Underground

It’s my least favorite part of my daily commute to and from work. Three minutes or so in the morning, and three minutes or so in the late afternoon. Three seasons of the year, when it’s not dark in the mornings and evenings, I walk down the long ramp, into the dank, concrete tunnel – the quickest way from my home to the station where I catch a train. It runs beneath a major intersection – the city’s way of not slowing traffic with pesky pedestrians.

On a good day, the musty air smells like marijuana. On a bad day it smells like urine, courtesy, most likely of the people I occasionally encounter sleeping along the wall.

I walk in the dimly lit underground with only one headphone on, constantly checking over my shoulder to see who else is coming.

And I think about that scripture that says “Perfect love drives out fear” and I find myself wondering “Even this Lord, the fear of harm?” and “Isn’t it sometimes okay to fear? It makes me take precautions for my own safety?”

Lately, as I walk, the tunnel reminds me a little of a grave. It never sees sunlight, never really sees fresh air. The air is stale, and doesn’t move. The lighting (when it’s working) is dim, and shadows are everywhere.

It’s hard to breathe when you’re underground.

It’s hard to breathe when you feel buried. When the light is dim and seems a long way off. When you’re looking over your shoulder and waiting for the attack to come.

There’s something beautiful about coming up on the other end of the tunnel. Walking back up the ramp on the opposite side and emerging into the sunlight.

A friend and I have talked a lot about Lazarus lately. The topic came up during Lent, when I taught the story to my Sunday school girls, and it has captured my attention. We’ve talked about being called forth from death, from the grave, and having the graveclothes that hinder us removed.

“And the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound in graveclothes, his face wrapped in a headcloth. Jesus told them, ‘Unwrap him and let him go!’” (John 9:44 NLT)

The New Revised Standard Version translates that last phrase “Unbind him and let him go.”

These days, as I walk through the tunnel each morning and afternoon, as I go underground and am reminded of death, and of being bound, I find myself praying, first for myself, and then for many dear friends. I pray that we would each hear the voice of Jesus calling us forth from the grave, and that we would hear Him sending us out into life “unbound” and free to go.

Hungry and Thirsty

My body can’t seem to decide which way it wants to go some days.

There will be days and weeks on end where my appetite is limited, and I feel ill every time I eat.

And then, then there are days where I eat everything in sight, and still find myself hungry.

Today is one of the latter sort of days.

I’m ravenous.

I ate breakfast. And a snack. And lunch. And a snack. And a snack.

I’m also ridiculously thirsty. I’ve gone through something like 5 half-litre bottles of water today, as well as a cup of tea.

I’ve run out of food and there’s still an hour left in the workday. The only things around the office that could be pillaged are candy and chocolate. I’m still fasting candy and chocolate.

So, I guess I’ll go with hunger until I get home from work. Two more hours seems a long time.

I’m reminded of Lauren Winner’s statement about fasting as I sit here and try to convince my stomach that we’ll make it until I get home just fine without food. She says “Fasting reminds us that our truest hunger is for God.”

I guess I’ll keep reminding myself of that too. Jesus the bread of life, and Jesus the living water.

Overthinking?

I have a headache. I think it’s from having a particularly stiff neck and upper back at the moment, but it could be from any number of things, including over-thinking.

I’m thinking about the following things right now:

Whether or not this is the year to begin studying for my master’s degree in counseling.

That I need to find a house or apartment or basement suite, or condo or duplex. We’ve given our landlord notice that we will be moving out at the end of June, but now we need to find somewhere to move to. Somewhere with three bedrooms and enough living space that the three of us won’t be on top of each other all the time. Somewhere that fits a few criteria such as having laundry on-site (of the free non coin-operated variety), and being within walking distance of the train.

Various possibilities for travel in the next year or so.

A long conversation I had with my roommate last night about whether or not it’s appropriate that her boyfriend spends the night on our living room floor when he comes to visit her (he lives in a city three hours away, and comes about once a month). Some of her friends find this inappropriate, but it doesn’t bother either her or me, as long as both of us are home overnight (i.e. she never stays alone in the house with him).

That I’m wondering when you stop hoping to “catch up” on sleep. If you haven’t slept properly for years, at what point do you just accept that your body’s version of a “normal” amount of sleep is apparently different from the rest of the world’s.

That I’m excited to watch America’s Next Top Model tonight.

That relationships are really the most beautiful, ugly, simple, complicated, enthralling, angering thing in the world.

That the line from Simon and Garfunkel’s “I am a Rock” that goes “If I’d never loved I never would have cried…” is surprisingly true.

That I need to call my best friend.

That I need to fold laundry.

That I need to clean my bedroom.

That I need to sweep the floor in our bathroom, hallway, kitchen, and my bedroom.

That I need to rework my budget. Again.

That I’m glad I have no plans tonight, and can go straight home from work and relax and do “domestic” type things.

That I want a manicure just for the heck of it… (and that my best friend and I have plans to get manicures together one of the next times we hang out).

That I’m loving my sparkly light purple toe-nail polish.

That the tasks on my “to do” list for work are all painfully tedious at the moment.

That I have a staff meeting I don’t want to attend this afternoon.

That I have a department meeting tomorrow morning that is likely to be extraordinarily awkward and has the potential to be explosive.

That I’m really glad this day is half-way over.

That it’s “Sarcastic Wednesday” (google this for the video that explains it).

That moving is going to be a bigger pain this time, because we’ve accumulated things in the time since I moved out of my parent’s house.

That it will take forever to pack my several thousand volume library.

That moving books is brutal.

That I should pare down my library, but know I won’t, because my books are like friends that I re-visit over and over again. They have underlining, and favorite stories, and notes in the margins.

That I need to get back to work now that I’ve emptied my head of some of the over-thinking thoughts.