Daintely Odd

So many people talk about Christmas like it's a beautiful time where everyone gets along and things are perfect. Time spent with family was great. The food was delicious. I loved my presents. I don't think there's been a year that I've been able to say that about Christmas- and this year was no exception, but for a different reason. I've had a very real and challenging holiday full of frustration, anxiety, sadness, excitement, contentment, anger, laughter, confusion, happiness. I'm not sure if it's because other families are healthier, or if other people are healthier, or if other people deal with things better or if it's just because most people don't want to be honest. I've felt lonely every Christmas that I can remember. Until this year...when I felt more like I didn't want to be myself.
Sometime around the beginning of December I ran into a part of myself that hides most of the time but chose to stay around through the holiday season. When Christmas day was over, I came home and cried. I had a wonderful time too. I enjoyed my brothers more than I ever have before- and because I didn't feel like I needed or wanted anything, my presents were fantastic. But mostly I was hit by the stark reality that whenever I encounter my family, I feel pain. I get frustrated; I feel trapped, anxious and impatient. For some reason God chose to use Christmas as a time to remind me that I'm a broken person. There's so much that I don't understand about myself and so much that I haven't faced. So much of me doesn't show itself everyday, until I'm not prepared. And for some reason, all those things feel worse at Christmas. When things are supposed to be more special and more perfect, when families are supposed to love being able to see each other, I just remember that I don't really have that. That most of the struggles that I faced the whole month were caused by the people I'm supposed to love being around. And what feels worse sometimes is that to those who have great families or great Christmases, I get the feeling that I'm being negative or ungrateful. That I'm just not in the Christmas spirit. That I'm just not trying hard enough.
Only the funny thing is that the reason we celebrate Christmas is because a baby was born to seek and save lost people that he loved; born to live a life of rejection and die a death of pain. And there's not supposed to be either at Christmas. Only good food and memories with family. I'm not really going to accept that. As difficult as it is for me to answer honestly about Christmas, I am going to. It was hard. I cried alot and I hurt. I had good times. But mostly I hurt.
I've been wondering how exactly to approach giving everything to Jesus when most of the time the things that he wants from us are invisible, intangible, elusive things. They are the things that make us hurt when we're supposed to be happy. They don't listen to holiday etiquette or follow expectations. They just come out and they demand attention and they beg for relief. And Jesus is that relief- so more than ever this Christmas I'm just really thankful that I hurt alot because it was at the exact time that a baby was born to shoulder that hurt. I was exactly what he came to save.

Waking the Dead

If I had gotten around to posting my previous thoughts I probably would have written about my new thoughts on the Passion, after having watched it a second time, or about love. But the theme in my life the past few days has been quite the opposite: fear. Not fear like, 'what scares you most' but fear like 'what has the world done to your heart that keeps you from being the way God intended.' My roommate is reading this book called 'Waking the Dead' by John Eldredge: "The story of your life is the story of a long and brutal assault on your heart by the one who knows what you could be and fears it." Many days I feel that I could be something great but that something is holding me back from getting there. The more that I honestly face what fear is, the more I realize that my life is ruled by it. It's inevitable that a person's history must come into this discussion at some point, so let me just say that my life was very unstable growing up, I began to fear alot of things, and I was left to live in that fear without refuge or comfort or correction until my fears eventually disguised themselves as other things. So what am I talking about? Sometimes I'm afraid of getting sick when something important is coming up, sometimes I'm afraid of getting really sick at all, sometimes I'm afraid of peoples' reactions, what they think of me, what my boss thinks of me. I'm afraid of my car stalling in the middle of an intersection, or not having enough money when I get to the check-out at the grocery store. I'm afraid of being vulnerable, and of being forgotten. Mostly I'm afraid of writing songs, recording a cd, and having it end up in Value Village. Yesterday my friend said to me that if you sit on the talents God has given you without using them, you are not living for His glory. I don't want to not be living for the glory of God. But I don't know what to do with these fears that have defined how I live my life- how I express myself- how I survive. "Well formed love banishes all fear." So it's about love. For God so loved the world...