Full Heart

Today did not start off all that well.

I woke up with the compulsion to clean. To order my world. This is not generally a good sign, because, while I am not by any means a messy person, I am not the world's tidiest person either. A compulsion to clean and bring order generally means that there is something in my world which is chaotic, and which I cannot control, and, since I cannot control whatever that thing is, I control the chaos that is within my reach, and I clean.

(The compulsion to bring order to chaos has been coming to me quite a lot since returning home from my travels - you'd almost think that there are things on my mind that are making me a bit frazzled or something!)

I accomplished quite a lot of cleaning and organizing before church this morning.

Church was well, church. I taught Sunday school. We talked about John chapter 10, where Jesus refers to himself as the Good Shepherd and says that his sheep know his voice. Good stuff, generally speaking. As per usual, I pushed the girls I teach to give answers to my questions that went beyond the surface. (I'm not a big fan of the "sunday school answer.") As per usual, they whined that I made them think too hard, and then gave great answers.

A quick grocery shopping trip with my roommate followed immediately on the heels of church, and then, as I was unloading my groceries, a friend showed up to pick me up for a previously scheduled date.

We went together to the farmer's market, picked up lunch, she bought her groceries for the week (I bought mine there yesterday). We followed that up with a quick stop at starbucks, and a local bakery, and then headed for the park to walk and talk. I am continually amazed at the way our hearts are being drawn along parallel paths - the situations we occupy in life widely varied, but the direction of our hearts the same. It's always fun to walk and talk and share Jesus stories with her, to catch up on our weeks, and share prayer requests for the week ahead. I am finding myself in awe of this growing relationship that the Lord has given us. This tiny taste of community within my own city.

After she dropped me back at home, I returned to my previously scheduled cleaning and organizing compulsion (and am actually quite satisfied with the results.)

I ended up chatting for a while with a dear friend from out of town. We talked for a long time about the scripture passage that tells of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. She had some beautiful insights into the story, and as we talked I found myself wondering why, since we talk so regularly, we don't discuss scripture more often. We talk all the time of prayer, and of spiritual things, but don't often talk of scripture (though we both love the scriptures). The things we talked about challenged me deeply, have my heart racing and hungry to spend time studying that story over the course of this next week. (A bonus for me, as I'm teaching that story in Sunday school next week!)

As that conversation drew to a close, my best friend, M. showed up at my door. We don't get to spend nearly as much time together as we'd like, and right now we're savoring any time we get. In just over a month she will leave to spend the next year and a half overseas, working as a nurse in a tiny hospital for women and children in Pakistan.

We decided on pizza (we rarely get together without sharing a meal) and picked it up on our way to her apartment. For the next two hours we had a long, rambling, beautiful conversation. Catching up on the things going on in each of our lives. Sharing about the things the Lord has been working in us. Talking about deeper things than we often do. We talked, too, about Lazarus. About fear. About peace. About joy. About relationships - those with boys and those that aren't with boys.

When I write it out like this, my day sounds really mundane. Full of people and places to be, but nothing out of the ordinary. But I write with a full heart. I encountered Jesus today, and not in the really expected places. Not so much at church or during worship. I met him walking in a park and developing a growing friendship. I met him talking about his word with a friend. I met him eating pizza with my best friend, laughing at her nursing stories (did you know that Santa is not so much for clothes in the off season? also, he doesn't sleep in beds - he prefers the floor.), and praying for each other for a while, sitting in her car in the dark, in front of my house. M. is maybe one of the only people in the world with whom I am comfortable praying aloud - we started doing it together a few years back, because both of us were increasingly finding ourselves in situations that required praying aloud, and we both hated it! So, we began to practice each time we were together. We'd sit in her car and pray for each other, and for the people and things around us. We don't do it as often anymore, but it's still something I treasure, and something I'll miss while she's away.

My heart is full. Today I was gifted with heart connections that I didn't even know I was longing for. And it was so good. Thanks, Jesus.

Odd Sort of Day

It's been an odd sort of day.

I went to bed late last night, and woke early.

The last few days I've been sleeping with the crucifix of the rosary I bought in Rome clutched in my hand.

It's been an odd sort of Lent. Full of images of blood and water and wine. Of death and suffering. Of hope and redemption.

I talked with a dear friend for a long time this morning.

I went with two of my youth girls to some of my favorite spots. The farmer's market, and Kensington.

Ran into a friend at the farmer's market. Someone I haven't seen in a while, but would like to connect with in the future.

My favorite restaurant in Kensington is closed. A little hole in the wall place full of atmosphere and cozyness. They served over 60 varieties of sweet and savoury crepes. There's a little sign in the window saying they've been closed "for renovations" since November 26th, and will post further notice of a re-opening date. I peeked through the window. Nothing has changed. I'm not hopeful that there will be a reopening date.

Came home, and chatted on the phone with my mom.

I did a bit of reading, lay for a long time in a hot bath with lavender scented bubbles.

Eventually I'll cook dinner.

The day has been odd - full of connections simmering just under the surface. Things poking at the back of my mind, and making me wonder what exactly it is that I'm missing.

Worth it

I woke up this morning and was trying to decide what to listen to on my ipod on the morning walk and train commute. As I scrolled through the myriad of options, I stumbled across an album I haven't listened to in a while, and kind of felt that internal prodding that I am beginning to recognize as God prompting me to put that one on. So I did. "Effortless" by Rita Springer.

The first song spoke volumes to a melt-down I had last night. It's still speaking volumes to where I'm at this morning, recovering from the melt-down. It's titled "Worth it All"

I don't understand Your ways
Oh but I will give You my song
Give You all of my praise
You hold on to all my pain
With it You are pulling me closer
And pulling me into Your ways

Now around every corner
And up every mountain
I'm not looking for crowns
Or the water from fountains
I'm desperate in seeking, frantic believing
That the sight of Your face
Is all that I need
I will say to You

It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it all
I believe this
It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it all

I believe this
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it all
I believe this
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it all
I believe this

Letting Go of Our Fear of God - Henri Nouwen

Another interesting reflection from Henri Nouwen...

Letting Go of Our Fear of God

We are afraid of emptiness. Spinoza speaks about our "horror vacui," our horrendous fear of vacancy. We like to occupy-fill up-every empty time and space. We want to be occupied. And if we are not occupied we easily become preoccupied; that is, we fill the empty spaces before we have even reached them. We fill them with our worries, saying, "But what if ..."

It is very hard to allow emptiness to exist in our lives. Emptiness requires a willingness not to be in control, a willingness to let something new and unexpected happen. It requires trust, surrender, and openness to guidance. God wants to dwell in our emptiness. But as long as we are afraid of God and God's actions in our lives, it is unlikely that we will offer our emptiness to God. Let's pray that we can let go of our fear of God and embrace God as the source of all love.

Thankful

I need to make a things I'm thankful for list this morning. I need the perspective.

I'm thankful for:

• the fact that even though a couple of inches of snow fell overnight, it is not correspondingly freezing cold.
• the fact that I work for a company that exists, at least in part, to donate a large portion of it's profits to Mennonite Central Committee Alberta - essentially funding works of justice all over the world
• chocolate cupcakes left over from yesterday's staff meeting, for breakfast.
• g-mail chat
• eyes that see
• lunch being provided for us at work today
• the long-time friends like James, who hung out even when he wanted to strangle me, when I was the crankiest, nastiest person to be around, in the midst of the worst of my depression
• friends with a huge heart for various parts of the world, like Megs and Marty and Kari
• a sense of the nearness of Jesus in the midst of this painful season of Lent
• my friendship with Shelley, who laughs at my sarcasm, makes me laugh in return, won't let me avoid anything, and generally holds me accountable to being the person God seems to be calling me to be
• a friend at work who laughs in all the right places when I'm sarcastic and cranky, or have a "blond" moment, and dishes back just as much as I give out
• mandarin oranges from Pakistan
• bottled water
• home-made muffins
• Passion tea
• Vanilla rooibos tea
• a job that promises not to be "slow and boring" anytime soon
• all the little things that remind me to pray
• having found the "nearly perfect" journal for processing my trip in a couple of weeks ago
• suddenly having the burning desire to write again - constantly. my journals usually take two years or so to fill. the new one was begun on February 14th and is now 1/3 full, with no signs of slowing
• dreams of future travels - Israel, Peru, Pakistan/India, back to Europe, and yes, probably Africa
• moments of redemption, big and small
• the moments when the words begin to pour from my heart onto a page, and release is granted for my soul
• incense (in stick and pebble form)
• candles
• skirts that fit, even when my dress pants don't
• scarves - I love scarves.
• cute earrings
• a best friend who brings me things like scarves and bracelets and earrings from all over the world
• friends who are committed to prayer
• various things from all over the world that surround the corner of my bedroom where I sit to pray, and remind me of my ever-growing heart for the nations