Odd Sort of Day

I'm sitting at my parent's house, thinking I should probably eat some supper, and then head out the door.  It's Thursday and that means it's house church night.  It also means I need to make sure I leave mom and dad's by 6:00 for the train station, to take a train one stop north.  If I don't leave here by 6:00, I might miss my bus connection at the next station north.  Since the bus only runs a few times an hour, missing it would rather complicate my evening plans.

House church is being led tonight by "that person".  The one that every group seems to have.  The one that no one is quite sure what to do with.  It should be an interesting experience and likely provide either humorous venting, or just straight-up giggles on the ride home later tonight.

My day started well, with a phone call from my former roommate and very dear friend, L.  We talked for close to two hours, catching up on three weeks or so of life, and a myriad of details.  It was the kind of conversation I'm learning to look for and love.  One that covers all the really important stuff of each of our lives, but still leaves room for lots of giggles, chatting, and just generally joyful and interested conversation.  We cover the important things, but without the intensity that can sometimes be so painfully present.  Or maybe just without the side effects of that intensity.  Whatever it is, I'm trying to have more of those kinds of important conversations, and less of the ones that leave me exhausted, teary, and unable to think straight.  It seems healthier some how, to find ways to talk about the important things without them taking over the entirety of my being.  Without getting sick and being unable to eat.  With laughter interspersed with tears.

And then, eventually, reality hit.  It always does.  The "I don't quite know what to do, but should probably look for work, but don't know what kind of work to look for, because I don't know if I'm going to school in January, and don't know for sure when I'll know if I'm going to school in January" reality that is currently the defining factor in my days.  One of my goals for today was to send out some resumes - to at least make an effort at productivity and finding a source of income.  The only question was what sort of work to apply for given the current reality.  I applied for a number of part-time gigs that I'm at least interested in, if not excessively passionate about.  And I applied for one, a contract position, that would fit some assumed needs just perfectly (except that it would likely preclude an escape I'd hoped to make.)  This one is one I could excel at, and feel passionate about.

I have the middle of the day doldrums a lot these days.  That sense of wandering, lack of purpose that I don't quite know what to do with.  The sense of stagnancy and sometimes worry that comes with waiting on many, many fronts.   The doldrums come and they hang out, and they make me panic as I feel my mood swing.  And so I push them away, filling time and space.  And waiting, always waiting.

It's been an odd sort of day.  One with extremes, and things that were completely lacking in extremes.  One where the doldrums hit hard and I worried at things in my head the way a small dog "worries" a toy until it comes free.  Not my most stellar of days, though one with lots of little things checked off of lists, and a number of things to add to a daily 5 list at the end of the day.

Tomorrow is a chance to do this again.  To be busy, and productive.  To work on diet and supplements and all the little physical things that also help with the doldrums.  To fill my time.  To talk with Jesus.  To wait patiently, without the worrying.  I'll try again tomorrow, and celebrate the little victories of today.

Medieval Help Desk

This one has been floating around youtube for quite a while now, but it still makes me chuckle, and I had to share.

Daily 5 - Year 2, Day 45

Today's Daily 5:

1. Perusing the library and finding one of the books I added to my list yesterday
2. a new vocabulary word (inchoate: only partly in existence)
3. sitting and reading in the sun
4. New York Fries
5. people watching
6. coffee/lunch with a new friend
7. a hug from a long time friend
8. the fun of seeing a newly pregnant friend
9. sharing honestly
10. sitting and laughing and catching up in the sun at Olympic Plaza

A Really Good Response

I've been living in a hole, and avoiding news lately, so I haven't heard yet about whatever the latest church scandal that spurred this post at Stuff Christians Like, but I really appreciated the perspective it offered.

I had a conversation just the other day about how frustrated I get by Christians who can only see the bad in the church (or in the sphere of church that happens to exist outside their particular theological worldview.)  It almost physically pains me to hear that (though I've certainly been guilty of that and a certain cynicism as well.  In any case, I really appreciated the gracious challenge to the tendency to gossip about another high profile church scandal that Jon Acuff presented, and I wanted to make sure to link to it here so that you all could see it too!

Monopoly Pieces and Conversation (California Part 6)

I think the best part of my recent escape to California was simply the hours and hours of conversation.  It was seeing where Lisa lives and works, meeting her family and friends, and then hours and hours, through everything that we did, of sharing stories.  The stories we'd already shared by email and in blog posts took on new life now that they had a personality and voice attached to them.  And we talked and talked.

I'll be honest in saying that I was a bit apprehensive.  I'm not exactly known for taking risks, or handling new things very well, and, while two years of emailing had me convinced that I wasn't walking into some sketchy situation, I still wondered a little what it would be like to spend an entire week with someone I'd never met - how I'd handle that.  I was pretty sure I didn't need to worry too much, but I did still wonder.

I didn't need to worry.  I walked off the plane in San Diego and into a hug.  A hug that was repeated over and over through the week.  A hug that I'm definitely missing now that we're back in our separate CA's.

Because a huge part of my day to day reality is that the people with whom I share history - the people who are closest to my heart - all tend to live far away, time in person with someone like that is precious to me.  And, while Lisa and I admittedly didn't have in person history, two years of emails gave us a great base to work with.

And we talked for hours and hours.  In fact, one of the days that I smile the most at as the memory returns is the Sunday afternoon.  She had a giant bucket of the little metal monopoly markers (the dog, car, hat, etc.) that needed to be sorted for the Sunday School Talent store at her church.  After we got home from church that day, and ate lunch, we settled in to sort the thousands of pieces in the bucket.  A few of those tokens even made the trip home with me, and are sitting in a spot where I can see them easily, and be reminded of the fun, and serve as prayer reminders as well.  We passed a book (pictured below) back and forth that we'd been using as a jumping off point for conversations, each of us taking a turn picking a question that we'd both answer.  And we spent hours sorting monopoly tokens and sharing life and stories and laughter. 

And tears.  My life is admittedly raw right now, and tears have been frustratingly close to the surface for months.  Per usual, and initially to my embarrassment, they made themselves known rather frequently.  But there was such a blessing in sitting across from a friend whose eyes I could meet through the tears.  A friend who repeatedly gathered me into a hug when the tears flowed as I finished whatever story it was that had triggered them.  A friend who saw all the messy stuff and still saw me and welcomed me into her home and her life.  That was a gift of a value that I cannot even describe.  To simply be loved on, to be challenged to continue to seek healing, in a time where my heart was so longing to simply be seen and loved, to not be judged for being broken, but to be seen as valuable, and encouraged to continue to fight to heal.

I thought of that gift that Lisa gave to me when I read this quote from Richard Rohr last weekend after getting home:

I hope you’ve met at least one Kingdom person in your life. They are surrendered and trustful people. You sense that their life is okay at the core. They have given control to Another and are at peace, which paradoxically allows them to calmly be in control. A Kingdom person lives for what matters, for life in its deepest and lasting sense. There’s a kind of gentle absolutism about their life-style, an inner freedom. Kingdom people feel like grounded yet spacious people at the same time, the best of conservative and the best of progressive at the same time.

Kingdom people are anchored by their awareness of God’s love deep within them and deep within everyone else too. They happily live on a level playing field, where even God has come to “pitch his tent” (the literal translation of John 1:14).  (Richard Rohr)

I'm thankful for the gift of time with a friend who offered me a place to exist that felt "grounded yet spacious" for a week.  And that gift, as well as the promise that I will be welcomed again, the next time I need to escape, was truly a treasure that I'll hold onto in the coming weeks and months as I walk through some challenging new things.

I'll close with some pictures of our monopoly sorting adventure, and the book that fueled lots of great conversation throughout the week.

 see the size of the pieces in perspective against the bucket?

 part way through the sort

 see?  a whole coffee table full of monopoly pieces!

The book that fed our conversation.  Not all of the questions are ones I'd ever use, but the ones we did use were great conversation starters and I'm already pondering what sort of book of that nature I can pick up to spur further conversations the next time we're together in person!