and friends are friends... when?

I've come to a realization at Concordia. I've been there a year now, and I am friendless. I have people who are my Facebook friend and I have people who say hi to me and people who are in most of my classes. But I don't truly have any friends. I wonder if I even know how to make friends anymore. And I wonder what I've done so wrong to be friendless after over a year at a school.

I've always been told I'm bright, I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm compassionate, I have all these things going for me.  But yet I'm sarcastic and cynical, I'm bitter and callous. Is this why I don't yet have a friend? Is it because I'm a church work student who holds very controversial views? Just because I didn't vote for Romney and I'm in favour of gay rights, doesn't mean that I'm not a true Christian. Just because I'm more liberal than most doesn't mean that there's anything wrong with me.

On the whole, I'm happier at Concordia. I have better professors, better support services, better classes, no mandatory chapel. But I still long for friends- true friends. But my crippling shyness, my social awkwardness, my depression is holding me back from making them. I can't expect people to come to me but I don't know how to reach out and make friends - the kind that put up with my very ADD brain, the kind that love video games, the kind that actually WANT to get to know me. Maybe I come across as standoffish due to my social issues, who knows.

But I feel lonely. I feel like I live in my own world. And I feel like a failure as a CSP student, a failure as a person. I feel that the vast majority of my friends are online and not in the twin cities, and it's terribly lonely. I don't have community, I don't have people who are my friends at my school. AND IT SUCKS. And the worst part is, I don't know how to fix it.

I wonder if maybe I'm missing the making friend gene. And if this is a foreshadowing of my life. If I'll always be this terribly lonely. If I'll always feel this lost. if I'll always be this way...

Bye Bye Appendix!

So I figured I'd write about having my appendix out.

I had a general malese feeling all last week. I was generally weak and tired, but not too bad from Sunday on. Low grade fever, chills, just had what I figured was a general run-on-the-mill infection. By Wednesday I felt fairly crappy, and didn't even fold most of my laundry by the time I did and just chucked it in the laundry basket. I muddled through thanksgiving and felt worse and worse as the day went on. I woke up on Friday feeling terrible. I spent most of Friday arguing with my friend about if I should call the doctor or not, and she finally convinced me to at least email the nurse advice line. I emailed, and they told me to call. I called, and they told me to go to urgent care. We couldn't go straight to UC as we still had to finish up some things in Hastings, so we did what we needed to do, then headed to the Highland Park clinic.

The clinic sent me straight to the ER, telling me not to eat or drink anything, that it was likely my appendix. I didn't believe them as I'd been told this before and figured it has to be kidney stones or the flu or something. It couldn't REALLY be my appendix this time, could it? I wasn't running a high fever or anything, but after I got triaged and into a room at St Joseph, they ran a CT scan.

Not long after, Anna and I hear the words "something something really appendix." We don't know if they are saying it's really my appendix, or if it's not really my appendix. I've been seen in hospitals before with suspected appendix issues, but clearly it's never been. Welp, this time it was. And that's when the downward spiral started. Pain meds, antibiotics  I quickly got sicker as the night went on because I got my diagnosis as 1:30 am, into a room a 2:30, and surgery was at 6 am. However, appendicitis is very fast acting so I was a sick young lady by the time the surgeon saw me (who commented on how sick I looked). I remember being strapped down on the OR and being given an oxygen mask, but not much after that! The next thing I remember is absolutely flipping out in recovery because I didn't have any friends there (Anna had gone home to sleep until after my surgery) and they hadn't allowed me to bring my bear or blanket with me. I had no comfort objects in my general vicinity  They did give me some pain meds, and I calmed down I guess. I was completely maxed out on pain meds (I remember being told I'd stop breathing if they gave me more, and I was really suffering post op!). and eventually, I'd stabilized to the point where I was returned to my room. When I of course got on my smartphone and made pain and drug induced smart-phone posts all oer the internet. I even emailed professors, concerned about making up course work. Ever the good student, I am.

My friend Susan contacted the church pastor, and he and my roommate actually arrived at the same time. We talked for awhile, and then he left and Anna and I just hung out for awhile. After Anna left, CJ came for a bit. We'e made up as friends and that is a good thing I think. :) We played Pokemon and talked and stuff. I didn't sleep much because I was up all night in a combo of in pain and coughing. It sucked. Steph kept me company when I was up in the middle of the night coughing my lungs out and watching Inuyasha, even though I was a crabby Pikachu. She is a good, good friend.

Sunday was similar with visitors (Susan and Aaron, Anna and her Mom, then later just Anna), doctors, smartphone posts, and watching anime on my laptop. And me freaking out to my professors about ALL THE WORK I HAVE TO DO, and them trying to tell me to just worry about recovering and once I'm healthy we will cross those bridges. Spent a lot of time talking to friends (Steph!) on Messenger too to keep me company. :)

Anna and her parents rearranged the room. Set up Anna's old bed for me. YAY! My stuff got rearranged so I'm in the process of trying to find all my stuff... that's kind of interesting... I'm still running fevers and I'm dizzy.

I did learn a valuable lesson. I'm lucky I was in the ER/hospital as I quickly got sicker. I know that appendix issues can be stress induced and I know I have been stressed lately. I know it's also not very smart to put off going to the doctor when you are sick and I saw how quickly after I got diagnosed the downward spiral happened - even the surgeon commented on how sick I looked. I still don't look all that great. I can't keep putting off going to the doctor because while things worked out this time... I could have wound up with a ruptured appendix and gotten very very sick. I'm still sick (feverish - but it's only 100.8 and the call the doctor point is 101) and dizzy, but this time if it doesn't go away, I will call the doctor even if they think I'm being weird and paranoid for bugging them.

My health is a far too valuable thing to lose. I need to keep myself healthy. I'm horrible stubborn and wanted to do my homework while in the hospital - neither Anna or Steph will let me (nor will they let me do it while recovering at home, how rude!). Perhaps getting so sick is my body's way of telling me that sometimes, it's okay to cut myself some slack and I don't need to set such impossibly high standards for myself. That it's okay to LET myself be sick. I mean, who emails disability services and their professors mere hours before their surgery to arrange make up work? And then follows up just a few hours after, freaking out about how they are going to do everything? Disability services kind of ripped my head off and told me that getting my appendix out was a perfectly acceptable reason to take a break and I really need to take care of myself before I worry about all this. :)

I think I've learned a lot from getting one small body part taken out.

A thousand times I've failed, still Your mercy remains

I sometimes feel like a failure as a ministry major. Here I am, studying to into the ministry but I can't even keep my own act together. Here I am, 25 years old, but still struggling to do my homework. Here I am, trying to make a difference in the world at large, but I can't even make a difference in my personal world.

I feel like because I don't fit the cookie-cutter Christian mold, that I'm not meant to be in the ministry. My view on gay marriage don't line up with many Christians and my views on abortion are controversial. I'd rather not get into those here and now, though.

I have an eating disorder. I struggle with self-injury. I don't speak to my Dad and still can't grasp the concept of God as Father, God as Abba. I feel like I've failed as a Christian, like I've failed as a person because I don't match up. What on Earth can God do with a disabled ministry major who is several shades of screwed up?

I feel like all I do is fail. I feel like I try to recover, and I fall back into darkness. I feel like I have words trapped inside me that I don't know how to pull out. I feel like I'm swimming in a sea of despair. And what will happen once I finally earn my diploma? What will happen when I finally graduate? Will I be able to hold a job... or will I be destined to be a never-quite-good-enough Failure?

God, please let your grace be enough. Let your love be enough. Let me be enough.

And after all you've done for me
And it's by grace and love I am saved
And it's by grace and love You've forgiven me
And it's by grace and love I am free

Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong. Throw the stone away, let the guilty pay, it's independence day

The teacher wonders, but she does not ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm,
Sometimes she wishes she was never born

I suppose two things come to mind on October 31st for the average person. The first is, obviously, Halloween.

The second, primary in Christian especially Lutheran, circles, is Reformation Day.

Before Halloween candy, before Martin Luther being all "TAKE THAT CATHOLICISM!", another day comes to mind. Independence Day. Now, before you think I've lost my marbles, I know it's not 4 July yet. There won't be any fireworks tonight, although there will be in my heart. And there won't be cookouts and baseball, because I really don't care much for either.

Seven years. I moved out seven years ago. And while it was undeniably the best decision I ever met, it was undoubtedly the most painful. No 18 year old should have to make the decisions I made that day, and no 18 year old should have to live through that.

I was, after all, only 18 years old. And I turned my father into the police. I had people I thought I trusted turn against me. It's so hard to believe it's been seven years since all that happened. But there are still nights I miss my Daddy.

Yes, he's a colossal class A asshat. But we'd watch movies together, or sometimes I could convince him to hook up the SNES or my Genesis and we'd play video games. We'd play "Name That Tune" to the Oldies Radio Station, and I'd kick his ass in Bible Trivia. He'd take me to see the movies. I can't really name that many good qualities about him and he is, at his core, a drunken pedophile, but dammit, he's my father. I miss him. I miss what I lost, I miss what I never had, I miss what I never will have. I guess that's normal and I guess it's the way it should be. But at the same time... I still deeply grieve.

But I've changed so many in seven years, and I will change in so many more. Next Halloween, I'll be wearing a costume for the first time (and it'll be awesome). The next year, I'll continue to heal and grow and change. And who knows? Maybe one October, it'll just pass as fleeting memories.
Like my father's come to pass, seven years has gone so fast.

Me at eighteen. Yup. Really, not much has changed.

And with a broken wing, she still sings
She keeps an eye on the skies
With a broken wing, she carries her dreams
Man, you ought to see her fly

go rest high on that mountain

I know your life on Earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain
You weren't afraid to face the devil
You were no stranger to life's pain

Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on Earth is done
Go to Heaven a-shoutin'
Love for the Father and the Son

Oh, how we cried the day you left us
We gathered 'round your grave to grieve
Wish I could see the angel faces
When they could hear your sweet voice sing

Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on Earth is done
Go to Heaven a-shouting
Love for the Father and the Son.

It's just one of those days. I'm sick, the fibro is flaring, and I'm in an emo-panda state. I miss my friends and family members who have passed, I wish I could talk to them about the big decisions I am facing in my life. While I know there are other people I can talk to, it's no substitute. And I miss people. And I miss... so much. Even though their "work is done", it's hard to see that while still left behind...

And we pray that our unity may one day be restored

Christians are becoming divided. We bicker about everything. You are for the marriage amendment, you are against it. You don't think anyone should take birth control, you are fine for it for medical reasons only, you are all for it. You believe in evolution  you don't. You are voting for Romney, you are voting for Obama, you aren't voting at all.

The Marriage Amendment is the big one. It's ripping apart churches, it's ripping about colleges, it's ripping about the body of Christ. Come on, people, is this what being a Christian is TRULY about!? You claim you love God, but then you trash-talk and name-call those who don't believe what you do. It happens on both sides - neither side is innocent of this. We are all guilty of casting undue judgement calls and being far less than perfect.

It breaks my heart to see my state, to see people I love and care deeply about to bicker and fight for what I believe to be a basic human right - the right to love and the right to marry. I realize that you (general you) may not feel the same way I do, and I can accept that. You may feel that marriage is one man, one woman. I am not here to debate that at this time, nor am I here to try and change your mind.

What I am here with is a broken heart. What I am here with is a plea to remember that while our views may differ, at our core we all love the same God, we all love our friends, we all love our families. I assume as the election season gets closer, the fights will get more heated. The name calling will get more coloured and hurtful, and the body further divided. What good does it do, though? What good does it do we do causing such strife and turmoil within a body of believers? What is the purpose of doing that? To help them see our point? Getting into a heated debate won't change their minds.

We need to remember that at it's core, Christian simply boils down to a doctrine of love. While at times we are poor vessels of it and we fail magnificently at demonstrating such love, it is no excuse to instead choose a path of hatred. We need to remember the words of the hymn "And we pray that our unity may one day be restored, and they'll know we are Christians by our love." We can restore the unity and we can show love.

Whatever you choose to vote on 6 November 2012 is your choice. It is not my job, my duty, or even my desire to persuade you one way or the other. So no matter what you mark on the ballot: Romney or Obama, for or against the marriage amendment, for or against the voter ID law, or the numerous other issues on the ballot, DO choose to vote in love. DO choose your votes, your choices, out of love, not from hatred. Make your choices based in love, and allow your actions to show forth.