We treasure what you end...

I read this prayer by Walter Bruggemann this morning, and it touched me deeply. Particularly the lines about being of two minds - treasuring what is ending and fearing the new things God is bringing. And yet, my heart, as with this prayer, cries out to trust God still...

"We treasure what you end"

We confess that we are set this day in the midst
of your awesome, awful work.
We will, because we have no alternative,
be present this day
to your dreadful work of termination.
We watch while you pull down
and dismantle
that with which you are finished.
We will, because we have no alternative,
be present this day
to your dream-filled work
of evoking,
imagining,
forming,
and inviting.
We are double-minded in your presence,
because we treasure what you end
and we fear what you conjure -
but we are your people
and trust you all this day
in your awesome,
awful work.
Override our reluctance
and take us with you
in justice
and mercy
and peace.
Take us with you in your overriding,
that our day may be a day of joy
and well-being
and newness
from your very hand.
In the name of your decisive newness,
even Jesus. Amen.

Ongoing themes...

The same things have been popping up over and over again in my life the last few weeks. Variations on only a very few themes. In the places in my heart that the books I've been reading and listening to touch. In the conversations I've had. In the things that have caused my heart to ache, or the moments when I've felt profoundly out of place.

I'll be sitting later this morning with a journal, working through just a few of the most recent of those variations on the themes.

It always surprises me to find life deeply, fully, weirdly interconnected. To find how few themes seem to underlay the many moments that make up my days.

And so, I'll work through more of those moments in writing later, and share them with a few dear friends to garner other thoughts and prayers and aid the process of processing. To gather sight from outside my field of vision.

But, just in this moment, I need to change from my pajamas, do something about my hair and get ready to head out the door. My roommate and I are going to try a new crepe restaurant. We've been meaning to try it for months as a celebration of sorts. The moment we were celebrating came and went nearly a month and a half ago, but is still an excellent excuse to have an indulgent breakfast, followed by a bit of shopping.

Finished

The bed is disassembled.

The mattress is back in my bedroom, and there is bedding back on it so I have a place to sleep tonight.

I have an invitation to join some very good friends for the evening. I'm waiting to see if my roommate wants to take along.

I'd like to see them I think. The one friend I've been trying to connect with for weeks now, and it would be great to see him. And time hanging with him and his roommates and whoever else has showed up is always full of laughter and fun. And, since the rest of my plans for the weekend have basically fallen through, it sounds like it wouldn't be such a bad thing to join them for a few hours, even if it does mean driving across the city.

And then, then I think I'll spend at least part of tomorrow putting books in boxes. And wrapping breakable items in newspaper and putting them in boxes as well.

Mid stream

I've stopped for a few minutes to eat dinner.

I managed to accomplish the things that needed to be done in order for my bed to be disassembled and picked up tonight.

The plan is to make a true dent in the packing this weekend.

And later, later I just might go to Ikea's midnight madness sale - just for something fun to do, since I love Ikea.

The weekend that I thought would be quite full is turning out to be quite empty. So I may actually make that dent. Or I may make it to finding some time off alone by myself somewhere to think and read and write and pray.

Where credit is due...

My first thought upon waking this morning was "Thank you God." It's a nice first thought to have.

After several very restless, pain filled, and mostly sleepless nights, I was praying prayers of desperation as I fell asleep last night, knowing my body (and by extension my mind and emotions) badly needed the restorative nature of a full night of sleep. I have to say that I don't always stop to give credit where credit is due, and that sometimes I wonder if God really cares about all the petty little things we pray about, but this morning, on waking, all I could think was "Thank you." Because there was no reason other than the blessing of a caring Father that I should have slept.

I read the following passage from Philippians 4 just before I went to bed last night, and found it's simplicity in the call to prayer and peace encouraging:

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.
(Philippians 4:6-7 NLT)

"Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God's peace." How very simple and non-formulaic. And yet, last night, I know without doubt that God heard my request (as well as some prayers of thanksgiving) and offered peace and rest in the form of a full night's sleep.

And it really has helped with perspective. For the first time all week I'm feeling physically much better - not nauseaous, and mostly pain free. And emotionally stable, instead of strung out, hormonal, and wondering what sort of wild ride through the stuff of life the day will bring.

I listened to the first album my friend Karla Adolphe recorded as I drove to work this morning. Her lyrics (particularly the song "Jude") also touched raw places in me and brought peace.

And now, now I'm at the office, and preparing to start the day. I'm wearing jeans - which is always a good thing. I'm off to make tea and toast with peanut butter (I'm in one of those odd phases my body hits where I crave protein.) I have a plan for the day (well, mostly for the after work portion of the day, since work is nearly always completely unpredictable), and I know how I'm going to execute the plan. That, I have to say, also adds to my sense of peace.