Damaged?

So I grew up a long time ago. Like pretty early compared to most of the people I know. In the last few years I’ve come to be at peace with who I am, but what happened tonight made me question everything I believe to be true about myself.

1990 marked the 100th anniversary of one Orangevale Open Elementary. All I really remember is a parade and dressing up like a flapper. Or something.

I had forgotten that at the end of second grade the entire school participated in the creation of a time capsule. Until a month or so ago.

The messages started on facebook- it has been 20 years- time to open it up and see what we put inside. Soon came emails, reminders and then I had it in my calendar. Why not? It would be great to take a step back in time.
I was really excited to see old friends, and actually had a great time. I was not prepared for the aftermath.

To fully understand, I’ve got to start at the beginning.

My first day of kindergarten found me at Orangevale Open, bright eyed and excited to learn. I had several preschool pals making the journey with me, and I looked forward to circle time, show and tell and to wearing art smocks. Really.
My teacher was Jim. Yes, I called him by his first name- we all did. That was just how the school was. Casual, comfortable, friendly and like a family. Parents were very involved, and we all hugged each other. It seems normal to me, but I’m only now realizing what a truly special place it really was.

I remember crying on my last day of kindergarten, feeling so sad about leaving my beloved teacher. The irony was his daughter ended up being one of my best friends and later recalling how much I loved him became a pretty funny memory. The significance is really about how attached I was to a man. Even at 5 years old. I felt no fear in that.

Growing up at that school brought me teachers like Sally for First grade, Susie for Second, and an all time favorite, Pat for Third. Pat was a soccer player and broke her leg that year. I remember her being rolled in on her wheelchair with a cast to her hip. She was absent for a large portion of time, and a classmate’s mom filled in. That was the year I was in my first musical “The Perfect Fit”, and had my first singing solo as Morty the head elf. I tried out for the part in front of the entire class with no fear. There wasn’t much I was afraid of. Third grade was also the start of love notes and boys asking girls “out”. I’m pretty certain I got more than my fair share.

Fourth grade I learned about California history from Jill. That year I got my first pair of glasses and took my first timed math tests. I was in the new portable classroom. We ended the year as every other- the annual end of school trip to the river- Negro Bar. I think that may have been the first year of the bikini. It certainly was the year of sex ed and puppy love.

Fifth grade brought me my first torn ligament and first crush. Matt McKerras. He helped me with my books while I was on crutches. We passed notes, and once got caught by our teacher Jeanne. We didn’t get in trouble, one of many reasons that made her one of my favorites- even still. That year I understood the beginnings of the United States, and began my love of all things history. I also realized what a cool dad I had. On a overnight field trip he surprised the class and met us for pizza- on him. The boy crushing on me even told my dad he loved me. That was when I learned my face turns red when I’m humiliated.

Sixth grade brought me back to Susie. A strange year. I was fully obsessed with soccer and my friends. A born leader of the pack and a dynamic kid in any situation- I got more than my fair share of friends. I realized I could pass classes without really doing homework that year. I got braces and quit wearing the glasses. I went to my first concert that year- Billy Joel. We learned that year of the highly active parents desire to make the school a K-8. I didn’t want to leave, but I wanted to move on. After all, my home junior high school was literally across the street from my home. We ended the year with a week long trip to Yosemite. I thought I was in love, but then the summer began and the soccer field and telephone monopolized my time.

We were the guinea pig class to pilot the Seventh grade addition. We had Judi and Pat for teachers. I loved music and spending time with friends. All through the years I’d mastered the art of turning down boys. No one peaked my interest enough. I won the role of Sandy in the play “Grease”. I was a good kid, surrounded by good friends, parents of friends who all helped each other out and I felt loved, secure and believed I would have a solid future attending Stanford University on a soccer scholarship.

The school and community I came from were one of a kind. My family lived close to the school and had kids in and out on a regular basis. Kids walked home with us and stayed until sports practice, or till parents could cone get them. We all knew each other well- parents and kids alike.

And it was that summer I became damaged.

Tonight I was in a cafeteria of people who knew my dad. Many of them mentioned him. Teachers told me they will never forget my family- the loss we suffered that summer. I heard from 4 people how much I look like my dad. I stood in one spot for most of the night while parents, teachers and old friends sought me out. I heard more times than I can count how beatiful I am. I stood with a group of guys as one revealed his childhood crush on me- to which another responded “which guy in our class wasn’t in love with Beth?”. I laughed and explained how glad I was to have made school so memorable.

I laughed.

I made lots of other people laugh.

I felt like I was ME again. Leaving my heart sank. We opened a moment in history and it exposed an incredible wound I had not even seen myself.

There were girls there who cried with me the night I watched my dad die. Girls who got me my first cigarettes and introduced me to the people who introduced me to pot. Girls who knew me *before*. And know the mess I became *after*.

I’ve changed a lot in the past several years. I always believed my changes were for the good. Tonight I realized they have not all been good.

I lost myself nearly 15 years ago. There are only a handful of people who know that, and until a few hours ago, I wasn’t one of them.

I spoke with my mom, who had decided not to go, about the experience I had. I saw myself through the eyes of many people long forgotten, avoided. I was struggling to articulate what it felt like. She and I both settled on the same phrase “before I became damaged” speaking in near unison.

The words hurt. I tell myself regularly I am ok with the loss of my dad. But I am not ok with the loss of me.

I’ve been listening to the song “Healing Begins”. No one lyric has ever felt more prophetic.

I’ve spent a lot of time and money to figure out what’s wrong with me physically. I think I have my answer: there’s a size six, fearless, life loving, kick-ass athlete inside of me. I buried her deep the day we buried my dad. I think I hoped to never feel that deep of pain again.

She is inside me kicking and screaming, begging me to let her out.

I’m not sure how.

But, this feels like a start. Acknowledging how hard things have been. How hard I fought to survive. Just how much pain I am really in, and understanding that it is years and years of abandonment, betrayal, abuse, blame, rejection and fear.

I’m not ok. Which is ok. I’m writing this here, because it’s going to take a long time to heal. It’s going to take a miracle to find myself again.

Lucky for me, I know someone in the miracle business. And here is where MY healing begins.

HEALING BEGINS
Tenth Avenue North



So you thought you had to keep this up
All the work that you do
So we think that you’re good enough
And you just can’t believe it’s not enough
All the walls you built up
Are just glass on the outside

So let ‘em fall down
There’s freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We’re here now

This is where the healing begins
This is where the healing starts
When you come to the broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark

Afraid to let your secrets out
Everything that you hide
Can come crashing through the door now
But too scared to face all your fear
So you hide but you find
That the shame won’t disappear

Sparks will fly as grace collides
With the dark inside of us
So please don’t fight
This coming light
Let this blood come over us
His blood can cover us

God uses UPS too?

Sometimes the best gifts come when you least expect them. Actually, they seem to make for incredible surprises and always arrive right on time. Tonight I got a gift. That out of the blue, totally amazing, just what you needed even though you didn’t know you needed it kind of gift.

My oldest friend in the world is Nicole. She’s actually several months younger than me, but we’ve been friends since the day she was born. We were bald babies together, spent summer afternoons soaking in the pool or running around like banchees at the park. Our parents have been dear friends since high school, the sort of friends who end up being family. Nicole and I grew up in different towns, went to different schools, and spent many years nit seeing each other more that 2 or 3 times a year. The miracle of our second generation friendship is that we have a keen ability to pick up each time exactly where we left off the last. A few years ago I went on a cruise with a bunch of girlfriends- I stayed a couple extra days in San Diego with Nicole, just catching up. Last summer she cane and spent an afternoon with me after I had surgery- just because. And a couple weeks later I watched her walk down the aisle and become a wife. She’s the kind of friend I’ll probably never speak to every day- but she’s the kind that will be in my life forever.

Back to my gift. Let me preface with the fact that this has been an incredibly tough week for me. I have been feeling really discouraged and alone. I’m struggling in my home with feelings of hurt. And tonight I just wanted to be alone in my room- finally get some peace and just rest. Well, life doesn’t really ask me what I want, and clearly God had intended a very special reminder of his tender love for me. Had it been a great week, tonight would have just not been the same.

I was getting ready to leave and saw the UPS truck out front. At 7:00 mind you. My roommate got very excited and knew that he was bringing her new camera. Well he had two packages. One was her camera, the other was for me.

I was so confused! I knew I had not ordered anything recently, certainly nothing from Barnes & Noble. I opened the box and there it was: Living Gluten-Free for Dummies!

I looked at the shipping label. To me, from Nicole. My oldest friend. God used her in a time of weakness to show me His grace and provision. Out of the blue she thought of me. God must gave put me on her heart. And I am truly blessed.

I’m just SO in love with the Father and thankful for the constant reminders of how big He really is.

Thank you, Nicole. Thank you, UPS guy. And mostly thank you Jesus. I would be list in so many ways without you.

Guardian

Last night I had my dear friend Lisa over for dinner. I had expected for it to be a time of connection and laughter, for just catching up and enjoying life together. Obviously our Father had some bigger plans.

Last night I recieved a gift. And although it was from my friend, I knew in my spirit that it was inspired by God. Lisa has been a part of my journey for many years. She knows of my pain and of my triumph. She has held my hand through difficult choices I’ve made, encouraged me in moments of confusion, and had prayed for me more faithfully than anyone else I know. It’s safe to say that Lisa truly knows me. She loves me. And I am incredibly blessed to have such an amazing friend.

In the past months, I have confided in Lisa about my struggles in becoming healthy. She knows how depressed I became while coming to terms with having Celiac Disease. She asks me the tough questions, like if I am tempted to fall back into unhealthy coping skills. She was one of the few honest friends who helped me understand how frustrating I was to be friends with when I chose not to acknowledge my ADHD. She was honest when I hurt her feelings and when I let her down.

Last night after our dinner, where Lisa tried my gluten free pasta dish with no fear, she gave me a card and a package. I opened the card and read the small piece of paper included. It talked about the meaning of my name, the Hebrew context.

The meaning of the word my name is derived from means the following: house, shelter, home and family. I read it and could not stop crying as I connected the recent visions I’ve received to the deeper meaning of my name. It was like confirmation of my purpose.

Next I read the card. At the end it said “May you never forget the moment of your divine commissioning and may you always hold fast to the promises God has given you surrounding this. He has called you a GUARDIAN, and that is forever what you will be. Lives will be changed because of your presence, your touch, and your love.”

Again, cue the tears.

Finally I opened the box. In it was the best gift ever. A WillowTree figurine named “guardian. Love and Protect thee, forever”.

I saw the sweetness of God in this gift. I have seen so many WillowTree figurines over the years- with each one causing a secret desire to have one of my own. I would always tell myself: someday you’ll be a mother and then you can have one.

I was wrong. I have one now, a reminder of His amazing grace and provision. I’m in awe.

The woman sitting on the Rock, holding the promised baby in her arms, eyes closed singing softly to bring him comfort. It’s a vision of me.

And I have a friend who believes with me. For this gift, I am truly humbled.

Dinner with Purpose

Dinner invitation. Themed food. Creativity. New friends.
This night had the makings of something incredible! But, in all of my highest expectations, I could have never dreamed what would transpire- or that one evening would be catalyst for total transformation!!

Kristen is a newer friend. She’s a member of Flood and if her involvement in recent awakenings is any indicator- we have an incredible friendship in the works…

She invited me to her parents home for dinner. I know Ron and Terry and love them, so I was thrilled to be able to go. Kristen emailed me ‘details’ about the dinner later in the week. Here were her words:

Hey there lady.
Just wanted to give you an update on Saturday’s dinner: people are meeting at my parents’ house at 6:30.
Also, I think I told you that we’re having what my family refers to as a “passover dinner,” but here are the details again. My mom is making the main course, but everyone who comes is in charge of bringing one food item (an appetizer, dessert, or drink) to share. This item should be symbolic to you- representing your feelings about 2010. Interpret that however you want and have fun!

See you on Saturday,
Kristen

Well, interpret I did. I decided to make a salad that represented my hopes and dreams for the new year.

It was made with baby greens, jicama, tomatoes, carrots, red bell peppers, cucumbers, cranberries and a homemade dressing. And of course, each of the parts had symbolism.

Base: baby greens.
I chose baby greens because they are the opposite of what I have become. I feel like the last few years have depleted me of my energy, fight, and really, every thing with purpose. I have become like iceberg lettuce. I do believe, however, that despite my current state the Father sees me as mixed baby greens, because He sees me through the Son. I hope that this year I start to see myself as rich, nutrient filled, colorful and healthy- just like those mixed baby greens.

Now, in reality, this salad is enough. It does not need anything else. But, in my boldness I asked for more.

Topping 1: cucumber.
Cucumber is cool, used to soothe tired eyes and has a refreshing property. I want that kind of year- one of rejuvenation.

Topping 2: carrots.
Carrots are known for improving eyesight. What I need is vision. Not the physical kind, though improvements there would be welcome as well. Historically, He speaks to me through dreams and visions. These pictures provide me with guidance, and help me know where I am going. Really they function as a compass- it shows me where I am lining up, and I know when I am off course. I need vision. I’m list and stuck in the past and I need to know where I am going.

Topping 3: red bell peppers.
Hot, fire, passion, and sweetness. I am a passionate person by nature, but amidst my derailment I have lost this too. I used to be passionate about SO many things, and now I feel apathetic to most things. I want renewed passion- something setting my soul on fire, something that propels me into greatness!

Topping 4: jicama
Jicama has an ugly exterior, but a sweetness inside. I have let myself become soft on the outside, easily bruised and sensitive to hurt. I’ve also hardened my heart. I’ve pushed my friends away and isolated myself in an effort to protect my spirit. I desire to become more like the jicama- tough flesh, but soft and sweet heart.

Topping 5: tomatoes
Tomatoes have always perplexed me. I think they should be vegetables, but they are a fruit. I don’t understand this, and I certainly do not like it. This is symbolic of many things for me- a deep need to understand things that don’t make sense to me. I am struggling with my reality of living with Celiac Disease. I don’t understand it and therefore can’t find peace with it. I am hoping thus changes.

Dressing: lemon + olive oil + garlic
Olive oil is a protectant, the lemon is fresh with an astringent property and the garlic is good for the blood. My dressing represents me at the end of the year- clean, fresh and soft.

Absence of topping 7: croutons
I can’t have croutons. I am tired of having to watch other people eat things I can’t, things I miss. So I omitted a classic topping, purely to make my life easier.

There you have a complete salad. If everything represented became a part of my life this year I would be blessed beyond belief. But, I have a gracious Father, who’s Son has allowed me permission to approach the throne boldly. So, as I kneel before His Majesty, I put one more thing on my salad. The icing on the cake if you will…

Topping 6: dried cranberries
Cranberries are sweet, and have a bite to them. They add just a little extra to the salad, a taste of goodness you don’t really expect. To me, the cranberries represent a partner in life, a husband. This is something I have been waiting patiently and prayerfully for. I would really like to meet him soon.

The dinner for me ended up being life changing. The process I went through on my own prior to dinner- preparing my symbolic food and figuring out how to share it- brought all of my emotions to the surface. I’m generally a fairly open person, but in the past year I’ve become emotionally recluse. I have a hard time asking for help and sharing when I am really hurting. I sort of reverted a bit to a younger version of myself, the one that perfected the half smile that said I’m just fine.

Well, at this dinner my floodgate opened. I shared, really shared about my struggles in dealing with my new illness, and all of the issues that came with it. I made my self vulnerable. And I was ok.

In fact, the response I received from the dozen others around the table was the part that really changed my life. People started asking me questions, and sharing their own stories. I was encouraged, and it inspired me. The love I felt that night was overwhelming. The shaking in your boots and crying while laughing kind of overwhelming love.

I am allowed to be myself. And my CD is not an inconvenience to those who truly love me. Humbled. In awe. Thankful.