Nobody reads this. Of that, I am somewhat certain. But that's okay. I need an outlet, and it doesn't matter if anyone reads it or not.
Today, I held my buddy, my nine-year-old lab mix, Thunder, for the very last time. We're not sure what happened to him. Potentially cancer. How it happened isn't important. He's gone. That's what matters. It wasn't unexpected. He's been going downhill for a few weeks now, and we decided it was time to put him down before he suffered an undue amount. It wasn't the hardest thing I've ever done, believe it or not. But it was heartbreaking. I even made the vet cry.
PT school has sort of improved recently. No, it isn't getting easier. I'm just getting more calloused to it. I survived midterms. Everyone did. But there were a lot of people freaking out. Including me. Until a text from a friend reminded me that God is still going to use me whether I make it through PT school or not. My attitude changed. I began doing everything I could to encourage those around me. People told me it helped. And I felt like I was answering my call. Despite the bright face, however, and the oft-repeated phrase "It's gonna be fine," I was suffering a bit. Thunder wasn't long for the world, and I knew it. And it was eating me alive. I couldn't stop thinking about it.
It seemed, and still seems, strange that dogs are so short-lived. I think that they are a very good example of unconditional love. I don't know how many better examples I have seen in life. Yet, they only last ten, fifteen years, often less. Maybe that's why they hurt so badly to lose- not because we love them, but because they love us. That's why it leaves a void when they're gone.
Between school and the impending loss of my best friend, what I needed more than anything was hope. And I could find it in music. Music serves as sort of a brace. Despite the pain or weakness I may be experiencing, I can stand up and walk through life. There are particular songs that have been especially important to me this summer. Danny Gokey's "Hope in Front of Me" is one. Shane Harper's "Hold You Up" is another, and Needtobreathe's "Multiplied." It's a reminder that my circumstances suck. I don't have any answers. I have a lot of disappointment, a lot of pain. But I have no bitterness. I have hope for better times. I just have to be reminded of it sometimes.
Today, I received word that a classmate has a strange bacterial infection- she could be back in a couple of days, or never. They don't know yet. I almost started crying in class today, feeling like I couldn't handle what I knew was coming sometime this week. I wanted to get up and leave. Just run away. But what I did instead was listen to Needtobreathe's Rivers in the Wasteland album. And I got up and prepared for class. Then, I got 100% on a pathophysiology test. And picked up my official name badge. And I felt pretty good about myself. Then, Dad called. And the whole day turned on its ear.
I won't go into any detail about the procedure. What I will say is that when I was 13, my family was looking for a computer desk. One morning, Dad came home and woke me up, saying he had found something that he needed help with. I assumed I would be helping him to carry a computer desk. What I found was a big, goofy, smiling face pressed up against the truck window- Thunder. I took him out of the truck and carried him back to the house. Today, after he took his last breath, I had a request for the vet. He granted it. I carried my best friend out of the clinic.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Friday, June 6, 2014
Eating Crow
Today is the first official Friday of PT school. I say this with a deep sigh of relief. A whole day with no class, and plenty of time to attack the large hill (because mountain is over-dramatizing it) of work sitting before me. I feel much better than I did Wednesday. I feel like I can do this. And I believe I can.
Yesterday, our first attempt at group study sort of... stood up. I can't really say it took flight. There were three of us. And we lasted about fifteen minutes. But it was a start. We're working on plans for the future, too, using study rooms at the library on Sundays after lunch.
Lab was amusing. When the class finds someone who has a positive test or sign, everyone in the room flocks to that person so that they can see or feel what a positive test is supposed to feel like. I had a positive Vertical Compression test, and I had a line of probably fifteen people out behind me waiting to take their turn making my back buckle off to the left. One girl in my class has epically winging scapulae. Everyone wanted to watch them wing or feel them wing. It was pretty amusing, actually.
What wasn't amusing, however, was eating crow later in the afternoon. One of my classmates and I made the poor decision to mess with a classmate's bluetooth mouse while he was out of the room. I directed her movements to open another screen from another table. I felt instantly sick when I realized what a violation of trust we had just committed. I would absolutely hate it if someone had messed with my computer while I was out of the room. As a group, we need to be able to trust each other, and if I am pulling crap like that, who can trust me? Of course, I apologized, after spending the entire class period for PT708 feeling sick to my stomach over the guilt. When I did talk to him, he said, "It's okay. But thank you for apologizing." I could tell he hadn't been happy about it. But, being a mature professional, unlike what I had just been, he was willing to let it go. My response to him was that the program was trying to build professionals, and I was behaving like a squirrel. He laughed and looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and said, "You do realize you're going to turn out fine, right?" It somehow made me feel a lot better. He is only a few years older than I am, but a great deal more experienced in life. I think I trust his assessment.
Yesterday, our first attempt at group study sort of... stood up. I can't really say it took flight. There were three of us. And we lasted about fifteen minutes. But it was a start. We're working on plans for the future, too, using study rooms at the library on Sundays after lunch.
Lab was amusing. When the class finds someone who has a positive test or sign, everyone in the room flocks to that person so that they can see or feel what a positive test is supposed to feel like. I had a positive Vertical Compression test, and I had a line of probably fifteen people out behind me waiting to take their turn making my back buckle off to the left. One girl in my class has epically winging scapulae. Everyone wanted to watch them wing or feel them wing. It was pretty amusing, actually.
What wasn't amusing, however, was eating crow later in the afternoon. One of my classmates and I made the poor decision to mess with a classmate's bluetooth mouse while he was out of the room. I directed her movements to open another screen from another table. I felt instantly sick when I realized what a violation of trust we had just committed. I would absolutely hate it if someone had messed with my computer while I was out of the room. As a group, we need to be able to trust each other, and if I am pulling crap like that, who can trust me? Of course, I apologized, after spending the entire class period for PT708 feeling sick to my stomach over the guilt. When I did talk to him, he said, "It's okay. But thank you for apologizing." I could tell he hadn't been happy about it. But, being a mature professional, unlike what I had just been, he was willing to let it go. My response to him was that the program was trying to build professionals, and I was behaving like a squirrel. He laughed and looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and said, "You do realize you're going to turn out fine, right?" It somehow made me feel a lot better. He is only a few years older than I am, but a great deal more experienced in life. I think I trust his assessment.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves
My, it has been awhile, hasn't it? Yet, here I am, early on a stormy June morning, pounding away at this keyboard. Why now? Well, see, I have started a long, arduous journey known as physical therapy school. About two days in, I started wondering what I had done to myself. I'm a little more composed now, but I wanted to sort of journal the experience so that I can more accurately relate the experience to those who come later.
Orientation was the end of last week. While it was kind of long and dull, and most of the information won't matter for months, it was kind of neat to be in the middle of it, at long last, meeting my new classmates, officially being a student. It was exciting. The few preceding days had been full of panic, however, trying to get the clinical requirements addressed by the deadline (which was wrong on the email, to our relief). Orientation seemed like a nice break... even though most of the staff spent a significant portion of their speeches telling us about how horrible PT school is and how much harder we'll have to work towards success. I will admit, I didn't feel quite as enthusiastic about it as I began work on Dr. Pitetti's lectures, and the tests over HIPAA and BBP.
Then... real classes hit. Day one wasn't too bad- we had our most enjoyable class of the summer, TherEx, a long period off between classes, and then a very vague description of our pharmacology class from the new instructor. I left with a fairly high level of confidence, for at least the summer.
Day two robbed me of all of it. We had TherEx, Pathophysiology, and Intro to Professional Practice. Seeing the volume of work Intro would take (none of it difficult, just time consuming), the amount of information on the first Patho exam, and the difficulty of the Pharmacology course, I felt sick. I wondered if I had made the right career choice. I was seriously re-evaluating until Christian Challenge that night, when I received a reminder that I'm here to be a light, and if I go through my three years (or however long it takes to fail out, haha) glumly, I can't really benefit anyone. So, after that attitude adjustment, I took a crack at Day 3. It went much better. To my relief, some of us talked about the way we were feeling, and I found that I wasn't alone. We talked it out, and all felt better. The open afternoon yesterday (done with class at 2:30 on Wednesdays) made for a productive afternoon, that really helped me.
The hardest part, though, has been the fact that I haven't been able to sleep for a few days, because I lay awake thinking about everything I must do and learn. It's becoming very exhausting, mentally and physically.
The take home so far, for new students in the future, is that it is okay to freak out a little bit at the beginning. You're going to feel overwhelmed. But you'll adapt- and quickly. You'll probably be thinking, "What if I don't?" Well, I can't convince you that you will, if you're anything like me. But after a few days of deep breathing and living with you nose in the books, you'll be fine. Really.
Orientation was the end of last week. While it was kind of long and dull, and most of the information won't matter for months, it was kind of neat to be in the middle of it, at long last, meeting my new classmates, officially being a student. It was exciting. The few preceding days had been full of panic, however, trying to get the clinical requirements addressed by the deadline (which was wrong on the email, to our relief). Orientation seemed like a nice break... even though most of the staff spent a significant portion of their speeches telling us about how horrible PT school is and how much harder we'll have to work towards success. I will admit, I didn't feel quite as enthusiastic about it as I began work on Dr. Pitetti's lectures, and the tests over HIPAA and BBP.
Then... real classes hit. Day one wasn't too bad- we had our most enjoyable class of the summer, TherEx, a long period off between classes, and then a very vague description of our pharmacology class from the new instructor. I left with a fairly high level of confidence, for at least the summer.
Day two robbed me of all of it. We had TherEx, Pathophysiology, and Intro to Professional Practice. Seeing the volume of work Intro would take (none of it difficult, just time consuming), the amount of information on the first Patho exam, and the difficulty of the Pharmacology course, I felt sick. I wondered if I had made the right career choice. I was seriously re-evaluating until Christian Challenge that night, when I received a reminder that I'm here to be a light, and if I go through my three years (or however long it takes to fail out, haha) glumly, I can't really benefit anyone. So, after that attitude adjustment, I took a crack at Day 3. It went much better. To my relief, some of us talked about the way we were feeling, and I found that I wasn't alone. We talked it out, and all felt better. The open afternoon yesterday (done with class at 2:30 on Wednesdays) made for a productive afternoon, that really helped me.
The hardest part, though, has been the fact that I haven't been able to sleep for a few days, because I lay awake thinking about everything I must do and learn. It's becoming very exhausting, mentally and physically.
The take home so far, for new students in the future, is that it is okay to freak out a little bit at the beginning. You're going to feel overwhelmed. But you'll adapt- and quickly. You'll probably be thinking, "What if I don't?" Well, I can't convince you that you will, if you're anything like me. But after a few days of deep breathing and living with you nose in the books, you'll be fine. Really.
Monday, August 5, 2013
What Did You Expect?
One day a little over one year ago, I was driving into Wichita in a particularly stormy mood. I won't go into much detail over why, but I will state for the record that it was a dark time in my life, marked with a great deal of bitterness. There was a particular song by The Band Perry that was being overplayed by pretty much every radio station in Wichita at the time, called "If I Die Young." I'm sure you've heard it. If you haven't, you probably only listen to NPR or K-Love. Or audio books. Not that there is anything wrong with audio books.
However, I digress. As I was listening to this song for the umpteen-millionth time that summer, there was a line that seemed to rise out of the storm of my own life for the first time. "Oh, and life ain't always what you think it ought to be..." WHAM. I suddenly felt very foolish. Let's back-track a little bit.
Over the previous year, I had tried over and over again to be things I wasn't, because I thought that I should be those things. I tried to be a hero, mostly. I was treating my own life like I was the main character. And nothing was working out for me. I was tired. I was hurting from a back injury I had suffered in track. I was frustrated with being stuck in Wichita. Without getting overly personal, I was not happy about where I was in life.
I had just previously finished reading Stephen R. Lawhead's epic Byzantium, perhaps even the night before, I cannot recall precisely.
At any rate, without giving away too much about the book, there is a part towards the end where an embittered main character is asked by his own conscience what exactly he expected to happen on him after a long journey through dangerous parts of the world. He sort of has an epiphany-type moment where he realizes that yes, bad things happened to him, but wasn't that to be expected? When one travels a world full of wicked people and sin, sooner or later, something bad will happen. We don't always get exactly what we want in life.
It all culminated for me at that point. Did I honestly expect my whole life to go exactly like I hoped for it to go? Bad things happen to everybody, because the world is a place full of sin. It's like gravity. Just about everybody knows someone who attempted to emulate Superman by jumping off of a roof or who took a chunk of ice to the forehead because they thought it would get close enough to the sun to melt and wouldn't fall back to hit them (guilty). What did we expect? That gravity didn't apply to us? It does, and let me tell you, sometimes it hurts like the dickens. It's near impossible to get up because of it from time to time. Using the same concept, what do we expect in life? Bad things will happen. Life isn't always how WE think it ought to be.
And that brings me to another point. Not every "bad" thing that happens to us is really all that bad, after all. One of the things I wanted more than anything in life was to receive a scholarship to continue my track career out-of-state. That didn't happen for me. But that week, I was invited to Christian Challenge by a friend that I had met through track. I originally declined, but after my realization that I had a seriously skewed worldview, I talked to another old friend, who also recommended that I go to Christian Challenge. So I did. And let me tell, my life has been nothing like I thought it should be. It has been better. Had I pursued my career as a track athlete, I wouldn't have had this opportunity in the same capacity that I have. God knew exactly what I needed, and He took advantage of bad things happening in my life, and turned them into some of the sweetest things I have ever known.
So, remember. Life isn't always what we think it ought to be, but what did you expect?
However, I digress. As I was listening to this song for the umpteen-millionth time that summer, there was a line that seemed to rise out of the storm of my own life for the first time. "Oh, and life ain't always what you think it ought to be..." WHAM. I suddenly felt very foolish. Let's back-track a little bit.
Over the previous year, I had tried over and over again to be things I wasn't, because I thought that I should be those things. I tried to be a hero, mostly. I was treating my own life like I was the main character. And nothing was working out for me. I was tired. I was hurting from a back injury I had suffered in track. I was frustrated with being stuck in Wichita. Without getting overly personal, I was not happy about where I was in life.
I had just previously finished reading Stephen R. Lawhead's epic Byzantium, perhaps even the night before, I cannot recall precisely.
At any rate, without giving away too much about the book, there is a part towards the end where an embittered main character is asked by his own conscience what exactly he expected to happen on him after a long journey through dangerous parts of the world. He sort of has an epiphany-type moment where he realizes that yes, bad things happened to him, but wasn't that to be expected? When one travels a world full of wicked people and sin, sooner or later, something bad will happen. We don't always get exactly what we want in life.
It all culminated for me at that point. Did I honestly expect my whole life to go exactly like I hoped for it to go? Bad things happen to everybody, because the world is a place full of sin. It's like gravity. Just about everybody knows someone who attempted to emulate Superman by jumping off of a roof or who took a chunk of ice to the forehead because they thought it would get close enough to the sun to melt and wouldn't fall back to hit them (guilty). What did we expect? That gravity didn't apply to us? It does, and let me tell you, sometimes it hurts like the dickens. It's near impossible to get up because of it from time to time. Using the same concept, what do we expect in life? Bad things will happen. Life isn't always how WE think it ought to be.
And that brings me to another point. Not every "bad" thing that happens to us is really all that bad, after all. One of the things I wanted more than anything in life was to receive a scholarship to continue my track career out-of-state. That didn't happen for me. But that week, I was invited to Christian Challenge by a friend that I had met through track. I originally declined, but after my realization that I had a seriously skewed worldview, I talked to another old friend, who also recommended that I go to Christian Challenge. So I did. And let me tell, my life has been nothing like I thought it should be. It has been better. Had I pursued my career as a track athlete, I wouldn't have had this opportunity in the same capacity that I have. God knew exactly what I needed, and He took advantage of bad things happening in my life, and turned them into some of the sweetest things I have ever known.
So, remember. Life isn't always what we think it ought to be, but what did you expect?
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Persistance
Short and sweet. That's what you can expect from me today. I have things I would like to do with the short amount of time available to me prior to leaving for work, but I wanted to share with you something that sort of jumped out at me the other day.
In Challenge last Tuesday night, one of our leaders shared a passage that I had read several times, but never actually paid much attention to. In Daniel 10, Daniel is distraught over a vision he has had, an prays for three weeks to be strengthened. An angel of the Lord does come to him, and in verses 12-13, he tells Daniel that he had been sent at once upon the utterance of that very first prayer. However, he was opposed for three weeks by a mysterious entity referred to as the prince of Persia before Michael (a more powerful angel) came to aid him. The point of us being told this was that spiritual battles are real and constant, but I took something else away from it: don't give up. We live in the microwave generation. We want dinner as soon as we're hungry, we want to get wherever we're going as quickly as possible, leaving a message with someone's secretary isn't good enough, we have to call their cell phone, and our emails shouldn't wait, either, because nearly everyone can respond from their smartphone! We try to apply this same concept to prayer. We pray, and we expect some sort of instantaneous response. It doesn't always work that way.
Try another story from scripture. At the very beginning of Luke 18, Christ tells a parable about a judge and a widow. This judge is kind of a grumpy-sounding fellow, who neither fears God nor respects other people. The widow asks the judge daily for justice against her adversary. Eventually, he gets tired of her coming to him every day and grants her wish. Christ's point to the parable is that God actually does love us, so of course he will grant that which we seek, as quickly as fits the master plan. Think about how long Simeon and Anna waited to see the Christ child in the temple. Their prayers were answered, but on God's time.
Keep in mind, also, that all prayers are answered. It might be "yes," "not now," or "no." God provides us with what we need when we need it. I know that quoting a U2 song is not scripture. But I think the quote applies.
"What you don't have, you don't need it now."
In Challenge last Tuesday night, one of our leaders shared a passage that I had read several times, but never actually paid much attention to. In Daniel 10, Daniel is distraught over a vision he has had, an prays for three weeks to be strengthened. An angel of the Lord does come to him, and in verses 12-13, he tells Daniel that he had been sent at once upon the utterance of that very first prayer. However, he was opposed for three weeks by a mysterious entity referred to as the prince of Persia before Michael (a more powerful angel) came to aid him. The point of us being told this was that spiritual battles are real and constant, but I took something else away from it: don't give up. We live in the microwave generation. We want dinner as soon as we're hungry, we want to get wherever we're going as quickly as possible, leaving a message with someone's secretary isn't good enough, we have to call their cell phone, and our emails shouldn't wait, either, because nearly everyone can respond from their smartphone! We try to apply this same concept to prayer. We pray, and we expect some sort of instantaneous response. It doesn't always work that way.
Try another story from scripture. At the very beginning of Luke 18, Christ tells a parable about a judge and a widow. This judge is kind of a grumpy-sounding fellow, who neither fears God nor respects other people. The widow asks the judge daily for justice against her adversary. Eventually, he gets tired of her coming to him every day and grants her wish. Christ's point to the parable is that God actually does love us, so of course he will grant that which we seek, as quickly as fits the master plan. Think about how long Simeon and Anna waited to see the Christ child in the temple. Their prayers were answered, but on God's time.
Keep in mind, also, that all prayers are answered. It might be "yes," "not now," or "no." God provides us with what we need when we need it. I know that quoting a U2 song is not scripture. But I think the quote applies.
"What you don't have, you don't need it now."
Friday, August 2, 2013
Something You've Always(?) Wanted to Know
The more and more I bring myself to read, and to study, and to do constructive things, the more I begin asking myself deep questions. I find answers to questions I didn't even know that I had. I develop more questions, questions that could change the way I see the world, or even the way others see the world.
These are not of those questions.
What exactly is the difference between hubbub and hullabaloo? When is a get-together a shindig as opposed to a hoedown or a hootenanny?
These are not of those questions.
What exactly is the difference between hubbub and hullabaloo? When is a get-together a shindig as opposed to a hoedown or a hootenanny?
Never fear. I have these answers. I also have to point out that around two years ago when I first had the idea to start blogging, my sister told me nobody would care anything about this topic. Please prove her wrong. Well, no, that's wrong of me. It shouldn't be about proving her wrong. That's misguided. Make it about proving me right.
So, we go to the dictionary before we begin any real research. I have Google, therefore I have access to droves of etymological research on these funny-sounding words. However, I haven't so much free time that I really intend to sit here and research every detail of terms I'm pretty sure are completely made up.
You still can't get past the term "etymological," can you? Yes, I'm sure that's the study of words. You're thinking of entomology, the study of insects. Don't worry; it's a common mistake. And so is confusing hubbub and hullabaloo. See, hubbub is of Gaelic origin, meaning, most literally, "confusion" or "tumult." Hullabaloo, in the meantime, means "great noise, excitement, or uproar." Worth noting is that it is also of Scottish (therefore, probably Gaelic) origin. Why have two words for the same thing? Okay, don't answer that. Anyway, I do think it is also worth noting that originally holloballo, contrived from holla (hello) and baloo (song or lullaby). It usually refers to a protest, actually. And it makes me think of this.
Similar is the term "hoopla," a "boisterous, jovial commotion or excitement" or "extravagant publicity intended to mislead or confuse." So, in the informal sense, hoopla is excitement for the opposite reason as a hullabaloo. Best the etymologists can figure out is that it probably comes the French term meaning "upsy-daisy." No, I didn't make that up.
Now, on to the more important issue. The shindig vs. the hoedown vs. the hootenanny.
Shindig: "a festive party, often including dancing." Again, probably Scottish origin.
Hoedown: 1. "a square dance" 2. "the music for a square dance" 3. "A social gathering at which square dancing takes place." This term obviously originated in the U.S. Probably the south, but maybe Pennsylvania, apparently. I'm pretty sure somebody said something like, "C'mon, Festus, put yer hoe down an' kick up yer heels!"
Hootenanny: "an informal performance by folk singers, typically with audience participation." So that explains it. Oh, and guess what? Yup. Scottish origin.
Here's the rundown, then. If your party is festive and includes dancing, it is a shindig. If there is square dancing, it is a hoedown. A party, then, can be both a shindig and a hoedown, but if it is not, in fact, all that festive, but there is square dancing, it is, then, merely a hoedown. However, if a guy whips out his guitar, his brother Darryl arrives with a banjo, and Uncle Bill (because EVERYBODY has an Uncle Bill, amirite?) pulls out an accordion (or perhaps a concertina?), and they start singing folk tunes, you now have an hootenanny on your hands. (Huh? Yes. AN hootenanny. I'm quite sure. Look it up. Grammar Nazi.) Therefore, conceivably, your party could be all three, a shindig, a hoedown, and an hootenanny. (No, I don't know why it isn't AN hoedown. It just doesn't sound right.)
Finally, I want to bring one of my absolute favorite words into the equation. It has nothing to do with any of the other words which I have mentioned. It stands alone. It is epic. It is "bamboozled." To bamboozle is "to take in by elaborate methods of deceit, to hoodwink." And guess what? It's probably from the Scottish bombaze, meaning "perplex," which, in turn, came from the French term for a type of padding, which is also the origin of bombast. Best I can follow, the term is applied to bombastic language metaphorically, saying that one is "padding" themselves, or building themselves up beyond what they really are, which would, in fact, be deceptive, thus, bamboozled.
So, really, I think the most important lesson from this blog post is that the Scottish talk funny.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
On Fear
Whew. I didn't sleep so well last night. I had a dream that these guys were my only companions:
Well, them and some reindeer. That's what I get for reading about the Saami right before bed. Yeesh.
Anyway. Back to business. My writing last night wasn't as free-flowing as it usually is. I'm not sure what the block was, but I just couldn't round up my thoughts the way I wanted to at the end. So, before I start on any new topics, I want to tie up the loose ends from last night, which came to me as I was running this morning.
The worst part about the "Not-Good-Enough" lie is that you have no confidence because you don't experience success, and part of the reason you don't succeed is a lack of confidence. It's a vicious cycle. I understand it completely. But what is important to remember is the bitterness that it breeds, and the faithlessness that it encourages. Those are the real dangers. But I have a little secret- as soon as you become conscious of Satan's tricks, and begin mindfully praying about them and combating them, that cycle will break. That, I promise you. It may not happen immediately, but it will happen. It may be a gradual improvement, or one day after weeks of prayer, something inside of you may just snap into place. We're all individual; it varies.
C.S. Lewis brings up another mindblowing concept in Screwtape. Fear is not what we think it is. We are afraid of things happening, whether to us, or as a result of something we do. Some fear rejection or embarrassment. Some fear not being able to put food on the table. There are a lot of things people are afraid of. But fear is a distraction. Just like hunger. Just like being cold. It's a survival instinct. We're afraid of heights because we could fall, afraid of snakes because we could be bit, afraid of rejection because without other people in our lives, we will become miserable wretches (just ask Peaches and Cream up there in the birthday hats). We think that the burden associated with fear is that which we are actually afraid of. But it isn't. It is the fear itself. I think we would find that if what we fear actually happened to us, it would not be nearly so distressing as the constant burden of fear we carry around. Besides that, on a spiritual level, are we not told a kajillion times to not be afraid? Isn't fear a lack of faith? Isn't that Satan's aim?
I'm not judging any of you. I am every bit as afraid of certain things in my life as you are of different things in yours. But I implore you to take heart. Put aside your fear and your doubt. Don't let yourself be drug into bitterness by your feelings of inadequacy. Don't be drug into arrogance by your feeling of entitlement that comes with the realization that you are "equal." Don't fall for Satan's lies. I ask this of all of you that we might encourage each other. I want to face my fears. You want to face yours. There are others who won't have the courage to try until they see us break the patterns of Satan's lies in our lives. That's not an easy thing. But C.S. Lewis states it best, so powerfully that it almost moves me to tears.
Well, them and some reindeer. That's what I get for reading about the Saami right before bed. Yeesh.
Anyway. Back to business. My writing last night wasn't as free-flowing as it usually is. I'm not sure what the block was, but I just couldn't round up my thoughts the way I wanted to at the end. So, before I start on any new topics, I want to tie up the loose ends from last night, which came to me as I was running this morning.
The worst part about the "Not-Good-Enough" lie is that you have no confidence because you don't experience success, and part of the reason you don't succeed is a lack of confidence. It's a vicious cycle. I understand it completely. But what is important to remember is the bitterness that it breeds, and the faithlessness that it encourages. Those are the real dangers. But I have a little secret- as soon as you become conscious of Satan's tricks, and begin mindfully praying about them and combating them, that cycle will break. That, I promise you. It may not happen immediately, but it will happen. It may be a gradual improvement, or one day after weeks of prayer, something inside of you may just snap into place. We're all individual; it varies.
C.S. Lewis brings up another mindblowing concept in Screwtape. Fear is not what we think it is. We are afraid of things happening, whether to us, or as a result of something we do. Some fear rejection or embarrassment. Some fear not being able to put food on the table. There are a lot of things people are afraid of. But fear is a distraction. Just like hunger. Just like being cold. It's a survival instinct. We're afraid of heights because we could fall, afraid of snakes because we could be bit, afraid of rejection because without other people in our lives, we will become miserable wretches (just ask Peaches and Cream up there in the birthday hats). We think that the burden associated with fear is that which we are actually afraid of. But it isn't. It is the fear itself. I think we would find that if what we fear actually happened to us, it would not be nearly so distressing as the constant burden of fear we carry around. Besides that, on a spiritual level, are we not told a kajillion times to not be afraid? Isn't fear a lack of faith? Isn't that Satan's aim?
I'm not judging any of you. I am every bit as afraid of certain things in my life as you are of different things in yours. But I implore you to take heart. Put aside your fear and your doubt. Don't let yourself be drug into bitterness by your feelings of inadequacy. Don't be drug into arrogance by your feeling of entitlement that comes with the realization that you are "equal." Don't fall for Satan's lies. I ask this of all of you that we might encourage each other. I want to face my fears. You want to face yours. There are others who won't have the courage to try until they see us break the patterns of Satan's lies in our lives. That's not an easy thing. But C.S. Lewis states it best, so powerfully that it almost moves me to tears.
We may have to endure that which we fear. But I'd rather do that than deal with the fear.
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