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.

  

Pattern

"For it was I, the Lord your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things." Psalm 81:10

  The ice berg Zentangle is complete. It was a mind stretching process, trying to come up with so many different patterns. I left some sections not filled in. The white spaces are expressions of gratitude. It's important to illustrate the healing the Lord has already achieved.

  

 The white spaces are also about hope. If so much can be changed, it's safe to rest in the understanding that more will come. Patience will prevail.

  I admit I'd like to know when this is going to happen...so much for patience...(smile.)

  The thing about change is it takes practice. It takes having safe people in your life to practice on! It takes having those same people cheering you on even when an attempt to put on the new fails. 

  It's not always easy. I think my biggest challenge is coming to understand that my instincts around an uncomfortable situation are right; that my red flags are to be trusted. 

  It's easier to take a flag down than to put one up.

  Am I afraid of being hurt? Now that's a good question. 

  Perhaps it might be better to say that I am slow to trust. Understandably so. 

  I got thinking about masks yesterday which actually ties into this. We all wear them don't we? Some wear masks of humanity to hide the monster beneath. Some wear monster masks because their humanity is incredibly vulnerable. 

  Ah, yes...the monsters. To be specific, the one in my closet. The one that everyone told me didn't exist. 

  He did, you know.

  I've grieved the lessons this first monster taught me because monsters are very, very real.

  God has restored much of what he and the others took but I've never thought about what was lost when others dismissed my childhood fears.

  Something happens when a child isn't believed. 

  Something far worse happens when a frightened child receives no comfort. 

  (There was a long pause after I wrote that last line...)

  The patterns which made up the identity God established in my soul at birth got blurred, got written over. New ones were written by the strength of shame and shadow.

  By the time my seventh birthday rolled around, I had Dysthymia. It's a form of chronic, low grade depression that wraps the heart, mind and soul in a blanket of fog. It created a mask I didn't even know I wore until being diagnosed in my forties.

  The diagnosis opened a door that had long been closed and with it, healing.

  Thank You, Lord, for giving me the strength to explore these painful events yet again. It sure takes a long time to unravel the complexities of deceptively simple patterns. More importantly, thank You for reinforcing my need to understand it wasn't all my fault. 

  The next pattern? I think it might have something to do with suppressed anger.

  

  

The Eye of the Beholder

   "But I say to you, anyone who looks on a woman to lust after her has committed adultery with her already in his heart." Mathew 5:28

  I don't presume to know what was in his heart as he constantly raked his eyes over my body but it's left me feeling like I need a shower...several of them.

  I ran into someone yesterday who hadn't been around for several years. The weight loss has changed my appearance drastically so he hadn't recognized me. When I came over, he looked me up and down...more than once...and continued to do this the whole time we were speaking. 

  As we caught up on all that's been going on since we last met, he commented on how good I looked. Yes, he praised the efforts being made to lose weight. But...his eyes constantly undressed me. At least, that's what it feels like when men do this. 

  It's an awful feeling. 

  And it's a huge trigger, this being objectified. It's having the living, breathing, feeling, person inside vanish or worse, be of no consequence.

  Jesus has fought too long and too hard to help me overcome the belief I was only a thing.

  This person is going to be someone I have more frequent dealings with. Not by choice but through circumstances. He needs to be told his wandering eyes are utterly unacceptable.

  I need to tell him because if he did it to me, he does it to other women.

  One of the subjects that's come up in the Gina program is understanding why it's more comfortable, more safe, being overweight. It makes you less desirable, less likely to attract the "wrong" sort of attention. My knee jerk reaction is to stop losing weight if this is what's in store.

  It means letting go of the improved self worth. It means letting go of the knowledge around how proper diet keeps the body running smoothly. It means letting go of how much better I feel mentally.

  Because of one man? Are you kidding me? His eyes don't deserve that kind of sacrifice.

 

  What is needed is a strategy to put a very clear boundary in place: a Gandalf boundary that speaks firmly, "You shall not pass!!" I need a metaphorical staff to hammer into the ground...although...having a real one might come in handy. (Smile.)

  I need to show up fully clad in the Armor of God and trust the Holy Spirit to give me the words this man will hear, respect and obey. I need it because this gal is quaking in her boots. Not only setting a boundary but also demanding a change in behavior from a big man who towers over me is scary to say the least. 

  Jesus says, "Be not afraid."

  I'll try because I did stop him from giving me a hug when he left. I simply said, "No."

  

  Wow. The battle is already won.

  

  

  

  

The Ice Berg

  "Let my soul be at rest again, for the Lord has been good to me." Psalm 116:7

  The art called. An image of an iceberg took shape beneath my pen over the course of several hours. It's not finished yet but the time spent has given me an opportunity to meditate on all that it means. It's a hope filled symbol due to the transient nature of ice bergs.

  I ended up doing the underwater section like a Zentangle. Each facet of the berg will have a different pattern. It seemed to be a good way to illustrate all the experiences which shaped it in the first place.

  As I draw, my heart and mind opens to hear what the Lord has to say. What began as a way to illustrate the hidden impact of PTSD has evolved under the tender guidance of the Holy Spirit.

   I got thinking about all the videos showing massive ice bergs flipping over. Mini tsunamis cause the sea to boil as the water wrestles with the force of solid ice surrendering to the inevitable. 

  I got thinking of the photos taken off the coast of Newfoundland showing a parade of gleaming blue and white hunks of ice. They have no choice but to follow the current...south...into the warmth that will render them nothing more than fresh water diluted by the salty sea.

  This has become a lesson in kindness. 

  It's a hard lesson for me to grasp. That's part of PTSD, too. Having a long track record of being treated without kindness means I never learned how. I never thought I deserved such a thing. Kindness was something other people needed...deserved...were entitled to have.

  

  The Gina Livy food program is still being followed. I've still more weight to lose but this part of my life is a whole other post.

  Every morning, I've been choosing "Be Kind" as one of my daily intentions because being hard on myself means I am hard on others. Personal expectations have a way of becoming judgements when others don't think or act the same way.

  

  Patterns of behavior...hmmm...ice berg facets...events...lessons...pain...truth that isn't truth...shame...guilt...fear...shutting down...shutting out...

  And grief.

  Once I was only three...the glacier dipped its toes in the sea and a crack began to form.

  Now I am almost sixty...the iceberg that was calved so long ago is about to tip over...can you feel it?