Re-entry is Bumpy

I just re-read my previous post and wanted to scratch its eyes out. What idiot wrote about recovery and new directions in such an irritatingly positive and light-hearted tone? Re-entry is bumpy and difficult and uneven.  My tendency is to want to tie things up in a knot, but as soon as I turn my back it all unravels like the twine supposedly holding my string beans in the garden.

A good friend of mine, who is a retired Presbyterian minister, once said, "sometimes God just says 'no'. The door slams in front of you and He doesn't open a window anywhere, or at least not for a while. You're just left staring at the closed door." In discussing this with another friend, who is a social worker, she observed that it's really hard to see a window opening when you are throwing a temper tantrum in front of the closed door and banging on it for all you're worth.

Saturday became a day of closed doors, frustration and anxiety, as I failed to nap well (I sound like a colicky infant here, which indeed I was about 41 years ago), had difficulty herding my son and family to the soccer game, and struggled to assist my husband in any way with the new office. Fortunately I made it to church Sunday, where our minister preached an inspired text on accepting the will of God. He noted that if we don't get what we want when we pray, we're not alone. It's fine to ask for life events to bend to our will but when we're left in a different situation we have to trust that God's will takes us to a better place. Life is like Denver's western skyline, uneven peaks and valleys where the only rule is that "this too, shall pass."

So I continue to struggle with accepting the pace of my recovery and my current limitations. I try to accept where I am and not worry about where I should be (or where other people are). I am definitely on the road up from a deep valley, but it's going to take a while. I have a lifetime of stubborn willfulness to combat, where splintered doors are more common than new windows.