Fear, Forts, and Faith

It's Ash Wednesday and I have been doing a lot of pondering.  This isn't going to be your typical post, so if you're here for the shoes you might want to back away slowly (or run away quickly) because there will be no shoes.  It's not going to be completely depressing, though.  At least I hope.  OK, there are your disclaimers.  Now for the post.

I've been thinking about forts.  Yes, I said forts.  I always semi-joke about making forts in all kinds of places.  There was a room in the chapel at seminary that was used for storage that had all kinds of interesting nooks and crannies and I always said I was going to build a fort in there.  I could go in with a flashlight and my homework (and by "homework" I mean novels).  There is a storage room under the stairs in our new office and I would make a fort in there that would be a less depressing version of Harry Potter's room under the stairs (because mine would be voluntary).  You can probably see where I'm going with this.  I even think about building forts under my desks wherever I work.  A few pillows, some blankets, a stack of books, and some chocolate?  I'm good to go!

Like I said, I say this a lot, but only recently occurred to me why I might be so obsessed with forts.  As a kid I loved to smoosh myself into weird places.  I didn't make forts per se, but I like to climb into things.  My chest of drawers had a door that opened into a little cupboard and I loved to fold myself in there.  I think there might be a picture of that somewhere, but I don't know if that's fact or I just made that up.  I would also climb the shelves in my closet and lay in the cupboard space up above (Mom if you didn't know this already, please don't ground me!).  We had a couch that was fairly high off the floor and it was the perfect place to go...and, um, hide food...sorry again, Mom! It's just that it had a slat that made the perfect shelf.  I also loved to climb into the space between the wall and the wood stove to eat my breakfast.  Yeah, I totally burned my arm one day doing that.  Aaaaaand...once again, so very sorry, Mom.  So obviously I come by this trait naturally and from a young age.

Those are the roots of my fort fetish, I think, but now that I'm an adult it also stems from something else:  Fear.  The hubby and I respond to fear VERY differently.  A fearful or stressful situation sends him straight into thinking mode.  He becomes The Man With A Plan.  Actually, he usually comes up with about 4 layers of backup plans in addition to the original plan.  He's very handy to have around.  I am much less helpful.  I react to stress and fear by sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively, wanting to curl into the fetal position.  This is where the fort comes in.  Sometimes I fantasize about hiding under my desk when I'm stressed.  I just want to hide from the world.  *TRIGGER WARNING*  I'm not suicidal, but I sometimes fantasize about what I can take so I can just sleep for a month.  No, I'm not actually going to take a handful of anything, I promise, it's just that I really want to curl up in my fort and sleep until the crappy stuff is over.  In my small defense, I do think during this time as well, but coming up with a million plans isn't my first response.  I don't look fear in the face and think, "yes!  Challenge!"  I eventually come up with responses and solutions, but I'm kind of pathetic for awhile.

I've been thinking about all of this because things have been really stressful for a really long time.  I've talked about some of it here, but basically the hubby and I have had one strange/crappy/emotional/stressful/crazy thing after another happen since we got married.  I keep thinking we're coming out the other side and then something else happens.  It's no wonder I am fearful and thinking longingly of forts.  Because I'm tired, y'all.  I'm tired of the stress and the headaches (again, both literal and figurative), I'm tired of those tiny moments of hope being almost immediately overshadowed by some new, huge problem.  Every. Single. Time.  So I tend to want to hide in a snuggly fort with books and chocolate.  I know I can't, that it wouldn't solve anything.

I also feel increasingly isolated.  I curl in on myself in my fear fort and don't engage with my friends like I should.  Eventually friends find this annoying and start to drift away.  I can't blame them, I wouldn't really want to be friends with me right now, either.  My isolation is self-inflicted and self-fulfilling.  I know I would feel better about the fear and the stress if I would reach out more, but I don't because I don't want to be that whiny friend who does nothing but complain about the strange/crappy/emotional/stressful/crazy things that keep happening.

So there's the fear and the forts, now for the faith.  Like I said at the beginning, today is Ash Wednesday.  I was really hoping to go to church for imposition of ashes, because as maudlin as it sounds, this is one of the days I always try to attend.  Not because I enjoy being reminded that I'm dust and I will some day return to dust, but because I appreciate that I come from a tradition that sees God in all things, not just the big, splashy holidays like Christmas and Easter (no offense to either, I love both holidays, but we can't have the Easter without Good Friday, and Ash Wednesday reminds us of the brokenness of the world, and why we need the promises of the resurrection).  Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the season of Lent, when we journey with Christ to Jerusalem and the cross.  It is a season of reflection, and it is a season when many people either give some something up or take something on as a spiritual discipline.  I wrote on Facebook the other day that there are a million things I could or should give up, and another million things that I could or should take on, but with the craziness and stress of my life right now I feel like the most I could achieve would be showering everyday.  And that's a big maybe.

I'm thinking that this year I might embrace my forts.  Not in a literal sense.  I'm not going to crawl under my desk and sleep until Easter.  Although that kind of sounds AWESOME.  Instead I will do my best.  I will try to face my fears, try not to hid in my personal forts, but also try to remember what my faith teaches me: that no matter where I am, what's going on, how imperfect I am, God is there with me.  God is with me in the fear.  God is with me in the fort (I'd even share my chocolate).  I've been trying to make some changes in my life anyway to improve my health, so that will be part of my Lenten discipline, but mostly what I'm going to do is try to remember God's love and God's promises.

If you're so inclined, I would welcome your prayers during the season of Lent.  I will pray for you, too, that you feel God's presence in your life and that you can know God's love for you.  I will also let you share my fort if you want.  But you might need to bring extra chocolate.