Finding Hope in the Mudstash

Growing up in a family with four brothers and two sisters and being the second to the last child, I spent a good deal of time observing my siblings. Being the last to marry and start a family, I also observed my siblings’ relationships and struggles. We are now spread out across the county and don’t see each other very often. But when we do come together, it is as if no time has passed and we are able to fully enjoy each other’s company and begin right where we left off. I love that about our family.

My older sister, J, lives near me and we work together. My younger sister, K, currently lives about eight hours away. Before her family moved out here we lived on opposite sides of the country so years could go by without seeing each other. Us three girls have lived very different lives, have had a tremendous amount of struggles, and are all in different phases and situations in life.

Just over a week ago, K drove the eight hours to my house and all three of us girls participated in the Mudstash together. The Mudstash is a four mile obstacle course set on a ski slope in Southeast Indiana. It is very challenging but not as competitive as other mud obstacle courses out there. This was my sixth time completing the Mudstash and J and K’s second time.

All of us have been struggling with various health and life issues and weren’t sure how we would do on this journey, but we all felt it important to our growth. We all felt a need to do this course together as sisters and friends. Because of our weakened state, we all agreed that we would walk and not worry about how long it took us, which took a lot of pressure off of us.

My first Mudstash was completed shortly after the one year anniversary of me leaving my abusive marriage. It was a symbol of me taking back my power and my life. Every year I have participated in the Mudstash to remind myself of what I have been through and how far I have come. I look forward to it all year long and hope to continue the tradition for many years to come.

Last year I did the Mudstash all by myself. I had someone waiting for me at the end but did the whole course alone. That was a very interesting and positive experience. This year, though, meant so much more to me as my sisters and I worked together to make it to the end.

There were a few obstacles that were so challenging that we literally had to push and pull each other over mud hills because there was no way to do it alone. Once we were over, we even reached back to help those behind us. We took no thought about the time, only about finishing. As we got more than halfway done, J asked several times, “Why is this fun?” It was so hard at times, and yet it was fun and we wanted to be doing it.

There were over fifty obstacles ranging from mud pits, to logs in the path, to mud hills, to rocky streams, and many other things. What was interesting was when we realized that the hardest part wasn’t the obstacles, but the stretches of walking in between. When we came up to an obstacle, all of our energy would be focused on how we would accomplish the challenge before us. We would get a rush of adrenaline and no longer worried about how far it was to the end, just how we were going to get through this new challenge. During the stretches of the journey where there were no obstacles, we would get tired, feel our aches and pains, and wonder how much farther it was to the finish line. When we finally crossed the finish line, we were covered in mud, sore and bruised, but so high on the accomplishment of completing the course.

As we walked, we discussed how much this experience of the Mudstash was like life. When challenges come into life there is something to focus on and worry about. When there are no big challenges, life can get monotonous and it can get difficult to stay focused and strong in our faith.

I am reminded of the scripture in Romans chapter 5. Paul says, starting in verse 3:

3 And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

4 And patience, experience; and experience, hope:

5 And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given to us.

I can’t say that I have gotten to the point of glorying in tribulation, but I can say that I see this progression that Paul described. Tribulation has the potential to bring patience, which creates experience, which leads to hope. And that hope comes because of the love of God that we experience in our hearts because of the Holy Ghost. This year doing the Mudstash, I felt that process manifesting. Through the four mile muddy journey, I was able to find a feeling of hope. Hope that, though the path is difficult, painful, and dirty, there is an end, there are loved ones waiting with open arms to receive us. And through it all, a loving Father in Heaven is watching us stumble along, sending others/angels to push and pull us through the difficult challenges and supporting us all the way through.

I imagine that when we finish this life it will in some ways be like crossing the finish line of the Mudstash; we will be battered, bruised, and covered in the muck of life, but we will be so thrilled to have made it to the end that it will all feel worth it and we may even ask, “Is that all I had to do?”

I am so happy to have shared this experience with my sisters. I love them as well as all of my family. My daughter made us tshirts to wear during the Mudstash. On them she wrote: “Side by side or miles apart, sisters will always be connected by the heart.” This is so true and I am so grateful for my family and the chance we have to make this journey of life together.

Facing Forty

This week I turned forty… Age has never bothered me before. I have always looked forward to growing older and moving through life’s experiences. I have always wanted to look back on my life and see all the trials that are over and done with. I have always celebrated and been excited about birthdays. But this year has been different. About a month ago I suddenly realized that I was completely dissatisfied with my life. For a few weeks I could even say that I hated my life. The stress was overwhelming me. I felt I was drowning in just the normal everyday things. I realized that I no longer felt any happiness in the things that use to bring me happiness. I was depressed…

Throughout my life I have suffered at times from situational depression but this was different. This was all consuming and it wasn’t going away.  I had to force myself to get out of bed, to fix meals for my kids, to go to work. I could barely do the required things. What little housework I had been doing stopped. The heaviness was consuming me. The one thing in my life that always gave me purpose, my work, even became difficult for me. I began to question whether I even wanted to continue being a massage therapist. I felt that I was such a mess, what right did I have trying to help other people?

One morning, when I was on the brink of closing my practice, my sister and I were working together on a client. I was doing a technique I had learned through my Craniosacral training called Somato-emotional Release. I was feeling so inadequate to provide this woman with what she needed in order to get through her struggles. I knew that I couldn’t facilitate her healing without God’s help so I was praying, and praying, and praying that somehow my training would pull through for this woman and God would step in and complete the healing.

When we completed the session, the woman suddenly asked if she could pray for us. We told her of course. She held our hands and began pouring out her soul to God, thanking him for bringing my sister and I into her life. Then this woman, who had no knowledge of our personal lives, began to plead with God to help us in our personal lives that we would have what we needed and we would feel God’s love for us. All of us were crying and the Holy Spirit was so strong it was palpable. When this sweet woman left the office, I looked at my sister and said, “I guess I can’t quit doing this work.”

Now I knew that I couldn’t quit my work but I still felt depressed and didn’t know how to keep going. I prayed and asked God to help me but wasn’t quite sure that I believed He would. I kept going through the motions but still couldn’t find my smile. That’s when I went to an event sponsored by Deseret Book called, Time Out For Women. At Time Out, there are speakers and musicians who publish through Deseret Book who present a program filled with inspirational talks and music. This year there was a musician that I had not heard before named Calee Reed. She sang a song that changed my life. It is entitled, Cleanse You. You can listen to it on youtube at this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZFpoijqBGY

When Calee Reed was performing this song I couldn’t stop crying. It spoke to my soul and brought me comfort. The words that struck me the most were these:

Why did you lead me here to this uncharted sea

Did you bring me here just to drown me

What if I didn’t bring you here to drown you but to cleanse you

He whispers

I bought her cd and played this song over and over again every day. I looked back over this depressed time of my life and realized that many times I had accused God of trying to drown me. I would ask, “Why won’t you deliver me? Why are you making me go through this?” When I am not consumed in my self pity these questions are never asked. I don’t really believe that God “makes us” have bad experiences. I believe that He allows life to happen, allows our own free will and other people’s free will to create our lives. I also believe that He ALWAYS provides a way to heal and provides a way to escape. That healing and escape can come in any number of ways. For me it came in the form of a song.

God wasn’t trying to drown me! He was trying to cleanse me! He didn’t make the storm but He could use the storm to heal me, cleanse me, and make me a better person, if I would allow it. For some reason, this song caused the heaviness to lift. I guess it helped me change my perspective. I am still going through the same struggles today that I have been for a long time, but today I am not weighed down like I was. I still haven’t found all the answers to my problems, but today I feel God’s love and support. When I was focused on the storm I couldn't see or feel God. But when I looked up, I realized He had been there the whole time, waiting with outstretched arms to help me.

A few weeks ago I felt that life had robbed me of joy and I had nothing to live for. Today I take back my power that I threw away to circumstances and choose to live. Turning forty doesn’t have to represent a life of unfulfilled dreams and being a victim. Turning forty means that I have fought a good fight and now I can really live! This year I choose adventure, personal growth, and smiles. This is a new day, and a new year of my life. Today I live!

You can't tell from the picture, but it was raining. It rained all day on my birthday. So I went outside and threw my arms up to the sky and let the rain fall on me. I don't need to hide from the rain, I can let it cleanse me!

I thought I was weak

I thought I was weak…

All those years of holding back

Praying for it to end

Not knowing what I could do

Wishing there was some way to stop it

I thought I was weak…

Watching the children suffer

Feeling helpless to change anything

Becoming so tired

Not wanting to fight back

I thought I was weak…

Giving in to the pressure

Becoming what I hated

Returning what was dished out

Loathing what I had become

I thought I was weak…

Crawling away from the situation

Hiding in a shelter

Keeping distance between us

Asking others for help

Now I look back and see

It took strength to endure the abuse

It took strength to be there for the children

It took strength to stand up and fight

It took strength to walk away

All of those years…

I thought I was weak…

Turns out I was wrong

Rain

To the drought victim, rain is the saving grace. To the recently flooded, rain is the bitter enemy. Having just witnessed major flooding along the Ohio River in Southeast Indiana last week, I have been thinking a lot about rain. After a couple of days break from the rain the raging river started to return to a more normal level and the fields began to drain. But as the rain began again yesterday, the already saturated ground immediately flooded. There was just nowhere for the water to go.

Words are a lot like rain. When used wisely they are like the nourishing, normal rains that give life to the earth and grow our food. When used harshly, they can cause a drought in a relationship or cause a flood that rages and creates a need to escape.

The question is often asked “Why does a person in a domestic violence situation stay if things are ‘really that bad.’” Those on the outside may have a hard time believing the reports of abuse. They can’t comprehend that what goes on behind closed doors is different than what goes on in public.

A relationship with domestic violence is very much like the weather. It is unpredictable, often takes you by surprise, and has a great deal to do with your daily mood. It can be like travelling through a dry desert, seeking for refreshment and finding nothing but harsh, hot words that drain your strength. Or it can be like a constant barrage of wind and rain from a hurricane, breaking down your spirit and leaving you barely alive from the exposure to the elements.

The inconsistency is what makes it so difficult to navigate. The sweet words of the nourishing rain come between the hurricane and the drought, making you believe, at least for a short time, that things are different and are getting better. But then the next storm hits and you really can’t figure out what triggered this one.

There comes a point where the rain becomes so harsh and constant that there is no place left for the water to go and the flooding begins. When the flooding happens, the choices are to stay and drown, or try to get away.

When the abused person gets away, the flood waters recede and things begin to look normal again. That’s one of the reasons so many people return to an abusive relationship. At first, both parties want to clean up the mess from the flooding and make things right. But it doesn’t take long before another storm hits and the cycle starts all over again. Each time the cycle repeats, it speeds up and soon the abuser doesn’t want to help with the cleanup anymore, they just want the other person to learn to live in the flood.

Sometimes when you are in the abuse, you wish that it was as obvious as a natural disaster. It is so confusing and painful to live a life where things are different in public than they are in private. How can the storm be real when the door is closed and yet there is nothing but healthy rain in public? And when you tell the abuser about your experience in the storm, they scoff at you, throw a tornado at you, twisting all your words until you finally admit that you must be mentally ill. Then they walk away satisfied and smug as you are left with the wreckage of your soul having been torn apart.

I wish that all of the rain could be healthy, nourishing rain that comes in amounts that the land could use. I wish that all relationships could be healthy, nourishing relationships where both partners felt lifted up, respected, and loved unconditionally. There will always be storms in life, but how amazing would it be if those storms were out in the world instead of in the home? What an incredible experience it would be to have a partner who could stand beside you and take on whatever weather comes your way together.

I have been working this week on making my words more like the nourishing rain. It is hard to break the bad habits of speaking storms but I have noticed a difference in myself as well as in my children. I left the hurricane six years ago but recreated it on a smaller scale with my children. All of us were used to the hurricane and didn’t know how to live without it. None of us were happy about it, but none of us knew how to do things different. So that is what I am working on now. I am learning to stop speaking storms and instead, speak life. It is a journey that will take time, but it is a journey worth taking.

What kind of rain do you speak?