A SNAPSHOT OF MY HEART

My daughter-in-law sent this photo to our family group message a couple of weeks ago. I love this picture for sooooo many reasons...

I'm doing something I love - reading - with people I love - my grands. In the background are reminders of even more people I love - artwork by three of my kids, the piano where so many of my children made music through the years. You can't see the person taking the picture, my beautiful daughter-in-law, or the people chatting behind me in the kitchen...more people I love.

This picture feels like a little snapshot of my heart.

If you were to ask yourself, "What makes Camille tick?" - or - "What motivates Camille?" - or - "What brings Camille joy?" - well, this picture goes a long way toward answering those questions.

I heard someone say of me recently that the reason I went back to school, got a degree, and took on a full-time job was because I needed the validation that a degree and work could give me in order to feel like I had done something of value with my life. Nothing...nothing...could be further from the truth.

(I may come back and revisit the whole how and why of my nursing journey here in a future post, but for now, let's just say: I went to nursing school because God, and I now work full-time, as opposed to part-time, because healthcare benefits.)

If you've read more than a couple of posts here at the blog (thank you for reading!), you know that I have good days and bad days. Sunny days and days of shadow. Doesn't everyone?

Yesterday was a good day for me. I got a phone call from my granddaughter Lizzy, shopped for birthday and Christmas presents for the grands, and closed out the day spending time with my son Thomas. Thank you, Tom, for the wild ride and good conversation, but thank you mostly just for being you.

Today, I spent time with church family, watched a recorded lecture on the topic of Highly Sensitive People (suddenly I feel soooooo much less like a freak in this world), and wrote letters to friends.

In three short days (they will actually be long days, because work is wild right now), my house will begin to fill with the activity, chatter, and chaos of kids and grandkids gathering for the holidays.

My heart tank is full...and getting fuller.

Today, I am thankful for the good days.

SAFE PLACE

Resting and recharging this beautiful Sunday by spending time with my church family, taking the granddog for a drive, trying a new recipe for autumn sangria...and by writing!

A friend posted on her Facebook timeline recently:

I think the greatest thing that we can offer to someone

is to be their peace, to be their softest and safest space.

After receiving their grudges from the world,

battling their chaotic minds, indecisive sadness, and countless times

questioning their worthiness - they have us -

hugging their sorrows and making them feel like this is their

"genuine home."

- Notebook

A couple of weekends ago, I spent time with my dear friend Jill. Jill has been a "safe place" for me for almost 50 years. In our brief time together, as we talked about I-can't-remember-what, I started crying.

"I'm sorry!" I apologized, wiping away tears. "I cry a lot these days!"

"No worries," Jill assured me. "I'm okay with tears."

I have lived a long, long time in The Land of We Don't Do Big Feelings (especially "heavy" ones like sadness, anger, or frustration). I am a misfit, an imposter, a second-class citizen, often opting not to speak rather than to risk ridicule or rejection by exposing my alien identity with my "accent."

But Jill is "home." She is a true sister in Christ. She doesn't laugh, mock, or belittle my "accent" (aka big feelings), but makes me feel welcomed, loved, and valued. (Maybe Jill is so good at making me feel "at home" because she has Big Feelings, too.)

Lots of seemingly random bits and pieces here on the blog today...but, trust me, they are not unrelated.

Today is Sunday.

Morning worship, study, time with God's people...

Rest, physical and mental...

Throwing the ball for Lefty, trying a new recipe, savoring the Golden Hour as late afternoon sunlight filters across the hayfield outside my window...

Remembering time recently spent in the company of a dear friend...

All these things turn my thoughts to the loveliness of Jesus.

He is faithful, merciful, gracious, kind, good, sufficient, forgiving. He does not mock, ridicule, or belittle.

When he walked on this earth, Jesus welcomed the outcast, touched the unclean, healed the sick, and embraced the broken. "No worries...I'm okay with tears."

Jesus - he is the safest place of all.

NOT WHERE I WAS BEFORE

Last weekend was rough. I was physically and emotionally depleted from a difficult week at work, grieving the loss of a dear soul (read about that HERE), discouraged by various relationship struggles, and missing my kids and grands something terrible. The world felt dark and heavy, and I languished like Jeremiah at the bottom of a murky cistern.

Been there, done that, way too many times to count.

It's not a place I like to be, but how to get out of that dark hole when overcome with weariness and grief?

Sigh.

There was nothing to do but try to start climbing...

Step 1: "I know that the way I feel today is not the way I will feel forever. My feelings will change." At almost 60 years old, I know that feelings come and go, and they can change dramatically in a short time. Life felt pretty dark and hopeless Friday evening, Saturday, Sunday...but by Monday, with a healthy dose of sunshine and warmer temperatures, my feelings began to change.

Step 2: "Despite how I feel today, I am not alone. There are people who love me and who are praying for me." And I began to name them. Teresa, Donna, Katherine, Brenda, Sue, Jill, Cindy, Cathy, Emily, Martha, Helen, Mary, Suzanne,.....

Step 3: "My life matters. Today, my feelings may tell me I have no value, but the truth is, my life makes a difference for good." Weekly, I am blessed to be able to pour courage and strength and comfort into dying people and into those who love them. What a sacred calling!

Step 4: "I am not where I was before." A few years ago, I frequently had no idea how I was going to buy groceries for the week, I drove a borrowed vehicle to run errands in town, health issues were ignored, and gift-giving occasions - like birthdays, Christmas, weddings, baby showers - triggered deep distress. Today, I have food in the fridge, a reliable car, am managing my blood pressure, and am seeing a therapist regularly to work through decades of pain and desperation. Last weekend was dark, but even in the darkness, I knew that my life was far better than it had once been, and that was encouraging.

Despite the fact that my challenges, struggles, and frustrations have not changed significantly over the past week, I am today in a much better place mentally and emotionally than I was last weekend. No big surprise there...but still, I am thankful.

I hope today is a great day for you.

But if it's not, please remember this: today is not forever.

Today is not forever.

Hold on the best you can.

I pray that God will give you strength to start climbing.

LIFE IN THE VALLEY

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me..." - Psalm 23:4a

The Psalmist assures me that when I walk through "the valley of the shadow of death," God will be with me. But what if I don't just walk through this dark place? What if this is where I live, day after day?

Another dear soul left this life to be with Jesus today. I knew this was coming. I whispered to this sweet soul yesterday, "Soon...very soon."

And yet, even knowing this death was a release from pain and suffering to new life and vigor, the news broke my heart.

It always does.

It. Always. Does.

I am grieving today, weeping...again. Grief and weeping are "part of the job."

It never gets easier. 

It. Never. Does.

God says through the Psalmist that "in the valley," He is with me.

What a strange and difficult calling, to live daily with my hand upon the veil.

He is with me.

Such great comfort.

He is with me.