We had truly beautiful thunderstorms yesterday afternoon and again this afternoon. The lightning was stunning to watch from my office window. Rain pouring down on thirsty ground, bringing clean air.
My heart needed the rains to come. I find myself praying for that washing clean within me as well.
There was a time I'd have found these ancient lyrics gruesome, but I have been listening to the song here, and letting my heart be ministered to and deeply encouraged by them tonight. "Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be 'til I die."
My plans for the evening actually didn't change too much from what I formulated this afternoon.
I replaced comfort food with Vietnamese take-out, and substituted a short shower for the planned longer one.
During the brief stop at my parent's home, my dad made me laugh with his eagerness to share a fact with me that he'd learned during the first aid class he is taking all day today and tomorrow. Apparently, if I ever have heart problems, and require the aid of a defibrillator, and still have my navel piercing (which he and mom found out about on Sunday after arriving home from Africa, and promptly rolled their eyes at), I'm likely to have a burn where the piercing is, because the metal attracts and conducts the electrical current! Such lovely information, but his eagerness to share it with me, while grinning at me did make me laugh. That and his story about the teacher's rather unfortunate and completely unknowing miss-use of a word.
There was a funny little moment when I showed Dad the new business cards that arrived for me last week. He wanted to know if he could keep it. And then mom wanted one too. She wants to put it on the refrigerator. Their response made me smile. Because in a funny way it was them telling me in a way that I could hear (and that hasn't always been the case!) that they love me and are proud of me. And oh, my heart needed to hear that from some of the people I love today.
Monty Python was brilliant. Just the right mix of intelligence and sillyness, with a British accent. (Everything really does sound better in a British accent!) I'd forgotten just how much great historical and political humor "The Holy Grail" contained. I'd even forgotten that it contains so much that one of my political science professors in university actually showed bits and pieces of it as illustrations in class. It was also just the right length. Just as I was thinking that I'd hit my tolerance point for that sort of humor for one night, it came to an end.
I caught up on facebook, and played a computer game while I watched.
I ate some childhood candy favorites that I picked up at the grocery store recently (cola bottles and peanut m&m's).
I'm feeling relaxed and sort of peaceful (there are things stirring under the surface) for the first time in a while.
I felt my focus shift. Looking forward.
We're still waiting to confirm the date, but it's quite likely (and preferable really) that we'll be moving a week from Saturday or Sunday. That means it's time to get down to the details of packing and sorting.
I've sold my current bed frame, and the people who bought it are likely coming over to disassemble and pick it up on Friday night. Which means I need to empty the storage in it, and do some packing. And that I need to clean my bedroom a bit so that maneuvering in there is possible.
It means I need to call the thrift store and find out when they accept donations, and where to drop them off.
It means that a few minutes from now I'll be heading for my bedroom to do at least a little bit of cleaning before curling up in bed with a book for a bit.
I'm quite looking forward to closing my day with more of the achingly beautiful prayers from the book I quoted this morning. I need the sort of deep honesty and beautiful, but plain spoken words they're providing these days. My heart is just a bit at a loss for words of it's own right now, feeling hurt and tired, and finding my own voice in echoing someone else is helpful.
So I'll clean for a while - because that too, is a prayer. A prayer for order and peace and restoration. And then I'll read scripture and some prayers, and let my heart find a voice for a little while before praying for rest.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Plan
Have you all figured out yet that I'm a much happier individual when there is some semblance of planning and order in my life? It can be a totally flexible plan, and can change completely upon arrival at the time for execution of the plan, but I'm a less stressed, happier person if there is some sort of plan in place as a starting point.
That said, I have a plan for the evening.
I will drive from work to the library branch where they are holding a copy of a DVD that I requested.
(I may stop at my parent's house, depending on a returned phone call, to pick up any mail that may be waiting for me there.)
From the library I will go home, pre-heat the oven, and toss in some comfort food. (In my case, tonight that likely means chicken fingers and french fries.)
While said comfort food is cooking, I will likely take a long, hot shower, and then put on my comfy pajamas.
Theoretically neither of my roommates, nor the fiancee tag-a-long who is a near constant presence in our home these days, will actually be at home for the greater portion of the evening.
Thus, following my shower, I will settle in the living room with my laptop, and my plate of comfort food, wrap my pajama clad self in a blanket, and put the dvd I will have picked up from the library in the dvd player. I will then spend a few happy hours watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail, while surfing the internet, or playing a computer game. This will be followed by some reading, and a hopefully early bedtime.
Of course, these plans are entirely flexible and subject to change depending on a wide variety of circumstances, and my own mood, but just at this moment, I can't think of anything I'd enjoy quite so much as an evening of British humor (quirky, and oddly intelligent and appealing to the history/poly sci major that lurks within me) while curled up on a couch in my pajams. Except possibly conversations with one of a very few people. Those would definitely be better than Monty Python!
That said, I have a plan for the evening.
I will drive from work to the library branch where they are holding a copy of a DVD that I requested.
(I may stop at my parent's house, depending on a returned phone call, to pick up any mail that may be waiting for me there.)
From the library I will go home, pre-heat the oven, and toss in some comfort food. (In my case, tonight that likely means chicken fingers and french fries.)
While said comfort food is cooking, I will likely take a long, hot shower, and then put on my comfy pajamas.
Theoretically neither of my roommates, nor the fiancee tag-a-long who is a near constant presence in our home these days, will actually be at home for the greater portion of the evening.
Thus, following my shower, I will settle in the living room with my laptop, and my plate of comfort food, wrap my pajama clad self in a blanket, and put the dvd I will have picked up from the library in the dvd player. I will then spend a few happy hours watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail, while surfing the internet, or playing a computer game. This will be followed by some reading, and a hopefully early bedtime.
Of course, these plans are entirely flexible and subject to change depending on a wide variety of circumstances, and my own mood, but just at this moment, I can't think of anything I'd enjoy quite so much as an evening of British humor (quirky, and oddly intelligent and appealing to the history/poly sci major that lurks within me) while curled up on a couch in my pajams. Except possibly conversations with one of a very few people. Those would definitely be better than Monty Python!
Achingly beautiful...
Did I mention last night that I stopped yesterday at the used Christian bookstore in town? They'd called to let me know that they'd tracked down a book I'd requested, so I stopped to pick it up. While I was there I browsed the usual sections I wander through, pulling a simple book of poetic prayers off the shelf because I recognized the name of the author.
I'll admit it - sometimes I judge a book by it's cover. And this particular book had all the right ingredients on the cover. A lovely looking picture. A great title, and the name of an author I like and respect. I read two or three lines from the inside, glanced at the price ($6.00!!!) and made the rather immediate decision to purchase the book.
I closed the day yesterday by reading several of the prayers contained in this book. And I marveled at their beauty. A beauty that made my heart ache, and long for so much more.
I'm tired this morning, after another night of restless tossing and turning. I'm frustrated by my body's inability to sleep, as I was sleeping deeply, and well through most of the last several weeks. I'm struggling with some health issues again, trying to wait them out, and feeling less than well in the midst of that. And quite frankly, I'm feeling just a bit tired of myself right now.
So, rather than begin this day by whining, let me share one of the achingly beautiful prayers that the book contained.
At the Dawn
Our first glimpse of reality this day - everyday - is your fidelity.
We are dazzled by the ways you remain constant among us,
in season, out of season,
for better, for worse,
in sickness and in health.
You are there in watchfulness as we fall asleep;
You are there in alertness when we awaken...and we are glad.
Before the day ends, we will have occasion
to flag your absence in indifference...
but not now, not at the dawn.
Before the day ends, we will think more than once
that we need a better deal from you...
but not now, not at the dawn.
Before the day ends, we will look away from you and
relish our own fidelity and our virtue in mercy...
but not now, not at the dawn.
Now, at the dawn, our eyes are fixed on you in gladness.
We ask only that your faithfulness
permeate every troubled place we are able to name,
that your mercy
move against the hurts to make new,
that your steadfastness
hold firmly what is too fragile on its own.
And we begin the day in joy, in hope, and in deep gladness. Amen.
(From "Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter Bruggemann")
I'll admit it - sometimes I judge a book by it's cover. And this particular book had all the right ingredients on the cover. A lovely looking picture. A great title, and the name of an author I like and respect. I read two or three lines from the inside, glanced at the price ($6.00!!!) and made the rather immediate decision to purchase the book.
I closed the day yesterday by reading several of the prayers contained in this book. And I marveled at their beauty. A beauty that made my heart ache, and long for so much more.
I'm tired this morning, after another night of restless tossing and turning. I'm frustrated by my body's inability to sleep, as I was sleeping deeply, and well through most of the last several weeks. I'm struggling with some health issues again, trying to wait them out, and feeling less than well in the midst of that. And quite frankly, I'm feeling just a bit tired of myself right now.
So, rather than begin this day by whining, let me share one of the achingly beautiful prayers that the book contained.
At the Dawn
Our first glimpse of reality this day - everyday - is your fidelity.
We are dazzled by the ways you remain constant among us,
in season, out of season,
for better, for worse,
in sickness and in health.
You are there in watchfulness as we fall asleep;
You are there in alertness when we awaken...and we are glad.
Before the day ends, we will have occasion
to flag your absence in indifference...
but not now, not at the dawn.
Before the day ends, we will think more than once
that we need a better deal from you...
but not now, not at the dawn.
Before the day ends, we will look away from you and
relish our own fidelity and our virtue in mercy...
but not now, not at the dawn.
Now, at the dawn, our eyes are fixed on you in gladness.
We ask only that your faithfulness
permeate every troubled place we are able to name,
that your mercy
move against the hurts to make new,
that your steadfastness
hold firmly what is too fragile on its own.
And we begin the day in joy, in hope, and in deep gladness. Amen.
(From "Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter Bruggemann")
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