Yesterday, I posted on my public FB page about life being impossible and awful and how I had no hope and therefore must die. Or…something like that.
A bit ago, the company I was working for folded & all of sudden *poof* I’m unemployed. As it turns out, they were straight up swindlers. They owe a lot of us a good chunk of change & made it impossible for any of us to collect unemployment in the midst of this abrupt change. No notice, just goodbye and right before the holidays.
A few weeks ago the stress of this situation started folding in on me like a backpack of stress getting heavier by the day. But last week, I got THEE MOST unexpected news that I could be suffering from a serious non-pregnancy related medical condition and we’re still waiting on test results. What in the actual? I’ve been healthy as a horse. I’m significantly jarred.
When life is unpredictable like this, particularly because I’m pregnant & suffering through hella morning sickness straight up, I FEEL VULNERABLE. Having a little person depend on you for their existence does this to a pregnant woman on a mostly normal day. When you add financial uncertainty, the emotional stress multiplies with seemingly infinite & specific worries. Notably, as a dual residence, divorcee’, custody-sharing blended family, financial implications affect where we live which have custody implications. It’s frightening. Some problems and mistakes you expect. It’s these unexpected doozie’s that throw me off my emotional game. I’m ready to acknowledge that I’ve never set into place an ongoing strategy to battle the war raging in my brain during times like these. The emotional hijack is full and it is complete. I take an emotional beating and do not keep ticking. I’m like the energizer bunny who fell over and looks as if he got drunk and high while he lays there barely banging his little obnoxious drum.
But here’s the good news if you were waiting for me to get around to it.
I put it out there as a vaguebook status update. Several of you offered up support and prayers. God, I’m so grateful. God answered. Before I put it out there, one of my best friends Jeanie-Bop (as I call her) had called and quickly plunged into the conversation this way, “how are you? Are you okay? Are you not doing well? You’ve been on my mind all day…I’ve been thinking & praying & worrying and not knowing what is going on. What’s going on? Just please tell me something!” We talked for awhile. And it helped, of course. Emotional connection with trusted loved ones usually does the trick. It’s a little bit of magic. Pixie dust for the vulnerable. Breast milk for the starving infant. Beautiful selfies for Kim Kardashian. Liquid gold. It’s good. It’s always good. But that’s Jeanie-Bop. She’s magic.
A few hours later, Marla texted to check in. I don’t mean to do thee most in worrying people, but when it gets bad, I’m not generally afraid to sound the alarm. I’m a last born, #unbothered to ask for help when I need it. I’m an abuse survivor, #unashamed to say I’m struggling. For years, off and on, I’ve been haunted with episodes of depression, suicidal ideations, PMDD, post-partum and all manner of the I-CAN’T-DEAL-WITH-THIS-DRAMA. For me, sounding the alarm in moments of despair (real or perceived) has in fact, saved me. Saved-my-life saved me. (Though I’ve learned how to better sound those alarms when using social media). I digress. Marla & I texted. That too, helped. A lot. Because Marla is wise beyond the friggin’ Proverbs. And she’s in Cancun. On vacation. And she texted me. God bless her sun-burned feet.
Later last night, I dug into Brennan Manning’s Ruthless Trust. I found it on the floor of our messy bedroom. Brennan’s words ALWAYS speak to me without fail. I randomly started in at chapter 10: The Cracked Pot. Because, look at me…cracking, oozing, falling apart, wailing, moaning, throwing pity parties fit for a queen. And God just rushed into the mess and used Brennan’s word to call me out of my self-focus and into TRUUUUUUUUUUUUUST.
Fast forward to today. I knew I had to go to Church. I did not want to go, but I had to go because my soul knew I had to go. My soul knew that no amount Netflix & Chill was going to address the fear in my heart. Y’all. The message was entitled “3 Reasons not to Give up Hope.” But before that, the worship went IN and so did I. And while I was crying through worship, my friend Micah texted me, “hey how are you?” And when I saw it just keeled over crying again.
All the while, my husband’s been away at work, checking on me as often as he can. I sent him the longest text in the world trying to sum all this up…the gist is this…
…God sees and loves.
…His mercies are new every morning.
…I will trust.
Brennan said he named his book Ruthless Trust because Webster’s defines the adjective ruthless as “without pity.” He says he uses the word ruthless in the context of trust to mean “without self-pity,” because self-pity is the arch-enemy of trust.
So, I’ll just be over here not engaging my self-pity trying to trust my little brains out.
*All images are of our life lately. Beautiful, painful, brutal, scary, unique & wonderful life*