For those of you who have been reading the blog for awhile, I trust that by now you know it's not in my nature to gloss over tough situations. Who would it help? Not me. Certainly not you. I feel like it's easier to do this in my writing because being cryptic takes too many words. Not so easy in the real world.
I am having an incredibly difficult time, health-wise. If you know anything about Mama GP's health issues (see: lupus, fibromyalgia, and scleroderma), you can get an idea of the symptoms I'm dealing with. We're talking daily migraines that last for hours, extreme fatigue, dizziness, constant low-grade fevers. Typing about it alone makes me feel gross.
Last week I got blood work done, so we can move forward in properly diagnosing and deciding how to deal with all this jazz. No update yet from the doctor, but I'll keep Mama posted so she can update the rest of you.
At this point, "frustrated" isn't really the word. "Exhausted" is. I had a great one-on-one with my mission president yesterday. If doctors listened the way this man listens, oh my grace, the medical world would progress like mad. But I digress.
I expected that he would share a scripture of comfort with me and let me know that he cared, both of which he did. What I did not expect is the warmth that I felt when he told me, "Sister Goodpaster, do you think God thinks you're messing things up?"
"Um, yes. I'm running at about 42% efficiency right now. Work's not getting done that should be because I physically cannot do it."
Pause.
"Sister Goodpaster, do you think God understands you?"
"Of course He does."
"Then don't you think He's already well-aware of the fact that you're not well. Do you think that God would allow you to be sick and then be upset at you for it?"
"No, I just feel like this is the job that He told me to do, and I feel like I'm failing Him because I can't be 100% at the one job He wanted me to do right now."
Pause.
"I can see that there is patience to be learned. It baffles me as to why you try so hard to be patient with God and with others and yet you have such a hard time doing so with yourself."
Is he right? Of course he is. Which leads me to something that's given me loads of comfort in this awkward I-don't-what-the-heck-I-have stage.
Watch the video in this link, and then come back. I'll wait...
http://bcove.me/d8agyqna
"Before I got sick I remember defining myself by the different things I did. And I remember realizing that God saw me as someone who was worthwhile as a soul, not worthwhile because I had accomplished this, or done this, or not done this. And then I remember that I realized that I was still me, and I was still of value, even though I couldn't really accomplish much at all..."
As exhausted as I am with this entire situation, (it's been getting increasingly worse over the last couple of months or so), I adore the thought above that she expressed in the video. It's what President Wilson was trying to tell me. It's essentially what God's message is for His children. You are not the things you do. You are you and you're trying your best. At one time very early in my mission, my "best" was waking up at 6:30 with absolutely no pain, working a full/productive day with no headaches, and going to bed a little before 10. Good, sound sleep. At that point I remember being pretty pleased with myself and thinking, "I'm efficient! Life isn't 'easy' but it's pretty brilliant." And then, slowly, my health started deteriorating. I expected this. A mission will make your body straight-up feel things it's never felt before, ailments included.
What continues to be a daily lesson is this: understanding that just because I can't currently be a "100% effective missionary" doesn't mean that I'm not of worth at my job, that I'm slacking off, or that God's disappointed in me for biffing this transfer/my companionship/our area. Not a chance. I'm worthwhile as a soul. I don't have to prove anything; I just have to move forward with patience and earnest effort.
You can, too.
Friends, though the "not knowing" has been a challenge, I remember something wise a dear friend once told me: "Sometimes you have to deal with the concept of indefinite pain. God is not Santa Claus. You have to love Him the most when you feel the farthest from Him."
Final thought: I will find joy in this journey and accept the fact that I cannot control everything. I will find joy in days where all I want to do is spork my eyes out of my face. I know, I know...what the heck is joyful about that? That Heavenly Father is giving me the chance to learn and grow in ways that I probably wouldn't have figured out had I never experienced these trials.
I believe it's called humility. Be patient with yourself. Accept that sometimes efficiency should take a back seat to acceptance and an open mind and heart.
I love you guys. Now go have a laugh and enjoy a summertime frozen treat, would you?!
We hug in this family,
Sister G
11 June 2012
It's Not About Me...I Know That. I Really Do.
Not-at-all-confidential-missionary-confession:
(I'm laughing about this now, but last week it wasn't funny at all.)
This week Sister Stumpf and I struggled semi-health/semi-emotional-wise. I'm sitting here thinking that I wish someone had told me before I left for my mission, "Listen, you're going to have days where, despite your AMAAAZZZIIINNNGGG job/calling, all you will feel like doing is eating a tub of room-temperature cookie dough, watching an entire season of Grey's Anatomy, and telling the world, Anchorman-style (is it appropriate to make Anchorman jokes on a mission blog? If I'm being truthful, yes.) "I'M IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTION!!!"
Cue new realization (I have them about every 3.5 seconds here): God has a sense of humor AND He is merciful AND He understands when you're frustrated at everything for no good reason. I think it has something to do with us being human?
We taught more lessons to prepared people this past week than I have my entire mission thus far. We're talking quality teaching moments. Lessons where things just...click. Things as simple as, "Hey, God knows everything about you and He STILL loves you."
Soooooo good.
I'll sum it up this way: I need to spend less time thinking about myself, even when the feelings are justified. The whole "lose yourself to find yourself" thing. You know it as well as I do if you've spent ten seconds of your life trying to care about others. There HAS to be a point where you say to yourself, "Self, I know you feel like snuggling up to a bowl of Ben & Jerry's Late Night Snack right now, but there are bigger things at stake. Like how much you can help people when you're not thinking about potato chip chunks covered in fudge."
Last thought: this week President and Sister Wilson called a special conference with each zone separately. Overall, the message was this-- when we focus on what is BEST and stop focusing on what's most comfortable/easy/convenient, straight-up miracles happen. Stop making excuses. Stop focusing on personal accolades. Stop basically making this about you.
There are two prominent names on the tag I wear every day:
Sister Goodpaster and Jesus Christ.
Sometimes that feels heavy.
But there are moments, countless moments throughout the day, when I think, "Stop thinking so much. You're doing just fine. Keep moving forward and focusing outward."
Maybe that's today's message. Laugh at your first inclination to do "what I want to do because I deserve it, dang it!" Then embrace a willingness to look out/around/beyond you.
I can do this. You can do this. And we can have joy in the outcomes together. Yes? Yes.
Love,
Sister Goodpaster
P.S. Summer's almost here and I love it!
P.P.S. Sometimes when I go back and re-read what I'm about to send, I feel like it sounds like something from the SNL skit "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey." (YouTube is a miraculous tool if you don't know what I'm referring to.) Completely ridiculous and awkwardly reflective and leaves me feeling like I don't know whether to laugh or roll my eyes. Just...just appreciate that I get to be weird and call myself a missionary for another ten months and we'll all laugh about it later, okay? Okay! :-)
(I'm laughing about this now, but last week it wasn't funny at all.)
This week Sister Stumpf and I struggled semi-health/semi-emotional-wise. I'm sitting here thinking that I wish someone had told me before I left for my mission, "Listen, you're going to have days where, despite your AMAAAZZZIIINNNGGG job/calling, all you will feel like doing is eating a tub of room-temperature cookie dough, watching an entire season of Grey's Anatomy, and telling the world, Anchorman-style (is it appropriate to make Anchorman jokes on a mission blog? If I'm being truthful, yes.) "I'M IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTION!!!"
Cue new realization (I have them about every 3.5 seconds here): God has a sense of humor AND He is merciful AND He understands when you're frustrated at everything for no good reason. I think it has something to do with us being human?
We taught more lessons to prepared people this past week than I have my entire mission thus far. We're talking quality teaching moments. Lessons where things just...click. Things as simple as, "Hey, God knows everything about you and He STILL loves you."
Soooooo good.
I'll sum it up this way: I need to spend less time thinking about myself, even when the feelings are justified. The whole "lose yourself to find yourself" thing. You know it as well as I do if you've spent ten seconds of your life trying to care about others. There HAS to be a point where you say to yourself, "Self, I know you feel like snuggling up to a bowl of Ben & Jerry's Late Night Snack right now, but there are bigger things at stake. Like how much you can help people when you're not thinking about potato chip chunks covered in fudge."
Last thought: this week President and Sister Wilson called a special conference with each zone separately. Overall, the message was this-- when we focus on what is BEST and stop focusing on what's most comfortable/easy/convenient, straight-up miracles happen. Stop making excuses. Stop focusing on personal accolades. Stop basically making this about you.
There are two prominent names on the tag I wear every day:
Sister Goodpaster and Jesus Christ.
Sometimes that feels heavy.
But there are moments, countless moments throughout the day, when I think, "Stop thinking so much. You're doing just fine. Keep moving forward and focusing outward."
Maybe that's today's message. Laugh at your first inclination to do "what I want to do because I deserve it, dang it!" Then embrace a willingness to look out/around/beyond you.
I can do this. You can do this. And we can have joy in the outcomes together. Yes? Yes.
Love,
Sister Goodpaster
P.S. Summer's almost here and I love it!
P.P.S. Sometimes when I go back and re-read what I'm about to send, I feel like it sounds like something from the SNL skit "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey." (YouTube is a miraculous tool if you don't know what I'm referring to.) Completely ridiculous and awkwardly reflective and leaves me feeling like I don't know whether to laugh or roll my eyes. Just...just appreciate that I get to be weird and call myself a missionary for another ten months and we'll all laugh about it later, okay? Okay! :-)
04 June 2012
It's Okay--I Love You Anyway
Good morning from Washington!
Things you should know:
~ My new companion is Sister Stumpf from Indianapolis, Indiana. One hundred points to Gryffindor! (Mother's note: Carly was born and raised in Indianapolis until we moved to Florida when she was eight.) Also, she's been out not quite four months yet. She's a delightful soul.
~ I had one of the best meals of my life this week. Imagine it with me: spare ribs baked into a beautiful lasagna. Tons of cheese layered on top. If my stomach were capable of singing with pure joy, it would have. Cue the inflation of my waistline. Uh-oh; yep, there it is.
~ Feel-good moment of the week: yesterday. Early evening. Just before dinnertime. We don't have a scheduled dinner, so we're seeking out people on our ward list who we've never seen at church/we know nothing about. Sometimes these visits yield a chunkload of people who are annoyed to see you/are irritated with the general idea that you're cuttin' into their sittin'-around time. BUT, there are times when we find gems. Sis. Stumpf, recognizing that we're both tired and hungry, says, "Let's go find one more and then we'll go back to the apartment for dinner." Done! Don't worry that we show up to the home of a fiery red-headed woman (who, scarily, reminds me of my high school history teacher) who greets us with open arms and invites us into her home. It turns out that this lady hasn't been to church in 36 years, but wants to get back both for herself and to set a good example to her son, who's struggling right now. She wants to know what she should wear to church and what time it starts. And if we can set her up with the bishop and the women's group, so she can feel less awkward about not knowing anyone.
Sigh of relief at the tender experiences we have when we go just one. more. step.
All this woman was waiting for was someone to show up at her house and tell her how to get started. Coming back to something you know you should've been going to all along can be completely intimidating, even paralyzing. I'm thankful to be the person who says, "It doesn't matter how long you've been away. Just show up. People will love you."
Yes, I believe my Church and the Gospel is true. But I also believe that the Church wouldn't be half as wonderful as it is without the people who enrich it. That I get to go out and find those people? "Blessing" is really the only way I can describe it. "Humbled" works, too.
Sometimes, just before I fall asleep, I think not only about all the wonderful people I work with throughout the days, but I also think of you people. You can't give me physical hugs from across the country, but I feel your support and I know that you're there. You're such a large part of what keeps me moving forward. Not just "enduring," but enjoying.
And isn't that what life is for?
Enjoy today. Smile. And thank God for every opportunity you get to say, "It's okay. I love you anyway."
All my love,
Sister GP
Things you should know:
~ My new companion is Sister Stumpf from Indianapolis, Indiana. One hundred points to Gryffindor! (Mother's note: Carly was born and raised in Indianapolis until we moved to Florida when she was eight.) Also, she's been out not quite four months yet. She's a delightful soul.
~ I had one of the best meals of my life this week. Imagine it with me: spare ribs baked into a beautiful lasagna. Tons of cheese layered on top. If my stomach were capable of singing with pure joy, it would have. Cue the inflation of my waistline. Uh-oh; yep, there it is.
~ Feel-good moment of the week: yesterday. Early evening. Just before dinnertime. We don't have a scheduled dinner, so we're seeking out people on our ward list who we've never seen at church/we know nothing about. Sometimes these visits yield a chunkload of people who are annoyed to see you/are irritated with the general idea that you're cuttin' into their sittin'-around time. BUT, there are times when we find gems. Sis. Stumpf, recognizing that we're both tired and hungry, says, "Let's go find one more and then we'll go back to the apartment for dinner." Done! Don't worry that we show up to the home of a fiery red-headed woman (who, scarily, reminds me of my high school history teacher) who greets us with open arms and invites us into her home. It turns out that this lady hasn't been to church in 36 years, but wants to get back both for herself and to set a good example to her son, who's struggling right now. She wants to know what she should wear to church and what time it starts. And if we can set her up with the bishop and the women's group, so she can feel less awkward about not knowing anyone.
Sigh of relief at the tender experiences we have when we go just one. more. step.
All this woman was waiting for was someone to show up at her house and tell her how to get started. Coming back to something you know you should've been going to all along can be completely intimidating, even paralyzing. I'm thankful to be the person who says, "It doesn't matter how long you've been away. Just show up. People will love you."
Yes, I believe my Church and the Gospel is true. But I also believe that the Church wouldn't be half as wonderful as it is without the people who enrich it. That I get to go out and find those people? "Blessing" is really the only way I can describe it. "Humbled" works, too.
Sometimes, just before I fall asleep, I think not only about all the wonderful people I work with throughout the days, but I also think of you people. You can't give me physical hugs from across the country, but I feel your support and I know that you're there. You're such a large part of what keeps me moving forward. Not just "enduring," but enjoying.
And isn't that what life is for?
Enjoy today. Smile. And thank God for every opportunity you get to say, "It's okay. I love you anyway."
All my love,
Sister GP
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