- laughing at lines in emails from various friends
- spent some time today thinking about the incredible change I've seen in some of my friends as they've become mothers - this crazy blossoming in them that's been really cool to see. I was thinking about it because another friend is now within a month of her due date and I got an email from her today. Suppose it seems a weird topic for a happily single girl to be pondering, but I really do think it's been this incredible blessing, and I've loved watching my friends bloom in this way.
- listening to an audio book driving home from work today. the one I started on the weekend. actually quite enjoying this one, even when it's stirring some odd memories.
- peanut m&m's - okay, these haven't made my list in a while, give me a break. A girl's gotta have a little chocolate, and nuts are good for me (so is chocolate for that matter!) - I read an article at some point today that told me so :)
- not having to cook dinner - love when my roommate takes a turn and we still get to eat great food.
- grocery shopping is done for the week. and it was QUICK! love that!
- Did some meal prep for tomorrow night - a friend and her baby are joining us for dinner, and I'm making new recipe #2 for the month (which reminds me that I still haven't done anything about the photos of new recipe #1... I'll get on that... after this week, when I'm not insanely busy)
- feeling some changes in my heart, and loving them, and even being able to articulate them a little.
- candle lit in my oil burner all evening
- the grocery store actually had everything we needed (this is a rare occurrence, often leading to last minute meal ingredient subsitutions, and/or trips to a different grocery store after visiting the first store)
Monday, January 11, 2010
Daily 5 - Day 152
Today's Daily 5:
Two More From Henri
I'm still in the process of weeding through the many things I've flagged in my various email inboxes to share here, or comment on, so you can expect more mish-mash posts in the days to come, but in the meantime, here are two more thoughts that arrived in my inbox recently from Henri Nouwen...
Stepping over Our Wounds
Sometimes we have to "step over" our anger, our jealousy, or our feelings of rejection and move on. The temptation is to get stuck in our negative emotions, poking around in them as if we belong there. Then we become the "offended one," "the forgotten one," or the "discarded one." Yes, we can get attached to these negative identities and even take morbid pleasure in them. It might be good to have a look at these dark feelings and explore where they come from, but there comes a moment to step over them, leave them behind and travel on.
Trusting the Catcher
Trust is the basis of life. Without trust, no human being can live. Trapeze artists offer a beautiful image of this. Flyers have to trust their catchers. They can do the most spectacular doubles, triples, or quadruples, but what finally makes their performance spectacular are the catchers who are there for them at the right time in the right place.
Much of our lives is flying. It is wonderful to fly in the air free as a bird, but when God isn't there to catch us, all our flying comes to nothing. Let's trust in the Great Catcher.
Stepping over Our Wounds
Sometimes we have to "step over" our anger, our jealousy, or our feelings of rejection and move on. The temptation is to get stuck in our negative emotions, poking around in them as if we belong there. Then we become the "offended one," "the forgotten one," or the "discarded one." Yes, we can get attached to these negative identities and even take morbid pleasure in them. It might be good to have a look at these dark feelings and explore where they come from, but there comes a moment to step over them, leave them behind and travel on.
Trusting the Catcher
Trust is the basis of life. Without trust, no human being can live. Trapeze artists offer a beautiful image of this. Flyers have to trust their catchers. They can do the most spectacular doubles, triples, or quadruples, but what finally makes their performance spectacular are the catchers who are there for them at the right time in the right place.
Much of our lives is flying. It is wonderful to fly in the air free as a bird, but when God isn't there to catch us, all our flying comes to nothing. Let's trust in the Great Catcher.
Monday, Again
It's Monday morning, and my thoughts are all over the place again.
My clothing is really cute today, but nobody at the office is going to get to see that for another hour or two. They tend to turn the heat way down in the building over the weekends, and Monday mornings are always cold. It'll take an hour or so for the heater to kick in, and the sun to come up enough that it shines through my south facing office window and warms up. Once it warms up I'll peel off the polar fleece sweater I'm wearing over my top and really cute necklace, and then I'll feel all pretty and ready for the day again.
I was thinking this morning that I'm still in the midst of that weird, off-kilter space that I described last week. But, I started to learn over the weekend that I don't have to allow melancholy to sink in with it. I'd describe the way to combat that melancholy is to be relentless, almost vicious, in choosing differently. In choosing to find joy and to be thankful. I say almost vicious, simply because that's what it's taken. An almost vicious refusal to be melancholy. A very deliberate choice that this is something I'm going to reframe. (For example, I was exhausted and emotional after attending the house church gathering yesterday, and still feeling the loneliness of being "the new person" but I am choosing not to focus on those things, but rather to remember that I'm grateful that a whole room of people heard about child trafficking, that I had one decent conversation, that I met a girl who is potentially a roommate when my current roommate leaves at the end of February, that I collected a hug, and that the next gathering will be at least a little bit easier because I've gone to one.) Sometimes this choosing feels a bit like I'm avoiding the melancholy, or the weird off-kilter space. But I'm not any less aware of that off-centered feeling, that feeling of shift and change in the air. I'm simply choosing how I'm going to respond to it. Whether I'm going to let it overwhelm and scare me, or whether I'm going to acknowledge, listen to it, and watch and wait as it moves, but continue to live joyfully and thankfully in the midst of that. It's a draining process, to be really honest, but one I'm hoping will grow easier, and pay dividends of hope and peace and joy in my life. Because I'd rather live with those than with melancholy.
I was thinking this morning, too, about little blessings. I've wrestled with whether or not I was simply "settling" by trying to connect at this house church. I have a picture in my head of what I long for in a church. I've even been to a church that quite nicely embodies that (and actually formed my picture.) Unfortunately, that church is on the other side of the country and the commute would make it prohibitive to attend! I long to be in a space where the Spirit is moving visibly again. And yet, as I was pondering this morning, that at various moments yesterday, though there wasn't the really outward more visible signs of the moving of the Spirit that I longed for, as I listened to some people pray, and as I watched the room, I felt too the unmistakable presence of God. Just moments, but enough to confirm again that this is a place where I've been led for this next season.
And with that, I'm off to pay attention to work. I have a long list of phone calls to make, and conference planning tasks to begin to attack.
My clothing is really cute today, but nobody at the office is going to get to see that for another hour or two. They tend to turn the heat way down in the building over the weekends, and Monday mornings are always cold. It'll take an hour or so for the heater to kick in, and the sun to come up enough that it shines through my south facing office window and warms up. Once it warms up I'll peel off the polar fleece sweater I'm wearing over my top and really cute necklace, and then I'll feel all pretty and ready for the day again.
I was thinking this morning that I'm still in the midst of that weird, off-kilter space that I described last week. But, I started to learn over the weekend that I don't have to allow melancholy to sink in with it. I'd describe the way to combat that melancholy is to be relentless, almost vicious, in choosing differently. In choosing to find joy and to be thankful. I say almost vicious, simply because that's what it's taken. An almost vicious refusal to be melancholy. A very deliberate choice that this is something I'm going to reframe. (For example, I was exhausted and emotional after attending the house church gathering yesterday, and still feeling the loneliness of being "the new person" but I am choosing not to focus on those things, but rather to remember that I'm grateful that a whole room of people heard about child trafficking, that I had one decent conversation, that I met a girl who is potentially a roommate when my current roommate leaves at the end of February, that I collected a hug, and that the next gathering will be at least a little bit easier because I've gone to one.) Sometimes this choosing feels a bit like I'm avoiding the melancholy, or the weird off-kilter space. But I'm not any less aware of that off-centered feeling, that feeling of shift and change in the air. I'm simply choosing how I'm going to respond to it. Whether I'm going to let it overwhelm and scare me, or whether I'm going to acknowledge, listen to it, and watch and wait as it moves, but continue to live joyfully and thankfully in the midst of that. It's a draining process, to be really honest, but one I'm hoping will grow easier, and pay dividends of hope and peace and joy in my life. Because I'd rather live with those than with melancholy.
I was thinking this morning, too, about little blessings. I've wrestled with whether or not I was simply "settling" by trying to connect at this house church. I have a picture in my head of what I long for in a church. I've even been to a church that quite nicely embodies that (and actually formed my picture.) Unfortunately, that church is on the other side of the country and the commute would make it prohibitive to attend! I long to be in a space where the Spirit is moving visibly again. And yet, as I was pondering this morning, that at various moments yesterday, though there wasn't the really outward more visible signs of the moving of the Spirit that I longed for, as I listened to some people pray, and as I watched the room, I felt too the unmistakable presence of God. Just moments, but enough to confirm again that this is a place where I've been led for this next season.
And with that, I'm off to pay attention to work. I have a long list of phone calls to make, and conference planning tasks to begin to attack.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
