Busted Out Bottom

There once was a time that I was in control of my thoughts, plans, emotions, body. A time where I could shut off the intense feelings and thoughts. A time when I was calm, cool and collected. A time where I let things roll of my shoulders and just had fun.

I am not sure when this was but I am pretty sure there was a day or two in the past 34 years that I was like this.

Actually, I think I was just really good at stuffing it down and moving on. Stuff....stuff...stuff... stuff....explode....stuff....stuff...stuff explode....stuff.....stuff....you get the picture.

Now, I ask, why? Why did I stuff? Why not deal with it?

I sometimes wonder how did I get to a point of feeling so desperate. Desperate for peace and calmness and wholeness. Why now? Why are things so hard now? I used to be able to pull up my bootstraps (well more like, pull up my cute black boots worn with jeans, a turtle neck, scarf ....sorry I am missing the coolness of Autumn right now) and carry on. Now...not so much. It's a struggle, why?

I sit here and I can hear my husband's voice whispering to me that we will get through this....I hear him saying you have been through worse- no one is dying today....I hear my sweet friend who has walked this journey a few years longer than me stroke my hair and tell me to have some grace on myself. I remember the words my Father had written down so I could know that He has begun a good work in me and He will see it to the end and that He loves me.

There is nothing really rough about life right now. In fact it's pretty good. I have amazing healthy kids, great circle of friends, a spiritual community who I love, a husband who is healthy, working and invested in his family, I have two part time jobs that allows for me to pour into others.....what is there to be down about?! Nothing!

I think it's like my daughter's dresser drawer. It's long and deep and she can stuff alot of stuff in there. Stuff that was never meant to be in there. Stuff that should have been thrown away along time ago, or cleaned, or put somewhere else. She can stuff it and stuff it and stuff it until the bottom of the drawer falls out and then there it is all over the floor and there she sits, crying not because it's no longer in her drawer but because it's a big big mess to clean up. She has no idea and no energy to stuff that back into the broken drawer that Daddy can repair. She stares at the emptiness and doesn't know where to begin in filling it again.

Even as I write this I can hear the nagging voice of a proficient liar whispering to me - No, you are writing a lie. It has nothing to do with that. You are just broken and you can not be fixed.

I know it's not true (most of the time). I know that for far too long when things are broken I just move on to the next adventure. The next task. The next need that I can fix. Now, I am here and I long for the next distraction (can't write that without hear Alanis Morrisette).

 It would be easier- but then I begin to wonder what would happen if I stay put long enough to see the exploded contents of the drawer get cleaned up, the drawer fixed and then filled with what it was originally designed for so many years ago.

He's still working on me
To make me what I ought to be
It took Him just a week
To make the moon and the stars
The sun and the earth and
Jupiter and Mars.
How loving and patient He must be
Cause He's still working on me!