Bareness and friends

We are in the process of selling our house. I came to the realization today that selling one's house is what it's like to put yourself out there to people you don't even know. People tell you that you need to clean. People tell you that your house smells funny. People tell you that they don't like the power lines in the backyard, so they're not buying. It feels like people tell you that they don't like you. It's hard to separate that from your house. You've put yourself into the house, made it yours. And now people are judging you.

People come to look at your house, so you want to present the best version of your house. And it turns out that you want to present the best version of yourself. Of course I haven't thought about it that way because this is the first time I've (we've) sold a house. Mom said that people do it every day, but that doesn't make it any less stressful to put yourself out there.

As cheesy as the comparison is, selling a house is like life. Putting yourself out there is hard. It risks criticism. It risks rudeness. It risks others not liking you. And don't we all want to be liked? At the end of the day, the human answer is "YES." So much yes. The Christian answer is absolutely not, if it means obedience. Do we mean that all the time? It's hard to obey 100% of the time. But if we trust God's plan, we will find it easier to say yes to His plan, to take in the hard criticism. From Him or from anyone else.

I have determined in the last couple of weeks that my life is lacking because I'm not putting myself out there to other people, and that I'm totally going to try to do just that. It's scary, but aside from the house, it's been fantastic. I've met an internet knitting friend who was totally cool with my introvertedness, and I've called friends to talk that I haven't talked to in a YEAR. (This friend was in my WEDDING 7 years ago). Point? I don't reach out to my friends enough. If I reached out to my friends twice as often as I did now, I would be half as stressed. After I finish this post? I'll write an email to a friend that I've emailed in the last year but it's time to catch up. (We were trainees together in 2006 and she came to visit me in Brasil -- we took a crazy awesome vacation while I was there.)

Next? Who are friends on my street? I'll call my neighbor who just had a baby (her pics are in my texts) to find out when I can come visit. I'll text my friend Susanna who I've been friends with for almost 20 years. I'll call my friend Corrie who I talked to last week but she's pregnant so I have to find out how she's feeling. I'll call my sister who has my only blood niece (10 months!). I'll email my friend Julie who doesn't have kiddos. I'll call Miranda who lives in Germany and has 5 kiddos. I'll call Allison who has 4 kiddos and is always good for a talk, except when her kiddos are sick. I love the ladies that God has put into my life thus far, and I'm willing for new ones. I told Corrie not 3 days ago that my profession as a pharmacist is the means to an end of connecting to people. Those connections are hard and people are hard too. I want to genuinely connect to people, and it doesn't always have to be connected to anything else. I have no idea what my original post was about but came to the realization that it's about PEOPLE.

Reaching out

Of course, as I am figuring out through reaching out to friends and family in my grief, I don't reach out nearly enough. I use the excuse that I'm an introvert, but in reality, being an introvert and introspective traps feelings inside without being able to deal with them.

I talked to a dear friend, my mom, and my mother-in-law yesterday and sobbed. I talked to my sister-in-law (a dear friend) today and sobbed. It probably has to do somewhat with the grief I am feeling for the Lewis family as they grieve over baby Ava, but there is more.

I grieve because I know the Lewises walked into a situation they knew there was no happy ending to (except for Ava being in the presence of Jesus). I grieve because I'm homesick -- I'm tired of being away from family. I'm grieving somewhat because I don't often encounter actual suffering -- just self-entitled bitching. Sorry for that, but it's where I am.

I have told several people over the last few days: The suffering of the world hurts me. And by that, I mean the real suffering. I have a sensitive BS meter and the ones who are "lifestyle suffering" people meet callousness. The real ones meet tears. Include the wife whose husband had a massive heart attack the other day at 55, with no warning. Include my friends who have had to bury their not even 6 month old daughter. Include the time I cried all the way home from work when one of my favorite patients had to go on dialysis. I don't like to admit it, but I am sensitive to suffering. I just hurt when the world doesn't turn out the way God intended. And I just don't know how to deal with it.

I would love to know how to make a living out of helping other people through their suffering. Retail pharmacy these days is not that way. I know the Lord has a plan, and I'm trusting that while I bide my time in my current job.

These days, I find myself crying more than usual. There's some deep grief going on, but there's no one specific thing that I can point to as the cause. There's so much cause for grief right now. The passing of a not even 6-month-old child. Leaving our house. Leaving Houston. Being so far away from family and friends. Being in a job that is hopeless. Feeling like I'm not good enough (extending to my job, house, marriage, relationships).

The grief is deep today. Let me sink into it and acknowledge it. Let me feel heartache, and let that heartache make me reach to the One who can assuage that ache. Let me be real. Let me remember that the turbulence of life, much like the current of a river upon stones, wears away our sharp edges over time.

'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

I'd like to say that the grief is ebbing and that joy is beginning to flow, but that's simply not the case right now. I am in the midst of a dark night, with only the light of the Holy Spirit to light my way. I'm not seeing that light shining very brightly right now. I know it's there because I know it's there, but the knowing doesn't bring much comfort.

Let me sink into the grief and into the dark night and the reality of brokenness. Let me acknowledge it as fact without judgement or anger. While that in itself is neither something to stay in nor a means to an end, it is the only way to be made whole in Christ and comforted by the Holy Spirit. 

Life and Stewardship

In my last post I talked about baby Ava, who was born with only a brain stem. She passed away on Thursday, and I've been processing. I cannot imagine how her parents are grieving, for I am grieving only for her story (the good and the bad), and tears are copious. Josh and Allison and their 6 other children had to bury Ava today, and I can't imagine how that felt, even though she has a new life now.

Allison posted a conversation between herself and Josh on Facebook today that re-hashed why they did foster care training months ago. Why did they do foster training when they were going to adopt? Josh's answer gave fantastic perspective -- foster training is to prepare parents to love a child as their own and eventually give them back to the one who gave them life, if possible. They gave Ava back to the One who gave her life.

I am in tears as I write, and I am thankful for reminders from Scripture:

• "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."  Job 1:21b
• "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change."  James 1:17

 We are but stewards of the gifts the Lord gives us, only to have to give them back one day. Mostly, it's things, but sometimes, it's a human. Are you married? It's your spouse. Are you a parent? It's your kids. And your spouse, if you have one. Are you single? It's your heart friends. Are you human? It's your neighbor. I can surely say that makes me think differently about my relationships, and reminds me that everything in this life is fleeting except God. Only He is forever.