The Things You Never Expect

In the long list of things that I never expected in my life, owning either of these two objects would probably be near the top.

I am now in possession of these because on Friday we will begin giving my middle son injections of growth hormone.

Giving my child injections would also be at the top of my list of things I never expected.

In the last couple of weeks as we have met with his doctor and navigated the process of beginning this treatment, I have had so many well-meaning people tell me that soon this will become second nature. Soon, none of us will think anything of it. That I and we will be fine.

This is probably true. I expect that it will become routine and commonplace, as much as "Good night" and "I love you" at bedtime. It will become normal to have a sharps container, and little orange capped syringes, their purpose fulfilled, will reside inside.

Right now, none of this is normal. None of this feels commonplace. My every cell is crying out that my beautiful, darling Teddy will have a shot every night before bed. That I or my husband, or maybe a grandma, will give him a shot as easily as we give him a hug.

I am terrified that he will learn the wrong message. That he will find himself broken, or inadequate, or weak. I am so afraid that he will not learn to see his strength and his courage. That he will look at his size as the measure of his value and not his beautiful soul.

This feels broken, and scary, and hard. I don't know how to be strong for him when I feel so inadequate and small and helpless.

I know that this moment of fear will pass. I know that we will rise to the occasion. I know that Teddy is made of wonderful, resilient stuff and he will be fine. I know all of this.

On Friday I will face this thing I never expected. I will not give in to my anxiety and my fear. I will come to terms with our new possessions, and our new routine. I will be grateful for the science that allows us to help our son.

I am grateful for everyone who loves us, who is praying for us, who is genuinely wishing us all the best in this new thing.

I am beyond grateful for all the people in Teddy's life who have always loved him just as he is and have never once made him feel small.

I am simply, grateful.

Self care and the weirdness of life

For Lent I gave up social media as a constant, daily part of my life. My rule is no more than 30 minutes a day and only after the kids are in bed. So far so good. I actually think this has been an amazing choice for my mental health. I'm less angry, stressed, and I have some distance from a lot of stuff that I was carrying that I really don't need to.
But...I'm also less connected because social media has been my main source of connection for years. Hello introvert. So the flip side of all this has been pushing myself to reach out and connect in meaningful ways with people I care about. This is not easy for me. It has recently become really important to me to show people that I care about, that I do care. See my recent post about church and the difficulties there to see why this matters.
The thing is, I have a tendency in person to just sort of jabber away and I don't know how much connecting I really do because it is hard to be with people. I don't know when to talk or when to shut up. I talk a lot to cover this awkwardness and then I feel weird so I sit quiet and then I don't know what to do. Just know if you're with me and I talk a lot and then have weird quiet pauses, it's because I don't know what to do with myself.
I also feel like I share too much, and again, hello introvert. I hate shallow interaction and chit chat so I tend to just jump right in to deep and complicated and strange because that's interesting.
I really feel like I'm just kind of weird on a fundamental level. Broken and strange and not put back together with all the pieces maybe.
In all of this though is still a desire to connect and build relationship and community, however awkward and weird. In that, I have found that spending quality one on one time with people is really important because that's where I feel safest. So for all of you who show up for my self care and my strange and keep coming back, thank you. It genuinely means the world to me.
Maybe I will come back to social media someday, but I think maybe not. I think maybe it's more important to talk to you directly about your life and your day and actually give you my attention and not a quick like, or emoji, or some thoughtless response.
I am so utterly tired of shallow, and trite, and easy. I'm tired of talking talking talking and nothing is said, nothing changes, nothing grows. Social media feels stale, and boring, and repetitive.
I had a drink after work this evening with a friend, and all of the above is true. I felt like I talked to much, I felt like I didn't listen enough, but I loved just being there. I loved talking about our lives and what we're doing and why. I wish I was better about extending those invitations and better about showing up for those conversations. I wish more of my life was about strange and weird and broken and imperfect. I'm so glad she showed up for that today. I hope it was as good for her well-being as it was for mine.

What to do?

You know how sometimes people grow apart? It's not anybody's fault, just sometimes people move in different directions in their lives and the relationship grows distant and sometimes just disappears entirely over time. It happens. You might look back and mourn a little for the relationship you used to have but you accept it and move on.

Then, sometimes, you have relationships that end out of necessity because the relationship has become toxic for whatever reason. Maybe you've changed and the other person can't accept it, maybe there are behaviors or attitudes that are dangerous or abusive on one side or another, and so you walk away or they do, and again, maybe you mourn for the relationship you had, but you recognize that sometimes you have to let it go and move on for your own sanity and peace of mind.

Finally, you have relationships that you see something going wrong and you have a choice, walk away or stay and try to fix it. What you choose has a lot to do with how invested in the relationship you were in the first place and how confident you are in you ability to salvage something from it.

And sometimes, this happens not with a person but with a group or organization. In all cases you have to decide what you're going to do and whether the relationship is worth saving or needs to be scrapped.

I bring all this up because I am currently facing this dilemma with my church denomination. I've been a United Methodist my whole life. We have our problems, as do all churches, but on the whole, I think we're a wonderful group of people and our hearts are in the right place. We recently (in the last year) found a new church and have been really happy there.

My husband and I tend to be liberal in our views. Church, for us, should be about drawing the outsider in and giving them a full and equal seat at the table. We believe that all people have something to offer in the body of Christ, regardless of gender, gender identity, sexual orientation, marital status, socioeconomic status, disability, race, criminal background, or any other category you can imagine. We all belong to God and God has a place for all of us, regardless of these things.

God shows us over and over and over (we're an incredibly hard-headed species) that he loves us as a parent. Consider your own children or family that you love. Sometimes they do things that make you so angry, or hurt you terribly, or confuse and upset you, and yet at the end of the day you love them. You forgive the hurt, you let go of the anger, you welcome the transgressor back and make them a sandwich. That is the love that God has for us and the love we are called to share with the world. It's a love that says, "Hey, it's ok. Forget about it. Pull up a chair and tell me how you've been." It's love that says, "I know the world can be a hard and scary place, but in this place, you are welcome, and loved, and accepted, for exactly who you are."

When we exclude others, when we draw lines between us and them, we are acting on our own authority. When we draw others in and we love them without condition or reserve, that is God's authority. And the bottom line here is whether or not my church is practicing this sort of radical inclusiveness. In years past I'd say we did better than most, but now I'm not as sure. And here is my conundrum. Do I stay and try to push back against an attitude of exclusivity or do I wash my hands of it and look for a new congregation? I believe the people in my church are as they have always been, but some in leadership have shown a willingness to draw that line, to exclude those who are already marginalized, and that concerns me.

I'm not sure of the answer. On the one hand we have developed some wonderful relationships and community with our church family. I feel like we have some obligation to speak up and insist that we remain an open and loving denomination where every person is welcomed and included. I don't feel like the relationship has become toxic. Maybe that's my privilege as a straight, white woman talking. But maybe we have come to a place where the relationship has gone in different directions and we should just go our separate ways. I know there are many other churches and denominations where our views are widely held by everyone from leadership to laypeople. I don't know what authority or right we have to push back, but I know the thought of telling someone they aren't welcome to fully participate in the life of the church for whatever reason, makes me angry. In the battle between love and doctrine, I choose love. Doctrine is something we dreamed up, but love comes always from the infinite love of God, and choosing to act in love is never the wrong answer.

So if you're the praying type, pray for me and my family as we try to navigate this relationship and the changes in it.