Annal 123: Tale from the Hospital Take-Over

Typically I am not the sort of person who has crazy dreams.  Really.  I mean, I had the odd one growing up (like dreaming I was talking about magenta while wandering the produce aisle of a grocery store... the odd part was that I apparently talked in my sleep during this dream... and said "Comfort, peace, a shade between pink and magenta."  I guess I was a deep girl of eleven).

With being sick my sleep pattern got thrown off a little and the result has been even more wake-up sessions throughout the night than usual. 

This morning my sister had her clinical and she took the car (I definitely did not feel like driving her... and I didn't need the car).  She texted me when she arrived at the parkade, like she always does, and I drifted in and out of consciousness waiting to get the text that would tell me she had made it safely into the hospital.

I didn't get this text.

Panic ensued and the next thing I knew I was arriving at the hospital to look for her.  The only problem was that the whole hospital was in a state of pandemonium.  People were going crazy.  There were dead bodies everywhere and a whole lot of screaming.

That's when I realized that some of those dead bodies were actually moving around.  Apparently vampires and zombies had formed a coalition in their efforts to take over the fair city where I live, and their first area of invasion was the hospital (makes sense, I mean, there are plenty of people they can turn without having to deal with much of a fight).

Before I know it a zombie and vampire are coming toward me, a slightly hungry gleam in their eyes, but I put up my hands to stop them.

"Please, please just wait to turn me.  I have to find my sister," I said, sounding quite calm and innocent.

They agreed and even offered to help me find my sis.  We were scouring the outside of the building when the zombie comes over to me (err... drags himself over to me), a plastic identification card in his hand.  It is my sister's.  She has been kidnapped, and these guys are going to continue to help me find her and...

Then I woke up.

Of course, I was even more panicked after the dream (not because I was scared the undead were taking over but because I was envision my sister being kidnapped).

Finally, a few hours later, she texted me to tell me she was safe (I may or may not have left her a few messages asking where she was), and now I can relax.

I do kind of wonder if, had the dream progressed, I would have turned into a type of Alice from the Resident Evil movies.

I have always wanted a red dress and boots.

So instead of fighting the undead (or fighting with them) I am doing laundry and drinking coffee, cleaning the bathroom and mopping the floors.  Not all that exciting, but at least I know that should a zombie-vampire apocalypse occur (sorry, WHEN it occurs), I have the ability to charm my way into the good graces of the enemy.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 122: Tale from the Most Amazing Oldest Sister of all Time

Alright, so I have already been up at the university for the last three hours and there are another four and a half hours until my class actually begins... and then five hours after that four hours until I can get home.  Why did I do this to myself?  Oh right!  It is because I am the kindest of older sisters who decided to wake up at 5:30 this morning to drive my sister to her clinical.  And then I came home and instead of going back to bed I thought to myself, "Hey, you have been a blob all week because of the flu.  Today you feel better.  Let's go to the gym!"

How's that for motivation, eh?

So I did.  I made it up to the gym just after seven, worked out for an hour, and have been working on my "The Great God Pan" presentation ever since.  Definitely a productive morning.  And all because I am a wonderful sister (and humble as well).

In case you can't tell, I am feeling ten times better today than even yesterda.  I can tell I am not 100%, but the fog that has permeated my mind for the last few days, making it nigh impossible to think, has finally dissipated and I feel a bit like my old self.

This can probably also be partially attributed to the sunshine that is lighting up the room I am currently working in.  This makes me happy.

It also makes me want to wear my flip-flops.

This makes my feet happy, which in turn also makes me happy.

A friend shared a quotation from C.S. Lewis with me the other day.  Lewis said "You can't think straight unless you are cool. But then neither can you think deep if you are. I suppose one must try every problem in both states."  I have been thinking a bit about how that applies to what I have been feeling over the last two weeks or so.  Sunday I was about as far from 'cool' as one could possibly get.  But that allowed me to think deep about what was bothering me, about what I was feeling and struggling with.  Today I am recovered from my emotional breakdown and my flu and able to think straight.  I can look back and acknowledge the pain I was feeling, but now I can also see the ways that God is still pursuing and wooing me.  Stepping out of the gym into the most brillian sunshine was like God saying "Good morning, love!  I'm thinking about you!" 

I can't ignore the revelation I had Sunday night--I can't ignore that I still suffer from insecurities, that there are still hurts that I have to deal with.  I needed that breakdown (as much as I don't want to acknowledge that because it makes me feel like a failure).  And today I needed sunshine.  I needed the calmness that the light brought so that I could think of how to deal with all that was revealed.

I guess God is just faithful that way.  He has never abandoned me but has instead stood by my side throughout all of this, loving me no differently.  That's an encouraging thought.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 121: Tale from the Bug

My sister is a nursing student who has clinical twice a week at the hospital.  All this semester we have been talking about how we will probably get sick at some point from everything she will be exposed to.  Well, it has happened.  We're pretty sure she brought a flu bug home. 

The result?  My face has received a makeover.  My skin is an exceptionally pale hue, and I don't even think you can call what are under my eyes bags.  Pretty sure I have two or three sets of bags under them that no amount of sleep has been able to dispel.  My eyes are also slightly bloodshot and have that squinty look that they can get after two days of a headache.  Perhaps not the best makeover I have ever received, but I suppose that is life. 

On the upside I am feeling better today.  I woke up this morning and had to get out of the house so I went for a lovely forty-two minute walk (yes, I counted).  The result is that I am not very cold and a little shaky but at least I got out of the house.  And my nausea is no where near as bad as it was on Monday and Tuesday, which only makes me hope that by tomorrow I will be 100% better (trying to be optimistic, can you tell?).

I am doing better after my emotional break down Sunday night/Monday morning.  With getting sick I haven't had much of  chance to feel anything else, but my head does feel clearer today.  I still struggle (having to spend the whole day on the couch yesterday because everytime I got up the room would start spinning and I would feel like I would have to run and vomit--classy, I know--really didn't help the self-image) but I am also doing better.  I really struggled with writing what I was feeling on here.  I felt like I was some kind of a wimp by giving in to my insecurities.  But if there is one thing that really bothers me it is people, especially Christians, who try to act like they are always doing great, like nothing is ever wrong.  I didn't want to give any of you that image of me.  If I am writing about my journey through this time of my life, it doesn't seem fair to only write the good parts.  That seems false.  So like it or not, I'm trying to give you all the "real me."

I read about God parting the Red Sea for the Israelites after He brought them out of Egypt.  And I noticed some interesting things about it.  As soon as the Israelites saw that the Egyptians were chasing them they started to complain to Moses, asking why he brought them out of Egypt and wouldn't leave them there.  They weren't complaining against God.  At the end of chapter 14 it mentions how after God had parted the Red Sea and delivered them from the Egyptians THEN the Israelites believed in Him. 

Even after the ten plagues and their deliverance they still weren't ready to believe that God was their LORD, that He loved them, desired them, and wanted a relationship with them.  I wanted to shake them.  Could they not see everything God had done for them?

But then I had to stop.  When I am hurting, angry, or in pain do I always see and acknowledge how God has shown His love to me?

The more I read about God and the Israelites, the more I see myself like an Israelite.  I see a God who pursues His people, loves His people, and saves His people, and a people that is so wrapped up in its suffering and pain that they can't see it.  They felt abandoned in their time of need and because of that have a hard time accepting God's love.

Sounds a little too close to me for comfort.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 120: Tale from a Broken Mind

My head hurts.  My eyes burn.  And I am pretty sure that tears are going to start falling at any moment, seeing as they have been doing that since the end of Bible study tonight.  I'm lying in bed with blankets (yes, all seven of my blankets) pulled up to my chin, while my bare arms are shivering slightly with cold and emotional drain.

Have you ever had times where you seemed to so open to God, allowing Him to work and change different aspects of your life, without realizing that there was a hidden part of your being that you were hiding from Him?  Not because you were scared of what He would do, but because you were scared of the pain it would inflict on you to admit to Him?

I hinted at this earlier, but if I am chronicling my journey through life with all of you, then perhaps I need to be honest.

Today I feel broken.

For the past couple of weeks I have been fighting acknowledging a fact that was nagging at the back of the mind.  I was certain that if I ignored this hint of insecurity and focused on other things with God then eventually it would go away.  But it didn't.  It got worse.  You know what brought on the breaking point?  A friend looked at me after church this morning and asked me how I was doing.  And she didn't want my "I'm okay."  She wanted to know how I was really feeling.

That care she took caused cracks to appear in the wall I had built between my mind and the nagging insecurity.  By the time I made it to Bible study and we had divided into groups for prayer the wall resembled Jericho after the trumpets had been blown.

I felt like God had brought me so far that I should not still have to struggle with being single, or with feeling ugly or like my quirks were a fault.  But for the last two weeks or so I could feel myself fighting with feelings I haven't felt in a long time.

At study tonight we were discussing prayer, and reading in the Psalms where David is sighing and groaning to God.  It hit me then.  I have been okay to talk to God about other struggles, like with church or friends.  But with my feelings of inadequacy I wasn't willing to go before Him.  I didn't want to be vulnerable there.  I didn't want to lay my soul bare before Him.  Not that I didn't trust Him.  I just didn't trust myself.  And I didn't want to have to deal with wounds that I thought were well on their way to healing.

I know I touched a little on this in yesterday's post, but at that point I was still running.  So I am going to be honest and lay it all out before you guys.

Lately, I have felt ugly.  I have felt like no matter how hard I try I will never be beautiful.  I feel like my quirks are a curse.  I have tried to embrace them but feel like an alien.  I feel like there is something wrong with me.  I feel like sometimes God is mocking me.  Like He sees my heart and desires and could care less.  I know this isn't true, but sometimes it feels that way.  I feel like there must be something wrong with me.  Like something about me screams "Stay away from her!  She is unloveable!  Back away and leave her alone!" when inside my heart is breaking.

I know it my head that God loves me and I am trying to remember all of the ways He has revealed that love to me.  But right now that is just hard to do.  Right now I am raw.

I know that the women from my Bible study are praying for me.  I know my sister in the room next door is praying for me and loving me.  I know I have support, and I know that support loves me.  I know I have a God and I know that He loves me.

I guess I'm just having trouble loving myself.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 119: Tale from the Mermaid

My sister and I just finished eating the california rolls we made for lunch, and let me tell you, they tasted FANTASTIC!  So now I am eating oreos, drinking coffee, and getting ready to work on my presentation for the novella "The Great God Pan" for my Victorian Literature class.  About as ideal a way to spend a Sunday afternoon during school as there could be (I may sneak in some Supernatural or some writing a little later in the day, just to make it perfect).

So yesterday afternoon I finishes applying to the second of three schools I am applying to for my Bachelor of Education.  Really hoping I get into my number one choice, as it is a one year intensive program that is incredibly well-thought of by school boards (prayers for this would be greatly appreciated).  To celebrate, I took I candlelit bath afterwards, complete with delicious smelling bath products and a novel (mind you, the novel was for Postcolonial Literature, but who cares?!). 

Any women out there who, as little girls, would pretend they were mermaids every time they took a bath or went swimming?  You know, cross your feet at the ankles so they form the shape of fins?  Or submerge your head under the water and watch your hair take on an almost ethereal quality?  Or am I the only incredibly cool person out there who ever did that?  I may not cross my ankles anymore, but I do still love to submerge my head in water and watch my hair.  It's one of the few times where I find my hair enchanting.

Anyway, after this amazing bath I went for a walk in my flip-flops because the weather was so gloriously warm (around 2 degrees Celsius) and enjoyed being bathed in the sunlight as I walked a trail near my home.  I then headed out of town a little way to a friend's home where we watched some Jane Eyre.  And I'm talking four hour, BBC Jane Eyre.

You know, it is very hard to find people out there who think Rochester calling Jane a "witch" is romantic.  And I understand that at first glance it does seem a wee bit harsh.  But I love the fact that Rochester sees past Jane's small, plain appearance and realizes that she has the ability to bewitch.  Not only does she have the ability to do so, but she does it.  She completely bewitches Rochester simply by being who she is.  She doesn't have to be a great beauty or a stunning conversationalist.  She just has to be herself.

I guess this was something I needed to ponder a little.  The last week has just been one where I have doubted myself somewhat.  It has been a week where I haven't felt particularly pretty, brilliant, or charming.  And it has been a bit of a lonely week.  A single week, if you will.  In just a little over two weeks I will have been single for three years.  And in those three years there hasn't even been a possibility of a relationship.  No one has really wanted to take the time to get to know me.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like this has been a terrible week or anything like that, and I know that before I know it I will be feeling just fine again.  I have just felt a little lonely lately.  As I talk and laugh with friends or start dancing with my popcorn maker in the kitchen, I can't help but feel that familiar pang of insecurity.

I am still reading in Exodus about God delivering the Israelites from Egypt.  I'm reading about the depths He goes to to prove to them that He loves them and that He desires them.  He sees their hurting and so He sets out to show them how He will take care of them.  How He is devoted to them.  How He loves them.

And I know that I need to remember the ways He has proved His love to me.  I need to remember that even at my absolute worst He still loves me.  When my most unloveable traits show their faces He still loves me.  And when I feel lonely, dull, and idiotic He still sees me.  I guess some days it's just a little harder to remember than others.

Such is the life of a Christian single.