I got the following email from my brother this morning, something he sent out to the church we're a part of. It was a situation I was aware of, but reading his words made me tear up a bit.
Hello friends and family,
I sent out a request for prayer regarding my wrist injury about a month ago, and I have an update about it. Unfortunutely my condition has become a great deal more serious to the point where I can't play my guitar without consistent pain, and my wrist often causes me pain regardless of whether I use it or not. Not being able to play guitar is a serious problem since I'm studying guitar at Rocky Mountain College. However, the school has granted me a health related leave of absense as long as I will agree to work hard at the healing process and stop using my wrist. They have been very gracious to me and have restructured my lessons and created a way for me to continue practical music training apart from playing guitar. I would ask your prayers for healing for my wrist, and especially for peace and joy despite these difficult circumstances. God is teaching me patience and trust in His plan, however these things are much more easily written than learned. I'm definetely feeling very overwhelmed and frustrated, but I believe God is teaching me to love Him more than music and athletics...definetely a challenging lesson for me. I appreciate your prayers very much, they mean a lot to me.
Thank you very much
Your brother in Christ
Tim
You need to understand that my brother is not only a guitar player, but a volleyball player. Guitar is his major form of self-expression, of worship, of tension release. It is his source of joy. He is my baby brother, and has a very tender heart - one that is constantly seeking after God. He is hurting right now. His school has told him that he is not even allowed to type papers on the computer. He is to completely avoid using his wrist (or at least as much as is humanly possible).
So, my mom and I will type his papers for school, and we will pray that God will intervene quickly with healing, and that, in the meantime, He will give Tim great peace and patience. I would appreciate it if you would pray with us.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
Ironic....
One of the great ironies of my life is that God chooses to speak to me quite regularly in dreams.
You see, for all those years that I was depressed, I also suffered regularly from quite severe nightmares. Nightmares are something I’ve fought since I was a child, but as the depression intensified, the severity of the dreams also increased. I would wake unable to move, and wonder why my bed was shaking. As I would come more fully awake, I would realize that the bed was shaking because my entire body was trembling violently from the aftermath of the dream. It would feel as if something was quite literally sitting on my chest, pinning me to the bed. My pajamas would be soaked with sweat, and at times it would take all of my strength to remind myself that it had been a dream. There were many times where I wanted to scream, move, run, anything, but it took all of the strength I could summon to simply whisper over and over, “Jesus.”
Nightmares seemed to alternate with periods of insomnia, or wakefulness, and for nearly three years I rarely slept more than four hours in a stretch. All told, most nights I probably slept an average of 6 hours, and probably woke up at least 2-3 times a night, either from a nightmare, or just because I could not manage to sleep deeply and peacefully.
When God chose to heal the depression, one of the things that marked the evening was that I slept six hours in a row, without waking, and without nightmares.
I sort of assumed that my sleep difficulties had come to an end. With the healing of the depression, I intended to pursue a life of restful sleeps, and gratefulness to God for letting me sleep.
I’d had a friend who loved when God spoke to her in her dreams. When He was silent in her sleep for too long, her prayer request would be that He would once again give her dreams. I was more than happy to pray that over her, but I couldn’t help poking good natured fun at the same time. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting their sleep interrupted, even by God.
And now, it seems to be one of God’s favorite tactics to speak in my dreams. Which is great, I guess. I mean, I’m glad He’s speaking to me, but I really, really did want to sleep.
And when He does it every night for a stretch of time, I tend to get a little annoyed. I was telling my coworker the other day that I’d been having dreams again lately, and she commented, “That’s great. The Lord is speaking to you!” My response? “Well, I wish He’d choose some other time than 5 am!”
Also, dreams are so metaphorical. Sometimes I wonder if this God who insists on speaking just likes to taunt me a little. I’ve always hated metaphor, been a straightforward kind of girl. I write poetry less than once a year, preferring the more concrete style of the personal essay. I hated studying poetry in school, and I majored in history, rather than English to avoid having to pick apart metaphors and symbols for the rest of my life.
And what does God do, choose to speak to me in highly metaphorical, symbolic language!
Like I said at the beginning, one of the great ironies of my life is that the method that God has chosen for speaking to me is in dreams.
You see, for all those years that I was depressed, I also suffered regularly from quite severe nightmares. Nightmares are something I’ve fought since I was a child, but as the depression intensified, the severity of the dreams also increased. I would wake unable to move, and wonder why my bed was shaking. As I would come more fully awake, I would realize that the bed was shaking because my entire body was trembling violently from the aftermath of the dream. It would feel as if something was quite literally sitting on my chest, pinning me to the bed. My pajamas would be soaked with sweat, and at times it would take all of my strength to remind myself that it had been a dream. There were many times where I wanted to scream, move, run, anything, but it took all of the strength I could summon to simply whisper over and over, “Jesus.”
Nightmares seemed to alternate with periods of insomnia, or wakefulness, and for nearly three years I rarely slept more than four hours in a stretch. All told, most nights I probably slept an average of 6 hours, and probably woke up at least 2-3 times a night, either from a nightmare, or just because I could not manage to sleep deeply and peacefully.
When God chose to heal the depression, one of the things that marked the evening was that I slept six hours in a row, without waking, and without nightmares.
I sort of assumed that my sleep difficulties had come to an end. With the healing of the depression, I intended to pursue a life of restful sleeps, and gratefulness to God for letting me sleep.
I’d had a friend who loved when God spoke to her in her dreams. When He was silent in her sleep for too long, her prayer request would be that He would once again give her dreams. I was more than happy to pray that over her, but I couldn’t help poking good natured fun at the same time. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting their sleep interrupted, even by God.
And now, it seems to be one of God’s favorite tactics to speak in my dreams. Which is great, I guess. I mean, I’m glad He’s speaking to me, but I really, really did want to sleep.
And when He does it every night for a stretch of time, I tend to get a little annoyed. I was telling my coworker the other day that I’d been having dreams again lately, and she commented, “That’s great. The Lord is speaking to you!” My response? “Well, I wish He’d choose some other time than 5 am!”
Also, dreams are so metaphorical. Sometimes I wonder if this God who insists on speaking just likes to taunt me a little. I’ve always hated metaphor, been a straightforward kind of girl. I write poetry less than once a year, preferring the more concrete style of the personal essay. I hated studying poetry in school, and I majored in history, rather than English to avoid having to pick apart metaphors and symbols for the rest of my life.
And what does God do, choose to speak to me in highly metaphorical, symbolic language!
Like I said at the beginning, one of the great ironies of my life is that the method that God has chosen for speaking to me is in dreams.
Out and About
Well, I thought I'd start this morning off with a one-liner I found in my email inbox this morning:
"If you don't pay your exorcist, you get repossessed."
Bad, it's true, but it did make me chuckle.
It'll be quiet here for the weekend. I'm working at a Steve Bell concert tonight (can't wait), and then early tomorrow morning I'm driving out to Red Deer to meet up with my friends Marty and Kari at a conference for a day, and then to head back to their home in Gull Lake until Monday afternoon.
I can't wait for the chance to reconnect with friends, and simply be away from the city and the decisions of my life for a bit.
Next week might be pretty quiet too. My best friend Megan leaves Saturday for a three month trip, so I'll be spending as much time as possible with her this week, helping her pack and prepare, and basically serving as the person who helps her maintain her sanity!
So, if you don't hear from me for a bit, never fear, I will return!
"If you don't pay your exorcist, you get repossessed."
Bad, it's true, but it did make me chuckle.
It'll be quiet here for the weekend. I'm working at a Steve Bell concert tonight (can't wait), and then early tomorrow morning I'm driving out to Red Deer to meet up with my friends Marty and Kari at a conference for a day, and then to head back to their home in Gull Lake until Monday afternoon.
I can't wait for the chance to reconnect with friends, and simply be away from the city and the decisions of my life for a bit.
Next week might be pretty quiet too. My best friend Megan leaves Saturday for a three month trip, so I'll be spending as much time as possible with her this week, helping her pack and prepare, and basically serving as the person who helps her maintain her sanity!
So, if you don't hear from me for a bit, never fear, I will return!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Too much of myself....
It's been an interesting week. Full of dreams, and half-waking moments that I don't quite know what to do with... I keep dreaming of "lost" things. Twice last week it was a lost wallet. Then two or three days of dreams where I was sleeping in the dream, and would then wake up, and know that I had just missed something very significant. And this morning it was a lost, unwanted infant. A baby that was being passed from person to person. No one knew who she belonged to (her name in the dream was Hannah), and no one wanted to keep her. Like I said... it feels as if there is something just beyond my reach, and I don't know quite how to catch hold of it...
And on top of the dreams, last night I realized something about myself. I NEED to be right as much as possible. I was sitting and having dinner with a friend, catching up on life in the last several months, and sharing about a situation - a decision I've made - that has somewhat polarized quite a number of my relationships.
And I realized something. I know that I followed God's leading in this situation, but I really want other people to see it as the right decision. I want to feel vindicated. I want other people to follow my lead. It hasn't been enough that God is pleased with my obedience. I want the accolades of people for my obedience. I want them to do the same thing, or at least tell me that I did the right thing.
I'm tired of myself. Not only am I overshadowing God in my own life, but I'm alienating some friends by incessant need to be told that I am in fact following the leading of God in this situation. I read Psalm 51 last night, David's prayer of confession, and made it my own, confessing to God that I have allowed others to overshadow Him, that I myself have overshadowed Him, and asking Him to remind me continually that it is only His approval and vindication that I need.
And on top of the dreams, last night I realized something about myself. I NEED to be right as much as possible. I was sitting and having dinner with a friend, catching up on life in the last several months, and sharing about a situation - a decision I've made - that has somewhat polarized quite a number of my relationships.
And I realized something. I know that I followed God's leading in this situation, but I really want other people to see it as the right decision. I want to feel vindicated. I want other people to follow my lead. It hasn't been enough that God is pleased with my obedience. I want the accolades of people for my obedience. I want them to do the same thing, or at least tell me that I did the right thing.
I'm tired of myself. Not only am I overshadowing God in my own life, but I'm alienating some friends by incessant need to be told that I am in fact following the leading of God in this situation. I read Psalm 51 last night, David's prayer of confession, and made it my own, confessing to God that I have allowed others to overshadow Him, that I myself have overshadowed Him, and asking Him to remind me continually that it is only His approval and vindication that I need.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
A Militant Stance?
Check out this post on Kirk's blog. He talks a bit about the issue of gay marriage, and some other stuff, and I liked the perspective he brings. (You can find out the thoughts it triggered in my brain by reading the comments on the post.)
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