... She Reflects & Repents

How am I doing? 

If it was anyone else besides the internet asking me this, I would say, "Great!" and flash my megawatt smile and turn the conversation on them. 

But that's not really how I am. 

I am lonely. Tired. Bummed. Confused. 

God is stretching me almost to my breaking point.  

Ever since Dad died, I feel this entitlement to joy, happiness, and an easy life. I experienced death in an incredibly upclose and personal way. In America, most people don't die until their too old to care about going on living. My dad was 45. That is ridiculously young.  My peers have no idea about the depth of death. The burden. It is always in the back of your mind. The anxiety, fear, grief, and anger threatening to overcome at any moment. The physical aspect. For months after dad died, I had flashbacks and searing flashes of pain. PTSS (Post Traumatic Stress Syndrom is the official name. It is often found in rape victims or military personel)   

This mental battle is enough. I don't need anymore discomfort. 

But The Lord is faithful to rip away my entitlements and show me that He desires more from me. 

This summer, in one word, sucks. All I do is go to work and help my mom (she jokes I'm acting like her wife). While it is definitely what I need to do, it is hard to have such a narrow life. The women at my work keep asking me if I'm having any fun this summer. I say of course and list off the really fun things I have done (One Direction Concert, Bay trip, seeing a musical and camp). What they don't understand, nor anyone else, is that those "fun" things were bookended with the work of life. The fun is kind of sapped from them. When I try to see my friends, they are all busy or have made other plans with each other. I literally have no social life. 

At least I have my sisters. They're wonderful. Most of the time. Hannah and I definitely have our moments of hating each other and Meg and I argue over clothes constantly, but I still love them. And we have a lot of fun together. Like last night. We were suppose to be purging our bathrooms of junk (so when people look through our house they aren't appalled and so moving is easier). The purge turned into a spa night mixed into cleaning out our bathrooms. 

This lack of social life and having to choose to do the hard thing over the fun thing is breaking me. It is stripping me of my entitlements and forcing me to become an adult.

It's hard not to resent my mom or God. I really don't want to loose my entitlements and I want to have fun. They are forcing me not to. 

In true confession, I don't want to spend time with either of them, because they will convict me of my resentment and despondent heart. 

I DON'T WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS. 

I love my mom. 

I love my Lord Jesus. 

I hate myself for resenting them. 

How do I change my heart? 

I can't, but Lord you are faithful. Please, change my heart. Help to see my purpose this summer and have a joyful heart regardless of my circumstances. You are faithful and good.

xoxo, 

The Blonde

Psalm 51:1-12

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity
and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight;
so you are right in your verdict
and justified when you judge.
Surely I was sinful at birth,
sinful from the time my mother conceived me.
Yet you desired faithfulness even in the womb;
you taught me wisdom in that secret place.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins
and blot out all my iniquity.

Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence
or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

... She Just Complains.

So. 

Funny story. 

I wanted boots for Christmas (like these). 

Instead, I just have one.

And it's plastic - not leather.

And I can't wear it for more then 10 minutes or my foot swells up.

Why am I enduring this tragedy? Well. I loading up my car to come home from school (isn't this how every exciting story starts?). I was humming Christmas songs and generally thrilled to be leaving the dehumanizing place some like to call college (and the best years of your life - what a joke). There is a stairwell right next to my room that goes out into a tiny alley. I decided to pull my car in the alley and load it there. Less work and more convenient. 

I'm brilliant.

Not.

So I decided (to be more time efficient) to take all my stuff down the stairs right at the door to the alley. Success! I prop the door open and take my first bag out to the car.

I come back in and hear the alarm saying "Please shut door 7. Please shut door 7."

So. The ally isn't going to work. 

Then, I took everything back upstairs and to the other door. I had to push the very heavy door all the way open with my foot.

Everything was fine.

Then I walked back to my room and grabbed a huge handful of clothes.

I was walking to my car when I guess I stepped funny and broke my foot and sprained muscles in my foot. 

So, my first Christmas without my dad, I am stuck in a boot/with crutches, unable to exercise, cannot go far because of the swelling and pain, possibly not going to NYC, and 2 days after New Years I am getting my wisdom teeth removed.

Yup. 

It sucks.

Keeping it classy with a boot.

My mom pointed out that this might be God's way to making me be still and deal with my grief. But quite honestly,

I don't want to. 

I just want to have fun and make memories with my family, Philip, and my friends. I don't want to think about how much this sucks and hurts (now both literally and physically).

I don't want to call myself depressed. But I am struggling with feeling very despondent - and I have been for about a month. I try not to think about how I am feeling because then it makes it worse. So, I keep busy and surrounded with people. 
But I hate feeling sad - maybe that's what causes depression. Fighting too hard against the hardness of life instead of acknowledging it.

So here I am.

Lying in my bed.

Surrounded by the French I should be studying.

My foot propped up on some pillows with some ice. 

Tears lingering on my face.

And I am acknowledging that life just straight up sucks. But I can't fight it anymore. I can't fight the reality that my dad is gone from this world forever. I can't fight the fact that I hate my school. I can't fight the fact that I am scared to tell people how I am really feeling. I can't fight that complete change my life has undergone in the past 9 months. I can't fight the frustration that comes with a long distance relationship. I can't fight my lactose intolerance. I can't fight the fact that my foot is broken. I can't fight the fact that my family feels unorganized and lost. I can't fight the fact that I am lonely. I can't fight the overwhelming grief that will consume me at any given moment.

But I can also acknowledge that God is good. Somehow. Someway. My life feels like a train wreak. Problem upon problem piling up. But
He
Is
Good. 

He's destroying me and my idols to make something beautiful.

At least I hope so.

Because without that hope - life would be completely and utterly overwhelming.

So I complained a lot. 

But I feel better.

Writing is good for the soul, isn't it - vast world out there?