So, I used to blog like everyday...it started in high school, when I was 15 and got my first computer and an account on opendiary.com. I wrote daily, religiously, sometimes more than once a day, and kept it up for years. I've had various other blogs on other sites and have kept journals on paper since I was 5. But as life got busier, with college and jobs and crap, I stopped blogging. I haven't written a blog since March of last year, almost a year ago. And I've noticed a correlation in that when I stop blogging, everything falls apart. Coincidence? Probably. But I'm not taking any more chances.
Maybe no one will ever read this, but I'm startin over, a whole new blog, to chronicle the crap and joys of life, because apparentley I need it, it's like free therapy. And Lord knows I could use a therapist but can't afford one. But there's something soothing about typing narcistic chronicles of your daily life and sending it out into cyberspace for the world to see...or not see.
So.
The last year and few months of my life have literally been theworstyearofmylife. I'm a girl, like everyone, who's gone through a lot of crap--alcoholic dad who died while driving drunk when I was 11, loosing all my grandparents to cancer/heart disease before I was 16, more car problems than anyone I know, a cancer scare when I was 13, etc etc etc...but the last year takes the cake. In the last year:
-I saw my mom become disabled from a back injury (and painfully rehabilitated, thank God); saw my step-dad go off the deep-end and stop supporting my mom and become abusive both verbally and through utter neglect;
-I helped my mom leave said abusive step-dad and move into an apartment with her after loosing thousands of dollars thanks to said step-dad so now every day is a struggle for us financially;
-I saw my little (step)brother marry, impregnate, and then become abusive to and divorce his high-school sweetheart;
-I had said brother then quit speaking to me (and Mom), believing she/I had taken his ex-wife's side, and he took step-dad's side, and it's all a big mess. (My brother is now in Afghanistan and has a daughter, and I've still not been able to speak to him, because he ignores all calls/texts/ Facebook messages--it's heartbreaking to say the least.)
-My beloved cat died.
-My best friend moved away.
-One car died, I got a new car, and that car required a new engine...Now I just feel like I'm rambling/whining. I realize that every life is full of pain, and no one has things easy, ever, and if they do it's not for long...it's just been a lot. And it never seems to quit, ever.
There where of course some good things. In the midst of this terrible year I somehow got through paramedic school, and in the course of that course, a year-long uber-challenging program filled with clinicals and death and ambulance rides and excitment and arrythmias and stress, I found my heart's calling and what I was meant to do. I was definatley born to be a paramedic, because I'm just crazy enough to enjoy the rush that comes with being called to the unknown and stepping into chaos and trying to create order. I love it, I love it, I love it. So as much as I lost, there where many blessings and gains.
I remember a couple years ago one of my Bible study friends at the time was experiencing the divorce of her parents, and she told us that she felt like God was ripping away each and every part of her life, until she clung to Him, to make her realize that He was all she needed. My dear friend Karen (the one who moved away) and I discussed this last year and how it paralleled my own life, and how maybe that's what He was/is doing to/for me. I agreed, but I am stubborn. I am a paramedic, I am a control freak, I see chaos and it is my job to create order--and so I resist, time and time again, and I ignore the call of the ultimate Rescuer, the Lover of my Soul. He only wants me to call 911, to call Him, and to let Him be my rescuer. One of the things I most fell in love with about my future profession when I was on my internship is the feeling, the priviledge, of being able to go into a perfect stranger's home, to see them on their own kitchen floor or living room couch, scared and in pain, and to see that look of relief in their eyes--it's an audible sigh, an 'oh thank goodness someone's here, I will be OK'...and they will be, because you are there, you will help them, I will help them, it's why they called and why I came. It's so humbling and moving...you are their rescuer, I am their rescuer.
So why is it so hard for me to acknoweldge MY Rescuer? Why do I resist? Daily I fall, I fail, I am scared and need help, I need resucitating...and I could call out to Him, I have His 911 on speed dial, He is only a call, a shout, a cry away...and I am simply to stubborn to pick up the phone or open my mouth. Until I hit rock bottom. Daily I hit rock bottom, and daily He resucitates me. He has too, there is no other way.
At work the other day there was a patient who was blind, and I watched as he let the ER Service Rep guide him to his ER room. A perfect stranger, whose face he couldn't even see, and trustingly he took the Rep's arm and faithfully let him guide him to a Treatment Room. I have never been so jealous as I watched that literally blind, trusting faith. Everything in my life is a struggle because I am too stubborn and scared to to have such a faith. Yes I'm a Christian, yes I believe, and I've gotten a lot better, grown a lot in my faith, but it's in the little things that I have such a hard time letting go and letting God. A blind patient can willingly let a strange hospital employee guide him to a room and desperate patients will gladly call 911 and put their whole lives in a perfect stranger's hands to get help, get stabilized, and be whiscked to a hospital....but I resist and hold on to my control almost to the death from a God who has lovingly proved Himself to me time and time again!...it's sad, amazing, and human. It's a struggle.
I'm a work in progress, as is my life and career, and it's all a gift from God. Sometimes a gift with damaged wrapping, but a beautiful and unique present is inside, even when I don't see it that way. So I'm going to blog about it on here, and if you choose to read it, I hope you see Him.
My mom bought me Matt Maher's CD 'Alive Again' before I left for my internship in Rochester, MN, because she'd heard the song 'Alive Again' on KLove and it reminded her of paramedics finding patients, and God finding us, and I listened to it all the way there. It's an amazing song about Him saving us, how He resucitates us, daily.
http://www.klove.com/lyrics/lyrics.asp?2991
Thanks for reading.
~M
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Oi, I didn't know that part about your brother. I hope he comes around and that your Christ-like love plays a part in that. My life hasn't been as stressful, but like you, I've been realizing recently how much I need the Rescuer do what needs to be done and to trust him with everything. It's a daily struggle, but thankfully his mercies are new every morning =)
ReplyDeleteAlso, just to comment on the blog page: Looks good and of course you'd have a Grey's quote, lol! The 1st verse you have on the side is what I've been going over recently in my quiet time.
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