Boundary Study Part 4

  "Oh, the joys of those who do not follow the advice of the wicked." Psalm 1:1

  I don't have to go too far to find wicked advice flooding in. It's in my own head. The negative self talk, the doubt...

  A couple of Sundays ago at church the words, "future tripping" exploded into my thoughts. For those of us living with PTSD, it's hard to imagine a future. I've shared before that imagining what the future might hold is something that has never been part of my life. If anything, thinking about the future fills me with anxiety.

  However, as I sat and did word association flow chart art in church around the future tripping idea, I realize my past is what trips up the future.

  How does this tie into the idea of setting boundaries?

  Because boundary setting is geared at creating the kind of tomorrow I would like to have. Boundary setting creates a foundation of possibility.

  I've been thinking about yesterday's post, about my guilt filled resolve not to call my mom. I wondered if I was actually giving her the silent treatment. (See what I mean about wicked advice?) It's not, because my motivation isn't to punish, it's to allow uninterrupted time for me to work things through with the Lord. 

  I am having to learn the lessons of a child with a whole whack of life under my belt. I can't help but wonder how different it would have been had I been allowed to say, "No." I wonder what difference it would have made had my "No," been heard and respected and not bulldozed over when it didn't align with the formula of child rearing according to Dr. Spock. 

  Oh, Lord, don't let me be bitter about all this.

  "Know your role." Funny how that keeps coming up.

  Perhaps it's easier to think about how badly it triggers an avalanche of emotions when I feel pressured  to do or say something that is in direct conflict with what I believe, think, or feel. Hmmm...those emotions actually signify when a boundary has been violated.

  I think the anger is formed when I am forced to lie to make someone else happy. (That's an impossible task anyways...I can't.)

  Not having boundaries fosters an existence based on deception. It also creates dishonest relationships. Resentment and hatred fill the gaps between the lies. This is not a life that is honouring to God.

  But what happens when I summon up the courage to speak the truth? Does the world come crashing to an end?

  It feels that way sometimes especially when my truth is not heard or respected. Which takes me back to emotional avalanches...and the cycle starts again.

  But how do I stop it? 

  What are some boundaries I could put in place to grind this ugly hamster wheel to a dead stop?

  Oh, Lord, I have no idea!

  Perhaps You could guide me when the time comes.

  I will close in saying that today's revelation about being dishonest has given me huge insight into what the biggest problem is. It's when there are no boundaries but the rules of engagement created by someone else. 

  I have the right to have my own rules of engagement because I am worth it.

 

  

  

  

Boundary Study Part 3

   "God blesses those who are persecuted for doing right, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs." Matthew 5:10

  I made a decision about how I wanted to celebrate my 60th birthday a couple of weeks ago. It's one that has me struggling with the realization that my age, somehow, got this old. I decided to keep it very low key for other reasons as well. The day was spent quietly and wrapped up with going to Home Church. For me, it was a perfect day.

  It meant facing opposition because someone else had an idea of how it should be celebrated and expected me to capitulate like I've always done. It was very difficult to maintain my decision in light of the opposition, in light of how much pressure they put on to do what they wanted. Praise God, I stuck to my guns with the help and encouragement of a friend. This person hasn't called me since. 

  Yah, it's my mom. 

  Just so you know, using the silent treatment as a form of punishment is particularly nasty. 

  To be honest, I have no desire to call her but my inner self is squirming with guilt and the idea that it's my responsibility to fix this. That's the pattern, the burden of false responsibility I've been trained to bear my entire life.

  The resentment is growing. So is my anger at the situation. 

  Somehow I think I am in the wrong but am I?

  Am I?

  "Understand your role."

  Is my role as a daughter to toe the line, regardless of what I might want? Does being a daughter come with trying to pay a debt that will never be repaid? Does it mean I must always put my mom's needs, demands, and expectations above my own needs? Does it mean my decisions must be in line with what she feels "is best?"

  "Do as you are told."

  

  Do I owe her? Do I owe her for adopting me? For taking me in as an infant? For providing for me? For the music lessons, the driving to and from other activities? Do I own her for clothing me as a child? Do I owe her for the money she has given me?   

  Do I have to back down on my resolve to put some healthy boundaries in place? Just to keep the peace?

  It's not peace at all.

  Because I can't continue to live this way. It is so detrimental to my mental, emotional and spiritual well being. Continuing to do things as they have always been done is denying the growth and healing the Lord is fostering as I face this new chapter in my life.

  I am His beloved daughter after all.

  With this birthday comes the realization that it has always been a day that reminds me I was given away. Regardless of the reasons my birth mother had to do this, it is still comes with feelings of rejection. I am reminded of this every single year.

  I have been pondering why my mom adopted me in the first place. I know she wanted two boys but I came available for adoption. What has been surfacing is a growing suspicion that my adoption took place to fill a need as opposed to wanting to give a child the best life possible. 

  My lifelong hesitancy to rock the boat is also rooted in the childlike understanding that if I was given away once, it could happen again. A week and a half of the silent treatment has only reinforced the idea that I am disposable unless I deny all independent needs, thoughts, desires, wishes, abilities, decisions...unless I deny all that God has called me to be!

 

  NO. NO and NO! HE has made it very clear that all of this, all that He has instilled in my heart, soul and mind is meant to be cherished and celebrated. And like all treasure, it needs protecting!

 Boundaries do just that. Help me Lord, to be strong. In Your name I pray. AMEN!  

  .

Boundary Study Part 2

   "Instead, let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes. Put on your new nature, created to be like God--truly righteous and holy." Ephesians 4:23-24

  I spent the afternoon working on a small art prayer. It is a mix of paint and collaging. Prepping the page involved drawing a border around the edge. It made me smile because I learned a long time ago doing this helps contain the emotions within the limits of the paper.

  It is a boundary that protects me from carrying whatever gets stirred up. It is a boundary that makes the work manageable. It is a boundary that creates a safety zone where I can express what is in my heart. Closing the book or sketchpad is another boundary that allows me to say, "Enough for today."

  I began to imagine myself drawing a line around my life. Not only to contain, but to protect. But what do I need to protect?

  The key idea that emerged in the art began with grieving the fact that my, "No," was silenced. Shortly after, I came across a small article with the rules of being a Team Player. Rule #1 stopped me short--You understand your role.

  My role as a child was to keep my parents happy, to do what I was told, to never be emotional be it sad or silly, to never need help, to never be prideful, to never, ever, ever talk back or challenge their authority. My life was to fit into their schedule, their plans, their agenda, no deviations allowed. 

  My role as spouse reads pretty much the same.

  It was never a team at all.

  Other people drew the lines around who I was supposed to be. Ha...they scribbled all over it, too! I don't pretend to understand why although power and the need to control plays a huge part.

  Lord, help me extend some grace, here, for those whose role was skewed by cultural expectations, upbringing and insecurity.

  

  I want to take a moment and express the deep gratitude that God continues to honour my very first prayer as a Christian, "Who am I?"

   That's just the first phase of learning, though, isn't it?

  I know who I am now because God has reinforced His truth over the years. Sometimes I have a hard time believing what He says but that's part of the learning curve. 

  If I can't put boundaries in place to protect myself, I can put boundaries in place to protect all that God has revealed and nurtured and encouraged. It's not being selfish at all. It's guarding the pearls of my soul, heart and mind because they belong to God.

 And, like all things new, it will take practice. But now I have the image of a line around a page that will help me when someone else tries to scribble inside the lines.

  

  

  

Boundary Study Part 1

    "Keep on seeking, and you will find." Mathew 7:7

    I am still dealing with the fallout of Friday's panic attack. The world is terribly loud since the body is still on red alert, hyper-vigilant mode. So much so, it left me unsure if I was up to playing yesterday but the songs needed the flute so I strengthened my resolve and went to church. It meant going a bit later than normal to avoid the systematic chaos of set up because I knew it was more than I could handle. Once the worship part of the service was over I packed up my kit and left, exhausted from keeping a lid on the overwhelm.

  Just so you know, feeling this way is not fun. (An understatement to say the least!)

  Before leaving for the Dominican, the Lord brought to mind a book that sat on the shelf. It's one I read shortly after becoming a new believer. At that point, it was a bit like reading a foreign language but, now, I think I am ready to embrace the lessons contained in its pages.

  It's an older book called Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. I have decided to blog my way through to explore the ideas, understanding and practices of setting boundaries. Although, thanks to an encouraging friend, I asked that the Art of Prayer groups be put on hold!

  Lord, I lift this to you. Help me understand. Guide my eyes and mind to the things You want me to pay particular attention to. Help me be mindful of Your leading as I embark on this learning and healing journey. In Your name, I pray. AMEN

  Boundaries are anything that helps to differentiate you from someone else, or shows where you begin and end. Page 33

  The first chapter of the book contains a fictional biography of a woman, Sherrie. It was easy for me to relate to her situations in life. They mirrored many of my own. The one that leapt up is her idea that personal needs or desires are selfish. 

  Because that's what I was taught.

  It didn't help that the two most important people in my life, parent and spouse, used guilt tripping, manipulation, gas lighting and a whole whack of passive aggressive strategies to make sure I understood my place in the relationships. 

  Subservience isn't serving. Subservience is a ball and chain that weighs you down with the burden of false responsibility. Subservience suffocates self worth. Subservience discredits how much God values us, me.

  The good doctors say that the first word of boundary setting is, "No." Every toddler knows this well.

  It's a word that makes me very uncomfortable. 

  I felt guilty and ashamed for having to leave church yesterday. I felt guilty for speaking up and putting the idea of running groups on temporary hold.

  Hmmm....guilt is feeding the anxiety by stirring up a storm of second guessing and negative self talk. That's something I need to UN-learn.

  "No," seems to accompany the idea that I am less than if the answer isn't, "Yes."

  So, why?

  I have learned that saying, "No," is a punishable offense. It makes me a "bad girl." (I hear you, Cricket.) 

  So my "Yes,"  has been anchored in resentment and duty and obligation. It's not really a, "Yes," at all. 

  FYI: Cricket is the term of endearment my Dad would call me because I sang all the time until the day the music died. I think this is tied in to the monster in my closet which is something I hadn't realized before. He stole the song and put fear in its place.

  Thank you Lord, for making these connections...I wasn't believed about the monster nor was my, "No," ever respected. Eventually, I realized I had no right to say no at all. It was easier to go along with whatever expectations were put on my life...to keep the peace.

  But what about now?

  Now I want to find the peace that comes with being able to determine when to say yes and when to to say no...with zero guilt attached!

  It's going to take some practice. I gotta let my inner toddler loose! And I will give the guilt and shame over to God and pray for strengthened resolve so my NO means NO! And my Yes means Yes! Just as He commands.

PS. There has been an upwelling of grief and sorrow for Cricket and for the women she became. I am getting a strong sense that the monster in the closet had a far deeper impact than I thought. It's come up in several posts lately. It's time to delve deep, to tend the wounds, to find healing as the Lord goes with me into the darkness that was.

  

The Thin Line

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10  

  It was a day yesterday, the kind that's loud and busy and emotional and challenging. Loud and busy drain my reserves rather quickly. Tossing in a couple of extra, last minute things, means leaving work at capacity with tears building in my throat. It's a warning sign that things are about to get worse unless I take the time to rest and recoup. 

  It didn't happen.

  I mentioned the rain we've been having. The sump pump in the basement is running non-stop. It seemed prudent to make sure the back up one was working. It wasn't. So after working a crazy day, I stopped at the local Canadian Tire to purchase a float switch. I hoped that was the problem. It wasn't. The pump was done. Back out I go to buy a pump that suited. It took two stores to find the perfect one.

  It doesn't take long to install them. It seems to happen every 2-3 years because they work very hard to keep the basement dry especially in the spring. Using a rubber joint with circle clamps to connect them into the drainpipes makes pump replacement much easier. No gluing required.

  It barely left me enough time to run through a new song for worship practice and grab a quick dinner.

  To be honest, I was more concerned about how full the river is. Sump pumps can't solve that problem if it decides to escape its banks.

  There was a full house gathered for practice: pianist, drummer, 2 guitarists, three vocalists as well as me. I was having some difficulty with part of the timing in the new song so the leader took a few moments to help figure things out.

  I'd been fighting tears all day...overwhelm has a way of leaking out of my eyes. I lost it. A full on panic attack decided to rear its ugly head. After taking a few moments outside to gather myself together, it seemed prudent to go back in, pack up my kit and leave.

  I am proud of myself for leaving. This wasn't always the case. Before, I'd have just pushed through.

  To be fair, this is only the iceberg's tip. The trip to a busy, noisy, big resort and having no time to recover, really, because my septic bed is failing...it's going to cost a lot of money to fix it. I am working on getting quotes. It's a bit stressful to say the least. I ask the Lord to help me choose the right person for the job and will trust in His provision to pay for it.

  My car needs tending to as well.

  And it's tax time.

  Then I was asked to speak in church about my spiritual practice of using art as prayer. It came with a detailed list of parameters. The same person wanted to know more about it so I shared the little booklet designed for a three day retreat friends were thinking of organizing. All of a sudden, I am being asked to be part of a retreat or to run groups and when and what would it look like and we gotta do this now!!! It fits perfectly with the current teaching! When can we meet to talk about it?

  The tears are in my throat at the thought.

  It takes me several days to recover from a panic attack. It takes time to wind down the fight/flight response because once it's been ignited, it's quick to swing into full gear again. It's like being in red alert mode all the time.

  It makes me rather sad to feel this way because my anxiety levels had improved so much with the Gina program. Only God knows if I will ever be healed permanently. And I have to realize too, that feeling this way is also a trigger that reminds me of other panic attacks and the reasons they happened.

  I don't know if I will be up to playing in the service tomorrow. All my nerves are firing. It feels like the pins and needles you get when your arm falls asleep but it's caused by an adrenalin overload. 

  For now, in this moment, and for the rest of the day, I will lean into the Lord for His help as I walk the thin line between chaos and calm.  No one else will do.

  

 This has been a long post but I keep hearing the idea that all of this is about things I have no control over. Nothing says this more than a panic attack!

  Years ago, someone called me a control freak. It was rather unkind because the name calling came after she was trying to bully me into something I wasn't sure about. 

  Being unsure is okay. Slowing down is okay. Embracing my right to make my own decisions is okay Most of all, needing the time to think and pray before making a decision is the best choice of all. And maybe I need to let the important people in my life know this about me, I need time and space before jumping in.

  This is about boundaries, isn't it? The thin line of a different sort. 

  In closing, I have a request, dear readers. It's part of yesterday's deep, emotional impact. Please pray for an expectant, young, homeless woman who is addicted to fentanyl. She is walking her own thin lines. I can't give you her name, but God knows who she is and, sadly, she isn't the only one in this situation. 

  

  

  

Learning Curve

   "For the Lord God is our sun and our shield. He gives us grace and glory. The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right." Psalm 84:11

  My new laptop came without Word, the writing program. While I am able to create blogs on the Blogger platform, Word is a program vital for a writer. This morning began as an adventure into techie stuff.

  It was easy to find the Microsoft Office Suite I was looking for. Basically, you buy the package, download it and voila! There you have it. What irked me is Canadian websites and shopping opportunities were three to four times the price of US online shops even with taking the exchange rate into consideration! So I bought it from the US.

  Part of me, the one that is still wrapping my head around virtual purchases of virtual products, was skeptical about the whole process. I did use an official Microsoft store just to be safe. Safe and successful. Oh, and relieved the moment the Word icon appeared in my taskbar. It ended up being a whole lot easier than anticipated. It's a one and done.

  

  I haven't had much time to play around with this machine. It seemed to be lacking the little pictures of the sites visited the most, especially the Gmail one. Google is my friend even if it's called Edge. I wanted to have a quick shortcut to Gmail rather than going on line, finding the login...talk about impatient! 

  Long story short, I now know how to add icons to my taskbar! There's one for Gmail, Blogger and the public website readers can see. Must say I am feeling pretty proud of myself. 

  For sure there are people out there who would smile and wink at my ignorance but for the most part, my laptop is a fancy typewriter and that's about all.

  It's raining, heavily at times today. The spring peeper frogs started their nightly chorus earlier this week. It means spring is rapidly unfolding. Then there's a male robin who leaves me wondering if his brains haven't gotten scrambled somewhere along the line.

  My neighbours have a shiny, stainless steel chimney for their woodstove. This fellow has spent hours attacking his reflection, trying to drive the interloper from his territory. He has been doing this for days now. It's a wonder he isn't exhausted. I think it's the same bird that attacked my bedroom window the other morning. 

  Funny story: my housemate, her sister and I had arrived home late from a weeklong trip to the Dominican Republic. I was roused by what I thought was someone repeatedly opening and closing the dresser drawers in the other room. To be honest, it left me rather annoyed, having only had a few hours sleep but when I walked into the living room, the two of them were sitting quietly. Talk about being confused!

  The drawer scraping noise continued until I opened my bedroom curtain. Mr. Robin's wings beating at the window screen made the drawer scraping noise. I don't know who was more startled, him or me! Thankfully, the chimney is keeping him occupied so there hasn't been a repeat performance.

  This ole gal needs her sleep. 

  The trip was lovely. Sun, sand, beach and great food. There was even a miracle.

  I wear a necklace to help counteract the effects of EMF's. It never comes off because it truly helps. As I sat down after swimming, I was thoroughly dismayed to discover it was gone.

  After retracing my footsteps to the water's edge, I looked at the waves with a heavy heart.

  "Lord?" I thought, "The odds of me finding it are a gazillion to one, but You can."

  I returned to the beach chair and sat down.

  Within moments my friend cried out, "Don't move!" She bent over and pulled the half buried necklace out of the sand at my feet. 

  I have no words to describe the gratitude, the comfort this little miracle has poured into my heart on so many levels. That will be for another day.

  May God bless you with your own miracles, big and small.