Hissy Fit

I consider myself a happy person.  I'm quick to laugh and can usually find the humor in just about any situation.  I really try not to take things too seriously because I know that given enough time and prayer situations change or resolve.  Lately though, things haven't seemed very funny.  The news is full of images of families seeking refuge over the sea, and interviews with presidential candidates fighting for their own self interests instead of ours. Miscarriage, deep depression, painful chronic illnesses, rape, and frighteningly sick children are all battles my beloveds are facing. My Facebook feed is FULL of a kind of negativity that frankly scares me.  The benefit of the doubt and extending grace have both gone out of style and instead pointing fingers, judgement, and anger are now en vogue. 

I've felt my spirit getting heavier and heavier.  I've been getting headaches and my stomach hurts.  I used to engage strangers in conversation, now I just avoid eye contact and move along.  I've been startled twice by men I don't know coming too close to me.  Our HEB is being remodeled and has made things extremely crowded.  These men were merely trying to move out of the way of another basket.  In the past I would have recognized this. On these occasions I startled and jumped so violently that both individuals asked if I was ok. It was both embarrassing and concerning. 

This week I decided I needed a media break.  I tried to not tune into the news and limited my Facebook usage. Honestly that didn't do much to make me feel better because "limited" is a relative term.  I'd already decided to uninstall social media from my phone and make some other changes when I got the call from my mom.  I was in the pool when she called so I didn't answer it.  When the phone rang again just 5 minutes later I knew I had to pick up. It was obvious the second I heard her voice that something had happened.  In a very tragic accident my sweet father had lost his dog, Kai. 

Kai and my dad had a very special connection and were constant companions.  He took that big goofy dog everywhere with him.  She would cram herself in his lap every chance she got, and she never missed a chance to sneak portions of food off his plate.  I knew in my heart that this was a loss that was going to stick.  There would be no easy way for dad to get through this.  I tried my best to offer comfort to my mom and asked what I could do for dad before getting off the phone.  The second I hung up I burst into tears, threw my phone to the ground, and literally stomped my feet.  I threw a hissy fit.  I cried and I stomped, and I cried some more.

As the minutes passed I realized that as devastated as I was for my dad my fit wasn't just for him.  I was crying for every image of broken heartedness I'd seen on the news and social media. I was crying for the judgement and hate that was being thrown around so casually. I was stomping on the injustice I felt when "bad things happened to good people" over and over. But most of all I was crying for my babies. I'm scared for them.  What kind of world are we leaving them? How can my lessons in "Do everything in kindness" really sink in when they are surrounded by, for lack of a better word, such crap? My heart aches for all of us, but it breaks for them.

Glennon Melton is an author I adore and admire.  She wrote this post that touched me.  If you've got a second read it.  I am a canary. In case you didn't read the linked post let me post a part of it that will explain: "Because yes, I’ve got these conditions—anxiety, depression, addiction—and they almost killed me. But they are also my superpowers. I’m the canary in the mine and you need my sensitivity because I can smell toxins in the air that you can’t smell, see trouble you don’t see and sense danger you don’t feel. My sensitivity could save us all. And so instead of letting me fall silent and die — why don’t we work together to clear some of this poison from the air."

The past several months I've been smelling toxins and sensing danger every time I logged onto social media or read the news.  Every time I got more bad news about a loved one I'd feel more trouble brewing.  Something has to change.  I have a friend who took this to heart and is in Greece right now providing midwifery care to refugees.  I am so proud of her and am so so envious that she has the ability to provide this kind of help.  Although I am not in a place in my life where I can take off to another country, I can do my part here.  I am vowing to not ignore it when I hear others spewing out hate. I will ask questions of those who think differently than I do instead of just assuming they are wrong.  Most importantly I will start reaching out.  My instincts have been to Shut. It. Down.  That is exactly the wrong thing to do.  I need to put out love, kindness, and grace. I need to smile and laugh.  I need to pray.  I need to give what I want my children to receive in the future.  If we all did this in our own small circles imagine the reach we could have.