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Day 8

Everything I do, I do for a reason.

Right now I am 1 minute and 5 seconds into Half Nelson. I paused it because I just got to thinking. I do things because they have to have a reason. I can't just be. I can't live in the being.

Half Nelson is a movie about addiction, which is one of my fields. So I'm watching the movie not for enjoyment but because I am educating myself on popular culture's take on addiction.

Now, I don't just work all of the time. I take times to play. But playing is deliberate too. I am playing. Not off to enjoy myself and live willy-nilly. But because I must rest and Sabbath and do that kind of thing.

If I'm not taking care of a responsibility then I am resting. It's like I can't stand just having fun--I constantly have to be productive.

Even as I am watching Half Nelson one of the reasons is so I can lift weights. No, it's not enough that I am watching a movie for a reason (instead of silly pleasure) but I'm doing it also so I can justify working out.

What is wrong with me?!

I think I am in some sort of existential crisis. Maybe as I am nearing graduation and trying to piece together my post-grad living (i.e., income) I am freaking out. I may not have experienced this after college because I was sooooo freaked out that I couldn't even experience being freaked out. I just ran home, declared myself lost, then tried to avoid reality for as long as I could (or basically 2.5 years until I entered grad school).

It just seems like every decision I make is so powerful. I have to read for class so I can pass the class and graduate. I have to read personally so I can either get closer to Jesus, instruct others on getting closer to Jesus, or because Jesus told me to. I have to read personally for my profession so that I can talk about dating and sexuality and anything else that I consider a hobby but is really something I want to be an expert in so I've set the bar and the expectations for myself so high that my neck is breaking from trying to look up to the stupid skinny piece of wood looming in the air above my head. I have to work so I can survive a bit. I have to pay my bills so I don't get evicted. I have to work out so my clothes fit. I have to eat so I don't starve or get delirious. I have to, I have to, I have to....

I am so overwhelmed.

There's much in my life that I enjoy. I enjoy reading and Jesus and eating and exercising and talking and praying and working and whatever. But where has the joy part of enjoy gone? I think I am feeling very alone. Partly because all of these decisions are all mine alone. I'm the one who has to do them, no one else can do them for me. And my friends are very good partners with me. So is God. But somehow I've put this veil on and gotten into a position where it's just me against the world.

Something's got to change. But what? But how?

Doing more clearly won't help. Though neither will doing less.

I guess it comes down to the doing--how I do it. Can I do by being?

A wise woman once spoke words over me. For a long time (even still until tonight) I thought they were, "Doing comes from being." But I was wrong. I just looked it up. Courtney Bacon said to me on January 23, 2009 (I wrote it in my vocational discernment journal) that from Psalm 46: "Being is becoming." 46:10: "Be still and know that I am God."

Maybe my "because"es need to change. I am doing such-and-such because... Maybe it's all because of God? Maybe because He loves me? I read because He gave me eyes to see, a mind to comprehend, and a passion to know (though lately Elijah has been making me see "knowing" in quite a different way). I eat because food tastes good and is nourishing. I exercise because I cherish the temple that God has given me. I teach because it is a gift of mine.

I have placed so much pressure on myself. It's as if I think that I am the one who causes the plants to grow. Wrong. I plant the seeds, water the ground, till the field, put fertilizer on the soil. But it is through God's miracle that growth happens.

And what if nothing grows? I cannot be homeless or destitute. Too many people love me. I love myself too much.

I've been taking all of this too seriously. And too blindly--thinking I am all alone.

I am the one who can remove the veil. I can be, and be loved.

But LORD, please help me.

Day 7

Now I'm just blogging out of obligation. I said I'd blog every day (clearly a loose term) this year so that I could write more, but it has not be that successful.

Although ironically, I just finished writing my first paper of this quarter and talked about just that. That we need to accept our failures and talk about them. For most of my life I have tried to minimize my failures by either pretending they did not exist ("To what off-pitch are you referring? Certainly not my singing?), flowering over them ("Sorry I was a tad late. Happy birthday anyway. Yea, I know it was six months ago. That's why I said, happy half birthday."), or blaming someone else ("I was going to do the dishes but I was waiting on you to buy more dish soap.")

Clearly that's gotten me nowhere. And it completely disregards the idea of grace.

I sometimes wonder if we Christians ever truly accept the concept of grace at all.

A typical conversation can often look like this:
Mark: Hannah, did you do such-and-such?
Hannah: Oh, no Mark, I'm so sorry. I didn't.
Mark: Oh, that's ok. (Here's the grace part.)
Hannah: I'll try harder next time.

And that's the crux of it--trying harder. It makes it seem that we can actually achieve perfection if we just do more. Of course we cloak this in the idea of "becoming more like Christ" or "being imitators of Christ" or "being holy as I AM holy".

But frankly, we're basing our faith on works and not grace. Not that we shouldn't try or that we shouldn't seek to become holier, but we should sit in our failure some. We should recognize that we are failures and we're only human and we'll never BE Jesus. We'll never BE as holy as God.

We actually are failures. Any success we might experience is grace. It's embracing the truth: "I am a total failure. But despite that God loves me and He still uses me for His purposes."

But do not mistake me, I am not advocating absolute abandonment of our responsibilities and our promises. We must be honest about what we did not do that we said we would. But we can't actually take much credit for it when it does get done. Our choices are not isolated from the rest of the world--it's more complicated than that.

So the next tme you fail be honest about it, remember that you are imperfect and that's ok, and ask God to make a way for you to make it right.

And if all else fails, you might want to just write off this entire post. I feel a bit fuzzy in the noggin tonight.

Thank the Lord for His grace. I've failed and it's ok. I shall persevere not because I must prove myself to God or anyone else, but because God loves me despite my failures and therefore I find great joy in living because His love persists in all I do.

Day 6

I got two new stuffed animals over Christmas break. Both of them are related to my middle brother, Andrew. Andrew is the middle child and thinks that he gets jipped (how exactly is this word spelled?!). Therefore he came up with this brilliant idea: Middle Child Day. I have told him that this day is already called his birthday. He disagrees. Whatever. Apparently I have no worries as the oldest.

So anywho, I got some stuffed animals.

#1: My mom, Andrew and I were shopping at one of the Disney stores at Epcot when I saw the perfect new animal for my collection. When I was in college I came home during the summers to work and my brothers and I would watch Growing Pains. There's one episode where the youngest sister (several years apart from the three eldest) complains about going to bed earlier than the others. She thinks they're having fun while she has to sleep. In reality they're doing homework. But one night they prank her and pretend they do have fun, with the famous line, "Pony rides for everyone!"

Thus when Andrew graduated from high school and moved to college I joked that while he was gone we were going to turn his bedroom into a stable for the ponies. Thus the pony jokes became a staple in the Schwenker diet. One year for Christmas I got him a horse calendar and Satchel--his own stuffed animal horse. This past spring our other brother, Brad, had a friend who would take Satchel out of the house for an afternoon at a time. It drove Andrew crazy. He wrote up a Wanted Poster for her.

So when I got to Epcot and saw Bullseye, the beloved horse of Woody in Toy Story, I knew that he had to come home with me. He has bendable arms and legs and head. It's called "Articulated Bullseye". And he's staring at me right now. Would it be weird if I started posing him on my bed? Ooh, it would be hilarious to do a photo shoot with him in different poses!

#2: For years I've been afraid of snakes and sharks. Snakes have often made my body react violently without even trying. Sharks are just ferocious. When I was little it would creep me out a bit to be in the swimming pool. I had this irrational fear that there was a trap door in the pool and a shark would be released at any moment.

Somehow I have begun to make peace with sharks and snakes. Last Christmas when we were at Disney World I went to the life-size plastic model of Bruce from Finding Nemo and took a picture with him. We have since become friends.

For Christmas I received a very large box and in this box was a very large, very soft, very gray and with very big teeth shark. Andrew refers to him as Brucey. Sadly, hehehe, I could not fit him into my suitcase and therefore he is guarding the guest bedroom at my parent's house in Ohio. He's in good company with Mr. Snuggles (a large, yellow, stuffed elephant) and Teddy Bear Roosevelt (a small, brown, stuffed bear).

In Pasadena I have Bullseye, Squirt (the offspring of Crush in Finding Nemo) and Chloe (or Chlo-bear; a pink bear my mom sent me for Valentine's day a few years ago.) That being said, I shall cuddle with them right now.

Day 5

Jonathan's exact words were, "Why do you have this incessant addiction to hospitalization?"

This is a half-true statement.

False because addiction is a bit of an extreme word to use for having five illness in the last five months. Also false because hospitalization is inaccurate. Only two of these illnesses resulted in hospital visits (#1: the biopsy for a lump on my breast (though technically a breast center, not a hospital, but a rather large needle was used) and #2: an actual hospital).

True because I went to an actual hospital today. I got there in an actual ambulance with actual firemen (they were all male, I'm not being gender exclusive). I had an actual IV stuck in my arm.

But don't let these eloquent words fool you, it was not a glamorous experience.

Some of you may know that for the last few months I've been feeling a lot of fatigue. It has become frustrating because it keeps me from enjoying the outdoors and exercising as much. But more so it keeps me from seeing my friends as much because I'll have to cancel or leave a gathering early.

I had a huge debacle with health insurance last fall but am now (cross my fingers (which should be considered a faith statement since Jesus died on a cross)). So that's why I went to my doctor yesterday and told him about my fatigue. I also told him about some stomach pain that I've been having for several weeks now. It started out as what I thought was hunger pains but just kind of moved into pain.

We also talked about my lightheadedness that occured last Wednesday while walking on a treadmill for 20 minutes. And we talked about my headaches, my weight gain, my sensitivity to the cold, and more. This is when he told me to get my blood drawn to be tested. This is what led to this morning's episode.

So I went to Quest Diagnosis to have three vials of blood drawn for testing. As the tech prepared my arm and searched for a vein I told him, "I'm not very good at this." He asked if I wanted to lie down but I said, "No, I'm feeling like a fighter today." The next thing I remember is him asking if I was ok. In the 30 seconds meantime, I was unconscious and having a rather delightful dream.

Slightly groggy I watched as four firemen arrived and placed me on a stretcher. They asked me a few questions, took me down the elevator, and then placed me in the ambulance. They hooked me up to an IV, took my blood sugar level, then attached stickers that fed to a heart monitor. We then took off for Glendale Adventist Hospital.

When I arrived two nurses (who teased each other like sisters) worked on me, making sure I got some food. But before I ate they used the IV port to draw the blood that was the impetus for this epic day. They then did an EKG on me and I waited for some other test results to come back.

The nurse told me I had to give a urine sample so she sent me and my IV bag down the hall to the restroom. I'm not sure if you've ever had an IV in your arm (right at the inner bend of your elbow) but it's pretty fragile. Any movement, especially bending, causes the point of the needle to move--likely in a poking fashion. Attempting to go to the bathroom was a bit challenging. Just as I was about to sit on the toilet I noticed blood had started making its way out of my IV and up towards the bag. I became rather alarmed but since I'd made it that far in the urine sample process I decided to quickly finish and get to the nurse. When my flustered, bloodied-IV, self returned to her she shrugged and said, "That's gravity for you. Lay back down."

By 1pm my dear friend Jonathan Tarman had arrived and the doctor told me everything looked good, with three blood tests needing more time to process (thyroid, vitamin D, and something else I can't remember). They discharged me and I went home.

So here I am, sitting on my couch. I took a long nap this afternoon and have eaten some. It's fairly uneventful now, with the ambulance, hospital bed, and euphoric unconsciousness over. I'm left with a glass of water and some carrots.

I pray that soon the blood tests results come back so I can begin to feel better and put all of these "incessant addiction to the hospital" shenanigans behind me. My money's on the thyroid. If you'd like to get a pool together I'm sure we could racket a small amount. Though I don't have the energy to do it, so arrange it yourself.

Oddly enough, I'm in a very good mood (when I'm conscious) and at this exact moment munching on crisp, tasty carrots. I also watched one of my favorite shows, Jeopardy. Perhaps these small things are the opportunities in the crises (which is what today's Guidepost Daily Calendar told me to watch for). But now I'm just rambling and I'm impressed you've made it to the bottom. You must be a good friend and I am probably thinking about how grateful I am for you at this exact moment.

Until the next ambulance ride....or tomorrow....

Day 4

I don't know what got into me this evening. Perhaps it was the lovely company of three hilarious and kind men doting on me. Perhaps it was the chicken tortas. Perhaps it was the swing music in the car, almost dying in a car accident, or the mint lemonade. Perhaps it was the odd jokes of Dan Portnoy ("My mom was killed by someone from Texas." "This sunset is beautiful, almost as beautiful as you." "Wow, your eye lashes are really long. Why would you ruin that comment by telling me how hairy you are?")?

Whatever it was I just felt relaxed tonight. I wonder if I'm giving myself more grace. Since I haven't been feeling well I have been less harsh on myself when not doing "enough" work. This is a good way to live. Why am I not more graceful all of the time instead of just when I feel lethargic? I am going to start doing so right now.

Maybe grace is good. Maybe I'm not responsible for every little thing on this planet. Maybe I write too much on my To Do list and then get bogged down in the doing instead of the living.

I got home from Taco Tuesday this evening (also with Michael Moore and Eric Mulligan) and have found myself with free time. I took a shower and am now going to watch the last episode of the first season of the Road to Avonlea, which I love. I've got two TimTam's left (hehehe, I bet if Dianne is reading this she is grinning), a bowl full of fresh strawberries, a glass of apple juice, and a blanket. I'll do some grading and hopefully print my Christmas/New Year's/what the heck it's better than never cards.

But it's all up to me. Nevermind that I have that super long To Do list I referred to and have just hidden it behind my desk. For now, life is simple and joyful. It's not ignorant bliss it's choosing to live a different way. So let me encourage you. Give yourself grace. Only put the most important items on your To Do list and leave no room for guilt if you can't seem to get an item checked off. God gave us the gift of work, not the burden of it. Go and live and rejoice :-)

Day 3

I missed writing and I have nothing interesting to say today. Frankly, I'm just tired. And this morning I learned that one of the leaders on Fuller's campus, Ruth Vuong, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly yesterday. All of this combines to make a rather dull blog posting. Since I am writing this solely for myself there is no need to trouble with an apology. I shall simply read my Bible (Acts 20 for tonight), charge my cell phone, take out my contacts, and maybe read a chapter in The New York Regional Mormon's Singles Halloween Dance by Elna Baker (I believe the next chapter is something like 'Kiss Five: Steve"), before closing my eyes. If anyone is in fact reading this, pray for my health. And perhaps my sanity. I'm joking about the latter but serious about the first.

Good night.