2013

I recently received a Christmas card from our dear, dear friends (love you, Listers) with the words: "Your honesty and vulnerability shows great courage." Having a husband who is within blogger fame naturally makes you think about your own blog, what it is, what category it might fall into, and other demographic-related issues - but my friends' words made me think about my blog in a new light. I think my blog is a channel for me to be honest and vulnerable. Nothing more, nothing less. And with that confession in mind, I wanted to write about some of my musings and reflections on 2013, some things I learned and others I struggled to learn. 

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2014!?

Every year I am amazing at the passing of a new year. Time passes so fast, the years and dates roll by, and what once seemed a lifetime away seems to come in the blink of an eye. When I was a kid I used to think of the 00s and dates like 2014 as though there were sci-fi universes full of flying cars and mind-control technology. Yet here we are, at the start of another year, after the rollercoaster of 2013 - coming into a new adventure, so similar from the last year but so pregnant with possibilities. Life goes on - life in all its chaos and pain and beauty and power. We are here to live another day, to grasp the hours with all our might and make the most of it all. A strange mystery and minor miracle, being alive.

This too shall pass

I am 25 years old and this year I think I really came to terms with the fact that I will likely live with depression for the rest of my life. It has been a gradual realisation, calmer and more accepting. Not cynical, not angry, but looking at the world with tempered eyes. It is part of me, like some people struggle with back ache or bone problems. It will come in bouts, peaks and troughs, sometimes brief and sometimes dragging through what seems like endless shadows. Sometimes I will bounce back, every bit the fighter as I always wish I was, and it will quickly feel like none of it happened. But sometimes I will be in the depths, and all that I will see and feel are the waves and the choking. I will feel like life was always like this, and I will wish that life was not life. 

This year I have dipped and risen up many times. It hasn't always been related to circumstances, and it hasn't always felt the same. 2013 was the year when I learned that the depression that is part of me will come and go. It will change in its expressions through time, as I change, and it will pass, it always does. It is part of me. But the dark periods will always end, no matter how prolonged or deep and desperate. Life will bounce back and burst full of joy and beauty, full of normality and peace. There will be rainbows as well as rain. 

This is what I struggle to remember - that my life is more than my depression. That my light and my dark come hand in hand. 

Love and grief 

Our baby dog Ralph was run over a train in November. He died, it was traumatic, and we loved him. This year I learned about grief in a way that I hadn't experienced before. Grief was its own monster, raw and powerful, a master of stealth attack. Sometimes it still grabs me, and the ache in my gut pulses, like it never left. I learned how it feels to lose something you love more than you thought possible, to see their absence in everything, a gaping hole of your regret that you took him to that place at that time, that you didn't do this or say that or give him this. Your nights wondering what might have been. To feel your heart rip in every move, and the tears which burn as they surge out of you but never stop.

I have said this before but I think that you grieve in proportion to the amount that you love. For a while I was scared. There were times when Dave would come home late or he wouldn't answer his phone, and I would be pacing around the house in a frenzied panic and in tears, praying that he hadn't had his life taken by a tragic, unexpected accident. There were moments when I thought that I could never love someone as much as I loved Ralph again if I was ever going to survive this life. But even in those moments, I knew that I would never stop loving. We loved Ralph so much. He was so special to us, and I regret nothing about the love and care we tried to give to him. I wish we had loved him more and given him more. We were blessed to have had him.

I think Dave and I have come to terms with Ralph's death now. If not completely, then almost fully. I think of him often. I miss him. To my hope of heaven I add another hope. One day I will see him again, happy and healthy, made whole. It will be as though none of this ever happened. 

Slow burner

2013 saw me start a new job and move towards what I consider my calling to be. With that has come challenges, a new working environment with new colleagues, a demanding role, and a gradual settling into new team dynamics. It also saw our move to Chalfont St Peter and our deepening of friendships built at church and at small group. I have spent so many hours doubting the point of relationships. Burdens and baggage make trust in people difficult for me. At the start and even middle of this year I thought I would never make 'real' friends. That it was the end for me, and I had had my share of close friendships from the past. Now, I was too broken and busy, too encumbered by social conventions and facades, to invest in a real way in new people. Especially with my history and my health problems. No way. 

I am humbled and a bit ashamed, really. Because we have made friends. Great friends with whom we share the everyday ups and downs of life. I have been honest with them about my story and my struggles, and they are still my friends. They are not 'weird' around me, they have shown me that they love and appreciate me, and they still want to share life with me. 

Looking back, I realise again that I am a slow burner. Only now, 6 months into work, do I feel that I have got to know a few people a bit better and settled into a comfortable dynamic with them. It takes time for me to make friends and to build relationships. What I need is patience and a willingness not to give up. A realisation that the type of friend I want and need is someone who is in it for the long game. It might take longer, but it is worth it.

Make love not war

I have never really been part of a church for longer than 2 years at a time. From the time that I became a Christian at 17, I have moved churches every 1 to 2 years. I have never really felt like I really belonged to a church. I think this has been to my detriment. Many of you will know that I have a anti-institutional bent when it comes to my faith in churches. I have been angry, disillusioned and extremely antagonistic at times to church structures, politics and rules. It has been something which has rocked me to my core, given that Dave is called to be part of the church as a leader. Most of the time these are churches that I would not naturally align myself with, and do not feel a part of as a result.

I am still on this journey. I have so many questions - not just about church and theology but about God and his nature. I am by no means anywhere near resolving most of them. 

But I realised that recently I have mellowed. I no longer feel militantly angry at church and everything that 'they' do. I no longer feel I need to declare war. I have realised that I have met some godly, kind and amazing people who work for and belong to Gold Hill, our current church. I feel humbled by them, loved and affirmed by them, and supported by them in a way that I would never take for granted. I love them.

I feel humbled by my husband and the commitment he has to the church and the people in it. The kindness and grace and godliness he shows by not 'slagging off Christ's bride'. 

Nowadays, I can see the good in an imperfect and broken system, led by imperfect people seeking to follow God's will. I feel like I can align myself with these people, these lovers of Jesus, trying to make the best of a bad situation. I admire them for being better than I could ever be, these brothers and sisters of mine.

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So there. These are some of my thoughts on the second day of this new year. To all of you reading, I wish you every blessing and all my love for 2014. May this year be better than your last, and everything you want it to be!