“I feel like I just gave
birth! My paper...this ginormous brain child...is finally all out on the page
(ok, all 18 pages). Momma needs to sleep for a week.”
One of my overseas
friends (who speaks Romanian as her first language) thought that I was talking
about a REAL baby. Apparently the Americanism “brain child” doesn’t translate
clearly.
Right now, the only
school-related thing standing between me and graduation is my Spanish final
exam. I wish I could say it will be a breeze, but my mind gets so turned around
when confronted by the minute differences between the zillion verb conjugations …. So it’s safe to say I have
one more heavy day of study before I’m in the clear. I know that God will give
me strength to persevere!
“Skillful Navigation of Transitions”
As I recovered from the
sleepless night on Thursday, I was reading friend’s blogs (what else do you do
when sleep-deprived, right?) and I came across a post by my Uncle Dave.
Aside: This particular
uncle is like a walking, balding skyscraper chock-full of wisdom, witticisms
and puns. He is the pastor of a large church in Houston, and granddad to five. He
is also an excellent writer. In this case, he was sharing his thoughts on a
book called Transitions by William
Bridges. Ok, on to the article.
In it, he writes about
something that all of us have experienced: losing something we didn’t want to
lose.
It may be severe—like losing a parent.
It may be mild—like getting a
stubborn stain on a favorite T-shirt.
But in every case, there are three
stages:
1) Death—this is when “something ends.” It may be
a literal death, or simply the end of a loved season of life, a job, etc.
2) Chaos and Confusion—the emotions we feel in the
aftermath, like confusion, anger, sadness and anxiety because we don’t see a
solution in sight.
3) Rebirth—In this stage, the void we felt is now
filled, even if the precious thing or person we lost can never be exactly
replaced. We no longer feel confusion, and the grief has faded into acceptance
or even beauty.
This resonated with me,
because it gave a name to my recent emotions about friends, and about
graduation. As friends move away, something ends, even if the friendship lives
on in facebook chats and blogs. As I graduate, something ends, even if the next
phase is full and beautiful. I guess I’ve been...grieving...in a mild way.
His advice for each step
can be boiled down to one thing: “Stay close to the Shepherd”.
In stage one, we can’t
ignore the pain or say it doesn’t hurt. We have to be authentic with ourselves
and let the grieving happen. Oh, and this is a biggie: “resist the urge to
self-medicate”. Above all, get close to God.
In stage two, we have to
fight the tendency to withdraw or give in to pessimism. Stay connected to
people. Test their advice with clear thinking and prayer. (Aka, stay close to
the Shepherd again).
Stage three is all about
thankfulness for the rebirth that has happened (to who else? Jesus). Cherish it
and share the story—it might encourage people who lost something similar but
are still in stage 1 or 2.
Good stuff for my heart. To
read the full article, click here.
I was really confused this morning at church because I spaced out a little during Kyle's announcements, and he said something about child dedications next week, and then he said your name, and then people clapped, and I was like, "Wait! Why are they clapping?! Is Cherise pregnant?! Is she going to be a mother??" Don't worry. Someone who was actually listening set me straight. :)
ReplyDeleteHaha, oh my goodness, that's hilarious! It's probably the third time this week that someone thought I was preggo. As far as I know, I'm NOT, although there is always that chance when you're married.
DeleteI need to cut out the baby analogies asap. :)