"Whoo Whoo" the Owl calls

I just came in from sitting outside in the dark listening to the owls discuss something of great importance. I would love to hear what walls would talk about, but owls- now that would be fun.

The night ended on good conversation with two great women I have befriended, Amber and her sister Allison. We watched Seabiscuit which left us feeling very good and hopeful. I am thankful for these women, whom I have really just met, and believe that it not to be coincidence that our paths have crossed.

Vicki took me out to dinner for a girl's night, which was just what I needed. Struggling for most of the day to rinse off the residue of an OCD attack, or as I affectionately put it: "spinning" is exhausting and can be very disheartening when done alone. It was good to have her there, to talk to, to do the Four Steps with, to simply admit that I had been battling and needed someone to speak the truth with me. She of course was more than obliging, she was thankful for my invitation into this place of darkness and within the first sips of our waters, the panic and trauma I had been carrying with me drained from my body and crawled out the door scratching its head at how it had lost this one. The night carried on with great fellowship and enjoyment of how God does work ever wondrous and mysterious ways in our lives.

I sense this work even as I write because just as Vicki appreciated, welcomed and encouraged me sharing my dark hole with her- so too, does the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Infact, he would have it no other way. For this, I love Him.

When I woke this morning, I began the Orthodox morning prayers and stopped mid-sentence because the urge to spin was overpowering. I think it was a lack of sleep because whenever I am tired, the OCD runs over me like a bull-dozer. But, I hadn't struggled like this in weeks and I have been doing the prayers for the same amount of time. So I was caught off guard, and that is never good when dealing with the Imp of the Mind. Alas, I fell back asleep and had some dreams!

First, I was reprimanding, if not yelling at my younger self. I was holding this little Bethany by the shoulders saying, "I will be there for you! I will be there for you!" Then, cut to a window and I am standing, not my younger self, this is me currently, standing watching as the sky turns muddy black, the clouds furiously march across and a storm is brewing. Then the clouds come at the window like a train and I don't flinch, but just as they graze the window- someone, I think my sister, Hannah, pushes me away and I fall to the floor. But, enticed as I am, I get up and go to the window to meet this barreling steam enemy, and as the clouds approach, they pass through the window and come at my face, steal my breath as I meekly mutter the whisper, "Jesus". The wind is knocked out of me and I fall to the floor. And the dream ends. I wake up and ask God to explain.

So here is what I sensed from the Lord immediately following: I am not to confront my fears, doubts, or OCD thoughts, I am not to engage them, I am not to reason or spin or "try and figure it out". God is saying to me, "Tell me your fears. Come to me and tell me when you are afraid, when you doubt me, when you feel the panic, when your throat is being zipped up and your chest is in a blender. Come to me, don't try to solve this on your own. Come to me." I sense that only the truth can set me free, the truth in the Four Steps.

And as far as talking to my younger self, weird as it may be, I think there is something there of real importance. Funny how I have no problem showering love and affection on little children, especially my nephew, Samuel (who, by the way is the cutest baby ever), but I would not do the same for myself. Instead of affirming, encouraging and lifting myself up with the Truth, I find myself consistently negligent in caring for Bethany, in really loving her. Why is that? Why does it seem so foreign, self-indulgent, even un-Christian, to love yourself as much as you do a friend, spouse, brother, or child? Aren't we to love our neighbors as ourselves? Where have we gone wrong, and how can we undue this?

Along these same lines, I have often contemplated, "God do you feel the same way about me as I feel about Samuel?" I have never fully been able to really accept this, take it in and rest in this kind of love, but I long to and I know that He is patient. As one can see, He is opening my heart to this love, even now... for this, I love Him.

Peace,