I woke well before my alarm this morning.
But that was okay. Because, for the first time a week or so, I think I slept through the night. Well, without waking for at least four straight hours, possibly closer to six. There were still dreams, but they weren't the disturbing or unsettling sort. They weren't even the sort that I remembered.
Maybe it was the change of sheets on my bed.
Or just the timing of when I went to bed.
Or maybe it was that I took time to actually slow down and talk with Jesus for a little while last night before going to bed. To write in my journal, and pray through a verse of scripture that caught at me as I was reading.
Whatever it was, I didn't wake feeling too exhausted to move.
Don't get me wrong, I'm already yawning and feeling fatigued, but I slept, and I'm really grateful for that.
So, I'm praying that this will be a calm Wednesday.
I'm praying for a dear friend who is traveling today.
I'm looking forward to dinner and conversation and prayer with another friend tonight.
And I'm thankful for my new job, with lots of opportunity for variety and new challenges. With things that let me engage my brain.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The Cups of our Lives
several great inter-connected thoughts from Henri Nouwen...
The Cup of Life
When the mother of James and John asks Jesus to give her sons a special place in his Kingdom, Jesus responds, "Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?" (Matthew 20:22). "Can we drink the cup?" is the most challenging and radical question we can ask ourselves. The cup is the cup of life, full of sorrows and joys. Can we hold our cups and claim them as our own? Can we lift our cups to offer blessings to others, and can we drink our cups to the bottom as cups that bring us salvation?
Keeping this question alive in us is one of the most demanding spiritual exercises we can practice.
Holding the Cup
We all must hold the cups of our lives. As we grow older and become more fully aware of the many sorrows of life - personal failures, family conflicts, disappointments in work and social life, and the many pains surrounding us on the national and international scene - everything within and around us conspires to make us ignore, avoid, suppress, or simply deny these sorrows. "Look at the sunny side of life and make the best of it," we say to ourselves and hear others say to us. But when we want to drink the cups of our lives, we need first to hold them, to fully acknowledge what we are living, trusting that by not avoiding but befriending our sorrows we will discover the true joy we are looking for right in the midst of our sorrows.
Lifting the Cup
When we hold firm our cups of life, fully acknowledging their sorrows and joys, we will also be able to lift our cups in human solidarity. Lifting our cups means that we are not ashamed of what we are living, and this gesture encourages others to befriend their truths as we are trying to befriend ours. By lifting up our cups and saying to each other, "To life" or "To your health," we proclaim that we are willing to look truthfully at our lives together. Thus, we can become a community of people encouraging one another to fully drink the cups that have been given to us in the conviction that they will lead us to true fulfillment.
Drinking the Cup
After firmly holding the cups of our lives and lifting them up as signs of hope for others, we have to drink them. Drinking our cups means fully appropriating and interiorizing what each of has acknowledged as our life, with all its unique sorrows and joys.
How do we drink our cups? We drink them as we listen in silence to the truth of our lives, as we speak in trust with friends about ways we want to grow, and as we act in deeds of service. Drinking our cups is following freely and courageously God's call and staying faithfully on the path that is ours. Thus our life cups become the cups of salvation. When we have emptied them to the bottom, God will fill them with "water" for eternal life.
Emptiness and Fullness
Emptiness and fullness at first seem complete opposites. But in the spiritual life they are not. In the spiritual life we find the fulfillment of our deepest desires by becoming empty for God.
We must empty the cups of our lives completely to be able to receive the fullness of life from God. Jesus lived this on the cross. The moment of complete emptiness and complete fullness become the same. When he had given all away to his Abba, his dear Father, he cried out, "It is fulfilled" (John 19:30). He who was lifted up on the cross was also lifted into the resurrection. He who had emptied and humbled himself was raised up and "given the name above all other names" (see Philippians 2:7-9). Let us keep listening to Jesus' question: "Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?" (Matthew 20:22).
The Cup of Life
When the mother of James and John asks Jesus to give her sons a special place in his Kingdom, Jesus responds, "Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?" (Matthew 20:22). "Can we drink the cup?" is the most challenging and radical question we can ask ourselves. The cup is the cup of life, full of sorrows and joys. Can we hold our cups and claim them as our own? Can we lift our cups to offer blessings to others, and can we drink our cups to the bottom as cups that bring us salvation?
Keeping this question alive in us is one of the most demanding spiritual exercises we can practice.
Holding the Cup
We all must hold the cups of our lives. As we grow older and become more fully aware of the many sorrows of life - personal failures, family conflicts, disappointments in work and social life, and the many pains surrounding us on the national and international scene - everything within and around us conspires to make us ignore, avoid, suppress, or simply deny these sorrows. "Look at the sunny side of life and make the best of it," we say to ourselves and hear others say to us. But when we want to drink the cups of our lives, we need first to hold them, to fully acknowledge what we are living, trusting that by not avoiding but befriending our sorrows we will discover the true joy we are looking for right in the midst of our sorrows.
Lifting the Cup
When we hold firm our cups of life, fully acknowledging their sorrows and joys, we will also be able to lift our cups in human solidarity. Lifting our cups means that we are not ashamed of what we are living, and this gesture encourages others to befriend their truths as we are trying to befriend ours. By lifting up our cups and saying to each other, "To life" or "To your health," we proclaim that we are willing to look truthfully at our lives together. Thus, we can become a community of people encouraging one another to fully drink the cups that have been given to us in the conviction that they will lead us to true fulfillment.
Drinking the Cup
After firmly holding the cups of our lives and lifting them up as signs of hope for others, we have to drink them. Drinking our cups means fully appropriating and interiorizing what each of has acknowledged as our life, with all its unique sorrows and joys.
How do we drink our cups? We drink them as we listen in silence to the truth of our lives, as we speak in trust with friends about ways we want to grow, and as we act in deeds of service. Drinking our cups is following freely and courageously God's call and staying faithfully on the path that is ours. Thus our life cups become the cups of salvation. When we have emptied them to the bottom, God will fill them with "water" for eternal life.
Emptiness and Fullness
Emptiness and fullness at first seem complete opposites. But in the spiritual life they are not. In the spiritual life we find the fulfillment of our deepest desires by becoming empty for God.
We must empty the cups of our lives completely to be able to receive the fullness of life from God. Jesus lived this on the cross. The moment of complete emptiness and complete fullness become the same. When he had given all away to his Abba, his dear Father, he cried out, "It is fulfilled" (John 19:30). He who was lifted up on the cross was also lifted into the resurrection. He who had emptied and humbled himself was raised up and "given the name above all other names" (see Philippians 2:7-9). Let us keep listening to Jesus' question: "Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?" (Matthew 20:22).
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Switching It Up
I've spent part of the evening contemplating ways to find things I really love and enjoy again.
And ways to switch up my routine a little bit.
One of the things I came up with is audio books. I used to love listening to audio books. I'd play them all the time while I was cleaning, cooking, driving, taking the train, or whatever. That stopped somewhere along the way.
So, tonight, I went online, and, borrowing suggestions from two separate friends, purchased two audio books to listen to for the next little while.
One more serious, and one more lighthearted.
I've been needing lighthearted, and the more serious one comes rather highly (and perhaps pointedly) recommended.
I've been listening to a bit of the more lighthearted one, while I did some work online tonight, and quite thoroughly enjoying it. I'm sure at some point it'll become the subject for a future post.
And the more serious one I'll tackle sometime in the next few days. Maybe I'll go for a drive in the mountains on the weekend, and listen then. Or maybe I'll let the truths it contains play over me while I sleep at night (while of course planning to listen to it awake as well!)
And ways to switch up my routine a little bit.
One of the things I came up with is audio books. I used to love listening to audio books. I'd play them all the time while I was cleaning, cooking, driving, taking the train, or whatever. That stopped somewhere along the way.
So, tonight, I went online, and, borrowing suggestions from two separate friends, purchased two audio books to listen to for the next little while.
One more serious, and one more lighthearted.
I've been needing lighthearted, and the more serious one comes rather highly (and perhaps pointedly) recommended.
I've been listening to a bit of the more lighthearted one, while I did some work online tonight, and quite thoroughly enjoying it. I'm sure at some point it'll become the subject for a future post.
And the more serious one I'll tackle sometime in the next few days. Maybe I'll go for a drive in the mountains on the weekend, and listen then. Or maybe I'll let the truths it contains play over me while I sleep at night (while of course planning to listen to it awake as well!)
Quote for the Day
The calendar my friend gave me is still challenging me. Today, it's adding to the catharsis for my heart, serving as a reminder that this is really all I need to cling to.
"Christ alone is my life and my salvation." (Saint Agatha)
"Christ alone is my life and my salvation." (Saint Agatha)
Discombobulated Catharsis
I'm feeling a bit like my brain has taken leave of my body today. Discombobulated and scattered.
I was complaining about this fact to my roommate as I drove her to the train this morning, and she tried to encourage me by reminding me that if I can make it to Friday, this is a long weekend, and next week is a short work week. She laughed when I told her that work was the one thing I am consistently finding semi-enjoyable in life right now! Which should tell those of you who've been privy to some of the back story of my office politics and tensions for the last year just how much things have improved with the departure of a certain challenging coworker, and my assuming a new position and responsibilities at the office.
My body aches today. I've slept uncomfortably, tossing and turning for several straight nights, and my body is sore today from that. I also made the decision as my body heat fluctuated throughout the night last night that it is perhaps time to change the sheets on my bed from the flannel fall and winter ones to the soft cotton spring and summer set. So tonight, after work, and some errands, I'll go home and do that. Maybe it'll inspire a more restful sleep?
I spoke for a few hours on the phone with a dear friend last night. We ended up talking about some things I'd had no desire or plan to delve into. I'd had a rough few days and talking about those things was the last thing I really wanted to do. I was feeling sick of myself, and sick of feeling miserable, and exploring that was certainly not on my agenda. I wanted to hear about an upcoming trip she's making, and spend some time praying for her as she prepares to go. We talked about that, and prayed, true, but I wasn't prepared for the directions the rest of our conversation took. And I cried through much of it.
Which is probably partly why I'm feeling scattered and discombobulated this morning.
And yet, in some ways it was deeply cathartic too. She is one of the few people in my life who routinely invites tears. They seem to simply spill over when we talk or email, or spend time together in person. And perhaps, as my roommate (who'd seen the tears threatening on Sunday evening as we caught up on our weekends) was right in pointing out that I maybe needed to cry.
But I needed the sort of truth she spoke. The "pep talk" of sorts.
Because I've (to borrow a phrase my dad used back in his marathon running days) "hit the wall" with some of the changes I've been trying to implement in my life. The decisions designed to increase health and well-being. The initial drive to make them is gone, and the hard slogging has officially begun.
So I needed to hear her challenge to keep pushing towards those things. But also the grace and encouragment she offered.
So, today I'm existing in a state of discombobulate catharsis. And maybe that's okay too.
I was complaining about this fact to my roommate as I drove her to the train this morning, and she tried to encourage me by reminding me that if I can make it to Friday, this is a long weekend, and next week is a short work week. She laughed when I told her that work was the one thing I am consistently finding semi-enjoyable in life right now! Which should tell those of you who've been privy to some of the back story of my office politics and tensions for the last year just how much things have improved with the departure of a certain challenging coworker, and my assuming a new position and responsibilities at the office.
My body aches today. I've slept uncomfortably, tossing and turning for several straight nights, and my body is sore today from that. I also made the decision as my body heat fluctuated throughout the night last night that it is perhaps time to change the sheets on my bed from the flannel fall and winter ones to the soft cotton spring and summer set. So tonight, after work, and some errands, I'll go home and do that. Maybe it'll inspire a more restful sleep?
I spoke for a few hours on the phone with a dear friend last night. We ended up talking about some things I'd had no desire or plan to delve into. I'd had a rough few days and talking about those things was the last thing I really wanted to do. I was feeling sick of myself, and sick of feeling miserable, and exploring that was certainly not on my agenda. I wanted to hear about an upcoming trip she's making, and spend some time praying for her as she prepares to go. We talked about that, and prayed, true, but I wasn't prepared for the directions the rest of our conversation took. And I cried through much of it.
Which is probably partly why I'm feeling scattered and discombobulated this morning.
And yet, in some ways it was deeply cathartic too. She is one of the few people in my life who routinely invites tears. They seem to simply spill over when we talk or email, or spend time together in person. And perhaps, as my roommate (who'd seen the tears threatening on Sunday evening as we caught up on our weekends) was right in pointing out that I maybe needed to cry.
But I needed the sort of truth she spoke. The "pep talk" of sorts.
Because I've (to borrow a phrase my dad used back in his marathon running days) "hit the wall" with some of the changes I've been trying to implement in my life. The decisions designed to increase health and well-being. The initial drive to make them is gone, and the hard slogging has officially begun.
So I needed to hear her challenge to keep pushing towards those things. But also the grace and encouragment she offered.
So, today I'm existing in a state of discombobulate catharsis. And maybe that's okay too.
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