It's funny, you know.
I'm going to the mountains today, and I've been looking forward to this for a few weeks.
But today, after the week I've had, it's the last place in the world that I want to be.
I'm not looking forward to all the driving (which I have to do because of the vehicle we're taking), or to being in the places I'm going to. Quite frankly I'd like to stay at home, hole up alone in my bedroom and cry.
The girls I'm going with know me well, and I don't have to totally hide my headspace. But there is a certain need to be "on". To have energy. To be into conversation instead of needing to process quietly in my own head.
I'm praying for the energy and ability to enjoy this day.
Because at the moment, I'm dreading it.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Insecure
I'm awake way too early.
Granted, I have to be out of the house by 9:15 on my way to the day's plans, but this is too early.
And I'm feeling neurotic and insecure.
I shared some rather vulnerable thoughts with a dear friend last night (and, to clarify up front, the response was fine).
But, even when the response was fine, the neuroses and insecurities rise up. The voices get loud, and sometimes they gain power.
I always forget that that's going to happen when I share myself, particularly the deeper parts of me, in writing. But it happens every time. I think it's kind of like how they say that women forget the pain of labor so that they'll have another child. If I remembered how strong the voices of insecurity would become, I'd be less likely to share.
These days I'm better at combatting them, and the lies they tell. In fact, I was quite amused as I journaled about one of the lines they were using last night. It was, I wrote, both the most difficult, and the easiest to counter.
They get loud, and for a day or two I'm neurotic.
In any case, I liked this line that Hope posted to her blog last night. You can find it here. I'm praying for my authentic self to appear.
Granted, I have to be out of the house by 9:15 on my way to the day's plans, but this is too early.
And I'm feeling neurotic and insecure.
I shared some rather vulnerable thoughts with a dear friend last night (and, to clarify up front, the response was fine).
But, even when the response was fine, the neuroses and insecurities rise up. The voices get loud, and sometimes they gain power.
I always forget that that's going to happen when I share myself, particularly the deeper parts of me, in writing. But it happens every time. I think it's kind of like how they say that women forget the pain of labor so that they'll have another child. If I remembered how strong the voices of insecurity would become, I'd be less likely to share.
These days I'm better at combatting them, and the lies they tell. In fact, I was quite amused as I journaled about one of the lines they were using last night. It was, I wrote, both the most difficult, and the easiest to counter.
They get loud, and for a day or two I'm neurotic.
In any case, I liked this line that Hope posted to her blog last night. You can find it here. I'm praying for my authentic self to appear.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Friday night...
My office closed an hour early today.
I was hoping to make it to the park to walk and pray for a while before I needed to be home.
Traffic had other plans.
After I'd been driving for an hour, and it was clear that the park would be out of the question, I gave up on the audio book I was listening to and decided to give praying in the car a shot.
(Usually when I'm in that space, I need to be walking to concentrate enough to pray.)
It helped. Quite a bit.
So I'm thankful for a God who shows up, even when I'm cranky and stuck in traffic.
And I'm thankful for time sitting with a journal to process the last few days.
And for the fact that it was one of the rare nights when my roommate was doing the cooking, so I could simply come home, shower, and curl up with my journal.
I'm thankful for the steak and potatoes she barbequed, and for an evening hanging out with a movie playing while I did some writing and caught up on emails.
It's been a long week, and I'm thankful that it's the weekend, and I have a few days that are a bit lower key.
I was hoping to make it to the park to walk and pray for a while before I needed to be home.
Traffic had other plans.
After I'd been driving for an hour, and it was clear that the park would be out of the question, I gave up on the audio book I was listening to and decided to give praying in the car a shot.
(Usually when I'm in that space, I need to be walking to concentrate enough to pray.)
It helped. Quite a bit.
So I'm thankful for a God who shows up, even when I'm cranky and stuck in traffic.
And I'm thankful for time sitting with a journal to process the last few days.
And for the fact that it was one of the rare nights when my roommate was doing the cooking, so I could simply come home, shower, and curl up with my journal.
I'm thankful for the steak and potatoes she barbequed, and for an evening hanging out with a movie playing while I did some writing and caught up on emails.
It's been a long week, and I'm thankful that it's the weekend, and I have a few days that are a bit lower key.
Continuing from yesterday...
Continuing thoughts from Henri Nouwen from yesterday... still hitting my heart quite painfully...
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 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.
Random Thoughts
I can't handle writing an acutal post this morning. My thoughts are all over the place and most of them aren't that pretty. There is a temporary truce or lull in the ongoing conversation with God this week, while I sort some things out, and the temptation to simply go silent for a while is strong. But, I know it is rarely a helpful thing for me to store everything inside of me, so I'm here this morning, to loose at least some of the things that are on my mind.
Yesterday, in itself was a hard day. Part of a string of two or three weeks now that have been full of processing and struggle. I had plans last night to see my brother and his girlfriend. T had invited me to join them for dinner and then hang out for the evening.
It was just the sort of evening that was rather badly needed. Some of the things that have been going on in my life have a tendency to become all-consuming, and they've also been things I've been able to discuss with only a limited number of people. T and L (his girlfriend) have been two of those people. But last night, last night I made a deliberate choice and effort not to bring them up. I didn't want to go there. I wanted a night off. So we talked a bit about work (T is working at three different and very varied part time jobs just presently) and T harrassed me about how "professional" my newly arrived business cards make me sound. I let them feed me dinner. I let T plan the evening. All I had to do was take the money he handed me and make a quick trip to the video rental place to pick up the movie he'd suggested for the evening. He offered to make L and I ice cream cones, and we accepted. We watched a kids movie ("Bedtime Stories" with Adam Sandler) and laughed the whole way through. (I think we'd all recommend this one.) We talked a bit about some funny books I've been reading lately too. I needed a night off.
I came home and went nearly straight to bed.
This morning I find myself wishing for more moments like those, and less of the whole "dealing with reality" thing.
I'm thinking about a variety of other things too.
Like the fact that my navel piercing is itchy today. Which I know is a good sign. It means that healing is definitely in process now. But it's itchy, and it also means I'll have to work harder to not disturb it.
And the fact that I'm having trouble breathing. I discovered the reason for this when I got into my car this morning and noticed the thick dusting of yellow pollen covering George. Right. Spring allergies.
These two items mean there is a trip to the drugstore in my future. I need epsom salts for bathing my belly button (apparently taking 5-10 minute baths in well salted water aids the healing process) and I'm going to require allergy drugs to allow for better breathing and better sleeping.
And with that, I'm headed into the day. I'm thankful it's Friday. I'm thankful I'm wearing jeans. I'm hopeful that we'll get rain, and possibly even a thunderstorm later today.
Yesterday, in itself was a hard day. Part of a string of two or three weeks now that have been full of processing and struggle. I had plans last night to see my brother and his girlfriend. T had invited me to join them for dinner and then hang out for the evening.
It was just the sort of evening that was rather badly needed. Some of the things that have been going on in my life have a tendency to become all-consuming, and they've also been things I've been able to discuss with only a limited number of people. T and L (his girlfriend) have been two of those people. But last night, last night I made a deliberate choice and effort not to bring them up. I didn't want to go there. I wanted a night off. So we talked a bit about work (T is working at three different and very varied part time jobs just presently) and T harrassed me about how "professional" my newly arrived business cards make me sound. I let them feed me dinner. I let T plan the evening. All I had to do was take the money he handed me and make a quick trip to the video rental place to pick up the movie he'd suggested for the evening. He offered to make L and I ice cream cones, and we accepted. We watched a kids movie ("Bedtime Stories" with Adam Sandler) and laughed the whole way through. (I think we'd all recommend this one.) We talked a bit about some funny books I've been reading lately too. I needed a night off.
I came home and went nearly straight to bed.
This morning I find myself wishing for more moments like those, and less of the whole "dealing with reality" thing.
I'm thinking about a variety of other things too.
Like the fact that my navel piercing is itchy today. Which I know is a good sign. It means that healing is definitely in process now. But it's itchy, and it also means I'll have to work harder to not disturb it.
And the fact that I'm having trouble breathing. I discovered the reason for this when I got into my car this morning and noticed the thick dusting of yellow pollen covering George. Right. Spring allergies.
These two items mean there is a trip to the drugstore in my future. I need epsom salts for bathing my belly button (apparently taking 5-10 minute baths in well salted water aids the healing process) and I'm going to require allergy drugs to allow for better breathing and better sleeping.
And with that, I'm headed into the day. I'm thankful it's Friday. I'm thankful I'm wearing jeans. I'm hopeful that we'll get rain, and possibly even a thunderstorm later today.
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