You Threw Off My Groove!

Remember the movie "The Emperor's New Groove"?  Fun movie.  Starts off with the emperor dancing and grooving, he bumps into someone and exclaims, "You threw off my groove!" 

That's how I feel with writing.  I used to journal regularly, but for the last many years, it hasn't happened as much, or in the same way with the same effectiveness.  It was always a good way to organize my thoughts or process life events.  I suppose if I haven't been doing that, it means that there are many years of unorganized thoughts and unprocessed events.

So, this last week, I've started trying to journal more.

Years ago, when I was about 12, I thought I was so forgiving, because nothing "bothered" me.  But really, I was very good at forgetting...stuffing.  Even though I "forgot", the impact of whatever circumstances were still there.  Once I started journaling, it was all better processed, and not forgotten. 

There are a lot of things I've forgotten since I left Omaha.  I did some processing in Michigan.  I know I cried daily for several months, missing the family and friends I left behind.  And I know the Lord was with me, comforting me.  Once I moved to Texas, almost all of my "process" journaling ceased.  My groove was REALLY thrown off.  I really missed my friends in Michigan, just as much as I did in Omaha, but I hardly cried at all.  Someone told me that moving across the country wasn't a big deal, because moving overseas was harder.  And for some reason I listened and decided I wasn't supposed to be upset about the whole thing.

Really?  Leaving ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS and moving to a place where you know NO ONE isn't supposed to be upsetting?  What crazy person would say or think that?  Oh.  But not really feeling it, being upset, crying, all that means that God never had the opportunity to meet me and comfort me in it -- not more than once here and once there. 

I recently heard someone say that sometimes you need to rehash the same story and same feelings over and over again for a good long while in order to really process what has happened.  In Michigan, the Lord had every day for months to meet me and comfort me.  In Texas, every day during that first 12-18 months (when the grief of moving really sinks in) that I pretended to be fine was a day that the Lord didn't have opportunity to meet, comfort, and heal.  The ironic thing about it is, when you don't allow yourself to experience what you're really feeling, God often gets the blame for everything that's going on, that you're upset about... and pretending not to be upset about.