Sunday, March 6, 2011

Sunday Sentiments: Rubble

Sunday Sentiments is an attempt to record what God has been teaching me and the way in which He does it.

 Grand Canyon, Havasupai, 2007
"and still i dance around the fortress with jesus and look at all that he shows me, all i am allowed to see, and i just walk around and over the bricks and who cares if they’re in the way or i have to climb over them to get to the other side, la la la i’m not in my tower, but roaming my fortress…with all of these bricks. laying in a pile of rubble.
the thing is: freedom from anything -in this case, my trauma- is counterfeit if i don’t grab my shovel and haul the rubble out.  that is to say, yes. yes, i have experienced a level of freedom from my relationship trauma. only now i have to get to sift through the areas of my life which the trauma affected. to learn how to live without it successfully.
because who wants to really look at a pile of rocks on top of what otherwise might be a pretty garden?
{eventually we might get used to them, but those who don’t live with our rocks would take notice of them when they come for a visit.}" -Mary Kathryn Tyson "Beauty for Ashes"

My friend MK has an uncanny ability to write posts about things that I'm currently pondering...or about to.  I strongly encourage you to read her whole post on Sifting Through the Rubble. It proved to be rather timely once again.

I've become pretty good at ignoring the rubble in my life. For so long I've focused on the boulders that have been removed, choosing to overlook the rocks and pebbles that continue to clutter the garden.

On a weekend with dear friends in town when my heart should have been fuller than full, I tripped headlong into it.  My knees are a bit bloody and bruised from the experience and I'm not sure what to make of it.  The usual triggers weren't there. As the tapes played over and over in my head Friday night, I couldn't find the truth to counteract them.  I would instruct myself to stop thinking about this, weakly calling to God.  I craved numbness.  I actually was tempted to track down a cigarette- and I quit more than 10 years ago so this stress-related craving came out of nowhere.  Instead of smoking, I tried to go to bed but my insomnia decided sleep would be too kind.

I was left to cry and pray instead.  I did not want to deal with this rubble.  Truthfully, I don't even know how. 

But.

But.

But.

If I don't deal with this junk, I will continue tripping over it.  I will continue holding on to my collection of pebbles.  I will keep beating myself up over things I can't control, over my past, over my fears. 

Today I'm trying to quiet myself so I can listen.  I want to see how the Holy Spirit might lead me.  I want to utilize the support around me.  I don't want to be chained to my moods and destructive tendencies. 

It's time for me to remember that I'm Beloved.

In any remodeling project, the old has to go before the new can begin.  In the meantime, I'm going to accept my tears and anguish.  I'm going to confront my pain.  So if you see me and I look a little worse for the wear, know it's temporary.  There's some rebuilding going on. 

5 comments:

  1. It's such a great mystery, isn't it? If we are new creatures in Christ, why so much rubble from the old creature days? Oh that we could fully live as new creations all the time. And yet, all that rubble keeps us utterly dependent on Him, I suppose.

    Grace and peace to you, Leigh. Thanks for being honest about your struggle.

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  2. I'm right there with you, Leigh, in process and in heart. I will be praying for you whenever I see your name on my blogroll or reader.

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  3. @Megan, I always love your perspective. Sometimes I wish I could be just a little less dependent on God, given the personal cost. But when I compare my stuff to what it cost Him, well, I have little to say at that point. Thanks for the encouragement!

    @Kim, thanks for understanding and for the prayer.

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  4. Leigh, what a beautiful post. And a great analogy for the STUFF that gets into the corners of our hearts and minds. I think it's harder to deal with these things when they sneak up on us, but regardless of how we become aware of our own rubble, I'm so thankful that God is always there to help us shovel it away.

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  5. Such honesty! Thank you for sharing your pain, God will use it to reach others that are hurting. I pictured you picking up your shovel as a read this post. It's a start in the right direction, keep shoveling. We all are shoveling with you.

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