Identity, fear, and Torah.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this one, so let’s see where I end up, hmmm??

Just lately, I feel like I’ve been wrestling with a whole new set of thoughts and pains that are that are new to me, but shouldn’t be.  

Identity is one of them.  Who am I, exactly?  The first months after Storm’s death, I really just feel like I was surviving it.  The woman I had been was so wounded and injured, she was slowly fading.  Much of the time I was waiting for the next painful event to wound me some more, reopen my wounds, and drive me back to bed in tears.  As months became a year, and now two, the healing begins to set in, and that awful feeling of wondering what terrible thing is coming down the line has faded.  The pain still lives in me, and it only occasionally flares up, usually when I fail to keep up my guards.   

As the calendar moves me further away from the two year point, and I begin to actually feel the time of my active grieving is drawing to a close, I’m a little uncertain of the person in the mirror these days.  The thing is, I’m not sure I really know this person I’m turning into.  As a young woman, I could see who I wanted to be.  As Mrs. Storm Treasure, I was that person.  I had the job I thought I wanted, the husband I loved more than I ever thought possible, the garden that was a beautiful gift to me, and the wonderful free lifestyle of love and fun and good times.  I knew what my goals were and I thought I knew how to get to them.  There was a kind of confidence on me; an obvious mark of happiness and strength.

 

As just Rose…well…I just don’t know.  Really.  Most of the time I feel bereft.  A little lost, still.  Sometimes, I think I see this lady clearly.  When I’m with either of my congregations, and I feel that accepting love descend on me, a sort of confidence I never had infuses me.  When I am at work, at home among the files and copy machines and coffee cups, nestled in my little office looking at the beauty of creation, I am what I have always been; a professional.  Amongst my daughters and grandchildren, I know it doesn’t matter who I end up being; they still love me.  Deep in prayer, I know Abba sees me, and He loves me, and He hears my prayer.

In just about any place else; it’s a mixed bag.  I am lost within regular social gatherings.  I never know the right thing to say, who to talk to, or where to stand.  Even one-on-one I keep some small piece of myself back.  I am terrified of hurting others.  I don’t want to cause anything or anyone to hurt, and I can’t stand to see them hurt.  It hurts me.  It works better to keep my distance; keep the shields up.  I keep to the back of the room, the corner, where the chairs are the most comfortable, and try to remember to not be afraid as I hide my trembling hands and breathe deeply.  I try to turn invisible.  There’s no logical reason to feel fear.

If I call out to Yah, if I ask him to show me who I am, will he?  Do I want him to?  What difference would it make to understand myself any better? What if I didn’t really like myself much?  I think I will just leave it right there in His hands, and trust he will lead me around to where I should be.  I’ll try not to wrestle with it, but I may consider the matter more, down the road.

 Fear:

Since the subject of fear came up, I’ll juggle that one for a moment.  I have fear symptoms sometimes when I’m not certain I’m actively afeared.  My whole body trembles, and my hands and feet go cold.  I can barely draw a breath and I have to force myself to do the thing or things that I am doing.  This happens almost anytime I get to a new situation.  My first several months going to Cornerstone I had to force myself to go.  The stress of getting myself there on Shabbat nearly kept me from going.  By the time I pulled in the driveway, my palms were sweating, my stomach was nauseous, and my teeth were set in a determined clench.  Yet, week after week, if I would just get there, I would be fine.  This has happened going on dates, taking a trip to a new store, trying to find my way to an address, but mostly, when emotional matters are involved, and the potential for me to hurt someone is very real.

I find myself standing and facing another new thing, that is really an old thing, and I’m finding it a challenge to force my way through it.  You know what? It actually really annoys me that I have to “force my way through” this at all.  It should be a good thing! A matter of joy and anticipation.  Sometimes, I really piss myself off.  I want to embrace this, and instead, my heart trembles in my chest.  I won’t go into detail about what specifically I am talking about except to say; you know who you are. 

My heart doesn’t trust the happiness that wants to rise up in my chest.  It doesn’t want the anticipation and feeling of hope that keeps creeping in.  My poor wounded, half-healed heart keeps forcing it back down.  My heart hasn’t forgotten what happened.  It knows.  It brings up the potential for other’s hurts, and my own, and reminds me how very scattered and broken everything still is inside here.  My heart is probably right.  I should stay away from other people.

There’s more to it than that.  It probably ties back into my identity crisis, and the things I am not figuring out with that.  Not knowing who I am, how can I know what I want?  How can I make good decisions from that place?  How can I walk forward when my eyes can’t find the path in the murk?  Sometimes, I am literally nearly frozen with fear in an emotional situation.  It comes across as an uncaring wall but it is actually abject terror.  Move on folks…nothing to see here but a screaming lady.

Within that fear is the constant reminder of my many failures.  Let’s be clear: I know I’m the common denominator here.  Why should I be trusted again?  What good could possibly come from it?  I’m obviously not equipped for the job.  I should probably keep myself set apart…keep myself safe from the pain.  Keep others safe from me.  Right.

I seem to BE getting through it, though, and that is good.  I’m not doing it very gracefully but that’s not a requirement, I think.  There are many times when I want to turn, run, find a quiet hole and put my arms over my head and just rock back and forth for a while.  I haven’t given into my despair in a while.  Probably it’s not a good time.

Sometimes the ghost of the logical, practical lady I used to be pops up inside me, and she seems to be working for me for a change, instead of against me.  This time she’s pointing out with the facts and evidence that I have no real reason to be afraid.  She keeps tapping maps and charts inside my head, sounding all calm and accurate.  She keeps reminding me of good things, and happy things, and encourages me to embrace the joy because life is so fleeting and so short, and love is so very rare.  Her voice reminds me to obey Torah, and I’ll be fine.  Trust the signs, they are good.  She keeps telling me to relax, already, hippy lady, and just love.  It was good advice, once.  Could it be again?  It’s hard to say.  I wish I could see it.  I wish I could know.  Logic has failed me many, many times. 

I think neither the ghost or my heart are entirely wrong or entirely right.  Neither of them are really helping me much. 

I am left to turn to the only thing that ever made a lick of sense in my life: Torah.  His word lights my path and guides my feet.  Without it, I am a failed person, unable to make good decisions or choose light or life.  I will find the examples that support the right path, and I will walk that path unafraid, because confusion lies on either side of it.  I will hold that lamp out to ward off the darkness of fear and logic, and I will place my trust that what He has written, and the examples He has given, are true, and that we, the people who love His word, will be blessed by our obedience to him.  That *I* will be blessed by my obedience to him.  That is where we will all find love.  It is where we will all find confidence.  It is the one foundation of my own identity.  

Please help me, Yah, to fill the lamp with the love of Yeshua.  Help me to not fail at this one thing this one time.  Please, Abba, help me find favor in your sight.  Help me to be your child, and help me to maintain my focus on the only thing I can trust; your words.  Reveal to me the richness of your word so that I might understand it, and help me to apply it to my life so that I might shine in the light that is you. 

To anyone who read all the way through this, thank you.  It probably makes no sense whatsoever, but I’m glad to get it out of me.  As one of my favorite songs says,
"If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer
Inside of me threatening the life it belongs to"

May Yah bless you with shalom.  Amen.