- These two posts, here, and here (read them in that order) about trust on Kirsten's blog. I've been quietly enjoying her blog for a while (loved the series about becoming Catholic for so many reasons), but particularly enjoyed reflecting on these latest two posts, especially given my own journey these last several years. In fact, I think I'll have to find time to write a post on trust one of these days.
- A mug of lemon-mango tea as I studied in the cold basement today.
- The memory of a lovely, special, sunny day by Lake Huron with a dear friend a few weeks back. I'm savoring memories of sun right now, since we've had almost two weeks of rain, and it poured again today.
- kit-kat bars
- butter chicken for supper. I'm learning to like curry! Maybe India (a place I've dreamed of traveling to) really will be doable someday!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Daily 5 - Day 307
Today's Daily 5:
Study Space
I have spent the day (since about 9:30 or so this morning) sitting here:
This is it. My study space in mom and dad's basement. (I've also spent a large portion of today wrapped in a thick blanket, since it's rainy and cold here, and the basement is therefore quite chilly.)
This sign used to sit in my office. It seems more appropriate hanging here, where I see it every time I look up from my textbooks and have to smile. Because my dreams came suddenly and unexpectedly, when I was ejected from the office that the sign used to sit in.
Curly Girl Designs put out a mini-calendar, and I ordered it at the beginning of this year, because I love the artwork it contains. I smiled when I pulled it out of the box of things I brought from my office and turned to the month of June. It reads, "She packed up her potential and all she had learned, grabbed a cute pair of shoes and headed out to change a few things." The smaller print reads, "Her heart glowed with a degree of happy assurance." I find it so funny, these little, odd timing things. These moments where it somehow seems perfect that this would be a quote for the month in which I make some life direction altering decisions.
Here you can see the calendar, with a couple of gifts from a dear friend. The cross reads "Hope" in the centre, and the book is a Catholic prayer book, an antique one, in Spanish. A gift from a friend who knows my heart deeply, knows my dreams of South America, and each time I pick it up, cradle it, read a prayer within it, my heart leaps and prays and dreams of things to come.
And these? These are the textbooks consuming my time at the moment. Just in front of them, where you can't see it, is a notepad, also emblazoned with the word "hope". A gift from a different friend, and my way of tracking the many things that must be done each day and week.
I've sat here all day, covering material that is sometimes fascinating, and sometimes incredibly boring. I've sipped tea and eaten lunch and checked emails. And I've studied. A lot. In the moments when I forget why this seemed like a good plan, to spend my days in a basement, reading and making notes, forcefully stuffing huge amounts of information into my brain in a short amount of time, I pause and re-read my own words here, or the comments so many sent me there, or by email, and I am reminded that though duckless, I am learning trust, and that I feel a deep peace, and that this is a step towards God's leading.
And somehow, that makes long days wrapped in a heavy blanket, cramming knowledge into my head, so much more doable.
This is it. My study space in mom and dad's basement. (I've also spent a large portion of today wrapped in a thick blanket, since it's rainy and cold here, and the basement is therefore quite chilly.)
This sign used to sit in my office. It seems more appropriate hanging here, where I see it every time I look up from my textbooks and have to smile. Because my dreams came suddenly and unexpectedly, when I was ejected from the office that the sign used to sit in.
Curly Girl Designs put out a mini-calendar, and I ordered it at the beginning of this year, because I love the artwork it contains. I smiled when I pulled it out of the box of things I brought from my office and turned to the month of June. It reads, "She packed up her potential and all she had learned, grabbed a cute pair of shoes and headed out to change a few things." The smaller print reads, "Her heart glowed with a degree of happy assurance." I find it so funny, these little, odd timing things. These moments where it somehow seems perfect that this would be a quote for the month in which I make some life direction altering decisions.
Here you can see the calendar, with a couple of gifts from a dear friend. The cross reads "Hope" in the centre, and the book is a Catholic prayer book, an antique one, in Spanish. A gift from a friend who knows my heart deeply, knows my dreams of South America, and each time I pick it up, cradle it, read a prayer within it, my heart leaps and prays and dreams of things to come.
And these? These are the textbooks consuming my time at the moment. Just in front of them, where you can't see it, is a notepad, also emblazoned with the word "hope". A gift from a different friend, and my way of tracking the many things that must be done each day and week.
I've sat here all day, covering material that is sometimes fascinating, and sometimes incredibly boring. I've sipped tea and eaten lunch and checked emails. And I've studied. A lot. In the moments when I forget why this seemed like a good plan, to spend my days in a basement, reading and making notes, forcefully stuffing huge amounts of information into my brain in a short amount of time, I pause and re-read my own words here, or the comments so many sent me there, or by email, and I am reminded that though duckless, I am learning trust, and that I feel a deep peace, and that this is a step towards God's leading.
And somehow, that makes long days wrapped in a heavy blanket, cramming knowledge into my head, so much more doable.
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