Struggles in a new city

Here, time flies by. I take each day as I can, swallowing the occasional sadness that comes from a deep homesickness. I do not know where this comes from. I know the memories I am about to make are probably far greater than the fistful of laughter I remember from my home city. And yet parts of me ache for things I never had, which is weird. I guess this feeling hasn’t exactly been foreign to me. Yet, I still believe I am clinging on to the imagined scenarios of myself I wish I had experienced. The acceptance, and the welcoming, mostly. In being different, I somehow always seemed to find myself feeling left out. Left out of the conversations and the understandings. Like I had never managed to grow up past the age of ten, and I was foolish for expecting that other adults would see that, I, too, had become one as well, and deserved to be told how they felt about me. It’s not like I wanted in on the gossip, but just the understanding and the knowledge that comes with being part of one unit, of an entity greater than myself. 

I’m still struggling to find a job. And it’s okay for now. I keep knowing that whatever is supposed to happen, will. And it’s not the fear that my God won’t come through at just the right moment (I know that He doesn’t show up a moment too late or a second too early in our struggles), but I fear that I myself might not be doing enough for Him to work with. I know that I believe that He does not help those who help themselves, but I believe that we have to do something for him to be able to develop. I can’t sit on my ass and hope that He magically creates some beautiful future for me. I have to fight through the fear, push into faith, and struggle through each aspect of my faith. He knows this. 

It’s human nature for many of us to want to do what we can to right the world, to fight for the future WE believe we deserve, and to put into works what we want. But sometimes we just plain don’t know what we want. We couldn’t know what we want because these truths have not been revealed to us. So we sit and wait and press our palms together hoping that we will be able to find the treasure hidden for us on the end of the path that has been carved into the forest just for us. A path that has our names on it. You see, we each were given a path. We all have a future mapped out, a destiny, per say. And gifts–things we are so very good at–that we are supposed to use to change the world in some way. It may be simple. Maybe our gift is our compassion and our need to help those around us. Our path may be slow steps to being a light in someone else’s life. But we would not be able to see this path without the help of some divine spirit. 

So I believe that I must do my part to find my path, to push through the forest for the trees, and to fight, to always fight, for the use of the gifts I have been given. That’s my duty. And I worry, that right now I’m not doing enough. I’m trying to apply for jobs when I can, but as far as resumes go, I don’t exactly know what I’m doing. Having worked entry level positions my whole life, it’s different for me to not simply fill out an application online, but to formulate a complicated process of words and letters to explain just what I learned and did at my old jobs. I had put down what I felt were challenges to me at my old jobs–what I had learned and fought through–because I thought that it would give others a good sense of the type of person I am. Until my husband told me that while he completely understood the point of view I had been trying to display, to others it might look like I was complaining about the challenges I had faced. I’ve decided to keep those to myself until I interview. I guess that might stay off any confusion on their part. 

The other challenge I have faced is not knowing exactly why I am here. I know I was sent here so I could use my gifts. Meet people. Start reaching towards my dreams. 

A few weeks ago I was lying in bed, honestly overwhelmed and scared for the future, and for the things that we ahead. Often, He talks to me in the quiet times, in the pauses when my heart beats fear and confused. Suddenly, I heard Him say, “Remember when you felt weak and hopeless? I will use you to speak to thousands. Be bold in the faithfulness of my promises.” And I smiled, because He has shown me this in a vision. Because I have held tight to this promise, this small glimpse into my future, and have remained strong in the face of all adversaries. 

I’m so tired of being weak. Of finding myself drowning beneath humanity and the expectations I have of my future. I don’t know what to expect. Who or where I am supposed to be meeting others. And this is why I feel like maybe I’m not doing enough for Him. That I’m not getting out enough. Maybe I’m not pushing myself when I feel exhausted from the newness of a different way of life. 

I don’t really know how else to explain it. To express the tumult of thoughts that threaten to assault me daily. I sometimes lie in the quiet and hear my heart beating a symphony of fears and expressions of unknowns I haven’t accounted for. I over-analyze everything. Feel myself sometimes gasping for air in an empty room, like the expectations I have placed around my neck are too tight, and all I need, all I fucking need is one moment to breathe. Just a moment to breathe. 

I find myself in a torrent. The teetering of finding myself on the brink of change and staring into the light that is my future, clouded by a myriad of questions. Of unknowns. How do I navigate? 

 

The repeating dream

Here’s an interesting dream I’ve had off and on for a few years.

I somehow manage to find myself in a bad part of town. It’s dilapidated and broken down, signs on the buildings are sad, and there is a weight all around. There are no one on the streets but some dirty, aggressive men leaning around shouting assaults at either me or the people without faces who are walking around. I try to pick up my pace, to blend in like one of the faceless people. I walk down an alley way. It is narrow. On each side of this pathway there are doors. Each locked up with padlocks, or gates, or they look terrifying. Tonight, I noticed a few of the doors were pathetically decorated with pretty paper or decorations to try to make them look lively. Finally, I enter one the buildings.

As I begin walking around, from apartment to apartment or room to room, I notice that they are dark and dimly lit. They are often dirty. Very dirty. Once I enter the filth I am always floating, because there is so much stuff everywhere that walking is impossible.  I rarely see tenants, but if I do hose that live in these places never talk to me. (I know this is difficult to explain. I’m doing the best I can right now). The places contains a depression and brokenness I can feel and it is extremely heavy in the air. Tonight, I dreamt that there was a “specialist” going around to the apartments discussing to the tenants why they are so sad. (for some reason I can’t decide if I was the specialist or if it was someone else I was observing.) The specialist in my dream began asking the tenant why she was so sad, what happened that parts of her home were closed off from being used. She said that her sister had died there and she was unable to grieve. 

In a different part of this building, I entered someone else’s home. The woman on the chair in the living room was so desperately broken she couldn’t get out of her chair. There was a gruesome fact that I will spare you, but she looked sickly and sad. Just so damn sad. There was a dachshund quietly walking around. The carpet was so disgusting. 

I don’t remember much else of the dream, but there have been different versions in the past. One of them is the same dream, but I don’t remember talking to anyone else, and the homes are always hoarded. I don’t often see people in the dreams. Another version is the same thing, but in a hotel. A rundown hotel and I sometimes hear people in the shower or mulling about, so I hide.  The other involves a house. I never know what it completely looks like but the first part of the dream, it is clean. I think that there are children in other rooms playing, but somehow I find myself in someone’s clean closet, amidst their clothes. I push the clothes aside to find a hidden doorway. It’s big enough for me to crawl into. I do so, and there are levels and levels of undiscovered rooms. They are empty, but there are big windows on the top floors. Some reason, I am afraid that those on the outside will see me. When I go to the basement of this house, I find rooms of hoarded things. I can’t figure out why, but usually my great grandmother is standing at the door way to the basement with me in this part of the dream. When we cleared her house, she had hoarded generations of treasures. She grew up during the great depression and there were times in her life when she wasn’t sure when she was going to eat next. She stands at the top of the stairs with me, and below there are piles and piles of the things she hoarded, broken and covered in filth. I may have ventured down to this part of the dream before, but I am not entirely sure. I don’t remember anything happening after this. 

 

(meth)enhim

I’m not going to lie and say this is my best work. I’ve had trouble writing for a while now, but I just needed to get some thoughts, some things out on the paper tonight. If you couldn’t tell, I’ve been reading a lot of Ellen Hopkins lately. 

 

Schllliipp

the noise of matches

in the darkest hour

of his existence,

crushed up against

the inner workings

ofa glass tube

hoping to find

the last drop of innocence

oozing in the empty buzzing space

that lies

inwhatshouldbe

brain matter.

 

Teenage doubt

is not the only stench in the air,

wafting from alcoholic lips,

emotional fingertips

and too much cologne

hoping to cover the sweat

of too many monsters

found under the bed.

 

There’s a party going on

in bedroom closets

where sevenminutesinheaven

has tick-tocked into

a life-time of regret

and the reek of need

is stronger than the

perfume of confidence

and holy things like

his lips on her curves,

toes wedged in floor cracks

as they rock back and forth

in the celebration of too many

canvas paints

spread together into one color.

 

Rainbows have come

from more haunted spaces

than the cavern

that dwells beneath

aching atriums

and twisted tongues,

clinging to the mass

of the last shipwrecked

dream

America fed him,

mama singing nighttime

lullabies between

tears,

trusting this time

willbe better,

that his smile

wouldwreck the world

wash wicked souls

into the ocean

of fire.

 

I wish I could tell you

that at least this part

was true,

butI still

have not found yet

who decides

what holes need plugging

first

when a ship is quickly sinking

into the sunset,

leaving memories burning

in the opening of your mouth,

shattered in the scent

of his high-

tened need,

crawling into the teeth

of the monster. 

 

I’m fessing up, I’m stuck in an emotional rut.

Okay, I’m going to come right out and say it. I’ve been really struggling lately. Struggling with the fact that I feel like I’m trapped. I know that there are all of these big things in the future in store for us. I also feel like God has been giving me all of these challenges because he wants me to grow so that he can give me the next big things he has planned for me. I’m trying to cling on to my faith, but all I want to do is crawl under a rock and scream. I know He has the bigger picture figured out but I’m sick of this. I’m sick of everything. 

I need someone to talk to about all of this, but it’s so personal and that’s what makes it even more difficult, because I don’t want to open up. Prayer has power, I try to utilize it when I can, but it feels like it only gets me so far as a person. I don’t even know what I’m hoping to get out of this post. I don’t want people running to me begging me to tell them what’s up because they want to get my back. I don’t even know what to say if I tried to talk about it. I just know that I’ll have two or three really good happy days, and then I’m back to wanting to bawl my eyes out. I feel so unstable sometimes, and some days so weak. I know I am strong when He is with me, but where do I find power to overcome the constant, nagging emotions when I can’t find mind control to calm the internal seas? Who do I talk to about the way I’m feeling without feeling like I’m going to be mocked for my emotions. 

Honestly? I feel as a woman, being emotional is something I hate. I don’t want to feel like a rollercoaster all the time. I want to be a stable person. I’m sick of the overwhelming sense that I cannot control how I feel, or the ten different ways I want to react when I’m upset, which is usually some desperate combination of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness. Does being a woman automatically render me psychotic when I’m emotional? Probably. (Yep, I just sounded misogynistic when I said that I’m sure). 

I know I’m rambling, but somehow this is making me feel a little better. I’m aimlessly wandering. I know He wants to rid me of the American dream, but is it so bad that I want to dye my hair, live in my own house, not be 40 by the time I have children, and maybe do a little bit of traveling. I can’t live here much longer. I need adventure. I know He has to be preparing me for this in some way. It’s the only way I can hang on some days, when work is so shitty I don’t know what to do with myself. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel, I am not without some form of hope. 

There might be a few desperate months ahead, though. 

I have the answers, but I’m failing the waiting test.

Lately, I feel like my relationship with God has been a roller-coaster. I’m trying to hang on tight, and have been having some wonderful highs along the way. But the last few months there have been a lot of lows. I feel like I’ve been given a difficult test, and most days I’m struggling to pass it. 

When we got married, my husband and I agreed that he would wait for me to finish up my associates and then we would go away to school together and get our bachelor degrees. We had looked at a private college and fell in love with the way they did things. But we are not in debt, and the thought of going away to a college that was so extremely expensive and would definitely land us with years worth of debt didn’t seem right. And we made the decision. It wasn’t right, at least not then. We knew that God had other plans for us. 

As we began waiting for an answer about where we should head next, I was comforted by knowing that I would not find the next step until I graduated. God knew my mind was already overloaded with the five classes I was taking, so I was patient, knowing the answer would come eventually. 

Once school ended, I made the mistake of believing that what would come next would magically appear in my head right away. A week after finals, I looked at my husband with tears mixed with a little bit of anger. “I’m anxious and frustrated because I feel like I should be hearing what we are going to be doing next, but I’ve heard nothing. Am I missing something?” He giggled a little and told me that just because God was going to tell us after I graduated doesn’t mean the solution was going to appear within the week. He could not have been more right. And I was embarrassed at my foolishness. 

So, I did some more waiting. 

But my frustration was growing. I knew in my heart I was supposed to be patient. That it’s all about the waiting PROCESS and in the mean time I was supposed to smile and know that God had my back. After all, it says in Matthew that if He takes care of the birds how much more will He take care of me? 

So it has been a constant battle. 

I know I am supposed to wait, I am trying to be patient in waiting, but I’m failing because I feel like I’m trapped in limbo. 

The other week I was telling God about this. Explaining how I didn’t know what to do, or where I was supposed to go. And I felt His warm hand on my shoulder and his quiet whisper say: “I haven’t told you what you are supposed to do next because you are already doing it. You need to learn to love others like I have loved, so that you can learn to love yourself.” For a while, I have felt that I was placed at my current job because I have made a large impact on the people I work with. A few weeks ago, God actually gave me some specific names of people I need to connect with. I really liked these people to begin with, so it isn’t as though my friendship would not be genuine, I just know now that if I am faithful with asking for His assistance in these relationships, the Holy Spirit will guide me. Not to get too off track, but I feel like God has captivated some people in his desire for them to know they are his Beloved. He has called them by name and brings people into their life to know they have been chosen. His love had no boundaries, and He will go to any length to make them see this love, even if that means using me in every way He can. And I can’t wait to be his vessel, to show other people that they are His beloved. 

But besides knowing I am supposed to love others, I know nothing else. I’m struggling to understand what to do with my time. If I am being completely honest, I have ten to fifteen people at any time that I have promised to hang out with soon. I also have a marriage to balance, and a life. His life, one I want to give to Him completely, no holds back. My husband has been extremely understanding of me over the years, and I could not ask for anything better. I wonder how Jesus managed his time when he was on earth. Clearly people all over were attracted to Him, and wanted to His help or to hear His wisdom. I just wish I could find out the perfect balance for everything, and set proper boundaries.  

I sort of feel like God has put me in one of those funny mazes without an end until the realization of what He has in store for us has hit me. And then the enemy thought it would be funny to add confusion to the mix to make my head spin. I know I’m supposed to love others. Got it. Check! Working on it every single day. 

When people ask me what my husband and I are going to do now that I’m done with school I try to find comfort in telling them that we are “waiting on God.” Someone asked us if we weren’t supposed to be helping ourselves for God to help us. To which I replied that the Israelites waited 40 years to reach the promised land. I will wait as long as I have to to be captivated completely by Him.

But see what I said about my head going around in circles? It’s already going that direction in this post. 

I was reading this book by Joyce Meyers called “The Battlefield of the Mind”. Last night I got to the conditions of the mind, and the book was saying that confusion is a tactic by the enemy to make us distracted from the voice of God. We can’t hear him when our mind is all over the place. It also said that wondering about things too often and for too long is not a good thing to do either. And I started tearing up. I prayed, hoping that I would be free of these abnormalities in my head, because I only want to be committed to the path ahead. 

Are you beginning to see where all of my frustration is coming from? I see that there is goal ahead. I know in the meantime I’m supposed to be loving people with a big heart. I know I’m supposed to be listening for the voice of God in the darkness, and I’m doing an alright job. But stupid things called life get in the way and I don’t know how I still have a head on my shoulders or what turn I’m supposed to be making in the maze I’m trapped in.  

All I know is that sometime in the future I see myself being a big time writer. I see myself on stage in front of thousands of people, reading poetry that has been handed to my brain cells by the hand of God. So I’m taking the time now to develop my writing skill, to write all of the thoughts that are swarming around in my brain every day. This alone is a task. 

I’m praying to find a balance. Writing, friends, work, and husband. Oh, and the other duties life says an adult should complete. 

I don’t what I’m asking for in this post. Maybe someone else to tell me they’ve felt the same thing. To feel some answers. Some revelation. To know that my friendships are working. Some encouragement. Something. I’m sick of not feeling ANYTHING, of feeling empty, of feeling blank about now. I’m sick of looking ahead and not focusing on now. I know the right answers, yet I’m somehow failing this test anyways.