An unconventional coming of age experience
Dear Friends,
Last Sunday the ceiling of my church fell on me and my friends, and I think we should have been killed. But we weren't. I'm somewhat the worse for wear: a large chunk of concrete hit me in the lower back and knocked me to the ground. I was taken away in an ambulance, tied to a back board because they were afraid of back injuries. It was a scene straight of the movies, with energetic paramedics all around and a lot of fear. I had other complications in the ER, but honestly, telling the whole story over again isn't why I logged into Livejournal.
Last night I was at my Pastor's house, and we were talking about the ceiling collapse. My pastor said, "You all need to take control of your medical situation. Mommy and Daddy aren't around to do that for you. You're old enough now."
And I realized, with a shock, that he's right.
Assuming responsibility for myself is something I did (too) well as a child. However, when I got to college I entered a 'second youth' phase in which I rebelled against authority (breaking laws, college rules). I trusted Mommy Harvard to take care of me...from feeding me a balanced diet, to health concerns to going to court with me to my financial needs. Harvard did a very good job, and I'm grateful.
Of course, I graduated from college a year and a half ago now. I've been making my own life decisions since then. Last year was a strange situation, with the missionary organization dictating things from where I lived to my romantic life (i.e. no dating), and I took the opportunity to hold that organization responsible for my well-being.
They weren't as good for me as Mommy Harvard, and I left them last fall. And now it's me.
and now, when ceilings fall on me, I am the one assessing myself. Can I walk today? More importantly, should I walk today? What is the balance between pampering and pushing too hard when you're injured?
Am I lonely? Have I taken action to tell people that and reach out, or am I wallowing and wondering why I am still alone?
In an odd way, this ceiling falling on me has taught me that I am not a victim. I am an adult now, and ultimately I am responsible for my own well-being. It's not anyone else's fault when I'm unhappy or unhealthy or lonely.
It might not be my fault either. But it is my job to do something about it.
Last Sunday the ceiling of my church fell on me and my friends, and I think we should have been killed. But we weren't. I'm somewhat the worse for wear: a large chunk of concrete hit me in the lower back and knocked me to the ground. I was taken away in an ambulance, tied to a back board because they were afraid of back injuries. It was a scene straight of the movies, with energetic paramedics all around and a lot of fear. I had other complications in the ER, but honestly, telling the whole story over again isn't why I logged into Livejournal.
Last night I was at my Pastor's house, and we were talking about the ceiling collapse. My pastor said, "You all need to take control of your medical situation. Mommy and Daddy aren't around to do that for you. You're old enough now."
And I realized, with a shock, that he's right.
Assuming responsibility for myself is something I did (too) well as a child. However, when I got to college I entered a 'second youth' phase in which I rebelled against authority (breaking laws, college rules). I trusted Mommy Harvard to take care of me...from feeding me a balanced diet, to health concerns to going to court with me to my financial needs. Harvard did a very good job, and I'm grateful.
Of course, I graduated from college a year and a half ago now. I've been making my own life decisions since then. Last year was a strange situation, with the missionary organization dictating things from where I lived to my romantic life (i.e. no dating), and I took the opportunity to hold that organization responsible for my well-being.
They weren't as good for me as Mommy Harvard, and I left them last fall. And now it's me.
and now, when ceilings fall on me, I am the one assessing myself. Can I walk today? More importantly, should I walk today? What is the balance between pampering and pushing too hard when you're injured?
Am I lonely? Have I taken action to tell people that and reach out, or am I wallowing and wondering why I am still alone?
In an odd way, this ceiling falling on me has taught me that I am not a victim. I am an adult now, and ultimately I am responsible for my own well-being. It's not anyone else's fault when I'm unhappy or unhealthy or lonely.
It might not be my fault either. But it is my job to do something about it.