White Scarf Day

The fact that I'm wearing a particular white scarf today isn't going to mean much to most of you.

Some of you will know that this scarf has a variety of meanings and reminders for me.

Meanings like:

• I'm praying
• I'm exhausted and in need of covering and shielding
• Surrender (or just plain "giving up" depending on your perspective)

I'm having a white scarf sort of day. For all of those reasons.

I'm on my third night of minimal sleep. Last night the frustrations from day had apparently not dissipated before I slept, and I either dreamt about them, or woke to them all through the night.

I'm definitely running on a low tolerance level for stupidity. Which is not a good thing when you consider what I'm about to tell you next!

My ability to filter my thoughts for appropriate content before they come right on out of my mouth in audible form is low. Which I've demonstrated by having at least one conversation (and probably more) where, as I heard the words come out of my mouth, my brain then chimed in with "I can't believe you just said that, and why are you still talking??!!" It chimed in too late... I definitely made comments that I normally would not have made out loud - at least not to that particular person!

My dad and I had a conversation last night about horizontal spaces in people's lives. He defined horizontal spaces quite literally - any space that is horizontal and used for storage etc. (tables, desks, etc.) and commented that if the horizontal spaces that belong to a person were in disarray, it was probably a good indicator of how their day, week, month, or year was going. (He was making the comment because he's having some horizontal space issues this week!) I just chuckled as I imagined the horizontal space issues that would be awaiting me when I returned to my desk at the office this morning. And, they've multiplied. In fact, I'm fairly certain that paper has become sentient and discovered a way to procreate/recreate itself on my desk. There is crap everywhere awaiting my attention.

At least I've got someone to cover my lunch hour today, so I'll get at least a bit of a break from the madness. A few minutes to play a game online, or read the book I brought with me.

Then a couple quick errands on the way home, cooking dinner, and I'm settling in for a quiet evening. Although there remains much packing and sorting to be done in our house, I may ignore it for one more evening. I need to allow myself some down time, I think. I also need to make the yoga workout that I was just to exhausted to force myself to do last night a priority tonight. And maybe, just maybe, I'll do some sorting while I watch a movie or a dvd. It's a possibility, but I think I'm also needing to give myself permission for that not to happen as well. It feels like pressure, since most of what is left to be sorted is mine to deal with, and I'm aware that I may not be in town this weekend to tackle it in big or small chunks (I also need to make a fairly important decision surrounding that tonight). I feel guilty, because my roommate has to also live with the remaining disorder. But at the same time, I'm needing to recognize that the last month and a half has taxed my energy limits and that if I don't create time and space to rest, I'll be in even bigger trouble in the days and weeks to come.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

For those who wanted a bit more...

My former roommate and her new husband just posted this video of clips from their wedding ceremony on July 4th, and, since a few of you either know J., or have asked about the wedding, I thought I'd share it here.

My favorite part of their ceremony was the emotion with which R's brother sang "All the Way My Savior Leads Me" as a prayer and blessing over J and R while they shared communion together - one of their first acts as a married couple.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Second Half

The second half of my day was decidedly less than productive.

They created a new system for taking messages at our office related to a new product that was launched yesterday. I spent most of my afternoon following this ridiculous procedure for answering a call, taking a message, and then ensuring that the message got to the appropriate person. This, while trying to juggle the responsibilities of my other position.

It was the sort of day I was expecting yesterday, and it was gross.

Thankfully the grocery trip was relatively painless, and only minorly soul-sucking. A good list and staying on task helps.

I got home from that, ate dinner, took a quick shower, and now I'm crashed out in bed with a movie playing in the background while I catch up on a few emails, and basically do as much nothing as possible. I need to rest and (hopefully) sleep tonight. Especially since tomorrow is likely to be filled with the same sorts of challenges at work that today was.

Productive?

I feel like it's been an oddly productive morning thus far, on both a work front, and a "things I personally need to do" front.

I talked with my car insurance company to get an answer to a question I had.

I scheduled a driving lesson - long story, but my license is coming up for renewal, and I'm also well overdue to take the advanced road test that is part of Alberta's Graduated Driver's Licensing system. (I think I was eligible to take the test about three years ago!) Anyway, because it's been over five years since I last did a driving road test, and since this one covers different things, I thought I'd book a bit of a refresher lesson to try to ensure I can pass this test in one attempt and only have to pay for it once.

I knocked several items off of my work "to do" list.

I bought groceries (unexpectedly) for the office.

I spoke briefly with the rep for our filing system when she dropped off some samples I'd asked for. And I supervised the delivery of several new furniture pieces in the office as well.

I talked with my mechanic about George. He informed me what a particular problem that I'd noticed was caused by. I'm really thankful for our mechanic, who's honest and never tries to cheat me. I asked if I needed to have this problem repaired, and he told me that George is absolutely safe to drive without repairing the problem, that it was my preference. Since I'm trying not to sink huge amounts of money into my rather old vehicle, I opted to leave it unrepaired for the moment. So, George just had an oil change, and I'll pick him up after work tonight.

I find myself somewhat surprised at what's been accomplished today. Especially since I slept very poorly again last night, and was most definitely dragging this morning.

I'm less than excited about the fact that there is a trip to the soul sucking mega grocery store in my future tonight, but I'll survive it, and then probably have to do another round of yoga to recover!

And I'm still in the mood to wear scarves (and pray). Yesterday's was sent to me by a friend, a gift from Morrocco. Today's is a gift from another friend, this time sent from Nepal.

More thoughts later I suppose...

Memories, Quotes, and an oddly poignant evening...

I had an experience tonight that reminded me just how many things can trigger memories. One moment I was standing at the sink, rinsing lettuce leaves for the taco salad I was preparing, and in the next I'd been transported backwards through time and was re-living a moment I'd nearly forgotten. It's a oddly powerful and poignant sort of thing to have that happen.

George is safely at the mechanic, and I even managed to get a full yoga workout in.

I went hunting tonight for a scrapbook like journal I created in the first few years of university. It's full of quotations and thoughts and comics that I'd collected. Favorite things that spoke in different ways to me, or that simply made me laugh. There were a few forgotten treasures in there.

At that time in my life, I was approximately right in the middle of the seven years I suffered from severe depression, before so very unexpectedly encountering God's healing. I was finding it hard to cling to faith, to believe in God, and strongly identified with any statements that made room for my doubts, my struggles, my questions, and my depression to co-exist with a relationship with God. I came upon a few of those quotes tonight as I flipped through that journal, and smiled as they again acted as salve to a tired soul.

The questions are different these days, but there are still questions. The doubts are different, and rarely reach the depths that depression drove them to, but there are sometimes still doubts and uncertainties. I know now, in a way that I didn't know then, that I will never be able to walk away from Jesus - that in Him has been the only joy and fulfillment I've ever really found. I'm learning daily about trust - and how trust mostly exists in the uncertainty. There's not much need to trust if I can know something for certain. But I still appreciate those philosophers, writers and thinkers who offer space for God and those questions and doubts to co-exist.

Quotes like these:

"When we get our spiritual house in order, we'll be dead. This goes on. You arrive at enough certainty to be able to make your way, but it is making it in darkness. Don't expect faith to clear things up for you. It is trust, not certainty." (Flannery O'Connor)

"It is not as a child that I believe and confess Jesus Christ. My hosanna is born of a furnace of doubt." (Fyodor Dostoevsky)

"Without somehow destroying me in the process, how could God reveal himself in a way that would leave no room for doubt? If there were no room for doubt, there would be no room for me." (Frederick Buechner)

I went hunting for that journal, not because of treasures like these that it contained, but because it contained a typed out set of lyrics to the song I mentioned yesterday. "Because You Are" by Everybody Duck.

The partial lyrics I'd put in the journal read as follows:

I can't feel You like others around me
I don't feel like kneeling or closing my eyes
Is there something wrong with my heart that I can't see?
Or do You feel love still when nobody cries?

'Cause I know in my heart how bad I want to touch You
You must sense this love my soul barely contains
No lack of desire in this desert to worship
I keep singing skyward it just never rains

So I'll praise You if I never feel You
And I'll love You cause I know You're there
And if You should choose I'm sure one day I'll feel it
But feeling good's never the reason I cared.

It's funny to me to remember, years later, the space I was existing in when those lyrics first hit a chord. At the time I was just beginning to encounter God in a more "spirit-filled" way. Actually, it would probably be more accurate to say that I was part of a community that encountered God in that way, and that I was desperately hungry to have those sort of personal encounters and relationship with Jesus that they demonstrated for myself, but was equally convinced that it would perhaps never happen for me. Thus the power of lyrics that began, "I can't feel you like others around me."

Five or six years later, after many crazy encounters with Jesus, I've walked for the last year and a half through some very challenging circumstances. I'm more convinced than ever that Jesus speaks and guides and loves. But I'm also in a place of exhaustion, in need of rest and healing and recovery, and, when I came upon this song again earlier this week, I was struck deeply by the lines I quoted yesterday, "No lack of desire in this desert to worship. I keep singing skyward, it just never rains."

So I worship anyway. Even in those moments when it feels like rote memorization. Like a dead practice, instead of a living joy. Because I've learned, too, that eventually the rains always come. I spent the afternoon looking out my office window at the downpour we were having, remembering the many complaints the last years of drought, and praying that in ways that are internal, that impact my heart, the rains will also come, and bring cleansing, healing, refreshment, restoration, and new growth and life.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Still unpacking...

A post with content related to something other than the fact that I moved two weeks ago is coming. I promise.

In the meantime, my roommate and I began the task of tackling the arranging of furniture in our living room tonight. I have quite a few piles of things to sort through still. And a large stack of items to be taken to a thrift shop. And a microwave to be returned to a friend who loaned it to me a couple years back, when our first house didn't have a microwave.

I'm off to unpack the last bookshelf, and perhaps sort through a bit of other stuff.

I'm waiting for my dad to call, as George needs yet another visit to the mechanic (though I think just for an oil change this time) and I'm borrowing a vehicle from my parents to drive tomorrow while George is getting checked out. Dad will meet me at the mechanic, I'll take him home, and then head back to my house with one of their vehicles.

And, I'm hoping to do a bit of yoga or stretching, or some sort of exercise tonight - hoping that doing that will help me sleep a bit better tonight.

With that, I'm off to return to the unpacking process... (I'll be so glad when that is finally under control...)

Henri Again...

A few more thoughts from Henri Nouwen... the first one in particular challenged me, since I was definitely raised in the church culture that put way more emphasis on giving than stopping to admit a need to receive, and it's something that I still struggle with often.

A Time to Receive and a Time to Give

It is important to know when we can give attention and when we need attention. Often we are inclined to give, give, and give without ever asking anything in return. We may think that this is a sign of generosity or even heroism. But it might be little else than a proud attitude that says: "I don't need help from others. I only want to give." When we keep giving without receiving we burn out quickly. Only when we pay careful attention to our own physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual needs can we be, and remain, joyful givers.

There is a time to give and a time to receive. We need equal time for both if we want to live healthy lives.

Becoming Food For the World

When Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, he summarized in these gestures his own life. Jesus is chosen from all eternity, blessed at his baptism in the Jordan River, broken on the cross, and given as bread to the world. Being chosen, blessed, broken, and given is the sacred journey of the Son of God, Jesus the Christ.

When we take bread, bless it, break it, and give it with the words "This is the Body of Christ," we express our commitment to make our lives conform to the life of Christ. We too want to live as people chosen, blessed, and broken, and thus become food for the world.

Premonition?

I slept more poorly last night than I have in a very long time.

I'm sure it was a combination of a number of factors.

Heat - it was very hot and stuffy in my bedroom last night, and my window doesn't particularly open, so there wasn't a good way to combat that heat.

Viewing - I watched a television show online last night that looked interesting. Half-way through I began to get that "this is not an okay thing for me to be taking in" feeling that I've become familiar with. I talked myself out of listening, because the show had caught my attention. In retrospect, it was rather dark, and messing with stuff I know better than to allow myself to absorb.

Others - I am as always, innately connected to some others in my life, and there were a few who were engaged in things last night that generally stir things up.

Work - we are launching a new product today, and are definitely not fully ready for this launch. It's been rushed, and everyone seems to know that except for a few managers who've pushed the launch. As tensions in the department handling the launch were already running high, with people on the verge of resigning their positions, it's likely to be an interesting week around here.

I dressed more cautiously than usual this morning. Picking comfort items and specific things I wear when I'm feeling on edge. When I have that sense that a day is going to hold challenges.

It's a weird balance, that "premonition" I sometimes get. If I pull too strongly into it, it's easy for the day to be a disaster just because I'm expecting disaster. If I ignore it entirely, I am blindsided by the numerous "disasters" that arise.

So I dressed cautiously today, wearing items that are reminders of prayer, and the nearness of Jesus. A bracelet made of cream colored resin roses. Another bracelet with a variety of saints on it, a gift from a dear friend. A scarf (because they bring warmth, and have been something I've prayed deeply with) - in this case a gift mailed to me recently by another friend. I have on (as I do nearly every day) the necklace with a St. Clare medal on it. A reminder of a dream I had a while back - a deep encounter with Jesus. I need that particular reminder quite a lot today.

Because you are

I'm tired, slightly sunburnt, have a huge bruise and lump on my right leg from building a bookcase yesterday, and am feeling like I don't have very much to say at the moment.

There is still so much going on in my heart, but I'm having a bit of a hard time putting words to it these days.

I went to the zoo with a friend this morning. That was fun.

Then I mostly rested for the remainder of the day, and I'm headed to bed very shortly.

I'm thinking a lot about this song lately. "Is there something wrong with my heart that I can't see?... I'll praise you, if I never feel you, and I'll love you, cause I know you're there. And if you should choose I'm sure one day I'll feel it. But feeling good's never the reason I cared. Father I praise you because you are. Jesus I love you because you are. Spirit, I worship you because you are...."

The lyrics of the song are beautiful.

I'm particularly identifying with this line right now, "No lack of desire in this desert to worship. I keep singing skyward, it just never rains."

(Have I mentioned recently that I'm grateful for all of the rain we've been having in the last few weeks, even if I'm not feeling that same rain and refreshing within my soul? The tangible reminder of it in the physical realm is giving me hope.)

I worship you because you are.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

The sword of truth...

I read the following line in Anne Lamott's "Bird by Bird" the other night, and was deeply struck by it, both as a form of self-examination, and as a bit of a prayer for some I know and care about.

"You don't always have to chop with the sword of truth. You can point with it, too." (Bird by Bird, pg. 156)

More thoughts coming later. I'm off to the zoo with a friend shortly.

And on into evening...

I was out the door around 9:30 this morning, heading first for the requested Starbucks stop, and then to Mom and Dad's. I got to Ikea just before it opened, managed to find someone to help me load the box I needed onto my cart, and then into Dad's truck, and then I came home.

When I got here, I opened the box still in the truck, and carried in the pieces one at a time.

I assembled the bookshelf with a bit of help from L. (and only a few mishaps - including one large lump and growing ugly bruise necessitating ice on my right calf) and headed back to mom and dad's to return the truck.

The look of surprise on dad's face when he heard that I'd already managed to successfully assemble the bookshelf was great fun. Especially since I was already feeling fairly proud of myself for managing to do this mostly on my own.

Then I spent the afternoon rearranging and unpacking.

Prayerfully sorting through altar stones and memories. Tucking a few things away in storage, and finding others new homes. The whole time our smoke detector insisted on beeping every few minutes. It would seem the battery in it was dieing, but there has been a theme of alarms and sirens connected to many of the memories those altar stones mark, and to be trying to pray and listen and unpack and arrange them, with the constant background noise of the alarm was somewhat shaking, and oddly ironic.

I think I'll tackle what's left over the next few days. Our new house has decidedly less storage than the old place, and I'm not quite certain what to do with a couple of boxes of scrapbooking and craft supplies that still remain. Our living room also remains in disarray, though I think we'll be able to bring order to it fairly quickly in the next few days.

And with that, I'm off to make some dinner for L and I, and then we're heading to church.

I have a smile list brewing in my head... I'm needing to take some time to remember the things that make me smile. This last month and a half have been beautiful and full and rich and completely excruciating, and I'm feeling strongly the exhaustion and need to refocus and rest. So, a smile list will be appearing here sometime soon... maybe even later tonight!

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Starbucks, special request

I had to chuckle a few minutes ago.

I'm borrowing my dad's truck this morning for the planned Ikea trip and had told him I'd be at their house to pick it up sometime between 9 and 9:30. My phone rang at 10 to 9 this morning. It was my dad.

He wanted me to do him a favor.

Could I please stop at Starbucks on my way to their house and pick him up a venti mocha frappucino with no whipped cream?

My dad has entered the world of Starbucks!

Too funny! So, I'll stop and get his frappucino, and I'll probably get a iced passion tea lemonade for myself, and I'll head on into the day!

Friday Evening

Here's the plan.

In a little while, L. will be home.

We're headed out to a Stampede BBQ supper that's being put on by the church I grew up attending. I know, I know, I generally avoid anything connected with Stampede like the plague (unless of course you have out of town visitors, in which case a visit becomes obligatory), but I've got to admit that the idea of free hamburgers and various potluck salads and desserts is really appealing to me at the end of a rather long week. I'd love a good hamburger, and I definitely love the idea of not having to cook.

Then home.

It's a priority tonight that I get a full workout in. I've been trying to do some yoga workouts lately, to help improve my health, and some muscle problems I struggle with. The aim is to do one of the 20 minute dvd's at least 4 or 5 times a week. The last two nights have been quite interrupted (I had to stop in the middle last night, and never managed to get back to it to finish), and tonight I need to make getting all the way through one a priority.

After that, a long shower, and then I'm going to treat myself to some reading I think. I'm just going to relax.

Tomorrow promises to be full, with errands and sorting and unpacking. With prayerfully revisiting memories as I unpack and re-display the various "altar stones" I've collected over the years.

So tonight, tonight I'm going to try to rest a little.

(of course, my plans seem to change regularly these days, so who knows what will ultimately end up happening!)

Friday, July 10, 2009

Quote of the Day

From the calendar at that sits on my desk...

"You have no time to occupy your thoughts with complacency or consideration of what others will think. Your business is simply, 'What will my Father in heaven think?'" (Saint Katharine Drexel)

Henri on Wounds

two more challenging thoughts on woundedness from Henri Nouwen...

Tending Our Own Wounds First

Our own experience with loneliness, depression, and fear can become a gift for others, especially when we have received good care. As long as our wounds are open and bleeding, we scare others away. But after someone has carefully tended to our wounds, they no longer frighten us or others.

When we experience the healing presence of another person, we can discover our own gifts of healing. Then our wounds allow us to enter into a deep solidarity with our wounded brothers and sisters.

Listening With Our Wounds

To enter into solidarity with a suffering person does not mean that we have to talk with that person about our own suffering. Speaking about our own pain is seldom helpful for someone who is in pain. A wounded healer is someone who can listen to a person in pain without having to speak about his or her own wounds. When we have lived through a painful depression, we can listen with great attentiveness and love to a depressed friend without mentioning our experience. Mostly it is better not to direct a suffering person's attention to ourselves. We have to trust that our own bandaged wounds will allow us to listen to others with our whole beings. That is healing.

All over the place...

My thoughts are (as usual perhaps?) all over the place this morning.

I keep hearing people complain about the weather we've been having. It's rained a lot this week. Or been sunny for part of the day and then settled into rain showers. I've been loving it. I could quite happily have this weather most of the time year round. Maybe I've just been needing the grayer skies, and the feeling of washing that comes with all of this rain... I don't know... but it's felt needed and good... soothing to a dry and weary soul these days...

I keep getting odd cuts in the palm of my right hand. I've had three or four of them this week, and they're a bit painful. Not deep enough to even bleed, just sort of breaks in the surface of the skin, bad enough to sting deeply, and pull when I move my hand.

I'm likely spending a chunk of today helping with some office moves at our company. Because, you know, I haven't done enough moving the last few weeks!

I have ambitious plans to be far more settled in our place by the end of the weekend. Plans that start with borrowing my dad's truck tomorrow, a trip to Ikea, and another possible trip to the dump. Probably also a trip to goodwill, and a trip to the recycling depot as well.

I managed to do two loads of laundry last night without the dryer in our apartment setting off our smoke detector. That was a welcome relief. I really do think that we have the most sensitive smoke detector on the planet.

I'm laughing at the truth of this cartoon at The Naked Pastor today... Wouldn't it be nice if more people told us these things at the outset?

I can't express how incredibly thankful I am that it's nearly the weekend. And that it's a weekend mostly without plans. No weddings. No moves. Just some cleaning and settling and probably some purging of belongings. A planned trip to the zoo with a friend. Plans to attend church. Maybe pancakes - it's been a while since I've had pancakes.

And much of the settling will need to be prayerfully done. Much of the unpacking that I have left are the deeply personal items. The reminders of times and places and peoples. Bits and pieces that have collected over the years. Altar stones really. So many circumstances have changed and shifted in the last year, and I am both dreading and looking forward to prayerfully arranging those memories around my space. To considering and reconsidering. To creating a space of order and peace and prayer around me again.

The kind of day...

I've been flipping back and forth for a while now, staring at a blank blogger screen and wondering what to write.

It was the kind of day where I (quite enjoyably) briefly bumped into a friend I hadn't seen since we graduated from high school eight years ago.

It was the kind of day where the last little coincidences that I wanted to encounter where the ones I came face to face with.

It was the kind of day where mid-way through an attempt at a yoga workout I was interrupted, and I never quite made it back to it.

It was the kind of day where there were moments when I felt totally helpless and incompetent at my company, small and petty even.

And the kind of day where there were moments when I knew that I could excel at, and maybe sometimes even love my job.

It was the kind of day where I listened to the audio here (and read the essay) and remembered how life-shaping the essay author's book was. And how that book was the background for a trip that in some ways still has much left unfinished, unsettled, and uncertain.

It was the kind of day where I traded emails with several different people.

The kind of day where I came home from work and did some organizing, sorting and cleaning.

And the kind of day where one memory was just too poignant, and (after a bit of discussion with a friend) I made the decision to tuck the physical reminder of it in a drawer for the time being.

It is the kind of day where I'm sitting in bed before 10 pm, with music softly playing.

Where I'll read a little, and pray a little, and then hopefully sleep.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Quote of the Day Brings Laughter

The daily quote on my calendar today made me chuckle.

"God always gives more than we ask." (Saint Marie-Victoire Couderc)

My immediate mental response was "No kidding."

Because sometimes God definitely gives what I wasn't even going to ask for.

And sometimes, his definition of "more" isn't quite what I had in mind.

For that matter, sometimes his definition of what I ask isn't quite what I had in mind.

I've glanced at the calendar off and on all day, and had to smile. Both at the reminder that God does indeed answer, and the chuckle that has come as I remember how rarely those were the answers I was in fact, looking for!

A few headlines...

More thoughts to come later today, but for now, these two headlines caught my attention this morning...

This story made me chuckle. I like a person who leverages what he knows and does well to get the sort of response and customer service he should have received in the first place.

This story just made me sad. I have an aunt who worked for years in a methadone clinic. And I'm sad that Calgary, which obviously badly needs this facility can't seem to reconcile it. And that the neighborhood is reacting so poorly. As one commenter on the article put it, "Don’t they say that the measure of a society is how the treat those members that are the least fortunate? The users of this clinic need the help that was going to be offered there, but I guess that won’t happen now."

Still...

I am trying to be still.

But my heart is (still) moving in many directions.

I'm thinking about a family whose blog I read, having found it via the blog of a friend. Both mother and son suffer or suffered from cancer. The mother lost that battle tonight. The son fights on. My heart goes out to them, and I find myself praying.

I'm still thinking about so many of the things I mentioned this morning.

I'm sitting quietly.

I unpacked a little more tonight. The things left to unpack are mostly the ones that are deeply ingrained with memories. Beautiful memories, but some that just at present feel bittersweet. It's easier to avoid the pain when it's packed away in boxes where I don't see it. Where it doesn't surround me.

I hung a plaque over my bed tonight. It's hung near my bed for years. A list of promises of Jesus that someone did by hand in calligraphy and gave to my family when I was a child. Somewhere along the way, I inherited it. And now, no matter where I live, it hangs near my bed as a reminder and a comfort. I think the words are somehow appropriate tonight, to close this post, and move my heart again towards prayer.

I will never leave you
I will heal all your diseases
I will save you
I will not condemn you
I will help you
I will answer you
I will love you
I will guide you
I will teach you
I will forgive you
I will bless you
I will lead you
I will protect you
I will strengthen you
I will give you joy
I will give you peace
I will satisfy you
I will not leave you comfortless
I will supply all your needs
I will prepare a home in heaven
I will refresh you
I will empower you
I will be yoked with you
I will share your burdens
I will give you eternal life
- signed, Jesus Christ

May my still wandering heart be still in the midst of those promises, and may the same be true for each of those who are so deeply on my heart tonight.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Wounded Healer

Henri Nouwen, as usual, continues to challenge me...

The Wounded Healer

Nobody escapes being wounded. We all are wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not "How can we hide our wounds?" so we don't have to be embarrassed, but "How can we put our woundedness in the service of others?" When our wounds cease to be a source of shame, and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers.

Jesus is God's wounded healer: through his wounds we are healed. Jesus' suffering and death brought joy and life. His humiliation brought glory; his rejection brought a community of love. As followers of Jesus we can also allow our wounds to bring healing to others.

Where My Heart Is...

My heart feels scattered this morning, pulled in a variety of directions, prayers and patterns of thought...

I'm thinking about how much I identify with this cartoon at "The Naked Pastor."

I'm watching as a project I've been following from a distance gains momentum, and feeling the pull of that. Feeling the impact that it's having on my heart.

I'm feeling a deep sadness about a number of things.

And a deep frustration over some others.

I'm thinking about the "be relentless" prayer list that I composed at the beginning of this year, and negotiating/arguing just a little with God over one of the items. An item I'm tired of praying for, no longer believe is truly possible, and am feeling a bit like I just can't pray for anymore.

I'm feeling like the things I never wanted to change are shifting constantly, and the things in which I longed for that shifting simply will not move.

I'm thinking about a blog world aquaintance whose father just recently passed away. And the moving post she wrote here. And the ways it makes me reconsider some relationships of my own.

I'm thinking about 1:11 and 11:11, and how I keep catching those times on the clock, on a nearly daily basis these days. About how they touch a raw spot in my soul, and are inextricably tied in my heart to certain people and places, and stir prayers.

I'm thinking about a friend who is beginning the trip home today after some time away. Praying for safe travels, smooth connections, and the transition back into life at home.

I'm thinking again about idolatry. About the verse in Jeremiah that so struck me last fall. "Idol worship is a form of self-harm." A striking image for one who has dealt with those who have deliberately harmed themselves as a way of releasing pain. And asking questions again about what idols, what forms of self harm, need to be struck down within my own life.

And I'm thinking about venom, and bloodletting. Remembering vivid images that came in separate moments of prayer, months apart, driving my car to and from work. Praying for endings and cleansing and release.

My heart is scattered, and trying desperately to pray, to somehow find Jesus in the midst of all of this. I am thinking about so many things in my own life, and praying for so many of those whom I care for deeply. My heart hurts, but maybe that's okay?

A Good Thing

I was glad to read that the Calgary police will be implementing this sort of program to provide resources to those struggling with mental health issues.

A few years ago, a relative of mine benefited from encountering a police officer in a large American city with the training to recognize his mental illness, who diverted him to receive the appropriate attention rather than be lost in the justice system.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Fascinating Article

Pope Calls for "World Political Authority"

How Time Heals

This thought from Henri Nouwen played nicely into several other things I've been thinking about and listening to lately. It struck a chord deep within me, as I wonder about some things surrounding the idea of forgiveness and healing...

How Time Heals

"Time heals," people often say. This is not true when it means that we will eventually forget the wounds inflicted on us and be able to live on as if nothing happened. That is not really healing; it is simply ignoring reality. But when the expression "time heals" means that faithfulness in a difficult relationship can lead us to a deeper understanding of the ways we have hurt each other, then there is much truth in it. "Time heals" implies not passively waiting but actively working with our pain and trusting in the possibility of forgiveness and reconciliation.

On to Tuesday

Today will be a full day.

Work promises to be busy.

And then, tonight holds a trip to the soul-sucking grocery mega store. Because we badly need food and some other supplies.

We were there briefly last week. It was even worse than usual. Seems the store had decided to renovate, and move everything around. Things we'd finally learned the location of were now missing in action. It took even longer than usual.

Both of these facts mean that I'm not looking forward to a trip there tonight.

I also need to take the mounds of recycling (mostly cardboard left over from our move) to the recycling depot, and quite likely make a trip to the bank.

Then, I'm going home, doing a bit of yoga, and going to bed.

And that, my friends, is what Tuesday holds... here's hoping it goes at least kind of according to plan!

The Plan Changed)

The plan when I got home from work was to do some unpacking, cleaning, organizing and putting away while my dinner cooked in the oven.

It was blown out of the water within 15 minutes.

We seem to have the most sensitive smoke detector on the planet. Our dryer sets it off. And tonight, the oven set it off.

So, rather than have to fan the smoke detector every few minutes for the duration of my cooking, I loaded the food into a tupperware container, and headed for mom and dad's house. I borrowed mom's oven, and helped her mix up a batch of banana bread in the meantime.

Then, I came home, ate my dinner, and did some unpacking. I decided to allow myself to be okay with not making major progress tonight. I'll do a bit each night until it's done, and my bedroom is slowly coming together as well.

I followed the unpacking with a yoga video (something new I'm trying to help with the tight and sore muscles I seem to be continually developing from stress), some sit-ups and push-ups.

Then a nice shower.

And now I'm sitting propped on my new bed, planning to catch up on some reading, some emails, and maybe even some writing.

And go to bed early!

The plan changed, and it threw me into a bit of a panic, but it worked out alright in the end. I'm working on being flexible about things like this... On breathing, and letting the changes happen, without them stressing me out. In this case, I'm thankful that I could simply head for mom and dad's to finish cooking my supper, and, that even though things didn't happen in the order I would have preferred, they did work out relatively smoothly.

Monday, July 06, 2009

Tears of the Father

another challenging thought from Henri Nouwen...

The Tears of the Father

The father in the story of the prodigal son suffered much. He saw his younger son leave, knowing the disappointments, rejections and abuses facing him. He saw his older son become angry and bitter, and was unable to offer him affection and support. A large part of the father's life has been waiting. He could not force his younger son to come home or his older son to let go of his resentments. Only they themselves could take the initiative to return.

During these long years of waiting the father cried many tears and died many deaths. He was emptied out by suffering. But that emptiness had created a place of welcome for his sons when the time of their return came. We are called to become like that father.

Monday Morning

I'm pretty exhausted after the weekend.

I have a few thoughts about the wedding that I'll share later today perhaps.

I'm sitting here, thinking Monday morning thoughts.

Trying to figure out plans for the week.

Trying to discern whether or not participation in a few different events is going to be possible.

Reflecting on the fact that it's Stampede season again here in Calgary. And that I absolutely hate Stampede. And that I'm firmly convinced that the only good thing about Stampede is that I get to wear jeans to work every day for an entire week.

About how I don't mind dropping my roommate at the train in the mornings, but I find it rather nice on the occasional morning when I don't have to. I can leave the house later, and move at what is generally a more leisurely pace in the morning.

Thinking about scarves, and how certain ones are inextricably linked to moments of prayer. And how I'm wearing a particular one for that reason today.

Realizing that I'm going to have to buckle down and get to the unpacking and settling in earnest this week.

Wondering if the tensions at work have dissipated, or if they'll flair again this week.

Knowing that I'm behind on emails (if I owe you one, it's coming, I promise.)

Waiting for my heart to shift again.

Praying for rain to fall.

Longing for words to pray.

It's Monday morning again. And I'm thinking Monday morning thoughts.