Pickle Shots and Mathematics

I love pickle juice, and I love math.

Today I taught math to 3 different math levels at the same time for the second day in a row. It was just as crazy as it was yesterday. 

The day came and left. I wish I could say that I felt different than other days and that I knew why I feel so numb. But I don't. 

What I do know, is that drinking pickle juice shots while grading math papers, understanding a little bit of how gravity, inertia, light, sounds, the universe works . . .  well, it's quite relaxing. The world just swirls around all day every day. I have nothing of any real value to say to anyone. No smile to really give, because I just feel nothing. Sometimes the world just spins and what I don't feel turns into a disjointed chaos of stunned emotions. 

But sitting on my couch, drinking pickle juice shots, grading math, and watching Big Bang Theory, seems to settle that chaos back into its own pieces. 

I really don't have much to say today, or really any day. I feel like each day should be its own adventure but all too often each day is just an endless tunnel for whatever unknown reason. 

But like the saying goes: if you're walking through hell don't stop walking till you get out. 

I know that I have many reasons for feeling so numb. But I also know that I don't want to admit those things to myself. Pickle juice isn't a cure all for grief and sadness, and neither is time. Greif and sadness don't work within time or a linear trajectory. They exist to remind you of what you loved about what you lost. 

Unfortunately, grief can't be explained by math, my emotions, or the universe. It doesn't follow any one law. Greif changes. It's different with every person, every situation, and every experience. But it exists in everyone's reality with meekness and ferocity. 

The one thing about grief that is certain, you can't make it disappear by ignoring its presence, but you have to have enough courage to acknowledge it. 

So maybe tomorrow you and I will find courage, maybe next week, maybe next year. Even if it takes a while, let's keep looking. 

2 Timothy 1:7 

 For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.

Romans 8:37 - 39

The one who loves us gives us an overwhelming victory in all these difficulties. I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love which Christ Jesus our Lord shows us. We can’t be separated by death or life, by angels or rulers, by anything in the present or anything in the future, by forces or powers in the world above or in the world below, or by anything else in creation.

Life/Writers Block

Ya know how when you're trying to write and you come up with so many ideas and all of them are lame, and you've just hit a wall? 

That is exactly what I've been going through with this blog post. I've started several drafts, but I keep hitting a wall. 

Well, ironically writer's block is similar to my life right now. I just feel like I've hit a wall. I love my students and the relationships I've worked to build with them. I love my family and my friends, but with all of those relationships and with my life and my passions. It's like a keep running into a wall. 

I read posts from my Christian peers that are filled with smiles, new things, significant others, and what I am the most jealous of: friends. 

While I know several people my age who feel like I do, hence why we started S.A.D (Sad Anxious and Depressed: Together Alone!), I know a significant number more of people who are happy with their life, and who actually make time to spend with their friends, which by the way is a *mutual* effort. 

I've been trying for a couple months now to get people to spend time with me, and consistently maybe one or two of the S.A.D members show up, and while I love my S.A.D people, I can't help feel that I've hit a wall in all my other friendships and my life. 

Which may be why I talk like Marvin (from Hitchhikers). 

So I've got writer's block tonight and life block, but really there's nothing I can change about either right now because neither of those things just magically go away. 

Writer's block goes away after persistently writing. If life block is really as close to writer's block as it feels I suppose the same principle should apply. 

Whether my blog or my story pulls together, isn't controlled by my physical ability to write. It's determined by my willingness to keep trying. In the same respect, my life block isn't determined by my mental acuity, or my physical ability to give hugs and tea to crying students. It's determined by my willingness to keep trying, to keep reaching out, to keep hoping that the people I cherish will make time for me. 

But just like writers block, if I sit and do nothing, if I don't write, if I don't try . . . I will never get past it, and I will be stuck behind this wall for eternity. 

So I guess for myself, and to anyone reading this who may know exactly how this feels: stay strong, keep writing. keep living. keep trying. That wall can't last forever. 

Life is Messy

Tonight I'm writing as I sit in my messy room. I spent all day cleaning, and/or crying. Though I worked all day I feel as though I've accomplished nothing. My room is still a mess, the house is still a mess, the bathroom is . . . . . messier than a mess.
Not only are my surroundings messy but my emotions and my thought processes are messy. I feel so many things all at the same time, and yet I feel nothing. There's so much confusion, hurt, chaos, loneliness, regret, and exhaustion in my heart that I just feel numb.
I keep trying to resolve to be joyful, to continue to take care of people who need me, even though they just tear me down every day. I keep trying to resolve to spend more time with God and to be more dedicated to my students. But all of this, this resolve, my efforts, are draining me of everything, and pulling me every which way, making my world even messier, even though I keep trying to pick up the pieces.
Sometimes I feel like a mother with too many children. I clean up one mess while my kids make another. I put a band-aid on one cut while my other kids fall into more injury. I resolve one fight while my other kids start another. No matter how hard I try there's another mess for me to clean up as soon as I'm done.
The only thing I keep coming back to is, there's too much work for me to do by myself, but who is going to help me?
Well even though I don't feel like it, Jesus. Jesus is going to help me.
Now some of you may be thinking I'm ridiculous for comparing myself to that one mom with all those kids, but in reality, I'm more like her than you would think. Even though I'm single, I'm the peace keeper in fights every day. I come home to yet another mess I need to clean, even though I asked for the person who made it to clean it up. When people get hurt or injured emotionally or physically I'm there with tea or a literal band-aid. I'm always on call for my students, because sometimes they need me, and I will never turn my back on people who need me. I love my students, and I love the people I take care of while I'm at home. But what I do is never enough. When I go to bed at night things are still . . . well messy.
I keep wondering how those single mothers do it. Man. They are like superheroes ya'll.
But tonight as I look at my mess, both internally and externally. I know that I can't clean it all by myself. I know that I can't keep my patience much longer if I can't say "okay honey. That's on you. I'll be back in 10." I know, that I can't try to do my life and take care of all my responsibilities and all my students and my family by myself. I need help. I need Jesus.
He is the one who picked up the pieces, for all of history when He died on the cross. He is the one who cleaned up Adam and Eve's mess. He is the one who healed the sick, the lame, and the blind. He already cleaned up the biggest mess in history: sin.
Who am I to sit in my messy corner while He offers me help and say, tears streaming down my face, "no it's okay bruh, I got this."
So. instead of resolving to be joyful, and to keep taking care of people and their messes by myself. My goal is to keep my eyes on Jesus, and tackle this mess with Him, and not just by myself.
'Cus life is messy. It's a mess that doesn't end, a mess that we can't possibly hope to keep clean by ourselves, and that's okay.
It's okay to need help. It's okay to be at your wit's end. It's okay to feel so many things that you feel numb. It's okay to cry. It's okay that things are messy. But it is not okay to lose hope because you're not alone. You have your friends, you have your family, and even when all of those people fail you, there's one thing, one person that remains, and His name is Jesus.
So yeah life is . . . a huge mess, but don't lose hope. You are not alone, the God of the universe walks beside you whispering your name, saying "I love you. I am with you."


Psalm 121

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—
From whence comes my help?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.

3 He will not allow your foot to be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
4 Behold, He who keeps Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
6 The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;
He shall preserve your soul.
8 The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth, and even forevermore.

To My Fellow Single Laides:

I sat in my room trying to sleep, super bored and just needing . . . something but I didn't know what. Finally I got back up and turned on the lights and scanned my shelves for a book and I picked up Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge. I had read the first several pages almost a year ago but had never made time to finish the book. So I sat down and continued reading, and these three phrases stood out to me:
- "Not 'safe' and 'nice' women, not merely 'sweet' but passionate and powerful women who were beautiful as warriors."

- "We long to be an irreplaceable part of a shared adventure."

- "Glorious, powerful, and captivating."

These were the words, the phrases that I needed to hear. I have always struggled with which side of me should I be? The side that could take you down if I wanted to, who can buck hay, who (before I got a chronic injury) could squat 200 pounds and kick anybody's butt at sit ups and swimming. Or should I be the part of me that's really delicate. That is afraid, that wants to be loved and cared for that wants to be needed, that wants to be seen as a beautiful irreplaceable person. Who loves to dance, but is to timid to dance in front of anyone, who loves cooking and drawing (but really isn't super good at drawing yet).
I know that I'm all these things, I know that I can be rough, and that I can be a pushover, I can be really loud, and so shy that I don't even want to talk. But I always struggle with the question "who should I be".
It has been particularly difficult lately because I'm coming up on two years of being single after being engaged, and then being broken up with over the phone. Even two years later I constantly fight with my inner self deciding "I just won't ever get married",  trying to convince myself that I don't want it, even though I really want to be wanted and loved, and I want to have the opportunity to limitlessly love someone else. and then there's the part of me that makes me cry at night wondering if I just wasn't enough, wondering if I'll ever be enough. sometimes I wonder if I'm beautiful or not, some days I think yes, others I'm not sure, and I'm still not brave enough to look at myself in the mirror and say to people that I am beautiful, because I still wonder. I wonder if I really am beautiful enough, not just on the outside, but on the inside, for anyone to love me enough to stay, and I honestly don't know.
I fight with myself over how much I want to be married trying desperately to be content, but no matter how hard I try, I still feel achingly lonely, and I feel like I don't have a reason to feel that way.

but those words I read today spoke to each of those things I struggle with:
- "Not 'safe' and 'nice' women, not merely 'sweet' but passionate and powerful women who were beautiful as warriors."
I don't need to decide which side of me to be. I am all of those things. I can wrestle a 200 pound ram to the ground, and I can be gentle and graceful, and sweet (apparently, cus that's how my friends describe me.) 

- "We long to be an irreplaceable part of a shared adventure."
oh my goodness this really just pulled on my heart strings. cus like I said, I go back and forth inside myself over being married, not being married, and whether or not wanting to be married and loved is wrong or not. and whether or not I will ever be valuable enough to someone for them to stay. and this was so reaffirming, because other people feel all those fears too, and they are valid and it's okay.

- "Glorious, powerful, and captivating."
I know so many women who fit this description in their own way and zero women who don't, including myself, even though I still have twinges of doubt. I just listed stuff off to prove it.

So my dear fellow single ladies,
I know that because of loneliness you have:
spent nights cuddled close to your stuffed penguin.
Many nights crying in your pillow
sat alone watching Netflix for hours
ate a whole quart of ice cream by yourself in one sitting while watching Netflix and/or crying
felt so worthless that you wonder if there's a point to living.

I just want to take the time to remind you of what that book reminded me:
you are not alone, you are good at so many things. You are diverse, you are beautiful, you are strong in your own way, and you are gentle in your own way. Take a moment and look at who you are, how are you strong? if you can't come up with an answer ask a friend.
How are you gentle? How are you passionate?
Take a moment to remember that you are all those things, that you are not alone, that you are an irreplaceable, glorious, powerful, and captivating woman of God, and most importantly, you are loved.

~ Michelle B. Rose

Soldiers Fall

The boom of cannons

the crack of rifles

the silence of an empty tent

smog and coughing

blood and dirt

nothing living

but a soldiers mirth

across the seas a  baby cries

a mother tired from childbirth

but no father waits to smile or cry

at the miracle of his childs birth

he's far away across the seas

in the throng of battle he runs

he runs for life

he runs for love

he runs for his newborn son

his son who's face

he'll never see

as war leaves none with grace

and down he'll fall to the bloody hard ground

an empty helmet rolls from his face

he fell for freedom

he fell for life

he fell for his beautiful, loving wife

he fell for the safety of his newborn child

who lays in a cradle, safe from wars wiles.

All that's left is a stone and a name

an empty helmet,

a flag in a frame.

no lullabies he'll sing tonight

for freedom he'll no longer fight

for he gave his last breathe for your sake and mine

that America would be free

and safe for some time. 

by his grave a widow cries

and by her side a child lies. 

and by their grave another grave sits

where a husband weeps

and the hard ground hits

he lost his love to the perils of war

now his home sits empty

with joy so far

all that's left is weeping and memories

and anger and malice for America's enemies

enemies that saw the last breath of his wife 

enemies that took her very life

enemies that pounded and beat and tortured

till his wife found peace in death leaving mourners

she fell for freedom

she fell for life
that the US would be free from strife

she fell for her husband across the sea

she fell for you and she fell for me

All that's left is a stone and a name

the flowers on her grave

 a flag in a frame.

Mauled Souls

The world is a place full of demons, darkness, hate, and hurt.

Searching and seeking, and empty works.
Life and light is dimmed and dulled
Until, with all our strength we have pulled
Pulled on nothing that's worth our while
For we have wagered our souls on worthless bile.

We seek fulfillment through acts and works
And all of love and grace we shirk
Away into our holes we crawl
Hiding away, our souls we maul

We were not made to slink in shadows
We were not made to work the gallows
Yet we stand, in our masks, at the hangman's noose
Putting a head in, then their feet we let loose.

We execute the world with our judgment and hate
Creating bias laws and calling it fate.
We were not made to damn our fellow man
And yet we desert them, merely because "we can"

We are so caught up in our own personal darkness
That we spread it to the world, making ourselves heartless
We have eliminated grace
There is not a trace
I see none in the whole human race.

Why do we dabble in the works of demons,
Allow them to use us to call our brother "heathen"
You're so self-consumed that you add to the shrieks
Of your fellow man, upon whom, your vengeance you wreak
We think to ourselves "our foes we have vanquished!"
No, we've deafened the earth with shrieks of anguish.

~ Michelle B. Rose

December 2015

Christmas

While going to college I am experiencing a myriad of different views of Christmas and the holiday season. I have heard several people say they don't like Christmas or they don't do the holidays. When I asked them why, their reasons were heartbreaking. Their reasons ranged from lost loved ones, to rude words. The fact that these reasons even exist is just so sad. I know that we all have had rude words said to us, we've all lost loved ones, and we have all been hurt by people and we do remember the date that people died. But we often don't remember the date that someone hurt us. So why is it that when these things happen at Christmas we don't like Christmas?
When we create a bad memory, do we not remember the surroundings? People who have been hurt will remember whether they were outside, inside, sitting on a couch, by a desk, on the computer etc. How much more will they remember a Christmas tree, or the stockings, or the smell of pine and cinnamon?
I remember the morning my grandpa died. I had just gotten out of the shower I was drying my hair with a towel and I walked into the entry room. My mom was sitting on a chair at the desk, she was on the phone and she looked concerned. My sister was standing a little behind her, to her side. My sister looked at me and signed in ASL "grandpa died". I remember exactly what happened, the exact surroundings, I remember the towel I was drying my hair with was white. All of those little details. But I don't remember the exact surroundings when my sister yelled at me, or when my mom yelled at me. I remember it happened but not the details. But when someone yells at us on Christmas, we remember the details. Why do we remember that? On any other day, we wouldn't remember those details three or four years later. But we always remember the little details about Christmas 3 or 4 years later. Christmas, whether good or bad, is usually grained on a persons memory. So when something bad happens, those memories are that much deeper, and that much more encompassing.
When people used to tell me they didn't like Christmas, I would get a bit offended because they were "dissing" one of my favorite things. Now that I've actually asked why, I can relate to them.
I have a friend who has consistent bad memories about Christmas time, so they don't enjoy Christmas, because those memories are what comes up. I have another friend who has lost numerous friends around Christmas time. So Christmas time to them, has become a time of mourning and sad recollection.
Their reasons for not liking Christmas, comes out of deeply ingrained memories of hurt and sadness. Why are we deepening those bad memories by getting upset at them?
Why not give them a reason to heal and enjoy Christmas, rather than add to their hurt.

If you have a friend who does not like Christmas, I encourage you to come up with a tradition, or something fun to do. Build them up, give them reasons to find joy in Christmas, reasons to heal and enjoy Christmas every year so that eventually you can jointly enjoy Christmas, completely healed, those wounds filled with the joy of good memories you have created together!

If you are reading this and you are someone who does not like Christmas. Please let me encourage you. Your past Christmases, and maybe your present Christmas is filled with hurt. But I would encourage you to make an effort this year to find one thing, or one person you like, and make a good memory with them. Start to heal. Use this Christmas to create good memories. You have every right to mourn, and I encourage you to not lock your sadness up, but also make sure that you have joy too. Hurt and pain are so encompassing and rightfully so. Being hurt, is like getting stabbed. It takes time to stop the bleeding and sometimes the wound reopens. But this Christmas, find someone to help you stitch that wound back up. Don't keep bleeding. Please start to heal. I'm not just saying this because I love Christmas. I'm saying this because I would love to see you happy and healed, running instead of limping, laughing instead of crying in pain, dancing, instead of crippled. Enjoying life, instead of dreading the reopening of your wound. I want to see you filled with joy, not trying to hide the hurt.

May God bless you and heal you and fill you with His joy.