I'll Keep You Safe

    The past two months have been incredibly trying for me. For the first time in my life I've been having panic attacks and anxiety. It's sudden and random and seemingly out of the blue. I've had to lean on people more than usual, and that can be hard for me. So on top of the anxiety and fear, I've had to deal with my own personal poor me attitude that I seem to have when I'm having to accept people's kindness. I don't want to be a burden. What if they're just doing this because they're nice? What if they don't really want me here? These are thought holes, patterns I have to break in myself. I don't know if God is using this time in my life to show me that people do care about me, and that as much as I try not to, I do need people. My Rabbi gave a teaching the other day that struck me. He said that he boasted before God and was humbled drastically. I realize now that I've spent my life boasting about how fearless I am, and how nothing can phase me, and that I don't need people because I'm fine on my own. Everything I've built my being on for the past few years is gone now. I'm afraid and anxious and have needed people every step of the way. Talk about humbling. Though this has all been incredibly hard, and I've felt almost abandoned by God at times, I've never loved humanity more. People care. It doesn't always seem that way, but they do. The challenge is letting yourself be vulnerable enough to open up and admit you're struggling. If anything, these troubles have showed me just how prideful I can be. But it's also showed me how loved I really am. By my friends, and also by God. 

    People say that God works in mysterious ways. And I think that's true, a lot of the time. But I also think a lot of the time He works in obvious ways. Or at least obvious to Him. I think God has probably figured out by now that I don't understand His subtlety. I feel Him more than I hear Him and I look for Him in everything, because I know that if I don't, I'll miss something. And I know I have. But lately I haven't missed it all, because he's used my deepest insecurities, and who can ignore that? I realized a while back that I love fortune cookies. They're like little surprises, even though I know the 'fortunes' are bogus. What I also realized though, is that those fortunes could definitely be used to speak to me, so every time I open one I tell God that here's a chance to tell me something that I'll actually get, in case He wants to use it. And He usually does. In one of my previous posts I mentioned one about acorns growing into trees. That was one of those fortunes. The other day I was at a restaurant with some of my favorite people. But as I mentioned before, I'm an insecure human being and and have a hard time believing people actually love me. My friends, knowing how much I like fortune cookies, brought a whole handful to the table. I ended up with multiple cookies. As usual, I told God that I was listening if He wanted to use the cookie to tell me something, I was listening. The first two cookies were rubbish and made no sense. I was sorely disappointed as I really needed to hear Him that day. I took a deep breath and opened the final cookie. 

    "You are guided by silent love and friendship all around you." 

    I cried. It was exactly what this poor, insecure me needed. God came through and showed me His love. I keep that little slip of paper in my clear phone case so I can just turn my phone over and read it whenever I'm feeling lonely or hopeless. It helps to be reminded that even though sometimes love is silent, that doesn't mean it isn't all around. 

    Another way God speaks to me, is through music. I'm a big music lover and you'll rarely see me without music of some sort. A couple of days ago, a friend of mine posted a song on my Facebook and told me that my name popped into her mind while she listened to it. The song was 'I'll Keep You Safe' by Sleeping At Last. I cried while I listened to it. I've been a bit of cryer lately. The song was everything I needed. It was like a letter from God written just for me. In it He told me that He would keep me safe, that I don't have to be afraid. He said that the darkness would pass, that mistakes are made and that it's okay. He told me that I'm not a failure, that I'm an artist and my heart is a masterpiece. I'd recommend everyone go listen to that song right now. God used my friend to show me His love. Without people in my life, I wouldn't have received either of these encouragements. God comes through. Sometimes it takes more than one cookie, or more time than you wanted to wait, but it happens. It just takes a lot of patience and a little faith. 

    I'm not back to normal yet. I still have trouble sleeping, and the dark makes me nervous. Everything I thought I knew about myself has been challenged and that isn't easy for me to deal with. I have a long way to go before I'm comfortable alone again, but I know that I know that I know that God is going to hold my hand through every night, and every fear, and that I am loved and will have people to help me along the way. 

Because Everyone Could Use A Story About A Duck

    I remembered this essay I wrote a few years ago and thought I would share it. Enjoy. 

    They say that a dog is a man's best friend, and when mine unexpectedly left me for the great unknowns of the after-life, I was left without one. Loneliness enveloped my heart. I found myself looking for a new friend to claim that aching spot. I researched long and hard, and after my living situation turned down my hopes of raising a hedgehog, I stumbled upon something I had not imagined. If you were to ask me how I arrived at the conclusion that a duck, of all creatures would do the trick, I could not tell you, but sometimes it's the unexpected that brings happiness to a broken heart.

     Piper was a Peking duckling with fluffy yellow down, a pink bill, and feet webbed in between the toes with warm, paper-thin skin. He was a mostly docile little thing with a flair for the dramatic. It was either that or he just hated being alone. I had read on the internet that ducks were social creatures that are able to bond with humans, as long as contact with others of their kind was limited. Based upon that knowledge I tried my best to keep him away from the other ducklings I had acquired at the same time. Piper slept in a big box at the foot of my bed, and when I say he slept, I mean it in the loosest way possible. I would make sure his box was clean and ready for the night and then would gently set him down and walk away, my heart breaking as his shrill cries followed me down the hall. Piper was what you could call a social butterfly. If he wasn't cuddled up under someones neck, or stuffed head first in the crook of someones arm, he would squeak and try to put himself in one of those two spots. If I was unable to walk and balance his ever growing body on my arm, he was content to sleep in my purse while I shopped or did my chores. Piper and I were virtually inseparable. We both wanted it that way.

     It was soon after Piper arrived that I got my first job. This posed problems for quality time spent with my little duckling and my dreams of taking him for walks and training him to wear a diaper. I didn't give up though and soon designed a small stretchy diaper made out an old sock for him to wear. It worked for short periods of time where I could run about the house with him following close behind, his syndactilous feet slapping the ground like a fish out of water, his undersized wings flapping, and his 'wait for me' screams bringing the dogs from every corner of the house to see what all the raucous was about. It was during this period of waiting for him to get big enough for an official, professionally made diaper that I discovered something. While ducklings are cute, they will not hesitate to give you a run for your sanity. I would allow the fuzzy little bird to roam my bedroom freely, as long as he stayed mostly on the towel I spread out for him, but having a brain the size of peanut, Piper eliminated wherever he pleased. It became a regular thing for me to be consistently wiping up liquid excrement and constantly doing laundry, in response to the fact that Piper preferred to spend the majority of his time in my lap, or at least touching me in some formor fashion. Sometimes, when given free reign of the bedroom, he would bolt across the room with a waddling dash and send his food dish careening in the opposite direction, leaving me to fetch a vacuum, in hopes of removing every last pellet from from my floor.

     While Piper may have driven me crazy sometimes, just like any other pet would, we had really memorable times as well, like taking him to the grocery store and hoping he would stay quiet so we didn't get into trouble, lying on the couch and watching a movie with him snuggled up nice and close to my face, and having him sample my fingers and me kissing his bill. Bath time was always the favorite. I would fill up the tub with lukewarm water and watch as he paddled his little feet. He made me laugh when he would swiftly propel himself under the water like a frog, splashing water all over me and the floor, zooming around and around, with his eyes open, until he ran out of air and resurfaced.

    Piper grew and soon shed his soft down for grown up feathers, white as pearls, and almost as shiny. His neb and totipalmate feet matured into a lovely shade of orange. We were happy, but life soon got busy and when Piper was being left alone for the majority of the day, my heart began to hurt for his misfortune. I then did what I thought was best for my little billed darling. I reunited him with his long lost duckling friends, in the land of the grass and wind. Piper was happy with the companionship of his kind. When Piper was happy, so was I. A few weeks later, when I returned home from work, I was met with news that cut my soul out, and chopped it into a million pieces. Piper was gone. Like my previous animal companion, Piper had unwillingly abandoned me for the unknown world of death. A fox had stole in during the night and ripped my love away from me.

    My heart still aches for that flightless little bird. Every so often I peruse the pictures that are left from our life together. I can still feel his warm mouth nibbling at my eyelashes, and his fleecy down when I would bury my face in his warmth. I can still see his little black eyes staring at me like he understood my feelings. I can still hear his breath, his squeals, and the quack he gained as he grew. I still laugh at the memories of the times we would play dress up, and he would end up wearing a dress. They say a dog is a man's best friend, but I am not so sure; because sometimes, it's the unexpectedthat brings happiness to a broken heart.