Truth in the Valley

I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been going through a "valley" lately. And, quite honestly, I feel ashamed of that.

Listen, I’m no Job. I have a family that all love me and we all get along marvelously (for the most part). I have a dog that is always happy to see me shuffling up the front walk. I live with four adorable children (and another two in Virginia) that I love to Pluto and back. I just got back from my second trip abroad, just for fun. I have a church family that pushes me to know Christ on a deeper level. I have a stable job with benefits. I have a car that is paid off. Goodness, I even have a nice camera and a Mac.

And, yet, I sit in my little room and feel alone, needy, unsettled, unwanted, and useless. And when it feels like my life goes dark, all of those insecurities, my wants, and failed dreams hit me repeatedly in the face like a prized fighter. Oh boy, telling yourself the Truth and preaching the Gospel to yourself while buried under 26 years of failings and misgivings just isn’t going to happen. I see that light at the top of the pit getting smaller and smaller. I desperately try to discern the reason for getting stuck in the muck at the bottom. There is always that one reason that seems to be that pea under 10 mattresses that keeps me up at night….

Single and still living with family.

Nope. I don’t have my own place. I don’t have a living room full of cutesy vintage trunks and books. I don’t have a couch for friends to sit on and watch a movie together. I don’t have a stove to explore new recipes on. I don’t have a kitchen table to decorate for a romantic dinner for my husband. I don’t have a guy that will open my car door. I don’t have any fat babies with bright eyes watching my every move. I have one room that is too full of Knick-knacks and no room to expand. I have a small armchair shoved in a corner. I have a mini fridge filled with bottled sodas for the kids. I haven’t put the comforter on my bed since I last washed it. I haven’t mopped my bathroom since last month. I sometimes forget to feed my dog. I get easily offended with family members. I get angry at the kids for being too loud. I quickly jump to conclusions and judge people wrongly. So desperate for it to not be about me, that it becomes about me.

It’s easy for me to think that if those “problems” of hearth and home would be solved, I would be complete. I wouldn’t feel useless, alone, unwanted, unsuccessful. I would want to be all the responsible I’m not now.

The person living in the basement will be the same person living in their own two story house with picket fence. The married you will be the same un-married you. The no-guy-relationship you will still have issues with personal relationships. The mother you will be just as messed up as the non-mother you.

And maybe that’s what frightens me the most:
That I will still be me. Flawed. Needy. Selfish. Untidy. Control-freak. Offended. Hurt.
The mud starts to cover my head and I stop fighting...

Could it be the problem isn’t where I am or where I’m not? Not who I’m living with or who isn’t in my life?
I don’t like that answer. It means effort. Introspection. Surrender. Change. And no “quick, put a Band-Aid on it” fix. I so much wish the answer would be that everything would fall into place if I only had my own home. If I only had that someone. If only....

Sometimes, you just don’t have the answers or the reasons. And that makes a fixer, such as myself, more frustrated than squirrel chasing a nut on a treadmill. It also means you have to be open and vulnerable with others and let them speak Truth into your life. And all the introverts shudder. At times that truth makes no sense to your pit mucked up heart. Or maybe it makes too much sense and you want to throat punch the “truth sayer.” When you are at the bottom of the pit, the cold mud becomes more comfortable than blisters it will take to climb out. And the junk food of lies often tastes better than the veggies of truth.

I don’t know where I’m going with all of this. I’m pretty much preaching to the choir. And like any normal choir member, I’m not paying attention… There’s a line in the song by Jason Gray, “Remind me who I am” that keeps resonating in my soul. “When I can't receive Your love, Afraid I'll never be enough, Remind me who I am."
This where I am. And maybe this is my own way of self-medicating myself with Truth. Take it or leave it.

Looking for Truth,

Ti-Ti