Clinging

My roommate, L. sent me this photo she took of me when we spent the afternoon together a week or so ago. It's taken in "my" spot in Fish Creek park, and I love it. I love the way she captured the light, and the moment. I'm clinging, in what have been some difficult recent days, to the memories from that day, the reminders of reasons to smile and rest and have joy and peace.

Queen of Lists

I have this inherent need to mentally organize things, and I generally do it by making lists. Lists for work. Lists for home.

Here are some of my lists for the day/week...

Work (this week)

• water the plants
• process the outgoing volunteer mail
• filing
• prepare the "week at a glance" email
• hard drive folder reorg
• write a "receipt summary" memo for the volunteer treasurers
• work on arranging a corporate hotel rate
• follow up on a few emails
• design a layout for the four page spring/summer newletter that goes out to the policy holders
• place an office supply order
• circulate a card for a staff member and his wife who recently had their first child
• update the volunteer contact information database and circulate a copy of the updates to all staff
• create a variety of email distribution lists for the general use of all staff
• follow up on a couple of projects with my boss
• send an email out to the Calgary office reminding them that our recycling company pick up is this week
• re-package returned mail

Home (today)

• start packing for the move next weekend
• arrange utility service for our new house
• clean my section of the refrigerator
• try to arrange to borrow a truck for moving
• try to arrange some extra hands for moving
• send an email query regarding the seminary I'm interested in attending for my master's degree
• email a few different friends regarding various matters
• email my baby brother in England

My cry reached his ears...

I was laying on the floor just now... a posture that is becoming a familiar one for waiting and prayer... laying and letting the Psalms play over me...

I am captured by bits of Psalm 18. I can't be bothered to give you the specific verse references (it's playing just now, on repeat, as I sit in my chair and write this). Just the bits and pieces I needed to hear. The bits and pieces I'm working to trust and rest in tonight. To carry with me into a new and full week.

I love you, Lord;
you are my strength.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior;
my God is my rock, in whom I find protection.
He is my shield, the power that saves me,
and my place of safety.

The ropes of death entangled me;
floods of destruction swept over me;
death laid a trap in my path.
But in my distress I cried out to the Lord;
yes, I prayed to my God for help.
He heard me from his sanctuary;
my cry to him reached his ears.

He reached down from heaven and rescued me;
he drew me out of deep waters.

He led me to a place of saftety;
he rescued me because he delights in me.

You light a lamp for me.
The Lord, my God, lights up my darkness.

With my God I can scale any wall.

He is a shield for all who look to him for protection.

God arms me with strength,
and he makes my way perfect.

You have given me your shield of victory.
Your right hand supports me;

You gave me victory over my accusers

The Lord lives! Praise to my Rock!
May the God of my salvation be exalted!

You hold me safe beyond the reach of my enemies;

For this, O Lord, I will praise you among the nations;
I will sing praises to your name.

Unplanned

Today did not go as planned.

I didn't teach. It got put off until next week.

I didn't spend time with the young woman I'd planned to spend my afternoon with.

I ended up making a step into the unknown instead.

Into what I hope is a process of healing, and moving on.

Only an hour. Then a bus trip home, and Chinese takeout delivered to satisfy a craving.

It was all unplanned, but I think good.

I'm curled up in my favorite chair.

Wrapped in a blanket.

Reading a novel.

Wearing an emerald in my nose.

A rose that lay waiting for me on the sidewalk in my hair.

And a twirling skirt with bells on the hem.

Last Things (And Maybe New Ones?)

I'm teaching my last Sunday school lessons this morning. I'll be so glad to be finished. This has been a necessary season - one in which I've quite possibly been more struck, convicted, and taught by the lessons I've been teaching than my students have. But I'll be glad to see it draw to a close.

I think I'm spending the afternoon with a young friend... Whatever we do, I need for it to be creative. I'm needing to find ways to express my heart that are voiceless, as the words are not coming again.

I'm hoping we'll end up either in a park, by the river, or perhaps in Kensington.

It's time for new things. Time to take steps that let me move on from some of the spaces I've occupied in this season.

So.

Creativity.

An emerald in my nose.

A twirling skirt worn over capri pants, and cute ballet flats (even though they give me blisters).

A scarf instead of a jacket.

Fun earrings.

Color.

Joy.

Life.

(and secreted away in my purse some reminders. stones. and a shell or two.)