The answer to both those questions is that I'm not sure. I have a lot of thoughts and emotions swirling around inside, but there isn't yet anything really concrete. I haven't had one of those "ah ha!" moments when a person says to themselves, "OH! I get it now! I can't believe I didn't see it before." I haven't had one of those sudden realizations that this is exactly what God is calling me to do with my life. I have, however, come to understand that in His subtle way, God is telling me that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be at this moment of my life. I don't know what His plans for me are yet, but He has put a lot of really amazing people and opportunities in my path that I am confident I am headed in the right direction and that my Guide is just a few paces ahead of me, waiting for me to catch up. He's being pretty patient too. After not having listened to Him for a long time because I was too wrapped up in getting to MY next goal, I've got some learning to do in order to understand myself and His great plans for me.
As I have previously intimated, this journey is, at least in part, my attempt to rediscover myself. Do you have any idea how hard that is?! I'm almost 38 for goodness sake! Wait...and I'm actually admitting it! Uh oh. LOL. But seriously, I'm almost 38 and I still don't know who I am or what I want? That's nuts, right? In actuality, I don't think it's that I don't know who I am or what I want, it's that who I was and what I wanted have changed. I was the ladder climber who bought into the American culture that more money and owning more things means we've made it and we can now be happy. Ha! As if! I came to realize (and I'm glad I learned before it was too late to make changes) that happiness is not in achievements, money or prestige. It is within ourselves.
I've gotten some emails and some comments from friends, family and even strangers telling me that I AM rediscovering myself...that they are starting to see the deeper side of me. That's really scary. Really scary. I spent two decades building walls around myself to insulate my heart, perhaps to "hide" the "real" me. I know the walls exist, but I don't know who the "real" me is. Is she buried deep inside, waiting to burst into the light? What if, God forbid, the "real" me is the cynical, hardened, detached, tough girl that so many people know? Ewww. As a Libra (and former lawyer) I would, of course, prefer that there is a balance. But what IS that balance? Where's the rub? Softy extraordinare versus hard-sided castle with a moat around it? That can't be it.
The truth is that my inner self, the one that I lock away most of the time, doesn't sit in what you would call "middle ground." Some people know this instinctively about me, even if they rarely or never see it. I am, and always have been, a feeler. I feel for other people. I feel hurt. I feel love and compassion. I feel jealousy. I feel insecurity. I feel doubt. I feel despondency. I FEEL. Fact is, I am a fiercely compassionate, loving person who abhors hate, malice, discrimination, seeing others outcast, hurting other people and animals, jokes designed to hurt others, bullying, starvation, disrespect, rudeness, lack of manners, disregard for politeness and cold shoulders, to name a few. Sadly, however, much of the time what I feel is masked from those around me. In part, I think my mask is to hide the fact that I don't really know how I truly feel or, if I can put my finger on it, why I feel that way. I am forever and frustratingly conflicted inside. In almost every situation, I can see both sides to a disagreement, I can feel both emotions, I can understand the pros and cons to a decision, and I continually go back and forth trying to figure out where I stand. My mask is also there to protect me from the very things I abhor. I am sometimes afraid that if I let others know how I feel, the next thing I know is that I will become the butt of their jokes, ridicule, subconscious animosity, or worse yet, calculated malice.
You might say that all of this stems from a fear of being hurt, perhaps a fear of feeling the pain I felt when my dad died. Again, that can't be it. I mean, I get hurt all the time, so if that's it, I'm not doing a very good job!! Or maybe it's a different kind of hurt. What I mean is, I get hurt feelings because someone was not nice to me and I get hurt because I hurt someone else's feelings. But what if the hurt I'm supposed to feel and the hurt that I've been guarding against is deep love. That must be it. Or maybe not. Ugh. Wouldn't living life be so much easier if someone would just explain to us what it's all about and help us get out of the ruts and discomfort in which we find ourselves? I realize that seeking guidance from God is a good place to start, but it's not like He calls you up to say, "Hey, Heather! So, this is the way you do it. You've got it all wrong. Let me show you." Rather, He gives you this person or that, opens one door and closes another, and tries to give the you the tools to understand all the hints. Well, in theory anyway.
A dear friend recently wrote to me these words (you may have read them in the comments to my blog): "continue to just pour your heart out, give it away to those kids and that place, share it with your new friends, and let it break when you leave. It's ok! For it is the sweetest sorrow and the greatest joy all that the same time - it is the heart of the Father for His children." That's the part that I've always struggled against. How do I love completely when I know it will soon be gone? And that, my readers, is precisely the problem that has been plaguing my heart since the day my dad died 21 long years ago. I learned too young and too easily that life is short. I sort of determined that my heart would be better off if it never loved so much that it broke when the object of that love was gone. Yikes. That's a big problem! So basically I've cut off the pathway to my heart out of fear? Yikes again.
So where is this heart of mine? What is it hung up on? I know the answer, and it embarrasses me to say it out loud. The answer is that my heart has, over time and years of unhappiness, gotten entangled in a vicious web of self-recrimination. I'm angry at myself for walling my heart off. I'm embarrassed by two failed marriages. I'm conflicted over my years of excelling in school and my career, only to watch it crash and burn because my heart just fell out of love with it. I'm annoyed that it took three and a half years (actually more) to finally recognize the hole into which I'd fallen and make an attempt to pull myself out. Now, I'm supposed to love myself so that I can love others? Hmpf. As if that's easy.
Well God is love, right? I suppose the best and only thing I can do is work hard to make myself open to it all again...open to love and open to hurt. Maybe then I can heal. Maybe then I can I understand His path for me. Ooh, ooh, ooh! And maybe, just maybe, DoFo and the other places to which I will give back are what I need to break down those walls. What is more perfect that giving to others and loving children? Not much. In fact, if I ask myself, "when have I been the happiest?" That's easy. Unequivocally, I experience the most joy when I am helping other people or doing things for others. It could be as simple as planning a party, or holding a friend's hand as they bawl their eyes out, or handing winter clothes to a homeless man on the street or loaning a friend some money. Now, here I am, giving my life to something greater than myself. I am hoping to give back to humanity and mankind and in the process serve God and learn and grow. Frankly, I don't know for sure what it is that I'm doing exactly, or where I'm headed, but I think this whole thing will help me to understand. That IS the goal I set for myself, so I might as well embrace it.
I guess I've come full circle in this rambling exploration of my thoughts. What have I learned? I've learned that I need to be here as much as these kids and this organization needs me here. I've learned that my heart is starting to pour out real love, that unconditional stuff that we all hear about in fairy tails...and that it might break when I leave...and that's ok. I've learned that God put me here for a reason, even if I don't completely understand it yet. I've learned that the people who serve here and in the surrounding community are amazing people with amazing hearts and spirits, who embody all the love and stewardship that God wishes us to all embrace. I've learned that I want to be a better steward, and that I need to be open in order to do so. I've learned that my journey is inspiring others to do great things. I've learned that I can be a tool to bring awareness to others who don't have the means or opportunity to experience this. I've learned that I am important. Bottom line: I am so blessed to be given this opportunity and I don't want to waste it.
I still have a lot of work to do, but looking back I can already see so many changes in me and those around me.
Today was a good day. Morning coffee was good. Kylie, Michael and I helped Lynette stuff about 400 envelopes today to send out thank you cards to all those who donated for the kids' back to school. It felt so good to be so productive. It felt like I was really part of something today. Each donor got these three pictures with their mailing:
On the way back to mi casa, I notices that Betsy the cow was out of her pen. She somehow managed to get into the ravine that divides the orphanage property (which, I'm told, fills up with tons of water and actually looks more like a mini river during the rainy season). I assume someone came to put her back after I notified DJ that she was on the loose.
I spent the afternoon reflecting and writing much of what you read above. I needed it. I desperately needed the time to reflect and try to understand where I'm at mentally and emotionally. After a nap (I was up for two hours from 3 a.m. to 5 a.m. last night because I couldn't sleep), I had dinner with DJ, Lynette, Kylie and Michael. What a great dinner! We ate at a restaurant overlooking the beach. At sunset. Wow! What a great sunset too! The sky was every shade of yellow, orange and pink, seemingly all at the same time. The restaurant is called The Lighthouse (no real reason) and it has an outdoor patio with these little grass-covered umbrellas and a view to die for. We ate inside, but the view was equally spectacular, without the wind!
We had a very interesting discussion that began with this question (or something like this): "How much is too much for an orphanage?" As I've said before, DoFo is unlike other orphanages in many respects. DoFo's kids are very well cared for, they eat good meals, they have clean clothes, they have lots of opportunities for education and growth, they have play time stimulants, they give back to others in the community, they have chores, and they have the opportunity to go to college and still have a place to live. The list is much longer, but you get the idea. It is these differences, IMHO, that make DoFo such a wonderfully unique and impressive place. My response to the question was this, "well, they're your kids. How could you want anything less than the best for them?" More importantly, it's not like these kids are getting handouts and not learning about their call to give back. These kids DO give back. Sure, there are orphanages in which the children are lucky to have clean clothes and a decent bed, but DoFo actually gives away all of its surplus to help those other orphanages, donates to the citizens of the community, helps an elder care facility, helps build houses in the community, fosters faith and healing, and generally gives back. I applaud the fact that the question was even posed (some people get so caught up in their own world that they forget to ask if they are doing enough), but I vehemently disavow any notion that DoFo is anything other than an amazing place doing awe-inspiring things in the service of God.
After dinner, I came back to feed Diego. That little brat decided that instead of going on his 15-20' jaunt to do his business by himself, he'd make enemies with a skunk. Dios mio! Are you kidding. To make the situation even more interesting, Diego decided to make his stand halfway up a steep cliff behind one of the campground houses. I couldn't really reach him. Not that I could've reached him in the first place with that skunk spray permeating the air! I got within 15' or so and could go no further. The smell was so horrific that I started gagging and my eyes started watering. That skunk must've sprayed at least five times. Ewww. You know that slightly sweet but sour smell when you light a match and the sulfur burns. Well, take that, amplify it, add skunk stink and voila! Perfect recipe to make Heather gag. I called for Diego for at least a full 6-7 minutes before I went to get help. Kylie went to find Michael. Thank God! Michael traipsed up the mountain, threw some rocks at the skunk, grabbed Diego and brought him down. Oy vey.
Well, I suppose that's enough for tonight. Many blessings to you all.
Sometimes God doesn't reveal right away why He has a person where He has them. This is something a missionary told me when after fundraising for 6 months and going to Nicaragua, I fell into a hole and hurt myself after just 24 hours there. In fact, she said sometimes He doesn't reveal it at all. Fortunately, in one of my why, why, why moments months later, He spoke to me and made it clear why Hewould have me do all that work, only to be pulled off the team and put on the equivalent of bed rest for the week we were there. It sounds like He is speaking to you too. Even more important, it sounds like you are listening.
ReplyDeleteAnd ewwww ont the skunk.