Today was my last class. Well, sort of. I have a make up class next Saturday and ten or so online classes left to do. But the end is in sight. It feels good to make it through the program. It will feel better to make it to a new job. This week has been really wonderful in that I saw glimpses of myself where I want to be. I envisioned a classroom where I can belong. Where I can teach and help young people to grow. I've learned so much over the last few months. I know there is an infinite amount left to learn, but I enjoy learning. Some kinds of changes are good... changes that come from new knowledge that helps you to grow and evolve.
So that's good. Movement. Growth.
On the other hand... I feel so... numb? No, not numb. I feel so lost.
I was thinking about addiction the other day. Living with addiction is like being stranded in the ocean. No land for miles and miles and miles. Further than you can swim. Nothing to support you. You just float on your back and hope that you can survive long enough to somehow get out of the water. And sometimes, when the water is smooth and the weather is clear, the floating isn't so bad. It can almost seem peaceful, and your life can seem beautiful. But then a storm comes. The waters get rough. The waves pull you under, deeper and deeper, and you're never quite sure that you will be able to resurface. I mean, you always have in the past, so you assume that you will make it through. If you can wait it out. Just keep kicking. And breathing. One breath at a time. But the thought is always in your mind that the next wave may be the one to finish you. And, to every addict, there are times when that thought is appealing.
What is wrong with me? How can I hate, so completely, the choices that I make, but continue to make them over and over? I know that this lifestyle will kill me. Maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. I can't live like this. My husband deserves better. My family loves me. They want to keep me around. And Jesus. Sweet Jesus. Always with me. Whether I am safe on solid ground or floating in an ocean. I am never alone.
Do songs ever speak to you? Of course they do. Music speaks to everyone. It's funny how you can find meaning in the smallest things when you are searching for hope. I heard a song a couple of weeks ago that really comforted me. I've heard it before, just had never noticed this line before. Good ole Third Day. They rock my socks. A few lines from "Cry Out To Jesus":
For the ones who can't break the addictions and chains
You try to give up but you come back again
Just remember that you're not alone in your shame
And your suffering
There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus
Tomorrow is the last day of February. That means Monday is a new month. I could use a fresh start. As every Weight Watcher knows, "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail". I think that I need to do some planning. Life is way too crazy for me right now to just expect to have time to figure things out along the way. If I'm too tired to make the extra effort, I will take the easy choice every time. But if I can plan ahead and get all of the thinking out of the way, I can be tired and still make good choices. Theoretically. Right?
It was a beautiful day today. Walking weather. That's a good sign.
Brett is feeling much better today. Thank you to all of you who have been praying.