What the Heck Just Happened?

Oh, friends. Hi. How are you? 

Thanks for your patience over the past few months. Believe it or not, I have actually been writing pretty consistently but I stop after about a page of words every time. My writing has felt distracted and ineffective, mostly because I’m still struggling to make sense of things. I think I have emotional whiplash.

This period of my life has been one of the most significant, I think, in shaping my perspective on life and time and presence. 

I feel like we need a little “here’s what you missed” TV show recap to kick this off:

• In March, I went on a road trip with friends through my home in Southern California. It was awesome and restorative and I needed it. It made me feel like things were looking up. 
• A week later, doctors found a tumor on my mom’s bladder. 
• A week or so after that, she was diagnosed with bladder cancer. 
• Another week after that, she underwent surgery to remove said tumor and receive local chemo. 
• Then she got COVID and we all halted caregiving duties to isolate. 
• Then she felt better. 
• Then she didn’t. 
• Now she’s getting more tests to see if there’s cancer hiding.
• During all of this, I had a friend die, navigated persistent global chaos, our family dealt with more fun COVID stuff, and we spent a lot of additional time stressed about my grandparents’ health.
• A couple weeks ago, I started on a solo road trip back to my home state to spend some time in Santa Barbara, a place that has become near and dear to me. I spent the first half of the two-week trip dog sitting for some friends of mine. It was intended to be a time to rest, recharge, process and heal, but instead, it turned into a series of unfortunate events:
• The sweet precious dog I was watching needed emergency surgery for a pre-existing issue and subsequent, intensive, follow-up care. 
• I lost my wallet with no option for replacing my cards or ID while I was still traveling (thank God I brought my passport).
• I cracked my phone screen (small potatoes at that point).

So, friends, that’s what you missed. Or at least a very high-level overview. Tune in next week for another dramatic episode. 

Before I dive into the content of this post, I want to make it expressly clear that this is so not a pity party (even though I’ve thrown those a time or two lately). My problems are my problems, and my story is my story. I won’t shy away from that. But I also recognize how much I have in this moment. It’s not the end of the world. 

The good news is that so much has gone wrong in such a condensed period that it almost feels comical. The bad news (from an emotional output perspective) is that it creates a greater sense of urgency for me to find a good therapist... because boy do I need one. 

I’ve shared with you that at the beginning of this year, I set three broad goals: More Jesus. More Presence. More Fun. I was foolish in thinking I could accomplish those goals my own way. God has certainly had another, more complicated, plan. 

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the idea of forced presence. These past few months have forced me to be present in a way that I haven’t been previously. It’s part of the many reasons why they have helped shape me in a way that I think I’ll carry with me forever. It has been one thing for me to recognize that we only have this day and another thing for me to live it. Nothing feels guaranteed anymore and, at times, that feels tragic and scary. At other times, it feels incredibly liberating. 

For me, part of being present means trusting Jesus. If I’m going to practice letting go of my fears and anxieties, then I need to be able to trust Him with those. Most days, I don’t. At the beginning of this pandemic, I prayed that God would expose the cracks of our various medical and social systems to highlight them in a way that promotes change and improvement. Now, I feel like He’s doing that in my life... exposing the cracks. 

There were many points over the past couple of weeks of being alone where I felt vulnerable and insecure. I knew in my head that God was trustworthy, but I didn’t want to trust him. I was too exhausted and afraid. I noticed that in those moments I turned to a lot of romance-based content: books, TV shows (I mean, The Summer I Turned Pretty, anyone?), YouTube clips, etc. I lived vicariously through the women in those stories to feel safe, cared for, seen, loved, desired. It was like a temporary Band-Aid to escape into a world where someone was so demonstratively looking out for me. As silly as it sounds, I’ve realized that I was replacing God, who I know loves me perfectly (even when I don’t feel it), with fictional boys. I was replacing reality with a subpar fantasy. I’m speaking in the past tense because this is a specific example, but the whole idea of replacing the real thing with a cruddy stand-in is very much a present-day process for me.

Despite how challenging it’s been, I’m very grateful that I’m starting to see what I choose to trust over Jesus and where I choose to find comfort away from him. God says that his yoke is easy and his burden is light but these days I feel so heavily burdened. Where’s the disconnect? I don’t know, but I’m discovering pieces of it. 

The past couple of weeks God stripped me almost bare – I had no emotional capacity, no money, no people to swoop in and help, and no idea what the heck I was doing. I had to rely on him because there wasn’t another choice. And He provided. He showed up. He took care of me. He gave me fun and connection even when I was so convinced that the rest of the trip would be a bust. And, to top it off, I still had about $7 of cash to spare at the end of the whole ordeal. 

The emotional pieces and familial pain will obviously take more time than the vacation chaos to heal from. I want to know more deeply what it’s like to fully trust God with those things, the things I cling to more than anything else: my people. I don’t know what that’s like yet, but I do know that things are being stirred up in my heart that will ultimately be used for good purposes. Full transparency, I don’t know how people do it without Jesus. I would stay a crumpled ball on the floor at this point if I had to rely exclusively on my own understanding or that of the other imperfect humans around me. I depend on the safety and structure that is created through Him. 

You’re getting a glimpse into my perspective today when I’m in a reasonably balanced and connected place. I think you all have seen through this blog that that isn’t always the case. I am experiencing suffering and heartbreak right now. Ask my mother how many times I cried on the phone with her while I was in California and that should give you a good idea. I am also experiencing growth, gratitude, trust, and light that shines through the murky waters. It’s both/and. 

Maybe this bit of my story resonates with you, maybe it doesn’t. But either way, thanks for listening. I’ll talk to you soon. 

Love, 

Abbey