Yesterday was a wake-up call for me. No, not a wake-up call. Those are always life inspiring events that cause someone to make big changes and everything turns out wonderfully. Let’s start again.
Yesterday, a stranger reached through the phone and did the emotional equivalent of shoving an ice pick through my eye. Yes, that feels better.
I am now crushed, embarrassed, depressed, and irrevocably pissed off. I have entered a long-term war with Blue Cross Blue Shield. I should probably include Cigna, but they were late with the ice pick and the damage had already been done. Yes, it is Blue Cross Blue Shield who is now the enemy. I want to fuck them up enough to wage war with my entire life.
Dramatic much? No. I am a 33 year-old woman who was denied health insurance.
Let’s back track. I already have health insurance. Really good insurance, including dental. The problem is that said insurance is with a group of ministers who are aging by the day. This makes my premium ridiculously expensive.
The church gave us a 2% raise, the first raise in years. Woo-hoo! Oh wait, this is the church. There must be a screwing over coming soon... Since we received this very generous raise, they quit covering any raises in insurance rates. The result? I now bring home LESS money this year because I am now paying for every rate hike that plagues our great nation.
This led me to call BCBS. Since I now get to pocket any money that I save on insurance, it was time for me to find a cheap plan with a high deductible for hospital visits. A woman who visits the family clinic maybe once a year for a cold or flu does NOT need a $250 deductible for a hospital stay.
I am young and healthy. Every test that a doctor can run by poking, prodding, and draining me always comes out perfectly.
Except that I am NOT young and healthy. I am 33 and fat. I take anti-depressants and birth control. After much pressing, the very kind insurance agent explained that until I either quit anti-depressants (not an option) or lose 50 lbs, I can’t find new health insurance. I am allowed to be fat. Or depressed. The combination makes me a liability.
Now we get to the “oh HELL no” portion of my life. Fuck that. This is going to change. I know I can save $200/month by losing weight. I am now at war with the world. And myself.
I will not die fat and alone simply because God tells me that I have to be alone. I will die less fat from something awesome like contracting a rare disease while traveling the world or a parachuting malfunction or being shot while saving a baby from a gang war in Guatemala.
BCBS will come to hate me. I will now lose weight, get their cheap coverage, and then proceed to find as many dangerous and awesome activities as possible.
The war begins. Right after I lose 50 lbs.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Letting Go of Dreams, Part 2
The problem is that God never promised us our dreams. God never promised to be faithful in keeping us happy and making our lives go the way we want.
I began to give up the dreams of a husband and children with the thought in the back of my head that God has a huge other blessing that will replace them. Maybe God is even testing me to see if I will give up my desires right before the man of my dreams walks into my life.
That is not how God works. I give up my dream and keep following God. God doesn’t have to reward me for doing what I am supposed to do.
My parents had their dreams snatched away by a broken world. By laying aside their own plans and caring for a broken daughter, they are doing what God has called them to do. God doesn’t have to reward them for doing what they are supposed to do either.
God and I are talking now. I realize that I am not helpless in this journey. I keep choosing to listen for God’s voice and try to follow. I chose this life of ministry. I am a happy single person 80% of the time. I am the one who holds onto every cautionary tale of marriage and loss to keep me from marrying someone for the sake of getting married.
Now my prayers: God, help me to live again. Teach me what life looks like without a family. You suck (still not completely over it). Help me find contentment and purpose again.
I have to lay aside big, life-long dreams and begin accepting my life for what it is. It turns out that planning a future without the worry of a family that would hault some opportunities, solve some problems that I don't want to solve, and motivate me to be a better, more generous woman with a cleaner house and a kitchen full of home-cooked food... where was I? Oh yeah, it turns out that planning a future without all that has blown my brain.
I am having to learn how to dream all over again.
I began to give up the dreams of a husband and children with the thought in the back of my head that God has a huge other blessing that will replace them. Maybe God is even testing me to see if I will give up my desires right before the man of my dreams walks into my life.
That is not how God works. I give up my dream and keep following God. God doesn’t have to reward me for doing what I am supposed to do.
My parents had their dreams snatched away by a broken world. By laying aside their own plans and caring for a broken daughter, they are doing what God has called them to do. God doesn’t have to reward them for doing what they are supposed to do either.
God and I are talking now. I realize that I am not helpless in this journey. I keep choosing to listen for God’s voice and try to follow. I chose this life of ministry. I am a happy single person 80% of the time. I am the one who holds onto every cautionary tale of marriage and loss to keep me from marrying someone for the sake of getting married.
Now my prayers: God, help me to live again. Teach me what life looks like without a family. You suck (still not completely over it). Help me find contentment and purpose again.
I have to lay aside big, life-long dreams and begin accepting my life for what it is. It turns out that planning a future without the worry of a family that would hault some opportunities, solve some problems that I don't want to solve, and motivate me to be a better, more generous woman with a cleaner house and a kitchen full of home-cooked food... where was I? Oh yeah, it turns out that planning a future without all that has blown my brain.
I am having to learn how to dream all over again.
Letting Go of Dreams, Part 1
What a semester this was. It began in August with the incoming college students and my yearly draw to find love (for clarification: I do not look for love among the college students. Their return is simply a changing of seasons like needy, beautiful 18 year old fall leaves). There is something about August that triggers the “I want a man” gene in me and leads me back to the dismal world of online dating.
August hit. I joined the sites. I was on the search for men who were husband material. It was ugly. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Nothing makes a single, liberal, tall, fat, smart, independent, emotionally stable(ish), minister feel lonely like realizing that not many men are looking for just that. Or anything near that. I found myself scouring three different sites for a glimmer of hope. I prayed. I researched. I planned to totally clean my house. “God? Is there any chance for me to find love?”
A few weeks later, I got an answer. Christians who have sought God’s will for a long time have their various ways of feeling God speak. In my way, God spoke. Clearly and without a doubt, God told me:
Stop looking.
That is all I got. I knew it wasn’t the kind of “stop looking” that meant the man of my dreams was already in my life. It was the kind of “stop looking” that meant it was time to let this dream go.
“Stop looking” came to me in August. I didn’t want to hear it. It wasn’t until the end of October that I began going back to God with this issue and finally saying okay. I stopped looking and began to accept the strong possibility that a husband and babies in my stomach were not for my life.
I was heartbroken. I am heartbroken. Broken heart or not, I knew that God’s voice is not one to be ignored. I can leave ministry any day and find a husband within months who wants to marry a much less complicated woman who owns her own house. I can quit putting my faith and convictions so high on the list of priorities and marry a nice liberal boy who doesn’t really like Jesus but loves the gays.
No. I stopped looking and began grieving. In the back of my head, I thought that God had a wonderful blessing in the place of my lifelong dream.
Two days later, my parents finally sold their house. Hallelujah! What a blessing! Maybe this wiggle room will allow them to begin visiting me and become involved in my life in some small way! I can have my family back!
Dad tithed on every penny made from the house.
A day after he wrote the last check, my sister tried to kill herself. Fuuuuuuck.
That week she moved into my parents’ house with her 3 sons. They began plans to build her a house right behind theirs (goodbye money). Our family finally accepted that she will never be stable or independent. She will live with them and depend on them for the rest of their lives.
I am heartbroken for my sister’s broken self. I worry for my nephews. I hurt with my parents. My biggest feeling is purely selfish: my quickly aging parents have no more resources, time, or energy to actively be a part of my life. She gets it all. She needs it all.
Really, God? That is how you bless us? I give up on my dream of a husband and family and you take away the availability of my existing family as well? My parents follow you faithfully and finally catch a break by selling their home and you can’t even allow them a full week of peace before snatching it all away? They let go of their dream of a happy, peaceful retirement and now struggle with more mouths to feed than they can afford and the ever-changing actions of an addict.*
To say the least, I’ve been pissed. Until a week or so ago, God and I only spoke in the presence of God’s children, like the dysfunctional marriage I may never have. Yes, I’ll pray when I need to lead others in prayer, but when it comes to my one on one time, fuck you. You are not faithful.
*I am fully aware that an outsider can read this differently: God gave my parents a bit of extra money just in time for my sister's big need. God is preparing my heart for blahblahblahblahblah. Screw you, people who see this a different way. It sucks.
August hit. I joined the sites. I was on the search for men who were husband material. It was ugly. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Nothing makes a single, liberal, tall, fat, smart, independent, emotionally stable(ish), minister feel lonely like realizing that not many men are looking for just that. Or anything near that. I found myself scouring three different sites for a glimmer of hope. I prayed. I researched. I planned to totally clean my house. “God? Is there any chance for me to find love?”
A few weeks later, I got an answer. Christians who have sought God’s will for a long time have their various ways of feeling God speak. In my way, God spoke. Clearly and without a doubt, God told me:
Stop looking.
That is all I got. I knew it wasn’t the kind of “stop looking” that meant the man of my dreams was already in my life. It was the kind of “stop looking” that meant it was time to let this dream go.
“Stop looking” came to me in August. I didn’t want to hear it. It wasn’t until the end of October that I began going back to God with this issue and finally saying okay. I stopped looking and began to accept the strong possibility that a husband and babies in my stomach were not for my life.
I was heartbroken. I am heartbroken. Broken heart or not, I knew that God’s voice is not one to be ignored. I can leave ministry any day and find a husband within months who wants to marry a much less complicated woman who owns her own house. I can quit putting my faith and convictions so high on the list of priorities and marry a nice liberal boy who doesn’t really like Jesus but loves the gays.
No. I stopped looking and began grieving. In the back of my head, I thought that God had a wonderful blessing in the place of my lifelong dream.
Two days later, my parents finally sold their house. Hallelujah! What a blessing! Maybe this wiggle room will allow them to begin visiting me and become involved in my life in some small way! I can have my family back!
Dad tithed on every penny made from the house.
A day after he wrote the last check, my sister tried to kill herself. Fuuuuuuck.
That week she moved into my parents’ house with her 3 sons. They began plans to build her a house right behind theirs (goodbye money). Our family finally accepted that she will never be stable or independent. She will live with them and depend on them for the rest of their lives.
I am heartbroken for my sister’s broken self. I worry for my nephews. I hurt with my parents. My biggest feeling is purely selfish: my quickly aging parents have no more resources, time, or energy to actively be a part of my life. She gets it all. She needs it all.
Really, God? That is how you bless us? I give up on my dream of a husband and family and you take away the availability of my existing family as well? My parents follow you faithfully and finally catch a break by selling their home and you can’t even allow them a full week of peace before snatching it all away? They let go of their dream of a happy, peaceful retirement and now struggle with more mouths to feed than they can afford and the ever-changing actions of an addict.*
To say the least, I’ve been pissed. Until a week or so ago, God and I only spoke in the presence of God’s children, like the dysfunctional marriage I may never have. Yes, I’ll pray when I need to lead others in prayer, but when it comes to my one on one time, fuck you. You are not faithful.
*I am fully aware that an outsider can read this differently: God gave my parents a bit of extra money just in time for my sister's big need. God is preparing my heart for blahblahblahblahblah. Screw you, people who see this a different way. It sucks.
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