Expectations, The Collect, and The Canary

I settled down in my chair on the beach convinced today's reading would be easy. I once again opened Laurie Brock's book Horses Speak of God, and damn if the chapter I started reading didn't talk about praying for our enemies and forgiving those who hurt us. I even wrote in the margin, "Damnit I don't want to pray for her!" I could feel my heat rising and not just from the sun. Fortunately on the very next page Brock writes, "Unicorns did not dance with rainbows surrounding the earth, and none of the people I prayed for will be invited to dine at my personal table anytime soon, but I will sit with them at God's table." (p. 54) What a relief!!!

Whew--got that over with. Surely the next few chapters will be easy...will I ever learn?

Several chapters later, the chapter entitled Collect, says this, "I feel scattered and unbalanced, too much of me pulled forward by the expectations of others and too little of my own energy grounding me to God. I carry a deep, buried need to be loved and to be useful to people in my life, likely because I carry wounds connecting my value solely to how others value me." (p. 63). I shouted, "AMEN!" (Which could have been embarrassing considering I was sitting on the beach by myself, but the couple next to me had been loudly fighting and I had been convincing myself not to get up and go offer pastoral counseling, so in the grand scheme of things shouting Amen was really no big deal.)

Just reading those words brought back a host of feelings and frankly are a large part of the reason I'm down here...problem is I couldn't leave my thoughts and feelings, or this gosh darn book that is both challenging and amazing in Kentucky....

Just over a year ago I saw someone walking towards me and all I could think was, "Please don't talk to me. I cannot listen to you right now." Immediately as I thought these words shame washed over me in buckets. This person was one of the kindest, most loving, most giving people I know and yet at that moment the thought of having to interact with said person sent anger and irritation coursing through my veins. I realized in that moment, I was spent. I had nothing left to give and needed some time to myself, so I went home and ironed.

As I was ironing, and let's be honest, berating myself for feeling anything less than unconditional love for the entire human species, I thought, "_________is my canary in the coal mine." Like a canary in the coal mines, _____alerts me to danger, but for me the danger isn't around me; the danger is within me. The danger of losing myself.

I'm going to be honest here---I didn't graduate that day from the school of reasonable expectations. I tried; oh how I tried, but instead I just dallied in a few classes and most of them I either withdrew from or failed.

Take the class "Instant Communication." The description of this class is, "You don't have to respond to every text, email, phone call, social media posts or even conversation instantly." One of the learning goals was, "learning to be present." I thought this would be an easy A. I also knew this was a class my family was dying for me to take and pass--I'm pretty sure they knew it wouldn't be with an A.

I began to leave my phone in the kitchen when our family was in the dining or living room.
I tried to leave it in my purse when we were out (I did cheat sneaking a peek when Chris would go the rest room....), and while at work I tried to focus on what I was doing--not glancing at my phone during meetings or even when I was deeply involved. I thought I was doing a pretty good job until....

I began to get questions and comments from others--questions and comments like, "Are you alright?" "Are we alright?" "You aren't responding as quickly as usual." "You don't seem to want to interact much anymore." And instead of basking in my classroom success, I wallowed in my feelings of being a failure as a person--of letting people down--of not being enough.

I could write more and more about this year and the unreasonable expectations I put on myself, and to be truthful some unreasonable (not as many) expectations put on me by others. I could write more and more about feeling like I'm not good enough, but that's not the point.

As I sat on the beach I realized I allowed it to happen and I have to take responsibility for the fall out. I let the feelings of insecurity, sadness, and yes even anger wash over me, and I realized I needed to fix it. As Brock writes, "Oh yes, I need to collect myself." (p.66). But she continues "Or, more correctly, I need to allow God to collect me. I need God to remind me to take time and find the parts of myself and my soul that have been stretched too far by demands and expectations, both mine and others, and bring them back to center. I need God to pull my intellect and heart closer together, to connect them, so I could move through this muck that was currently stagnating me." (p.66)

And that's where I really failed--I stopped connecting with God. I blamed it on time, on life circumstances, on other relationships. But the truth, the cold hard truth is I didn't want to because I wasn't sure I wanted to hear what God had to say. I liked believing I was super woman; I liked believing I had it all together; I liked believing there was nothing I couldn't do. I didn't want to hear God tell me to just stop and to be still. I didn't want to hear God say, "You do not have it all together." Because I forgot; I forgot God doesn't think I'm not enough even if and when I don't have it altogether. God continues, "I do" and "my grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

So I'm going to head back down to the beach this morning knowing as Brock writes, "God collects me back into myself." And I'm going to keep reading this book...