Friday, December 21, 2018

i was in and out of the walk in clinic in less than twenty minutes today - meds in hand and all.

next week marks a month on fluoxetine. i haven't gotten my menstrual cycle yet (sorry, fellas) so it's hard to see if they're working in their entirety, but i feel good about being on them and haven't experienced any of the many negative side-effects that the pharmacist warned me about when i picked up my first bottle; i'd say that's a win-win.

i've been keeping track of my moods, though. every day before i go to bed, i write a line or two in my journal, stating how i felt that day and the circumstances that could have influenced my mood either way. happy to report that i haven't had a bad day since the last thursday in november, in fact, most of my days have been full of the people i love and ... so much christmas.

taking care of yourself is in no ways easy, especially in such a demanding season, but i've learned that it's most beneficial.

i woke up late this morning (sleep is a part of taking care of yourself) and was reminded by facebook that it was this day three years a go when i got the call saying that we were running out of time and that i had to make the trek to ottawa if i wanted to see my mom before she passed away (this was completely unexpected or i else i would have already been there.) i could replay that day over and over in my head if i wanted to, but instead, i choose to remember her, thank God that she made it through that day and that we got to spend one last Christmas with her.

i've realized today how important it is to remember. we can get so caught up in the the joy and busyness of the season that we forget to pause and feel. feel the grief. the loss. the hole. the excitement. the love, the joy, and most importantly, the reason for the season (and the one who carries us through the chaos), Jesus.

need some help with this today? have a listen to "light of the world" by lauren daigle. it's on repeat over here.

merry christmas, everyone.

Monday, December 10, 2018

baby, it's cold inside.

no, really. my furnace is broken.

BUT i have a roof over my head, a duvet to sleep in, and thanks to my neighbours, a portable fire place thing-a-ma-bobber that is currently heating my front room.

i can't help but think of my friends on the streets in times like these. the cold is a lot more bearable with all of the above, and because i know that a handy man (hopefully a handsome handy man) will be here tomorrow between 8a.m and noon to fix it. my friends, you see, they don't have that luxury.

part of my role with project serve, youth unlimited is to come alongside great organizations in the GTA who are doing what they can to provide warmth, shelter, clothes and food to those who don't have access to these things otherwise. organizations like st felix centre, who open their doors to 300+ people a day and pump out over 9,000 meals/month. or st. francis table, who just recently hit the million dollar meal mark. not to mention the good shepherd or scott mission, who provide a warm bed for those who see themselves as in a season of transition or stuck in a cycle of poverty.

my team and i do what we can to support these organizations by providing them with the necessary volunteers thanks to the countless youth who sign up for one of our service project trips each year. we get to run pre-trip workshops, serve alongside the youth for weeks at a time and help them process what they're seeing, feeling and learning with the intent that they go back and serve in their own communities. it's a win-win, really. the youth walk away transformed and end up transforming our (their) city, organizations get the help that they need to run their programs effectively and i get to use my gifts and live my dream.

but i can't do it alone.

youth unlimited requires all of their staff to fund raise their salary, and thanks to many generous donors, i have raised enough to work twenty hours a week. would you consider helping me increase the amount of time i am able to work by supporting me $20/month (or any amount that your heart so desires) and/or by donating a one-time end of the year (and very tax receiptable) gift by copying and pasting the link below? (it won't let me add the link.) in doing so, you won't only be helping invest in the lives of countless young people, but you'll be helping "paula falla her calla' by doing what she cans to spread love to those who need it the most.

www.paulac.yugta.ca

Thursday, December 6, 2018

i had this brilliant gift idea once. i convinced my siblings that we should go and get a professional picture done for my parents' christmas gift. we'd make an appointment, put on our best complementary outfits and let the camera man work his magic.

only his magic left me wishing he had cropped yours truly out. i had my hair down that day. the photographer asked me to tuck it behind my ears so i did, which in turn made me look like a big eared (insert anything that has big ears here.) i looked hideous. so you can imagine my excitement every christmas when my dad would wrap it like a present and hang it on the wall. it was the most wonderful time of the year after all.

and it still is (okay, okay, next to thanksgiving and baseball season) and i've been intentional about celebrating it more than any other year this year. so far i'm doing good; i've rocked an elf's sweater and had breakfast with santa, bought myself a week's worth of christmas socks, written close to 40 christmas cards, helped decorate a tree, bought some presents, belted out some christmas tunes, drank a few glasses of egg nog and a few christmas lattes, and as of today, wrapped the one picture i have hanging on my wall in my bedroom just like my dad used to do. in a small way, it helps me be intentional about celebrating him, too.

next up: conquering my mom's butterball cookie recipe.

Monday, December 3, 2018

i took my seventh pill this morning.

so far, i'm not experiencing any side effects, which i'm super happy about, and i'm about a week and a bit away from seeing if they're doing the trick (although it may take a little longer for me to see a difference due to the fact that i experience bouts of joy as a regular part of my life without them, too.)

that being said, medication doesn't give you joy or 'take your pain away'; it just helps lift the fog long enough for you to be able to see and think more clearly.

of course, other things help, too: like sitting near a window or going for a walk. eating fruits and vegetables. praying. journalling. seeing a counselor. doing things that bring you life. surrounding yourself with good people or sleeping on a friend's couch (all of which i have been doing the past week in addition to swallowing a pill each day.) for me, one side of the equation isn't effective without the other. for you, it may look different. but either way, i'm certain of one thing as i type this: life (and life to its full) is worth fighting for and tomorrow needs you. tomorrow needs us.

Wednesday, November 28, 2018

"my name's dean, and i'm an alcoholic", he said. only we weren't at an AA meeting, we were hanging out in dundas square.

my students had met him during an activity and ended up inviting him to our community dinner in regent park that night. dean wanted to go, but he needed help getting there.

ashamedly, i felt annoyed at first. i calculated how long it would take for me to walk him there (he was pretty intoxicated), and how having to do so prevented me from being able to spend more time with my team before they headed back to peterborough that night.

but dean, you see, he blessed my heart. he was so honest. raw. funny. outgoing and caring. there wasn't a person we passed on the street that didn't get a sincere hello, or an (attempted) handshake. he made me smile, and he reminded me of a love that is most pure - God's love - as he so confidently quoted john 3:16 in between his countless "i'm sorry i'm so drunk" apologies. ironically, both go hand in hand; God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, and nothing - not even one too many beers - can separate us from His love. dean, in his drunken state, ministered to me. (this, as i've quickly learned, is as common as you allow it to be.)

we ended up making it to regent park faster than i thought we would thanks to a friend's bus pass. there, dean changed into the new outfit we were able to find him before sitting down for a meal. he looked really sharp and happy (which in turn, made me happy.)

but my favourite part? my favourite part was when he made his way up to the front of the church after dinner and asked my friend if she could play 'jesus loves me' on the piano. she did, of course, and he cried. he hadn't heard it since he was five, he said. but he believed it. in fact, he was preaching it long before my friend even played a note.

little did i know at the time, i would need this reminder more than anything myself this week.

as a few of you know, i've been battling deep bouts of depression on and off since june, and with these episodes come a lot of self-hate and guilt. i can't explain why this is or how fast i spiral, either. on a good day, i think i'm funny and kind and supportive, but this illness, you see, makes me feel anything but. unlovable and worthless. like i don't matter and as if people's lives would be easier and better off without me.

i realize how insane this sounds. i find myself cringing even as i write this. but that's mental illness for you. the darkness envelops you.

so on monday, after being crippled by one too many dark days, i decided to look into getting some meds. i mustered up enough energy and courage to walk into the doctor's office across the street and admit that i'm sick. admitting is the hardest part, i find. but i have 300mg (10mg/day) of fluoxetine to prove that i did it, and i am now two pills in and a week and a half from them (hopefully - fingers crossed) starting to kick in.

yesterday was tough, but today was better. i suspect life will look like this for a while. but i'm one step closer to feeling like myself again, and that's enough to make me keep going. of course, other things help, too. like a phone call from a friend, a hug from another, or, as like i mentioned at the beginning of this blog, the greatest reminder from my new friend, dean: God loves me, mental illness and all, and He loves you, too.

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

i ate 15 oreos for dinner last week. fif-teen.

i was having a bad couple of days and found myself unsuccessfully wrestling through a lot of internal conflict, which led to my usual mood swings, which led to me hibernating for a few days.

i decided to come out of my room to make dinner one night only to realize that my housemate was having people over in less than half an hour. she invited me to join them, but as mentioned above, i was hella moody and anti-social, so i opted for the only accessible thing i could find at the time to feed my mood and satisfy my hunger: a bag of double stuffed oreos with a side of netflix. (i certainly do want you to 'continue playing', thank you very much.)

of course, if you've ever (double) stuffed your face, or used any unhealthy coping mechanism, you know exactly what comes next: guilt and/or disgust, on top of whatever you were feeling before you ate/drank/did drugs/binged your favourite show etc., and that's exactly what i felt that night as i sat there staring at the empty rows of cookies in disgust.

but here's the thing; the eating contest i had with myself didn't make any of my 'stuff' go away; it kept reappearing and will continue to until i stop stuffing it (and stuffing my face) and start dealing with my insecurity and low self esteem at its root.

the truth is, most of the time i feel ugly, fat and undesirable. unsuccessful and alone. moody and irritable. disconnected and lost.

sure, i can chalk some of this up to losing my parents (lost and disconnected), me not being married or having kids (undesirable and alone), or me only being able to work twenty hours a week (and going crazy the rest of the time), but i can't figure it out otherwise.

but what i do know is that temporary fixes are exactly that: temporary; they may make you feel good in the moment (at least up until your fourth cookie), but they don't help you in the long run.

what will help us in the long run, however, is finding the root cause of our pain, working through it and moving towards healing.

for you, that may look like facing past abuse and working through the trauma attached to it or forgiving yourself for a past mistake or someone else for theirs. maybe it looks like facing your family's history with addiction and working through it with a counselor, or maybe just maybe, it's as 'simple' as looking in the mirror and telling yourself that you are valuable until you start to believe it yourself.

for me, it looks like removing myself from most social media outlets for a while and spending the time i'd usually waste (scrolling and comparing) on something productive like worrying about my own life. it also looks like seeing my wonderful counselor regularly, bringing my insecurities to the light and most importantly, reminding myself of the Lord's unfailing love for me - His secure, sufficient love - and putting the oreos down long enough to rest in it.

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

i'm sitting at a table in my old stomping grounds, mcdonalds, pluggling away on this week's to-do-list. it's been great being able to chat with some of my old crew and regulars here and there, periodic breaks that the A.D.D in me welcomes with open arms.

most of the people who have been excited to see me haven't surprised me - i spent a considerable amount of time investing into this place (and it in me) - but one customer in particular made me remember just how much of a long lasting difference we can make in someone else's life without even knowing it, and in the simplest of ways.

"you know, paula" he said, "the people here are good, but every once in a while you run into someone who is exceptional, and that person is you. we miss you here. i miss being able to see you when i'm having a bad day."

"gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones" (proverbs 16:24), and whether here, at work, or by text, i have been a recipient of many of these the past few days, proving that a word of life begets ... life.

speaking of life (how's that for a segue?), with the exception of instagram (it's the only thing i have in terms of a photo album), i took myself off of social media for a bit (maybe permanently.) it's a scary thing feeling disconnected, but i can tell you that the past few days have been incredibly freeing. my 'screen time' has not only decreased (thanks for keeping track, apple), but i've been able to focus on 'watering my own lawn' instead of being made to believe that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence (although my neighbours, pete and jackie, are much better at taking care of their lawn than i am.)

i got out of bed yesterday after a few days of feeling defeated by depression, headed to work, crossed a lot off of my to-do list and had a few life-giving conversations with some of my friends from work. i came home feeling happy for the first time in a few days, made a delicious dinner (cooking makes me come alive), locked myself in my room and started working on (and tweaking) the devotions i'm responsible for at work tomorrow, and a sermon i feel honoured to preach at one of my favourite churches in mississauga on sunday.

and here i am, on day two of getting out of bed and getting out of the house and getting things done, because of God's strength and grace, yes, but also because yesterday's life-giving day gave me the momentum i needed for today.

by the same token, i'm certain that the kind words from my particular customer today will give me momentum i need for tomorrow, too, because, well, life begets life.

Saturday, October 20, 2018

i bought a new pair of shoes in europe but i've yet to walk a mile in them. the truth is, you haven't, either.

the same can be said about life, can't it? we really don't know what anyone else has walked through, nor can we understand, really. so why do we pretend to have all of the answers when someone tries to open up? truth be told, an untimely, apathetic-esque word can do more damage than good, even if spoken with the best of intention.

this happened to me this week, actually. heck, maybe it even happened to you.

i struggle with being so open online. it's safer for me to pound out my feelings on this blog because i have no idea who's reading it or what they're (you're) thinking about me as they (you) do.

that, and i don't know what else to do with this inner conflict and chaos.

the "i have so many things to be thankful for" VS the all consuming lack that i feel ever since the loss of my parents and because i'm 38 and don't have a family or constant support system of my own.

or the "jesus is all sufficient" line that people feed me while leaning on their spouse or family for support VS the bible being very clear that community and relationship is at the very heart of the God i believe in and serve.

or the "don't make anyone a priority if they only make you an option" quote i ponder VS "the stay true to who you are and keep investing in people" battle i wrestle with most of the time.

and the list goes on. (it always does.)

i told the Lord the other day how tired i was of the mental battle i have to endure, the weariness that comes with it, and the not so subtle bi-polar mood swings. the really high highs and the really low lows. (the worst part is, i thought i was getting better.)

i do what i can to get through each episode, though. some days, this looks like scraping myself out of bed, putting my laundry away and mustering up enough energy to go to the store and get groceries like it did this week, and other times, it means taking a bus downtown and pounding out a blog in a coffee shop before heading to church in hopes to meet my Healer there. either way, i have to keep going. either way, so do you.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

it was the bottom of the ninth and we were down by six. after a two-run shot early in the game, my friend and i were full of hope. she had never been to a losing game, in fact, and those are pretty good odds. i, on the other hand, have been to many losing games, but thankfully, i rarely leave a game early.

next thing you know, a double, followed by a home run, brings us within two with only one out.

two batters later, the smokin hot gurriel jr gets up and hits the ball into the rays' bullpen to tie it up, bringing us to our feet.

if that wasn't electric enough, you'll never guess what happened next. (unless you saw the highlights, of course.) the SMOAKin hot (only not that kind of hot this time) justin smoak steps up to the plate and hits a walk-off home run. LIKE THE GAME WINNING HOME RUN. in the ninth. after being down by six.

i couldn't stop smiling all the way home and as i watched the replay over and over before calling it a night; it was the second most exciting game i have ever been to (my friend bought me playoff tickets once for a do or die game against texas and we won.)

in typical paula fashion, this got me thinking.

how many times have i wanted to quit life in the ninth inning? how many times have you?

you have two strikes against you. the ball is coming in fast. it may even have a mean curve. life throws curve balls, after all.

or maybe you seem to be dropping the ball at work and your colleagues are producing more than you.

or maybe, just maybe, you feel like you're standing in the field alone. your marriage is rocky or your kids aren't doing as well at school as you had hoped, and you're tired and worn out.

whatever your life looks like at the moment, don't give up; you never know when you're going to get the pitch you need to hit it out of the park. just ask the blue jays.

Monday, September 10, 2018

i can't stop staring at my sister's ultra sound. LIKE THE NEWEST MEMBER OF MY FAMILY IS FORMING IN THERE. my niece or nephew, in fact; a baby who has been knit together in their mother's womb with intentional detail, and in perfect timing.

this unborn baby represents a lot more than a son or daughter or niece or nephew; he or she represents the perseverance of a husband and wife who refused to give up during such a frustrating wait; a long and painful, drawn out wait.

my sister would tell you it's worth it, though. she would even say that it made this whole experience more rich, and her all the more appreciative.

kind of like how i feel about my job.

no one knows my story quite like i do. (and no one knows your story quite like you do, either.)

few know how hard i've worked to get here. the countless hours i spent dreaming, planning and building, and building some more.

how many times i stepped out in faith only to fall on my face.

the times i was overlooked, mistreated, underappreciated or underpaid.

the conflicting emotion i felt time after time, the dumb (really dumb) decisions i made, and how quickly (too quickly) i quit at times, and the times i should have quit and didn't. (quitting isn't always a bad thing, you know.)

the trials and hardship. the wrestling and soul searching. the frustration. the disappointment. the unfulfillment.

but i, like, my sister, am all the more appreciative for what i have now more because of the fact that i had to wait.

i couldn't help but reflect on this as i sat at my desk today, or when i got an email from my supervisor approving my vacation time next month or a text from a leader in montreal confirming that she wants to bring a team here again in a few months, and i'll be thinking about how worth the wait was once again when i greet them at the bus station in march and as i'm doing what i was put on earth to do that week, during the summer, and every day in between.

waiting can suck, i know. sometimes, it's a matter of surrendering our wants and needs and trusting that things will work out the way that we had hoped that they would (and learning to be content if they don't), and other times it means pushing through the overly frustrating and disappointing waiting stage long enough to hold your beautiful newborn or land your dream job.

either way, wait it out; what is for you will not pass you by.

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

i can see why that young, vibrant pastor recently took his own life. (a story that i can't get out of my head, by the way.)

outwardly, he was grieving. stressed. scared. his dad passed away years a go (which is hard on its own) and in doing so, left him the huge responsibility of leading his church (pressure.)

given that it was a popular church, pastor 'drew' had multiple stalkers, one of whom showed up at his house in a dangerous manner, forcing him to sell it, and his mom's house, hire security and move to a different community altogether (stressful.)

on top of that, he was a pastor, and only those who are one (or know of one) know the burden that brings in and of itself. leadership of any kind is lonely, but pastoring? people's eyes are on you. some, in form of adoration (which can be stressful in itself). others, in hopes to see you fail.

plus, you're expected to have all of the answers when it comes to God and faith and suffering (and the list goes on), and none of us do.

add a forced sabbatical to the list, and you feel distant from the thing and people you love the most. not to mention bored and purposeless. on top of that, idle time has its way of forcing you to face your pain, which is hard and exhausting.

while the outward stuff contributes to your state of hopelessness, it's the inward stuff that drives people to take their own life. the stuff people cant see. the never ending questions. the chaos. the turmoil.

"i'm too much of a burden; my spouse (family, friends) will be better off without me."

"i'm tired of fighting. i'm never going to get better"

(and that list goes on, too.)

so when i heard about the tragic death of pastor andrew stoecklein, i wasn't surprised. really sad, yes, but not surprised. (weird how you can feel heartbroken over someone you don't know.)

but even more than that, i'm left feeling burdened for those who struggle with a similar feat.

if you're a church goer, do me a favour and encourage your pastor this week (and every week after that.) love him or her well. expect less and pray (for them) more.

and if you're not, encourage anyone you can. spread love, not hate. give more and expect less, too.

because sadly, when it comes down to it, this won't be the last suicide we hear about. regardless of what can be seen on the outside or what our social media accounts say, we're all facing battles and demons that no one else knows anything about.

R.I.P, pastor.
this blog will have to be short because my burning nikes are about to set fire to my back deck.

just kidding. (see how ridiculous that sounds?)

"i'ma burn shoes i already paid for, put them on my instagram story, throw a hashtag or two on there and stick it to the man!"

people make me laugh, but they also scare me.

as most of you know, kaepernick (whom i love, by the way) made a stand against police brutality and racism by kneeling during the national anthem, a bold move that cost him his career as a football player in the NFL. people had a cow over it then and people are having a cow over it now ever since they found out that nike made him the face of their newest commercial. publicity stunt? maybe. but powerful none the less.

AND PEOPLE ARE BURNING THEIR SHOES AND CUTTING THE SWOOSH OFF OF THEIR SHORTS because of it. (in case you were wondering, all that was going through my head when i typed that is the song 'who wears short shorts?')

can we say i-n--e-f-f-e-c-t-i-v-e?

i get it. there's so much happening in the world and we don't know how to make sense of it, or where and how we can help. kneeling during an anthem seems peaceful enough. telling nike to shove it by way of a flame lets them know where we stand, and retweeting, sharing, liking and blogging lets other people know where we do.

the underlying issue(s) here is (are) a big deal, i know, and not something we should take lightly. but can we please take a few minutes and take a breather first? think before we act? and post? gain some perspective before the whole world sets on fire? pray about and brainstorm effective ways in which we can make a stand alone AND together?

THAT's my challenge to you today. my challenge to us.

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

"elijah", God said. "i'm going to need you to separate yourself from all that's familiar and comfortable and go sit by a brook."

of course, i am paraphrasing here, but that's the jist of it; God was asking elijah to leave his comfort zone and sit by the kerith ravine, which, coincidentally, by definition means 'to cut off' or 'to separate', and i feel like God is asking me to do something similar in the season ahead.

ever felt that way? ever felt like God (or life) was asking you to separate yourself from something? your boyfriend or girlfriend? that job? your circle of friends? your community or church?

maybe some of you feel that way right now - fall is a season of transition, after all - and stepping into something usually requires letting go of something else.

but here's the clincher, God will meet you on the other side of the separation, just like he did for elijah.

let's pick the story back up in 1 kings 17 vs 4.

"you will drink from the brook, and i have directed the ravens to supply you with food there." so he did what the Lord had told him. he went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. the ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook. (so much cooler than skip the dishes!)

vs 6: "some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. then the word of the Lord came to him: “Go at once to Zarephath in the region of Sidon and stay there. i have directed a widow there to supply you with food.”

there are those words again. "i have directed"

i cried tears of relief this past week when i noticed the pattern here.

God asked elijah to leave all that he knew behind, but he took care of him moving forward.

his need? food and water. mine? community.

i've spent the last two years investing in and attending a church, a great church that i believe in and love. i got sick (sicker than i have been in over a decade) and took a sabbatical from it. i believed that is what i needed to do and i was right; it was the healthiest and wisest decision i could have made at the time, and i planned on going back once i started to feel like myself again.

the trips i took this month were really good for me - i started to feel stronger and had every intention of going back. but for some reason, i believe the Lord is stopping me from doing so. He confirmed it through a few people - one of which didn't know me (or anything about my life) - and then through the story i just referred to in this blog a few hours later.

truthfully, it doesn't make any sense. not only does it not line up with one of my biggest desires (to be a part of a church and community), but it goes against everything i've been trying to do and build, and against a pattern in my life that i am desperately trying to break and avoid repeating (running away.)

but ... sometimes he calls you to a brook.

and even though i'm scared i'll fall through the cracks or battle loneliness the rest of my life and never feel a part of a church community again, this is the path i believe i must walk down. and even though i may not understand why He's asking me to walk away from something i need and love or what that looks like for me moving forward, i'm certain that like elijah, He will direct my steps and take care of me, too.

"in their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps" [proverbs 16:9]

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

toronto pearson airport intimidated me and here i was walking into it for the very first time alone.

i had no idea how or even where to check in until someone directed me, and what awaited me on the other side of the security gate left me feeling even more uncertain. i was 22 years old, after all, and inexperienced in the flying department.

i tell you no lies; the minute i made it through security, a cheerful flight attendant greeted me. "which flight are you on?" she asked, as she grabbed the ticket out of my hand.

"mine!" she said before i could answer, "come with me."

you'll be happy to know that she didn't offer me candy and lead me into a white van with tinted windows. instead, she led me straight to our gate and took extra good care of me throughout the flight. hooked me up with a pillow and a blanket even. she may have even slipped me an extra cookie.

i thought this was normal. turns out it's not. i've been on a heck of a lot of planes and not once has a flight attendant been waiting for me on the other side of security since. at that moment, i knew that God was looking out for me, and sixteen years later as i recount this particular story, i'm reminded of the same; God cares about me.

so much, in fact, that He sent that flight attendant my way that particular day knowing i was nervous about finding my way through the airport and needed some extra TLC to distract me from the fact that i was leaving everything i knew behind to make a bold and scary move across the country.

and so much that He opened up a much needed door for me this week to be able to write this blog mountain side in beautiful BC.

pardon the play on words, but this has been quite the mountaintop experience for me; i feel rested and at peace, encouraged and invested in, full of good, hearty food and thought-provoking conversation, and most of all, closer to God.

coming in, i had no idea what to expect. all i was aware of is what i needed to pack, where i was headed, and that i couldn't get the few first verses of psalm 23 out of my head:

"the Lord is my shepherd, i lack nothing.
he makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.
he guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake"

it shouldn't come to a surprise to any of you when i say this, but He has exceeded my expectations in both the restoration and guidance department.

i feel rejuvenated thanks to the spiritual practices the team here has led us through, the beautiful nature that surrounds me, a very flexible, personalized schedule and an extremely comfortable bed.

but the best (and hardest) part? i'm gradually connecting the dots and learning what all of this means for me when i head back home on friday and step into a season of transition.

i may not have all of the answers (who does?), but one thing i'm certain of as i type this is this: God cares about me and will continue to "guide me along the BEST pathway for my life". (psalm 32:8 NLT)

Monday, July 16, 2018

dear christian,

you do know that you can love the Lord and still struggle? have faith in God and still feel (and admit) pain? that it's okay to feel sad? or weary? angry? anxious? confused? scared or crushed?

if not, this blog is for you.

why would the bible tell us to cast all of our anxiety on Him (for he cares for us) if we never felt anxious? or tell us that He's close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit if we never had to nurse a broken heart or deal with a crushed spirit? why would He invite us to come to Him when we're weary if we never grew tired or to lift our eyes to the hills (because that's where our help comes from) if we never needed help?

the good thing is, if you look close enough, you'll notice that our remedy is found in each of these verses; his help and care. His closeness. an invitation.

our remedy is found in Christ, but that doesn't mean that we can't admit when we're in pain.

i've received countless texts and emails over the past month thanking me for 'being vulnerable', which just goes to show me that one, people find vulnerability refreshing, and two, people long for a safe place where they can be vulnerable, too.

so friends, can we do what we can to lead the way in being real this week? that doesn't mean you have to write a blog for the whole world to see or call a family meeting. for you, it may look like texting a friend or being brave enough to answer a "how are you?" honestly and that's (more than) okay. and you know something? whatever you're wrestling with and feeling is okay, too. life can be scary and hard; what do you say we take off our masks, start letting people in, and run to the greatest remedy of all together?

Monday, July 9, 2018

i saw a post the other day that said that canada has four seasons: spring, dollar drink days, fall (pumpkin spice lattes what up!) and roll up the rim (HA), while others say that canada only has two: winter and construction.

i'd have to agree with the latter. at least every time i'm bussing down eglinton and my normal 20 minute route turns into a whopping 35.

but here's the thing, though construction can be messy and annoying, it has its benefits - building things that need to be built and fixing things that need to be fixed.

kind of like my heart.

i'm going to get really vulnerable here.

i wrote a blog the other day about my anger problem, or my hot-headedness, if you will, and how i had planned on working through it, starting with what i've stored up in my heart.

i'll have you know, i was serious about putting in the work.

in fact, that very day i asked the Lord why i was so angry, and i believe he answered me using four words/phrases: unforgiveness, unfulfilled desires, unmet expectations, and unprocessed grief.

one, unforgiveness.

i began to write a list of people who i believe i need to forgive, all of which are related to (my perception of) being abandoned, neglected and/or backstabbed. truthfully, i didn't get any further than this. i wrote down names and closed my journal. i mean, how does one forgive such deep hurt any way? by praying? releasing the hurt aloud? reminding myself of what Christ did on the cross for me and the grace that has been extended to me since (and still is)? i don't know. all i know is that he is working in me and propelling me to forgive. construction.

two, unfulfilled desires.

no matter how much i try and convince you, i've always wanted a family of my own. a hot husband. at least three little paulas running around (scary). a mother-in-law. (perhaps even scarier.) (please note: i also want peace and quiet, the ability to go to a coffee shop and read a book whenever the heck i feel like it and the freedom to travel as i see fit.) but in all seriousness, no matter how indifferent i act all of the time, i feel really angry that i don't have a family of my own, and have a hard time trusting that i ever will. construction.

three, unmet expectations.

this will always be a killer for me relationally, and i believe is somewhat tied to the season i am in and the void i feel due to the above. i have a hard time navigating through my expectations of people sometimes, figuring out what is realistic, what i can or can't ask of my friends, whether i'm putting unnecessary pressure on them to be something that they can't, and how and where the community we are called to in scripture comes into play here. the conflict i feel in regards to this is hands down my biggest frustration in life, but like i said the other day, what we've always known doesn't have to be what we always know. i'm under construction.

and lastly, unprocessed grief.

i don't even know what this means, really. i thought i was doing okay at processing the death of my parents, but then again, how can one measure success in this area? loss is without a timeline, grief knows no bounds, and well, i'm at a loss of how to do this 'properly'. (i have an appointment with my counsellor next week to try and figure this out.) all i know is that while i am super happy for all of my friends who still have their parents, i'm really pissed that i don't have either one. (how's that for honesty?) con-freakin-struction.

but, like i said at the beginning of this blog, temporary construction benefits the permanent, and i'm working on fixing and building my way to a smoother road.

under construction? take heart. "he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (philippians 1:6)

Saturday, July 7, 2018

there are three different ways to wake up: on the wrong side of the bed (depression), in the middle of it (numbness/indifference), or my favourite, on the right side of the bed (full of joy.)

one, depression.

i open my eyes and wonder if this is my reality. i find it hard to breathe. the air suffocates me and a thick darkness envelops me. i close my eyes in hopes to numb the pain, but i wake again only to find out that it's still there, sometimes even stronger. it's completely life-sucking, but i do what i can to make it through to what i call stage two, indifference.

although i feel pretty indifferent while depressed, this particular type of indifference isn’t constant; this kind can be (temporarily) avoided with some good company, a beautiful hike, by catching a ball game or diving into a good book. essentially anything that brings me life. and this is where i am today. i'm not suffocating, i don't feel completely hopeless and energy-less, but i do feel indifferent, and at this stage, i find myself fighting to find my joy again.

when i find it, i'm at my best. it's where you'll see and experience the part of me that's full of life. contagious and fun to be around. encouraging. life-giving. happy.

of course, being happy all the time isn't anyone's reality, and although i will never say (or believe) that depression is a necessary part of life, i do believe that low-times are; they keep you grounded and thankful, give you something to fight for, and if you allow them to, help you become more compassionate and understanding.

truth be told, i prefer waking up on the right side of the bed, but the more i live, the more i realize that life requires some form of balance and shouldn't be lived on one side of the bed alone. that is, unless you prefer sleeping on an extremely uncomfortable, lopsided mattress.

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

i walked into his office angry. after all, he told me that he specialized in helping people with their anger.

only, he couldn't help me. i just got finished telling him that i felt 'destructively angry', and he, well, wanted to show me the anger thermometer that he drew using fifty shades of red. (bet you thought i was going to say grey, didn't you?)

"this is when you are feeling angry", he said as he pointed to a lighter shade of red. "and this", he said pointing to a deeper red, "is when you're really mad. see the difference?"

i stared at him blankly. which part of your thermometer would one be on when they felt like punching someone in the face, i thought.

needless to say, i wasn't impressed with his colour wheel; i handed him my money and left even more angry.

i made really dumb decisions that week, to no fault of my own. the truth is, i didn't know how to process all of the anger that i was feeling that day, nor did i know the root of it, and truthfully, i sit here just as angry years later.

the castrucci way is to stuff everything, blow up, and stuff again. that's all i've ever known. but thankfully, with a lot of work, patterns can change; all we have ever known doesn't have to be all that we ever know.

not sure who i am writing this for today. maybe for me. maybe for you. but whether you're wrestling through deep rooted anger or shame (i feel that at times, too), or working through an addiction or an unhealthy thought pattern, today is a new day. today, you can make a change. today, you can heal (or at the very least, make a step towards healing.)

that's what i will be doing today, starting with searching my heart (out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks - luke 6:45), and practicing biting my tongue (fools vent their anger, but the wise quietly hold it back - proverbs 29:11.) wish me luck.

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

introducing a (hopefully) helpful guide on how to walk someone through grief and/or mental illness (please note: this is simply my opinion based on years of walking through it myself, and walking others through it, too.)

first, the don'ts:

don't say "call me if you need anything". while the person who is depressed or grieving may pick up the phone to make a call once in a while, this is highly unlikely. the one in deep pain (especially in regards to grief) shouldn't be in charge of reaching out. pick up the phone. if they want to talk, they'll answer, and if they don't, they know you care.

don't expect a response right away (and sometimes, ever). i'm weird in the sense that i will (eventually) reply to every single message i receive, but not everyone has the energy to. either way, the person you send texts/emails/mail to reads all of them, and appreciates your sentiment. being thought about is most helpful.

grief: don't say things like "God must have wanted another angel" or "she is with Jesus in heaven now". while the latter may be true, and comforting at times, the person grieving knows this, and would rather their mother/husband/child be with them now. selfishly, eternity (or whatever) can wait. it's eternity.

depression: don't say things like "snap out of it" or "you need to pray more". both are inaccurate and often harmful. snapping out of it isn't an option (don't you think we would if we could?), and chances are, they are praying (if they in fact, pray.)

and lastly, check in when you can. grief exceeds the funeral (in fact, this is when they'll need you the most), mental illness is a process, and checking in when you can is key. (disclaimer: you can't do all the 'fighting' for your friends, either. they, too, need to put in the work, but there are times when we need to carry each other and help one another heal and succeed. know the difference.)

secondly, the do's:

let the wounded lead. ask questions. see where they're at. don't assume that they want to talk. they may just need a break from thinking or an excuse to leave their room.

example: my friend adriana was the perfect person to greet me at the airport the day after my mom passed away. she hugged me, asked me how i was in that moment, and then asked me what i felt like doing. in that particular moment, i felt like being normal. we went out for lunch and caught up on life, hung out with her dog, watched suits [staring at harvey spector is healing], and then when i needed to, i processed what happened the morning before and cried. she didn't assume how i was feeling and act accordingly; she asked me how i was feeling, and let me lead.

enter into their pain. we tend to distance ourselves from our loved one's pain because we feel uncomfortable, and/or avoid the elephant in the room because we feel awkward. but here's the thing (and i have to remind myself of this when the tables are turned) - we're called to "rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn" (romans 12:15), and your friend's struggle with grief (or mental illness) isn't about your comfort level.

and lastly, be practical, and show up.

i'll never forget how great my friends were when my mom died. i received countless hugs, had cards and flowers mailed to my house, had meals cooked for me, money given to me to cover my bills, and the list goes on, all of which helped a great deal and kept me going during moments i didn't think i could, or had no desire to.

in times like these, my mind often goes back to the story of job. this dude knew pain. he had everything (ten kids, thousands of animals, a ton of servants, and good health), and lost everything just like that.

"when job’s three friends, eliphaz the temanite, bildad the shuhite and zophar the naamathite, (i would totally give them nicknames) heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him. when they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. no one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was" [job 2:11-13]

but then, in chapters four, eight and eleven, job's friends open their mouths, and, in an attempt to find a solution to his pain, start blaming him and his sin for his loss (which, as you'll notice from reading chapter one, isn't the case at all).

take it from their example, don't try and figure life (or death) out, make excuses as to why something is happening to one of your friends, or feel the need to come up with a solution. though job's friend's fell into that trap the second time, they had it right the first; they showed up, felt his pain, and sat with him in it.

and that's all most of us need when we're struggling, too.

Thursday, June 21, 2018

my alarm went off at six a.m. this morning, only i didn't need it to; my mind had been racing since four.

"how will i be able to muster up enough energy to function at work?", i thought. "what if i don't deal with things properly or just end up staring blankly into space like i have been doing the past few days?"

i could feel my heart race and my chest tighten with every passing thought.

i stood up and headed for the shower any way. only seconds later, i found myself back under the covers awaiting my snooze button.

i eventually made it to the shower, but once i even thought about putting on mascara, packing a lunch or jumping on the bus (rather small tasks for a normal day), i went back into hiding. next thing you know, i found myself sending a few "i'm not feeling well (which is true mentally) and will be working from home today" emails.

it's 1:00p.m as i type this. i crawled (that's the perfect word for it) out of bed at 11 and wangled to send out the necessary emails since, and hopefully soon, this blog, which i pound out for many reasons.

one, to let you know that you're not alone and that i see you; the one who suffers with anxiety and/or depression. the one who's up with me at 4:00a.m feeling overwhelmed and taking deep breaths. the one who cries after getting off the phone with a coworker who wanted to ask some questions and set you on your credentialing track. i see you.

two, because social media has turned into a highlight reel and i want to free people from the need to look like they have everything together.

and three, because i sure as heck don't.

life can be fun at times, exciting and so full, and truthfully, mine fits into this category more times than not.

but sometimes, i have a hard time getting out of bed and facing the day. sometimes, my pain surfaces and my heart hurts, and i feel really, really alone and anxious.

and so on those days i take a break from work, use some of the lieu time i have saved up, sit in my backyard and write a blog, because, well, i see you, and i want you to be able to see me, too.

Monday, June 18, 2018

i can relate to the turtle. or at least retreat like one. i peak my head out to see if it's safe, and if it is, i stay awhile. if it's not, i go back into my shell and hide.

it's conflicting, actually. i preach about, and long for, community, but it's ... tiring. at least for me, an enneagram two, it is.

i listened to a podcast the other day about this sort of thing, actually, and something stuck out to me: we enneagram twos, "the helpers", feel like no one will love us if we stop "doing things" for them. no one will love me if they i stop encouraging people or making them laugh, for example. but what if i can't? and sometimes, i can't. sometimes, i'm moody AF (thats what the kids say these days). sometimes, i feel sad, angry, anxious, overwhelmed.

the truth is, i hate this side of me, and subconsciously, if i'm not careful, i can project that hate onto other people.

and so back in my shell i go. i lock myself in my room, turn off my phone and hide under the covers until i decide to come out again.

"did you hear so and so died?". back to my bubble.

"paula, i need you to pray for me". back in my shell.

of course, this isn't the norm, thankfully. i'd be happy to listen and pray with you, or make you laugh.

but sometimes, i can't. sometimes, i need to retreat to my room, turn out the light and lie down in peace.

yesterday was one of those days, and today, though i've made my way down to the living room, is, too.

it won't last, though. tomorrow, i have to lead a few dozen american students on an educational street walk through toronto for gateway's men shelter. wednesday, i have small group. thursday and friday i'm in the office with my summer students. saturday, regent park, and sunday, the team arrives from new brunswick and i'm tied up for the week.

truthfully, i feel overwhelmed just typing this out.

but, as i sit here, i am reminded of a story found in exodus 16.

the gist of it? the israelites thought they were going to starve in the desert (fair), but then the Lord said to moses,"i will rain down bread from heaven for you. the people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day" (vs. 4).

let’s pick the story up in verse 13:

"that evening quail came and covered the camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. when the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. when the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, “what is it?” for they did not know what it was.

moses said to them, “it is the bread the Lord has given you to eat. this is what the Lord has commanded: ‘everyone is to gather as much as they need. take an omer for each person you have in your tent'”

the Israelites did as they were told; some gathered much, some little. and when they measured it by the omer, the one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little. everyone had gathered just as much as they needed.

then Moses said to them, “no one is to keep any of it until morning.”

however, some of them paid no attention to moses; they kept part of it until morning, but it was full of maggots and began to smell. and moses was angry with them"
(verses 13-20)

(hopefully you ate dinner before reading this.)

i don't know about you, but i can find myself in this verse.

the Bible would tell us not to worry about tomorrow (so would many wise people) for "tomorrow has enough worry of its own" (how encouraging.)

but there's something to be said about only 'collecting' that which we need for the day ahead, or if you will, trusting God, "Our Daily Bread", for it each and every day.

need strength and energy to lead a street walk? it will meet you in the morning. grace to get you through that meeting? courage to have a tough conversation? guidance to make that important decision? that's waiting for you, too. and i'll choose that over maggots any day.

at least, i'll try to.

Monday, June 11, 2018

the (again, not my) cat swatted at me today.

i had put her on her leash (you read that right) and placed her under her favourite tree. at least, i think it's her favourite tree. it sure is mine.

any ways, i heard her infamous "attack hiss" (which sounds more like fear than bravery), followed by a hiss i wasn't familiar with. i get up, follow her death stare (she needs a stare of death to make up for her pathetic hiss) and notice a very ugly cat under the deck i was sitting on. and i mean ugly; the thing had four different colours of skin fur on its face. can we say H-I-D-E-O-U-S?! and there was no way i was letting my friend's cat get attacked by a hideous one.

so i swopped down to save her life, only to get hissed at myself. AND swatted in the face.

thankfully, she's declawed (hence the leash), but still. i now have four different colour bruises on my right cheek and look like the stalker cat i was trying to save her from in the first place.

all kidding aside, this got me thinking.

trying to rescue people from (insert any issue here) isn't necessarily the best thing for them (or even what they need.)

i picked up a book at chapters the other day titled, "when helping hurts: how to alleviate poverty without hurting the poor and yourself" and i'm excited to dive into it and put this into practice once i finish the last few chapters of "everybody always" by bob goff (very easy, amusing and challenging (in the best way possible) read, by the way.)

hopefully, this book doesn't throw punches.

Wednesday, June 6, 2018

i slept in my mom's bed last night, and, as always, found it very comforting. there are beautiful remnants of her everywhere.

her stuff is still piled in the spare room.

she couldn't take her stuff with her, you know. and neither can you. remember that while you still can, and spend your time investing in what matters the most instead: people and relationships.

there's a sign above her bed that reads "a mother holds her child’s hand for just a short time, but holds their heart forever", and it reminds me of a time where i held her hand, too.

my sister and brother were heading on a much needed vacation, so i made the trek to ottawa to spend a week with my mom while they were away.

everything was amazing until her stomach started filling up with fluid, causing her a great deal of pain. since it had happened before, we knew the drill; we had to make a trip to emerge.

it took the whole night to drain her - 13 lbs to be exact - and i held her hand the whole time. she grabbed it and held it tightly, actually, because, well, moms get scared and need comfort, too.

we were up for 36 hours by the time she was released. we pulled up to my sister's house, and hit our next obstacle: the front step. my mom was too weak to make it to the front door, and i tried everything. encouragement. physical help. strategy. everything. nothing worked. a half an hour later (no joke), i asked her what i could do to help, to which she replied in frustration, "get a new mom".

i held back the tears. she did, too. i didn't want a new mom; i wanted her to be well. and she didn't mean it; she wanted to be well, too.

a few minutes later, remembering the step ladder that i had seen in the kitchen, i mentioned it to her and she lit up. (even as i type this i can remember the hope in her voice.) and you know something? it worked; she made it up the step and inside the door!

knowing that she wouldn't be able to make it up the next three steps required to get into the living room, i brought her a chair. my mother could fall asleep anywhere, and she did. she quickly drifted off - jacket on and all - and i sat on the steps crying out to the Lord for rest and healing for her, and strength for me. i was barely holding on. we were barely holding on.

the next night, she not only made it up the three stairs into the living room, but she conquered the whole flight of stairs between the first and second floor. i tucked her in that night, in the very same bed that i slept in last night, and told her i loved her. "love you too, paula", she said. "i hope tomorrow's better".

i'll never forget that night for as long as i live. it was hard - really hard - but it was also the night i remember the most when i feel like i can't go on and need to remember that i can. because my mom did. and because i did, and still do, without her.

love you, mom. happy you're still with me. not in the way that i wish you could be, but with me none-the-less! xo

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

i found a journal entry i wrote on november 11, 2016 and you're going to want to read it:

"mark my word. one day, i will have a place downtown toronto where youth (and whoever wants to, really), can come stay the week or weekend, learn about homelessness and other social issues in the city, have the opportunity to serve in local soup kitchens and the like, hear real-life stories that break down the pre-conceoved ideas that they (we) have about those on the margins of society and challenge the barriers of judgement that we so easily build around our hearts.

but for now, i will hand out water through 'operation hydration.'

after all, every dream begins with a small step"


little did i know when i wrote this, that i would feel the call to quit my job two months later to pursue this very dream of mine, and now, just under two years later, i am living it out.

may this be an encouragement to you, dear friends.

keep going! small steps matter, hard work pays off and perseverance is (often) rewarding.

Sunday, June 3, 2018

it was a week i will always remember.

leading up to it, i was apprehensive. fully loaded schedules have never been my thing and the fact that i had to spend eight long days with people i barely knew (and a lot that i didn't know at all) scared me.

and yet my biggest prayer going into this was that i would keep my heart open. to God. to others. to what i would learn and in ways in which i knew i needed to grow. thankfully, all of the above were answered, and i left hamilton feeling renewed. healed. more passionate. different. changed.

during one of our activities, lectio divina (a fancy name for studying and contemplating the Word), i found myself reading ephesians 3:14-21, only i couldn't get past the first sentence.

"for this reason, i bow my knees before the Father" (in prayer)

"for what reason?", i thought. a question that forced me to go back a chapter and start there.

in reading the previous verses and chapter (and from knowing about some of his life before this), it was (is) evident that the apostle paul had a burden for the church, a burden that caused him to kneel and pray to the One who gave him his vision and burden in the first place, his Father.

i couldn't (and can't) stop thinking about how powerful these three words are and how crucial it is that i, too, 'fall to my knees in prayer'. after all, i can't - and don't want to - do anything without Him.

or the people that He has intentionally placed in my life, either.

i made a point to make sure that i got to connect with everyone at least once during our week of training and for the most part, i succeeded at this. a lot of the conversations i had with my new friends resonate with my heart and spirit even now and has left me feeling thankful and inspired. there really are really great people out there.

i also made it a point to get to know my own teammates better. our GTA team has eighty-ish people on it, working in different ministries and departments, making it hard for us to connect with one another on a daily basis. getting away with five of them was life-giving and really, really fun.

though they are all wonderful, one friendship in particular was really healing for me.

enter loreli.

i met her in the office not too long ago, and walked away knowing that there was something different about her. i told her this, actually, because, well, i am firm believer in telling people what i see in them/think about them. maybe too much.

any ways. someone tagged her on facebook that week and naturally, i creeped her page. (i see you, fellow creepers). i ended up sending her an email letting know that i creeped her and that i had been impressed with some of the stuff she had written. her response? "please don't just creep me - add me". i knew in that very moment that we would become friends, and now thanks to way too many diet cokes (although i don't know that one can say that about diet coke), a few really life-changing and life-giving heart to hearts, and a ton of deep bellied laughs, we are - and i consider myself very, very lucky.

back to the whole prayer thing.

during one of our talks, i confessed (for lack of a better word) something that i have been struggling with on and off for 15 years now and had recently reared its ugly head. she listened, asked the right questions, and then asked if she could pray with me. we sat on a bench at 11:00 at night where she fought my battle on my behalf, and i got up from that bench feeling less alone in my struggle and empowered to fight it once and for all.

what if that very prayer she prayed in faith freed me of something that i have been bound to off and on for years, i wondered? (please, Lord, let it be so!)

so what did i learn during my week at SI?

one, that prayer is powerful and necessary and that i need to do more of it (which includes listening).

two, that i'm not alone; there are countless people who understand the nature of the 'work that i do' and are just as passionate about theirs.

and three, i consider myself extremely lucky to be able to live such a rich, beautiful life.

thanks, God, for being so safe and trustworthy and for knowing what is truly BEST for this girl. you are the source of all that i am and the keeper of my heart.

thanks, SI peeps, for being interested in my life, spending time with me, asking good questions, sharing YOUR life with ME and allowing me the honour of doing the same to you. we're better together.

and lastly, to my beloved SI leadership team, thank you for every ounce of work you put into last week and all of the investment you made into my life through prayer, conversation and most importantly, by example. i'm forever grateful.

Sunday, May 20, 2018

you realize that i just don't have the words, don't you? that i'm not being an ass when i shut down and stare at you blankly when you ask me what's wrong or what i'm thinking? i don't know that there are words to describe this illogical darkness that i carry around with me. trust me, i've searched for them.

i do know that it's not welcome and that i have prayed it away - pleaded it away - every single time it decided to rear its ugly head and every time it still does. i pray with my whole heart, wondering why on earth i've been given this demon to fight. it's ruining my life, and frankly, i'm exhausted from fighting it.

that's what depression does; it exhausts you.

it also blindsides you.

mind you, there are triggers at times, too. for me they come in the way of not feeling like i belong somewhere or that i'm being overlooked. it peaks its head when i'm feeling really lonely (especially the 'no one understands me' kind, which surfaced when i lost my mom) or spend too much time alone. and it surfaces when i'm feeling deeply insecure or inadequate.

recognizing the triggers is half the battle, right?

but then what? (this is not something i am looking for you to answer, nor do i want you to.)

i have the tools i need to make it through. i force myself to get out of bed and get outside where i am now, eat (relatively) right, exercise, do things that bring me life etc. i have a counsellor on hand when i need her and a job that enables me to pay for her. i try and reach out to friends. i worship and pray and muster up enough energy to remember scripture that will help, and does help, me through.

i tell myself i am good enough and loved. smart. gifted. kind. compassionate. full of joy. all of which i am proud to be.

but then i look around and feel left out. people are car pooling without me, or planning vacations without me, or sharing meals together (damn you social media) and my birthday comes and i have no plans two days before and i am sitting at my computer trying to muster enough courage to buy one ticket to a musical i am dying to see.

one ticket.
table for one, please.

that's it, isn't it? the fact i feel so alone? but how does one fix that without the co-operation of other people? without people seeing your need?

solitude is one thing. i need alone time to reflect and be quiet. (yes, even me). but too much of it is really, really hard. and suffocating.

my parents are gone, my family lives hours away, my housemate is rarely home (i don't blame her), my desk is at the back of the office where people rarely are, and the church i go to is great, but 1) i'm a leader there and people look to me accordingly (ministry is lonely in and of itself) and 2) i can't attend the service at the moment because of my role.

so ... i shut down and give up. what else is there to do? i've tried everything and i'm getting really tired of these deep and intense mood swings (and the deep rooted anger behind it all) and want more than anything to be healthy and whole. (as whole as i can be on this side of the world, that is.)

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

i was in love once. for seven years, actually.

his name was api and he made me 'hapi'; he was tall, dark, and handsome, just the way i like 'em, but his heart? even more beautiful! it was bigger than he was, steadfast, full of compassion and dedicated to serving the God he put all of his faith in.

the only 'downfall?' he lived in fiji (we met in hong kong), and at the time, i didn't want to leave everything i knew and move to his beautiful white sand-filled island (this sounds even more appealing to me now that i type this) so we tried everything we could to get him here. a while later, he stopped talking to me out of the blue. nine months later, thanks to Facebook, i found out why; he had a baby with some woman who loves white sand more than i do, and they are currently (i suspect), making sand castles on the beach together as api serenades them with his beautiful voice and wooden guitar. on a beach. (you got that part, right?)

i miss this particular fijian hunk even more every time i open an email on christian cafe (stay away from that site, ladies - the only way men and coffee mix is in the book of he-brews). the 'someone emailed you' email has become quite the dreadful experience (or, at the very least, a humourous one). i have one stalker from india who has emailed me creepy emails in the past and continues to view my profile at least once a day, another from close by who does the same (and emails me at least once a month forgetting that he already has), and, as i believe i've mentioned before, really old men who like to show me that their eyelids still work at that age by winking at me. repeatedly.

all kidding aside, i haven't really opened myself up to the idea of dating (or marriage) since. partially because of the selection (api raised the bar), but mostly because i am petrified of commitment of any kind (especially the relational kind) and have told myself (and believed) that it will never happen for me.

BUT in time, we grow (at least we should), and i have been working on my trust and commitment issues by ways of my current jobs (i am about to renew my contract with one of them) and through relationships with friends who have proven to be safe. the man thing will come. in fact, i have a lady in regent park who fervently prays for one to come along (and reminds me of this each and every week) and an adorable six year old boy who likes to remind me of the same. God hears their prayers. and he hears the ones that i have started to pray for myself this week, too.

'awaken this part of my life, Oh Lord. help me to trust love and trust you and your timing. and please, for the love of God (the love of you?), please don't let me be a cat lady. i hate cats (which you know because you created me.)' amen.

ps. this post was written with the intent to share my life with you and make you smile; no need to fill my comment section with things like "you should try this dating site - so and so met her husband there" (i know, i've been on most of them) or "God has the perfect guy for you" ones. He does, but i may have missed the boat. literally; fiji is an island ... a beautiful island filled with white sand, gorgeous hunks who play guitar and the bongos, beautiful palm trees, and never ending sun and piña coladas ;)

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

i've changed my eating habits and have been doing a workout program for the past few weeks. i'm down four pounds, multiple inches and a few chins (the latter being of utmost importance obviously), and feel like a million bucks.

today's (yoga) workout video (which i sucked at, by the way) reminded me of something much more important, though: the importance of balance.

is physical self-care important? absolutely. eating healthy does wonders and exercise has been proven to strengthen your body, help you get a six pack (though i seem to have more of a 40 ounce at the moment), and increase your mental stamina. exercise is good.

and so are clothes (please wear clothes); there's nothing wrong with wearing an outfit that makes you feel good. in fact, i would encourage it. confidence is life-changing.

but an inner confidence is better, and more sustainable. after all, there's a lot more to you than what meets the eye.

and so as much as i have been working on my physical health lately, i've been just as intentional about working on the rest of me, too.

i've been reading books to challenge my intellect and keep my brain sharp, processing my feelings through journaling and counselling to keep my emotions in check, and reading my Bible and attending conferences to keep my heart right and my life centred in Christ (which, i would easily argue, is the most important one of all.)

at the end of the day, there's no sense in working on your physique if your heart and soul aren't being worked on, too. truth be told, your looks will eventually fade, your boobs will sag, and your image will catch up with you one day. will you be happy with who you are then? work on balance now and i bet you you will!

"what matters is not your outer appearance — the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes — but your inner disposition. cultivate inner beauty, the gentle, gracious kind that God delights in" [1 peter 3:3-4 MSG]

AMEN.

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

i learned (re-learned) a few valuable lessons as i faced my scary thing today.

1. the stuff i wrote in yesterday's blog post (see below) really works. not that i doubted that, obviously, as these are tools i have compiled and used along the way, but it feels pretty darn good to be able to take your own advice and benefit from it.

2. anxiety (almost always) lies. things don't turn out as half as bad as they feel like they will the night before.

3. i can "do hard things" (thanks, jenn khan) and endure anything, and so can YOU.

4. courage is empowering.

and lastly, so is a thoughtful text from a friend.

(and now we await the results.)

in the meantime, i am working on a workshop that my colleague and i are teaching this week in markham, getting ready for 'ladies night out' in regent park and our women's conference this weekend, and feeling really happy that i get to watch my favourite biagini pitch in today's double header against the royals. what more could one ask for, really?

until next time, friends.

Monday, April 16, 2018

sometimes, you have to face scary, uncomfortable things.

it could be in the form of of a hard conversation. or the need to get on an airplane even though they petrify you, or the need to visit someone really sick in a hospital room or show up to a funeral without knowing what to say. (who does, really?)

other times, it can come in the form of a doctor's appointment. like the one i have scheduled for tomorrow morning.

i've been having problems with my uterus (sorry, fellas), or right kidney (they're not sure) the past few months. sharp pains and jabs, to be exact. and frankly, it scares me. why? because i play the 'what if?' game a lot and because my mom died of uterine cancer. (worst case scenerio.)

of course, it could be a cyst, or something not life-altering, but it also could be the complete opposite, and it's going to take a really uncomfortable test to figure it out. (just writing that makes me cringe.)

but like i said, sometimes, you have to face scary, uncomfortable things.

but how?

here are three things that have helped me face scary things in the past (and will help me do the same tomorrow morning):

1. remind yourself that others have endured the very thing you fear.

i am not the first woman to have to go through with this dumb test (or the last), and i am certainly not the only one who has faced internal complications. if someone else can get through it, so can i. (and so can you.)

2. tell someone your fears and bring them to the light.

we all need people in our lives that we're comfortable enough to share our fears with. no need for over sharing (though some of you think i went there already with this blog lol), but bringing your fears into the light can make you feel less alone in it/them. more often than not, the person you're sharing with can help you process and help you shed some perspective on that which has the ability to paralyze you. don't let it paralyze you - share your fears with someone you trust.

and lastly, and most importantly,

3. train your brain to stop dwelling on the worst case scenerio and the 'what ifs?'.

listen, i am a huge fan of feeling and processing and i think both are important, but nobody gains anything by sitting at home and picturing your plane hitting the ground at rapid speed or your test results coming back negative. are both a possibility? sure. but we don't have control over such things, so why dwell on things that we can't control?

my counsellor back in the day taught me a valuable lesson; he told me that not only do our brains naturally pull towards the negative, but that in order to conquer those thoughts (which i have since learned is possible), we have to replace them with something positive.

i have a few incredible memories on hand: the time i checked the last remaining thing off of my original bucket list and jumped out of a fully functioning airplane, the time i saw a dream of mine come true when i brought a group of teenagers with me to africa and how we watched a whole village of people dance and praise God FOR HOURS when they saw that someone back home had donated a bunch of brand new cups and bowls for them to use for their porridge, or the day when i found out my good friend had bought me tickets to a jays' playoff game and how we couldn't stop screaming (and crying) when we waved our white flags in victory.

any time i find myself dwelling on something negative, i automatically re-live one of the above memories, and it works every single time.

but even still, sometimes (a lot of the time), you need to dwell on something far more powerful, too. like scripture.

verses like 1 Peter 5:7 that remind me to 'cast all of my anxiety on Him because He cares for me (you)'. or isaiah 41:10 that tells me (us) that i (we) don't have to fear because the Lord is with me (us). or, one of my favourites (today especially), philippians 4:6-7, do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation (including doctors appointments), by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. and - get this - the peace that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus".

feeling fearful? choose peace.

Thursday, April 12, 2018

this.

i’ve been reading (and re-reading) this ever since jen hatmaker posted it a few weeks ago:

"Going to church is saving my life right now. Now mind you, ours is a specific kind of church. Really simple and inclusion-y and Methodist-y (< that will make sense to the Methodists). Yesterday, two women led worship, a female assistant Superintendent preached, two women led the prayer team, and a woman gave communion. A young gay man came to church alone because after being an atheist, he found Jesus two weeks ago in the pages of our friend Colby Martin's book, Unclobbered, and can't believe how radically his soul is changing. (Being loved by Jesus and His people will rearrange your spiritual DNA, that's a fact.) Another woman came for the first time in years and told me, "I thought I was no longer a Christian because I departed from my fundamentalist upbringing, and they told me I wasn't. But I am. I think I just haven't found the right room." So she bravely came to church alone. Our whole lobby was filled with shoes and supplies you sent from all over the US for our homeless friends on Easter...we literally got another UPS shipment during church. Listen, church is the most imperfect thing I can think of. It is. It can wound as much as it heals, and it sometimes shuts its doors when Jesus bid us "go to the street corners and invite anyone you can find." It gets much wrong because people lead it and we are a historic mess. But if we can take the idea of "church" out of its weird, fancy, western context, out of the realm of entertainment, off the pedestal of perfect leaders and shiny living, away from the barely disguised goal of self-help, apart from the evil of protected hierarchy and exclusionary doctrines, and bring it all down to the ground, into the streets, around the table, and to its knees, church can be the most healing, life transformative place to meet the real Jesus...the one who loves us all and upended power structures and valued every outcasted person made in His image. Church and Christians can so strangely keep us from Jesus, but if you find a faith community that feels like the gospels and prioritizes our neighbors and sticks together even though their leaders are just medium and stuff goes sideways, hang on for dear life. That messy, kind of lame, rag-tag bunch of folks just might save your life too".

the truth is, i get it. church in regent park ‘saved my life’. and so did youth unlimited. the truth is, i’m surrounded by wonderful, loving, safe people. imperfect people, but safe people. people who want the best for me. people who love me well.

love takes on different forms, you know. sometimes it looks like giving me a ride or lending me a couch. other times, it looks like correcting me and restoring me gently.

if you don’t have people like this in your life, please find some. and if you’re tired of looking for them or too scared to trust people again (i was there), let me introduce you to my regent park/YU fam. you’ll love them, i swear. and they’ll love YOU, too.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

he was my tray guy.

you see, one week we were short volunteers (which rarely happens) and allen was eager to help.

"sure, man", i said. "it would be a great help if you could be my tray guy and make sure that all of these trays get wiped and put away." he nodded and smiled.

let me tell you, HE WAS THE BEST TRAY GUY EVER.

he not only cleaned the ones i pointed out, but he took it upon himself to track down every other used tray, and didn't leave until there wasn't an unclean one in sight.

so when he approached me after dinner the following week asking if i needed some help, it was no a brainer. i pointed him to the trays.

let me tell you, allen faithfully wiped every single tray for me for the next few months.

that is, until he passed away last week. at age 37. because of a blood clot, making him the first person i personally know from regent park to pass away. and frankly, it stings.

but it also wakes me up. and sets a fire under my butt. and reminds me of the important role that my church and i have there. to reflect christ. extend grace and love. help people feel part of something and let our friends clean trays.

i couldn't walk by the tray rack last week without thinking about my friend allen and i have a feeling that i won't be able to this week, either. or next - or ever - and i hope that every time i do, i remember how important he was to us and how much he belonged, and that i never lose the urgency to do what i can to ensure that the rest of my regent park family knows that they're important and that they belong, too.

Monday, April 2, 2018

what is 5,486 feet long, 308 feet tall, and hits a top speed of 92 miles/hour? (thanks, wikipedia)

the leviathan, of course.

i have a love-hate relationship with this particular roller coaster. i love every minute of the actual ride. the anticipation. the buckling in. the brief "there's no turning back now" moment on the way up. the drop - especially the drop - the tunnel. heck, the whole darn thing.

but what i hate about this particular ride is how dull it makes every other ride look. the vortex bores me now. the dragon fire? not even worth lining up for. everything else seems boring in comparison.

it's kind of like how i feel now that i've been skydiving; everything feels so dull compared to signing your life away, and nothing - i repeat, nothing - is as thrilling as that split second you find yourself pulling your shoot in hopes that it'll open or the free fall that comes seconds before it.

isn't life like a roller coaster sometimes? for me it is, any ways. maybe you guys are all on the ground eating a funnel cake while i'm getting free chiropractic work on the mimebuster, i don't know. (SERIOUSLY, THOUGH - THOSE WOODEN ROLLER COASTERS ARE CHEAPER THAN A CHIROPRACTOR.)

any ways.

i learned something valuable about myself after the montreal team left: it's really important for me to have something to look forward to after a really high high. (a friend of mine recommended that, actually.)

my heart was so full that week. i was living my dream. hanging out with youth in my favourite city. bridging the gap between my students and those stricken with poverty. using my gifts. i seriously could have come home, did my laundry, and started all over again. i felt so alive.

and then, after a day of rest (that's all i really need physically), i felt the opposite; bored and purposeless. i had way too much time on my hands and 'nothing' to do with it.

the vortex. i was on the vortex.

but here's the thing. while the vortex may not be as appealing as the leviathan (or half as cool), it's still in the same park; a really, really, fun park. with cotton candy and funnel cake.

life can seem dull, sure. one day, things are great, and the next, not so great. one week, we have a lot going on, and the next, not enough. but it's all a gift.

i had to remind myself of this when depression creeped in out of nowhere, knocked me off of my feet, and left me feeling suffocated and gasping for air this week. (only those who suffer will know that i'm not trying to be dramatic here.)

but, thanks to God's love and compassion and my ability to scrape myself out of bed, have a bath, and attend an easter dinner i was invited to (which just so happened to be a surprise (early) birthday party for me also!), i'm not only breathing again, but i'm buckled in in anticipation of what's ahead: my quarterly review at work, teaching our alpha course on wednesday in regent park and a pre-trip workshop on homelessness to a group of students in elmvale (does anyone even know where this is? j/k) after that. and then it's my birthday. lots going on. the leviathan.

but don't worry - i learned my lesson last time around and booked a short two and half day trip to ottawa right after that, because, well, you gotta have things to look forward to, and as i was reminded of last week, family time is good for the soul.

Monday, March 26, 2018

i'll never forget it as long as i live.

i was at counselling at lakeshore camp when the speaker called us up to pray for students who needed healing. i felt uncomfortable - the topic of healing made me feel that way back then (and sometimes still does) - but i had no choice; i was wearing a lanyard that read 'counsellor', and, well, he called up all of the counsellors.

i looked across the altar and felt drawn to this particular youth, went up to him, asked him what he needed healing from and he said his feet. curious as to what was wrong with them, i asked him, and he told me that he had flat feet and that they were very, very painful.

so i got down on the ground, laid hands on his feet and prayed with as much faith as i could muster up in that moment.

next thing you know, his foot re-formed in my hand, and truthfully, as much as i believed in what i was praying (and even more than that, who i was praying to), i didn't really expect that, and so i jumped back in disbelief.

next, we had this particular student stand in a bucket of water and then step onto some paper towel. had his feet have still been flat, his whole foot would have shown up on the paper towel, but it didn't; only his heel and the part where his toes started did! low and behold, he was, in fact, 'heeled' (sorry, had to), and i will never forget it for as long as i live!

but, there have been times where i have prayed for someone to be healed and have seen zero results, too. my parents being two of them. i prayed many prayers that my dad would get better and that the cancer that my filled my mom's body would disappear, and i prayed with a faith that once saw a healing occur, because healings occur.

but sometimes, they don't. at least, in the ways we expect them to. and i wrestled through this while i visited my uncle garry this past week who is fighting cancer and severe pneumonia simultaneously.

but even still, i couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he has outlasted every single one of his immediate family members (his wife, son, and brothers) and how broken his heart has been since. the most important healing is one of the heart and soul, after all. and sometimes, if i'm being honest, this changes how i pray.

jesus walked the earth healing people. he had the power to do that, and i believe he still does. but he also healed people's souls, and hearts, and promised that if we believe in him, and follow him, that there will come a day when we will receive our healing in full.

until then, although i do believe in physical healing (after all, i saw this happen right before my very own eyes) and will continue to pray for this when asked to/feel led to, i will continue to pray that God does what he does best: be present; that he would show up and surround my uncle in his hospital room and give him peace, be close to my sister as she searches for her lost pet, protect my friend and the beautiful baby in her womb as she's on bed rest, heal my friend's heart as she mourns the loss of her mom, give my family in regent park the strength to keep going, and the list goes on.

whatever that looks like for you today, whatever you're going through, physical or not, and in whichever way you need him to be, my prayer for YOU today is this: that Jesus would be near.

AMEN.

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

i opened my inbox only to find an email that the executive director of montreal's YFC wrote as he was watching the students present their trip to those who weren't there, himself included. the email read: "thank you for your investment in our kids' lives and the example you were to them. you inspired them to live differently and see people differently."

my heart couldn't help but explode.

you see, i don't always get to see the fruit (result) of a trip like this. don't get me wrong; i spend almost 24 hours with the students while they're here. i get to be a part of their learning experience and process and witness (some of) the change they experience, but my 'job, with the exception of a few follow up phone calls/meetings and the few relationships i may carry on, ends when their trip does. so hearing about the evidence of change in the youths' lives, from someone who wasn't on the trip especially, is invaluable to my team and i.

so many people are affected by a trip like this: the students, the team as a whole, the organizations that work day in and day out to make a difference in the heart of our city, our friends on the margins of society, and those who have the honour of leading such a trip, including myself.

below are some of the students' comments taken from their end-week evaluations:

"i learned in an entirely new way that there is really no difference between the "haves" and "have nots", homeless or housed."

"being with different kinds of people has stretched me in positive ways that i'm thankful for. simply learning how to interact with everyone has been a unique experience as oppose to just "sticking to your comfort zone."

"i learned how to manage people when they were upset, and to understand my teammates better. i realize that God has a plan growing everywhere, you just have to look for it. and i am also a bit more compassionate."

"i learned that humility, patience, perseverance and compassion can make so much difference"

"i learned to be more patient with people and i felt more connected with God while i was on this trip"

"i felt God's presence when certain people were telling their stories."

"God taught me to be a more Godly leader."

"i've never been this happy"

"the world is so much bigger than myself and problems beyond my capability to fix, but by helping the world one problem and one person's life at a time, i can make a difference with help from the Lord"

"personally, i grew a lot. i learned to show how i really feel when i usually throw those feelings out. i feel that my relationship with God improved immensely".

"i learned that numbers (in regards to an issue) doesn't mean as much as i thought it did. you need to think about who the people on the street really are and remember that they have a story".

"i grew in my faith in my Heavenly Father. right before the trip i was really stressed about it, but i learned to pray when my team and i were walking in the city. i prayed about anything. i learned to put a smile on any ways - even when i was feeling sick or hurting inside because of what happened right before the trip"

... and the list goes on. (a list i will continue to read and reflect on.)

so, as you can see from the above comments, we can (thankfully) check off every goal we had for this trip:

- the team was able to connect with one another and appreciate their team (and the importance of teamwork) more.

- they realize how life-giving and 'easy' serving others can be and how it helps us take our focus off of our own problems and life (even if it is temporary) - see last comment.

- they grew in humility and compassion.

- they acknowledge that while 'homelessness and poverty' is a mass city-wide (and global) issue, it is made up of unique stories and individual people.

- and most importantly, students experienced (and connected to) God (something that isn't forced by any nature, but naturally happens on a trip like this), grew in their relationship with Him and were moved by His desire for us to love and serve Him and others!

and as for me, i did, too.

i'm still processing what i experienced personally, but i will say this: i am even more confident of the call on my life now that i have seen a seed that the Lord planted in my heart seven years a go come to fruition.

to every single one of you who have given to me and/or 'my' ministry, pray(ed) for me, or sent me an encouraging text or email throughout the duration of the trip, thank you for planting seeds with me! i couldn't have done it without you!

"i planted the seed, apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow". (1 corinthians 3:6)

Monday, March 19, 2018

it was shared over 650 times and liked over 800.

a black (relevant) male wrote a frustrating status about a gaming/coffee establishment, claiming that he and his date were refused alcohol at 10:00 on a saturday night because "the server was racist". people went buck wild; friends and strangers alike drafted comment after comment stating that they, too, were disgusted with this company and had planned on boycotting it from that moment on.

now, let it be said that racism still exists and is terribly wrong, and truthfully, as a white female, i cant speak of it (i wont here, either), but what i can speak of is our tendency to view things through our insecurities and/or through the lens of our pain.

let me explain what i mean using this specific example (followed by an example out of my own life.)

let it be said that i was able to read this particular status and the comments below it as an outsider; i had no personal connection to the man who wrote it or any opinion of snakes and lattes whatsoever. i was just simply a girl reading a status that a friend of mine had shared.

a few observations.

one, he started off his status stating his race and how successful he was as a black male (which he has since taken down.) to me, this shows his desire to prove himself because of his race, which again, is not something i can personally understand, but also a level of insecurity (which we all have) and a desire to 'prove people wrong' because of it.

he then sets the scene stating that he and his latin american girlfriend were the only visible "non white people in the whole establishment" (which is hard to believe seeing as how this particular coffee shop is located right in the heart of one of north america's most multi-cultural cities, but i wasn't there) and were not greeted at the door by a cheerful hostess. (i am one of the most energetic people you will meet and there were times in my hospitality career as a server and a manager that i did not greet people in a cheerful manner, either. it's unfortunate, but it happens, especially in the midst of a chaotic night.)

after a nice staff member helped them find a game they'd like, their server, "emma" dropped some waters off and said she would be right back. "15-30 minutes" later, she returned and apologized for the delay (again, this sadly happens during peak hours.). long story short (too late?), they asked for alcohol and emma said she wasn't comfortable serving them because she is liable for any decisions she makes as a server (which is true) and thought they were intoxicated.

next thing you know, she's being accused of being racist because 1) she allegedly mistook his girlfriend's accent for slurring (his words) and 2) she, as he claims, wasn't comfortable serving them because of the colour of the skin. so he took it to facebook, tagging every single news source out there. the scary thing? over 1000 people took on his hurt and hate and spread it without even knowing the truth.

again, let it be said that racism does exist and it's terrible, but none of us know what happened that day (including myself) because we weren't there. the almost 700 people who shared his status weren't there. nor were the 800 people who liked it or commented on it. or the countless other people who took it upon themselves to fuel the fire by trash talking snakes and lattes on their business page and by refusing to go back. the only person who really knows if she's racist is emma.

but what i do know is this: if we're not careful, we may start to look at things through the lens of our previous experience and just as likely to start viewing things through our present wounds.

"i got fired because i'm black" (something someone once said to me). is this possible? yes. does racism exist? absolutely. but truth be told, they hired you while you were black, too.

"my boss hates me because i'm gay". could this be true? sure - homophobia is real (and just as terrible) - but it may not be the case, either. maybe the boss 'hates' you because you're late all of the time and unproductive. or (insert any other reason here.)

"i keep getting overlooked because i'm overweight" (something i tricked myself into believing for a time). ummmmm not true; fat people get married, too. (being overweight cant be compared to racism or homophobia, i know. but the same principle can be applied here, too; if we let our insecurities and wounds lead the way, we can all find reasons why we aren't our boss's favourite, don't get served alcohol, miss a job opportunity, etc.)

i've been thinking about this status for a month now. not just because of this particular one, but because of countless other things i have seen and heard of similar accord lately. even, and especially, in my own life.

i'm going to be vulnerable here.

i'm petrified of being rejected and abandoned. like P-E-T-R-I-F-I-E-D. the healthy part of me (which thanks to my healing journey is 90-95% of the time), doesn't let my past full of either seep into my present and current relationships, but, if i'm not careful, the unhealthy side of me can, and will.

i've felt like a basket case ever since my montreal team left. so many emotions all at once. excitement and happiness. pride (of good and bad nature.). gratitude. insecurity. deep bouts of loneliness. unpredictable waves of grief. (i haven't experienced the gut wrenching cries like i have this week since shortly after my mom passed away.) - and the list goes on.

truth be told, i feel like my wounds are exposed, and because of that, i feel extra vulnerable, and because of that, i have been living and leading out of place of fear, insecurity and brokenness, instead of health, wholeness and security, and quite frankly, i'm feeling quite overwhelmed because of it.

that's why posts like the above are hard to let go of for me. because i get it. and because i know how damaging it can be when we don't recognize our wounds and cleanse our lens. (rhyming intentional.)

so, i've put some time aside this week to do just that: reflect, recognize, heal, and find my footing again. perhaps, if needed, this week can be that for you, too.