I'm telling you now that I must be one of the most easily bruised objects on the planet.
I bruise the way over-ripe fruit bruises.
After moving on Saturday, I woke up Sunday morning, headed for the shower, and noticed that all parts of my body are bruised. There are bruises on parts of my body that I don't remember coming in contact with anything over the course of moving.
Today, out of interest, I counted. There are 21 bruises (all relatively small and minor) spread across nearly my entire body. I look like someone beat me up with a tiny hammer.
Ah well... such is life I suppose.
Monday, June 30, 2008
The Scream
Artist Edvard Munch commented about the inspiration for this painting coming while he was out walking with two friends, "My friends walked on—I stood there, trembling with fear. And I sensed a great, infinite scream pass through nature."I was caught by that quote when it arrived in an email this morning.
I've sensed that scream at moments, in little ways.
I feel it myself a bit these days.
I'm caught by this painting today.
Three Words
How can three simple words be so profoundly calming and restorative?
He’s three. A bundle of energy and muscle. Always moving. Always intense. He waved at me when I walked in, and grinned from across the room, but was engrossed in a television show and didn’t come over to greet me.
When he finally came over, he motioned for me to come down to his level. I squatted, now eye-level with him, my knees nearly touching his.
He whispered. “I like you.” Except that he’s three, and it sounded more like “I ike you.”
My heart began to smile. It wasn't a fluke when he said it the last time I'd visited. It seems this is how I'm to be greeted by this child.
I asked him for a hug, and gathered his little body into my arms. “I like you too.” A quick tickle and I let him go.
Those three words went farther in that moment towards soothing my jangled soul than all the other things I’d tried or used to bring about that soothing on a day when much soothing was required.
I carry them with me, close to my heart into today, and this week, and this month.
He’s three. A bundle of energy and muscle. Always moving. Always intense. He waved at me when I walked in, and grinned from across the room, but was engrossed in a television show and didn’t come over to greet me.
When he finally came over, he motioned for me to come down to his level. I squatted, now eye-level with him, my knees nearly touching his.
He whispered. “I like you.” Except that he’s three, and it sounded more like “I ike you.”
My heart began to smile. It wasn't a fluke when he said it the last time I'd visited. It seems this is how I'm to be greeted by this child.
I asked him for a hug, and gathered his little body into my arms. “I like you too.” A quick tickle and I let him go.
Those three words went farther in that moment towards soothing my jangled soul than all the other things I’d tried or used to bring about that soothing on a day when much soothing was required.
I carry them with me, close to my heart into today, and this week, and this month.
Henri Again
A couple more thoughts from Henri Nouwen...
Downward Mobility
The society in which we live suggests in countless ways that the way to go is up. Making it to the top, entering the limelight, breaking the record - that's what draws attention, gets us on the front page of the newspaper, and offers us the rewards of money and fame.
The way of Jesus is radically different. It is the way not of upward mobility but of downward mobility. It is going to the bottom, staying behind the sets, and choosing the last place! Why is the way of Jesus worth choosing? Because it is the way to the Kingdom, the way Jesus took, and the way that brings everlasting life.
Taking Up Our Crosses
Jesus says: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him ... take up his cross and follow me" (Matthew 16:24). He does not say: "Make a cross" or "Look for a cross." Each of us has a cross to carry. There is no need to make one or look for one. The cross we have is hard enough for us! But are we willing to take it up, to accept it as our cross?
Maybe we can't study, maybe we are handicapped, maybe we suffer from depression, maybe we experience conflict in our families, maybe we are victims of violence or abuse. We didn't choose any of it, but these things are our crosses. We can ignore them, reject them, refuse them or hate them. But we can also take up these crosses and follow Jesus with them.
Downward Mobility
The society in which we live suggests in countless ways that the way to go is up. Making it to the top, entering the limelight, breaking the record - that's what draws attention, gets us on the front page of the newspaper, and offers us the rewards of money and fame.
The way of Jesus is radically different. It is the way not of upward mobility but of downward mobility. It is going to the bottom, staying behind the sets, and choosing the last place! Why is the way of Jesus worth choosing? Because it is the way to the Kingdom, the way Jesus took, and the way that brings everlasting life.
Taking Up Our Crosses
Jesus says: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him ... take up his cross and follow me" (Matthew 16:24). He does not say: "Make a cross" or "Look for a cross." Each of us has a cross to carry. There is no need to make one or look for one. The cross we have is hard enough for us! But are we willing to take it up, to accept it as our cross?
Maybe we can't study, maybe we are handicapped, maybe we suffer from depression, maybe we experience conflict in our families, maybe we are victims of violence or abuse. We didn't choose any of it, but these things are our crosses. We can ignore them, reject them, refuse them or hate them. But we can also take up these crosses and follow Jesus with them.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
In Between...
We got everything into storage.
I'm staying at my parent's house for a few days, in between losing the old house, and taking possession of the new house.
I spent most of the day by myself today.
In the mountains.
And a brief visit with friends.
It was a much needed break.
Back to work for tomorrow, then off on Tuesday for the Canada Day holiday and to begin settling into our new house.
I'm staying at my parent's house for a few days, in between losing the old house, and taking possession of the new house.
I spent most of the day by myself today.
In the mountains.
And a brief visit with friends.
It was a much needed break.
Back to work for tomorrow, then off on Tuesday for the Canada Day holiday and to begin settling into our new house.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Panic
Have I mentioned recently that I don't handle transition well?
In an hour I leave to pick up my mom, and go get the truck we're using to move.
I'm laying here on my mattress, on the floor of my boxed up and empty bedroom, fighting off a panic attack.
I started the morning off right by puking.
There are frightened tears running down my cheeks.
By tonight I'll be okay again.
And then I'll probably panic again on Tuesday.
I wonder sometimes where I learned to fear change.
I'd hoped this move would be a bit easier. After all, I've only lived in this place for a year. I lived in my previous home for nearly 24 years.
And yet, as I lay down to go to bed last night, all I could think was "this is the last night I'll spend here." And, "I feel safe here."
I fear the unknown.
I fear the new transit arrangements I'll have to figure out.
And the "differentness" of a new house, new bedroom, new street and neighborhood.
I'm exhausted. Three hours of sleep is not enough to have the energy to get through the day.
And I don't think I'm going to be able to eat either. My stomach remains extraordinarily unhappy with me.
I guess I'll just keep praying.
And stay hydrated. (In small sips, so it stays down).
Okay.
There's still packing to finish.
Here I go.
In an hour I leave to pick up my mom, and go get the truck we're using to move.
I'm laying here on my mattress, on the floor of my boxed up and empty bedroom, fighting off a panic attack.
I started the morning off right by puking.
There are frightened tears running down my cheeks.
By tonight I'll be okay again.
And then I'll probably panic again on Tuesday.
I wonder sometimes where I learned to fear change.
I'd hoped this move would be a bit easier. After all, I've only lived in this place for a year. I lived in my previous home for nearly 24 years.
And yet, as I lay down to go to bed last night, all I could think was "this is the last night I'll spend here." And, "I feel safe here."
I fear the unknown.
I fear the new transit arrangements I'll have to figure out.
And the "differentness" of a new house, new bedroom, new street and neighborhood.
I'm exhausted. Three hours of sleep is not enough to have the energy to get through the day.
And I don't think I'm going to be able to eat either. My stomach remains extraordinarily unhappy with me.
I guess I'll just keep praying.
And stay hydrated. (In small sips, so it stays down).
Okay.
There's still packing to finish.
Here I go.
Moving
Things may be a little quiet around here for the next week or so. Our move happens in approximately 11 hours. Which means I should be sleeping. But I'm not.
We move all of our things into storage at the new place tomorrow (today now, I guess).
But we don't actually take possession of the new place until noon on Tuesday.
So we're going to live in limbo and crash at my parent's place for a few days.
Which means I might be a little busy.
And that I probably won't get around to blogging for the next few days.
Ah well.
You'll survive without me I'm sure.
We move all of our things into storage at the new place tomorrow (today now, I guess).
But we don't actually take possession of the new place until noon on Tuesday.
So we're going to live in limbo and crash at my parent's place for a few days.
Which means I might be a little busy.
And that I probably won't get around to blogging for the next few days.
Ah well.
You'll survive without me I'm sure.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Interesting...
I found this article on the current controversy surrounding James Dobson and his comments earlier this week about Barack Obama quite interesting...
Do Over
Yesterday was maybe one of the worst days in recent record for me.
Anger, jealousy, resentment, frustration, exhaustion, hormones. All of them bubbled up and around and out of me in less than flattering ways. There were apologies to be made, and I spent much of my train commute home last night whining, and then confessing the sins of my day to Jesus.
After a full evening I collapsed in my chair and began to write. I don't like some of things inside me right now. They're honest questions, but they're being expressed in ugly ways, and I don't quite know how to handle them.
I could tell you that yesterday was particularly bad due to hormonal mood swings, and a situation at work that has been out of hand for months, and over-exhaustion from not sleeping for weeks at a time, and the fact that I do not handle transition well, and I'm in the midst of moving. All of those would be true statements, and all of them would be an attempt to rationalize sin.
I spent a long time sitting in that chair, with my journal, talking with Jesus. Confessing, and asking for forgiveness. Begging Him to hold me and to draw near to me in this space.
I passed a restless, nearly sleepless night. Sometimes laying there, sometimes praying.
Yesterday was a day in which I found myself wishing for a "do over."
I can't re-do yesterday, but I can learn from it.
I can choose differently today, though all of the same extenuating circumstances remain.
I can choose joy. And peace. And hope.
I can choose courage in the face of the fears that so completely overwhelm.
I can fight back as necessary, and choose to rest in a promise of a shield spoken over my life.
I can choose to remember that I am loved, that I have not been forgotten, by Jesus or those around me who walk out life with me, and encourage me to draw near to Jesus.
I can wait patiently for the tears to fall, and let them pour from me when they finally begin.
I can choose to believe that healing will come.
I found the following in my email inbox - the "Daily Text" from the Moravians for today:
The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him intruth. Psalm 145:18
Bartimaeus began to shout out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercyon me!" Jesus stood still and said, "Call him here." And they called theblind man, saying to him, "Take heart; get up, he is calling you." Mark 10:47,49
We are grateful to you, O God, for the blessing of your forgiveness. Wethank you that in Christ, you set us free from the guilt and blindnessof the past, and give us hope for the future. Amen.
Anger, jealousy, resentment, frustration, exhaustion, hormones. All of them bubbled up and around and out of me in less than flattering ways. There were apologies to be made, and I spent much of my train commute home last night whining, and then confessing the sins of my day to Jesus.
After a full evening I collapsed in my chair and began to write. I don't like some of things inside me right now. They're honest questions, but they're being expressed in ugly ways, and I don't quite know how to handle them.
I could tell you that yesterday was particularly bad due to hormonal mood swings, and a situation at work that has been out of hand for months, and over-exhaustion from not sleeping for weeks at a time, and the fact that I do not handle transition well, and I'm in the midst of moving. All of those would be true statements, and all of them would be an attempt to rationalize sin.
I spent a long time sitting in that chair, with my journal, talking with Jesus. Confessing, and asking for forgiveness. Begging Him to hold me and to draw near to me in this space.
I passed a restless, nearly sleepless night. Sometimes laying there, sometimes praying.
Yesterday was a day in which I found myself wishing for a "do over."
I can't re-do yesterday, but I can learn from it.
I can choose differently today, though all of the same extenuating circumstances remain.
I can choose joy. And peace. And hope.
I can choose courage in the face of the fears that so completely overwhelm.
I can fight back as necessary, and choose to rest in a promise of a shield spoken over my life.
I can choose to remember that I am loved, that I have not been forgotten, by Jesus or those around me who walk out life with me, and encourage me to draw near to Jesus.
I can wait patiently for the tears to fall, and let them pour from me when they finally begin.
I can choose to believe that healing will come.
I found the following in my email inbox - the "Daily Text" from the Moravians for today:
The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him intruth. Psalm 145:18
Bartimaeus began to shout out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercyon me!" Jesus stood still and said, "Call him here." And they called theblind man, saying to him, "Take heart; get up, he is calling you." Mark 10:47,49
We are grateful to you, O God, for the blessing of your forgiveness. Wethank you that in Christ, you set us free from the guilt and blindnessof the past, and give us hope for the future. Amen.
Spiritual Courage - Henri Nouwen
Another thought from Henri Nouwen...
Spiritual Courage
Courage is connected with taking risks. Jumping the Grand Canyon on a motorbike, coming over Niagara Falls in a barrel, or crossing the ocean in a rowboat are called courageous acts because people risk their lives by doing these things. But none of these daredevil acts comes from the centre of our being. They all come from the desire to test our physical limits and to become famous and popular.
Spiritual courage is something completely different. It is following the deepest desires of our hearts at the risk of losing fame and popularity. It asks of us the willingness to lose our temporal lives in order to gain eternal life.
Spiritual Courage
Courage is connected with taking risks. Jumping the Grand Canyon on a motorbike, coming over Niagara Falls in a barrel, or crossing the ocean in a rowboat are called courageous acts because people risk their lives by doing these things. But none of these daredevil acts comes from the centre of our being. They all come from the desire to test our physical limits and to become famous and popular.
Spiritual courage is something completely different. It is following the deepest desires of our hearts at the risk of losing fame and popularity. It asks of us the willingness to lose our temporal lives in order to gain eternal life.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wrestling
A friend of mine put up this post the other day. We’ve talked about it several times since. Every time I look at the picture, and read the post, I cry, or feel like crying.
I’m inhabiting a space with few words right now. Few words and lots of wrestling.
I’m wrestling as I watch friends find healing, and take steps towards God dreams in their lives. I find myself wondering if I’ve been forgotten.
I’m wrestling with the overwhelming full and loud silence.
I’m wrestling with loving, and being loved.
Jacob wrestled with the Lord until He was blessed.
I’m praying for that blessing to come.
I’m inhabiting a space with few words right now. Few words and lots of wrestling.
I’m wrestling as I watch friends find healing, and take steps towards God dreams in their lives. I find myself wondering if I’ve been forgotten.
I’m wrestling with the overwhelming full and loud silence.
I’m wrestling with loving, and being loved.
Jacob wrestled with the Lord until He was blessed.
I’m praying for that blessing to come.
Other Voices...
A few other voices that are catching my attention this morning:
We all blossom in the presence of one who sees the good in us and who can coax the best out of us.- Desmond Tutu (from an email from Sojourners)
Lord, we don't pretend to understand the complexity and precision ofyour ways. But we put our trust in you and your Son, Jesus Christ, tokeep us safe through the hard times to come. Amen. (From the Moravian Daily Texts)
We all blossom in the presence of one who sees the good in us and who can coax the best out of us.- Desmond Tutu (from an email from Sojourners)
Lord, we don't pretend to understand the complexity and precision ofyour ways. But we put our trust in you and your Son, Jesus Christ, tokeep us safe through the hard times to come. Amen. (From the Moravian Daily Texts)
A Courageous Life - Henri Nouwen
A Courageous Life
"Have courage," we often say to one another. Courage is a spiritual virtue. The word courage comes from the Latin word cor, which means "heart. A courageous act is an act coming from the heart. A courageous word is a word arising from the heart. The heart, however, is not just the place where our emotions are located. The heart is the centre of our being, the centre of all thoughts, feelings, passions, and decisions.
When the flesh - the lived human experience - becomes word, community can develop. When we say, "Let me tell you what we saw. Come and listen to what we did. Sit down and let me explain to you what happened to us. Wait until you hear whom we met," we call people together and make our lives into lives for others. The word brings us together and calls us into community. When the flesh becomes word, our bodies become part of a body of people.
"Have courage," we often say to one another. Courage is a spiritual virtue. The word courage comes from the Latin word cor, which means "heart. A courageous act is an act coming from the heart. A courageous word is a word arising from the heart. The heart, however, is not just the place where our emotions are located. The heart is the centre of our being, the centre of all thoughts, feelings, passions, and decisions.
When the flesh - the lived human experience - becomes word, community can develop. When we say, "Let me tell you what we saw. Come and listen to what we did. Sit down and let me explain to you what happened to us. Wait until you hear whom we met," we call people together and make our lives into lives for others. The word brings us together and calls us into community. When the flesh becomes word, our bodies become part of a body of people.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I Knew It Was Good for Me
I just read this article. It says that cookies and bread, eaten at the right moments can actually act as natural anti-depressants and/or sleep aids. And people have wondered why I was so devoted to my carbs throught the years!
Still Using Old Thoughts
I linked to this post yesterday too.
But I was re-reading it again this morning, looking at this list of things I'd set out for myself to do. Things that would let me embrace "being me" and the things I love and am passionate about. I wrote:
I'm going home with a renewed desire to experience life deeply. To pursue the things I'm interested in.
I'm going to take yoga, and photography. I'm going to learn Spanish. I'm going to continue to dream of ways to make it possible to continue to travel like this for lengths of time. I'm going to plan a trip to Peru. I'm going to work at allowing my heart to be open to the world. I'm going to pray about a trip to Africa. I'm going to figure out what it means to walk out who I really am in the context of my day to day life, and not just in the context of a month away from my routines, on the other side of the planet. I'm going to spend time with the friends I really value, and work on developing relationship with a few that I'd like to know better. I'm going to find people in Calgary to pray with on a regular basis.
I haven't been very successful at accomplishing this list, and, after the last several months, I'd probably change parts of it. But again, it's time to come through some things. Time to start thinking about what this sort of list looks like after the last several months, after being drawn into deep pain, and hearing the promise of deep healing to come.
So, if you'll forgive me for continuing to say little for a while, I'm going to reflect on this sort of list. I'm going to let my life and heart continue to be formed in a quieter space.
And if you hang around, I promise I'll supply you with quotes and links and thoughts from voices other than mine in the interim. (I've been reading a Jewish theologian lately, and have some great lines from one of his books to share with you later today or tomorrow.)
But I was re-reading it again this morning, looking at this list of things I'd set out for myself to do. Things that would let me embrace "being me" and the things I love and am passionate about. I wrote:
I'm going home with a renewed desire to experience life deeply. To pursue the things I'm interested in.
I'm going to take yoga, and photography. I'm going to learn Spanish. I'm going to continue to dream of ways to make it possible to continue to travel like this for lengths of time. I'm going to plan a trip to Peru. I'm going to work at allowing my heart to be open to the world. I'm going to pray about a trip to Africa. I'm going to figure out what it means to walk out who I really am in the context of my day to day life, and not just in the context of a month away from my routines, on the other side of the planet. I'm going to spend time with the friends I really value, and work on developing relationship with a few that I'd like to know better. I'm going to find people in Calgary to pray with on a regular basis.
I haven't been very successful at accomplishing this list, and, after the last several months, I'd probably change parts of it. But again, it's time to come through some things. Time to start thinking about what this sort of list looks like after the last several months, after being drawn into deep pain, and hearing the promise of deep healing to come.
So, if you'll forgive me for continuing to say little for a while, I'm going to reflect on this sort of list. I'm going to let my life and heart continue to be formed in a quieter space.
And if you hang around, I promise I'll supply you with quotes and links and thoughts from voices other than mine in the interim. (I've been reading a Jewish theologian lately, and have some great lines from one of his books to share with you later today or tomorrow.)
Words that Create Community - Henri Nouwen
Another great thought from Henri Nouwen
Words That Create Community
The word is always a word for others. Words need to be heard. When we give words to what we are living, these words need to be received and responded to. A speaker needs a listener. A writer needs a reader.
When the flesh - the lived human experience - becomes word, community can develop. When we say, "Let me tell you what we saw. Come and listen to what we did. Sit down and let me explain to you what happened to us. Wait until you hear whom we met," we call people together and make our lives into lives for others. The word brings us together and calls us into community. When the flesh becomes word, our bodies become part of a body of people.
Words That Create Community
The word is always a word for others. Words need to be heard. When we give words to what we are living, these words need to be received and responded to. A speaker needs a listener. A writer needs a reader.
When the flesh - the lived human experience - becomes word, community can develop. When we say, "Let me tell you what we saw. Come and listen to what we did. Sit down and let me explain to you what happened to us. Wait until you hear whom we met," we call people together and make our lives into lives for others. The word brings us together and calls us into community. When the flesh becomes word, our bodies become part of a body of people.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Bits and Pieces
I was looking through some blog posts and links I put up earlier this year...
Here are some bits and pieces that are poking at my heart this morning:
This cartoon at "The Naked Pastor"
This bit of a poem (from this post):
Bless the darkness around you.
That’s why you’re a poet.
As the night presses inward
you radiate beams of light.
VoznesekiÃ
This line (from this post), written just before I left Malta, which has turned out to be far more deeply true than I could have known:
There are new things springing up within me. Sometimes they scare me, sometimes they excite me. Generally they feel as if they are going to bring both great pain, and great beauty. But I think that all the really beautiful things in life do that.
Here are some bits and pieces that are poking at my heart this morning:
This cartoon at "The Naked Pastor"
This bit of a poem (from this post):
Bless the darkness around you.
That’s why you’re a poet.
As the night presses inward
you radiate beams of light.
VoznesekiÃ
This line (from this post), written just before I left Malta, which has turned out to be far more deeply true than I could have known:
There are new things springing up within me. Sometimes they scare me, sometimes they excite me. Generally they feel as if they are going to bring both great pain, and great beauty. But I think that all the really beautiful things in life do that.
A Wrestling Silence
A wrestling sort of silence has descended again, and I find myself with few words and the growing longing for the tears to come.
I wrote a dear friend this morning and told her that I was wishing we lived nearer to each other, that I simply wanted to rest my head in her lap and sob… to cry out all of the fear and pain and anger and just rest in her arms, being loved by her and by Jesus.
I’m still struck deeply by the words of others. By the things I’m reading. By books and emails and blog posts and news stories. Will you forgive me if I speak less and let them speak more on my blog for a while?
I need to take some time to be a bit quieter, to restlessly, painfully, let this silence exist inside me for a bit. To strain to hear the voice of Jesus, and to drown out all other voices that accuse and condemn.
I wrote a dear friend this morning and told her that I was wishing we lived nearer to each other, that I simply wanted to rest my head in her lap and sob… to cry out all of the fear and pain and anger and just rest in her arms, being loved by her and by Jesus.
I’m still struck deeply by the words of others. By the things I’m reading. By books and emails and blog posts and news stories. Will you forgive me if I speak less and let them speak more on my blog for a while?
I need to take some time to be a bit quieter, to restlessly, painfully, let this silence exist inside me for a bit. To strain to hear the voice of Jesus, and to drown out all other voices that accuse and condemn.
Flesh Become Word - Henri Nouwen
Flesh Become Word
The word must become flesh, but the flesh also must become word. It is not enough for us, as human beings, just to live. We also must give words to what we are living. If we do not speak what we are living, our lives lose their vitality and creativity. When we see a beautiful view, we search for words to express what we are seeing. When we meet a caring person, we want to speak about that meeting. When we are sorrowful or in great pain, we need to talk about it. When we are surprised by joy, we want to announce it!
Through the word, we appropriate and internalize what we are living. The word makes our experience truly human.
The word must become flesh, but the flesh also must become word. It is not enough for us, as human beings, just to live. We also must give words to what we are living. If we do not speak what we are living, our lives lose their vitality and creativity. When we see a beautiful view, we search for words to express what we are seeing. When we meet a caring person, we want to speak about that meeting. When we are sorrowful or in great pain, we need to talk about it. When we are surprised by joy, we want to announce it!
Through the word, we appropriate and internalize what we are living. The word makes our experience truly human.
Monday, June 23, 2008
A Question Regarding Voodoo
So, this struck me late last night, as I began another novel, published by a Christian publishing house.
Why are Christian novelists into writing about voodoo? I mean really? We need to read about this? Even from a "Christian" perspective?
This is at least the third or fourth novel I've encountered in the last while that has the main character interacting with voodoo, and someone who wants to put a curse on them. It's for certain at least the second one in my personal library that touches on the topic.
Is there really that great a demand for this?
(I'm not certain I'm going to carry on with reading this particular novel. I bought it because it is a part of a series I've greatly enjoyed, but with the way I'm sensitive to stuff like this, and the way I get nightmares, I'm not sure it's the best plan on earth for me to keep reading this.)
Why are Christian novelists into writing about voodoo? I mean really? We need to read about this? Even from a "Christian" perspective?
This is at least the third or fourth novel I've encountered in the last while that has the main character interacting with voodoo, and someone who wants to put a curse on them. It's for certain at least the second one in my personal library that touches on the topic.
Is there really that great a demand for this?
(I'm not certain I'm going to carry on with reading this particular novel. I bought it because it is a part of a series I've greatly enjoyed, but with the way I'm sensitive to stuff like this, and the way I get nightmares, I'm not sure it's the best plan on earth for me to keep reading this.)
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)
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
Sunday, June 22, 2008
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 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.
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.
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.)
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.)
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Accomplished
Besides the quiet, and the waiting that I already talked about, I feel like this has been a relatively productive day.
I've:
I've:
- had a massage
- cleaned my closet and dresser
- pared two garbage bags of clothes out of my wardrobe and gotten them ready to take to a consignment store that will give anything they don't sell to charity
- gone through several stacks of paper on my desk
- arranged to have my cable service, my phone, and my internet moved to my new house when I move to my new house
- been to the library
- bought a tin of loose tea
- folded a bit of laundry
- read part of a novel
- listened to one chapter of scripture on cd
- called to get information regarding hooking up utility service (gas, electricity, water) for our new house
Waiting for change...
This has been a quiet day.
I left the house before my roommates were awake this morning. Headed out for an appointment for a massage.
After the massage came the library, then home briefly, before heading out to an art/handicraft sale in Kensington with a friend. Bought a tin of tea from a friend who sells quite nice fair-trade, organic teas. After the sale we ate nachos in a Mexican restaurant and caught up. We walked a little, and headed home.
I made a mistake exacerbated by my fair skin today. I didn't wear sunscreen, and since a sunburn often doesn't show up on my skin until hours later, I am just beginning to pay the price, and don't know yet what the full extent of the damage will be. However, I made one even more calculated error. Not only did I fail to apply sunscreen, but I went out with the remnants of massage oil still covering every inch of my skin. So I may have exacerbated the burning a little. Oh well... I suppose that's what God made aloe vera for.
I feel a bit as if a blanket of silence has descended.
As if I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I wrestle still with some big things. And I guess that's going to have to be okay.
I'm praying still for the season to shift. I need some changes to occur.
In the meantime, I'm trying to wait patiently. To pray with the friends that offer. To spend time with the people with whom I am able to be at least partially myself, without masks.
To work on the list of dozens of things that need to be accomplished before we move next weekend.
To find rest in the fleeting moments that it comes.
To pray.
To read.
To listen.
To think.
To wait.
(and hopefully, soon, to cry.)
I'm tired. And I need change to come. I'm longing with an inner groaning that I don't know how to express.
It will come.
It has to.
I left the house before my roommates were awake this morning. Headed out for an appointment for a massage.
After the massage came the library, then home briefly, before heading out to an art/handicraft sale in Kensington with a friend. Bought a tin of tea from a friend who sells quite nice fair-trade, organic teas. After the sale we ate nachos in a Mexican restaurant and caught up. We walked a little, and headed home.
I made a mistake exacerbated by my fair skin today. I didn't wear sunscreen, and since a sunburn often doesn't show up on my skin until hours later, I am just beginning to pay the price, and don't know yet what the full extent of the damage will be. However, I made one even more calculated error. Not only did I fail to apply sunscreen, but I went out with the remnants of massage oil still covering every inch of my skin. So I may have exacerbated the burning a little. Oh well... I suppose that's what God made aloe vera for.
I feel a bit as if a blanket of silence has descended.
As if I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I wrestle still with some big things. And I guess that's going to have to be okay.
I'm praying still for the season to shift. I need some changes to occur.
In the meantime, I'm trying to wait patiently. To pray with the friends that offer. To spend time with the people with whom I am able to be at least partially myself, without masks.
To work on the list of dozens of things that need to be accomplished before we move next weekend.
To find rest in the fleeting moments that it comes.
To pray.
To read.
To listen.
To think.
To wait.
(and hopefully, soon, to cry.)
I'm tired. And I need change to come. I'm longing with an inner groaning that I don't know how to express.
It will come.
It has to.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Sigh
I melted down, just a little when I got home from work tonight. More tears than in a long time, but still not the sobbing release that I'm longing for.
Then, I went back to avoidance. I'm very good at avoidance. I'm not very good at lying to myself.
I went to the mall. I got starbucks. I came home and ate dinner. Watched an episode or two of the West Wing on dvd. Took a long, hot bath with the novel I'm currently reading. And all I could think through all of these things I love was that I was avoiding talking with Jesus.
Because, you see, I really didn't want to meet with Jesus at the end of a long day. I wondered if he'd show up. I wondered what kind of pain might come with meeting him.
So the night wore on, and I began to realize something. I complain all the time about the nights on end where I sleep poorly. When I'm avoiding, I'm guaranteed to sleep even more poorly than usual.
So, I spent time on the floor. Waiting, and listening.
Did He show up? I'm not sure, but at least, for 30 minutes or so, I wasn't avoiding. And hopefully that means I'll catch at least a little bit of sleep tonight.
Then, I went back to avoidance. I'm very good at avoidance. I'm not very good at lying to myself.
I went to the mall. I got starbucks. I came home and ate dinner. Watched an episode or two of the West Wing on dvd. Took a long, hot bath with the novel I'm currently reading. And all I could think through all of these things I love was that I was avoiding talking with Jesus.
Because, you see, I really didn't want to meet with Jesus at the end of a long day. I wondered if he'd show up. I wondered what kind of pain might come with meeting him.
So the night wore on, and I began to realize something. I complain all the time about the nights on end where I sleep poorly. When I'm avoiding, I'm guaranteed to sleep even more poorly than usual.
So, I spent time on the floor. Waiting, and listening.
Did He show up? I'm not sure, but at least, for 30 minutes or so, I wasn't avoiding. And hopefully that means I'll catch at least a little bit of sleep tonight.
Not Sure What to Say
I'm not actually sure what I want to say to you all right now.
I'm tired.
This has been another one of the hard days. (Though thankfully not quite so hard as others this week.)
I'm tired of the hard days.
My neck and spine ache.
I have a headache. A bad one.
I'm going to see if I can buy an audio Bible tonight. For two reasons. The first is that I've realized I cling to scripture, but I've been too exhausted to read and absorb lately, and I'm hoping that listening will do the trick. The other is that I fall asleep with a book or a sermon on cd playing nearly every night, and I like the idea of scripture playing over me as I try to sleep.
I'm not sure I'll actually buy one. I'm a bit ambivalent about spending the money right now.
I should really attack any number of projects once I get home tonight, but I think I'm going to take a night off. Light some candles, maybe some incense, and curl up in a chair and do something mindless for a while. Maybe lay on my floor and talk with Jesus. Maybe do a bit of reading. Maybe just a bubble bath and then attack the project of beginning to pack for our move. Either way, I need a bit of down time.
I'm tired.
This has been another one of the hard days. (Though thankfully not quite so hard as others this week.)
I'm tired of the hard days.
My neck and spine ache.
I have a headache. A bad one.
I'm going to see if I can buy an audio Bible tonight. For two reasons. The first is that I've realized I cling to scripture, but I've been too exhausted to read and absorb lately, and I'm hoping that listening will do the trick. The other is that I fall asleep with a book or a sermon on cd playing nearly every night, and I like the idea of scripture playing over me as I try to sleep.
I'm not sure I'll actually buy one. I'm a bit ambivalent about spending the money right now.
I should really attack any number of projects once I get home tonight, but I think I'm going to take a night off. Light some candles, maybe some incense, and curl up in a chair and do something mindless for a while. Maybe lay on my floor and talk with Jesus. Maybe do a bit of reading. Maybe just a bubble bath and then attack the project of beginning to pack for our move. Either way, I need a bit of down time.
To Do
These are the things I need to get done today or at least this weekend (personally and professionally both):
- phone Christian Publications (the downtown location)
- go to Christian Publications after work (assuming the phone call produces the needed results)
- check the status of my bank account
- make a credit card payment
- talk to J. and L. about being reimbursed for a portion of the deposit I put on our new house last weekend
- begin packing for our upcoming move (only really a week away)
- go to the library to return some books and pick up some I've ordered in
- go through my clothes and pare down
- take the pared down ones to a consignment shop that will donate anything they don't sell to charity
- look up "spiritual temperments" which my brother mentioned to me and managed to intrigue me with
- do some research on Archbishop Oscar Romero
- Email T., who is in England at the moment
- make sure I have the phone numbers for both our current and our new landlord stored in my cell phone
- Call my aunt to wish her "happy birthday" and to see if we can borrow her truck to move next weekend
- visit some stores to see if we can get boxes for moving (liquor stores work great for this)
- check on my cable bill
- spend some time laying on my floor again, waiting
- create a labelling method for our commercial department's new files
- design a layout for the company's spring newsletter, to be mailed to 5000 policyholders soon
- create a new set of receipt numbers for our personal policies department
- order a printer cartridge
That's it. For the moment anyway. Groceries were on that list yesterday, but M. and I went grocery shopping after we were at the bookstore last night. (I love that my best friend indulges my need to do errands and lets me take advantage of her wheels!)
Tight-Knit Community
I mentioned earlier this week that someone with whom I have some vague connections was killed in a car accident.
I'd forgotten what a small community the Young Life world really is, and I've watched and prayed this week as a wide variety of people I know and know of, spread across the country, have responded to this tragedy.
It's left me wondering what sort of ripple it would make if I were to die suddenly. I've been lonely and isolated lately. Not sure that's a healthy thing, and not entirely sure that I'm ready to come out of that isolation either. My soul still feels pretty bruised. But I'm hoping it will soon be time to emerge.
The obituary for Julian Dabbagh can be found here.
I'd forgotten what a small community the Young Life world really is, and I've watched and prayed this week as a wide variety of people I know and know of, spread across the country, have responded to this tragedy.
It's left me wondering what sort of ripple it would make if I were to die suddenly. I've been lonely and isolated lately. Not sure that's a healthy thing, and not entirely sure that I'm ready to come out of that isolation either. My soul still feels pretty bruised. But I'm hoping it will soon be time to emerge.
The obituary for Julian Dabbagh can be found here.
Speaking at the Right Time
From Henri Nouwen again:
Right Living and Right Speaking
To be a witness for God is to be a living sign of God's presence in the world. What we live is more important than what we say, because the right way of living always leads to the right way of speaking. When we forgive our neighbours from our hearts, our hearts will speak forgiving words. When we are grateful, we will speak grateful words, and when we are hopeful and joyful, we will speak hopeful and joyful words.
When our words come too soon and we are not yet living what we are saying, we easily give double messages. Giving double messages - one with our words and another with our actions - makes us hypocrites. May our lives give us the right words and may our words lead us to the right life.
Right Living and Right Speaking
To be a witness for God is to be a living sign of God's presence in the world. What we live is more important than what we say, because the right way of living always leads to the right way of speaking. When we forgive our neighbours from our hearts, our hearts will speak forgiving words. When we are grateful, we will speak grateful words, and when we are hopeful and joyful, we will speak hopeful and joyful words.
When our words come too soon and we are not yet living what we are saying, we easily give double messages. Giving double messages - one with our words and another with our actions - makes us hypocrites. May our lives give us the right words and may our words lead us to the right life.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Buying Books
I've been so much in survival mode this last while, spending so much time just trying to make it through from one day to the next that I've stopped reading anything that challenges me to think. I've been reading almost exclusively novels (which I love, and which have often challenged me as well). But I've been reading novels as a way to escape reality.
And now, now I'm ready to challenge myself again. I'd like to read stuff that will make me see the world from a variety of angles. I want to challenge the way I think about things, and get as much information as possible on the things that fascinate me and are deeply important to me.
My best friend and I went to a local Christian bookstore that's closing at the end of the month tonight. Time to shop the sales.
I came home with the following stack of books:
Through Painted Deserts (audio) Donald Miller
Grown (Kendall Payne) - a favorite artist of mine
Dark Night of the Soul (St. John of the Cross)
The Voice Revealed - The True Story of the Last Eyewitness (Chris Seay)
Toward Jerusalem (Amy Carmichael)
A Quarter After Tuesday (Jo Kadlecek - a novel)
Healing Stones (Nancy Rue & Stephen Arteburn - a novel)
Eat this Book (Eugene H. Peterson)
Discipleship (Dietrich Bonhoeffer)
The Prophetic Imagination (Walter Brueggemann)
Finding Our Way Again: The Return of the Ancient Practices (Brian McLaren)
Making Peace With a Dangerous God: Wrestling With What We Don't Understand (Linda Clare & Kristen Johnson Ingram)
Whoohoo! Here's to many hours to come curled up in my favorite chair, reading!
And now, now I'm ready to challenge myself again. I'd like to read stuff that will make me see the world from a variety of angles. I want to challenge the way I think about things, and get as much information as possible on the things that fascinate me and are deeply important to me.
My best friend and I went to a local Christian bookstore that's closing at the end of the month tonight. Time to shop the sales.
I came home with the following stack of books:
Through Painted Deserts (audio) Donald Miller
Grown (Kendall Payne) - a favorite artist of mine
Dark Night of the Soul (St. John of the Cross)
The Voice Revealed - The True Story of the Last Eyewitness (Chris Seay)
Toward Jerusalem (Amy Carmichael)
A Quarter After Tuesday (Jo Kadlecek - a novel)
Healing Stones (Nancy Rue & Stephen Arteburn - a novel)
Eat this Book (Eugene H. Peterson)
Discipleship (Dietrich Bonhoeffer)
The Prophetic Imagination (Walter Brueggemann)
Finding Our Way Again: The Return of the Ancient Practices (Brian McLaren)
Making Peace With a Dangerous God: Wrestling With What We Don't Understand (Linda Clare & Kristen Johnson Ingram)
Whoohoo! Here's to many hours to come curled up in my favorite chair, reading!
Repetition
I’m thinking today about repetition.
About how, sometimes, I need to hear and see and do something over and over and over again for it to become real – for it to sink into the depths of my being and make a home there.
When a song or an album catches my heart, I will play it over and over and over again, until even I’m sick of it, but the messages that so grabbed me have begun to sink in.
There are books like this too. If you look in the sidebar at the list of books I’ve read this year, you’ll notice that there are two or three that I have indicated that I have read multiple times through. That’s not because the stories were particularly stunning (though they were well-crafted). It’s because something in the message of the book spoke to the depths of my heart, to the questions and the concerns, and the desires, and I needed to repeat the experience of reading it, and let it sink in.
I have a dear friend who lives in another part of the country, with whom I talk via email, online chats, or the phone, nearly every day. In the darkest moments, when nothing can penetrate, we talk. She speaks truth. And it usually takes a while for it to get through to my heart, to encourage me and pull me out of the heavy spots. But generally, by the time we finish talking (and sometimes praying) together, the truth in her words has begun to sink in, and I am able to regroup.
I’m thinking about repetition, and how glad I am that it’s an option.
How deeply needed it is.
About how, sometimes, I need to hear and see and do something over and over and over again for it to become real – for it to sink into the depths of my being and make a home there.
When a song or an album catches my heart, I will play it over and over and over again, until even I’m sick of it, but the messages that so grabbed me have begun to sink in.
There are books like this too. If you look in the sidebar at the list of books I’ve read this year, you’ll notice that there are two or three that I have indicated that I have read multiple times through. That’s not because the stories were particularly stunning (though they were well-crafted). It’s because something in the message of the book spoke to the depths of my heart, to the questions and the concerns, and the desires, and I needed to repeat the experience of reading it, and let it sink in.
I have a dear friend who lives in another part of the country, with whom I talk via email, online chats, or the phone, nearly every day. In the darkest moments, when nothing can penetrate, we talk. She speaks truth. And it usually takes a while for it to get through to my heart, to encourage me and pull me out of the heavy spots. But generally, by the time we finish talking (and sometimes praying) together, the truth in her words has begun to sink in, and I am able to regroup.
I’m thinking about repetition, and how glad I am that it’s an option.
How deeply needed it is.
Another "Foot' Article
Another article on the feet that seem to be washing ashore on Canada's west coast.
Vindicated
Okay, so I'm feeling just a little bit catty, and a lot vindicated just at the moment.
I arrived at the office to find a voicemail from my troublesome colleague. She's out sick today, but wanted to let me know what had happened with the package that starred in yesterday's rant. It would seem that I was correct. That there was a problem with the address, and that we had to pay for the package to be returned to us. That Canada Post charges return shipping to the sender if an address is incorrect. She wanted to let me know that the package and the receipt for yesterday's payment was safe, and she would return them to the office when she returns.
Can I point out again that I WAS RIGHT?
And, that if she'd just trusted that, and let me handle the situation, instead of the package sitting in her car or her house today, I could be re-addressing and re-posting it, and getting it on it's way.
It would seem that when my boss returns from her business trip next week, we will be having another conversation about this coworker. I've had this conversation on a nearly weekly basis for the last two months. "(said person) has sought to undermine me, again." Nothing changes. Not sure anymore if that's bad management, or simply that this woman is unwilling to hear and change.
Either way, I am increasingly convinced that I am going to need to leave a job that I have greatly enjoyed, a job where I love being with 99% of the coworkers, in favor of something that won't require me to have these sorts of weekly conversations, that won't irk me so deeply.
I arrived at the office to find a voicemail from my troublesome colleague. She's out sick today, but wanted to let me know what had happened with the package that starred in yesterday's rant. It would seem that I was correct. That there was a problem with the address, and that we had to pay for the package to be returned to us. That Canada Post charges return shipping to the sender if an address is incorrect. She wanted to let me know that the package and the receipt for yesterday's payment was safe, and she would return them to the office when she returns.
Can I point out again that I WAS RIGHT?
And, that if she'd just trusted that, and let me handle the situation, instead of the package sitting in her car or her house today, I could be re-addressing and re-posting it, and getting it on it's way.
It would seem that when my boss returns from her business trip next week, we will be having another conversation about this coworker. I've had this conversation on a nearly weekly basis for the last two months. "(said person) has sought to undermine me, again." Nothing changes. Not sure anymore if that's bad management, or simply that this woman is unwilling to hear and change.
Either way, I am increasingly convinced that I am going to need to leave a job that I have greatly enjoyed, a job where I love being with 99% of the coworkers, in favor of something that won't require me to have these sorts of weekly conversations, that won't irk me so deeply.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Rant!
To be honest, I've cooled off a lot since this afternoon. I talked with a dear friend for a long time tonight about far more important things than this, but I still have a bit of the rant in me and thought I'd share!
Okay, so here's my first question. Do I have a sign on me somewhere that I can't see? A sign that reads "I cannot be trusted to do my job well?"
Because I'd like to think that nearly two years in, I"m pretty good at my job. I know the volunteers by their voice on the phone. I handle each and every problem that gets dropped on my desk with what I hope is skill and aplomb. And yet, there's this one coworker who seems to take delight in undermining my decisions time after time.
Take today, for example.
We had a package returned to us today, with money due. This is rather unusual. I arranged for the excess postage to be paid out of petty cash, and made plans to phone Canada Post to see if I could discover why the package had been returned. This particular coworker came to ask me which package had been returned. You see, it's her job to take the packages that are too heavy for me to put the postage on in our office to the post office, and mail them. She had apparently questioned the post office worker about the way he measured this particular package. I took in the information and then let her know that I would follow up with Canada Post.
She went for lunch, and when she came back explained that she had gone to the post office, and could she please have the package, because she would go back and handle the issue with the woman at the post office later in the day.
So not impressed.
What part of "I'll call Canada Post to follow up" was hard to understand?
If this had been the first time, that would be one thing, but seriously, I think this woman is convinced I have no brain. She seems to go out of her way to undermine me at every turn. She's nearly impossible to work with, despite many of my best efforts, and it's beginning to look like ultimately I will need to look for a new job in large part because of the difficulty in working semi-closely with her.
And can I just say that I am only one of many staff members who have had this problem with this woman?
The biggest frustration for me in the midst of this work situation? Because I work for a Christian company, when the personality conflict became obvious, our boss called a department meeting to "hash things out" and essentially told us that we were "bad christians" because there was personality conflict. I think I'd rather work for a secular company. No dragging my faith into personal preferences.
And also, can I just say that I have done everything in my power to work smoothly with this woman for the last month or two? I have been polite, compliant, (yes, distant), and have rarely complained.
But I'm tired of it now.
And, part two.
Is it really that difficult to plan ahead? I mean really?
And if you can't plan ahead, could you at least not make someone else suffer because of your lack of planning?
At 2:30 this afternoon I received a list of 23 documents (several of which were multiple pages long) of which I needed to make 18 copies of each, and then assemble training packages for an out of town volunteer training session, by the end of the day. (The day ends at 4:30).
I got it done. A minor clerical miracle. I do that for this company kind of a lot. Not that they generally notice. They do say thank you, but they don't realize quite how much I pull off. They don't tend to realize that copying 23 separate documents, onto a variety of different colored papers, collating them, assembling them into an order, and into portfolios to create a training package, complete with two business cards attached to each porfolio, takes time, and that it is not generally something that just anyone could pull together on that short notice.
Ah well... tomorrow is another day I guess.
Here's hoping it's smoother than today.
Okay, so here's my first question. Do I have a sign on me somewhere that I can't see? A sign that reads "I cannot be trusted to do my job well?"
Because I'd like to think that nearly two years in, I"m pretty good at my job. I know the volunteers by their voice on the phone. I handle each and every problem that gets dropped on my desk with what I hope is skill and aplomb. And yet, there's this one coworker who seems to take delight in undermining my decisions time after time.
Take today, for example.
We had a package returned to us today, with money due. This is rather unusual. I arranged for the excess postage to be paid out of petty cash, and made plans to phone Canada Post to see if I could discover why the package had been returned. This particular coworker came to ask me which package had been returned. You see, it's her job to take the packages that are too heavy for me to put the postage on in our office to the post office, and mail them. She had apparently questioned the post office worker about the way he measured this particular package. I took in the information and then let her know that I would follow up with Canada Post.
She went for lunch, and when she came back explained that she had gone to the post office, and could she please have the package, because she would go back and handle the issue with the woman at the post office later in the day.
So not impressed.
What part of "I'll call Canada Post to follow up" was hard to understand?
If this had been the first time, that would be one thing, but seriously, I think this woman is convinced I have no brain. She seems to go out of her way to undermine me at every turn. She's nearly impossible to work with, despite many of my best efforts, and it's beginning to look like ultimately I will need to look for a new job in large part because of the difficulty in working semi-closely with her.
And can I just say that I am only one of many staff members who have had this problem with this woman?
The biggest frustration for me in the midst of this work situation? Because I work for a Christian company, when the personality conflict became obvious, our boss called a department meeting to "hash things out" and essentially told us that we were "bad christians" because there was personality conflict. I think I'd rather work for a secular company. No dragging my faith into personal preferences.
And also, can I just say that I have done everything in my power to work smoothly with this woman for the last month or two? I have been polite, compliant, (yes, distant), and have rarely complained.
But I'm tired of it now.
And, part two.
Is it really that difficult to plan ahead? I mean really?
And if you can't plan ahead, could you at least not make someone else suffer because of your lack of planning?
At 2:30 this afternoon I received a list of 23 documents (several of which were multiple pages long) of which I needed to make 18 copies of each, and then assemble training packages for an out of town volunteer training session, by the end of the day. (The day ends at 4:30).
I got it done. A minor clerical miracle. I do that for this company kind of a lot. Not that they generally notice. They do say thank you, but they don't realize quite how much I pull off. They don't tend to realize that copying 23 separate documents, onto a variety of different colored papers, collating them, assembling them into an order, and into portfolios to create a training package, complete with two business cards attached to each porfolio, takes time, and that it is not generally something that just anyone could pull together on that short notice.
Ah well... tomorrow is another day I guess.
Here's hoping it's smoother than today.
Updated Headline
They found another severed foot today. It just kind of floated ashore. That makes two in two days. Don't know why this keeps hitting me, but it does.
Latest headline here.
Latest headline here.
Ranting
For the last couple of days I have been in full ranting form for anyone who would care to listen. One or two very gracious friends listened while I vented, effectively letting me blow off some steam.
I am back to full form, and nearly ready to explode just presently.
Let's just say that I am underappreciated at my office, and am about to pull off a miracle of clerical work, and no one will notice, because it's their poor planning that has made it necessary for me to work miracles.
Full rant to come perhaps.
I am back to full form, and nearly ready to explode just presently.
Let's just say that I am underappreciated at my office, and am about to pull off a miracle of clerical work, and no one will notice, because it's their poor planning that has made it necessary for me to work miracles.
Full rant to come perhaps.
A Few Links
I woke up to the news of this on the radio yesterday morning. It's hard for me to explain why this is so attention getting to me right now, but it is.
And, author of the "Christian Culture Survival Guide" (a book I highly recommend if you like very sarcastic, tongue in cheek humor), Matthew Paul Turner, posted a letter to his soon to be born son on his blog recently. Poignant and funny, I thought I'd share the link with all of you!
And, author of the "Christian Culture Survival Guide" (a book I highly recommend if you like very sarcastic, tongue in cheek humor), Matthew Paul Turner, posted a letter to his soon to be born son on his blog recently. Poignant and funny, I thought I'd share the link with all of you!
We are the Glory of God - Henri Nouwen
Another thought from Henri Nouwen:
We Are the Glory of God
Living a spiritual life is living a life in which our spirits and the Spirit of God bear a joint witness that we belong to God as God's beloved children, (see Romans 8:16). This witness involves every aspect of our lives. Paul says: "Whatever you eat, then, or drink, and whatever else you do, do it all for the glory of God" (Romans 10:31). And we are the glory of God when we give full visibility to the freedom of the children of God.
When we live in communion with God's Spirit, we can only be witnesses, because wherever we go and whomever we meet, God's Spirit will manifest itself through us.
We Are the Glory of God
Living a spiritual life is living a life in which our spirits and the Spirit of God bear a joint witness that we belong to God as God's beloved children, (see Romans 8:16). This witness involves every aspect of our lives. Paul says: "Whatever you eat, then, or drink, and whatever else you do, do it all for the glory of God" (Romans 10:31). And we are the glory of God when we give full visibility to the freedom of the children of God.
When we live in communion with God's Spirit, we can only be witnesses, because wherever we go and whomever we meet, God's Spirit will manifest itself through us.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Rescued From Myself
Every once in a while (maybe once or twice a month) I have a day that is entirely brutal. A day where nothing I do or say can hide the fact that my internal life that day is a mess. That I'm lost, confused, exhausted, sad, and sometimes even hopeless. Friday was one of those days.
Most days I can cope with the heaviest of heavy stuff. I can do my job, and seem normal, while being entirely broken inside.
I thought today was one of those days.
But, things kept getting worse. I was brooding and the stormy swirl of thoughts was growing larger and overwhelming by the minute.
Then Faye walked in the door of my office. She occasionally drops by to see if I'm free for lunch.
She did, and I was.
I needed rescuing from myself. I needed to not talk about myself, or my pain, or anything having to do with any number of situations that have ultimately resulted in my messy internal state.
Faye provided that rescue today.
And I laughed so hard at her recounting of certain recent events in her life that I nearly choked on my food and fell off my chair. For an hour I laughed.
And I feel oddly restored. Like I can make it through the remainder of the workday, until it's safe to go home and fall apart.
Most days I can cope with the heaviest of heavy stuff. I can do my job, and seem normal, while being entirely broken inside.
I thought today was one of those days.
But, things kept getting worse. I was brooding and the stormy swirl of thoughts was growing larger and overwhelming by the minute.
Then Faye walked in the door of my office. She occasionally drops by to see if I'm free for lunch.
She did, and I was.
I needed rescuing from myself. I needed to not talk about myself, or my pain, or anything having to do with any number of situations that have ultimately resulted in my messy internal state.
Faye provided that rescue today.
And I laughed so hard at her recounting of certain recent events in her life that I nearly choked on my food and fell off my chair. For an hour I laughed.
And I feel oddly restored. Like I can make it through the remainder of the workday, until it's safe to go home and fall apart.
Those who know brokenness...
This article about war veterans from Vietnam reaching out to veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan fascinated me.
Those who know brokenness coming alongside those who are broken, and helping to piece lives together again.
Seems there are parallels for the spiritual life to be considered.
Those who know brokenness coming alongside those who are broken, and helping to piece lives together again.
Seems there are parallels for the spiritual life to be considered.
Paradoxes (or “I Can’t Have It Both Ways Can I?)
Combatant prince, O come to me,
No weak, peaceful Brother disgraced.
A dead cold body hung on a tree.
This is not what I came to see.
(http://blog.beliefnet.com/godspolitics/2008/06/when-a-eucharist-of-humility-i.html)
I’m going back and forth this morning. I want it both ways.
I want the gentle, healing way. The way that a friend and I have talked about for months now. Gentle encounter. Healing in the midst of worship. Less warlike, and more filled with adoration. The way that defined my healing from depression nearly three years ago.
And yet, I want the warlike way as well. I want the Jesus who protects, who guards, who defends, who goes to battle on my behalf. I want a Jesus who will order the things tormenting me through these last days and months to leave. Not a Jesus who says, “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”
I want to be totally defended, to rest in the knowledge that I am protected. I also want to defend myself.
There is this shield picture spoken over my life, and I find myself struggling with it. The posture required of me to be protected by the shield held over me is one where I am defenseless. Laid out on my face, curled into a ball. There is no way to move quickly from that position. No way to defend myself. There is a trust required in it that is hard for me. To trust that that shield will be enough. That I am protected. To relinquish control of that.
I want that victorious Christian life you hear about sometimes. The one that a good pastor’s kid knows is a lie or a pipe dream. But the one that sounds so promising. Just meet Jesus and all your troubles will melt away. Seems my troubles have done nothing but increase since meeting Jesus. There are days (more frequently lately) where walking with Jesus seems only a marginally better option than life without Him. The question I find myself asking is if “marginally” is enough?
I want it both ways. To be in control, and to be surrendered to a protection far beyond my control.
Somehow, I don’t think I can have it both ways.
No weak, peaceful Brother disgraced.
A dead cold body hung on a tree.
This is not what I came to see.
(http://blog.beliefnet.com/godspolitics/2008/06/when-a-eucharist-of-humility-i.html)
I’m going back and forth this morning. I want it both ways.
I want the gentle, healing way. The way that a friend and I have talked about for months now. Gentle encounter. Healing in the midst of worship. Less warlike, and more filled with adoration. The way that defined my healing from depression nearly three years ago.
And yet, I want the warlike way as well. I want the Jesus who protects, who guards, who defends, who goes to battle on my behalf. I want a Jesus who will order the things tormenting me through these last days and months to leave. Not a Jesus who says, “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”
I want to be totally defended, to rest in the knowledge that I am protected. I also want to defend myself.
There is this shield picture spoken over my life, and I find myself struggling with it. The posture required of me to be protected by the shield held over me is one where I am defenseless. Laid out on my face, curled into a ball. There is no way to move quickly from that position. No way to defend myself. There is a trust required in it that is hard for me. To trust that that shield will be enough. That I am protected. To relinquish control of that.
I want that victorious Christian life you hear about sometimes. The one that a good pastor’s kid knows is a lie or a pipe dream. But the one that sounds so promising. Just meet Jesus and all your troubles will melt away. Seems my troubles have done nothing but increase since meeting Jesus. There are days (more frequently lately) where walking with Jesus seems only a marginally better option than life without Him. The question I find myself asking is if “marginally” is enough?
I want it both ways. To be in control, and to be surrendered to a protection far beyond my control.
Somehow, I don’t think I can have it both ways.
Risk Freeing Someone Else
Cameron posted this piece of writing advice from Anne Lamott this morning, and it rather caught my attention.
"Toni Morrison said, 'The function of freedom is to free someone else,' and if you are no longer wracked or in bondage to a person or a way of life, tell your story. Risk freeing someone else.
Not everyone will be glad you did. Members of your family and other critics may wish you had kept your secrets.
Oh, well, what are you going to do? Get it all down. Let it pour out of you onto the page. Write an incredibly shitty, self-indulgent, whiny, mewling first draft. Then take out as many of the excesses as you can."
--Anne Lamott
"Toni Morrison said, 'The function of freedom is to free someone else,' and if you are no longer wracked or in bondage to a person or a way of life, tell your story. Risk freeing someone else.
Not everyone will be glad you did. Members of your family and other critics may wish you had kept your secrets.
Oh, well, what are you going to do? Get it all down. Let it pour out of you onto the page. Write an incredibly shitty, self-indulgent, whiny, mewling first draft. Then take out as many of the excesses as you can."
--Anne Lamott
Monday, June 16, 2008
When a Eucharist of Humility is Rejected
You need to read this. "When a Eucharist of Humility is Rejected." It took my breath away.
Sad News
I received links to the following two articles this morning
Christian Youth Worker Killed in Crash
Crash Kills Youth Leader
I was heavily involved with Young Life my last year or so of high school. My middle brother, J., has been staff with YL in Calgary, and continues to be a volunteer leader while he attends Bible school.
I vaguely remember meeting Julian, and his wife. I'm sure my brother knows them. YL tends to be a small, tightly knit community.
I do know this - really great YL leaders are hard to find. I had one, and she's quite possibly the reason I'm still a Christian all these years later. She's definitely one of the major reasons I didn't walk away from the church in general, and a relationship with Christ in specific during some of the years just after high school when depression was just starting to set in.
I'm praying for those who are grieving today. For Julian's wife and children. For all the kids whose lives he affected.
Christian Youth Worker Killed in Crash
Crash Kills Youth Leader
I was heavily involved with Young Life my last year or so of high school. My middle brother, J., has been staff with YL in Calgary, and continues to be a volunteer leader while he attends Bible school.
I vaguely remember meeting Julian, and his wife. I'm sure my brother knows them. YL tends to be a small, tightly knit community.
I do know this - really great YL leaders are hard to find. I had one, and she's quite possibly the reason I'm still a Christian all these years later. She's definitely one of the major reasons I didn't walk away from the church in general, and a relationship with Christ in specific during some of the years just after high school when depression was just starting to set in.
I'm praying for those who are grieving today. For Julian's wife and children. For all the kids whose lives he affected.
Scars on Their Souls
This article caught my attention in the print version of the paper yesterday, and I was pleased to find it online this morning.
Scars on their Souls
Scars on their Souls
Twirling skirts, revisted
Just over a year ago, I wrote this post. "Trees, Twirling Skirts and Mental Health".
It is probably the post that brings the most people (who aren't friends or regular readers) to my blog. At least two or three times a week it pops up as the post that flagged something in a google search.
I bought the twirling skirt I'd been dreaming of on the weekend.
And, yesterday, in a few spots, I twirled.
I'm still waiting for the freedom promised in that original image of twirling to arrive. But yesterday, as a prayer for mercy and freedom, for myself and some dear friends, I stepped into a mountain clearing, peeled off my shoes and socks, and spun barefoot around and around and around.
My roommate and I were talking about the missionary Eric Liddell (made famous in the movie "Chariots of Fire") as we drove to the mountains yesterday. Liddell's sister was quite critical of his passion for running. She felt it was time wasted - not used in ministry. His response? "When I run, I feel God's pleasure."
Yesterday I stood in the sun in a mountain clearing, and later in the setting sun on the bank of my favorite creek, and I spun.
I felt God's pleasure.
Monday Smiles
This is perhaps my new favorite picture of myself. My roommate, L., took it at the end of the day yesterday. That is "my" spot that I'm standing in. The spot in the park where I've gone time and time again over the last year, and particularly over the last several months to meet with Jesus. To pray, to listen, to think, to act things out, to simply be.Friday was absolutely a terrible day. Saturday and Sunday were deep and beautiful, and better.
I'm mostly managing to smile this morning, sitting here at my desk, but find myself needing reminders of reasons to keep wearing that smile - to continue to be an aficionado of wonder - to live a full, deep, rich life, and find beauty in the simplest of things.
So, this is my Monday morning edition of "Things that are Making Me Smile"
- a cup of passion tea
- pork buns from the Chinese bakery I visited in China town on Saturday
- flip-flop weather
- that we once again (for sure this time) have a place to live
- curly hair
- a long drive through my favorite parts of the mountains yesterday
- Downy "White Lilac and Aloe" scented fabric softener
- a twirling skirt with bells on the hem
- a favorite necklace
- a collection of beautiful photos from the last two days, including a bunch that I feel actually capture "me" on film
- a few deeply special friends
- a Sunday school lesson on the crucifixion, that may or may not have challenged my students, but grabbed my heart in deep ways
- string cheese direct from wisconsin
- that, in spite of everything that's gone on these last months, I can still say "I'm not depressed" and be speaking truth
- Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium
- a couple of songs that have been speaking to my heart lately
- two friends who listened and spoke peace to my heart yesterday morning after catching me just after I'd woken out of one of the more disturbing dreams I'd had of late
- kit kat bars
- hershey kisses with almonds
- a tiny blue sticker on an orange, confirming a word God spoke quite some time ago
- butterflies
Need to Breathe
Years ago my family babysat a little boy, who, no matter what season of the year, would sit himself down the second he came into our house, and peel off both his shoes and his socks. He was maybe three years old at the time.
When you asked him why he was taking his socks off, and not just his shoes, he'd answer matter-of-factly, "My feet need to breathe."
I think of him every summer, when flip-flop or barefoot weather finally arrives. I live without socks and shoes for as much of every summer as possible. (My feet need to breathe.)
These are my feet "breathing" after dancing barefoot in a clearing in the mountains yesterday.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Sunday
I'm going to try and get to my favorite place in the mountains this afternoon. I need to sit there and pray.
But first, I'm teaching Sunday school.
It's all about the little ways of communicating my individuality, my secret heart, at the church I'm attending now.
So I'm wearing a beautiful, unique top, purchased yesterday from a Tibetan store downtown.
And for the morning anyway, I'm wearing a ruby in my nose. It feels like a ruby sort of morning.
But first, I'm teaching Sunday school.
It's all about the little ways of communicating my individuality, my secret heart, at the church I'm attending now.
So I'm wearing a beautiful, unique top, purchased yesterday from a Tibetan store downtown.
And for the morning anyway, I'm wearing a ruby in my nose. It feels like a ruby sort of morning.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Very Me...
My friend Rae took this photo of me at the zoo today. I really like it. That's my brand new journal I'm writing in, and my favorite scarf that I'm wearing. I was busy copying down a couple of quotes that were painted on a wall in one of the African exhibits. But I love the way I look in this photo, and I love what it says about who I am... It is very me.
And the quotes I was jotting down?
"Like water, be gentle and strong. Be gentle enough to follow the natural paths of the earth, and strong enough to rise up and reshape the world." (Brenda Peterson)
"Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts." (Rachel Carson)
An Aficionado of Wonder
My baby brother T., and I hung out last night. He leaves tomorrow to spend several weeks in England, and we wanted to spend some time together before he goes. We tried to go see the new movie "Kung Fu Panda", but by the time we got to the front of the line it was sold out. So we went to Blockbuster to see what we could rent instead. My only condition was that the movie needed to not be heavy in content. Yesterday was a brutal day, and I needed to watch something that would make me laugh. We ended up renting "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium" and, though we felt the ending was a bit abrupt, we loved it.
There was something that really stuck out to me in the midst of it, particularly after such a hard day. On the tombstone of one of the characters, one of the phrases that was used to describe him was "aficionado of wonder". I fell in love with that phrase.
I want to be an aficionado of wonder. A connoisseur if you will. One who revels in the moments of child-like delight and joy. In colors and sounds and simple things. I want to live a life marked by a sense of wonder.
I wasn't sure what kind of day today would be, particularly given the way yesterday went. Yesterday ended better than I'd expected. Time with T. was calming and brought some joy, but I just couldn't be sure.
So, I popped an emerald (a current favorite) stud into my nose. Put on a favorite t-shirt and jeans, and a funky white scarf, and headed out.
I went to the zoo with a good friend. We laughed and talked and took hundreds of photos between the two of us. (I took about 120, and she took about 180) She'd spent three weeks in Australia, and I'd spent a weekend in Ontario since we were last together. We both had stories ripe for sharing.
After several hours at the zoo, we headed downtown to China town, wandered there for a while, and then landed ourselves in a little, slowly becoming dilapidated, was once the jewel of downtown, mall called Eau Claire Market. Eau Claire Market has a very fun store run by some Tibetan's, and full of beautiful clothing, jewelry and merchandise from Nepal and Tibet. And, they were having a clearance sale. Two racks of very fun clothes - one item for $15, or two items for $20. I bought a truly unique and beautiful top, and a skirt.
But not just any skirt. A twirling skirt. I've had my eye out for a twirling skirt for quite a number of years now. A while back, whenever I'd talk with Jesus about freedom in my life, He'd show me this picture of myself wearing a beautiful skirt, twirling freely in a field. Spinning and dancing and full of joy. I've never found a skirt suited. I've never been in a mental and emotional and spiritual space that was free enough for twirling. But I think that place is coming soon, and I've stepped up my search for the perfect skirt recently. I bought it today. And, to make it truly fun, there are tiny bells attached to the hem of the skirt. It tinkles as I walk.
I want to be free. And I want to live the life of one who is an aficionado of wonder and joy.
I want to find wonder and joy in the simplest of moments. In strawberries, and laughing with a friend. In the abundance of tropical flowers we saw in the gardens at the zoo today, and the brilliant coloring of the peacocks that wander the grounds. In good deals at the bakery in Chinatown, and a wildly multi-colored skirt with tiny mirrors embroidered onto it and little silver bells hanging from the hem. In simple but delicious food, and a chocolate bar for dessert. In chats and phone calls with friends. In hugs. In praying with my baby brother, and in painting my toenails.
I want to life a full, rich life. To have it said of me after I die that "She was an aficionado of wonder."
This is one of my favorite flower shots from today:
For today at least, I'm in a little better space, full of wonder and joy, and maybe even peace. And for that I'm deeply grateful.
There was something that really stuck out to me in the midst of it, particularly after such a hard day. On the tombstone of one of the characters, one of the phrases that was used to describe him was "aficionado of wonder". I fell in love with that phrase.
I want to be an aficionado of wonder. A connoisseur if you will. One who revels in the moments of child-like delight and joy. In colors and sounds and simple things. I want to live a life marked by a sense of wonder.
I wasn't sure what kind of day today would be, particularly given the way yesterday went. Yesterday ended better than I'd expected. Time with T. was calming and brought some joy, but I just couldn't be sure.
So, I popped an emerald (a current favorite) stud into my nose. Put on a favorite t-shirt and jeans, and a funky white scarf, and headed out.
I went to the zoo with a good friend. We laughed and talked and took hundreds of photos between the two of us. (I took about 120, and she took about 180) She'd spent three weeks in Australia, and I'd spent a weekend in Ontario since we were last together. We both had stories ripe for sharing.
After several hours at the zoo, we headed downtown to China town, wandered there for a while, and then landed ourselves in a little, slowly becoming dilapidated, was once the jewel of downtown, mall called Eau Claire Market. Eau Claire Market has a very fun store run by some Tibetan's, and full of beautiful clothing, jewelry and merchandise from Nepal and Tibet. And, they were having a clearance sale. Two racks of very fun clothes - one item for $15, or two items for $20. I bought a truly unique and beautiful top, and a skirt.
But not just any skirt. A twirling skirt. I've had my eye out for a twirling skirt for quite a number of years now. A while back, whenever I'd talk with Jesus about freedom in my life, He'd show me this picture of myself wearing a beautiful skirt, twirling freely in a field. Spinning and dancing and full of joy. I've never found a skirt suited. I've never been in a mental and emotional and spiritual space that was free enough for twirling. But I think that place is coming soon, and I've stepped up my search for the perfect skirt recently. I bought it today. And, to make it truly fun, there are tiny bells attached to the hem of the skirt. It tinkles as I walk.
I want to be free. And I want to live the life of one who is an aficionado of wonder and joy.
I want to find wonder and joy in the simplest of moments. In strawberries, and laughing with a friend. In the abundance of tropical flowers we saw in the gardens at the zoo today, and the brilliant coloring of the peacocks that wander the grounds. In good deals at the bakery in Chinatown, and a wildly multi-colored skirt with tiny mirrors embroidered onto it and little silver bells hanging from the hem. In simple but delicious food, and a chocolate bar for dessert. In chats and phone calls with friends. In hugs. In praying with my baby brother, and in painting my toenails.
I want to life a full, rich life. To have it said of me after I die that "She was an aficionado of wonder."
This is one of my favorite flower shots from today:
For today at least, I'm in a little better space, full of wonder and joy, and maybe even peace. And for that I'm deeply grateful.
Friday, June 13, 2008
A Deep Sadness (I don't know what to say)
I’ve been thinking all morning about what I want to say here today.
This has been a particularly hard day. They happen. You wake up, and you just know that the day is going to be a long and heavy one. If you’re fortunate, you find a way for the “funk” to lift a bit as the day goes on, and make normal functioning an easier proposition.
If you’re lucky, you have a moment like I did, over your lunch hour, where, for a few minutes, something punches through and lets you laugh. In my case it was laughing at our bookkeeper, who was nearly choking from laughing so hard at a goofy joke someone told. (the joke? Okay, you did ask! Why don’t witches wear underwear? To get a better grip on their broomsticks!) Four of us sat there laughing, some with tears streaming down their faces. (I think it was one of those moments where you kind of had to be there to fully appreciate it, but it did bring a much needed brief reprieve from the weight that has settled so heavily upon me again today.)
I woke deeply sad, deeply exhausted, deeply unsettled.
I dreamt last night that I was watching someone pour themselves into something. Investing time, money, and much emotion into something they cared deeply about and being rejected at every turn. I kind of feel like that in some spheres of my life this last while.
I had a rather emotional conversation with my boss, at her request this morning. I guess the emotions weren’t really at her request, but the conversation was. She asked me if my depression was returning. I gave her an honest answer, one I’m not sure she knew what to do with, but an honest one nonetheless.
Tears are leaking out of me again today, at the most inopportune of moments. Talking with a friend, and again with my boss.
I wish the sobs would release. It’s been probably five years since I was able to truly sob the emotions that needed to be released. I need to be able to sob again.
I told a friend this morning that I just want to curl up in a ball on the floor and stay there until one of two things happens. That I wake up in heaven, or that Jesus comes to heal and restore. At this point I honestly don’t know which of the two options I’d prefer. I think I might be in that ball on the floor for a long time.
I'm asking the Lord to send spiritual friends and counsellors. I have many, but most live far away. I need people in my own city, with whom it is safe to be wholly me, without masks. The person with whom that is presently most safe, most possible, lives across the country from me.
I could use a hug today.
I don't know what to say. There are thousands of words, and there are equally none. Perhaps, over tea I could find the words, but for now, I just can't find words to write.
This has been a particularly hard day. They happen. You wake up, and you just know that the day is going to be a long and heavy one. If you’re fortunate, you find a way for the “funk” to lift a bit as the day goes on, and make normal functioning an easier proposition.
If you’re lucky, you have a moment like I did, over your lunch hour, where, for a few minutes, something punches through and lets you laugh. In my case it was laughing at our bookkeeper, who was nearly choking from laughing so hard at a goofy joke someone told. (the joke? Okay, you did ask! Why don’t witches wear underwear? To get a better grip on their broomsticks!) Four of us sat there laughing, some with tears streaming down their faces. (I think it was one of those moments where you kind of had to be there to fully appreciate it, but it did bring a much needed brief reprieve from the weight that has settled so heavily upon me again today.)
I woke deeply sad, deeply exhausted, deeply unsettled.
I dreamt last night that I was watching someone pour themselves into something. Investing time, money, and much emotion into something they cared deeply about and being rejected at every turn. I kind of feel like that in some spheres of my life this last while.
I had a rather emotional conversation with my boss, at her request this morning. I guess the emotions weren’t really at her request, but the conversation was. She asked me if my depression was returning. I gave her an honest answer, one I’m not sure she knew what to do with, but an honest one nonetheless.
Tears are leaking out of me again today, at the most inopportune of moments. Talking with a friend, and again with my boss.
I wish the sobs would release. It’s been probably five years since I was able to truly sob the emotions that needed to be released. I need to be able to sob again.
I told a friend this morning that I just want to curl up in a ball on the floor and stay there until one of two things happens. That I wake up in heaven, or that Jesus comes to heal and restore. At this point I honestly don’t know which of the two options I’d prefer. I think I might be in that ball on the floor for a long time.
I'm asking the Lord to send spiritual friends and counsellors. I have many, but most live far away. I need people in my own city, with whom it is safe to be wholly me, without masks. The person with whom that is presently most safe, most possible, lives across the country from me.
I could use a hug today.
I don't know what to say. There are thousands of words, and there are equally none. Perhaps, over tea I could find the words, but for now, I just can't find words to write.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
A Great Place Name
Purple Springs, Alberta.
Sounds beautiful doesn't it? Like a place that would be a good place to live.
I'm fairly certain it's a bump on the road in the middle of the prairie, but I do love the name.
Sounds beautiful doesn't it? Like a place that would be a good place to live.
I'm fairly certain it's a bump on the road in the middle of the prairie, but I do love the name.
The Ongoing Saga
Would you believe that the woman who screwed us out of a house yesterday afternoon had the nerve to phone me this afternoon and see if we still wanted the house?
This would be the woman who rented the place out from under us, even though we'd put a deposit on it.
Seems her other plan didn't work out, and she's still looking for tenants.
I very nicely (but strongly) told her that I would have to speak with my roommates, but that we'd been very angry with the way she had handled our situation, and that I felt it was unlikely (something my roommates and I discussed yesterday) that we would still want to do business with her.
So, later this afternoon, on our way to check out a new house, I'll speak with my roommates, but I would suspect that we won't be going back to our original plan. It doesn't seem that it would be a wise decision to put our living arrangements in the hands of someone who has already treated them flippantly once.
This would be the woman who rented the place out from under us, even though we'd put a deposit on it.
Seems her other plan didn't work out, and she's still looking for tenants.
I very nicely (but strongly) told her that I would have to speak with my roommates, but that we'd been very angry with the way she had handled our situation, and that I felt it was unlikely (something my roommates and I discussed yesterday) that we would still want to do business with her.
So, later this afternoon, on our way to check out a new house, I'll speak with my roommates, but I would suspect that we won't be going back to our original plan. It doesn't seem that it would be a wise decision to put our living arrangements in the hands of someone who has already treated them flippantly once.
An Old Link
I was reading some old blog posts this morning, and came across a link to a story my friend Debbie put up from her trip to Israel in 2006.
Have you ever heard of "Jerusalem Syndrome?" I hadn't either.
But I did have to laugh at Deb's story of her first hand encounter with it!
Have you ever heard of "Jerusalem Syndrome?" I hadn't either.
But I did have to laugh at Deb's story of her first hand encounter with it!
Funny for Someone who Isn't a Morning Person
You Are Sunrise |
 You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts. All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be. |
Grocery List and Other Domestic Thoughts
I'm desperately in need of groceries. If one of my roommates hadn't made a huge pan of lasagna last night, I'm not entirely certain I'd have managed to eat a relatively balanced meal.
Grocery shopping while public transit dependent is a bit of pain.
However, since we're looking at another house tonight, one of my roommates is picking me up from work. That means that if I shop, I won't have to carry the food with me on an over-crowded train at rush hour.
So, I brought my cloth grocery bags with me, and at lunch I'll head to the grocery store and I'll buy at least the essentials, to complement the frozen meat and dry goods I've got in the freezer and cupboards at home.
On my list?
Grocery shopping while public transit dependent is a bit of pain.
However, since we're looking at another house tonight, one of my roommates is picking me up from work. That means that if I shop, I won't have to carry the food with me on an over-crowded train at rush hour.
So, I brought my cloth grocery bags with me, and at lunch I'll head to the grocery store and I'll buy at least the essentials, to complement the frozen meat and dry goods I've got in the freezer and cupboards at home.
On my list?
- individual tins of canned peaches
- a variety of berries (I'm hoping for blueberries, strawberries, blackberries, and maybe cherries)
- oranges
- carrots
- cucumber
- lettuce
- snap peas
- bananas
- kiwi
- mango
- granola bars
- multivitamins
- soap
- facial wipes
- a kit-kat bar (or maybe two)
- hangers
- and an umbrella!
I think I'll make couscous, and some sort of meat for dinner. Perhaps couscous with beef strips and strawberries in balsamic vinegar. Steamed veggies or maybe just sliced cucumbers on the side.
After dinner? I need to unpack my suitcase from the weekend, so that I can find my clothes again instead of rummaging through a pile. I need to do laundry. And I need to attack a variety of other tasks.
(But in reality I'll probably throw the laundry in the washer and settle in in front of the television to watch "So You Think You Can Dance").
Empowered to...
Two more thoughts from Henri Nouwen.
Empowered to Call God "Abba"
Calling God "Abba, Father" is different from giving God a familiar name. Calling God "Abba" is entering into the same intimate, fearless, trusting, and empowering relationship with God that Jesus had. That relationship is called Spirit, and that Spirit is given to us by Jesus and enables us to cry out with him, "Abba, Father."
Calling God "Abba, Father" (see Roman 8:15; Galatians 4:6) is a cry of the heart, a prayer welling up from our innermost beings. It has nothing do with naming God but everything to do with claiming God as the source of who we are. This claim does not come from any sudden insight or acquired conviction; it is the claim that the Spirit of Jesus makes in communion with our spirits. It is the claim of love.
Empowered to Receive Love
The Spirit reveals to us not only that God is "Abba, Father" but also that we belong to God as his beloved children. The Spirit thus restores in us the relationship from which all other relationships derive their meaning.
Abba is a very intimate word. The best translation for it is: "Daddy." The word Abba expresses trust, safety, confidence, belonging, and most of all intimacy. It does not have the connotation of authority, power, and control, that the word Father often evokes. On the contrary, Abba implies an embracing and nurturing love. This love includes and infinitely transcends all the love that comes to us from our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, spouses, and lovers. It is the gift of the Spirit.
Empowered to Call God "Abba"
Calling God "Abba, Father" is different from giving God a familiar name. Calling God "Abba" is entering into the same intimate, fearless, trusting, and empowering relationship with God that Jesus had. That relationship is called Spirit, and that Spirit is given to us by Jesus and enables us to cry out with him, "Abba, Father."
Calling God "Abba, Father" (see Roman 8:15; Galatians 4:6) is a cry of the heart, a prayer welling up from our innermost beings. It has nothing do with naming God but everything to do with claiming God as the source of who we are. This claim does not come from any sudden insight or acquired conviction; it is the claim that the Spirit of Jesus makes in communion with our spirits. It is the claim of love.
Empowered to Receive Love
The Spirit reveals to us not only that God is "Abba, Father" but also that we belong to God as his beloved children. The Spirit thus restores in us the relationship from which all other relationships derive their meaning.
Abba is a very intimate word. The best translation for it is: "Daddy." The word Abba expresses trust, safety, confidence, belonging, and most of all intimacy. It does not have the connotation of authority, power, and control, that the word Father often evokes. On the contrary, Abba implies an embracing and nurturing love. This love includes and infinitely transcends all the love that comes to us from our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, spouses, and lovers. It is the gift of the Spirit.
My Park
This article, about walking in the rain, made me smile this morning.
It talks about the park that I go to at least two or three times a month to walk and pray. The park I particularly enjoy walking in in the rain. (Though the article talks about a different part of the park then where I generally go.)
It talks about the park that I go to at least two or three times a month to walk and pray. The park I particularly enjoy walking in in the rain. (Though the article talks about a different part of the park then where I generally go.)
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
It Will Pass (Take 2)
So, I'm back to where I started this day...
"It will pass."
I wonder how many times I'll have to tell myself that?
That the stress will pass.
That the good things should be deeply enjoyed, because they, too, are often fleeting.
It will pass. The panic, the fear, the stress, the desperate wondering when things are going to come together the way I'd hoped, and a sense of stability and security will return, all of these will pass, and I'll be at rest again.
"It will pass."
I wonder how many times I'll have to tell myself that?
That the stress will pass.
That the good things should be deeply enjoyed, because they, too, are often fleeting.
It will pass. The panic, the fear, the stress, the desperate wondering when things are going to come together the way I'd hoped, and a sense of stability and security will return, all of these will pass, and I'll be at rest again.
Back to House Hunting
So... the house we'd lined up has fallen through, and we're now in a bit more of a rush to find someplace to live at the end of the month.
Long and short is, the previous tenants had left a disaster in the house, including a ton of furniture we don't want. The landlord we were going to rent from found a family that will take the house as is, and needs the furniture. She doesn't have to pay someone to empty and clean the house if she rents to this person instead of us.
So, we're back to the hunting stage...
I managed to line up one viewing for tonight, immediately after work, and I've printed a bunch of ads that I'll call this evening.
Praying for this to be settled very soon.
I think I might engage in a little "retail therapy" tonight. I have some things I need to pick up, and shopping just might do the trick in the "burning off some sudden stress" category!
Long and short is, the previous tenants had left a disaster in the house, including a ton of furniture we don't want. The landlord we were going to rent from found a family that will take the house as is, and needs the furniture. She doesn't have to pay someone to empty and clean the house if she rents to this person instead of us.
So, we're back to the hunting stage...
I managed to line up one viewing for tonight, immediately after work, and I've printed a bunch of ads that I'll call this evening.
Praying for this to be settled very soon.
I think I might engage in a little "retail therapy" tonight. I have some things I need to pick up, and shopping just might do the trick in the "burning off some sudden stress" category!
Whispers from my Inbox
Some tidbits that arrived in my email inbox this morning...
From the Moravian Daily Texts:
You have given me the shield of your salvation, and your right hand has supported me. Psalm 18:35
Thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession. 2 Corinthians 2:14
Father, you are our salvation, our strength, and our shield. Answer us in the day of trouble; send us help from your holy place. Come in the glory of your saving light and shine upon our pathways. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
From John Fischer's "Catch of the Day":
I wanted to get all wet. I wanted to identify with the death and resurrection of Jesus and I wanted to identify with my new family in Christ.
When you are baptized you go down. You put yourself in the hands of someone else and they fold you back under the water. Now they could keep you there and you'd really die, but they pull you back out as a symbol of your death to your old way of living, and your rising to a new way of life trusting in the Spirit of God. And there is great joy in this.
You go down a sinner and come up saved. You go down guilty and come up forgiven. You go down dead and come up alive. You go down alone; you come up in the family of God. It's really a big deal. If it hasn't happened to you, you need to consider it. If it has, you need to remember.
That's a big part of this—remembering. Whenever you are tempted to doubt your faith, remember. Whenever you think that God could never forgive you, remember. Whenever you are tempted, remember. Whenever you think you are alone, remember. It happened to you in time and space. You were baptized into this new life and you have witnesses. Just as Jesus was crucified and raised again at a point in time in the real world, you were identified with Him as well, and with all those who have believed in Him from all time all over the world.
From the Moravian Daily Texts:
You have given me the shield of your salvation, and your right hand has supported me. Psalm 18:35
Thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession. 2 Corinthians 2:14
Father, you are our salvation, our strength, and our shield. Answer us in the day of trouble; send us help from your holy place. Come in the glory of your saving light and shine upon our pathways. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
From John Fischer's "Catch of the Day":
I wanted to get all wet. I wanted to identify with the death and resurrection of Jesus and I wanted to identify with my new family in Christ.
When you are baptized you go down. You put yourself in the hands of someone else and they fold you back under the water. Now they could keep you there and you'd really die, but they pull you back out as a symbol of your death to your old way of living, and your rising to a new way of life trusting in the Spirit of God. And there is great joy in this.
You go down a sinner and come up saved. You go down guilty and come up forgiven. You go down dead and come up alive. You go down alone; you come up in the family of God. It's really a big deal. If it hasn't happened to you, you need to consider it. If it has, you need to remember.
That's a big part of this—remembering. Whenever you are tempted to doubt your faith, remember. Whenever you think that God could never forgive you, remember. Whenever you are tempted, remember. Whenever you think you are alone, remember. It happened to you in time and space. You were baptized into this new life and you have witnesses. Just as Jesus was crucified and raised again at a point in time in the real world, you were identified with Him as well, and with all those who have believed in Him from all time all over the world.
It Will Pass
I received this joke in my email today. It made me chuckle with the sheer truth of the way life works!
A student went to his meditation teacher and said, "My meditation is horrible! I feel so distracted, or my legs ache, or I'm constantly falling asleep. It's just horrible!" "It will pass," the teacher said matter-of-factly.
A week later, the student came back to his teacher. "My meditation is wonderful! I feel so aware, so peaceful, so alive! It's just wonderful!" "It will pass," the teacher replied matter-of-factly.
A student went to his meditation teacher and said, "My meditation is horrible! I feel so distracted, or my legs ache, or I'm constantly falling asleep. It's just horrible!" "It will pass," the teacher said matter-of-factly.
A week later, the student came back to his teacher. "My meditation is wonderful! I feel so aware, so peaceful, so alive! It's just wonderful!" "It will pass," the teacher replied matter-of-factly.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Hugs
On Friday morning at 9 am, my friend M. picked me up. We went for a quick breakfast at Tim Horton’s (she ate, I just drank apple juice), went shopping for an hour (bought two fantastic new tops and a great pair of earrings), and then she drove me to the airport and said goodbye.
I got on a plane and flew across the country to collect on a promise of a hug from a dear friend.
It was absolutely worth it. Each and every moment. The hours and hours of conversations. The relaxed (though full) schedule. The really special moments, and time spent praying together. The laughter.
And especially the hugs.
There was the hug at the airport (a warm-up really). And the one at the side of the road, after standing together in a river while she prayed. And others… several others. She gives the best hugs. The kind that inherently say to the person who receives them that they are deeply loved and valued. The kind that are healing, that bring wholeness and peace.
And the best part is, when we can’t physically be together to collect on the hugs, she sends them to me in words. In emails and chats online and phone calls.
I find myself continually amazed that the Lord gifted me with a friendship with her. At the way our hearts have connected. At the gift she’s been as I’ve navigated what has been a tumultuous journey of life and faith through this last year. I'm so thankful for our relationship.
It was absolutely worth it. And I’m already looking forward to the next time we get to be together.
I got on a plane and flew across the country to collect on a promise of a hug from a dear friend.
It was absolutely worth it. Each and every moment. The hours and hours of conversations. The relaxed (though full) schedule. The really special moments, and time spent praying together. The laughter.
And especially the hugs.
There was the hug at the airport (a warm-up really). And the one at the side of the road, after standing together in a river while she prayed. And others… several others. She gives the best hugs. The kind that inherently say to the person who receives them that they are deeply loved and valued. The kind that are healing, that bring wholeness and peace.
And the best part is, when we can’t physically be together to collect on the hugs, she sends them to me in words. In emails and chats online and phone calls.
I find myself continually amazed that the Lord gifted me with a friendship with her. At the way our hearts have connected. At the gift she’s been as I’ve navigated what has been a tumultuous journey of life and faith through this last year. I'm so thankful for our relationship.
It was absolutely worth it. And I’m already looking forward to the next time we get to be together.
Moving
While I was away on the weekend, my roommate began the process of finalizing a lease on a house for the next year. We have a few details left to work out, but it would seem that come the end of June, I'll be moving.
It was a great relief to arrive home and discover that this had been sorted out.
I'm not looking forward to moving, but I am looking forward to being settled in a new place.
It was a great relief to arrive home and discover that this had been sorted out.
I'm not looking forward to moving, but I am looking forward to being settled in a new place.
Snails
The Spirit does...
A few lines from Henri Nouwen...
The Spirit indeed empowers us and allows us to be healing presences. When we are filled with that Spirit, we cannot be other than healers.
Empowered to Pray
Prayer is the gift of the Spirit. Often we wonder how to pray, when to pray, and what to pray. We can become very concerned about methods and techniques of prayer. But finally it is not we who pray but the Spirit who prays in us.
Paul says: "The Spirit ... comes to help us in our weakness, for, when we do not know how to pray properly, then the Spirit personally makes our petitions for us in groans that cannot be put into words; and he who can see into all hearts knows what the Spirit means because the prayers that the Spirit makes for God's holy people are always in accordance with the mind of God" (Romans 8:26-27). These words explain why the Spirit is called "the Consoler."
The Spirit indeed empowers us and allows us to be healing presences. When we are filled with that Spirit, we cannot be other than healers.
Empowered to Pray
Prayer is the gift of the Spirit. Often we wonder how to pray, when to pray, and what to pray. We can become very concerned about methods and techniques of prayer. But finally it is not we who pray but the Spirit who prays in us.
Paul says: "The Spirit ... comes to help us in our weakness, for, when we do not know how to pray properly, then the Spirit personally makes our petitions for us in groans that cannot be put into words; and he who can see into all hearts knows what the Spirit means because the prayers that the Spirit makes for God's holy people are always in accordance with the mind of God" (Romans 8:26-27). These words explain why the Spirit is called "the Consoler."
A few Headlines
A more substantive post coming this weekend, but for the moment, a couple headlines that are catching my eye:
Two articles on the American war in Iraq, and mental health:
Purple Hearts for Psychic Scars?
America's Medicated Army
And one on simplicity (and yes, I'm planning on doing a bit of paring down of my possessions over the next month before I move):
How to Live with Just 100 Things
Two articles on the American war in Iraq, and mental health:
Purple Hearts for Psychic Scars?
America's Medicated Army
And one on simplicity (and yes, I'm planning on doing a bit of paring down of my possessions over the next month before I move):
How to Live with Just 100 Things
Friday, June 06, 2008
Out and About
My best friend M. is picking me up in just under an hour. We're going for breakfast at a restaurant near my house, and then she's driving me to the airport.
I'm spending the weekend in another part of Canada, hanging out with a very dear friend. Basically, I'm flying across the country to get a hug. She gives the best hugs, and I've been waiting several months to collect on another one.
I probably won't blog until I get back on Monday night.
See you then!
I'm spending the weekend in another part of Canada, hanging out with a very dear friend. Basically, I'm flying across the country to get a hug. She gives the best hugs, and I've been waiting several months to collect on another one.
I probably won't blog until I get back on Monday night.
See you then!
Thursday, June 05, 2008
The Roommate Situation
About a year ago at this time, I was having panic attacks. I'd just picked up a girl with whom I'd exchanged only about 4 emails ever from the Calgary airport, and we'd signed a one year lease on a basement suite, and we were going to live together. I think I'd met her approximately one week prior to agreeing to spend the next year of my life in close quarters with her.
She'd never lived in North America (she's a Kiwi who grew up as an MK in West Africa) before. I'd never lived away from my parent's house before. Together we figured out this "flatting" in Calgary business.
Tonight I found myself sitting next to her on a couch, visiting with her parents (in from New Zealand), and her boyfriend (down from parts north to meet the parents) and reflecting that God knew what he was doing when he put us together.
J. has become a special friend. She's put up with my crazy moods this last while as I've sought to assimilate a great many changes in a short time. It was with great affection that I sat and teased her about having to sleep on my bedroom floor tonight. (her parents are using her bedroom, and her boyfriend will occupy our living room floor, where she's been sleeping for the last week or so while her parents have been with us.)
It was a random connection just over a year ago. Our parents had met each other once, just over a decade previously, in West Africa, and had many mutual friends who put the two of us in touch with each other.
Or maybe not so random. Maybe a gift from a God who knew precisely what I needed at the moment when I so badly needed to be out from under my parent's roof.
We're getting ready to move again. (We're adding a third girl - another Kiwi - to the mix). We visited a potential house tonight, and J. will follow up with the landlord to ask some questions and possibly arrange a lease in the morning.
Over the last year we've laughed together. Cooked together (and apart). We've both travelled to a wide variety of places, on the North American continent, and not so much. We've painted toenails and tinted eyelashes. And in the last few months, as we've each navigated major changes in our lives, we've hugged, we've cried, and even occasionally prayed together. (And there was that one memorable afternoon where we were both truly miserable and together feasted on the richest cheesecake we could buy for take-away at a local restaurant, and watched the goofiest movie we could think of.)
Tonight I'm thankful that God sent me J., just at the right moment. I'm thankful that someone who started out as a "convenient roommate" has become a friend who sees the deep places of my heart and loves me anyway.
She'd never lived in North America (she's a Kiwi who grew up as an MK in West Africa) before. I'd never lived away from my parent's house before. Together we figured out this "flatting" in Calgary business.
Tonight I found myself sitting next to her on a couch, visiting with her parents (in from New Zealand), and her boyfriend (down from parts north to meet the parents) and reflecting that God knew what he was doing when he put us together.
J. has become a special friend. She's put up with my crazy moods this last while as I've sought to assimilate a great many changes in a short time. It was with great affection that I sat and teased her about having to sleep on my bedroom floor tonight. (her parents are using her bedroom, and her boyfriend will occupy our living room floor, where she's been sleeping for the last week or so while her parents have been with us.)
It was a random connection just over a year ago. Our parents had met each other once, just over a decade previously, in West Africa, and had many mutual friends who put the two of us in touch with each other.
Or maybe not so random. Maybe a gift from a God who knew precisely what I needed at the moment when I so badly needed to be out from under my parent's roof.
We're getting ready to move again. (We're adding a third girl - another Kiwi - to the mix). We visited a potential house tonight, and J. will follow up with the landlord to ask some questions and possibly arrange a lease in the morning.
Over the last year we've laughed together. Cooked together (and apart). We've both travelled to a wide variety of places, on the North American continent, and not so much. We've painted toenails and tinted eyelashes. And in the last few months, as we've each navigated major changes in our lives, we've hugged, we've cried, and even occasionally prayed together. (And there was that one memorable afternoon where we were both truly miserable and together feasted on the richest cheesecake we could buy for take-away at a local restaurant, and watched the goofiest movie we could think of.)
Tonight I'm thankful that God sent me J., just at the right moment. I'm thankful that someone who started out as a "convenient roommate" has become a friend who sees the deep places of my heart and loves me anyway.
More from Henri Nouwen
More great thoughts from the Henri Nouwen society daily emails:
Being Clothed in Christ
Being a believer means being clothed in Christ. Paul says: "Every one of you that has been baptised has been clothed in Christ" (Galatians 3:26) and "Let your armour be the Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 13:14). This being "clothed in Christ" is much more than wearing a cloak that covers our misery. It refers to a total transformation that allows us to say with Paul: "I have been crucified with Christ and yet I am alive; yet it is no longer I, but Christ living in me" (Galatians 2:20).
Thus, we are the living Christ in the world. Jesus, who is God-made-flesh, continues to reveal himself in our own flesh. Indeed, true salvation is becoming Christ.
God's Breath Given to Us
Being the living Christ today means being filled with the same Spirit that filled Jesus. Jesus and his Father are breathing the same breath, the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is the intimate communion that makes Jesus and his Father one. Jesus says: "I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 14:10) and "The Father and I are one" (John 10:30). It is this unity that Jesus wants to give us. That is the gift of his Holy Spirit.
Living a spiritual life, therefore, means living in the same communion with the Father as Jesus did, and thus making God present in the world.
Being Clothed in Christ
Being a believer means being clothed in Christ. Paul says: "Every one of you that has been baptised has been clothed in Christ" (Galatians 3:26) and "Let your armour be the Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 13:14). This being "clothed in Christ" is much more than wearing a cloak that covers our misery. It refers to a total transformation that allows us to say with Paul: "I have been crucified with Christ and yet I am alive; yet it is no longer I, but Christ living in me" (Galatians 2:20).
Thus, we are the living Christ in the world. Jesus, who is God-made-flesh, continues to reveal himself in our own flesh. Indeed, true salvation is becoming Christ.
God's Breath Given to Us
Being the living Christ today means being filled with the same Spirit that filled Jesus. Jesus and his Father are breathing the same breath, the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is the intimate communion that makes Jesus and his Father one. Jesus says: "I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 14:10) and "The Father and I are one" (John 10:30). It is this unity that Jesus wants to give us. That is the gift of his Holy Spirit.
Living a spiritual life, therefore, means living in the same communion with the Father as Jesus did, and thus making God present in the world.
Faking Trust?
I’m thinking this morning about the idea of a “fake it ‘til you make it” faith. I’m wondering if it works, and if maybe that’s the way to approach trust?
What if, everytime the Lord asks something of me, something that requires me to exhibit the trust that I don’t really have, I stopped, and instead of immediately refusing, asked myself how I would respond to that same request if it was posed to me by someone I implicitly trusted? What if I then chose to take a step into nothingness, and responded in the fashion that I would to one I trust?
My head says the Lord is implicitly trustworthy. My heart is having a bit more trouble with that proposition. My heart says that steps of trust and obedience have led me into a lot of really dark and painful places over the years, and asks why I should trust one that causes me pain? My head is quick to remind me that pain is not always a bad thing, but my heart has trouble with the idea that something that feels so bad could actually be good.
Trust and obedience are closely linked for me. I will not obey with any consistency one whom I don’t trust. My deep heart desire is to be continually obedient to the voice of the Lord, and for that, I need to trust.
What if, just for one weekend, I give this trust thing a shot?
What if, everytime the Lord asks something of me, something that requires me to exhibit the trust that I don’t really have, I stopped, and instead of immediately refusing, asked myself how I would respond to that same request if it was posed to me by someone I implicitly trusted? What if I then chose to take a step into nothingness, and responded in the fashion that I would to one I trust?
My head says the Lord is implicitly trustworthy. My heart is having a bit more trouble with that proposition. My heart says that steps of trust and obedience have led me into a lot of really dark and painful places over the years, and asks why I should trust one that causes me pain? My head is quick to remind me that pain is not always a bad thing, but my heart has trouble with the idea that something that feels so bad could actually be good.
Trust and obedience are closely linked for me. I will not obey with any consistency one whom I don’t trust. My deep heart desire is to be continually obedient to the voice of the Lord, and for that, I need to trust.
What if, just for one weekend, I give this trust thing a shot?
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
To Do
These are a few of the things niggling at my brain... things that need to be done by Thursday evening:
- buy 2 boxes of passion tea from Starbucks (one for work and one for home/travel)
- return a library book that is due
- pick up a library hold that has arrived
- email A.
- call M.
- call J.
- laundry
- view house
- go to mom and dad's house to get bubble wrap
- lunch with C.
- slow down
- light a candle or two
- burn some incense
- breathe
- rest
Random Wednesday Thoughts
I went to bed about an hour and half earlier than normal last night, because I was falling asleep on the couch, watching an episode of the West Wing on dvd. I thought perhaps going to bed early would allow me to catch up on the sleep I so rarely get. Nope. Woke up earlier, and more often. But, I am feeling slightly more rested than other days this week.
Just as a random thought, the flight I’m taking on Friday will be the first time I’ve ever flown domestically. I’ve flown internationally quite a number of times, but I’ve never made a domestic flight. How weird is that?
I’m wearing a sapphire in my nose today. Sparkly, rich, deep blue, whenever I care to glance down. I’m definitely liking the sapphire, though maybe not quite as much as I liked the emerald I wore yesterday.
My spine is really painful today. I feel a bit like a hunch-back. Like there’s a lump right in the middle of it, all twisted around, and it aches. I’ve tried stretching, and sitting differently, but so far, it’s not helping. I guess I’ll put a heat pack on it tonight when I get home and see if that does the trick.
I’m thinking about pine needles a lot lately. Finding little object lessons in them. I’ll write some of those down at some point.
I’m wearing knee-socks today. With my skirt. Can I just say that my outfit would be cuter without the knee socks? But, it’s not quite warm enough to just walk with bare legs, so I have knee socks on. Black ones, that are not obviously knee socks. They could, in fact, be tights. (But take my word for it – they’re not tights).
I have really yummy leftovers for lunch today. I brought them yesterday, but ended up skipping lunch because I was feeling far too ill to eat. So, today I’m eating strips of sirloin beef, cooked in a balsamic vinaigrette, and roasted herbed baby potatoes.
Just as a random thought, the flight I’m taking on Friday will be the first time I’ve ever flown domestically. I’ve flown internationally quite a number of times, but I’ve never made a domestic flight. How weird is that?
I’m wearing a sapphire in my nose today. Sparkly, rich, deep blue, whenever I care to glance down. I’m definitely liking the sapphire, though maybe not quite as much as I liked the emerald I wore yesterday.
My spine is really painful today. I feel a bit like a hunch-back. Like there’s a lump right in the middle of it, all twisted around, and it aches. I’ve tried stretching, and sitting differently, but so far, it’s not helping. I guess I’ll put a heat pack on it tonight when I get home and see if that does the trick.
I’m thinking about pine needles a lot lately. Finding little object lessons in them. I’ll write some of those down at some point.
I’m wearing knee-socks today. With my skirt. Can I just say that my outfit would be cuter without the knee socks? But, it’s not quite warm enough to just walk with bare legs, so I have knee socks on. Black ones, that are not obviously knee socks. They could, in fact, be tights. (But take my word for it – they’re not tights).
I have really yummy leftovers for lunch today. I brought them yesterday, but ended up skipping lunch because I was feeling far too ill to eat. So, today I’m eating strips of sirloin beef, cooked in a balsamic vinaigrette, and roasted herbed baby potatoes.
Smile List - June 4 Edition
Things Making Me Smile
My baby brother, T.’s, facebook status last night read “T. is getting calluses again.” This is fantastic news. It means that he’s been able to begin playing his guitar again after nearly two years. It means that the last surgery, the one earlier this spring where they shortened one of the bones in his wrist, seems to have been successful.
On Friday a collection of 10 different nose studs that I ordered online arrived in the mail. I got a great deal on them, and I’m quite enjoying having a rainbow of colors at my easy disposal.
We are looking at a house that seems to be a good possibility for the three of us (and fits our varied criteria) tomorrow night.
It wasn’t raining for my commute in to work this morning, so I arrived warm and dry for a change.
I’m reading a quite fascinating book on the topic of treating addicts right now.
Because I’m taking a few days off of work to visit a dear friend, I only have today and tomorrow left in the office. AND, next week will also be a short week.
A much anticipated visit with a dear friend.
A breakfast date with my best friend M., on Friday morning.
Animal Crackers.
Fresh apricots.
Canned peaches.
My current purse, which is a canvas bag with an Andy Warhol print of a campbell’s soup can on the front of it. (A $5 purchase the last time I hung out with Rae).
Skirt weather. I love wearing skirts.
Water. I really love water. Drinking it. Being in it. Being near a body of it.
The overflow of company in our house ends at the end of this week. I’ve loved having people stay with us, but I’ll be glad when things quiet down a little, especially since we now need to start thinking about packing for our impending move. My roommate has promised me “no more company” for the remainder of June.
A quiet day at the office yesterday, with much time to think and pray.
Things to do at the office today and tomorrow, to make the last two days for the week go more quickly.
My baby brother, T.’s, facebook status last night read “T. is getting calluses again.” This is fantastic news. It means that he’s been able to begin playing his guitar again after nearly two years. It means that the last surgery, the one earlier this spring where they shortened one of the bones in his wrist, seems to have been successful.
On Friday a collection of 10 different nose studs that I ordered online arrived in the mail. I got a great deal on them, and I’m quite enjoying having a rainbow of colors at my easy disposal.
We are looking at a house that seems to be a good possibility for the three of us (and fits our varied criteria) tomorrow night.
It wasn’t raining for my commute in to work this morning, so I arrived warm and dry for a change.
I’m reading a quite fascinating book on the topic of treating addicts right now.
Because I’m taking a few days off of work to visit a dear friend, I only have today and tomorrow left in the office. AND, next week will also be a short week.
A much anticipated visit with a dear friend.
A breakfast date with my best friend M., on Friday morning.
Animal Crackers.
Fresh apricots.
Canned peaches.
My current purse, which is a canvas bag with an Andy Warhol print of a campbell’s soup can on the front of it. (A $5 purchase the last time I hung out with Rae).
Skirt weather. I love wearing skirts.
Water. I really love water. Drinking it. Being in it. Being near a body of it.
The overflow of company in our house ends at the end of this week. I’ve loved having people stay with us, but I’ll be glad when things quiet down a little, especially since we now need to start thinking about packing for our impending move. My roommate has promised me “no more company” for the remainder of June.
A quiet day at the office yesterday, with much time to think and pray.
Things to do at the office today and tomorrow, to make the last two days for the week go more quickly.
In the Headlines...
These articles caught my attention this morning...
Finding Freedom at Work
Food Summit Seeks "Green Revolution" for Africa
China Quake Parents Unbowed in Pressing Complaints
Parts of Indonesian Capital Swampted by Tidal Wave
Finding Freedom at Work
Food Summit Seeks "Green Revolution" for Africa
China Quake Parents Unbowed in Pressing Complaints
Parts of Indonesian Capital Swampted by Tidal Wave
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Trust?
Exhaustion is hanging quite heavily today.
Depression is once again crowding the edges of my mind, and I find myself one false step away from that descent back into the hopelessness I swore I would never descend into again.
Both the exhaustion and the threatening depression bring physical symptoms with them. Decreased appetite. Nausea. Headaches. Stiff and aching muscles.
I’m seriously considering looking for a new job. Just to get even one aspect of my life back into a rhythm instead of unpredictable chaos. I’m tired of my integrity and maturity being questioned because someone else is acting with limited integrity and maturity.
I don’t know how much fight I have left in me. I need Jesus to fight for me.
I’m trying to trust Him. I want to trust Him.
Trust is not one of my strong points. Trust seems easily betrayed. To trust wholly is to be exposed and open to pain.
I’m trying to trust Him.
Grey’s Anatomy (as usual) summed it up in lines that Meredith said to Derek at the end of the season finale a few weeks ago:
"I'm still mad at you! And I don't know if I trust you. I wanna trust you, but I don't know if I do, so I'm just gonna try. I'm gonna try and trust you because I believe that we can be extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart."
I'm gonna try and trust Him.
Depression is once again crowding the edges of my mind, and I find myself one false step away from that descent back into the hopelessness I swore I would never descend into again.
Both the exhaustion and the threatening depression bring physical symptoms with them. Decreased appetite. Nausea. Headaches. Stiff and aching muscles.
I’m seriously considering looking for a new job. Just to get even one aspect of my life back into a rhythm instead of unpredictable chaos. I’m tired of my integrity and maturity being questioned because someone else is acting with limited integrity and maturity.
I don’t know how much fight I have left in me. I need Jesus to fight for me.
I’m trying to trust Him. I want to trust Him.
Trust is not one of my strong points. Trust seems easily betrayed. To trust wholly is to be exposed and open to pain.
I’m trying to trust Him.
Grey’s Anatomy (as usual) summed it up in lines that Meredith said to Derek at the end of the season finale a few weeks ago:
"I'm still mad at you! And I don't know if I trust you. I wanna trust you, but I don't know if I do, so I'm just gonna try. I'm gonna try and trust you because I believe that we can be extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart."
I'm gonna try and trust Him.
Making News...
Jesus is Persecuted - Henri Nouwen
Another thought from Henri Nouwen
Jesus Is Persecuted
Jesus, the favorite Child of God, is persecuted. He who is poor, gentle, mourning; he who hungers and thirsts for uprightness; is merciful, pure of heart and a peacemaker is not welcome in this world. The Blessed One of God is a threat to the established order and a source of constant irritation to those who consider themselves the rulers of this world. Without his accusing anyone he is considered an accuser, without his condemning anyone he makes people feel guilty and ashamed, without his judging anyone those who see him feel judged. In their eyes, he cannot be tolerated and needs to be destroyed, because letting him be seems like a confession of guilt.
When we want to become like Jesus, we cannot expect always to be liked and admired. We have to be prepared to be rejected.
Jesus Is Persecuted
Jesus, the favorite Child of God, is persecuted. He who is poor, gentle, mourning; he who hungers and thirsts for uprightness; is merciful, pure of heart and a peacemaker is not welcome in this world. The Blessed One of God is a threat to the established order and a source of constant irritation to those who consider themselves the rulers of this world. Without his accusing anyone he is considered an accuser, without his condemning anyone he makes people feel guilty and ashamed, without his judging anyone those who see him feel judged. In their eyes, he cannot be tolerated and needs to be destroyed, because letting him be seems like a confession of guilt.
When we want to become like Jesus, we cannot expect always to be liked and admired. We have to be prepared to be rejected.
Monday, June 02, 2008
I Wrote... now sleep?
I have these moments where I spend most of an evening avoiding that which I desperately know that I need to do. Tonight was one of those moments.
I knew I needed to write. I knew I needed to pray. I was working at avoiding them both.
The restlessness became unbearable and I curled up in my chair with my journal.
I wrote.
I prayed.
And now, I'm hoping for some sleep.
I knew I needed to write. I knew I needed to pray. I was working at avoiding them both.
The restlessness became unbearable and I curled up in my chair with my journal.
I wrote.
I prayed.
And now, I'm hoping for some sleep.
A New Spirituality...
From a Sojourners mailing list email I receive daily:
I sense that a new spirituality is being born in the church today, flowing from the wounded hearts of the weak and broken who are crying out for friendship. This friendship is also a source of healing for those who answer their cry.
- Jean Vanier Spiritual Journeys
I sense that a new spirituality is being born in the church today, flowing from the wounded hearts of the weak and broken who are crying out for friendship. This friendship is also a source of healing for those who answer their cry.
- Jean Vanier Spiritual Journeys
Happening this week?
Here are some of the things I would like to happen this week (not the things I know for sure are happening, but the ones I’d like to fit in):
I’d like to connect with my friend J, to spend some time praying together
I’d like to find a place to live after June 30th
I’d like to rest
I’d like to make decisions, or at least begin the process of making decisions about my work situation, and whether or not to begin studying for my master’s degree in the fall.
I’d like to spend at least an hour curled up in a nicely scented hot bath, and lose myself in a fictional world.
I’d like to buy an umbrella
I’d like to cook at least one fresh meal
I’d like to eat berries of some sort
I’d like the tears that just don’t fall to start falling
I’d like to share stories with another friend, just recently returned from Bosnia and Croatia
I’d like to sip tea
I’d like to start a piece of writing that’s been brewing in my head for the last week or so.
I’d like to start sorting out my books (they probably need to be pared down a bit before moving)
I’d like to go for a long walk (even if it’s raining) by myself in Fish Creek Park
I’d like to connect with my friend J, to spend some time praying together
I’d like to find a place to live after June 30th
I’d like to rest
I’d like to make decisions, or at least begin the process of making decisions about my work situation, and whether or not to begin studying for my master’s degree in the fall.
I’d like to spend at least an hour curled up in a nicely scented hot bath, and lose myself in a fictional world.
I’d like to buy an umbrella
I’d like to cook at least one fresh meal
I’d like to eat berries of some sort
I’d like the tears that just don’t fall to start falling
I’d like to share stories with another friend, just recently returned from Bosnia and Croatia
I’d like to sip tea
I’d like to start a piece of writing that’s been brewing in my head for the last week or so.
I’d like to start sorting out my books (they probably need to be pared down a bit before moving)
I’d like to go for a long walk (even if it’s raining) by myself in Fish Creek Park
Enough, Enough?
So I’m sitting here at my desk again, sipping tea, like I do every morning, reflecting that the grey, rainy skies are matching my mental state quite nicely once again.
I’m asking myself the question “when is enough, enough?”
My work situation has been a disaster for months now. Ever since I returned from traveling back in February, really. The degree of “disaster” has varied. But overall, it’s been a disaster.
I’m tired. After a weekend of pondering (and trying to forget for a few hours) the latest in a long string of incidents, I find myself wondering if maybe it’s just time to move on?
Let me be clear. I love my boss. I love working for her. She’s the reason why, nearly two years into what was initially going to be a maximum one year “transition period” job, I’m still showing up at the office every morning. I love most of my coworkers, but there is one quite recent addition to the company who is just not a good fit in either our department or our company (in my opinion), and is consequently making my life and job far more difficult and miserable than they really need to be.
I’m not feeling malicious towards this person. At this point I’m not even angry anymore, I’m just tired of dealing with the situation. I’m tired of the pointed comments, and the petty rude emails. I’m tired of the fact that though our boss has intervened on several occasions, and is certainly aware of the situation, nothing seems to change.
I’m tired of having to double and triple think every word I say to this person, and every email I send, because I’ve been accused of “wanting payback”. I’m tired of having to defend my own integrity in the face of pettiness on the part of someone without a lot of integrity. I’m tired of being watched and accused and being told how I’m behaving.
Again, let me be clear. I haven’t been a saint. I have been angry. I have occasionally been rude, or simply chosen to ignore the existence of this person. But my genuine desire is to walk uprightly in the midst of even this most ridiculous and childish of situations. I’ve managed to keep the cutting personal remarks that would be so easy to stoop to making from spilling past my lips. I’m working on keeping them from forming in my mind at all. I’ve been deeply convicted by the passage where Jesus talks about “loving your enemies and praying for those who persecute you.” I will admit that at this point a growled “bless her, Lord” is all that I can generally manage in the midst of this situation. I will also admit to wondering if this "pray for those who persecute you" thing is going to kill me. But I'm trying, with Jesus' help I'm really trying.
And so this morning, after a weekend of pondering an accusation of rudeness and an attempt at payback in what I thought was a very professional (if short) email, I’m just tired, and I’m asking, “When is enough, enough?” Maybe it’s time to move on? To cut my daily commute in half by working downtown. To make a salary that is somewhat significantly larger than my current salary, because I’ve been willing to be a bit underpaid to enjoy my place of employment.
When is enough, enough?
I’m asking myself the question “when is enough, enough?”
My work situation has been a disaster for months now. Ever since I returned from traveling back in February, really. The degree of “disaster” has varied. But overall, it’s been a disaster.
I’m tired. After a weekend of pondering (and trying to forget for a few hours) the latest in a long string of incidents, I find myself wondering if maybe it’s just time to move on?
Let me be clear. I love my boss. I love working for her. She’s the reason why, nearly two years into what was initially going to be a maximum one year “transition period” job, I’m still showing up at the office every morning. I love most of my coworkers, but there is one quite recent addition to the company who is just not a good fit in either our department or our company (in my opinion), and is consequently making my life and job far more difficult and miserable than they really need to be.
I’m not feeling malicious towards this person. At this point I’m not even angry anymore, I’m just tired of dealing with the situation. I’m tired of the pointed comments, and the petty rude emails. I’m tired of the fact that though our boss has intervened on several occasions, and is certainly aware of the situation, nothing seems to change.
I’m tired of having to double and triple think every word I say to this person, and every email I send, because I’ve been accused of “wanting payback”. I’m tired of having to defend my own integrity in the face of pettiness on the part of someone without a lot of integrity. I’m tired of being watched and accused and being told how I’m behaving.
Again, let me be clear. I haven’t been a saint. I have been angry. I have occasionally been rude, or simply chosen to ignore the existence of this person. But my genuine desire is to walk uprightly in the midst of even this most ridiculous and childish of situations. I’ve managed to keep the cutting personal remarks that would be so easy to stoop to making from spilling past my lips. I’m working on keeping them from forming in my mind at all. I’ve been deeply convicted by the passage where Jesus talks about “loving your enemies and praying for those who persecute you.” I will admit that at this point a growled “bless her, Lord” is all that I can generally manage in the midst of this situation. I will also admit to wondering if this "pray for those who persecute you" thing is going to kill me. But I'm trying, with Jesus' help I'm really trying.
And so this morning, after a weekend of pondering an accusation of rudeness and an attempt at payback in what I thought was a very professional (if short) email, I’m just tired, and I’m asking, “When is enough, enough?” Maybe it’s time to move on? To cut my daily commute in half by working downtown. To make a salary that is somewhat significantly larger than my current salary, because I’ve been willing to be a bit underpaid to enjoy my place of employment.
When is enough, enough?
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