Occasionally Queer

I want to start off by disclaiming, I am coming off a very bad audition, and am attempting to write this in hopes of seeing the light in my own struggles. (Which I guess is what this whole blog is for)

You know rising to the occasion. *Insert face palm emoji here*

***

Cut to July 2018, a YouthWorks summer is in full swing, we join Kayla as she proceeds to have melt down as a Site Director, and, very dramatically, tells her close friends, she is taking a break from school cause she "just can't handle it." 

I did a pretty alright job this summer. Ministry happened, no one was terribly hurt, everyone got fed, we had awesome evaluations from participants, and I watched my staff grow it was possibly my favorite things of the summer.

The community of Harrisburg has started to become personal friends. I am so incredibly blessed by the way they love me. They serve every teenager that walks through their grasp week to week, just as much if not more than the other way around.

There is a reason Harrisburg is called Heavensburg.

As the summer started, there were a lot of things I felt really comfortable in. You know it being my 4th year with the organization, I might know a thing or two.

But there were a lot of things I was really insecure about.

Good Lord. Finances. It's relatively easy, when details, are your forte, but when you are a big picture person, those tasks feel meaningless and pointless.

But you have to have money in order to make a YouthWorks summer happen AND you have to be a good steward of those things, to have intentional ministry happen.

My poor boss Katie, is a goddess among mere mortals. She was so patient with me.

Ya'll it's not like I had to do an insane amount of math I just had to report the receipts, but you'd think the way I treated it I had to translate the entire works of William Shakespeare to German!

I guess what I am trying to tell you is, just another occasion in which I chose not to rise to.

It's not like I did poorly.

There were things I did this summer that I did really well.

I thought out side the box, handled conflict really well, I cast vision really well, and ya'll, I man the Kitchen like a boss. 

I'm not saying I did not do well this summer, but what I am saying is that with every bar that is set, I reach up to grab it but actively choose to not grab it.

I am not entirely certain, why this is.

But I think this summer I came to an interesting conclusion.

With out going too much into detail, and making this blog even longer than it is going to be, a lot of stuff has happened in my life, and I have decided that I don't want to let people get too close.

I actively choose to be looked over so that I can make the excuse that I'm being under estimated, so that I do not have to rise to the occasion.

If someone can't get close to me then they can't point out all the ways I am tender and not normal, and weird, and do things strange, and how gross and smelly I am.

If I'm fat, no one will want to pursue me sexually, or intimately, or hurt me.

Then I can do nothing, I don't have to grow,I don't have to confront the parts of me I am ashamed off.

The weird thing about this fear, is all the things I want to hide manifest in me anyways despite me attempting to hide them.

Everyone has a front, but my front is a life style.

If I am honest about who I am, then no one confronts me.

If I am open about my struggles then people think I am working on them, and they don't need to point them out.

It's a 3 ring circus.

I look confidant, and am vulnerable so you don't see the absolute mess I am, or at least you excuse my mess.

You're never really sure which circle to pay attention too.

I have you all fooled.

EL OH EL. Trust me. I know that is a false statement.

I asked myself this summer what my life would look like, if I committed to myself.

If I committed to the places God has called me too.

I am almost 30.

I'm a bit of a late bloomer.

I had a lot of my childhood taken from me, (see? full of excuses!) I had to be an adult really fast.

But it wasn't like a real adult.

I was a makeshift adult.

So, how do I figure out how to be a real adult?

Better Question!

what it look like if I was patiently confident in the person I already am?

I don't know what that would look like, I often am scared of what that Kayla would look like.

***

Flash forward to the present, Kayla has decided to commit to school again, and is kicking ass and taking names(kind of) at moving forward with life. 

Coming home was hard, and fast, suddenly the very direct habit of communication cannot be used on your best friends and class mates. (opps! Sorry sweet friends. Love you!)

I did something to my back that I still have yet to understand except that it's just in a constant state of spasm.

It seems to be loosening up the more I have to walk with public transportation.

But it's really slowed me down.

Jumping back into Starbucks has been easy but also, mission work is SO much more exciting than making coffee and smiling every time someone tells you how to do your job.

But I think my biggest fear of my return is school.

I jumped back in with a lot of gusto!

Which I surprised my self by.

I made a two year plan, signed up for the hard classes.

Decided that I either had to commit to school or quit.

I don't think I could live with myself if I quit.

So here I am. Not quitting.

As much as I want to.

People like to tell me that I need to find the joy in growing and doing the hard things.

But there isn't a lot of joy in growing, except the moment you are on the other side of that growth and you can look back at it and feel accomplished.

I don't want to live my life with out joy.

I don't want to go my whole life not being confident in my life.

Have ya'll watched the show Queer Eye?

If not you absolutely NEED to.

Such a BRILLIANT way of tangibly entering into someones life and helping them take control of it again. (but the depths of that show need to be reserved for an entire other blog.)

Basically 5 very fabulous gay men each a professional and expert in different fields take a person who maybe isn't as confident in themselves or who have isolated themselves or maybe spent too much time taking care of others and they help provide them with the basic tools and necessities to live their lives well.

So one, is a nutritionist and a chef, another is an interior designer, a life coach, a fashion stylist, and a hair and skin care specialist.

They each take time to care for the person and teach them a tangible way to care for themselves, without judging or completely changing their previous life style.  It's a beautiful example of "meeting someone where they are at.

While I was bingeing season 2, I kept thinking to myself, I wish I would be nominated for that show.

That would be so crazy! Then I wouldn't have to take responsibility for myself! Someone else could do it for me!

But the more I thought about it the more I realized I just needed to Queer Eye myself.

So. I wrote down all their names and gave myself goals under each of the Fab 5's names.

Karamo(My insides)
--Learn how to handle my anxiety, with grace and tenderness.
--Learn what it looks like to be confidant.

Tan(My Outsides)
--What does it look like for me to work out? realistically. Gently.
--What clothing makes me feel confidant and comfortable and like I am myself?

Bobby(My living space.)
--What does it look like to take ownership of my space? I. E. Cleaning
--How can I decorate my space to make it feel like it is restful and peaceful?

Antoni(My nutrition)
--How can eating be an act of care for myself?

Johnny(Self Nurturing)
--What does it look like to take ownership of my appearance?
--How can I take care of myself hair and skin and not feel like it's a burden or I'm doing it the wrong way?

I put my goals in the form of a question because, these goals are going to change, and questions are open ended, because I honestly don't know what some of these look like yet.

All I do know, is I am really tired of feeling unstable. I am very tired of feel like I don't know what is happening inside of me or around me.

These feelings lead to me attempting to have a false sense of control, and a chaotic mind set.

I want to travel, and perform, and learn, and love.

I can't do those things well when I don't know who I am or don't feel like my basic needs are met.

Yesterday I had my second therapy session since I have been back, and I had this moment of break through.

I don't want to do hard things any more. I have had so many hard things in my life.

But the reality is I will have to do hard things forever. Leaving this world will be hard.

So I don't want to waste any more time not being confidant in who I am, making excuses for not doing hard things. giving up too quickly.

I don't have to have joy. I just have to do it. Hard things don't have to make my confidence dissolve, for good, and I can be kind to my self and care for my self. and I can soft show dance, and sing, and act, and learn/play ukulele as Mrs. Tottendale in The Drowsy Chaperone!

I want to be the person God has created me to be.

I want to be alive.

I want to be kind to myself and allow myself to grow.

I want to gloriously rise to the occasion and do unglamorous basic things that care for myself.

Mostly, I just want to be haunting you all at my funeral and hear you say things like "She lived her life fully" or "She knew what it meant to love"

Anything extra is a just a bonus.

I'm going to start being honest about my life.

My life is a mess. You all know, but I want to start letting people into it and not being embarrassed. 

Like, I hate people seeing my messy room, So I'm going to throw it up on the Instagram.

I'm going to answer all my Queer Eye questions, and I'm going to do homework and read, and be in a show, and I'm going to warm up well, and sing and dance well, and I'm going to do it with a lot of love and a lot of mistakes.

And God is going to show back up. Again. Like They Promise They always will.

Please be patient with me. I'm going to be messing up a lot and you all are going to see it.

Thanks for reading.

Thanks for caring about me.

Occasionally YouthWorks.

One of the things that makes YouthWorks crazy for the staff, is the situations you get put in. 

I wish I could be more detailed than that, but it's hard to put your finger on it. 

I mean have you ever delegated an entire meal to 10 middle schoolers, so they can make 30 pounds of taco meat for 80 people?

Have you ever been sleeping on your air mattress and someone comes up to you and says "Kayla, all 16 of the toilets aren't working?

Have you ever been concerned for the safety of 70 youth traveling in giant passenger vans in downtown New Orleans? 

I could name so many other moments when you just can't help but go "WHAT IS MY LIFE?!" but I would have to explain the situation to explain the situation I am talking about. You catchin what I'm sayin?

Youthworks puts you in this place, where you have to say "It's God or me." 

I choose me almost 80% of the time. 

It pushes you out of your comfort zone. 

It forces you to see all our insecurities and lays them out on the table for everyone to see. 

I am really lucky I have such honest people in my life because I realized something today, in the middle of filling out paper work in the late hours....

I am holding on to so much of my past still, because my broken past allows me to stay safe. 

It explains or excuses why I am not good at things. 

It protects me from having to do the hard things I don't want. 

It allows me to stay comfortable and "safe" because I can say "oh, I have ptsd from *insert trauma from my past here* there for I don't have to be as honest, and people who try to hurt me won't be able to. 

I am holding on to my self. 

Instead of letting go showing up and listening to the spirit, trusting that "he who has created a good work in me will finish out to completion.", 

I try to control things that don't matter. I find no joy in the small things, and I build up barriers. 

I shoot my self in the foot. I find every way I know how to not do the hard things, to not give God control. 

Man, I have blamed him for so much of my past. 

So much of who I am is blamed on what I can't control. 

Instead of just taking responsibility for the things I can control and moving Onward. 

I don't know why God has me back in Harrisburg or back with Youthworks, but I know he is not finished. 

It's my teams first week in programming, and a bunch of things have happened that are out of our control, and I keep needing to thank God for those things, because these things make me a better leader, a better human, and creates in me a more flexible and honest faith in who God is. 

But, I keep getting worked up and tired. 

I want to be the person that see's joy in all the little moments, that celebrates the little things, that see's joy and light in the darkest and deepest of caverns. 

We exist to point others at Jesus and tell them that is where our hope comes from. 

We can't point very well when our hands are too busy worried about something else. 

Jesus break me down. 

Remind me what it means to breathe in deep your rest. 

Show me how to love like you. 

Show me how to love myself like you love me. 

Show me how to love my team mates and the participants well. 

Let me be a good example of what it looks like to live like I am loved. 

Occasionally I hate The Church

I was told tonight by a relatively new friend, that I have the gift of tears.

If Christ's Church is a body, I am the eyes that see and cry.

"Most of the time that's all people need is just to be seen and know someone hurts for you."

Well World.

I cry for you a lot.

I'm crying writing this blog.

In fact I just spent the last 20 minutes on the floor in my bathroom, full blown choking I was crying so hard.

I do this every once in awhile.

Cry so hard I can't breathe, I can't see, I can't move, I can't think, I get a headache, I feel like I am about to die, feel like I will never stop crying.

It's always triggered by pain, by this feeling of not being able to fix this shitty ass world, that shitty ass leaders are ruining and there is NOTHING I CAN DO TO MAKE MY FRIENDS PROBLEMS GO AWAY BECAUSE THE PEOPLE RUNNING THIS GOD FORSAKEN COUNTRY CARE MORE ABOUT HOW MUCH MONEY IS IN THE BANK THAN THE PEOPLE THAT LIVE IN THIS STUPID ASS COUNTRY WE CALL HOME.

But I digress.

I cry.

I cry because my friends are hurting.

I cry because one more Christian sibling has posted on Facebook some ridiculous, graceless metaphorically line drawn in the sands of the freaking perfect beaches of heaven and said

"Look at me! I am how to be a good christian! I am the perfect example of what it means to be a humble, honest, good christian."

I cry because the God, that for some reason or another I can not shake or seem to ignore, is boiled down to a freaking line.

A list of rules and regulations by which he will rule with an iron white skin fist.

I cry, because for the past week I have been to the doctors office 4 times, with zero results, more bills, and more tests that I can't afford to take.

I cry because if the Church knew what was happening in my heart, they wouldn't want me around.

I cry, because my friends have been told that Jesus doesn't love them because of the way they are.

I cry because there are people that don't care.

I cry, because they can't care.

I cry, because we are in the middle of a social revolution, and I know there are people who will refuse to be my friend after this.

I cry because we as a society have internally been socialized to believe that some people are better than others, and some of you reading this will probably disagree with me and do one of two things, either, disagree with me and pretend nothing is wrong, or you will disagree with me and just disappear into the void.

I cry because there is so much stuff to do, and I just don't know if I can do it.

I cry because I actually believe I will never be loved by another human being.

I cry because I have SO MANY friends who actually believe the same thing about themselves.

I cry because I can't fix that part of our brains that tell us that.

I cry because Jesus can but he's not talking to me.

I cry because Jesus has told me he loves me today 3 times, and for the first time in my life, it's not enough that he loves me.

I cry because I feel abandoned, to cry, to scream out to God

“Eloi! Eloi! Lama sabachthani?”

My God My God why have you forsaken me!?

I cry because I am not being crucified on the cross and here I am doubting the presence of The Spirit in me. 

I cry because I want this world to experience what it feels like to live a whole life. 

But I cry because we can't show the world what it looks like to live whole lives because we are too busy policing the lives of people who don't love Jesus. 

I cry because posting this could get me kicked out of Church. 

Not my church, but CHURCH. 

I cry because I have friends who literally believe they will catch fire if they walk into church. BECAUSE CHURCH HAS TOLD THEM THIS TIME AND TIME AGAIN.

I cry, because I wish the biggest story in the media right now wasn't the #metoo movement, and that leaders in THE CHURCH, were not actively rooting against these people. 

I cry, because the biggest show of support towards the #metoo movement was a bunch of celebrities that THE CHURCH actively speaks out against, were wearing white roses!! 

WHERE ARE YOU CHURCH?!?! Where are your white roses?!?

I get it! This post is a massive generalization, but we are one body. We are one people. 

We are our weakest links. 

I cry. A lot. 

But the reality of where I am is that I actually haven't cried in 6 months, because I can't any more. 

Anger is too great a burden too bear and there is so much to be angry for. 

I cry because small acts of big love, seems tireless and unfruitful. 

I cry because I will loose friends over this post, because my anger and dissatisfaction is too much to confront with love and understanding.

So here I am. 

Literally on my knees in my bath room crying, because I've bottled up a lot of anger and hurt the past couple of years. 

On my knees, because my friends are hurting and I can't help them except for the meaningless notion that I am "there for them." 

On my knees begging that Jesus show up. 

Fix this.

So tonight, I use my spiritual gift of tears, to say, I see you world, I have no answers, I don't think there are any answers, except to be with each other, cry, and remind each other to hope, even in darkness. 

“Eloi! Eloi! Lama sabachthani?”