|
| I should not write an entry right now seeing as i am to be at work in less than seven hours and will be at work potentially for a solid 16 hours....but i'm not quite unwound yet from work tonight. Lying in bed before I am tired is not an option because I despise not being able to sleep. So, bedtime story?
There once was a girl who used to write her thoughts for others to read but has ceased to do so as frequently. If you are wondering what life has been like though for the girl, here's a snippet. Relationships have been full of change and challenges. Some of them have been nothing but beautiful, some of them have been just different, some hard, some not healthy and some her fault. Sometimes she does ok with it all and other times she just really does not. Every day....no, every moment of every day brings new opportunities to make the decision of whether to pursue or to withdraw and ignore anyone but herself. She withdrew a lot today and but has hopes that tomorrow will be different.
| | |
| The excuse I will hold out to you as to why there have been no updates is that the Internet in our apartment has been suffering as of late. But here's an except out of a book I started last week though I have been forced to wait for my own copy to arrive on my doorstep from amazon so that i can finish it....
Traveling Mercies
Anne Lamott
“…Oh, God, I said, inhaling loudly, tell me what to do—would
it be much skin off your nose just to give me a sign?
And then
the music began.
Mandolin
music. A folksy bluegrass trio began
playing, the mandolin offering the quavering melody, then two guitars joined
in, and then three voices singing. We
turned slowly to look at the musicians.
A woman got up from her table and began to dance on the lawn between us
and the stage, all by herself, and I thought to myself, I wish I were the kind
of person who could dance in public, not caring what everyone thought. And I wanted to be this way so badly that
after a minute I just got up, moved closer to the music, toward the one woman
dancing, and slowly and very shyly and without enormous visible grace, began to
move in time to the music. I figured
that once I stepped forward into the spotlight, another would appear somewhere
near my feet, and if it didn’t, at least I’d have the chance to dance.
So I did, dancing
with my eyes closed so as not to be distracted. Nietzche said that he could only believe in a God who would
dance, and I feel the same way: not
Jesus as John Travolta but Jesus as Judith Jamison, the great black dancer with
Alvin Ailey, a shining, long-limbed, elegant crane.
Then out of
nowhere a memory bobbed into my head of the most important conversation I have
ever had, and I understood that this was the next circle of light into which I
might step. Many years ago, I was
walking beside the salt marsh with a minister I had met recently. I was two months pregnant and had scheduled
an abortion because I was alone and so broke.
But I was having second thoughts.
I decided to let this minister in on this, and after listening quietly,
he said he thought I should have the abortion; he pointed out that there was no
safety net underneath me at the time—no family money, no expected windfall—that
there was nothing between me and the streets or welfare.
But what
about God? I asked. What about faith?
Well, yes,
the priest conceded, there’s that. “But
I’d like you to try something,” he said.
“Get quiet for a moment, and then think about having the abortion: if you feel a deep and secret sense of
relief, pay attention to that. But if
you feel deeply grieved at the thought of it, listen to that.”
I did what
he said, thought about the abortion, which theoretically and politically I
support. But I was stabbed with grief,
and the grief did not pass, and I canceled the abortion. And seven months later I gave birth to the
little kid who now wanted to fly off the mountain.
So
right then on the dance floor, dancing to the bluegrass music, I got very
quiet. I thought about how I would feel
if I let Sam jump: my heart leapt into my throat, as if to escape rising
water. Then I thought about how I would
feel if I called the paraglide pilot and canceled. I felt euphoric, like Zorba the Greek; I felt like getting
everyone up on their feet so we could all dance the mazurka and clink steins
full of root beer. Instead I went off
to find a telephone, and cancel."
God speaks my friends.....in many different ways. Praise Him.
| | |
| I makes lists of a lot of my life....regular day to day to do lists, longer term to do lists, things i want to do, places i want to go, things i should be saving money for, prayers, prayers answered--a new list this past summer was the 'pending list' created while co-directing the camp, enabling us to cross things off our lists even though they weren't done and even though we were just moving that item from the 'to do' list to the 'pending list'. hmmm...slightly obsessive?? or just pretty organized?
Lists do help organize my life...and pass time at work. I rarely forget much of anything whether that be items, meetings, deadlines, etc. Sometimes if I haven't written something down that I know I need to remember to do the next day and am attempting to fall asleep, I have to roll over and write it down on one of the post-it notes that i keep right by my bed. Even if i am aware it might not be ledgible in the morning because i wrote it in the dark, i can relax and fall right asleep. I cannot hold all of what daily life asks of me in my head like some seem to do. No, i require many different colors of post-it notes, scrap paper, and notepaper. And i not only require them....i like them. I like making all these lists and crossing things off of them. Sometimes it's not healthy and I tense up because more items more often get added to the list than the number of items being accomplished and successfully crossed off. But the rest of times it is really ok. It is part of who I am.
So if you ever need an idea for a present for me....buy me a package of post-its and watch my face light up.....especially if you bought shades that i do not already possess. | | |
| I have found myself resting in a place of contentment frequently over the last months. It has been the best word to describe the overwhelming emotion that periodically surges upward through me. Yesterday I told my roadtrip companions as we were walking to the pier that I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest (You have permission to laugh at my lame description). But we have had such a good trip together and Jesus has really been in it all (and we were in michigan walking to the lake right at that moment). I love that. I hope, though, that I am feeling this so much not simply because life has been so good. Not just because I am existing in a season of abundance right now. I have enough....of everything--from everything to finances, to a knowledge I have been walking in the path set out before me, to opportunities to be with the ones I love. I hope instead that it's because I am learning to be content in every situation; that I am learning to recognize what is truly good and lasting. I guess the true test will come only when the season changes again. Regardless, life has just been really good and I love those moments of contentment and pray that moments stretch into days and into weeks. Which, I have been told will as I learn to linger longer in the presence....
Contented Moments as of recent
Driving to Kansas City in the girl car....catching up and talking about God. hearing about his crazy provision for my roommate.
Being in Kansas City with friends.
Getting to the point of loving Zion licking my face-though only for a second-and him falling asleep on my lap.
Soaking in the prayer room.
Gathering together with a group of over 20 people from oxford all at the conference and praying for Oxford and for each other.
Spending time with my roomate. the one of six years.
Eating really good food in Chicago--Ethiopian. Spanish.
Michigan--being in Michigan. having introverted time on the pier listening to the water and pretending like the sun might actually tan my face. playing 'would you rather' for almost a solid hour. taking walks down and on the beach both during the day and at night. discussing the things of Jesus with my friends. finishing my book....which i will for sure write something about later. a cold house with lots of blankets, a huge comfortable couch and friends to share it with.
But we'll be back soon my friends.....
p.s. there is buried treasure somewhere along the beaches of Lake Michigan for anyone who is interested.
| | |
| It's Saturday morning....the first day that I have had to sleep in after a week of crazy overtime....and i woke up at 5:30. whatever that is.
Two of the roommates, another friend and I went to Heritage last night, a church in Kentucky. i've only been a few times, but it has always been a beautiful place to be refreshed. i still feel that my heart is a little softer and that my spirit is a little more sensitive to the presence of Jesus. i needed that. really i need that a lot more than what i allow on a day to day basis....hearts harden and callous so quickly, and so often without it being noticed.
The pastor talked about new and greater expectations. If we are not continually expanding, refreshing, and reformatting our expectations, then we are not allowing for much of anything new to happen. As we attain a more complete picture of God, we need to allow that to spread through all of our heart, mind....our prayers will change, our goals, our character, our expectations. They need to change to fit our fresh understanding and stretch into the new places we see God. This is something that i have asked the Lord for a lot in regards to clubhouse over the years, but not something i have asked for recently in my life. it was challenging, not in coming up with many places, situations and people where my expectations are past due for change, but as the gentle and solemn awareness of how much work and sacrifice that can potentially require came.
they also has us walk through a "love tunnel"....comparable to the "fire tunnel" i have experienced at that church. somewhat intimidating....ok, it was really intimidating the first time, but i have come to love being prayed for so much that i was more excited than hesitant last night. these "tunnels" are formed by two lines of people who pray for you as you walk in between them. i have learned that i thrive from physical touch. and i believe that prayer is powerful and effective. i felt thoroughly loved, therefore, as i walked between the rows of individuals lovesick for Jesus who placed their hands on me and prayed every good thing placed on their heart. one man even stepped out of the somewhat straight line and just hugged me as he prayed.
Praise God that He is a god of love. that He is love. that He loves us and truly desires us to know that.
My prayer for you today my friends--along with Paul and Dwayne Roberts (currently listening to apostolic prayers)--comes from Ephesians..."For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with might through his Spirit in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."
| | |
|
