it’s been a long week.
class and the relationships therein have provided for great discussion and challenge. on Tuesday, i had such a desire to be comforted in an elementary way that i got out the children’s books i’ve carried with me since i was young. i read Marvin K. Mooney and Beatrix Potter stories to myself until i fell asleep.
Wednesday was an awesome day. biked to class with a friend. about 6 miles on a beautiful, crisp, fall day. then i had the opportunity to work with Calvin Fletcher’s, a little coffee shop in my neighborhood that is striving to provide a place for community to gather. i’m doing some light marketing and communication work in exchange for chai’s and pumpkin bars. bartering is beautiful. then, my mama treated me to a new hair-do.
but yesterday was world’s different. we had a guest teacher in class. he and his wife are currently navigating the adoption process, plowing through the ugliness of a system that perpetuates violence and abuse against children, reading the stories of little ones who’s lives have been devastated.
we watched a video told from the children’s perspective, about how helpless they feel, how at the mercy of the “Big People” they are, how everything that happens to them matters. something deep, deep inside began to ache desperately, driving me into a sort of manic state. i spent the drive to work crying, smoking, listening to angry, desperate music.
i finally slowed down, got some work done and headed home, still angry and hurt for reasons i couldn’t identify. i finally spewed the mess of thoughts out to my roommate and felt some relief. she comforted me, but also reminded me of the necessity of caring for myself. of not smoking, of eating regular meals, of sleeping and resting. she was the mother that i needed.
i can’t explain where the pain was coming from, but it was old and i knew it was from a very deep place. i tried to explain it to another housemate, but concluded that it was from my childhood. i hesitate to even admit that in light of the horrid stories i heard yesterday, because mine was nowhere near that. i had a relatively solid family with parents who loved me. but it was still messy. i often felt helpless to keep my family together, to fix things. the emotions i was experiencing didn’t make sense because they were originated in the heart of a scared and confused little girl and didn’t easily translate into adult thinking.
later, my roommate found a passage about navigating through the pain and read it to me before we went to bed. i am better this morning, but tired. still, i navigate. but not alone. i am blessed to be surrounded by community who remind me that i am important and loved. i am blessed by a Creator who calls me His and won’t abandon me, even to myself….