To Flush or Not To Flush

I'm a woman of simple pleasures.  Running water, electricity and a flushing toilet.  I'm a big fan of all three. Only one of them brings out the devil in me when it's not working properly.

The flushing toilet.

Feel my pain, if you will.  Using the toilet, the throne or whichever name you call it is an experience meant for only one person at a time.  It's private, quiet and can be a good time to just sit and think (unless you're a mom - sorry moms!).

When you are finished there is a lever you press down that takes all your internal stuff away.  It's like watching TV.  We all do it.  We stand over the throne, watch it spin around, watch it go down into the magic hole where it disappears and then we leave, knowing our little secret will remain a secret.

This is what I was thinking when my accomplishment (let's be honest - sometimes we are very proud of what we've made) vanished into the secret zone.  And yet....I wasn't sure if it had really made the "Road Less Traveled" - M. Scott Peck.

Yes, I should have walked away.  I should have let it be and not been overly curious.  But I couldn't help myself.  I had to give that lever one more push down just to be sure.

The word "regret" came to my mind as soon as the water began to rise very quickly.  It was as if the clog took on it's own revenge and was now boss.  The plunger was no match.  It kept folding up and every time it did water splashed on the floor.

Not a little splash of water but a wave of water.  I regained control of the plunger and gently coaxed the clog to push through.  WHOOSH!  It cleared itself out.

After cleaning the floor and reflecting on this little experience, I thought about how this is so similar to panic and anxiety.  Hear me out.

There's something I don't see that usually triggers my panic and/or anxiety.  It's lurking but I don't know it's there.  Even if I suspect it's there I don't have confirmation that it will be a problem.

When it surfaces, it creates other problems including a reaction to the initial trigger.  Now I've got a whirlwind of stuff swirling around me and I feel out of control.  What do I do?

I grab my plunger (phone a friend, do some writing, distract myself, go for a walk, etc.).  If it doesn't work the first time, I change it.  I keep changing it until I find something that works.

Eventually, I will be settled down.  I will no longer be breathing in short breaths.  I will no longer have sweaty hands.  I will be able to ask for help and receive what it is I need.

It's okay to flush the toilet.

The First Thanksgiving

I was looking for a complete history of Thanksgiving.  I stumbled across this one which is really good.  Please click on the link below or read the excerpt in it's entirety.

It never ceases to amaze me at how involved God is in our lives for a greater purpose.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving.

American History: The First Thanksgiving - Chuck Missler - Koinonia House

The early settlers of America, who braved the privations of those incredibly difficult years, were a fabulous lot, indeed. We can hardly imagine the burdens they endured to make a new life for themselves in a new land. Their turning point began one Friday in the middle of March,1621.

An Indian, wearing nothing but a leather loincloth, strode up their main street to the common house, and to their startled faces boomed in flawless English, "Welcome."

Samoset

His name was Samoset, a sagamore (or chief) of the Algonquins. He had been visiting the area for the previous eight months, having learned his English from various fishing captains who had put in to the Maine shore over the years.

He returned the following Thursday with another Indian who also spoke English, and who was to prove "a special instrument of God for their good, beyond their expectation." His story was to prove no less extraordinary than the saga of Joseph being sold into slavery to Egypt. His name was Tisquantum, also called Squanto.

Squanto

His story began in 1605 when Squanto and four other Indians were taken captive, sent to England,and taught English to provide intelligence background on the most favorable places to establish colonies. After nine years in England, Squanto was able to return to Plymouth on Capt. John Smith's voyage in 1614.

Lured and captured by a notorious Capt. Thomas Hunt, he, with 27 others, were taken to Mlaga, Spain, a major slave-trading port. Squanto, with a few others, were bought and rescued by local friars and introduced to the Christian faith. Thus, it appears that God was preparing him for the role he would ultimately play at Plymouth.

He was able to attach himself to an Englishman bound for London, then he joined the family of a wealthy merchant, and ultimately embarked for New England in 1619. He stepped ashore six months before the Pilgrims landed in 1620.¹

When he stepped ashore he received the most tragic blow of his life. Not a man, woman, or child of his own tribe was left alive! During the previous four years, a mysterious plague had broken out among them, killing every last one.² So complete was the devastation that the neighboring tribes had shunned the area ever since. The Pilgrims had settled in a cleared area that belonged to no one. Their nearest neighbors, the Wampanoags, were about 50 miles to the southwest.

Stripped of his identity and his reason for living, Squanto wandered aimlessly until he joined the Wampanoags, having nowhere else to go. But God had other plans
.

God's Provision

Massasoit, the sachem (or chief) of the Wapanoags, entered into a peace treaty of mutual aid with the Plymouth colony that was to last as a model for forty years. When Massasoit and his entourage left, Squanto stayed. He had found his reason for living: these English were helpless in the ways of the wilderness. Squanto taught them how to catch eels, stalk deer, plant pumpkins, refine maple syrup, discern both edible herbs and those good for medicine, etc.

Perhaps the most important thing he taught them was the Indian way to plant corn. They hoed six-foot squares in toward the center, putting down four or five kernels, and then fertilizing the corn with fish: three fish in each square, pointing to the center, spokelike. Guarding the field against the wolves (who would try to steal the fish), by summer they had 20 full acres of corn that would save every one of their lives.

Squanto also taught them to exploit the pelts of the beaver, which was in plentiful supply and in great demand throughout Europe. He even guided the trading to insure they got full prices for top-quality pelts. The corn was their physical deliverance; the beaver pelts would be their economic deliverance.

The First Thanksgiving

The Pilgrims were a grateful people-grateful to God, grateful to the Wamp-anoags, and grateful also to Squanto. Governor Bradford declared a day of public Thanksgiving, to be held in October.

Massasoit was invited and unexpectedly arrived a day early-with an additional ninety Indians! To feed such a crowd would cut deeply into their stores for the winter, but they had learned through all their travails that God could be trusted implicitly.

And it turned out that the Indians did not come empty handed: they brought five dressed deer and more than a dozen fat wild turkeys. They helped with the preparations, teaching the Pilgrim women how to make hoecakes and a tasty pudding out of cornmeal and maple syrup. In fact, they also showed them how to make one of their Indian favorites: white, fluffy popcorn! (Each time you go to a movie theatre, you should remember the source of this popular treat!)

The Pilgrims, in turn, provided many vegetables from their gardens: carrots, onions, turnips, parsnips, cucumbers, radishes, beets, and cabbages. Also, using some of their precious flour with some of the summer fruits which the Indians had dried, the Pilgrims introduced them to blueberry, apple, and cherry pie. Along with sweet wine made from wild grapes, it was, indeed, a joyous occasion for all concerned.

The Pilgrims and Indians happily competed in shooting contests, foot races, and wrestling. Things went so well (and Massasoit showed no inclination to leave) that this first Thanksgiving was extended for three days.

The moment that stood out the most in the Pilgrims' memories was William Brewster's prayer as they began the festival. They had so much for which to thank God: for providing all their needs-and His provision of Squanto, their teacher, guide, and friend that was to see them through those critical early winters.

A National Institution

By the end of the 19th century, Thanksgiving Day had become an institution throughout New England. It was officially proclaimed as a national holiday by President Abraham Lincoln in 1863. Traditionally celebrated on the last Thursday in November, it was changed by an act of Congress in 1941 to the fourth Thursday of that month.³

Originally observed to acknowledge the provision of God, let us also make this national holiday a very special time to thank Him for our own provision-our families, our sustenance, and, above all, our redemption in His Son!

Let's also pray that He might restore the religious freedom that those early Pilgrims cherished so dearly-and that the current enforced paganism that has invaded our land be curtailed. This country is now becoming what the Pilgrims had risked their very lives to flee from.

Self and Sickness

It's quite possible one of the reasons I'm out of sorts is that I don't feel well.  I stayed home all day, sleeping on and off.  I watched a few shows, ate some food and drank some liquids.

I don't mind not feeling well as long as I don't have a headache.  Yup, I've had a headache/migraine all day.  I took the meds but it was a temporary fix.  My head still hurts.

I want to be able to write but I cannot focus.
I want to be able to process yesterday's blog but I can't stay awake.
I want to be able to go outside but I can barely get up to get juice.

The "I wannas" are not winning.  Instead, I honor my body and my spirit by letting it rest.  Furthermore, I don't push it to do more than it can.

I used to.  I used to push it way past it's limit.  Then I'd get sicker and be out of commission longer.  It never helped.

I've learned through trial and error to take care of myself.  Even if it means saying, "No" to someone I love or something I enjoy doing.

Only I can make myself number one.  Taking good care of myself will in turn teach others how I take care of myself.  They will see the benefits.  Whether or not they agree with me isn't important.

This is the body God has given me.

It's my responsibility.

SASHET

I'm still wondering what's churning inside of me.  I don't want to be with anyone.  I want to isolate in my home, not answer the phone and curl up under the covers.

I don't feel depressed though I wonder with the cloudy gray skies if SAD has something to do with it.  I'm trying not to over think it.  Let's see if I can identify the feelings.

The method I'll be using was created by my therapist, Faith Gallup, LCSW.  She calls it SACHET.

Sad?  Yes, for sure.  I had a best friend for the better part of 10 years.  She's been in my dreams and in my thoughts. This is the same person I'm referencing below.  It's also the beginning of the holiday season.  With the feelings of my Dad being stirred up, it adds to the loss of him, Cathy, and Aaron.  Third, my friend Laurie who disappeared last year has disappeared again.  I have to do something about that.

Angry?  Yeah, a little bit here, too.  Even though my car is paid off I still have some obligations.  I want to be able to get the things I need and maybe one or two things I want.  Nothing extravagant, just simple fun.  Then I received a request to give money toward a missions trip from someone I've had no relationship with for at least 3-5 years.  I'm good enough to ask for money but not good enough to have a friendship?

Scared?  Yeah, a little bit.  Sometimes the cold weather scares me because I'm afraid of falling and hurting my back.  But that hasn't happened so it's not a credible fear.

Happy?  Not really.

Excited?  About Feed My Starving Children, yes.

Tender?  Yes, toward Pam as she's struggling with her Prescription D phone calls.  I was able to give her comfort and support.  I gave her a plan which we will do together next week.

It looks as if I have more feelings than I originally thought.  That was a good exercise.  I'm too tired to do the next step of developing a problem solving plan.

Maybe in a day or two.

Pulled Anxiety

I was going to be dog sitting for about three days.  I was having higher than normal anxiety.  It was concerning me because it was proving difficult to settle myself down.

I spent time trying to relax.  I told myself positive thoughts.  I knew I was going to a safe place because I'd been there before but still.  I felt high anxiety.

I spent a few moments pulling apart the feelings I was having instead of trying to cope with them as a bundle.  I found familiar feelings and then I found some surprising feelings.

I felt trapped - like I wouldn't be able to leave her house.
I felt lonely - like I wouldn't be able to see my kitties.
I felt scared - like I wouldn't be able to visit the safety of my home.
I felt vulnerable - like I wouldn't have the right food.

Once I was able to identify these feelings, I made a plan to take away these fears.

She gave me a house key and a garage door remote so there was no expectation of me staying there 24/7.
I told her I'd need to go home to check on my kitties and clean their kitty boxes.  This was met with great support.
I was able to not only go to my own home but also my sister's home to let out her dog.
I picked up some food from my house that would be simple and good tasting.

When I can push myself past the high level of anxiety and get to a place of basic thinking and functioning, I can make good choices that honor my commitment and benefit my self-care.

How about that????