I have a confession to make. And I make it with deep compassion for myself and those of you who can relate. If I am honest, I have always been one who wants attention, most of (or embarrassingly all of) the attention. I often strive to be the favorite; of my professors, colleagues, even friends. When I create, it is with both with my deepest passions and also my need to be noticed. There are many reasons why I have thought what I do and who I know give me worth. Somewhere along the way, I have forgotten my essence. Who am I without all that I do, or how many friends I have?
A month ago, I was so ill that I stayed in bed for seven days. During this time, it was as though my darkest angels surfaced from the muck in me. The angels that deliver the dark, deep truth. It feels like bad news and liberation at the same time. I danced a little bit with these angels, mostly in my head, which quite frankly, almost never feels like a solid foundation to dance on. And then, I returned to old, familiar ways of coping. Doing and Knowing. As I laid in bed, I joined the website, Facebook.com. On this website, you can reconnect with friends, old and new. And the best part for an attention seeker like me, is that the number of friends you have is listed on your profile page, for all to see! Over the course of the week in my bed, I accrued sixty friends! And it fed me a little, but not like it has in the past.
When I am sick, I feel unproductive, and I hear things in my head like, "You are not worthy unless you are organizing your closets!" Or, "You are worthless if you are not teaching a class!" Or "Nobody has called you, you are completely alone." Fun stuff when I am sick. Not to mention, sickness is the darkest place for my husband and I too navigate. Neither one of us likes to be weak, and when I am sick, I can't hide my weakness. The masks are pulled off.
God is in the dark places. Even the darkest places. To experience God in the places where beauty is easily missed, is to take a walk down the path of wholeness. To know God in the places where it feels next to impossible, like it would be a miracle that even a stream of light could enter, that is to know really important parts of God. So, as I laid in my bed, day after day, losing my mind (thank god), I came closer to my essence. It didn't come in big fireworks. It didn't come like a knight in shining armor. It was in the ordinary, under my bed sheets kind of way, that I experienced the miracle of God's presence. It came in the form of softness, nurturing. I wasn't so hard on myself this time around with sickness. I didn't force myself out of bed to DO. I let myself rest. I drank water, let others rub my feet and take my kids. I asked for help when I needed it and let myself cry if I didn't receive what I needed. It was really dark in the part of me I have called weak. And this time, through the shame, the shame in receiving, I saw a stream of light come streaming through. And I felt a little more alive because of it.
