A Pat on the Back

I’ve made it around a corner or two! The road is winding. I made it through two days of orientation. That was a breeze compared to my first 12 hour shift that I had yesterday. Now things have moved up to a whole new level and it is okay. Can you believe it? Really, it is okay. I can feel God patting me on the back, kind of saying, “I knew you would be alright, I am always here for you.” What a good feeling to know that He is with me. I wish that I had always known that.

In my blogging I don’t do a whole lot of reflecting on the past, at least I haven’t opened up that door yet. I see the door. I am tempted to open it. For anyone getting to know me through my blogging, I think that it would be maybe interesting to know some of the things I have gone through in my past, yet, I linger in front of the door, with my hand stretched out towards it, but hesitant.

Sometimes it is good for people to know you as you are and not to define you by your past. It really feels good sometimes to go into a local store or grocer and know that you probably won’t run in to a single person that knew you back when, you know, back when things were, well, different. It may be odd that I even think of that. It is something that I consider when I think about moving to a different part of town where old classmates and people from the past are more likely to pop up. It really isn’t about what they will think, but it is about what I will think about when I see them. It is about the memories that will creep up. It is about the memories and feelings that I have stuffed into the little recesses of my brain. (I am glad our brains have all of those little squiggly nooks and crannies, that way there is a lot of room for stuffing things we want to forget!)

Our past defines us and shapes us, the Lord has used that time to bring us to where we are now. Maybe it is important for people to know those things, to put the labels out there and let people pick one up if they want to. It could possibly help someone, right? I mean, that might just be why God allowed me to go through it in the first place! Maybe it will be therapeutic to tell some of my “story”, the story I have so far.

I think I will chew on this idea some more. I do know, that through every post and every story that any of us tells, it is sending a piece of ourselves out into the world. It puts us in a vulnerable spot, but it is good, it helps to connect us. We need that connection, we need each other so much. And we need to be reminded that God was with us and is with us, always.

She"ll Be Coming ‘Round the Corner

She”ll be coming round the corner when she comes. . .Ye haw!
When I will actually come around the corner, no body knows, but I must be approaching.
I want to get off my pity pot now, although I am sure I will revisit this friendly spot, it is getting old. I am fatigued by my fear. Fear has come to haunt me and pull at my heart; it’s nails dig in and pull against my chest, I feel it scraping. . .but I have to ignore the pull. If I give in to it, then I am no stronger than I was yesterday or one year ago, or two. If I give in, then I am not relying on my faith at all. How I want to crumble and fall into a heap in the corner. . .I would be fine there, really! It is okay to leave me there!
How about crawling under the covers. . .will you find me there? Oh wait, that is so predictable of me. . .okay. . .here is the deal: In less than 48 hours I will have completed my first obstacle in the “real world”. I will have awakened myself at an atrociously early hour and arrived at my first day of orientation for my new job. I will have spent 9 hours away from home and thinking of things mostly not related to home. I can expect that I will be quite tired and I will have one more day of orientation ahead. I think it will be then that I will have come around the corner, or nearing it at least.
This fear, this fear of going back into the working world is growing by the day and I am letting it have way too much space in my mind. I am focusing on it, as if it is the only thing going on and as if I am facing some kind of grueling form of torture, which is debatable, but most likely not defined as torture. I am straightening out my spine, holding my head high, and going to take something for my nausea. Just kidding, I am not actually going to take anything for my nausea, but I will be taking something for my anxiety, thank you very much.
I’ll let you know when I get around the corner.