The kind of day...

I've been flipping back and forth for a while now, staring at a blank blogger screen and wondering what to write.

It was the kind of day where I (quite enjoyably) briefly bumped into a friend I hadn't seen since we graduated from high school eight years ago.

It was the kind of day where the last little coincidences that I wanted to encounter where the ones I came face to face with.

It was the kind of day where mid-way through an attempt at a yoga workout I was interrupted, and I never quite made it back to it.

It was the kind of day where there were moments when I felt totally helpless and incompetent at my company, small and petty even.

And the kind of day where there were moments when I knew that I could excel at, and maybe sometimes even love my job.

It was the kind of day where I listened to the audio here (and read the essay) and remembered how life-shaping the essay author's book was. And how that book was the background for a trip that in some ways still has much left unfinished, unsettled, and uncertain.

It was the kind of day where I traded emails with several different people.

The kind of day where I came home from work and did some organizing, sorting and cleaning.

And the kind of day where one memory was just too poignant, and (after a bit of discussion with a friend) I made the decision to tuck the physical reminder of it in a drawer for the time being.

It is the kind of day where I'm sitting in bed before 10 pm, with music softly playing.

Where I'll read a little, and pray a little, and then hopefully sleep.

Quote of the Day Brings Laughter

The daily quote on my calendar today made me chuckle.

"God always gives more than we ask." (Saint Marie-Victoire Couderc)

My immediate mental response was "No kidding."

Because sometimes God definitely gives what I wasn't even going to ask for.

And sometimes, his definition of "more" isn't quite what I had in mind.

For that matter, sometimes his definition of what I ask isn't quite what I had in mind.

I've glanced at the calendar off and on all day, and had to smile. Both at the reminder that God does indeed answer, and the chuckle that has come as I remember how rarely those were the answers I was in fact, looking for!

A few headlines...

More thoughts to come later today, but for now, these two headlines caught my attention this morning...

This story made me chuckle. I like a person who leverages what he knows and does well to get the sort of response and customer service he should have received in the first place.

This story just made me sad. I have an aunt who worked for years in a methadone clinic. And I'm sad that Calgary, which obviously badly needs this facility can't seem to reconcile it. And that the neighborhood is reacting so poorly. As one commenter on the article put it, "Don’t they say that the measure of a society is how the treat those members that are the least fortunate? The users of this clinic need the help that was going to be offered there, but I guess that won’t happen now."

Still...

I am trying to be still.

But my heart is (still) moving in many directions.

I'm thinking about a family whose blog I read, having found it via the blog of a friend. Both mother and son suffer or suffered from cancer. The mother lost that battle tonight. The son fights on. My heart goes out to them, and I find myself praying.

I'm still thinking about so many of the things I mentioned this morning.

I'm sitting quietly.

I unpacked a little more tonight. The things left to unpack are mostly the ones that are deeply ingrained with memories. Beautiful memories, but some that just at present feel bittersweet. It's easier to avoid the pain when it's packed away in boxes where I don't see it. Where it doesn't surround me.

I hung a plaque over my bed tonight. It's hung near my bed for years. A list of promises of Jesus that someone did by hand in calligraphy and gave to my family when I was a child. Somewhere along the way, I inherited it. And now, no matter where I live, it hangs near my bed as a reminder and a comfort. I think the words are somehow appropriate tonight, to close this post, and move my heart again towards prayer.

I will never leave you
I will heal all your diseases
I will save you
I will not condemn you
I will help you
I will answer you
I will love you
I will guide you
I will teach you
I will forgive you
I will bless you
I will lead you
I will protect you
I will strengthen you
I will give you joy
I will give you peace
I will satisfy you
I will not leave you comfortless
I will supply all your needs
I will prepare a home in heaven
I will refresh you
I will empower you
I will be yoked with you
I will share your burdens
I will give you eternal life
- signed, Jesus Christ

May my still wandering heart be still in the midst of those promises, and may the same be true for each of those who are so deeply on my heart tonight.

Wounded Healer

Henri Nouwen, as usual, continues to challenge me...

The Wounded Healer

Nobody escapes being wounded. We all are wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not "How can we hide our wounds?" so we don't have to be embarrassed, but "How can we put our woundedness in the service of others?" When our wounds cease to be a source of shame, and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers.

Jesus is God's wounded healer: through his wounds we are healed. Jesus' suffering and death brought joy and life. His humiliation brought glory; his rejection brought a community of love. As followers of Jesus we can also allow our wounds to bring healing to others.