on my way home tomorrow. I have two pills from my sample left, so I’m good through Friday.

The pharmacist takes the script and puts in to the computer and then tells me that my insurance company won’t cover it without a phone call from my doctor. They want me to try Nexium first. Except that Nexium is for acid reflux disease, not duodenitis. Now, I know that my insurance company probably doesn’t know that I have duodenitis. They do, however, know that I got an upper GI last week. Then, I turn in a script for a proton pump inhibitor. Now, they want prior authorization from my doctor to make sure I really need this medicine. Because apprently, a PRESCRIPTION with my DOCTOR’S SIGNATURE ON IT is not authorization enough.

Apparently, they can’t put two and two together and realize that the upper GI must have yielded results that prompted the doctor to give me the prescription in the first place. Geniuses. All of them.

I know that I wasn’t planning to pick the meds up until tomorrow, but insurance companies are slow and now I’m a little stressed that I won’t get my meds before I run out of samples.

Can you sue an insurance company for causing the stress that irritated your duodenitis to the point that it became a bona fide ulcer? Seriously. We do live in the great United States of America, where you can prosecute other people for your own stupidity and win. Imagine what would happen if you actually sued somebody for their stupidity? I bet the judge would fall right of his chair.

I’ve decided hell is not a place full of fire. It is a place of torment, a place where you have to take a never ending final exam on general relativity and everyone in the room is smacking their gum and tapping their pencils relentlessly. Or maybe it is a perpetual rush hour and you are surrounded by idiot drivers in the middle of a Texas thunderstorm. Or perhaps you have to fight your insurance company tooth and nail to get them to ACTUALLY PROVIDE THE BENEFITS YOU PAY FOR!

I decided that for the sake of posting I’d write about how I’ve been uninspired to write lately. Part of this is because I have a pissed off duodenum and I’ve not been feeling well for three weeks. Part of this is because my regular blog is down and I really don’t want to fill this one up with stuff that I’d rather have posted up on the other one. Part of this is also because I’m in the mood to wallow in my misery and you’d do very well to leave me to it, thankyouverymuch.

It’s amazing how very off-kilter things get when I remove my focus from God and start focusing on me. I think it’s the me-ness that gets me down. It always has been in the past. It’s funny, because the things I want to accomplish for myself are in and of themselves not bad: success at work, success in school, shed 10 pounds and develop healthy eating habits, get married, have a best friend, learn more about God. These things are all fine and dandy when coupled with the right perspective. But I somehow keep managing to screw up that perspective. I keep wanting these things for the wrong reason: my glory instead of God’s glory.

This sounds cheesy and elementary but it’s the truth and it’s evidence of how spiritually immature I am and how far I have to go.

I guess I’ve been uninspired to write lately because I also don’t want to face this. I don’t want to face the ugliness in my heart: the jealousy, the anger, the lust for making my name important, the thirst to somehow make myself better than other people so I can lord it over them in some powerful way. It’s true people. I really am that stupid.

And God, out of his goodness and grace, still blesses me for the shred of my being that actually somehow manages to hold on to him. Although he probably is hanging on to me more than I’m hanging on to him.

Anyway, my hope is that as the rain lightens up and summer approaches, and as my real blog is restored, I’ll write more, and I’ll back myself into a corner where I have no other choice than to face myself and my grotesque nature. My will shall be submitted before God, and these things will be overcome in my life.

Sometimes, being uninspired is a good thing. When it lasts too long, the lack of inspiration can be a very inspiring force.

That’s right.  If you’ve never listened to anything I’ve said before, listen to me know.  My advice will save you a lot of pain and money and time spent wondering why the hell these weird things happen to you for no obvious or apparent reason.

Do not piss off your duodenum.  It hurts like hell when you do. I know this because that is exactly what I am suffering from, a pissed off duodenum.  The technical term is duodenitis, which is a painful irritation and inflammation of the duodenum, or the passage from the stomach into the small intestine.  My doctor did in fact tell me that somehow my duodenum had gotten really “ticked.”  The symptoms are the same as for ulcers, and if left untreated, duodenitis can become erosive and eventually cause a duodenal ulcer, which is really difficult to  heal because the duodenum does not easily regenerate.

Apparenlty, I listened to my body and caught things just in time.  They figured this out by looking at the x-rays that were taken of my guts during my oh-so-pleasant upper GI last week.  Usually, they find duodenitis from performing an endoscopy. THANK GOD I didn’t have to have one of those.

Anyway, I am now on the space-age proton pump inhibitor for the next six weeks of my life. And even though my doctor told me not to worry about what I eat, I decided to make a journal of what I eat and how it makes me feel, with the hopes that a modified diet will expedite the healing process. That’s right. I’m willing to give up my yummies in order to get better, because people, this hurts like hell, and if this is not even an ulcer, I can’t imagine what THAT pain would feel like.  Frankly, I’m not interested in going there.