Insomnia

The sound of the gentle rain calms my fragmented thoughts and soothes my throbbing head. I can't remember the last time I slept through the night or past 6am. I'm starting to accept sleeplessness for what it is.

They say if you can't sleep, you shouldn't lay awake in bed any longer than 20 minutes. Your body gets used to doing other things in bed and begins to associate it with wakefulness. As frustrating as it is waking up hours before I need to, I find this morning to be peaceful.

The sound of the rain mixes with the hum of the train, the soft patter of my neighbors waking up, the sounds of the neighborhood coming to life.

I never take time to just be. Even when I'm not working on a paper or reading an article, music is in the background. There is always some noise to distract from lingering thoughts which dare to intrude unwelcomed by my heart and mind. Maybe its time to confront them head on. Maybe its time to let them come, embrace them for what they are and then let them go.

Maybe then sleep will come and stay.

The Power of Contentment

Ever since I moved out on my own, states away from my family, I've only had jobs as a barista, server, or kitchen assistant. You know, the ones for which I spend four years in college studying Spanish. Sometimes it's been really hard to make ends meet and get bills paid on time. My church has been amazing and has helped me through most of those times, and so through these past few years I have learned about grace and receiving with thankfulness despite my strong desire to be self-sufficient and pay back the money. However, according to my pastor, grace is grace and mercy is mercy and they cannot be paid back. They are gifts freely given, undeserved, yet unconditional. Each act of mercy from my church is truly humbling and reminds me over and over how Christ called us to care for one another.

Currently I'm a server at a small Mexican restaurant, the best in town. I now understand what it feels like to live off tips. Living off others' generosity is a really difficult thing sometimes. When the restaurant is slow, I don't take home much tip money and I become anxious. How will I pay my bills? How will I pay rent? How will I put gas in my car or buy Luna's food? And the knots in my stomach and back grow larger as worry creates more worry and the endless cycle begins.

I realized the other night that it's really just a matter of perspective. I can either look at it as slow business, bad tips or job security in a lousy economy. People have to eat, and people like Mexican. So as long as I do my job well, I will have work and some sort of paycheck, no matter how small.

My prayer has changed from "Lord let them leave me at least 20% or more" to "please help me to be content with where you have placed me and what you provide for me." It's not an easy request. It's so much easier to worry and be anxious, but we were commanded not to be. "Do not be anxious and worry for nothing."

I have noticed a small shift in perspective. Although I still hope for big, fat tips, I hope more for the peace of mind that He will provide. It's a daily battle because the bills and deadlines are still there. But so is He.

The Deconstruction of My Hardened Heart

I'm tired of pretending everything's okay when it's not.

Life is not easy. Frankly, it's f'ing hard and anyone who says differently is in denial. I'm tired of pretending I've got it all together when I don't. The truth is that the older I get, the less I understand and the more broken I feel.

Tonight a friend of mine asked me about my experience with depression... how long I've dealt with it, how have I coped, how have I gotten better? She's seeking for hope, and she needs to know it can get better. Only someone who has dealt with depression understands the despair that comes with it, the battle for sanity that takes place in your mind every moment of every day... the fear that things will never change.

I haven't felt that kind of despair for a little while, but I remember like it was yesterday. During my "dark days" I would go to the bathroom at work multiple times a day to let out the tears and brokenness that plagued my mind and heart. The weight was unbearable, and it was all I could do to make it from one hour to the next. Sometimes when life weighs so heavily on you, it's all you can do to take it minute by minute, second by second, because thinking ahead even to the afternoon or evening is too overwhelming.

I want to be honest about my experiences with depression because I feel like it's still so taboo, especially in the Christian circles. I never told anyone at my church that i grew up in about my depression or that I went on meds because I knew they would judge me and tell me I wasn't walking with God the way I needed to be. Everything was a spiritual problem and it was up to me to fix it. I no longer understood the meaning of joy or hope, and somehow I knew it was more than something I could fix. It wasn't a spiritual problem. It was something that's been passed down through my family, and I just so happen to be the one to deal with it more than the rest. I say all this because I believe so many people out there deal with depression and anxiety and believe it's something wrong with them or a spiritual problem. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. But it's something that needs to be brought out in the open and talked about, because once the thoughts are put into words and those words are said outloud, they lose their power.

The last couple of years have held some crazy painful experiences, and I honestly have no idea if I've dealt with them or not. I do know, however, they've left me hardened and braced for the next huge secret to come out, the skeleton in the closet that was buried under years of bad advice, bad decisions, and promises to never tell. My heart feels so hard. I doubt a million times a minute, and I have little faith that these trials serve a purpose. However, another friend of mine believes they do, and it's good to be reminded of that, especially if I have difficulty believing it myself. Sometimes all we need is someone else to believe in us. I don't want to be hardened forever, but honestly, I'm afraid of what God will do to soften my heart again... What will he take away this time? What will he ask me to give up? What new trial will bring me to my knees before him? I honestly don't know if I can take anything else.