[krahy-sis] noun, plural cri·ses [-seez], adjective.
1. a stage in a sequence of events at which the trend of all future events, especially
for better or for worse, is determined; turning point.
2. a dramatic emotional or circumstantial upheaval in a person’s life.
3. Medicine/Medical .
a. the point in the course of a serious disease at which a decisive change
occurs, leading either to recovery or to death.
b. the change itself.
4. the point in a play or story at which hostile elements are most tensely
opposed to each other.*
* from dictionary.com.
I looked up the definition for “crisis” in dictionary.com and chronologically shifted the meaning around, dissected the interpretation and garnered my own interpretation. Here we go.
A dramatic emotional or circumstantial upheaval in a person’s life.
Once my son’s best friend died, a volcano erupted inside me. I bawled. I screamed. My words out shot my thoughts. Release was the due course. Emotions had many times edged out rational motions. For me the shock and denial stage meshed with the reality and the “being in the raw” stage. In other words, I had to work really hard to put on a sane front!
A condition of instability or danger, as in social, economic, political, or international affairs, leading to a decisive change.
Where to go? Where to live? What attorneys to use…or not use. Clearing out the house, especially my now ex-husband’s belongings was a welcome reprise. Being proactive gave me a sense of control. When life gets out of control, I say, do something that gives you a sense of control—no matter how simple—even if means just cleaning out a drawer!
A stage in a sequence of events at which the trend of all future events, especially for better or for worse, is determined; turning point.
Although this is the first meaning under the word “crisis” in dictionary.com, I use it as my final meaning, because I think this is where the metamorphosis happens. Living through crisis has changed my life—forever. I feel like Dorothy in Oz, but Oz—this new, overwhelming, scary place remains—forever. Blindsided, I couldn’t even pack an overnight bag, never mind decide on the destination.
And this is where faith comes in big time. Somehow, behind the emotions, the grief, the upset, the fear and rage, I prayed that the faith that had sustained me for so many years prior would not vanish. That it would not abandon me or betray me too. And, to me, if my faith triumphed, I knew that this turning point would be for better not worse. At the beginning, my inner child threw a tantrum and beseeched God to save my house, my finances, and my wounded and damaged family. Things did not change, certainly not immediately. Nevertheless, faith carried me—more like clobbered me to my knees to the ground. I prayed nearly 24/7. I prayed for peace. For understanding. Mostly I prayed for miracles.
Two years later, the lows are, ouch, low, but tolerable. Life’s insurmountable boulders have become speed bumps. The verdict is in. My turning point is for the better. Instead of obsessing on the pain, I cannot wait to jumpstart the day, new adventure, something interesting at every bend, crossing. I am still in Oz. I have a roadmap now. It does not always take me where I think I ought to go; but it always dumps me where I need to be. Luckily, along with my faith, no matter where I do land, the yellow brick road is level and smooth and provides the support I need. That’s a good place to park myself.
Stay tuned!…until next time…faith forward!