there was another article on the car crash I mentioned here yesterday in today's newspaper. I am connected to the victims and families and their community via my place of work, and my heart goes out to this community
Crash Haunts Victim's Mother
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
(yes, that is a shameless U2 reference in the title. I've loved their music for a long time, and downloaded the new album from Itunes last night. I forgot to update my ipod however, so now I'm looking forward to going home tonight and letting it play while I cook dinner.)
The world crashed in a little last night. You already know that if you read my previous post. I was angry and grieving. There have been some difficult things this week - anniversaries of sorts - that have underscored some deep losses of relationship, and the tenuous nature of others.
I was lonely and very, very angry. With God, and with a number of people. I think for the most part, it was a healthy sort of grief and anger. Better for it to find a bit of expression and release through writing and tears, than for that to remain within me, eating me from the inside out.
Some little things helped. An email from a new friend who saw the blog (I'll respond to you later today I hope). A conversation with my roommate. Reminding myself that it is okay to feel things (it still feels wrong at moments, to experience emotion, after all those years of depression so void of emotion. the negative emotions, in particular scare me, and I tend to bottle them instead of letting them exist, in fear of a return of the onslaught of depression.)
I can't make it on my own. And things animate and inanimate are helping this morning.
The world crashed in a little last night. You already know that if you read my previous post. I was angry and grieving. There have been some difficult things this week - anniversaries of sorts - that have underscored some deep losses of relationship, and the tenuous nature of others.
I was lonely and very, very angry. With God, and with a number of people. I think for the most part, it was a healthy sort of grief and anger. Better for it to find a bit of expression and release through writing and tears, than for that to remain within me, eating me from the inside out.
Some little things helped. An email from a new friend who saw the blog (I'll respond to you later today I hope). A conversation with my roommate. Reminding myself that it is okay to feel things (it still feels wrong at moments, to experience emotion, after all those years of depression so void of emotion. the negative emotions, in particular scare me, and I tend to bottle them instead of letting them exist, in fear of a return of the onslaught of depression.)
I can't make it on my own. And things animate and inanimate are helping this morning.
- the aforementioned email
- a genuine inquiry from my roommate (who has now seen me in some of the worst moments) as to my well-being tonight, and the offer of a listening ear as I drove her to the train
- a clarifying conversation with a dear friend
- a cup of tea
- smoked gouda cheese for breakfast (I know - that sounds weird, but I'm trying to eat protein in the mornings because it seems to helping with the mid-afternoon sugar crash and headache I often experience. Plus, I really like smoked gouda!)
- a beautiful, colorful fresh fruit salad that speaks of the promise of spring returning
- Amber Body Butter from the body shop
- Hemp lip protector also from the body shop. (And this one - I could rave about the brilliance of it. I get badly chapped lips - partly a side effect of our cold, dry climate at this time of year. I've only been using it for a couple days, but it works fantastically!)
- the promise of a nice dinner and a new U2 album to listen to tonight.
- a new top, purchased on the weekend, covered in an abstract design of black and purple roses against a white background.
- warm magic bags helping me with my seeming inability to regulate my own body heat.
Sometimes I can't make it on my own. And I'm thankful for the things that help me smile in the midst of that.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Under the surface
I've been working for a couple weeks now to pretend like life is smooth. And in some ways it has been.
Like the surface of the sea has calmed for a while, but underneath, underneath is a roiling mess.
I managed to keep it mostly underneath. Until tonight.
Now it's all over the place, and I'm sitting here sobbing. My heart hurts. And there is quite literally no human that I'm aware of to whom I can turn.
The cost in relationships this last year has been high. And the few deep friends I have left are far away. At the moment even some of those relationships feel a bit tenuous in the midst of the spiritual storm that I seem to have been unceasingly caught in over this last year. (And that tenuous nature makes me scared, and increasingly, angry at the things causing it.)
My thoughts last night about blessing looking different than expected are ones I've pondered often.
I'll come right out and say that I'm asking a lot of questions of God about blessing. I've been taught (and believe scripture teaches) that obedience brings blessing. I was involved with some things last year that I believed then, and still believe, that God very specifically called me to. But the cost of those has been high, and has played out in every realm of my life, and still seems to be increasing. And I've found myself wondering where the blessing that was promised in the midst of obedience is. And if it will ever come.
Like the surface of the sea has calmed for a while, but underneath, underneath is a roiling mess.
I managed to keep it mostly underneath. Until tonight.
Now it's all over the place, and I'm sitting here sobbing. My heart hurts. And there is quite literally no human that I'm aware of to whom I can turn.
The cost in relationships this last year has been high. And the few deep friends I have left are far away. At the moment even some of those relationships feel a bit tenuous in the midst of the spiritual storm that I seem to have been unceasingly caught in over this last year. (And that tenuous nature makes me scared, and increasingly, angry at the things causing it.)
My thoughts last night about blessing looking different than expected are ones I've pondered often.
I'll come right out and say that I'm asking a lot of questions of God about blessing. I've been taught (and believe scripture teaches) that obedience brings blessing. I was involved with some things last year that I believed then, and still believe, that God very specifically called me to. But the cost of those has been high, and has played out in every realm of my life, and still seems to be increasing. And I've found myself wondering where the blessing that was promised in the midst of obedience is. And if it will ever come.
Headline...
Another car crash where there is an indirect connection for me to the victims...
Family Reeling Over Death of Four Near Medicine Hat
Family Reeling Over Death of Four Near Medicine Hat
Monday, March 02, 2009
Go to the land I will give you (When blessing doesn't look like blessing)
As part of Lent this year, there are two little devotional books that I have been reading in addition to my usual nightly routine of Scripture, prayer and a guided journal that was a gift from a dear friend.
Tonight, both of those booklets caught deeply at my heart, challenging and pulling at me in the midst of a number of things I've been thinking about.
The first one is simply called "Places Along the Way" and explores in a scripture reading and short reflection various places - taking you on a Lenten journey if you will. Tonight's "stop" was Ur of the Chaldees. The place from which the Lord called Abraham out into the unknown. Into a journey of trust. "Go from your country to the land that I will show you." It always surprises me that Abraham went. I'd have been asking a lot of questions. "What land, Lord? What should I bring with me? Why there instead of here?" But Abraham packed everything up and headed out.
I've felt a bit like I've been journeying in the unknown this year. Certainly in the uncertain and unexpected. And trying to learn trust along the way. To really believe that Jesus doesn't have it in for me, and that he is holding and guiding and seeking to bless me in the midst of this.
That booklet closed with the following paragraph, which hit my heart deeply:
"We go out today and tomorrow not knowing where the steps will take us. We will be tempted to become attached to the wrong places and things. We are likely to put our minds on cities without foundations, built by humans who are destined to be dust. But the Christ of promise gives us the vision and confidence to walk in faith, with eyes fixed on the permanent."
The second book is simply titled "Journeying Through Lent with Luke," and tonight's passage looked at the first two beatitudes as Luke presents them: "God blesses you who are poor, for the Kingdom of God is yours. God blesses you who are hungry now, for you will be satisfied. God blesses you who weep now, for in due time you will laugh." (Luke 6:20-21 NLT)
Again, this has been a year where I've asked big questions about the blessings of God, and so the words of the author of this little Lenten book caught at me tonight. She writes:
"Being comfortable and carefree is not what matters most in life. To be blessed is to receive God's favor, to trust God's promises, and to live in God's presence - even in the most unhappy times... Jesus' teachings turn natural expectations inside out. In Luke 6, he teaches that even the most painful situations, such as grief and poverty, may be occasions for blessing... The people most likely to be shunned and avoided are the very people to whom Jesus promises God's blessing. And the situations people most want to avoid are the very situations in which God may bless them... The comfort of the Holy Spirit is now, in the present moment, today."
huh.
If you'd been privy to the more personal things I've been thinking about the last few weeks, or even an ongoing conversation I've been having with God (and sometimes with a dear friend), you'd probably be laughing at me right now, or smiling at the way Jesus has once again chosen to make a point.
And so, I'm off to talk with Jesus again about trusting him with the journey I'm on and trusting specifically that he is indeed offering blessing. Even in the midst of some pretty gross things.
Tonight, both of those booklets caught deeply at my heart, challenging and pulling at me in the midst of a number of things I've been thinking about.
The first one is simply called "Places Along the Way" and explores in a scripture reading and short reflection various places - taking you on a Lenten journey if you will. Tonight's "stop" was Ur of the Chaldees. The place from which the Lord called Abraham out into the unknown. Into a journey of trust. "Go from your country to the land that I will show you." It always surprises me that Abraham went. I'd have been asking a lot of questions. "What land, Lord? What should I bring with me? Why there instead of here?" But Abraham packed everything up and headed out.
I've felt a bit like I've been journeying in the unknown this year. Certainly in the uncertain and unexpected. And trying to learn trust along the way. To really believe that Jesus doesn't have it in for me, and that he is holding and guiding and seeking to bless me in the midst of this.
That booklet closed with the following paragraph, which hit my heart deeply:
"We go out today and tomorrow not knowing where the steps will take us. We will be tempted to become attached to the wrong places and things. We are likely to put our minds on cities without foundations, built by humans who are destined to be dust. But the Christ of promise gives us the vision and confidence to walk in faith, with eyes fixed on the permanent."
The second book is simply titled "Journeying Through Lent with Luke," and tonight's passage looked at the first two beatitudes as Luke presents them: "God blesses you who are poor, for the Kingdom of God is yours. God blesses you who are hungry now, for you will be satisfied. God blesses you who weep now, for in due time you will laugh." (Luke 6:20-21 NLT)
Again, this has been a year where I've asked big questions about the blessings of God, and so the words of the author of this little Lenten book caught at me tonight. She writes:
"Being comfortable and carefree is not what matters most in life. To be blessed is to receive God's favor, to trust God's promises, and to live in God's presence - even in the most unhappy times... Jesus' teachings turn natural expectations inside out. In Luke 6, he teaches that even the most painful situations, such as grief and poverty, may be occasions for blessing... The people most likely to be shunned and avoided are the very people to whom Jesus promises God's blessing. And the situations people most want to avoid are the very situations in which God may bless them... The comfort of the Holy Spirit is now, in the present moment, today."
huh.
If you'd been privy to the more personal things I've been thinking about the last few weeks, or even an ongoing conversation I've been having with God (and sometimes with a dear friend), you'd probably be laughing at me right now, or smiling at the way Jesus has once again chosen to make a point.
And so, I'm off to talk with Jesus again about trusting him with the journey I'm on and trusting specifically that he is indeed offering blessing. Even in the midst of some pretty gross things.
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