I Speak English

My major job at work right now is phoning families that have been referred to us by other agencies to set up appointments for them to come in and "shop" for toys for their children for Christmas.  It's fabulous, as it basically means that all day every day I'm making people happy. 

However, making these phone calls all day has made me incredibly aware of how much of a blessing it is to be living in a place where I speak the dominant language fluently.  Most of the people I phone are immigrants with varying degrees of ability to speak English.  I can't even imagine how difficult it would be to navigate a new culture on a daily basis, knowing people are trying to communicate important information to you about appointments, about your immigration status, about your health and children, and have to struggle to understand.

That said, there have been some moments of general hilarity, or deep poignancy.  The woman who was so relieved when I called, and admitted she was having a hard day.  She'd lost a baby recently, and was grieving.  She told me that she was so happy I called because she was doing enough grieving, and she didn't want her living child to also grieve.  Being able to provide Christmas for her child was a miracle in her day, and I got to be a part of it.  There was one woman who turned down my offer of an appointment, telling me that while her income was still low, she could provide for her children, and she'd rather the gifts go to a family who was in the place hers had been a few years ago.  And then there was the woman who, when I asked her to spell her last name, did so emphatically, in her thickly accented English, and had me working hard not to burst into laughter.  Her response?  "It's Fu.  Eff.  You!"  I cracked up as soon as I hung up the phone.  The whole thing was made far funnier by her complete lack of awareness as she proudly spelled her name for me, ensuring we were communicating smoothly!

These are my days, and I'm glad I speak English.  It's something I took for granted, and patiently calling these people day after day is making me re-think that.  It's a blessing to speak the dominant language of the country in which you live.  And it's one I'll remember, if, as I dream of, I one day find myself transplanted to some place where I am no longer fluent in the dominant language.

Daily 5 - Year 2, Day 106

Today's Daily 5:

1. A productive morning
2. eating yummy leftovers for lunch
3. our boss stopping by with a dessert treat for us
4. starting work early means finishing work early
5. a leisurely hot shower
6. quiet evening
7. finishing up the Jesse Tree ornaments and hanging the first one
8. watching the latest episode of The Amazing Race

Monday

My body has still not adjusted sleep schedules to be working.  I'm still up too late every night, and mornings come sort of painfully early.

But, it's something of a consolation to know that when I get to work, it's an office without the painful and constant tensions and frustrations of the job that ended in the spring.  That when I get here, the phone calls I make won't be from people with grievances, but from people who are delighted to hear from me, because I'm the person calling to tell them that they're going to be able to provide gifts for their kids this Christmas.

This morning I have an aching neck, and a scraped up forearm.  Last night I was hanging a string from my ceiling, while standing on a chair.  A string on which to hang the Jesse Tree Advent ornaments I spent last night (and most likely tonight) creating.  Unfortunately, with my usual athletic grace (have I mentioned that I tend to be sarcastic?) I managed to overbalance myself, and nearly fall off the chair.  I jerked my neck (again, no surprise there, either.  I have unique neck injuring skills.) and scraped a bunch of skin off of my right forearm as I careened downward while attempting to at least land on my feet.

In the meantime, I'm sitting here for a few moments in my office, before the usual maelstorm of crazy begins.  Christmas, it seems, is a little bit crazy around here.  I have a mug of pomegranate green tea.  I've managed to eat a little bit of breakfast, and I'm getting ready to wince as I hear just how many voicemails came in over the weekend, waiting for call-backs from me. 

But it's quiet, and I'm feeling peaceful.  And that's worth being thankful for.

Daily 5 - Year 2, Day 105

Today's Daily 5:

1. 1 year, 105 days of making these lists
2. sleeping late
3. Starbucks from a friend
4. Painting pottery at a local shop with a friend and talking as we painted
5. recognizing growth
6. visiting a dollar store with mom and finding the items I was hunting for
7. laughing over the fact that the first advent candle that I was so dreading signifies hope
8. sparkly tissue paper for wrapping a gift
9. getting a ride home
10. spending the evening being creative, and assembling the first half of the Jesse tree ornaments from this blog, for the way I've chosen to uniquely recognize Advent this year.  I printed the ornaments and sat on the floor of my bedroom for a couple hours with various scrapbook supplies scattered around me, making the ornaments unique and personal and pretty.
11. a surprise few minutes of skype with a dear friend who is currently traveling
12. recognizing growth and being surprised and blessed to discover it
13. sitting here, propped in bed, and staring at the map of the world and "wall of happy" across from me
14. taking time to paint my fingernails
15. a weekend that was primarily quiet and full of restful things
16. escapist television on dvd
17. a mug of tea
18. sweet smelling oil in my oil burner
19. making choices out of care and restraint
20. finding reasons to laugh, and feel joy

First Advent

It's Sunday morning again, and I'm again laying in a darkened room, pondering.

It's the beginning of Advent today.  A new church year.  Just another season of waiting and longing.

And honestly, as I was laying here, I was pondering if I would even choose to acknowledge that this year.

This whole year has been full of drama, of feeling ripped apart, of waiting and longing.

I'm pretty tired of the longing.

Ironic for me to say that, given that just recently I wrote here about the fact that I feel like God has been challenging me to really long for things, to really dream and long for those dreams to be fulfilled.

And so I was laying here, pondering if this year I would "celebrate" (what a ridiculous word for recognizing this season) Advent.  I feel guilty for wanting to ignore it, for ignoring that part of my heart that just naturally tunes itself to the church year.  But honestly, I don't know that I'm up for that this year - for the aching that comes in these four weeks, waiting again for the coming of a Savior.

So I thought about how I could do it differently.  Could I skip the candles?  Is there a way to make this less of an achingly painful journey of waiting and more of a joyful expectation?  Could I just ignore it all together and show up on Christmas Day, and welcome a Savior?

Out of curiosity I clicked through here, to a site I bookmarked in one of the last several years, to see what candle is the first for Advent.

And the part of me that has fallen in love with a God who has a very ironic sense of humor in our conversations started laughing.

Hope.

The candle for today is Hope.

Hope followed by love, joy and peace.

Those don't so much sound like achingly painful concepts.  Maybe the opposite, actually.

And here's the thing - I'm on this journey of recognizing some twisted concepts in how I relate to God.  Like, for example, the idea that the only true moments of encounter with God are intense, scary, and painful.  The Advent season, for example, perhaps doesn't have to be marked solely by pain.

And that, that is a thought I needed to have whispered to me this year.

I don't know yet how I'll mark this Advent season.  For the last year, the Christ candle from my previous wreath has sat on my dresser, waiting, only being lit occasionally through the months. 

Tonight, though, if only for one week, I'll probably light a candle.  The space I live in could use the light of hope today.

And I'm pondering this.  Having a "Jesse Tree" this year.  (Though in my odd living reality, it will probably be not so much a tree as a string, hung across my map of the world and wall of happy memories.)

And who knows?  Maybe an Advent wreath will make an appearance.  Because hope, love, joy and peace are concepts I'm wanting a little more of in my life these days.  Because God is a God of those things, and meeting Him can be filled with those, instead of with fear, intensity, and pained exhaustion.

So, Come Lord Jesus.  Come and bring hope this day.