Needing people

Well, I've had a pretty tough week this week. It started with the really lonely weekend that I wrote about. Then followed some financial stressors that increased my anxiety level which then led to poorer and poorer sleep as the week went on. Which led to getting sick, which led to missing worship practice, which led to a meltdown of sorts.

Today at church the service was centered around prayer and healing; it was contemplative and spacious and beautiful. I opted out of singing because of my never-ending cold, so instead I spent almost the whole time crying. Well, sobbing actually. My friends prayed for Dan and I. The songs were prayers too.

So here's the truth: I feel like I'm failing. I don't know why, or what I think I'm failing at, but there it is. I realized today that what I'm dealing with is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. And I think that I feel like I'm failing because I don't have as much control as I planned to have. I feel like I've been doing the right things to manage different aspects of my life but it just hasn't been enough. The truth probably is that no matter how many right things I do, this life would be tough for anybody. I keep comparing my situation to others' situations, hoping to get some sense of what normal is. I know people who have 2 or more kids, work a full time job, run a home, find time to workout several times a week and they seem to be doing fine. I'm only working part-time and sometimes I feel like I can barely keep the house running. I can't seem to stay organized, or feel healthy, or get enough sleep, or get to the gym. I guess I sound a little bit depressed, but I don't think that that's all it is.

I've been underestimating how much of a toll separation from Dan takes on me. I feel like half of me is missing all of the time and I struggle to do anything whole-heartedly when half of my heart isn't here. Sometimes I'm physically achy to the point that I can't breathe. My mind is always in two places at once so that I can't really focus, which is probably why I've been feeling like my brain is missing. It's most likely in Afghanistan. I miss appointments and forget things that people tell me. Seeing those words makes my experience real; if someone else had written them I would think it absurd to expect that person to function like every other person in a semi-normal situation. It could be that I'm struggling so much because there is no wholeness in my heart or mind or life. But there are still good things there.

Way before Dan and I started dating he used to come over to hang out, but he would rarely if ever accept my offer to feed him or give him anything. I thought it was ridiculous so I told him that when he refused to accept things from me for whatever reason he thought was valid, it robbed me of the chance to be hospitable and share with him. He actually listened to me, took what I said to heart and tried to be different, which is why I love him. I thought of this today because I haven't really been giving the people around me a chance to be there for me. I haven't verbalized my need for company or community or laughter or play. It's tough to say 'I'm lonely and I need to come over' or 'I really need someone to talk to', but that's how other people will know what I need. I ended my last blog with the question 'what if no one notices [that I'm lonely]?' It's been bothering me all week because though it felt like a cry from my heart at the time, distance has helped me to see that it's unrealistic for me to sit alone in my house and hope that someone else guesses that I'm lonely. The truth is that I haven't been at all transparent with the people who care about me and would want to help me (in all fairness to myself, I didn't even know how much I needed to ask for). Asking for what you need is a big risk sometimes but it's the only way that anyone is going to know. This is actually a really positive thing for me to learn. I've learned to verbalize my needs very well to Dan but I've never expanded that learning to include my friends, family or church community. This week I took a few chances, accepted some help and I don't think that I'll be lonely again now for quite a while.

Last weekend I watched the Time Traveler's Wife and enjoyed it immensely. I liked it because it gave me strength and hope to be able to live my life well. In another blog, I wrote that I'd be a military wife as long as I was called to because I loved Dan. Then a few weeks later I had a hissy fit because I couldn't stand the thought of being without him for long periods of time throughout our entire life. I hate the thought of not being involved in church together, or getting to take classes together, or seeing our kids grow up together. I think I actually said that a marriage like that wasn't what I thought marriage should be. I do think that actually – I married Dan to spend my life with him, not to learn to live my life in between the times when he's home. I guess even our most heartfelt sentiments can be fickle sometimes. But anyway, the time traveler's wife lived a good part of her life with a man who was there and gone with no notice whatsoever and she decided that love had given her no choice but to be with him whenever he was where she was. So I know that my life isn't exactly like that but I like stories because they make you want to be better without having to specifically tell you how or why. I'd like to own that movie but if you're thinking of buying it for me, maybe check with 10 other people first because I don't know if I'm assertive enough yet to tell you that I already own a copy. J

I've wanted to share this picture for a while. Before I saw this, Dan had described to me how someone on a previous tour had planted grass and every so often guys would walk by and run their hands through it. The story felt sacred somehow, like there was something of God in the existence of green grass in a brown world, where something so ordinary could for an instant remind brave men of home. I love looking at this picture because when I see it I feel like I would if I were all alone in a strange land and I met someone who was a friend. I also feel like this is who God is to me, not a force that will keep us from struggle, but a loving person who will enter our world in quiet way and show us life and remind us of home. I also love this picture because I'm reminded of the joy that shows on Dan's face. He is the most joyful person I know and I feel alive just looking at him. And also because he's getting such nice arm muscles!

Our birdies are in mating mode again. While normally quiet during the day, they've been spending a good part of their time this week trying to tear off leaves and strands of paper to use as dancing props. They are fierce and persistent. I haven't the heart to tell them that they're both female and there are no males around to impress.

There's a field that I drive by on my way off the base that is now scattered with hay bales. It reminds me of those old music boxes they used to make that played songs by turning a cylinder covered with strategically placed nubs. I don't know why, but I seriously wonder what song that field would play if we had a music box big enough.

I love my husband, my life, and my God.