But Who Will Roll the Stone Away?

Last week, my pastor's message included a brief focus on the phrase "But who will roll away the stone?" and it has been tumbling in my head all week. In the resurrection story, some ladies are walking to put spices on Jesus' body and, as they walk, they realize that there is a really large rock, heavier than they can manage, in front of the entrance- rendering their plan impossible. Yet, they apparently kept walking.

As I think of the question they ask themselves "But, who will roll the stone away?" I imagine the hopelessness that they feel. Shock was starting to wear off, maybe the numbness after extreme loss was lessening and the impact of this new reality- this Jesus-less reality- was setting in. Maybe they walked, hoping for a miracle, or maybe they walked with dread- having to face the body of someone they loved and had such high hopes for. Maybe as they walked, they saw other crucified bodies hanging on the roadside- a stark reminder that Jesus didn't save the day. That the Roman occupation still held strong. That life, after all, held too much sadness to be contained in one human heart. Their hopes were dashed, their dreams were snatched and the way forward was allusive. One foot in front of the other, they could at least do this. They could at least honour their loved one in this tradition. They sweeten the reality of death with their spices. They could at least do that.

I imagine as they walked, wanting to do this good thing, that their feet lost strength for a second as they realized that, once again, they would be powerless to do this good thing. They could not even roll away the stone. Their mere humanity failed them again. They could not do what needed to be done.

I feel like I imagine these ladies did- I feel like I have faced death and found myself inadequate. While I did not lose something tangible, I lost. I faced the feeling of not being enough time after time. I fought to change. I fought the ugliness I saw inside myself. I fought to think different. To be different. To feel different. And the harder I tried, the harder I fell. Even to put these words to it seems like it doesn't tell you what it was really like. And I tried so hard to hold on to what I thought was the good in me while rejecting all the things I was trying to get rid of.

These last couple of years, more particularly, these last couple of months, have shown me my ugliness. I no longer could control everything inside of me to fit my picture of 'being good' and found so much inside of myself that I could not fight. For the first time in my life, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I was not enough. I felt so abandoned by God- how could he leave me in this mess. Couldn't he see that all I wanted was to please him? Couldn't he see that all the things I wanted were good things? I didn't want success, or stuff, or all those shallow things that 'others' wanted. I wanted world peace, justice, love and truth! Why was he not giving what I needed to get that done!? I could rarely sing because being at church brought me to a place in my soul that I rarely touched during the week and I just felt lonely, abandoned and inadequate. I fought to be better, lovelier and more loveable and instead came face to face with myself. All of it. I couldn't hide the pieces I didn't want anymore and holding them felt like burning my soul.

My heart echoed the hopelessness as I stared inside myself and knew that I had exhausted my resources and it was not enough. My soul knows the losing strength of step that came when one realizes there is something in the way- something bigger than me that was still part of me.

Who will roll away my stone? Who will help me find life anew? Who will love me when I feel so unlovable? How can I ever be enough?

You know what? Those ladies never developed super strength to roll away the stone. They didn't come up with a strategy or get together a band of super strong men to conquer it. Maybe they didn't even pray about it. They didn't roll the stone away. They couldn't.

But God took care of it.
The stone didn't disappear.
It just got moved out of the way.
And that ladies just had to put one foot in front of the other to get to the tomb. They didn't have to move the stone.

Ahhhh... grace.

Things I Love About my Home

1. It is mine.
2. It is cozy.
3. It feels like home.
4. I can be alone.
5. I have tonnes of cupboards.
6. The ladybug population is so far outnumbering the visible bed bug population.
7. I can lay on the floor and look out the window and see only sky.
8. I can soak in the sun in the middle of the afternoon in my living room.
9. I can see the sunset in the distance through the trees.
10. I can see the roof top of an old school when sitting at my table, which makes it feel quaint.
11. It is a roof over my head.
12. It is safe.
13. It has a call up system that works!
14. My heating bill is going to be really, really low.
15. It is so quiet, I can hear my clock tick, but there is enough noise in the apartment to know I am not actually alone.
16. I can hear the firetrucks, which reminds me that people dedicate their lives to protecting others.
17. I can walk to Safeway in four minutes.
18. I am close to two major bus routes.
19. My neighbors are super silent (haven't heard them yet)
20. My caretakers care.
21. It is a place of safety for my heart and soul.

ahhh... I love my little place.

"Getting Away with it"

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of being in charge of my 6 and 8 year old siblings. They are an energetic and inspiring pair and I absolutely cherish the time I get to spend with them. My 8 year old sister is starting to become the book worm that has been blooming in her since she was 1 (no joke- she has loved books forever!). It used to be that the pictures enraptured her and she could sit for hours flipping through pictures. Then spoken stories became riveting. She loved being read to or listening to stories on tape. Now, she is diving into the world of written text. And she has worked her butt off to get there! I had the pleasure of sitting in the living room, reading my own book, and peaking over the top to just watch her. Her long legs flopped over one side of the lazy boy chairs with her head resting on the other. Her mouth often moving as she worked through the words on the page. Her obvious engrossment in the story of beauty and the beast along with an occasional smile at something in the plot. It filled my heart to see such a beautiful thing. I love to be witness to the progression of learning- to be part of the story and see the success. Sometimes as a teacher, a year isn't long enough to get past the struggle of reading or a topic in math, so it is an extra special blessing that I get to see my cherished sister take her steps into the world of learning and words.

Another highlight was making cookies to decorate. While rummaging through mom's cupboards (i have no idea why she was) my sister found a bunch of icing in little squeeze tubes. Since they had no idea what they were, I promptly demonstrated by drawing on them and telling them to lick-- I think they thought I might get in trouble for that one! We came up with the plan to make cookies to decorate with these new fangled icing things and in the course of our discussion, I asked if mom had plans for the icing. Neither of the two knew, so I nonchalantly said "Well, then I guess we can use them."
My brother said "maybe we shouldn't cuz we might get in trouble."
"Well," I said, "I think it should be okay. And you won't get in trouble because I am in charge. And I can use them without getting in trouble." Thinking that my logic was good because I was obviously the one in charge right now and just am beyond the 'get in trouble' stage with my mom. But apparently that didn't fit in my brother's mind. His eyes got big and filled with horror
"That would be bad because then you would get away with it!" as if getting away with it was the worst thing in the world. Ahhh... I love the sweetness of six year olds. And the fact that I can "get away with it."

For One Who is Exhausted

For One Who is Exhausted
John O’Donohue

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like endless, increasing weight.

The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.

Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.

The tide you never valued has gone out,
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.

You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the rush of days.

At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.

You have travelled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit,
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.

©John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us (New York: Doubleday, 2008), p.125, 126.

Compassion Fatigue

A couple years ago, near the time that I quit teaching, my school in conjunction with Inner City Youth Alive hosted a professional development day on Compassion Fatigue. Sorting through my stuff today as I organize myself into my new space, I found the notes that I took and remembered how important this topic is. (Plus, I want to use the notebook for something else so then I want to throw these pages out so if I write them on here, then they are forever immortalized. :) )

Dr. Chris Marchand from Providence College presented based on his thesis. Here are some of the things that I wrote down.

Questions to ask yourself...

... Am I taking care of myself well enough to do this kind of work?
... Do I offer myself the same kind of compassion that I offer to those 'in need'?
... When do I slow down to just sit with the reality of my vulnerability?

I remember hearing those questions and answering no, no and never. It is nice to look at them now and be able to answer yes, yes, and often. I feel like I am building stronger blocks in my structure of life that will serve me better than my last set did.

Compassion fatigues is the natural behaviors and emotions resulting from secondary traumatic stress, which is defined as: the stress associated with helping or wanting to help a traumatized or suffering person resulting in a reduced capacity or interest in being empathetic. Although it may lead to burnout, it can emerge suddenly and without warning. Compassion fatigue can happen in one day without any building up to in. It often presents in the ability to 'shut down' (thoughts, actions, etc.). It is interesting to note that secondary traumatic stress can occur simply though exposure of knowledge. The 'helper' can experience parallel emotional behaviors of the primary trauma survivors. It is important to remember that trauma is contagious if one is not careful.

So what does 'being careful' look like? How do I live a life of loving others in a world full of trauma, pain, unrealistic and unhealthy societal patterns and expectations and still be whole, full and healthy? Here are some things that were suggested at this conference.

1) Be realistic: recognize your superhero tendencies (listen to the language you use).
2) Practice self-awareness: pay attention to yourself, be present in the moment!
3) Set limits on care-giving: Care-giving is a gift you give, not something taken from you.
4) Understand your personal vulnerabilities: What 'ignites' you?
5) Be prepared for disruption of your world view and your theological equilibrium. You will begin to see the world through the eyes of those around you.
6) Refresh: find out what brings your joy and meaning and take ample time to do those things.
7) When you feel stuck, have compassion on yourself and give yourself the time to go slow.

Times have changed for me since I first heard this. I was in the process of burning out, but didn't have the time to do it while teaching so once I quit, the full force of my burn out hit hard. But, I think I am getting better. Better enough to venture back into the classroom- a little at least. I did my first subbing this week at a local high school and had fun doing it. I pretended that I thought the students were doing meaningful work while they pretended to do it and that was okay (the worksheets left for me were uninspiring plus I don't know anything about bromelain, enzymes or collagen!). So for any of you who read about compassion fatigue and it hits home, I encourage you to take care of yourself. The alternative isn't very pretty.