Lost at Sea By Deanne Welsh – A Guest Blog

I met Deanne Welsh many years ago when I worked on a missionary ship that sold literature to the developing world. It’s not surprising that both of us came off the ship with a deep love for books. She’s an excellent writer and reads my blog faithfully, encouraging me to keep pressing into the journey of change and transition … something she knows a lot about. She grew up traveling from port to port … Thanks Deanne, for sharing your journey.

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“Where are you from?”

The question shivers down my spine like ice. I grimace to myself while responding with a smile, “I’m from Canada.” Sometimes I say, “I’m from Germany” or “I live in America.”  Other times, “I’m a missionary kid so I’m a little confused.”

When I am honest, “I am from the sea.”

It began when I was twelve:

 I do not want to live on the sea. My family and I are driving away from my home, school and friends of the last four and a half years in Mosbach Germany. I try to remember the last time I lived on the sea, but the memories of those seven years run together like watercolors. Only a handful of them have distinct shapes, their edges jutting out of the sea of color.

Until that moment my identity was defined by my friends, place, school, activities and home. Like a watercolor shape of white created by filling in the color around it, I knew myself based on the familiar people and places around me. When my family returned to the sea, the color left. Who am I?

The years living and sailing aboard the Logos II, a missionary vessel filled with volunteers (which is where I met Tina), drew me inward. I questioned, read, reflected, cried, buried my anger and tried to make sense of it. I felt adrift and unconnected: lost at sea.

Pain and loss can scrape the depths of our soul, but they do not have to define us.

For years I tried to circumvent my grief, cutting it short and stifling it as best I could. I was afraid to grieve. What if I get stuck in the pain? When I could no longer hide my anger and sadness, I learned the only way to healing is through the pain. I allowed myself to grieve. Thanks to the help of family, friends, two counselors and time, pain no longer defines my memory of the past.

As I acknowledged, grieved and let go of my losses, I remembered the moments of beauty and joy: dolphins and flying fish leaping through simmering sunlight; kind and generous people; laughing with friends; feeling like an explorer each time the ship sailed into a new port.

The move that took the people and places I cared for gave me unexpected gifts.

• Deep and loving relationships with my siblings and parents. The move and constant changes drew us together.
• A love of language and of capturing the terrain and complexity of human life. Books became my comfort, putting into words the things I felt but struggled to articulate.
• Appreciation and knowledge of who I am and what’s important to me. I would not have reflected as deeply if I had been surrounded by the familiar.
• Empathy for those experiencing loss and change. The circumstances may vary but I love to listen and speak soft words of encouragement.

The gifts remained invisible until I grieved the losses.

What gifts have you found along the terrain of your life?

Deanne Welsh can be found at www.eclecticwaters.com. She writes for Turning Points magazine and loves words, stories, salsa dancing, techno music and deep conversations.

Her upcoming e-book, Living with Dragons: how to protect your inner world, delves further into the subject of loss, the lies we believe, and how to find healing. You can sign up to receive it FREE by clicking here. (create link: http://www.eclecticwaters.com/join-now/).