Decisions, decisions, decisions

​What do you do when what you want for your life is hampered by your own body?
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Over the course of the last eight years, I have had to contend with desires, dreams, and goals that appear too much for my physical self to handle— it is why I often start moving in one direction and then halt, sometimes for days, weeks, or even months.

For me, this looks like a successful semester of seminary followed by a week of such intense pain in my extremities (especially my feet) that I become bedridden. I've suffered with this mysterious malady for years, yet recently it has become worse. I am currently in the process of seeking a diagnosis, but as anyone with similar suffering knows, this isn't always a "fix". 

I recently wrote a post on Facebook about my last week of seminary and how excited I am about my future, which I promised to share. My subsequent pain has given me pause— how can I do this thing I want to do if I am constantly reduced by my health problems? No one who ever hired me could rely on me, could they?

Life is one big lesson. This has always been my philosophy. Yet this is a seminar I find myself front and center at I never wished to attend; I am playing the hypocrite to my own hopes and dreams. Let me elaborate...

Have you ever been invited into a space where you bring all of you and are completely accepted? When was the last time you experienced unconditional love? Have you heard that it's okay to ask questions, to doubt, and that God doesn't ask you to turn off your mind? When was the last time you experienced a community of belonging that didn't have any rules or requirements? 

My church (Galileo Christian Church) is one such entity. From the moment I first walked through its doors, I knew it was what this world needed. Since then, I have been overwhelmed by a deep desire to bring this goodness to more people. My mother heart has been stirred, rustled, and summoned— there is healing work to be done, I can feel it.

Yes, friend. I am saying I want to become a creator of safe space; I wish to be a pastor. I have resisted this desire for years now. I can't tell you the number of times I have said, to myself and others, I'll do anything except pastor.  Even writing this, I am struck by my inadequacies, brokenness, and failures; I say this with equal parts self-love and self-awareness. I know in fundamentalist circles, a pastor isn't supposed to be human; yet, bringing my full self to the table is exactly what I know I must do. My physical limititations are all the more glaring in the face of this admission. 

As a student at life's table, where does all of this leave me? 

It leaves me at the inception of a summer where I am choosing not to take any classes.

It leaves me with a deep knowledge that pauses and rest are a part of life's journey.

It leaves me accepting that which I cannot control.

It leaves me open and vulnerable, allowing the most tender pieces of myself to float on my surface. 

It leaves me with lots of time for self-reflection and growth (may I never stop growing).

It leaves me asking for help from people I trust.

It leaves me grasping at those little pieces of eternity sprinkled throughout my day. 

It leaves me listenting for what the Holy Spirit is whispering to my heart. 

It leaves me with time to write and reflect.

It leaves me rejecting those shaming internal voices wishing to label me a hypocrite; after all, if I can't rest and restore myself, how could I ever encourage other beautiful souls to do so?

Indeed, I do not know what tomorrow holds. For now, though, this is where I stand (or sit). And while this blog post is mostly a journal entry, if you are similarly facing health problems, limitations, or uncertainty, I hope it encourages you that you are not alone. I wish to be careful, too; I am speaking from a place of priviledge— I am able to focus on my health and recovery; yet there are so many dear ones for whom doing so would cost them food, clothing, or a roof over their heads. This inequality needs to be remedied, and I want you to know, friend, one of my goals is to learn how to fight for you, too. I pray this post leaves you feeling seen.