Anyone who follows me on Facebook know that I am often vague in my posts. That is intentional. Even among my "friends," I fear of what others might think if I really open the door to what my world looks like. Too many times I have been burned, and the scars still ache sometimes. Sure, I could clean out my list and only have on there people who would never do that, but then we are all guilty of it sometimes. So what then??
This morning, I made my usual check on what is happening in the world. Friends retiring, camping, birthdays, vacations, dates, etc....
Something stuck out though.
"What's on your mind, Kim??" That is the question you are asked in the status box before you type.
It gave me pause. If only.
If only I could tell you what is on my mind. What is on my heart.
If only I could tell you the grief I feel this morning of once being part of something, and now only watching from the outside. People who used to be "my people," now go on through life as if I don't exist. Weddings I am not invited to. Retirements I won't get to celebrate. Vacations I won't get to hear about. Babies I won't get to hold. Lives I don't get to be a part of anymore. It makes me sad. I don't begrudge those of their joy, but I miss them. I miss being part.
I can't go back to the unhealthy situation that we left, but I never thought it would cost me a great deal more. The enemy wants me to believe that I am shameful, not worth anything, and while I am grieving still over the loss, I won't believe that lie. It does make me think about the relationships we commit to. When we tell someone that we love them, do we intend it to be conditional? Do we even realize it?
If only I could tell you my burdens. The ones external. The ones that make me worry in the night. Where will we go? What will we do? How will we pay for that? The sea of uncertainty about our future is scary. I try to be brave. To be strong. Courageous. But, inside...I am a mess. I am terrified of the possibilities, of the change that will be required, of hoping for something that may just let us down.
We don't have a pool of family and friends to draw strength from as we once did. We do have good friends. They would be there in a pinch, for certain. But how fair is it to always draw from the same well? How long until that well drys up? How long before those friends go the way of the others and we become just observers of their life? No longer invited to participate. It is easy to say, "I wouldn't do that to you," but how many times have we all said something like that, only to fail in following through? I never want it to happen...
If only I could tell you my fear, the internal battles. To be brave, raw, open, without hiding away hoping you won't see my struggles. Fear of being alone. Forgotten. Fear of being shut out, useless. "God is bigger than this, He is always faithful." "God will provide, He is always working." "God already has the plan, He will show you the way..."
All good things to say, ALL true. Yet, I still fear sometimes that God has forgotten where I am. I fear that He doesn't hear my prayer, but will run to the prayers of others instead. I fear God may have run out of patience with me. Disinterested is dealing the same issues I can't seem to get past. Anxiety is real. I know the the enemy wants me to struggle like this, to question God's goodness and fear God's wrath. When you are waiting for some sign that God is present, known, loving, faithful...It is easy to think that God may have forgotten you.
If only I could share with you anything at all. Like the things that make me laugh, or the things that make me angry, or sad, happy and even to cry (both good and bad). How freeing it would be if I was able to share my daily status without judgments. To tell you about the highs and lows. No need for suggesting medications, or counseling, complaints, or competition, just simply laugh and cry with me. Like we should. Like I would do for you.
Wouldn't it be great to share what you are thinking? Even if someone disagreed with your thoughts, they would either not comment or be respectful? "I can see where you might think that," "I can understand where you are coming from," Thank you for being brave enough to tell us your story..." Something that shows we can still love each other, even if we can't relate, agree, or think they are crazy! To truly carry each other. Not because we are equally equipped to handle whatever the burden (good and the bad) might be, but that we have strong enough backs to bear the weight. To love someone through their own crazy, accepting them entirely without judgment.
"What's on your mind, Kim???" Lots. Things I can write about here, but never share on Facebook.