|photo credit: Éole via photopin cc|
Since Riley's birth in 2008 and my really wild post partum anxiety/OCD part of the journey, I feel like I've been walking some of the strongest and most peaceful parts of this alpine path that I have walked in my whole life. I've named all my dragons. I've built some strong weapons. I've fought hard for inner calm, and been carried so wholly by Love, from God, from Brent, from all corners, that I've won.
The thing that drew me to Brent so magnetically in the beginning was how much peace he brought me. And he continues to give me peace on a daily basis. We tease each other and get on each others' nerves and push each others' buttons: we're married. Not angels. But we only really FIGHT once or twice a year. Usually about housework. I can fall deep inside this peaceful man and feel so loved, daily. Good LORD am I lucky.
Probably precisely because I'm in such a stable place on the journey, I've been feeling it was time to do some "work" on myself. This fall I had a number of significant dreams and memories surface regarding my childhood. I had loving parents who are incredibly committed to family, and good people who raised us well. But I grew up with alcoholism and some significant mental illness. I felt like I coped, as a kid. I had a happy childhood, and we all tried the best we knew to love each other well. But it started catching up to me.
Part of the prodding I felt last fall from God to pull a Haggai and "rebuild His house" was to address some of the stuff that was surfacing. I felt like God was pulling it up out of the depths of me, and my job was to follow His call to pay attention to it.
Being the resourceful type, and fond of resources that emphasize individual boot strap hauling, I started going to an Al-Anon group in my area in January. I've been four times. I also called a counselor who came with a very good recommendation and started seeing her. I've been twice. She's amazing. Al-anon is amazing. I've walked four thousand emotional miles in six weeks, it has blown my mind. I bought a new real, live papermates journal and a new Bic pen and am making serious inroads into keeping these companies in business, I'm writing so much. It feels like something I want to keep folded within myself, mostly to protect my heart, but I'm also experiencing so much self discovery that I had to at least share with you what I'm up to. Some days, I feel like a manatee hauling myself up on a dock somewhere, shocked, cold, totally bewildered. Mostly I feel like I'm coming home to myself. Taking out parts and learning to love them. Putting one foot in front of the other on the path, and rebuilding something big.
But God doesn't say, "Come when you have your shit together," He says, "Come, follow me*" and "I am with you**." So I go. Breathless. One foot, then the other.