Note: These “Learning to Feel” blog entries are copied here from chapter 5 of my book, New in the Middle. I’ve included them here because they share the main defining moments in my life. Instead of a chronological timeline, I tell my stories in a new way—from the perspective of my emotions.
Learning to Feel: Anticipation
Coming to the right side of my drawing, and the final leg of my own yellow brick road, I drew one last emotion. The radiating lines represent anticipation of the future. Recent highschool or college graduates constantly field the question, “What are your plans for the future?” It seems like no other questions exist for these poor souls as they struggle to think like grown-ups. From the time we are in about 9th grade, we have to start thinking about our future, and after that point, it seems like we never stop thinking about it. Is this right and good? Why are we so obsessed with the future?
My own anticipation of the future feels often, but not always, fear based. Sometimes anticipation can be positive. For many seasons of life, find me looking forward to upcoming events or responsibilities. Yet even looking forward to things carries stress because I always need/want to do everything well. Even though I’m not a full-blown perfectionist, I skillfully avoid things that I’m not good at and react harshly toward myself when mistakes happen. I want to do everything well…or, well,… I don’t want to try. Stress erupts in anticipation headaches.
While intentionally working on this weakness in my life, I would encourage myself to try new things such as new art forms. Earlier in this book, I related how God led me down a path of becoming an experimenter and a weaver. But as in writing this out, I wonder if fear of the future (whether the things ahead are good or bad) rests in the fact that change will take place. Maybe if I grow in trying new things, learning to change to adapt to whatever the future holds won’t be so intimidating.
I’m very blessed to actually enjoy my primary work role, which for the last sixteen years has been homeschooling my children. An interesting thing about the future lies in the fact that we might end up doing something we never conceived we would do. Twenty years ago, I never dreamed that homeschooling children would consume such a large number of my adult years. After my occupational therapy training, visions of gloriously empowering the disabled of the world like some sort of Mother Teresa Jr., filled my imagination. When God asked me to homeschool, knowing it would be a long-term commitment, I took the decision quite seriously. He granted me the grace to “bloom where planted” and learn to enjoy this job, until, 10 years into homeschooling, I started looking ahead to see life-after-homeschool with anticipatory melancholy. My homeschool roots have gone deep and it will be necessary to uproot a great deal in order to handle my future. Though it has been tremendously positive in my life and in the lives of our children, I believe there is more for this mama once the babies have flown the coop. I have hope for the future.
In my anticipation, there has always been, beyond my mental horizon of the future, this BIG THING I need to accomplish. Not completely bad, this hope can shape how we live our lives, as our present life does make a difference and pave the way toward our future. But part of this anticipation gives me stress about the future. I anticipate not accomplishing that BIG THING. “What if I miss it? What if I don’t do anything BIG that gets recognition or makes a BIG difference?”Through the long years of homeschool and active parenting, I started to ask myself about that BIG THING: “Who was it for?”When I’m honest, that BIG THING usually involves me on a stage somewhere with many people recognizing how smart I am and recognizing that I’m not just a homeschool mom! As I get older, and that BIG THING has not happened, I must reassess. “What if the biggest, best, most valuable accomplishment in my life is teaching my children? Will I be content with that?” The conclusion of the matter rests in the fact that I’m the one anticipating and expecting that BIG THING. God does not require it of me. He asks me to live today.
To be faithful to the future God has for me, and anticipate it in a wholesome way, I need to mercilessly detach myself from any plans, hopes, or anticipation of the future that have me and my own personal glory at the center of that dream. Though definitely valuable, homeschool does not always feel like a big thing. It feels like relentless hard work. But when I take the time to be present in my homeschool days, many small, beautiful miracles become apparent. Those would be easily missed if my only concern revolves around the BIG THING I hoped to accomplish.
Tying up the Emotions
Creating my own emotional timeline gave me many insights into the emotions that have dominated my life. Releasing to God that BIG THING that burdened my thoughts of the future helped my stressful anticipation of the future turn into a solid sense of hope. God’s revelation of peace inside my pain took me to a new level of learning to cope with pain. In times when pain greatly stressed my body and discouraged my mind, I have learned to stay calm. Panic and worry only exacerbate pain, but calming my spirit and depending on God’s peace have helped me live well through great challenges. As I am loved and continue to love those around me, here and there, God enlarges the tent of our home and new people join our family for a season (Isaiah 54:2). Blessings flow. My old friend, Overwhelm, tries to visit now and then. I recognize him for who he is, grab him around the neck, and kindly (well, forcibly) ask him to leave the premise. I only have so many hours in my day, and I don’t need to waste them fretting over what I’m not doing.
Inexorably connected, our emotions and our thoughts often get us into trouble. While the next chapter focuses on our thought lives, we need to understand that though they are separated for the sake of this book, they are much harder to untangle in real life. None of us know what the future holds, but a strong belief that God will continue to use us on a daily basis in daily life makes each day an adventure of discovering God in the small things. Let’s pray that many more small miracles flow through the open doors of our homes and point us and others to Jesus. Let us continually submit our emotions to God and ask for his guidance through them.
To read more of my journey through pain and disability to a place of wholeness with God, check out my book on Amazon.
