Being Midwesterners, my husband and I sometimes get strange looks regarding our tastes in food. If we believed in previous lives, we both would say that we are southerners. In my genealogy the furthest south my family gets me is North Carolina but I’m pretty sure that shrimp etouffee wasn’t a common dish there. My husband’s claim to Louisiana includes one generation of Italian immigrants who lived there in the early 1900’s so maybe that’s his excuse.
Yet, same as my dislike for the Confederacy, there have been a few southern dishes I have had that I don’t desire to revisit. Alligator is one of the items (it’s a cross between hamburger and pork tenderloin… it’s just greasy, gristly meat in my opinion). Another one would be frog legs. My dislike for frog legs aren’t necessarily due to the taste but because of the amount of meat you’re dealing with. It hardly seems fair to kill a frog so I can get less than an ounce of meat. Call me sentimental about a cute amphibian with stage presence, I guess… it’s not easy being green.
A few weeks ago my husband and I were talking about a topic in one of my previous posts. I told him that I think people are a lot like frogs sitting in water that’s slowly coming to a boil. I’m sure you’ve all heard about how when frogs are placed in room temperature water that’s slowly brought to a boil they will stay there as if nothing is wrong. They get acclimated to the temperature and they don’t even realize when the boiling water is dangerous. If a frog is placed into boiling water outright they immediately sense the danger and try to hop out of the pot.
So much of my life was similar to a frog sitting in water that was slowly being warmed and cooled. I never knew the difference between what was “safe” for me or not. My compass was broken (in that it’s “true north” was based on pleasing other people) so it’s no wonder that my senses were broken.
I HATE (hate isn’t even the strongest word I want to use here) to say that my miscarriage may have actually served a good purpose but it may have. The death of my baby faced me to look at my “normal” and decide that it actually wasn’t safe at all. It was as if the miscarriage pulled my body out of the boiling water for a while to reset to room temp and when I recovered I was dropped back into the pot and I realized I had to escape.
It’s after you face the problems and come out on the other side can you tell when someone’s hands are near the dial on the stove. Many people around me, good and noble people, sit in that boiling water with sweat dripping down their face and throw others a smile to convey that everything is fine. Yet, most can see right on the stove that the dial is turned too hot and water is starting to boil. Those folks dripping with sweat don’t want to face their problems. They’d rather live in their “normal.”
… It’s been a tradition for some years on my blogs to post a year-end reflection and I tried this year, to look back and write a letter of thanksgiving. To reveal all of the good things and the bad things that have happened in the past year (plus) would be too much. Not everyone needs to know everything. The things I write on here I don’t mind revealing to acquaintances or even strangers, but some stuff in life is reserved for that sacred space between trusted friends.
… but what I’m most thankful for these past few years or so is that God pulled me out of boiling water. I’m thankful that He let my body reset. I’m thankful that He gave me some serious courage to do some things I knew people would judge and ridicule me for. Through the act of obedience came indescribable miracles for me and those closest to me.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. – Proverbs 3:5-6
Two years ago, one of my first blog posts here, was a statement about WHY I have this blog. I started this blog because I felt compelled to write, to tell the world about Him and His work in my life. That’s still what this is about… to tell you about Him. Just like that old man and the flood, God uses other people to help me and I will tell you about that as well. I write about what I read, what I have learned in counseling sessions, and what I learn in observations about other people or conversations with them. Some people make cards, other people paint, I write. I want to stir something up in you. I want you to desire to live in contentment and joy (this is not without trials and hardship but they all coexist together) and I have witnessed first-hand that through sharing my experiences someone relates and can make a change for the better in their life.
Based on the influx of actual humans reading my blog these days, I am confident it is working. I am thankful that God calls me to write about mental illness and struggles, I am thankful he called me to be brutally honest and write about my deep pain as a preteen, I am thankful that he calls me to write about grief, and I am thankful he calls me to be very candid and open about the blessings I’ve received in working with a therapist.
The things I write about aren’t to convince people who won’t be convinced (I’m not sure why they would read this anyway)… I write for those people who feel alone, need help, or need a little nudge when they have already heard God calling them in a direction. When I started this particular blog in late 2014 I had no idea the direction my fingers would go. What started off as a blog about my experience with the world and observations about it has become something quite a bit deeper and at times controversial… and I’m happy especially that I wrote “Brutal Honesty,” “Be Not Afraid – of the Therapist,” “How People Handle Grief,” “Sometimes Divorce in a Christian Marriage, or any Marriage,” “Marriage Troubles – The Elephant in the Room,” and “Fears, Anxieties, Depression, and Suicide.” There was a fair amount of interaction with those posts but primarily it was the private messages I received about them. The most important thing about them was that I made a connection with someone else and they no longer felt alone.
This next year I pray that you will continue to journey with me as I go further and take on a new topic or two (I’m very excited to share some new stuff with you that I’ve been recently dissecting). Thanks for your continued readership and especially your interaction.
Give thanks to the Lord for He is good, His mercy endures forever. – 1 Chronicles 16:34