It's a busy day.
By the time this post goes live, I'll have moved the first load of my belongings to my grandma's house, had a natural health treatment, (hopefully) gone grocery shopping, (hopefully) managed to get back behind the wheel of a car, and I'll be out for lunch with a long time friend. Oh, and I'm hoping to squeeze a quick trip to the bank in there somewhere too.
After all of that is done, I'll be home. I'm looking forward to catching another night of the Jesus Culture conference, and resting. The plan is to do some reading, maybe a little baking, enjoy opening a few packages that came in the mail this week, and that my mom is delivering this morning when she comes to pick me up, and just generally be quiet. I'm looking forward to quiet.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Remembering Ashes
Two years ago today, it was Ash Wednesday, and I was in Rome with dear friends.
It was the moment of a lifetime for me - to finally see some of the things I'd studied for all of those years in high school classes, and on through a university degree in European church history.
But it came on the tail end of 4 very challenging weeks, and I was a bit discombobulated.
It was a day that I won't ever forget, though, for all the deep memories it holds, and for where it came in a sequence of four or five very challenging days.
It ended with the final Ash Wednesday mass for the year, with two dear friends, in St. Peter's Basillica, in the Vatican.
That mass is full of moments that like others from this series of anniversaries are both hopelessly blurred and incredibly clear.
I was wearing my hair in French braids, and the feeling of the ashes in the part of the braids is one I still recall. The cross marked on my head. That moment standing before the priest as he spoke (in Italian, or maybe Latin). That day that reminds us of our fallibility - from dust we came, and to dust we will return.
It ushered in one of the most intense Lenten seasons of my life. A season of fasting and praying and waiting and longing.
Today I'm remembering the ashes. And the blessings spoken. And praying for those who were with me in those moments.
It was the moment of a lifetime for me - to finally see some of the things I'd studied for all of those years in high school classes, and on through a university degree in European church history.
But it came on the tail end of 4 very challenging weeks, and I was a bit discombobulated.
It was a day that I won't ever forget, though, for all the deep memories it holds, and for where it came in a sequence of four or five very challenging days.
It ended with the final Ash Wednesday mass for the year, with two dear friends, in St. Peter's Basillica, in the Vatican.
That mass is full of moments that like others from this series of anniversaries are both hopelessly blurred and incredibly clear.
I was wearing my hair in French braids, and the feeling of the ashes in the part of the braids is one I still recall. The cross marked on my head. That moment standing before the priest as he spoke (in Italian, or maybe Latin). That day that reminds us of our fallibility - from dust we came, and to dust we will return.
It ushered in one of the most intense Lenten seasons of my life. A season of fasting and praying and waiting and longing.
Today I'm remembering the ashes. And the blessings spoken. And praying for those who were with me in those moments.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Daily 5 - Day 177
Today's Daily 5:
- Friday!
- Got through a ton of "to dos" without rushing around or feeling stressed tonight
- Freshly painted finger and toe nails
- Watching Jesus Culture conference from the comforts of my bed for much of the evening - loved the worship!
- Crawling into freshly washed sheets
- Did a budget update, to reflect the unexpected year end bonus from work that I got. It's nice to have that blessing.
- Finished another audio book on my way home today - I really liked this one. I'll probably post about it in the next day or two.
- Thankful that even on a day with hard memories again, this year I'm seeing the places where my heart is healing
- Listened to a great sermon on my commute today too. There's something about someone who lives with integrity preaching the love of Christ that always stops me in my tracks.
- A candle lit in my oil burner all evening.
Friday, Looking Forward
I'm incredibly thankful that it's Friday.
I'm wearing a sling again today, giving my shoulder a bit more of a rest.
These are the things I'm looking forward to, the things that are making this "one more day" of work somehow doable.
I'm wearing a sling again today, giving my shoulder a bit more of a rest.
These are the things I'm looking forward to, the things that are making this "one more day" of work somehow doable.
- The church in Redding, California that I love to listen to sermons from is hosting a conference this weekend. And they're live-streaming it for free on their website. I'm totally looking forward to getting home from work tonight, and settling in with some of my "to do's" for the evening, while watching the Jesus Culture conference online. Love that I can be part of it from a distance.
- There was a new episode of Grey's Anatomy on last night (and maybe a new Private Practice as well). That means that at some point over the course of this weekend, I'll be settling in for an hour (or two) to catch up on my favorite television drama.
- I'm wearing jeans at work. And a hoodie. so good.
- I'm having my weekly lunch date with a coworker.
- I had a mug of passion tea.
- I had a meeting with a coworker this morning about a project that I was dreading tackling, and she decided it would actually be more suited to her position, and took it off of my plate!
- I received a bonus cheque from work this morning - a little extra money right now, especially unexpected money, when I'm in the midst of moving and car shopping, is a special blessing.
- I'm going to do my fingernails and my toenails, and put a clay mask on my face tonight.
- I'm going to book a hair appointment - love getting my hair done!
- I have a natural health treatment tomorrow morning that will hopefully aid in speeding my recovery.
- I'm having lunch with a long-time friend tomorrow.
- I'm moving the first load of stuff to my grandma's house tomorrow.
- I'm likely going to get behind the wheel of a car for the first time since my accident tomorrow. (Okay, so not exactly looking forward to this, but will be glad to get it over with!)
- I will crawl into bed tonight with freshly washed sheets and pajamas, and climb out of the shower to a freshly washed towel.
Surreal Anniversary
It's Friday morning.
Another "anniversary" day. This one is different again. 2 years ago today I was walking the stations of the cross in a monastery garden in Malta. That walk had some interesting and far reaching results. That day remains one of the more surreal experiences in my memory.
Have you ever seen the scene from one of the first seasons of Grey's Anatomy, where there's an unexploded bomb in a guy, and Meredith is in the operating room, and the others are scattered around the hospital trying to figure out what to do with themselves in the midst of this crisis? Izzie has the totally opposite stress reaction to what would be normal, and is finding everything hilariously funny, even the things that are so very not funny.
That day two years ago was like that. In fact, I remember calling that scene from Grey's to mind in the midst of that day.
I laughed in a panicked, I"ve completely lost it kind of way that day, sitting in a private chapel that we'd been invited into. It's that somewhat crazed laughter that really sticks out. That I'd hit a breaking point after four weeks of crazy experiences, and the completely surreal nature of the events of that day just struck me as funny. It took some time to control that laughter.
There were tears later, and fear.
Laying on my face in that same little chapel, only moments later.
A meeting of eyes that is burned in my memory.
A moment where I sensed God asking something of me, and I simply didn't, couldn't comply. That moment has taught me much, and has been the source of silent "what if's?" ever since.
Today I remember a walk to the cross, a tiny puppy named Simon that shaped all of us who were there, the exposure of hidden things, and laughter.
Because looking back, there is something incredibly funny in just how surreal that day really was.
One day I'll share the whole story. But today, today I'm just remembering. Grieving a little, and laughing a little too.
Another "anniversary" day. This one is different again. 2 years ago today I was walking the stations of the cross in a monastery garden in Malta. That walk had some interesting and far reaching results. That day remains one of the more surreal experiences in my memory.
Have you ever seen the scene from one of the first seasons of Grey's Anatomy, where there's an unexploded bomb in a guy, and Meredith is in the operating room, and the others are scattered around the hospital trying to figure out what to do with themselves in the midst of this crisis? Izzie has the totally opposite stress reaction to what would be normal, and is finding everything hilariously funny, even the things that are so very not funny.
That day two years ago was like that. In fact, I remember calling that scene from Grey's to mind in the midst of that day.
I laughed in a panicked, I"ve completely lost it kind of way that day, sitting in a private chapel that we'd been invited into. It's that somewhat crazed laughter that really sticks out. That I'd hit a breaking point after four weeks of crazy experiences, and the completely surreal nature of the events of that day just struck me as funny. It took some time to control that laughter.
There were tears later, and fear.
Laying on my face in that same little chapel, only moments later.
A meeting of eyes that is burned in my memory.
A moment where I sensed God asking something of me, and I simply didn't, couldn't comply. That moment has taught me much, and has been the source of silent "what if's?" ever since.
Today I remember a walk to the cross, a tiny puppy named Simon that shaped all of us who were there, the exposure of hidden things, and laughter.
Because looking back, there is something incredibly funny in just how surreal that day really was.
One day I'll share the whole story. But today, today I'm just remembering. Grieving a little, and laughing a little too.
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