Sunday, March 14, 2010

Spoon Theory

I have waited for quite some time to update my blog. After Jenny's passing and with so much going on at work and church, I needed to wait. Even though my previous blog about Jenny was very positive, obviously things for her physical body went downhill after that posting. She will be missed.

I have posted many pictures on facebook to catch up on the snow days, retreat and other various events that have taken place in the last few months, so that is where I have chosen to keep them. For now, I am using this blog as more of a personal space to express my thoughts on my health and other things happening. So few people read my blog now (and so many are on FB) that I feel this can be more of an occasional outlet for that sort of writing. On the other hand, I won't always be a Debbie Downer. :-)

Yesterday, after a few days of having a lot of pain in my hips and hands, I found an essay written by Christine Miserandino called The Spoon Theory. She has a website (or is part of a website) that is http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/. I found this after many tears shed over the fact that I am in a position in my life right now that I simply cannot do the things I want to do and have the heart to do, without risk. Not necessarily risk to my health right now (I will wear myself out and will crash), but to my marriage, family and to my employment.

My tears in the last 36 hours have come over Music Camp. I am so happy they are wanting to do Music Camp again. I went to the meeting today and am THRILLED that Brittany is taking a leadership role and I am excited to help her (and that she is willing to let me help). She and I were able to brainstorm some awesome ideas today that I think will really be incredible. Conversely, it has been devastating to come to the realization that I cannot do what I could do two years ago. I was able to be in the room by myself with 60 kids and control them, teach them, love them and learn from them and now I know I cannot. I could teach them, but I couldn't possibly do that all day with that many kids AND discipline them AND do everything else. I am limiting myself to working with the actors and doing lines, staging and blocking. I am mentoring Brittany and passing the torch on something that I love so much it hurts. I love Brittany and trust her so much. I trust her decisions and judgement and I know she is doing this out of love for the kids. I would not want to see it any other way. Ultimately, this is another thing in my life that is this way. It is not just Music Camp, it is a list of activities in which I have had to step back and set limits. I HATE LIMITS. I want to push the limits and in the last two days, when it has been painful just to walk up my stairs, I know that setting these limits is right, but it doesn't stop hurting my heart.

It has been so hard to express to Thomas my feelings on this subject. When I found this essay, I printed it and had him read it. The author is obviously much farther along in her journey, but there is one part that describes my feelings so accurately.

"It's hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to....When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom."

I think I struggle with this because I am 32. I had a benchmark of where I was and I am in a place where I have realized I cannot reach that benchmark again. I thought losing 40+ pounds would give me just a hint of more energy. No. I thought medicine might. No. Maybe alternative therapies. No. My doctors don't think I am sick enough to really treat yet and I am stuck.

I find myself asking God why He is doing this and what my purpose is constantly. At church, we have been called to be lights of the world, but I struggle to be a light to my kids, let alone the world. Sometimes, Christians get the label of already having the light, but right now, mine is one of those little LED flashlights you get at Walmart. In my heart, I want to be a stadium light, but I just don't know how to get there right now.