That One Time At Church

You wake up at 6:30 in the morning and lay there looking outside through the small corner that the cardboard on the window doesn't cover. You rub your sore back remembering the routine each night. The many times you twist and turn and readjust your pillows to a position that will give your back and neck the least bit of discomfort. You remember how you lay and wait until that moment of defeat creeps in; when the exhaustion becomes stronger than you and you drift off. Your dogs now knowing you’re awake come to the front of the car where you lay to greet you good morning just to then crawl their way into your blanket to get warm again. Your body resists the coming moments of beginning the day but your bladder is screaming at you otherwise. Everyone is awake now and the process of folding blankets and stuffing pillows into a corner begins. You drive to a park nearby where plenty of other people just waking up without homes go as well. You walk rapidly to the restrooms to release. You then begin the search for an outfit with the small amount of wrinkly clothes you have stuffed into a bag. You’re tired but the suns shining and the breeze is soft and cool so you look up to the trees then keep going. When you are all done eating cereal and getting dressed you all hop into the car and drive. And so then the day begins.

This past Sunday, I went to church, even though I had already given myself permission all week before hand not to go to but for some odd reason I woke up with this tickle inside me that kept on nudging me into the direction of church. I walked in and stood in the back as per usual. The toddlers scurrying towards the snacks then to and away from their loved ones while the bigger kids paint and color. Then as the worship band began there it was. I felt as if my heart had been replaced with a 40 pound brick. OH, I thought to myself this is the same heaviness poets write about. It’s not as if I've never felt it before it’s just that this time around it was much different. I had felt this deep, sad, heaviness and instead of feeling like I was drowning a strange thing happened; I felt peace releasing itself into my veins. I don’t know how sadness or pain happens to you but mine doesn't usually come conjoined at the hip with peace. After it all maybe sure but never with it. I felt so still and safe inside myself; inside the chaos, the sadness, pain and disappointment. I stood in confusion and great fear for the rest of the service. A few friends came up to me before, during and after service each of them with their kind eyes and gentle smiles. Each one insisting they just wanted to see and hug me. One after another as if taking turns they’d come to me and deliver to me love. Each and every time reminding me why I believe in friendship so fiercely. Reminding me why when I leave I always come back; for the snacks, of course. I don’t think I could ever tire of those people and their gorgeous smiles coming to hug me. I don’t know why or how I came to feel this stillness in the middle of chaos but it’s one of those great beautiful mysteries I’m just going to let the universe have; right alongside Beyoncé and pie.

Perhaps that was the divine itself giving me a hug or maybe it was me losing my basket of sanity muffins, I don’t know. I do know is that when the lyric came on screen about waiting for God to come rescue me I did not sing along. I stood there by myself in snotty silent protest. I remember a time I did believe in a rescue of sorts but then I woke up to the reality of being in the same spot. I don’t believe that God wants us to believe that we aren't strong or brave or bad-ass enough to get through really tough times. The days of believing in being rescued are long gone for me. I believe in my friends and their friendship being the stitches that hold me together when I can’t stop falling apart, that’s Gods will to me. I believe in rising up to the fear we tinker with and then no longer letting it control you, that’s Gods will to me. I believe in myself and my ability to get through some really overwhelmingly difficult crap. That God knows I can rescue myself time and time again from the pit holes of life. I believe God is betting on me, on us because he knows just how much shit we can go through and come out of, alive and well.

I'm tired and I'm ready to give up. Yeah, it doesn't get much realer than that. Earlier this week I had a long moment in which I considered giving up. I thought what if this is it?? What if it never works out or gets better?? What if my efforts will never be enough?? What if all our hopes of things like SSI for my mom and Celest don't work out and what if I can't get past all my fear from past traumas. What if I get a quick job and end up going into deep depression again?? So many what ifs and all I could think was yeah I'm ready to give up, I'm ready to give in, to surrender, to admit that I've been defeated. I even stared at a beer bottle a second too long and it terrified the crap out of me. This wasn't who I was. I don't run from things and surely do not give up because its gotten too hard. Its gotten to that point where I've honestly considered giving in. I remember thinking to myself "HOLY SHIT! I'm losing my grip. I'm losing my grip on hope." Hopelessness could easily be a couple steps to my left but I wouldn't know that because the lines are all blurred. I am walking by faith believing that a creative solution is out there waiting for me to discover it to get us out of this. I'm stumbling my way along. Finding my way through the fog all while fighting quite fiercely the urge to give up, to give in. Because this will not be the end. This will not be what becomes of my story.

Friendship is my most treasured possession. It is the best way for me to describe the divine here on earth. Even though I love to be by myself I am so obsessed with connecting  and being with my people. That is what makes me shake off the thoughts of giving up. Sometimes friendship is what saves me. Its what opens my hand and allows me get a better grip on this hope thing.

That peace I felt streaming through my veins was just what I needed. It reminded me that I GOT THIS. I am doing just fine. Peace is not as far away from me as it can sometimes feel. Its right here, flowing inside my veins. Pumping itself through that beating heart of mine. I GOT THIS. God knows that, in fact she sends me my friends to remind me of it.

“You are meant to fight. When you are sick, your body fights for its right to function. When you hold your breath, your body fights for its right to breathe. There are billions of tiny events—from the surface of your skin, down to the very cells of your body—that have to happen in order for you to be simply sitting here today. If your most minuscule parts haven’t given up yet, why should you?”
--N.T.

“...and then I remembered this basic religious principle that God isn't there to take away our suffering or our pain but to fill it with his or her presence...”--Anne Lamott