As I walked to the cafe today,
my first solo cafe trip of 2022,
it hit me…
I need to view life a new way…entirely.
Why, you ask?
The door to my pre-chronic illness self is closed,
my current state doesn’t support my former activity levels and capacity, and
the way ahead is shrouded…
as it should be…
I can only see the step immediately in front of me.
This makes me wonder if I actually
saw more of my future path
before falling ill.
I don’t think I did,
but it may have felt that way.
Life was predictable,
my body and brain were predictable.
My body and brain are no longer predictable.
That is very hard to admit.
I took a picture of my chai tea latte today…
and shared it with this post.
May it serve as my cairn
for this day when I admitted
this truth to you and myself.
The truth about my body and brain.
May it remind me of my stand for God’s Truth,
my commitment to placing all of my hope
in God’s hands…
eventually.
I want to note here that I am very thankful
for the health I do have.
I can get out of bed on my own,
live independently,
feed myself,
think for myself,
give big hugs (again),
and so much more.
I have a family to love,
a family that loves me,
inspiring work,
dedicated friends,
a relationship with God,
and so much more.
I have so very much for which to be thankful.
I know I have much more than some others.
I know others struggle more than I do,
but I will not let this keep me
from grieving my losses.
Other’s struggles and challenges
can provide perspective,
but they should not discount
our pain,
our losses,
our fears, or
our struggles.
How can I heal and move forward
if I cannot grieve?
The quote below caught my heart this week
as I listened to a new devotional.
This season, this season where
I still feel like a shell of myself,
this season that began in November of 2019,
has led me to currently crave God,
to be filled with Our Creator as never before…
I want to be filled with
Our Sustainer’s
Truth,
Love,
and
Presence
all day long.
I find myself needing to be soaked by God’s Truth
by listening to
Words about God,
and words from God;
spoken and
sung.
I am trying every avenue I can
based on my current brain capacity.
Like a plant with roots that are dry,
I need God to fill me each day
so I know what Truth is
and stay on that path.
I can so easily be
distracted,
confused, and
disheartened
these days.
What I want and need is God’s Truth.
Then I need to fully trust.
Check out this quote (with my added paraphrase)…
“Loss requires us to re-imagine hope.
But before hope, comes acknowledgment.”
We must be willing to look at our future
with multiple possibilities and paths
or face “identity foreclosure”.
We need to grieve the loss of our specific imagined future
that has been changed, altered.
I realized this week that I am actively grieving in
a deep way.
Am I still grieving the loss of my sweet in-laws?
I bet that I am and will be for some time.
However, that grief is not at the surface
of my heart or feelings.
I know where Mekah and Papa are and believe I will see them again.
There is great peace in that.
The loss that is at the surface of each
thought,
action,
reaction,
plan,
and every thwarted plan
every day
is the loss of my dependable
body and brain.
I grieve the loss of my body
on which I could rely
to exercise on schedule,
walk and jog for miles,
generate those cleansing endorphins,
enjoy a daily walk outdoors,
join in a game of family knock-out,
and grow stronger.
I grieve the loss of my brain
on which I could rely
to read books (with my eyes) for pleasure,
work on Hope for Our Sisters
for hours at a time,
process complex ideas at any moment,
easily tune out the noise
from the important conversations,
and live fully on my terms.
Yes, those words sting a bit…
my terms.
I took this body and brain for granted,
my body and brain,
the ones that seem to have left me,
figuratively.
This is my acknowledgment,
the step that comes before re-imaging hope.
My acknowledgement about
my body and brain,
but more importantly,
the fact that I cannot seem to
give all of this to God.
I refuse to fully let go,
I choose to hold on
to who I was before.
Do I fear my future?
Do I fear the answers God has for me
about my body and brain,
my life?
I am not sure,
but I know I am resisting
God’s invitation to give it all,
100%,
to Him in Trust.
This 25-minute time frame,
right now,
during which I can focus and write
without blowing up my brain,
and/or forcing my body back to bed,
this is significant,
this is new,
this is now.
In addition to refusing to give
my every concern and challenge to God,
it is clear that I have also been viewing my future
with great specificity.
I had no idea I was doing this until I heard
the quote above.
I replayed the quote many times,
then chose to write it down.
That was and is God’s message for me.
I can choose to limit my future view,
by holding on to a very specific future,
or I can choose to view it openly,
giving God full control.
Ah, there it is.
Giving God control.
I know God and trust God
in my heart, mind, and soul,
but not fully yet,
not with my physical future,
not with my current and future day-to-day activity.
I act as if my plans are better than God’s,
but I know better than that.
Walking to this cafe
it hit me…
I need to view life a new way…entirely.
What does this all mean?
I intend to discover and share with you
over the next
minutes,
hours,
days, and
years.
This will be part of my
grieving/mourning/lament focus this year.
One thing I do know
is that I cannot assess my days
by my productivity anymore.
I am not productive these days,
and that needs to be OK.
This morning,
and the last two mornings,
I have intentionally handed my hope,
all of it,
even the last strand I was keeping to myself,
to my God,
My Creator,
My Sustainer.
This is very hard to do.
The worst of this season is still fresh.
I know where I don’t want to go,
I don’t want to go backwards in my healing,
but I also know I must
trust my Creator 100%.
I pray I will do this every day.
There will be days when I cannot,
but for today
I am choosing to re-imagine hope,
to view my future with multiple possibilities,
not only the one I can see or imagine.
We’ll have to see what it looks like together,
as I move ahead
craving God’s Truth
and Abundance.
© 2021 Brooke F. Sulahian
Quote from Good Enough by Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie
hopesightings 