Sarah Nyhan

I Gave Up

#fear

  • Any Wonder

    What on earth would ever lead me to believe that God, my Father, would provide for me? What example could I possibly look to for any hope in that respect?

    No wonder I picture a god lounging up in heaven, kicked back, eating grapes. Unbothered by any wrath his negligence may have me walking through. Doling out blessings to others, but not to me. Whoever will pay him lip service. 

    I was never the kind to suck dick or kiss ass in order to get something. At least I can say that. But more importantly, that also goes back to God. I find myself feeling resentful. Real talk. Not wanting to approach. Dreading that there will be something I’ll have to do to get whatever He has to give me. Also learned that from others.

    So I hang back. Dreading. Fear. This fucked up theology from the popularized “church”. Just like they told the people of old. That bad things will happen to you if you don’t “follow god”. And then if you take that as seriously as it implies, you spend all your damn time on edge. Checking, double-checking. Testing. Worried. What if you missed something? 

    Was that Job’s mentality? Is that the point of that story? The real beginning of the Bible? That if we just get the formula right, then we’re good, right? Then god will open up his coffers and we can actually enjoy life?

    I look to the people that still attend the church I used to go to. I don’t see them enjoying life at all. Most of the examples I can think of. There is this dread and fear hanging over them. I used to be there. This shell of a person. So focused on every thought and behavior. So “sin”-conscious. Completely consumed. 

    We used watered-down words like “discernment” or “testing the spirits”. But it was all based on fear. Power and control. Of life, situations, and even God.

    And let me be clear, this was taught from the very top. Prolifically. Obsessed.

    Ridiculous. But I was there also. And I understand how it happens. 

    But hey, why don’t you start telling me about Jesus? Maybe teach me about Jesus? Maybe you could fathom a universe where God could be bigger than my weaknesses, my failures, and the shitty examples that filtered down into me before I even had a chance to think for myself?

    Oh, but that’s right – you had shitty examples too. No wonder my healing journey led me to them. As long as I wanted to play that game.

    What if this whole time Spirit has been driving me to the point where I can say no to God without fear? What if that has been the real point all this time? All these years? Decades. 

    What if the whole point of all of this has been to get me to the point where I feel confident and comfortable with deciding what I want to do and going forward without fear? Knowing that either way, I am fully Loved and I will always be fully Loved. Knowing that God is happy with me. That God wants to see me create. 

    What if you had grown adult children that came back to you every five minutes to ask for your approval on every decision they made? Think about how that would look practically?

    “Dad, should I pick the blue color or the black color? Dad, should I eat chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Dad, are you going to be mad at me if I choose to listen to this over that?”

    Can you imagine? Your adult child would have to be calling you every other second. Would you get tired of it? What would you tell them?

    Maybe, “I love you, child. I will always love you. I am more interested in seeing what you want. I want you to be free to create the life you want. I trust you. I’m here to help you if anything doesn’t work out. And even when it does. But, go; feel free. You have my blessing.”

    When ego isn’t driving.

    So, I finally stopped. I took a big risk. Monumental. I told God “no”. And I told God exactly what I wanted. And I am going for what I want. Now without fear. Now confident that God fully Loves me no matter what. Free to finally enjoy this life.

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  • Self-Love

    It really messed me up in a good way the other day when I heard that some people try to outsource self-love. Desperately. Holding everyone else accountable for loving them, but not holding themselves accountable for self-love. That hit deep.

    The more I think about it, the more important I think it is to prioritize taking care of your business. I mean one of the greatest commandments is love your neighbor as you love yourself. The order of the words seems to kinda put the neighbor first. But really, loving yourself is the first action.

    If I treat myself like crap, then it’s no wonder that I will not treat others well. If I don’t value myself, how can I really value another? If I put myself down and don’t have patience with myself, how long can I really be patient with another?

    Think of it like a gas tank. Even if I give away everything I have to others in the name of love, eventually I’ll run out. That’s what happened to me. I didn’t even know it until I hit empty. I have been recovering ever since.

    Cheerful giver. Giving from a place of abundance. Not putting myself in a place of poverty just to lift another up – like I used to do before. Does God give from a place of abundance or a place of lack?

    I think in general the problem is learned helplessness. If you were never encouraged or were even actively discouraged from loving yourself, and you had to survive on the crumbs of affection that were given to you by others, or crumbs you had to earn through performance – then is it no wonder that it never even occurs to you that you have the ability to love yourself period – much less when others don’t.

    How and where do you start when you’ve never done a thing before? I am learning to start wherever the pain rears up. You get that moment of looking outside of yourself. Upset about someone not being there for you in some way. Or unhappy with yourself. And you start there. Acknowledge the disappointment. But then ask yourself what YOU want to do about it. Keep crying and complaining about it for how long? You can do that. Or you can make changes. Little by little.

    I’ve seen people sit and wait for decades. Sitting in rooms, distracting themselves with various forms of mind-numbing entertainment. Stewing in resentment. In my experience, these are some of the ugliest people. So desperate for control that they push everyone away. Ungrateful. And unwilling to do much of anything, especially if it will require long periods of discomfort, to change their situation.

    Do you want to be well? Get up and walk.

    Of course it won’t feel that easy. Any muscle that has been atrophied for so long will take a lot of work to get into any shape. But would you rather the alternative?

    You can do it.

    I asked God for a vision today. For new vision for the future since what I thought would happen crashed dramatically to the ground. No putting the spilled milk back where it came from. Gone. Finished. Unless God performs a miracle; which may not even be best.

    I felt like God said to me that there is no grand vision. There is no master plan. There is no perfect path. That this is all about relationship and healing. That I am a co-creator of sorts. That Trinity will work with whatever I give God. So I get to choose.

    Which brings up a whole huge litany of thoughts you don’t consider when you are simply looking at rules and figuring out boundaries. Let’s start with: why? Why will I choose what I choose? What am I aiming for? Temporarily pacifying myself? No condemnation, but what if there was more?

    This is where it requires less work to sit back and ask for less freedom. To go back to Egypt. What we’ve always known. Just to ease the anxiety of not knowing. Just to have a sense of security. Even if they are bars in a prison cell.

    What will you do? What if you can’t mess up so much because very little of what you think is this life matters once you are on the other side? Once this human experience is over? I’m reminded yet again that the only one who was corrected was the one who did nothing out of fear. The others planted seeds and were tangibly rewarded.

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  • Where Are You?

    What you think you have to do? What is going to occur to you?

    Leave thinking that Love has not accepted you.

    Cleave to what Love showed us: no matter how much we can throw at Love, no matter how many punches, no matter how many thorns, no matter how many rips of the whip, no matter how many nails, or how many swords, no matter if we all turn our backs away – Love does not retaliate against us. Love is not the least bit intimidated by our blindness, deafness, and hardness of hearts.

    Love is not even offended. As Love needs no validation from us for an ego.

    Since Love is complete and perfect, there is nothing Love needs from us.

    So vast are the beautiful mysteries that scientists still have universes of questions after how many millennia? The more we know, the more discoveries remain. Is this Love in need of anything from us?

    If you haven’t noticed yet, this world doesn’t revolve around us. I’m also sometimes guilty, but thinking so is a maniacal level of insane audacity. To think Love depends on us. When we are dependent on every breath of air to even have time to consider such a statement. We do not manufacture much in our existence. All the factors alone to sustain our physical survival.

    Endless majestic sunrises and sunsets just for the hell of it? Dogs and cats that make us constantly laugh. Birds that can mimic us. Foliage and other natural theatrics that can arrest our senses. Just for the hell of it?

    Or is our environment constantly calling to us? To believe. To see. How beautiful Love is for us!

    And yet we dismiss it.

    Love is the final Word on the subject. The complete Word.

    Do we let the stories define who Love is? Or do we let Love define the stories? What lens are we reading through? I believe if we are reading any story through anything other than how Love showed up for us, then we are missing the point. I say that lovingly as I spent the large majority of my life in that space.

    Do we start with Love, perfect Love, – and that we are very good?

    Or do we insist on basing our story on fear?

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  • Flee

    True story time again. So I was driving the taxi late one night and I got a call to pick up a guy from somewhere. It was just that random. Just a guy from somewhere. Nothing special about it.

    So I pick him up and immediately introduce myself. My theory was always that people would probably be less likely to hurt me if I made a connection with them. I’d always go something like, “Hi, my name is Sarah. What’s your name?” They’d answer and then I’d say something like, “Oh cool, nice to meet you…” and then get the small talk rolling until the destination.

    Well after I introduce myself to this guy and ask him his name, he tells me his name is satan or the devil. I can’t remember exactly now, but I got the point and so do you.

    Now back in those days, I wasn’t where I’m at now spiritually. I was more fear-based than love-based. So in some senses this was like almost the worst thing that could happen to me at the time.

    But at the same time, intellectually I knew God triumphs over the devil. So I gathered every last bit of courage and strength inside myself and after he introduced himself as satan, I was like ok, I guess we’re going to go straight there so I gotta not beat around the bush. I tried not to show any fear and responded immediately back with all the boldness I could muster something like, “Oh, well I’m on the Jesus side.”

    And then I preceded to talk non-stop about Jesus. I literally tried to say the name of Jesus in every single sentence and just keep talking about Jesus.

    Ol’ dude in the back got so uncomfortable that as we are driving on the interstate access road, he just starts saying, “Stop, stop, stop! Just pull over and let me out!”

    I said, “Sir, but we’re not at your destination. Are you sure you want to get out here and not keep going to your destination?”

    “Yes, yes. Just stop. Just pull over right here and let me out!”

    Well, it was my pleasure. I pulled immediately over into a Jim’s parking lot. He couldn’t wait to open that car door and jump out.

    As he was getting out I said, “Do you want me to pray for you?” He growled back, “NO! Me and Jesus have an understanding!” Then he slammed the door and went on his way.

    I never want to go through that again, but it was so empowering not to give into intimidation. Moments like that give me the confidence I have today to lob a few stones at other Goliaths.

    By the way, people introducing themselves to me as the devil happened multiple times to me in the taxi. I might share another story another time. BUT, when I stopped being afraid is when it stopped happening. Never has this ever happened again to me in the eight years since the last time.

    Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Literally.

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  • Push Off the Wall

    True story time again.

    When I used to drive a taxi, I primarily spent my time transporting wheelchair-bound passengers using a special van. Most wheelchair-bound passengers were on government assistance of some sort and merely used the taxi to get to and from medical appointments. However there were a few that were financially independent enough to pay for the exorbitant price of a taxi ride to go out for leisure activities. Something as simple as going to a shopping center was quite a logistical ordeal for most of them.

    So this one time I pick up a lady who is not only wheelchair-bound, but is also quadriplegic. That means all four of her limbs, her arms and her legs, are paralyzed. She only was able to move the parts of her body from her neck up.

    It’s one thing to think about this theoretically, but to interact with these quadriplegic people in person just blew my mind. I can’t think of very many things in this life that are more difficult than living with quadriplegia. You are literally a prisoner of your own body. Technology has made amazing advances in helping quadriplegics. For instance, they have little mouthpieces they can use to drive their electric wheelchairs. Yet for almost everything, they are 100% completely dependent on the mercy of others to get through even the simplest of tasks. They cannot feed themselves, they cannot go to the bathroom by themselves, they cannot clothe themselves. I mean there are a lot of doubts about many people who are on government assistance, but quadriplegics do not fall into that category. They literally are unable to help themselves 99% of the time.

    But you know what they do have control over? Their attitude and their mind. And believe me – I’ve seen both sides. I don’t want to spend too much time on it, but just for contrast, I’ll say that I’ve seen the dark side of what quadriplegia can do to a person. They are struggling for control of whatever they can control and sometimes that can look like holding people hostage in various ways in order to get their needs met. Or it can look like self-destructive behavior. One of the few times I almost called the cops on someone was when I picked up an older paralyzed man from a strip club and he urinated all over the back of my taxi and then didn’t want to pay the extra clean up fee. Or the times I had a younger paralyzed man who would take the taxi frequently to go out drinking at the club and then be cursing at his caregivers and demanding they pay for the taxi when he arrived back home. I’ve seen paralyzed women torture their caregivers by being viciously emotionally manipulative. I mean, try putting up boundaries with a quadriplegic. Not the easiest task, let me assure you from experience.

    And I’m really not here to judge. Even the briefest consideration of their experience, of what it would be like in their shoes, just leaves me so scared and thankful I’m not in that position. I’m not saying their hurtful behaviors are ok. I’m just saying I can understand how easy it would be to go there in that situation.

    But that being said, there were those few quadriplegics that I encountered that broke the mold. That rose above. That blew me away with their strength of character, mind, and heart. Some had full-time jobs that they went to. Others travelled. But my favorite was this woman who owned her own business! I picked her up from the shopping center one day and took her to her home in the more expensive part of town.

    Now you might think she started her business before she became paralyzed? But no, she started her business after she was a full-blown quadriplegic! She used her mind and organized a service around what she knew best – caregiving! She created an employment agency for caregivers. She would recruit caregivers, interview them, and then find and send them out on caregiving jobs. How perfect, eh? She of all people knew what to look for in a caregiver.

    Not only did she inspire me tremendously, but she also challenged me! I transported her at least twice and it was the last time that I spoke with her that she challenged me. I guess in her line of work, she was used to checking people out and evaluating their strengths and abilities. I don’t know how we got on the subject, but she called me out. She questioned why I was doing the taxi-driving when I had potential to do other jobs that paid much more and were safer.

    I was at a loss for words when she challenged me. I mean she had true authority, no posturing. I didn’t feel shamed, but any excuse I had paled with the obstacles she had to overcome in her position. And she knew it. She kept pushing me as our time was coming to a close. It was an encouraging rebuke. She had full faith in me. I remember her parting words: “Push off the wall, Sarah! Push off the wall!”

    I knew exactly what she meant. I was a swimmer for many years. The people who are scared in the pool cling to the wall, the side of the pool, the whole time. She was speaking my language. That’s what I was doing with my life.

    She was challenging me to let go of the security of keeping myself in the relatively safe position of under-performing. Of not enduring the pain of failure to reach my full potential. Yes, any honest work is 100% honorable. But I was letting fear get the best of me. Whereas she had physical paralysis, I had mental analysis paralysis.

    Not only was she a stranger speaking life to me, but her success in the face of so many challenges was so inspiring! Amazing to think that we could let fear imprison us more than a paraplegic would let their body imprison them.

    “Push off the wall, Sarah! Push off the wall!”

    It was shortly after that and at least two other angels in my taxi that also gave me the same challenge and spoke life to me, that I gathered the courage to start to not define myself by my failures. I gathered what little self-confidence I had left and started applying for jobs where my life wasn’t threatened on a daily basis. And what was the first job I was offered? Working as a technical support agent at The Scooter Store! Helping paralyzed people when their electric wheelchairs malfunctioned. Wow, eh?! Full circle! I’d like to think there was some Divine Intervention at work there.

    What limits am I putting on myself today? I am Loved. It’s ok to try and fail. This isn’t about performing for the sake of performing. This is more about considering regrets. Will I respect myself tomorrow for the decisions I make today? Push off the wall. 😁

    And this is also about speaking life to one another. You never know who needs you to see them today. When they’ve lost sight of the accurate picture of themselves. You never know where your seed of encouragement might land on someone who needs it today. Don’t underestimate whatever impact you can make. My paralyzed customer is proof of putting whatever gifts we have been given to work. Working with whatever we have. You are important, needed, and have a lot to offer!

    Push off the wall. 😁

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  • Heads Up

    They call it crazy until you’re “successful”. If you “make it” then they come asking you to show them how to do it. Until then, courage in this capitalist consuming society is not only extremely expensive but also very dangerous. Don’t be fooled by all the “go after your dreams” rhetoric; success is idolized and they permit process only to that point. God’s love and acceptance gives you wings but the crabs will still try to keep you in the bucket. Especially if they consider your performance a reflection of theirs. Can we give people a little more room to be human and not have everything figured out? There isn’t a manual for this kind of flight. It’s not blasphemy to try something and learn a few lessons. Trust yourself and others with God and His never-ending love.

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  • Five Percent

    Being given a promise is in many ways similar to being with child. There is excitement at the beginning. Planning how to celebrate after the promise has been fulfilled. Other people are initially eager to discuss your hopes. It all feels so grand.

    And then everything settles down and the work of waiting begins. Every day you check to see how much closer you are. Eventually the days blur and the excitement of the revelation of the promise fades. All you can see is the burden and the weight of carrying desire. Heavy, heavy. None around you can do the heavy lifting for you. This is yours alone even if they have been through similar times.

    You alone sit with this promise growing and growing inside of you. It feels like you are a shadow of what you once were. It feels like this thing you think you have created has overtaken everything you were and ever will be.

    Where am I? Who am I? Do I even want this anymore?

    All you want is to be done with the waiting. Get on with life already.

    There is a saying that goes something like: it takes proportionally significantly more effort to get from 90% to 95% than it does to get from 0% to 90%. And then even further, it takes proportionally significantly more effort to get from 95% to 100% than it does to get from 90% to 95%.

    That’s what this picture represents to me. The photo was taken in Idaho. Such a small distance between the two sides, but look at the depth and the work it took to make a way from one to the other. How much longer did it take to build the bridge that spans relatively a few small feet compared to the time it took to pave the road that led to this crossing?

    This bridge is a monument to blood, sweat, and tears. And yet, the visitors who flock to gaze upon this accomplishment are probably correctly focused on the beauty. For years and years and years.

    And yet you can’t do it for anyone else. This is your baby. You know you have to do it even if nobody else comes along for the ride. You have to see this through. Even if all you feel is pain. All you see is work.

    Our promise will be worth it. #nevergiveup

    And yet there are no guarantees. That’s why most tap out or never even try. At least you will be able to look yourself in the mirror and respect the effort. Your heart.

    Why not? One life. Not a final exam. What will matter most once you are facing your last moments? Less regrets.

    At least I tried.

    Hopeful.

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