Friday, September 9, 2011

A Scared Season

I know I have been absent from here. 
I have been absent from myself.  It has been a short season of living scared.

I have been scared that I walked away from the one thing I know I was really good at...teaching.
I have been scared that we can't live on what we are making.
I have been scared that God has quit listening to me.
I have been scared that my dad is not getting any better.
I have been scared that I cannot lose enough weight to be most healthy.
I have been scared that I look like a crazy old fat lady at Zumba.
I have been scared that we can't get our house under roof before snow.
Do I need to continue?
I have felt physically sick.
And I didn't want to share with you.  I knew you, my sweet friends, would tell me all the things I need to hear and it wouldn't work and then I would feel bad that I couldn't tell you that I was all better.  Really, I have told myself all the things I would tell you (and you would tell me)...I am naturally an encourager.
I was falling into despair...grouchy...sickly...unhelpful...mean.
A season of scared.

And then...
I meet an old friend who teaches at one of our small colleges nearby and was happy to hear I might like to try my hand at teaching a college course.
I read two articles in my World Ark magazine about being generous.  Betty Londergan is a lady who challenged herself to give $100/day for 365 days....challenged herself to give until it didn't hurt.  I said to someone just today when they were asking about affording to retire, that I would rather have a full heart and empty pockets than full pockets and an empty heart.  I am turning again to the heart turns before my head.  My mouth speaks words that I had not thought.
I talked to both of my brothers about dad...we have started thinking about the future...I can see no easy way, but a peace is beginning.
I have started watching what I eat more carefully and the scale is not creeping up any longer.  There is a book I want to read...Year Of Plenty - One suburban family, four rules and 365 days of homegrown adventure in Christian living.
I am a crazy old fat lady at Zumba...but they love me anyway!
I can see the house finished before it snows.  Roof trusses are coming next Saturday.  We are building upstairs walls that we absolutely cannot budge (by ourselves) from laying flat on the upstairs floor to standing...but help is coming on Monday.
One of my favorite preachers reminded me that my certainty of God's love and presence in my life cannot be connected to my circumstances, but must live in my heart and soul.
I found a book...One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, who dares me to live fully right where I am.  Here is one of the many things I have underlined:
   "Joy is the realest reality, the fullest life, and joy is always given, never grasped.  God gives gifts and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy."  It is a challenge, a dare, to give notice the many gifts that God gives and give thanks.

So, finally, I can see light again. 
Isn't it interesting that with only a switch of 2 letters my season of scared can become a sacred season?
Soon I can be a light shining for others again.
God was listening.
I still have questions.

So, forgive me for my being away and for waiting and reading all of this without even one picture.
Tomorrow is my art show...I'll share the pictures.


Karyn said...

You are my beautiful, face-making, beat-counting, ukelele-playing friend at Zumba, and there is a serious whole in the line-up when you aren't there. (No pressure. It's just truth. You make better faces than anyone else.)

I am happy to hear that you are once again seeing the light. Dark days are scary, but God is faithful. He never stops listening.

Love you and praying for all you are going through. Unspeakable joy is coming, my dear friend. :D

Donna said...

Karyn, there were a couple of Zumba days when I just wanted to cry while I was there...dark days. Rainy and stormy days are good...just plain dark...scary! Thanks for standing with me in the dark and shining your light.

Karyn said...


K said...

I am going to write you.

Tanna at The Brick Street Bungalow said...

Donna, if being away meant you could deliver such a wonderful post, it was a treat for us. I think all of us who have, or are, making these transitions in our lives hear exactly where you are coming from. I have read that this period of our lives can be filled with as much angst as the adolescent years. I've come to believe that is true. Every way we defined ourselves changes. We reel and feel disoriented. It's not for sissies. You aren't. My money is on your finding a joyful and full life, however you need to shape that at this moment in time. blessings ~ tanna

Donna said...

Tanna, thanks for hearing and understanding and sharing in this new adventure....I can feel myself edging into a season of peace even now.

W-S Wanderings said...

Transitions. Been going through one myself, and you know what? They hurt. Saying farewell to a career, a stage of life, a relationship, a dream, a whatever it is that is receding in the rearview mirror, is a loss. And it must be grieved. And grieving is such an inefficient process.

But YOU have turned scared into SACRED, and have given me a gift in that reframing. And God is listening. And asking questions is part of having a conversation.

Tanna at The Brick Street Bungalow said...


Donna said...

WSW, for a long time, I tried to just pretend it wasn't hurting at all, when it really was...not unbearably, but hurting all the same and then other stuff piled on and I had a "moment" or two. God gets lots of questions from me. Just trying to understand...
I was happy when He showed me the move from scared to sacred was so possible!
I hope and pray that you are coming to peace out of your transition, too.

Melissa Plank said...

I am so touched by your words and your sharing, that I hardly know how to express my feelings, Blessings.

Donna said...

Thank you so much, Melissa, for reading and responding. Means so much.