Of all the liars in the world...

Here are just a few of the things I'm thinking about tonight, written in my preferred, rambling sort of fashion.

My dad and I had an argument the other night about idealism. He says that it is never a good thing, that it is just something that you have when you are young, and that it comes to no good. I maintain that it is a beautiful thing, and brings much good, though, when pressed, I admit to struggling to come up with the sorts of practical, concrete examples he was looking for.

I am just presently engaged in the re-reading of a number of books in the "Anne of Green Gables" series by Lucy Maud Montgomery. I've loved these books since I was a child, and I love them still. Unlike many, though, my favorites are not the ones where Anne is a precocious child, but the later ones, the coming of age stories, where Anne is a young woman, teaching, and negotiating life and relationships, finding her way in the world.

I was rereading a blog post I wrote back in October tonight, and a few lines caught me. I wrote, "I allowed Jesus to draw me deeper into Himself, and thus make me more fully myself, for I've discovered that the moments when I'm most alive, most myself, are the moments when I am most deeply connected to what Jesus is doing in a time or place." I wonder if I realized the truth in that statement as it rolled off my fingertips? The moments when I have felt most at home (and completely alien at the same time!) in my own skin are the moments when I have been most lost in Jesus, and the things He is doing.

Have you ever had an encounter with a complete stranger, where, though no words were exchanged, it made you pause? I had an encounter like that on the train this morning. I was listening to my ipod, and generally allowing my mind to drift in the fashion I often do early in the morning, when, at one of the stops, an older man stepped on the train. He was carrying tools with him, and had the hard, weathered look of one who has done manual labor in all sorts of weather for many years. He was completely unremarkable, like dozens of other commuters I see each day, and yet, something about him made me pause. I blame it on the prayer I prayed not so long ago, asking Jesus to truly let me "see". I couldn't tell you what I saw, but I puzzled on it for a couple stops. Finally, I prayed simply in my head, "I see you. I don't know what you are, but I see you. And I carry Jesus with me." He got off at the next stop. A strange non-encounter sort of encounter, completely forgettable, and yet, it's stuck with me all day.

I'm reading a book right now, and while I'm only 60 or so pages in, can I just say that so far I heartily recommend it? The title? "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. How can you go wrong with those done in combination? Funny, how, even though the author is not a Christian - her journey of spiritual discovery ultimately (at least according to the copy on the back of the book - I'm still in the "eat" section) takes her to a yogi and an ashram somewhere in India, I am hearing Jesus in some of her descriptions. I read the conversations she has with herself, and hear Jesus speaking back to her. Her description (chapter 4, I think, should you happen to pick the book up) of the first time she prays was beautiful, and tonight, I came across the following paragraph, in which she is describing her experience of severe depression and coming to the point of admitting that it is true of her, and that she needs help, and I understood, oh so perfectly, the emotions she expresses. She writes:

"When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered a few feet off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore."

And with that thought, I think I'm going to leave you for the night. I'm going to curl up in bed, read a little more, and then sleep.

See you around!

I know I said I was going to read tonight. I may still do that. But, to be honest, I was so exhausted when I finally made it home from work that I couldn't bear the idea of immediately engaging my brain. Soooo... I'm watching a bit of television...

I also picked up a car from my parent's house.

In a while, I'll crawl into a nice, hot bath, and read.

I'm also going to prep a Sunday school lesson tonight.

I'm pondering the timing of the arrival of an information package that I requested from a seminary well over a month ago, the day after I found out that the job I was planning on is not going to be mine.

Tomorrow, you ask?

Tomorrow I'm going to pick my baby brother up just before nine, and drive him to a church on the way out of town. He's writing a royal conservatory music theory exam. I'm heading to Canmore to spend the day with a good friend. I can't wait.

I'm so glad this week is over. At about three this afternoon I honestly thought it was never going to end. On the bus on the way home, there was brand new driver again - for the second time this week, and the third time since I've been riding the route. A driver who needed directions on where to turn. Why Calgary transit puts rookie drivers on one of the longest and most complicated routes in the city without training them on the route first, I'll never understand.

But, it's the weekend, and I'm going to enjoy friends and family. I'm going to rest, and pray, and light candles. I'm going to try and not think about my job - and how next week promises to be even more crazy and stressful than this week. I'm going to read, and maybe do some baking. I'm going to talk with Jesus. I'm going to relax, breathe, take sabbath. It's so cool that I can do that.

I found out yesterday that I won't get the job I was so certain I'd get after all.

And I'm okay with that.

I'd prayed hard before making the decision to apply, and it seemed God was leading in that direction, so I went with it.

Within a week of applying, though, I found out some more details about possible future travel plans (next summer), and realized that if I wanted to follow my heart on the traveling, I couldn't make the time commitment to the job.

So, I let things sit in limbo, and waited for my employer to bring it up.

Yesterday morning, as we discussed the unpaid leave time that I'm taking to go to Malta, it came up.

I also found out that while they'll generously grant me leave for Malta, that's the only time they'll do it. The next time the Lord asks me to make a trip around the world somewhere, I'll be out of a job.

I wrote a friend last night to tell her about the job situation.

As I was writing, I realized that I really am okay.

I feel so many things changing still in my life... I am being pulled outward to the world, and sense that there will be many opportunities to travel in this next season. Possibilities (vaguely for some, less vague for others) exist on my radar for trips to Rwanda, Peru, India/Pakistan, and Europe.

I told my friend, "I want to be blown with the wind for this next while, not settled." I want to go wherever Jesus takes me and hang out with friends in locations spread across the country and across the globe.

I leave for Malta in just over a month.

I'm ready to float on the wind...

I got my hair cut tonight, but I'm too lazy to take a picture to show you. 3 or 4 inches cut off. Layers. Bangs - albeit long ones. Generally it has a shape again. 6 months is too long in between cuts. But moving out and and a few other things made it less feasible to spend the money for a really good cut for a while there.

I wandered in the mall for a little while before I had the hair appointment. Mostly I hung out in the bookstore.

I've been in bookstores a little too often this week for the good of my budget.

I picked up two new titles tonight. Both were one's I was surprised to find in a secular, large chain bookstore. "Starving Jesus" by Craig Gross and J.R. Mahon, and "The Year I Got Everything I Wanted" by Cameron Conant. I've been reading Conant's blog for a while now (I link to it in my sidebar) and was delighted to find his book in the store tonight.

If this week ever actually ends (a fact I'm sort of doubting since it feels like one of the longest on record), I'm going to spend tomorrow evening curled up with lit candles, a cup of tea (or several) reading. I have at least three titles purchased this week that I'm looking forward to diving into. And a magazine. I have a magazine too. And probably a hot bath. The books would be good while soaking in sweetly scented salts for an hour or so.

For the moment, though, I'm going to enjoy watching Grey's Anatomy, then I'm going to try and catch some sleep. Not something I've been doing that well this week, but still worth the effort...

I've hardly eaten today. I don't know exactly what's been going on with my body the last few days, but it's NOT happy with me at the moment. I'm inescapably nauseous just at the moment, and sipping tea and water as if my life depended on it.

I still need to get through three more hours of work, the evening commute, and a haircut before I get to be home for the night. If I can survive the time at work, then I'll make it.

The atmosphere in the office feels heavy again today, and I'm not sure why. There's not the usual things that are connected to that. It's making me more tired (and probably more ill) than usual.

I'll be glad when this week ends.

In the meantime, here are a few things I'm clinging to as things that are making me smile and remember that life is so much more about the things outside the walls of my office building.

• a fair degree of certainty about a job uncertainty that had been hanging in the balance for several weeks. (more on that another time).
• a surprise lunch with Kari since the highway was closed to clear up an accident
• the fact that my siblings and I each decided to purchase our own ticket to a Rascal Flatts concert in March, and make that our Christmas gift to each other - an evening out in March.
• a haircut scheduled for tonight.
• a venti passion tea sitting on my desk.
• a warm polar fleece sweater.
• that I get to take the bus home tonight instead of the train.

In the tradition of Wednesday's lately, this one is bringing strange surprises.

I'm having some odd physical symptoms. Slightly blurred vision that comes and goes in my good eye. (concerning since my left eye is lazy, and my brain basically doesn't recognize the visual input from it, so I rely on my right eye to be able to see.) Oddly stuffed, buzzing, staticy sensation in my right ear. And a few other things that I won't mention for the moment.

I'm not particularly worried. It's a Wednesday after all. Weird things that are connected to the spiritual realm in ways I don't understand happen on Wednesdays.

It's snowing pretty heavily again, too. Should make the commute to my parent's house for a church leadership meeting kind of nasty later.

With that said, I'm going back to staring at spreadsheets and transferring tiny numbers to new columns. (Always fun with occasionally blurred vision!)

See ya later!

Because it's Wednesday, 8:40 a.m., and the day already feels a bit crazy. Here it is... this week's edition of the things I love/that I'm thankful for/that are making me smile.

• passion tea
• that the Lord is speaking to my heart - even when it's in dreams and taking up part of my night's sleep
• nature valley sweet & salty granola bar for breakfast
• for friends that have aided and abbetted God as He's broadening my heart to the world
• for not waking up cold this morning
• for longjohns that let me survive the cold commute
• for figuring out an inner pocket so that my ipod doesn't freeze and stop working on the commute
• music that lifts my heart
• "The Elf's Lament" by the Barenaked Ladies and featuring Michael Buble from the album "Barenaked for the Holidays". Makes me crack up every time I hear it (and I play it a lot). So completely intelligent and subversive and funny. My new favorite lines? "Full indentured servitude can reflect on one's attitude, but that silly red hat just makes the fat man look outrageous." and "I make toys but I've got aspirations." I've taken to quoting that second one in all of the moments when I'm tired and sarcastic and nervous and stressed and am lacking for other words... makes people stare at me oddly!
• for a forecast that's supposed to get a bit warmer by the weekend
• for a haircut scheduled for tomorrow night. six months is too long in between haircuts. my hair is too long, and completely unmangageable. 3 or so inches coming off tomorrow night baby!
• for plans to hang out in the mountains with a dear friend for the day on Saturday.
• for a presentation about Malta that went smoothly at church on Sunday.
• for a level of relief from lingering dread that a conversation I had a few weeks ago stirred in me, and for the friend who saw clearly enough to pray for me when I described that conversation to her.
• for finding the perfect ornament to add to my collection started by our parents, symbolizing something significant from each year of our lives. (and what, you ask, did I buy to symbolize this year? a dove. If you want to know what that symbolizes for me (and it's not peace!) you'll have to ask me!)
• for the fact that I get to wear jeans to work every day this week because it's renewal season and I'm doing a lot more slightly dirty, up and down manual work.
• for the time saved every morning in not having to pack a pair of dress pants to change into once I get to work - I commute in jeans - they're warmer than a thin pair of dress pants, and they take the beating from the snow and slop that exists in the winter season better to.
• for mandarin oranges
• for smoked gouda
• for a working pair of headphones
• for music from Jacob and Lily
• for warmth and light

I'm curled up in my praying chair, in the corner of my bedroom. There are candles lit, the scent of incense in the air because I was burning it earlier. A mug of tea within easy reach - mango rooibos is the brew of choice tonight. Soft instrumental piano music playing quietly on my laptop - a cd of old hymns.

The clutter around the room is bothering me, but I don't have the energy or drive to clean it tonight... maybe tomorrow, maybe not...

As I was driving home from the grocery store earlier tonight, I was searching for a word to describe how I've been feeling lately.

The word I came up with is "displaced".

I remember telling a friend towards the end of the summer that I was so tired of feeling as if my whole life was in transition all the time. The transitions have smoothed out, but there isn't yet the sense of comfort, of knowingness that comes with time and patience.

Displaced sounds like a bad thing. I don't mean it that way at all. I just mean that I am feeling as if I am slightly in between spaces. I'm no longer in the old (boring) comfortable and familiar space. I'm not quite fully into the new spaces I've begun to sense the Lord asking me to occupy. So I'm inbetween, slightly displaced. And I think it's a very good spot to be.

I had salad for supper (and at lunch, too, come to think of it). I can't remember the last time I had salad twice in one day. Probably before I moved out of mom and dad's house. Not being a huge lover of lettuce, I don't buy the stuff, and rarely make salads for myself, preferring to get my daily dose of vegetables in other forms. But today, it tasted really good.

I bought two books and a magazine tonight. Reading related purchases always make me happy. One of the books is the book on Africa that I started reading three weeks ago - I have to return my copy to the library, and wanted to purchase my own, and mark a few things I'd flagged before I returned the copy to the library. The other is a memoir about life and spirituality. Can I just say that memoirs make for some of my favorite reading of all-time? Particularly those that fall into the genre one of my university professors described as "spiritual autobiography." The magazine is one that looked like it might have some fun, uncomplicated Christmas ideas among other things, and will, if nothing else, probably provide some great clipping for collage projects in the future.

I'm thinking that I'll probably need to make a list of things that are making me smile either tonight or tomorrow morning. I'm in need of the reminders of the beautiful things in life at the moment...

Well... I think I'll read, and finish sipping my tea for a few minutes, then maybe watch a bit of television before bed...

until next time!

Nurturing the Eternal Life Within Us

The knowledge that Jesus came to dress our mortal bodies with immortality must help us develop an inner desire to be born to a new eternal life with him and encourage us to find ways to prepare for it.

It is important to nurture constantly the life of the Spirit of Jesus - which is the eternal life - that is already in us. Baptism gave us this life, the Eucharist maintains it, and our many spiritual practices - such as prayer, meditation, spiritual reading, and spiritual guidance - can help us to deepen and solidify it. The sacramental life and life with the Word of God gradually make us ready to let go of our mortal bodies and receive the mantle of immortality. Thus death is not the enemy who puts an end to everything but the friend who takes us by the hand and leads us into the Kingdom of eternal love.

I fell in love with the beauty of South America all over again last night.

One of the kids I watched the movie with commented as it ended, "Crap, now I have to buy it, and I really want to go to Peru..."

I watched the faces of the two young artists sitting in my living room, as much as I watched the movie.

I watched and thought about the need for breath, such a strong theme in the movie. The need to overcome, the strength for change that comes in finding breath.

I watched and thought about breath, and prayed for the two sitting in my living room, that the things in their lives that stifle - the anxieties, the illnesses, the fears, the stuff of everyday boredom too - would lift, and that they would push through and find strength.

And I prayed for Peru, for this country that has a tiny portion of my heart. I prayed that Jesus will continue to speak to my heart, that he will make clear the timing of that trip, that the right companions for traveling will present themselves.

I'm crashed on the couch, watching "The Motorcycle Diaries" again, with two of my youth kids.

Every time I watch this movie, I fall in love with South America from a distant, and hear again the call on my heart to travel to Peru.

The kids I'm watching with are both artist types... I know they'll see some of the beauty I see every time I watch this movie...

So I'm laying here, letting the Spanish flow over me, and praying for Peru again...

Today was a little bit crazy at the office.

Seems like almost nothing has gone smoothly with the transition of software systems that we're in the midst of, and today continued that stretch.

There are stressed out people everywhere, and some of my normal duties are suffering because people are dropping last minute high priority items on my desk. Leaving parts of my job undone stresses me out a bit.

I fell asleep for a little bit on the bus on my way home, in that head-bobbing, not quite fully asleep, but definitely can't make yourself wake up kind of way.

I'm having coffee with one of my youth kids in a few minutes.

Time spent praying, with lit candles is probably on my agenda for the evening.

Then hopefully an early bedtime...

In the interests of clearing out my "to be followed up" email folder, here are two more reflections from Henri Nouwen that I had flagged to share with all of you.

Our Lives, Sowing Times

Our short lives on earth are sowing time. If there were no resurrection of the dead, everything we live on earth would come to nothing. How can we believe in a God who loves us unconditionally if all the joys and pains of our lives are in vain, vanishing in the earth with our mortal flesh and bones? Because God loves us unconditionally, from eternity to eternity, God cannot allow our bodies - the same as that in which Jesus, his Son and our savior, appeared to us - to be lost in final destruction.

No, life on earth is the time when the seeds of the risen body are planted. Paul says: "What is sown is perishable, but what is raised is imperishable; what is sown is contemptible but what is raised is glorious; what is sown is weak, but what is raised is powerful; what is sown is a natural body, and what is raised is a spiritual body" (1 Corinthians 15:42-44). This wonderful knowledge that nothing we live in our bodies is lived in vain holds a call for us to live every moment as a seed of eternity.

The wonderful knowledge, that nothing we live in our body is lived in vain, holds a call for us to live every moment as a seed of eternity.

The Dilemma of Life

Do we desire to be with Christ in the resurrection? It seems that most of us are not waiting for this new life but instead are doing everything possible to prolong our mortal lives. Still, as we grow more deeply into the spiritual life - the life in communion with our risen Lord - we gradually get in touch with our desire to move through the gate of death into the eternal life with Christ. This is no death wish but a desire for the fulfillment of all desires. Paul strongly experienced that desire. He writes: "Life to me, of course, is Christ, but then death would be a positive gain. ... I am caught in this dilemma: I want to be gone and to be with Christ, and this is by far the stronger desire - and yet for your sake to stay alive in this body is a more urgent need" (Philippians 1:21-24). This is a dilemma that few of us have, but it lays bare the core of the spiritual struggle.

I wish you could see my house through my eyes tonight.

The tracklights that light our living room are dimmed, and there are candles lit on my coffee table - 6 tea lights and two pillars.

The tracklights are casting just the right glow on the photos of Paris hanging on the main wall of our living room.

My favorite throw blanket is strewn across the couch, where I can easily curl up in it.


On my tv, the movie "The Holiday" is playing. A feel-good, love story, Christmassy movie.

My kitchen smells great, because my roommate made brownies this afternoon, and I am cooking a favorite dinner - potatoes and sausages. The sausages are "turkey mango" homemade by a local butcher and purchased at the farmer's market last weekend, and they taste fantastic.

There are some books within arms reach of the spot on the couch where I am curled up (while not in the kitchen cooking).

I can hear the dryer tumbling in the background. I'll have warm, clean smelling pj's to crawl into later tonight.

My Bible is nearby, because I want to spend some time with it and a journal later, talking with Jesus about the upcoming week.

I'm planning for a long, hot bath later.

My Christmas tree is lit.

I wish you could see it all through my eyes, because I see home, and peace, and rest, and joy and deep beauty in all of these simple things.

I read a beautiful blog post, by a woman who seems to have spent much of her adult life as a missionary in Africa today. I've stolen her title, and I'll telling you that you need to go here and read her post.

This is me, looking oddly puzzled about my topic for some reason, talking in church this morning. I gave my camera to one of my youth kids, and asked him to take a bunch of photos. I wanted proof that I actually got up there and did this!

I'm speaking for a few minutes at church this morning.

Sharing a bit about my upcoming trip to Malta.

Trying to figure out how to share the things on my heart with these people, many of whom have known me since I was an infant.

Figuring out how to be the person I am, and speak from that place, instead of being the person they expect me to be, and speaking from that place.

I'm frightened, I'll admit it. But I'm going anyway.

I didn't sleep much last night, and what sleep I got was tense. I can barely move my neck from that tenseness this morning. I nearly passed out in the shower from light-headedness. But I'm going to do this. (And I think I'm going to be all right.)

I have a pretty good idea of what I want to say, just hoping it comes out of my mouth in a way that the understanding in my head is clearly communicated.

I'm gathering my nerve.

Late last week, in the midst of the crazyness that was at that moment defining both of our lives, my roommate and I looked at each other and said, "we need to go to the mountains."

We were both too busy for that at that point.

But we're going anyway.

My laptop is coming with me. I have work that needs to be accomplished for a presentation I'm doing at church tomorrow.

We're going to sit in a coffee shop in Canmore for a couple of hours. Then grab lunch and head into Banff.

We'll probably stop at Lake Minnewanka and take a few photos.

We'll wander main street, and maybe stop at the Banff Springs and see the gingerbread houses we've heard are on display there.

We're going to end our day in the hotsprings, before heading back home.

It's much needed, and I'm glad for it.