It’s 6:15pm and it’s still light outside. I love the way the days get longer. The darkness of winter is passing and my soul is happier each day.
This reminds me of summer nights. I love how it stays light until nearly 10pm. I love when the fireflies come out and dance over the yards and fields. We would play and play and play until the streetlights came on. I’m not sure if we would turn into gremlins or not, but we were never allowed out after the streetlights came on. I can still hear my mom hollering, “Do you see those streetlights? Get your butts in this house right now!”
We always had to be within yelling distance. We never wanted to hear, “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?” A statement like that was always followed by a swat on the behind. Sometimes I would be playing at my friend’s house. Her mom didn’t yell she would either whistle or ring the bell. We could play way down in the woods and still hear the bell. But even if we didn’t she wouldn’t swat us.
This week we were reading in “Purpose Driven Life” and he was talking about meditating on scripture. Warren was saying that one of the benefits of meditating on scripture is that it keeps you within the sound of God’s voice. Here’s the exact quote: “Daily Bible reading will keep you in the range of God’s voice.” (p. 188) Now that’s one voice I never want to be out of range to hear.
Speaking of quotes, (nice segue, huh?) here’s the one on Centering Prayer that I got from Jim, the worship study leader, on Sunday:
“I think it will be easy to bring you to the heart of true prayer…If you carefully keep this formula before you, and learn to recollect it at all times, it will help you to mount to contemplation of high truth. Everyone who seeks for continual recollection of God uses this formula for meditation, intent upon driving every other sort of thought from his heart.
The formula was given us by a few of the oldest fathers…to only a very few who were athirst for the true way. To maintain an unceasing recollection of God, this formula must be ever before you. The formula is this: “O God, come to my assistance; O Lord, make haste to help me.”
Rightly has this verse been selected from the whole bible (Ps 70:1) to serve this purpose. It suits every mood and temper of human nature, every temptation, every circumstance. It contains an invocation of God, a humble confession of faith, a reverent watchfulness, a meditation on human frailty, an act of confidence in God’s response, an assurance of His ever-present support. The man who continually invokes God as his protector is aware that God is ever at hand.”
(Abba Isaac, 4th or 5th c from “Second Conference of Abba Isaac On Prayer” quoted by M. Basil Pennington in “Centering Prayer” pg. 27-28)
I love that explanation. When I feel I’m going under and cry out “Help me, God!” all those things described above play a role in the prayer. It’s all good and good to know that my protector is ever at hand.
And speaking of hands, here’s a couple of my thoughts on Peter walking on the water. Let me start by saying I think that Peter was incredibly arrogant for getting out of the boat. In Matthew’s account (!4:25-33) it’s night and Jesus is walking out to them. They thought it was a ghost. Jesus assures them by identifying himself and telling them to not be afraid. Period. Oddly, in Mark’s gospel (which is Peter’s story) in Mark 6:45-52, the story ends there. Peter doesn’t boast about getting out of the boat. I don’t believe he felt very good about what happened.
Verse 28 seems to me to be the epitome of arrogance. Jesus doesn’t come strolling out on the water and then present the challenge to them to trying do the same. He didn’t say if they didn’t get out of the boat they’d never know the thrill of trusting God. It was Peter’s idea to get out of the boat. Peter wanted to walk on water like Jesus.
Now, why would Jesus invite Peter out of the boat? I can only surmise, but I think it had a whole more to do with teaching Peter about his limitations and his need to depend upon Jesus than upon challenging Peter with achieving the impossible. This was a teachable moment. The wind and waves rose and caught Peter’s attention and down he went. He wasn’t made to walk on water, but he was made to reach out to Jesus.
So there you have it. I think Peter was arrogant. I don’t think he should have asked to walk on the water. But I’m thankful that Jesus used the moment teach Peter. I’m glad the story of Peter’s arrogance, failure and falling are recorded in scripture because they give me hope. You see, I too was arrogant. I tried to take on more than I was made to take on. I failed and I fell. But just when I needed to, I was able to look up, cry out for help, and find Jesus reaching his hand out to me.
I guess that’s why the formula prayer means so much to me. It’s good to know my protector is ever near.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Thoughts on Maturing
I didn’t have to work today. The factory didn’t order boxes in time for us and since there none until tomorrow, I got the day off. Well, it wasn’t quite that easy. As I was leaving the factory, the plant manager told me that he could two of our 6 team members to work in the Pressure Guard area. He suggested me and one of two other guys. Hmmmm. A dilemma. Fortunately, he suggested that I talk it over with Dan and let him know.
Earlier in the day, Ed (the plant manager) had spoken to me about going full time and working between the factory and supervising the T-Net portion. (That was the original offer.) I told him that I was definitely interested. He seemed pleased and said that we would get together with the factory owner and Dan (director of T-Net) next week and hammer out the details. I about flew out of the office. I felt hopeful and happy. It felt good!
When I got back to T-Net at the end of the day, I talked to Dan about the day, the offer, and the dilemma. I suggested that since I was already looking at being hired on that he consider sending both the other guys out to the factory to work. These guys are really hard workers, and both of them need the opportunity to work full-time. Dan thought it was a good idea. He told them that I was willing to step aside for them. They seemed really appreciative. I didn’t do it for that…but it felt good.
So, I got to sleep in this morning until 7am. Now that really felt good!!! And I’m at T-Net working on grants. Can’t you tell I’m working on grants? I have done some reading and pulled up a couple sights to check, but I wanted to come here and write about something that we went over in devotions this morning.
We’re on day 28 in Purpose Driven Life: Growth Takes Time. He opens the chapter by talking about how tomatoes are picked green for shipping and then before they’re put out for sale, they’re given a shot of CO2 that “forces” them to ripen. He invites the reader then to consider the difference between the quality (and deliciousness) of vine ripened tomatoes verses the forced ripened ones we usually find in the market. We were all salivating thinking of the juicy fresh tomatoes of summer.
As I was thinking of the process of maturing, I was quickly reminded of a time when I took my then three year old daughter to the library. She insisted that she wanted to learn to read. I assured her that she would. That was not good enough. She wanted to learn right then! I tried to explain the process, but my words fell on angry and disappointed ears.
Kids want to grow up so fast. That led me to think about the whole “gotta get my license NOW” thinking. It scares me that some states allow children to drive when they are only 14. No 14 year old is mature enough to manage the decisions it takes to control the mass weapon of destruction we call the automobile. I thought it was interesting that I caught a passing blurb while surfing the net where some states are considering raising the age for acquiring one’s driving license.
What is with the obsession with growing up so fast? I can remember wistfully wishing I was older and on my own, old enough to make my own decisions, just older! I remember both of my girls verbalizing similar wishes; usually when they were receiving a consequence for their misbehavior—as if being older would absolve them of the consequences. And, isn’t that immature thinking at its worst?
I wish I would have been raised by people with healthier boundaries. I wish I would have been around more people that understood the importance of rhythm and pace, of the process of ripening. My life was consumed with competition (between my siblings and me, and between my friends and me). Life was about achieving and accumulating: knowledge and possessions. It wasn’t until the last four years that I have begun to value process, journey, balance, and peace.
If there is any gift I can give to my children now, and to my grandchildren (optimistically thinking in the plural!), it would be the lessons I have been learning. I want them to relish the moment, the living in the now so that when they get to where I am there will be fewer “I wish I hads” and “if only.”
Mmmmm. Smells like lunch just arrived I’ll have to finish thinking about this later!
Earlier in the day, Ed (the plant manager) had spoken to me about going full time and working between the factory and supervising the T-Net portion. (That was the original offer.) I told him that I was definitely interested. He seemed pleased and said that we would get together with the factory owner and Dan (director of T-Net) next week and hammer out the details. I about flew out of the office. I felt hopeful and happy. It felt good!
When I got back to T-Net at the end of the day, I talked to Dan about the day, the offer, and the dilemma. I suggested that since I was already looking at being hired on that he consider sending both the other guys out to the factory to work. These guys are really hard workers, and both of them need the opportunity to work full-time. Dan thought it was a good idea. He told them that I was willing to step aside for them. They seemed really appreciative. I didn’t do it for that…but it felt good.
So, I got to sleep in this morning until 7am. Now that really felt good!!! And I’m at T-Net working on grants. Can’t you tell I’m working on grants? I have done some reading and pulled up a couple sights to check, but I wanted to come here and write about something that we went over in devotions this morning.
We’re on day 28 in Purpose Driven Life: Growth Takes Time. He opens the chapter by talking about how tomatoes are picked green for shipping and then before they’re put out for sale, they’re given a shot of CO2 that “forces” them to ripen. He invites the reader then to consider the difference between the quality (and deliciousness) of vine ripened tomatoes verses the forced ripened ones we usually find in the market. We were all salivating thinking of the juicy fresh tomatoes of summer.
As I was thinking of the process of maturing, I was quickly reminded of a time when I took my then three year old daughter to the library. She insisted that she wanted to learn to read. I assured her that she would. That was not good enough. She wanted to learn right then! I tried to explain the process, but my words fell on angry and disappointed ears.
Kids want to grow up so fast. That led me to think about the whole “gotta get my license NOW” thinking. It scares me that some states allow children to drive when they are only 14. No 14 year old is mature enough to manage the decisions it takes to control the mass weapon of destruction we call the automobile. I thought it was interesting that I caught a passing blurb while surfing the net where some states are considering raising the age for acquiring one’s driving license.
What is with the obsession with growing up so fast? I can remember wistfully wishing I was older and on my own, old enough to make my own decisions, just older! I remember both of my girls verbalizing similar wishes; usually when they were receiving a consequence for their misbehavior—as if being older would absolve them of the consequences. And, isn’t that immature thinking at its worst?
I wish I would have been raised by people with healthier boundaries. I wish I would have been around more people that understood the importance of rhythm and pace, of the process of ripening. My life was consumed with competition (between my siblings and me, and between my friends and me). Life was about achieving and accumulating: knowledge and possessions. It wasn’t until the last four years that I have begun to value process, journey, balance, and peace.
If there is any gift I can give to my children now, and to my grandchildren (optimistically thinking in the plural!), it would be the lessons I have been learning. I want them to relish the moment, the living in the now so that when they get to where I am there will be fewer “I wish I hads” and “if only.”
Mmmmm. Smells like lunch just arrived I’ll have to finish thinking about this later!
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Work Ethic
What is your work ethic?
I’m some crazy combination of Puritan work ethic, perfectionism, and workaholic. I find that it is really easy for me to get annoyed or irritated with people when it seems that they are goofing off.
I was thinking about this today. I don’t remember feeling this way when I was on salary. But today while I was working I was very hard I was aware that one of my co-workers wasn’t putting forth the same effort. My hard work was building our quantity of piecework. Our pay is based on piece production. She was/is going to earn based on the total—the total I worked hard to increased while she slogged through the day.
As I contemplated this I was reminded of the story that Jesus told about the landowner who hired workers. (See Matthew 20: 1-16)When I hired on I knew that the wage was $5.50. I knew that if we had high production days there was the possibility of bonuses. But I didn’t sign on for this job because of the money. Well, maybe a little.
I didn’t like feeling the way the scripture described the grumbly workers. Their theme song was “it’s not fair.” I hate that. I don’t want to sound like that.
So I stopped. It’s my choice, how I feel. I decided to choose to be happy that others were hired to work—whether they had the same work ethic as me or not.
I noticed another thing this afternoon. I was off to the side where I could watch the regular factory workers work. At times it almost seemed as if they were moving in slow motion. I felt an irritation rising within me. It was like, wait. I am working my butt off and only making a pittance compared to your wage that is at least twice as much as mine. It seemed that they justified their slower work pace this way: hey, I get $X whether I make 800 parts or 500 parts so why bust my butt? Excuse me?
Excuse me? That’s right. That’s the danger. I am blessed, totally blessed to be able to work. Drat that over-active work ethic. It impinges on my joy way too often. It pushes me to work harder, harder than I worked before, and harder than everyone around me.
To be very honest, going back to work has been a scary proposition for me. Prior to my crash and burn, I had worked myself to death. I was working two full-time jobs, being a mom, a wife, a housekeeper (of sorts), and a friend. I created a situation where I was working myself into a position of indispensability at my one job (the counseling one). My skills as a counselor and pastor/preacher or speaker were respected and requested. I had horrible boundaries. I had quit taking care of myself. I was all out for everybody else. It was the perfect set up for moral failure.
I put myself into counseling. I had a super therapist to start with. I worked hard on my issues. I needed to be sure that I knew how I got to there so that I would never go there again. One of the clear answers was to establish healthy boundaries. Easier said than done, especially for someone who is so prone to over indulging in the area of work.
So now I’m back to work full time. Last week I skipped lunch to be sure that we got a job done. When the day was over and I was able to reflect I saw how incredibly unhealthy that was! No more.
I guess that’s one of the reasons I write about work so much. I want to be sure to examine my motives and my actions. I want to be accountable. It means challenging a lot of the old messages, old habits. But in the end…it will be a good thing. I will still work hard, because that’s who and how I am. But I will do it in healthy, balanced, and responsible ways…by God’s grace and with his help!
I’m some crazy combination of Puritan work ethic, perfectionism, and workaholic. I find that it is really easy for me to get annoyed or irritated with people when it seems that they are goofing off.
I was thinking about this today. I don’t remember feeling this way when I was on salary. But today while I was working I was very hard I was aware that one of my co-workers wasn’t putting forth the same effort. My hard work was building our quantity of piecework. Our pay is based on piece production. She was/is going to earn based on the total—the total I worked hard to increased while she slogged through the day.
As I contemplated this I was reminded of the story that Jesus told about the landowner who hired workers. (See Matthew 20: 1-16)When I hired on I knew that the wage was $5.50. I knew that if we had high production days there was the possibility of bonuses. But I didn’t sign on for this job because of the money. Well, maybe a little.
I didn’t like feeling the way the scripture described the grumbly workers. Their theme song was “it’s not fair.” I hate that. I don’t want to sound like that.
So I stopped. It’s my choice, how I feel. I decided to choose to be happy that others were hired to work—whether they had the same work ethic as me or not.
I noticed another thing this afternoon. I was off to the side where I could watch the regular factory workers work. At times it almost seemed as if they were moving in slow motion. I felt an irritation rising within me. It was like, wait. I am working my butt off and only making a pittance compared to your wage that is at least twice as much as mine. It seemed that they justified their slower work pace this way: hey, I get $X whether I make 800 parts or 500 parts so why bust my butt? Excuse me?
Excuse me? That’s right. That’s the danger. I am blessed, totally blessed to be able to work. Drat that over-active work ethic. It impinges on my joy way too often. It pushes me to work harder, harder than I worked before, and harder than everyone around me.
To be very honest, going back to work has been a scary proposition for me. Prior to my crash and burn, I had worked myself to death. I was working two full-time jobs, being a mom, a wife, a housekeeper (of sorts), and a friend. I created a situation where I was working myself into a position of indispensability at my one job (the counseling one). My skills as a counselor and pastor/preacher or speaker were respected and requested. I had horrible boundaries. I had quit taking care of myself. I was all out for everybody else. It was the perfect set up for moral failure.
I put myself into counseling. I had a super therapist to start with. I worked hard on my issues. I needed to be sure that I knew how I got to there so that I would never go there again. One of the clear answers was to establish healthy boundaries. Easier said than done, especially for someone who is so prone to over indulging in the area of work.
So now I’m back to work full time. Last week I skipped lunch to be sure that we got a job done. When the day was over and I was able to reflect I saw how incredibly unhealthy that was! No more.
I guess that’s one of the reasons I write about work so much. I want to be sure to examine my motives and my actions. I want to be accountable. It means challenging a lot of the old messages, old habits. But in the end…it will be a good thing. I will still work hard, because that’s who and how I am. But I will do it in healthy, balanced, and responsible ways…by God’s grace and with his help!
Desires
Today was rough. My hands hurt and I was really fighting a heavy heart. It's sort of hard to describe. I don't feel sad personally. I'm just sensing a lot of sadness around me. It's sort of like how the scriptures describe how Jesus looked at the crowds and felt compassion for them. He looked around at the crowd and reached out to them because they were weary and weak. Now, I know I'm no Jesus, but sometimes I feel just a piece of his heart...and it's a heavy thing!
I just felt on the edge of tears all day.
I've still been thinking about the whole concept of accepting the good and not the bad. So often we don't get what we want. I've had numerous conversations with people who are confused and on the verge of walking away from following God because they feel that the promises aren't being kept.
One of the biggies for many people is the promise of Psalms that God will give us our heart's desire. There are many disappointed people because they wish for something, sometimes for a very long time and they never see it come to pass. Is God a liar?
I don't think so and here's why. I think we misinterpret the verse. I think my "take" on this verse came out of many disappointments and much confusion. Like a child I would run to tell my heavenly Father my latest heart's desire and then I would wait--expecting and hoping. And nothing. For a long time, I quit hoping.
Then something happened. When I experienced my great breaking, I began to consider a different meaning to this verse. It was as if it was whispered into my aching heart. What if we chose to read the verse that instead of us telling God what we want, what if God told us what our heart's desire is? He will give us our heart's desire.
The most satisfying times in my life I believe have been the result of God forming that desire in me and my falling in love with what God really wants for me. There's no wrestling here, no disappointment, only life, and life more abundant.
That sounds good to me. He knows the plans He has for me...I need to let him dream them in me.
Wait till you hear my take on Peter getting out of the boat...I'm just a little hairy tick.
I just felt on the edge of tears all day.
I've still been thinking about the whole concept of accepting the good and not the bad. So often we don't get what we want. I've had numerous conversations with people who are confused and on the verge of walking away from following God because they feel that the promises aren't being kept.
One of the biggies for many people is the promise of Psalms that God will give us our heart's desire. There are many disappointed people because they wish for something, sometimes for a very long time and they never see it come to pass. Is God a liar?
I don't think so and here's why. I think we misinterpret the verse. I think my "take" on this verse came out of many disappointments and much confusion. Like a child I would run to tell my heavenly Father my latest heart's desire and then I would wait--expecting and hoping. And nothing. For a long time, I quit hoping.
Then something happened. When I experienced my great breaking, I began to consider a different meaning to this verse. It was as if it was whispered into my aching heart. What if we chose to read the verse that instead of us telling God what we want, what if God told us what our heart's desire is? He will give us our heart's desire.
The most satisfying times in my life I believe have been the result of God forming that desire in me and my falling in love with what God really wants for me. There's no wrestling here, no disappointment, only life, and life more abundant.
That sounds good to me. He knows the plans He has for me...I need to let him dream them in me.
Wait till you hear my take on Peter getting out of the boat...I'm just a little hairy tick.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Sunny Sundays
I didn't sleep well. My cough kept waking me up. I was up and down two or three times. I was afraid I was keeping Nelson awake, but he assured me later that he hadn't heard a thing. He's not feeling well again. Looks like a combo sinus and ear infection. He's sleeping now.
This morning before worship time we gathered early for breakfast. It was such a nice time. We all shared about our week and what God had been teaching us. The food was good and the fellowship sweet. We were sharing lots of thoughts and needs. Our conversation finally worked itself around to Jim's scripture presentation. The segue that he used was a piece by Basil Pennington from "Centering Prayer." Unfortuneately I left the paper and my Bible at T-Net. I'll try to remember to post it tomorrow night.
Anyway, I just thought it was very interesting. I hadn't ever heard of Centering Prayer before I started reading blogs here. Really, I think it was as recent as the beginning of Lent. This is something I want to learn more about.
Another special thing this morning was an offer that came my way. There's a gal in worship group that I am just getting to know. I don't know her story yet. She's a very intriguing personality. I learned today that she'll be 40 on her birthday (which coming soon). I wouldn't have guess that she was that old. Nowhere near! I had been told a couple week ago that she played the guitar. Well, today she asked if she could see mine. I opened the case. She treated it so gingerly, with such care and respect. She told me over and over how nice it was. It made me feel good. Then she played. Wow! I love her style. She's so talented! I had been told that she might give me lessons. I asked. She agreed. And she doesn't want to charge me anything! I don't feel right about that...but I can't afford lessons either. We'll have to work something out. Either way: I'm quite excited.
I went to work right from worship. I got there when the factory was finishing their lunch break. As planned (and hoped for) two of our team members started to work at 7am. They did break any records with their work, but they did ok! We finished taping the valve stems at 2:30 and were told to go home because there wasn't anymore work for us. I have no idea what we'll do this week. I'm not big on surprises, but I guess it doesn't matter because at least I know there will be work!
Well, I just took some NyQuill in hopes of sleeping better tonight. Hope you have sweet dreams too!
This morning before worship time we gathered early for breakfast. It was such a nice time. We all shared about our week and what God had been teaching us. The food was good and the fellowship sweet. We were sharing lots of thoughts and needs. Our conversation finally worked itself around to Jim's scripture presentation. The segue that he used was a piece by Basil Pennington from "Centering Prayer." Unfortuneately I left the paper and my Bible at T-Net. I'll try to remember to post it tomorrow night.
Anyway, I just thought it was very interesting. I hadn't ever heard of Centering Prayer before I started reading blogs here. Really, I think it was as recent as the beginning of Lent. This is something I want to learn more about.
Another special thing this morning was an offer that came my way. There's a gal in worship group that I am just getting to know. I don't know her story yet. She's a very intriguing personality. I learned today that she'll be 40 on her birthday (which coming soon). I wouldn't have guess that she was that old. Nowhere near! I had been told a couple week ago that she played the guitar. Well, today she asked if she could see mine. I opened the case. She treated it so gingerly, with such care and respect. She told me over and over how nice it was. It made me feel good. Then she played. Wow! I love her style. She's so talented! I had been told that she might give me lessons. I asked. She agreed. And she doesn't want to charge me anything! I don't feel right about that...but I can't afford lessons either. We'll have to work something out. Either way: I'm quite excited.
I went to work right from worship. I got there when the factory was finishing their lunch break. As planned (and hoped for) two of our team members started to work at 7am. They did break any records with their work, but they did ok! We finished taping the valve stems at 2:30 and were told to go home because there wasn't anymore work for us. I have no idea what we'll do this week. I'm not big on surprises, but I guess it doesn't matter because at least I know there will be work!
Well, I just took some NyQuill in hopes of sleeping better tonight. Hope you have sweet dreams too!
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Overtime Reflections
This morning I had lots of time to think. The guy that was supposed to come in and work with me, who is on our team, called me at about 6:15am to tell me that he just didn't feel up to working. Great.
So I was alone at our station working on the part that the guys were whining about yesterday. It's a stem that is about an inch and a half long with a nut about one-third of the way down. It's not the right size part so we're having to add a layer of teflon tape--three actually. We have to count all our piece work. It's tedious work. All the guys could keep saying is that this is stupid...over and over. One guy kept questioning why we're being punished?
So standing there alone this morning I had plenty of opportunity to reflect, meditate, and pray. It was really nice. One of the thoughts that struck me and stuck with me was a response to the punishment question. I was reminded of Job’s response to his wife after his calamities. She says, “Curse God and die.” And he responds with, “Shall we accept the good from God and not the trouble?”
I was remembering it as: Shall we accept the good and not the bad? Why are we so quick to assume that something’s wrong when something’s wrong? Why do we presume that we’ve been abandoned when things aren’t going the way we want them?
Then my mind rambled over to thinking about Brother Lawrence and I started wishing I could converse with him. Brother Lawrence, did you ever feel that your friends dumped the crumby jobs on you because they knew that you wouldn’t complain? Did you ever wonder how much worse it could be? How much more you could take? I know. Whatever job, wherever you were, you experienced God’s presence. I understood that a little better today, standing by myself, working a tedious job, meditating on the Word.
After considering Brother Lawrence I meditated on a passage we had been discussing this week from Philippians. 2:14: Do all things without grumbling or complaining. We came across this while studying in Purpose Driven Life. (As a side: I was taking a page from that book while mediating. Warren says we all know how to meditate. He likens it to the same mental pattern as worrying. This ruminating follows Philippians 4:8, though.)
I don’t know about you, but when God wants to teach me a lesson, He quite often uses people around me to teach me. Over the years I’ve referred to “not grumbling or complaining” many times—mostly with my own kids! But this week the word was for me. I laughed out loud when it dawned on me working alone today.
Last night, I was talking with Nelson about the weenie-whiners at work yesterday. I remember saying, “They sounded worse than a bunch of old women with their complaining.” Today, as my memory was pricked with my own words, I was thoroughly challenged to really live the verse…live the truth. There’s a reason for this lack of complaining: to bring greater glory to God. People expect the complaint. What happens when instead of complaint they are met with praise?
When I was in jail, I was a trustee and I worked in the kitchen. Our major task was clean up. Setting up was fun. Cleaning up could be a real disgusting pain. The other woman trustee tended to fall into that pattern of complaining. One day, standing before an endless mountain of gross dishes and pans that were screaming defiantly at us, she started to whine, and it hit me: job security! As long as there was a dirty dish, I had a job. As long as I had a job, I could be out of my pod and busy and productive. The time would go faster. So bring on the grease and grime!
At first she looked at me like I had lost it. Then a smile broke out across her face. From then on, the bigger the mountain, the more fun we had. And whenever one of us teetered on the brink of grumbledom the other would just throw out: job security and we would burst into laughter and before we knew it the job was done.
So, Brother Lawrence, I will accept both the good and trouble from the hand of God, without grumbling or complaining, that my life will shine like a star for the one who created me, walks with me, and keeps teaching me!
So I was alone at our station working on the part that the guys were whining about yesterday. It's a stem that is about an inch and a half long with a nut about one-third of the way down. It's not the right size part so we're having to add a layer of teflon tape--three actually. We have to count all our piece work. It's tedious work. All the guys could keep saying is that this is stupid...over and over. One guy kept questioning why we're being punished?
So standing there alone this morning I had plenty of opportunity to reflect, meditate, and pray. It was really nice. One of the thoughts that struck me and stuck with me was a response to the punishment question. I was reminded of Job’s response to his wife after his calamities. She says, “Curse God and die.” And he responds with, “Shall we accept the good from God and not the trouble?”
I was remembering it as: Shall we accept the good and not the bad? Why are we so quick to assume that something’s wrong when something’s wrong? Why do we presume that we’ve been abandoned when things aren’t going the way we want them?
Then my mind rambled over to thinking about Brother Lawrence and I started wishing I could converse with him. Brother Lawrence, did you ever feel that your friends dumped the crumby jobs on you because they knew that you wouldn’t complain? Did you ever wonder how much worse it could be? How much more you could take? I know. Whatever job, wherever you were, you experienced God’s presence. I understood that a little better today, standing by myself, working a tedious job, meditating on the Word.
After considering Brother Lawrence I meditated on a passage we had been discussing this week from Philippians. 2:14: Do all things without grumbling or complaining. We came across this while studying in Purpose Driven Life. (As a side: I was taking a page from that book while mediating. Warren says we all know how to meditate. He likens it to the same mental pattern as worrying. This ruminating follows Philippians 4:8, though.)
I don’t know about you, but when God wants to teach me a lesson, He quite often uses people around me to teach me. Over the years I’ve referred to “not grumbling or complaining” many times—mostly with my own kids! But this week the word was for me. I laughed out loud when it dawned on me working alone today.
Last night, I was talking with Nelson about the weenie-whiners at work yesterday. I remember saying, “They sounded worse than a bunch of old women with their complaining.” Today, as my memory was pricked with my own words, I was thoroughly challenged to really live the verse…live the truth. There’s a reason for this lack of complaining: to bring greater glory to God. People expect the complaint. What happens when instead of complaint they are met with praise?
When I was in jail, I was a trustee and I worked in the kitchen. Our major task was clean up. Setting up was fun. Cleaning up could be a real disgusting pain. The other woman trustee tended to fall into that pattern of complaining. One day, standing before an endless mountain of gross dishes and pans that were screaming defiantly at us, she started to whine, and it hit me: job security! As long as there was a dirty dish, I had a job. As long as I had a job, I could be out of my pod and busy and productive. The time would go faster. So bring on the grease and grime!
At first she looked at me like I had lost it. Then a smile broke out across her face. From then on, the bigger the mountain, the more fun we had. And whenever one of us teetered on the brink of grumbledom the other would just throw out: job security and we would burst into laughter and before we knew it the job was done.
So, Brother Lawrence, I will accept both the good and trouble from the hand of God, without grumbling or complaining, that my life will shine like a star for the one who created me, walks with me, and keeps teaching me!
Quick Note
Only have a few, but wanted to get a couple thoughts down.
Yesterday was a full day. We worked hard and long at the factory all week. They have been good to keep their word about finding work for us to do. It's not always been easy, but we've hung in there. I think each time they give us a new task they're surprised at how we are able to finish it more quickly than they anticipated. I say that because we're always running out of parts!
In the afternoon yesterday, the guy subbing as the plant manager (while the regular guy is on vacation) came and asked if any of us would be interested in working Saturday and Sunday. I wish I hadn't seen dollar signs so quickly, but I did and I agreed to both days. One guy refused since we weren't getting double time. One of the other guys was supposed to work with me today and he just called me to cancel--he's too sore. Like I'm not?
Last night after work, Nel and I both scurried home to get cleaned up. We had been invited out to dinner with his boss and wife (Dave and Linda) and then to a barber shop quartet concert. Dinner was at a fish fry at a K of C. Oh my! The perch was fried perfectly. I wanted more for the taste, but held myself to about four fillets. It was quite enjoyable.
The concert then was amazing. It was at the Akron Civic Center. The archetecture was worth the trip! What an amazing old building that was beautifully restored. The quartets were SO good! One was a senior competition winner and their paradies were so funny. Another was a collegiant winner and their exuberance and harmony wonderful. But the best by far was a family group with a lead that sang like silk. I didn't want to leave!
And finally, very quickly, so I can scoot and because for some reason my hand and arm is numb, Penelpe had a very good week at daycare. On Thursday she toddled into the room and didn't even say good bye to Annie. So while she was pleased, she also was hurt. I think mother and child will be just fine!
Good Saturday to you all!
Yesterday was a full day. We worked hard and long at the factory all week. They have been good to keep their word about finding work for us to do. It's not always been easy, but we've hung in there. I think each time they give us a new task they're surprised at how we are able to finish it more quickly than they anticipated. I say that because we're always running out of parts!
In the afternoon yesterday, the guy subbing as the plant manager (while the regular guy is on vacation) came and asked if any of us would be interested in working Saturday and Sunday. I wish I hadn't seen dollar signs so quickly, but I did and I agreed to both days. One guy refused since we weren't getting double time. One of the other guys was supposed to work with me today and he just called me to cancel--he's too sore. Like I'm not?
Last night after work, Nel and I both scurried home to get cleaned up. We had been invited out to dinner with his boss and wife (Dave and Linda) and then to a barber shop quartet concert. Dinner was at a fish fry at a K of C. Oh my! The perch was fried perfectly. I wanted more for the taste, but held myself to about four fillets. It was quite enjoyable.
The concert then was amazing. It was at the Akron Civic Center. The archetecture was worth the trip! What an amazing old building that was beautifully restored. The quartets were SO good! One was a senior competition winner and their paradies were so funny. Another was a collegiant winner and their exuberance and harmony wonderful. But the best by far was a family group with a lead that sang like silk. I didn't want to leave!
And finally, very quickly, so I can scoot and because for some reason my hand and arm is numb, Penelpe had a very good week at daycare. On Thursday she toddled into the room and didn't even say good bye to Annie. So while she was pleased, she also was hurt. I think mother and child will be just fine!
Good Saturday to you all!
Thursday, February 24, 2005
10 Things for Fun
This may be a challenge...my life isn't all that "different."
1. I was 4th runner up to Miss Teenage Columbus (back in 1974).
2. I'm over-schooled: I have 3 Masters Degrees (New Testament; M.Div.; and MAPC) plus I have taken 2 courses of a Doctor of Minstry; and I have taken 10 quarters of Clinical Pastoral Education.
3. I was cast in the role of God (Zuess in a college production of "JB").
4. I did a marathon of hair washing (60 girls and at least a dozen counselors). We found a couple cases of head lice and had to nip the problem in the bud!
5. I paid a church to be their associate pastor. Really, they paid me $50 a week (about $200 a month) in salary, but I paid them $400 a month to rent their parsonage.
6. I worked 6 summers at Cedar Point. I worked at the Hotel Breakers front desk, working my way up from cashier, to clerk, to Front Desk Manager.
7. I was 7months pregnant when I was ordained as a minister in the Church of the Nazarene. (Does that make my daughter "pre-ordained"?)
8. Thinking I would just take a little bite to taste it, I ended up eating an entire cheesecake (I blame it on being pregnant, alone, and having a gorrible sweet-tooth).
9. I had the blessing of baptising both of my daughters.
10. I failed my orals for my M.Div so badly the first time, that instead of meeting wiht that committee again at a later time, they chose to "pretend" that I had never been there. I met with a completely different committee the second time to a much better result.
How's that?
1. I was 4th runner up to Miss Teenage Columbus (back in 1974).
2. I'm over-schooled: I have 3 Masters Degrees (New Testament; M.Div.; and MAPC) plus I have taken 2 courses of a Doctor of Minstry; and I have taken 10 quarters of Clinical Pastoral Education.
3. I was cast in the role of God (Zuess in a college production of "JB").
4. I did a marathon of hair washing (60 girls and at least a dozen counselors). We found a couple cases of head lice and had to nip the problem in the bud!
5. I paid a church to be their associate pastor. Really, they paid me $50 a week (about $200 a month) in salary, but I paid them $400 a month to rent their parsonage.
6. I worked 6 summers at Cedar Point. I worked at the Hotel Breakers front desk, working my way up from cashier, to clerk, to Front Desk Manager.
7. I was 7months pregnant when I was ordained as a minister in the Church of the Nazarene. (Does that make my daughter "pre-ordained"?)
8. Thinking I would just take a little bite to taste it, I ended up eating an entire cheesecake (I blame it on being pregnant, alone, and having a gorrible sweet-tooth).
9. I had the blessing of baptising both of my daughters.
10. I failed my orals for my M.Div so badly the first time, that instead of meeting wiht that committee again at a later time, they chose to "pretend" that I had never been there. I met with a completely different committee the second time to a much better result.
How's that?
Monday, February 21, 2005
Perfectionism Attack--Thwarted
I had a really hard time at work today. It started before work. I just struggled to wake up. I “woke” up at about 5:15am. After a stop in the bathroom (do not pass go, do not even think about doing anything else!), I clicked on the computer to check mail, play scrabble, read blogs/journals, and read my online devotionals. But when that was done my head felt like someone was sitting on it. I ached all over. So I did something I rarely do: I went back to bed to sleep for about 45min.
Today at work we were taught two new jobs. The one I started on was the initial assemblage of a pressure regulator for semi trucks. It wasn’t hard, just repetitious. After lunch I switched to the other job: disassembling regulators that were put together incorrectly. This one hurt. There was a gauge on it that was really on there tight. It ate up my hands until I was able to find the proper equipment for the task. After last break I switched back and it was a more pleasant and pain free last hour and a half. We worked until 3:30, getting in a full 7 hours today.
So what was the hard time? It wasn’t the work per se. It was my attitude. I found myself getting overly irritated at the laziness of one of the workers. When we were assembling the regulators I was doing three for his one. He was told how to do it, and he chose instead to reinvent the wheel and do it completely differently. I had to keep an eye on him to be sure it was being done correctly. I asked him to move some parts to a certain location and he put them in a completely different spot.
Then, while I was working on disassembling the regulators, I found myself getting irritated while watching the other gal on the job. She was just putzing through. The guy who was working with her had to keep coming over and checking on her work. She’s not normally a slow mover. It was as if she was playing the helpless female to get the guy to rescue her. I found that annoying.
Well, there I stood across the way, watching this and I felt myself doing a slow burn. Ugh. Grrrr. I didn’t like the way I was feeling. I remember thinking about what a hard worker I am. I used to be so consumed by perfectionism. I had to be the best. I worked hard (I still do) to be noticed, recognized. My value was always based on what I did, what I could do.
My thoughts were not only frustrating, but also scary. I’ve worked hard to get away from that mode of operation. As I was thinking I realized that I hadn’t been “practicing the presence.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t need to fret about work production. I didn’t need to “show anybody up.” All that was required of me was that I do what was asked of me and keep connected to my source, my Lord.
I sang a few choruses. I expressed my feelings to the one who already knew what was going on. Immediately, I noticed the tension release from my shoulders and the tightness in my back disappeared. Coincidence? I think not. I was carrying a load I wasn’t meant to carry.
Who would have thought that the creator of the universe cared about semi truck regulators, or about my petty feelings? I’m reminded of a song I heard recently: Who Am I by a group called Casting Crowns:
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You're
Chorus:
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours
Who Am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who Am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me
I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours
(c) 2003 Club Zoo Music / SWEC Music
(Admin. by Club Zoo Music) / BMI.
All rights reserved. Used by permission.
Good stuff to know! And to remember.
Today at work we were taught two new jobs. The one I started on was the initial assemblage of a pressure regulator for semi trucks. It wasn’t hard, just repetitious. After lunch I switched to the other job: disassembling regulators that were put together incorrectly. This one hurt. There was a gauge on it that was really on there tight. It ate up my hands until I was able to find the proper equipment for the task. After last break I switched back and it was a more pleasant and pain free last hour and a half. We worked until 3:30, getting in a full 7 hours today.
So what was the hard time? It wasn’t the work per se. It was my attitude. I found myself getting overly irritated at the laziness of one of the workers. When we were assembling the regulators I was doing three for his one. He was told how to do it, and he chose instead to reinvent the wheel and do it completely differently. I had to keep an eye on him to be sure it was being done correctly. I asked him to move some parts to a certain location and he put them in a completely different spot.
Then, while I was working on disassembling the regulators, I found myself getting irritated while watching the other gal on the job. She was just putzing through. The guy who was working with her had to keep coming over and checking on her work. She’s not normally a slow mover. It was as if she was playing the helpless female to get the guy to rescue her. I found that annoying.
Well, there I stood across the way, watching this and I felt myself doing a slow burn. Ugh. Grrrr. I didn’t like the way I was feeling. I remember thinking about what a hard worker I am. I used to be so consumed by perfectionism. I had to be the best. I worked hard (I still do) to be noticed, recognized. My value was always based on what I did, what I could do.
My thoughts were not only frustrating, but also scary. I’ve worked hard to get away from that mode of operation. As I was thinking I realized that I hadn’t been “practicing the presence.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t need to fret about work production. I didn’t need to “show anybody up.” All that was required of me was that I do what was asked of me and keep connected to my source, my Lord.
I sang a few choruses. I expressed my feelings to the one who already knew what was going on. Immediately, I noticed the tension release from my shoulders and the tightness in my back disappeared. Coincidence? I think not. I was carrying a load I wasn’t meant to carry.
Who would have thought that the creator of the universe cared about semi truck regulators, or about my petty feelings? I’m reminded of a song I heard recently: Who Am I by a group called Casting Crowns:
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You're
Chorus:
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours
Who Am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who Am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me
I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours
(c) 2003 Club Zoo Music / SWEC Music
(Admin. by Club Zoo Music) / BMI.
All rights reserved. Used by permission.
Good stuff to know! And to remember.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
$3 Happiness
There isn't much spiritual here...procede at your own laughter.
I just colored my hair. I finally found the "right" color. I had been going too blonde and I didn't like it. The last two times I settled on a golden blonde. It's very natural looking and it covers the stray grays so nicely.
I didn't start coloring my hair until last year. I was always afraid that the chemicals would damage it. My hair is extremely fine and thin. I used to wear it short and then then for years I permed it. Somehow I hoped that frying my hair would make it look thicker.
When I turned 40 (nearly a decade ago...sheesh), I decided ENOUGH! No more perms! I was amazed at how happy my hair seemed to be with the decision. It was thinner and finer, or so it seemed, but it seemed softer and healthier than I remembered or could have imagined.
So to return to chemicals was a fearful decision for me. What was going to happen? What happened has made me happy. I love the golden color and it seems fuller. Oh, I know it's still my baby fine hair--but we both seem happy.
It used to be that I was jealous of my sister's THICK hair with it's natural wave. Not these days. She can't keep color in hers. And she keeps perming it. I ask why? She can't seem to come up with a sensible answer. Sadly, her hair seems brittle and dead. She's never happy with it. I think I'll keep mine!
Oh, and I haven't had it cut since before Annie's wedding in September. It grows very VERY slowly. Right now it's just brushing my shoulders.
I walked into the computer room after blowing it dry the other day and mentioned to Nelson that I thought my hair was really getting long. He just looked at me with a stupid grin. He remembers the days when it was way down past my shoulders. He liked and likes it long. So for him this is so not long. We both busted into laughter. So I rephrased my revelation: My hair is getting longer (emphasis on the ER).
So, I'm sitting here feeling a little sassy this morning. Longer, fuller, happy hair...happy me. Isn't amazing how much happiness can come from a $3 box of hair coloring?
Forgive the vanity...I just feel sort of pretty.
(Side note: I was unsure about posting about my wonderful sweetie yesterday, given that some of my absolute favs here are struggling with difficult or ending relationships. Please know that I wasn't trying to rub salt...my pain is in other areas of my life and sometimes I go on about what I feel blessed about...it helps me balance things out to count and recount those blessings. And just as a funny about it: when Nelson was laying on his back replacing the drain in the kitchen sink, I told him how I had written about how amazing he was. He sort of shook his said and told me that I need to stop that otherwise people aren't going to believe he really exists. Funny man!)
I just colored my hair. I finally found the "right" color. I had been going too blonde and I didn't like it. The last two times I settled on a golden blonde. It's very natural looking and it covers the stray grays so nicely.
I didn't start coloring my hair until last year. I was always afraid that the chemicals would damage it. My hair is extremely fine and thin. I used to wear it short and then then for years I permed it. Somehow I hoped that frying my hair would make it look thicker.
When I turned 40 (nearly a decade ago...sheesh), I decided ENOUGH! No more perms! I was amazed at how happy my hair seemed to be with the decision. It was thinner and finer, or so it seemed, but it seemed softer and healthier than I remembered or could have imagined.
So to return to chemicals was a fearful decision for me. What was going to happen? What happened has made me happy. I love the golden color and it seems fuller. Oh, I know it's still my baby fine hair--but we both seem happy.
It used to be that I was jealous of my sister's THICK hair with it's natural wave. Not these days. She can't keep color in hers. And she keeps perming it. I ask why? She can't seem to come up with a sensible answer. Sadly, her hair seems brittle and dead. She's never happy with it. I think I'll keep mine!
Oh, and I haven't had it cut since before Annie's wedding in September. It grows very VERY slowly. Right now it's just brushing my shoulders.
I walked into the computer room after blowing it dry the other day and mentioned to Nelson that I thought my hair was really getting long. He just looked at me with a stupid grin. He remembers the days when it was way down past my shoulders. He liked and likes it long. So for him this is so not long. We both busted into laughter. So I rephrased my revelation: My hair is getting longer (emphasis on the ER).
So, I'm sitting here feeling a little sassy this morning. Longer, fuller, happy hair...happy me. Isn't amazing how much happiness can come from a $3 box of hair coloring?
Forgive the vanity...I just feel sort of pretty.
(Side note: I was unsure about posting about my wonderful sweetie yesterday, given that some of my absolute favs here are struggling with difficult or ending relationships. Please know that I wasn't trying to rub salt...my pain is in other areas of my life and sometimes I go on about what I feel blessed about...it helps me balance things out to count and recount those blessings. And just as a funny about it: when Nelson was laying on his back replacing the drain in the kitchen sink, I told him how I had written about how amazing he was. He sort of shook his said and told me that I need to stop that otherwise people aren't going to believe he really exists. Funny man!)
Friday, February 18, 2005
Twenty six years!
There's so much celebrating going on in blogdom. Birthdays are abounding everywhere. I love the festiveness!
I got home about 8pm last night. I was exhausted after being up all night with Penelope. I hated to leave but I wanted to be home. What a delight to walk in the front door and be met with the olfactory blessing of fresh salmon and fried potatoes. In case I haven't mentioned it, Nelson was a chef/cook for many years and absolutely knows his way around the kitchen.
It was our 26th anniversary. We've been together for more than a quarter of a century. We have lived in Ohio, Wisconsin, Missouri, Kansas, and back to Ohio. We have raised two fine daughters. We cared for about 25 foster children, one who still claims us. We have lived in parsonages, rented houses and apartments, and tried to own a home. We survived the failure of a business (a sports card shop in Kansas) and the closing of two restaurants, and the subsequent bankruptcy. We made it through my legal problems, jail time, and the hassels of probation. I can't imagine my life with anyone else. God blessed me with the most amazing of men. He has taught me more about love--real unconditional, lasting, dogged love.
Annie, realizing what an amazing man her father is, named her daughter Penelope. She will not be called Penny....Penelope will only be shortened to Nel. She was named for her grandpa, her pepa.
Well, the amazing man just got home from work. He's going to fix the kitchen sink drain pipe that rusted through and he found this morning while he was doing the dinner dishes from that wonderful supper he made last night. Then he's going to take me out to dinner at Applebees (we got gift cards at Christmas from his mom).
Last night I was so happy to be home. We sat down to watch CSI and I promptly fell asleep. He woke me up as the credits at the end were rolling. We toddled off to bed. I was asleep as my head hit the pillow...but I remember his strong arm laying across my waiste. I felt warm and loved.
And after 26 years...that's a really, really good feeling!
I got home about 8pm last night. I was exhausted after being up all night with Penelope. I hated to leave but I wanted to be home. What a delight to walk in the front door and be met with the olfactory blessing of fresh salmon and fried potatoes. In case I haven't mentioned it, Nelson was a chef/cook for many years and absolutely knows his way around the kitchen.
It was our 26th anniversary. We've been together for more than a quarter of a century. We have lived in Ohio, Wisconsin, Missouri, Kansas, and back to Ohio. We have raised two fine daughters. We cared for about 25 foster children, one who still claims us. We have lived in parsonages, rented houses and apartments, and tried to own a home. We survived the failure of a business (a sports card shop in Kansas) and the closing of two restaurants, and the subsequent bankruptcy. We made it through my legal problems, jail time, and the hassels of probation. I can't imagine my life with anyone else. God blessed me with the most amazing of men. He has taught me more about love--real unconditional, lasting, dogged love.
Annie, realizing what an amazing man her father is, named her daughter Penelope. She will not be called Penny....Penelope will only be shortened to Nel. She was named for her grandpa, her pepa.
Well, the amazing man just got home from work. He's going to fix the kitchen sink drain pipe that rusted through and he found this morning while he was doing the dinner dishes from that wonderful supper he made last night. Then he's going to take me out to dinner at Applebees (we got gift cards at Christmas from his mom).
Last night I was so happy to be home. We sat down to watch CSI and I promptly fell asleep. He woke me up as the credits at the end were rolling. We toddled off to bed. I was asleep as my head hit the pillow...but I remember his strong arm laying across my waiste. I felt warm and loved.
And after 26 years...that's a really, really good feeling!
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Smiles and Travel
Or Travel and Smiles...
On Sunday Annie called. Penelope is much sicker. At that point they were thinking it was upper respiratory viral something and they put her on albueteral and a steroid. She just wasn't getting better. Ann wanted to know if I would come and stay with Pnel for a few days. We talked it through and decided that she would take Monday off and then I would come on Tuesday. That way I could work on Monday at the factory, finish the grant proposal I was writing that had to be turned in on Tuesday, and come over Monday night. I was also hoping that Pnel would be better.
It turned out that Pnel did show some improvement so Monday night it was decided that I would not travel to their house. So Tuesday I went to work. Monday and Tuesday we worked hard. Our efforts have been noticed and appreciated by the factory owners. They need our assistance on another project. So they're going to cross train us. It's a good thing.
As I was wearily walking through the door yesterday afternoon, the phone was ringing. It turned out to be Nelson. He wanted to inform that there was a message from Ann. Pnel is worse. Ann had her back at the doctor and they've placed her on a strong antibiotic and were adament that she shouldn't go to work with Ann at the daycare for the rest of the week. So it was grammy to the rescue. I packed a quick bag, hopped in the car, and headed cross-state.
Pnel sounds awful. She only smiled and laughed a couple times. She's whiny and mopy, but it's because she's feeling so badly. My heart just aches for her. Ann doesn't sound much better. She's got a deep bronchial cough. (A little side note for the ladies...Ann used to make fun of me when I would stop and cross my legs when I would sneeze or cough...in a futile attempt to stop the ineveitable leakage...(insert big smile) I warned her that her time would come. Well, it has. She was all flustrated by the lack of control and of course blamed it all on me! Can you imagine? LOL)
I'm not even sure she should go to work with that cough, but she's already missed two days this week and is only seeing her paycheck shrink.
Now for smiles...I've been intentionally "practicing the presence of God" (think Brother Lawrence here). While I'm working or driving or wherever I carry on that mental conversation with God. The other day (Monday) I was struggling a bit at work because of my own congestion and cough. Each time I would start to feel weak, I would hear the chorus in my head "You are my strength when I am weak, You are my all in all!" And I would smile.
I would start to grumble internally about how SLOW (painfully, horribly slow) this one guy I work with is. And I would hear a small voice reminding me that it didn't matter at least he's willing to work and he's God's child and God loves him--would I do any less. And I would smile and my heart welled with a bit more love and patience.
So part of me wonders what my coworkers think about how I just burst into smile for no obvious reason while I'm working. I wonder if they even notice. Sometimes the smile is so big I just laugh out loud.
Is it crazy? I don't think so. It's just the delight of being in God's presence.
One more question...do you ever listen to the music so loud you can feel it? I can't sing right now and that's hard for me. I love to sing...no, really LOVE to sing. This cold has me croaking out a pathetic bass horribleness. So since I couldn't sing yesterday on my trip over here, I just cranked the CD player to super loud and soaked in the words, the music and meaning. Right now the CD of choice is Michael W's "Worship Again." I just can't get enough.
Well, I need to grab a shower before the world wakes up here. Feel the love!
On Sunday Annie called. Penelope is much sicker. At that point they were thinking it was upper respiratory viral something and they put her on albueteral and a steroid. She just wasn't getting better. Ann wanted to know if I would come and stay with Pnel for a few days. We talked it through and decided that she would take Monday off and then I would come on Tuesday. That way I could work on Monday at the factory, finish the grant proposal I was writing that had to be turned in on Tuesday, and come over Monday night. I was also hoping that Pnel would be better.
It turned out that Pnel did show some improvement so Monday night it was decided that I would not travel to their house. So Tuesday I went to work. Monday and Tuesday we worked hard. Our efforts have been noticed and appreciated by the factory owners. They need our assistance on another project. So they're going to cross train us. It's a good thing.
As I was wearily walking through the door yesterday afternoon, the phone was ringing. It turned out to be Nelson. He wanted to inform that there was a message from Ann. Pnel is worse. Ann had her back at the doctor and they've placed her on a strong antibiotic and were adament that she shouldn't go to work with Ann at the daycare for the rest of the week. So it was grammy to the rescue. I packed a quick bag, hopped in the car, and headed cross-state.
Pnel sounds awful. She only smiled and laughed a couple times. She's whiny and mopy, but it's because she's feeling so badly. My heart just aches for her. Ann doesn't sound much better. She's got a deep bronchial cough. (A little side note for the ladies...Ann used to make fun of me when I would stop and cross my legs when I would sneeze or cough...in a futile attempt to stop the ineveitable leakage...(insert big smile) I warned her that her time would come. Well, it has. She was all flustrated by the lack of control and of course blamed it all on me! Can you imagine? LOL)
I'm not even sure she should go to work with that cough, but she's already missed two days this week and is only seeing her paycheck shrink.
Now for smiles...I've been intentionally "practicing the presence of God" (think Brother Lawrence here). While I'm working or driving or wherever I carry on that mental conversation with God. The other day (Monday) I was struggling a bit at work because of my own congestion and cough. Each time I would start to feel weak, I would hear the chorus in my head "You are my strength when I am weak, You are my all in all!" And I would smile.
I would start to grumble internally about how SLOW (painfully, horribly slow) this one guy I work with is. And I would hear a small voice reminding me that it didn't matter at least he's willing to work and he's God's child and God loves him--would I do any less. And I would smile and my heart welled with a bit more love and patience.
So part of me wonders what my coworkers think about how I just burst into smile for no obvious reason while I'm working. I wonder if they even notice. Sometimes the smile is so big I just laugh out loud.
Is it crazy? I don't think so. It's just the delight of being in God's presence.
One more question...do you ever listen to the music so loud you can feel it? I can't sing right now and that's hard for me. I love to sing...no, really LOVE to sing. This cold has me croaking out a pathetic bass horribleness. So since I couldn't sing yesterday on my trip over here, I just cranked the CD player to super loud and soaked in the words, the music and meaning. Right now the CD of choice is Michael W's "Worship Again." I just can't get enough.
Well, I need to grab a shower before the world wakes up here. Feel the love!
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Apologies
It was an awkward apology. He called me. He was apologizing for offending me last Sunday. I accepted his apology. But I also clarified my feelings. I said I wasn’t offended (probably not true), but I was definitely confused by his behavior and response.
He went on to say that his problem was with the worship study leader, that he had thought that we were going to function as a team, not go off doing our things. “I see. Well, thank you for your apology.”
But there really felt to be a ton of things unsaid. Now normally, I would have rushed into an immediate response of reciprocal apologizing. I didn’t do that and it somewhat surprised me. I sensed in the pregnant pauses the expectation by this man that I should be apologizing, too. I stood my ground. It felt weird to me.
I did a quick inventory. We had read earlier in the week from Psalm 139 and the ending verses’ invitation to inner search for any offensive way. Had I been offensive? No. I did what I had been asked to do. I was confused as to the response.
“Well, I just wanted to apologize.” (Again I felt the invitation to dance the dance of insincerity…and I didn’t go there.) “Well, thank you. Will you and Janet be with us this morning?” I sensed that I had been willing to “make nice” they would come back. “No.” “Well, blessings on you both then.”
In so many respects I feel like I did the right thing. Responded appropriately. I have always (ALWAYS) been quick to apologize in an effort to make peace. A great majority of the time I didn’t feel that I was in the wrong, but someone needed to take that step toward mending things. Apologize and put it behind us.
God, I’m really torn on this one. Should I call him back? Should I accept the responsibility? Should I let this man bully his way back into fellowship? What’s more important: me being humble or me being true? Humility is about waiving my rights. Is this more about surrender or holding someone accountable?
Wait….we taught our kids (and foster kids) that an apology is way more than “Sorry.” (Make sure you get the half sarcastic, flippant tone and attitude.) A real apology involves three things: sincere regret (I’m sorry for what I did.); seeking forgiveness; and commitment to changing behavior (I will try not to repeat the offensive behavior.).
If I believe what I taught, then I didn’t get a real apology. Sure, there was more than the quipped “sorry.” But there was a real lack of sincerity. He did add that he hoped that Nelson and I would be able to forgive him. It was the third part that was lacking. At one point he said that he was aware of his behavior, his tendency to respond in anger and shortness. But there was no expressed intent to change. I don’t know if he doesn’t think he can or if he doesn’t care to. I think he likes the excuse to behave badly.
This man is a recovering alcoholic. He has three years of “sobriety” but really hangs on to addictive behaviors. An apology (sincere in his own way of thinking) will always make things right, but there is never a real expectation of change…after all he is what he is.
Okay, enough of this. I’m going to go prepare for worship. Inside and out.
He went on to say that his problem was with the worship study leader, that he had thought that we were going to function as a team, not go off doing our things. “I see. Well, thank you for your apology.”
But there really felt to be a ton of things unsaid. Now normally, I would have rushed into an immediate response of reciprocal apologizing. I didn’t do that and it somewhat surprised me. I sensed in the pregnant pauses the expectation by this man that I should be apologizing, too. I stood my ground. It felt weird to me.
I did a quick inventory. We had read earlier in the week from Psalm 139 and the ending verses’ invitation to inner search for any offensive way. Had I been offensive? No. I did what I had been asked to do. I was confused as to the response.
“Well, I just wanted to apologize.” (Again I felt the invitation to dance the dance of insincerity…and I didn’t go there.) “Well, thank you. Will you and Janet be with us this morning?” I sensed that I had been willing to “make nice” they would come back. “No.” “Well, blessings on you both then.”
In so many respects I feel like I did the right thing. Responded appropriately. I have always (ALWAYS) been quick to apologize in an effort to make peace. A great majority of the time I didn’t feel that I was in the wrong, but someone needed to take that step toward mending things. Apologize and put it behind us.
God, I’m really torn on this one. Should I call him back? Should I accept the responsibility? Should I let this man bully his way back into fellowship? What’s more important: me being humble or me being true? Humility is about waiving my rights. Is this more about surrender or holding someone accountable?
Wait….we taught our kids (and foster kids) that an apology is way more than “Sorry.” (Make sure you get the half sarcastic, flippant tone and attitude.) A real apology involves three things: sincere regret (I’m sorry for what I did.); seeking forgiveness; and commitment to changing behavior (I will try not to repeat the offensive behavior.).
If I believe what I taught, then I didn’t get a real apology. Sure, there was more than the quipped “sorry.” But there was a real lack of sincerity. He did add that he hoped that Nelson and I would be able to forgive him. It was the third part that was lacking. At one point he said that he was aware of his behavior, his tendency to respond in anger and shortness. But there was no expressed intent to change. I don’t know if he doesn’t think he can or if he doesn’t care to. I think he likes the excuse to behave badly.
This man is a recovering alcoholic. He has three years of “sobriety” but really hangs on to addictive behaviors. An apology (sincere in his own way of thinking) will always make things right, but there is never a real expectation of change…after all he is what he is.
Okay, enough of this. I’m going to go prepare for worship. Inside and out.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Sweet Surprises
Officially (at least in my non-medically professional mom opinion) I have a cold. I'm steadily working my way through two boxes of tissues. I'm sneezing. I've developed a little cough. I feel like someone is sitting on my chest. My nose is very, very sore. Puffs aren't even soft enough right now.
I do want to report that I slept for 10 hours last night. Not bad with a cold! I no longer feel like I'm going to die if I don't lay my head down in the next nanosecond. I have a sense of a little more energy, but can't use much of it because I'm having so much trouble breathing.
So I guess the word for the day is somewhat. Somewhat better.
I worked yesterday. I really worked. The factory has a huge (HUGE) order for a specific part that they have to get out by next Friday. Four of us worked really hard and steady on it yesterday and put out 15 skids: 960 parts. I made 800 of those boxes. Towards the end of the day one of the guys was getting really frustrated and so we swapped positions. This was good. I needed to get out of the physical routine of box making or I wasn't going to be able to move when I got home. The bosses were pleased with the amount of work we did. It's more than has been accomplished in one day by any crew since we started working with this factory.
Been spending extra time on the phone with the married daughter. She started a new job last week. A daycare center in the next town bought a new building and was reopening. Ann is so good with kids. They hired her to be an floating aide. They offered to let her bring Penelope and only charge her $40 a week. It seemed like a really good situation.
Penelope is only 13mo old. She is one of the busiest children I've ever been around. She did not adapt well to being confined to one room. In addition to that she's been fighting colds and an upper respirtory infection. The owners of the daycare told Ann that it might not work out for Penelope and Ann would have to find other care options. (Picture me in the background, jumping up and down and waving my arms. Pick me!) If Penelope can't adapt, then Ann will quit and seek other job options.
I was just talking with Nelson. Having dreamingly and half serious, we talked about moving over that way and me watching Pnel again. I had the awesome blessing of caring for her almost everyday of her first 6mo. That's when I decided I was going to be one really, really connected grammies. Moving would depend on many, many things--the biggest a sense of God's approval on the change. It would involve getting approval from probation first. Then moving again. An expense we can't afford. I just realized this is something to pray more about and start saving for. Okay. Enough of that.
We have friends coming to visit tonight. We all went to college together. The wife of the couple, Rhonda, was my roomie in college and at Cedar Point. She was married to my brother for 7 years. She and I have remained closest of friends. Her husband, Steve, pastors a church plant with the Wesleyan church. They're the couple we spent New Year's Eve with. Rhonda was with me when I bought the jeans at Goodwill that had the twenty dollar bill in the pocket. I realized this morning I never told her the story. It will be fun to share all over again.
Having friends over is a buoy to the spirit and something else very important: incentive to clean. I vacuumed, did dishes, cleaned the microwave, cleaned the bathrooms, and even dusted a little. I had to go in little spurts throughout the day since it's still really hard to breathe. I lit a candle to help the house smell inviting, but alas I can't even detect its wonderful aroma.
Right now, I'm sitting across the dining room table staring at my wonderful husband. I must have told 4 dozen times that I love him today. He's been working on taxes and computers all day. He took some time out to go run to the grocery for me. I like when he shops--that way he can't say there's nothing to eat! And he always brings me a surprise. Today it was peanut M&M's.
So, it's much later now....Rhonda and Steve came to visit. Rhonda made some money on ebay with some sweet scarves she crocheted and sold. With that money she went to Aldi's and bought us a mountain of groceries. I just stood in my kitchen and bawled. What a precious friend. They also brought us a dishwasher. It was an extra one they had. It's the kind you roll over to the sink and hook up to the faucet. I feel so blessed.
We went out for dinner. We laughed and talked and ate. We were silly. It was such a heart lifting time. When we got home, we talked some more and then we played some cards. We taught Steve the game. He caught on quickly, but wasn't good enough to beat Rhonda and I. They just left. It's about an hour drive home for them.
All in all, it was a very rich day. My house is cleaner, my cupboards full, and my heart merry for the friendship and laughter. And church is in the morning...more and more blessings to come!!!
I do want to report that I slept for 10 hours last night. Not bad with a cold! I no longer feel like I'm going to die if I don't lay my head down in the next nanosecond. I have a sense of a little more energy, but can't use much of it because I'm having so much trouble breathing.
So I guess the word for the day is somewhat. Somewhat better.
I worked yesterday. I really worked. The factory has a huge (HUGE) order for a specific part that they have to get out by next Friday. Four of us worked really hard and steady on it yesterday and put out 15 skids: 960 parts. I made 800 of those boxes. Towards the end of the day one of the guys was getting really frustrated and so we swapped positions. This was good. I needed to get out of the physical routine of box making or I wasn't going to be able to move when I got home. The bosses were pleased with the amount of work we did. It's more than has been accomplished in one day by any crew since we started working with this factory.
Been spending extra time on the phone with the married daughter. She started a new job last week. A daycare center in the next town bought a new building and was reopening. Ann is so good with kids. They hired her to be an floating aide. They offered to let her bring Penelope and only charge her $40 a week. It seemed like a really good situation.
Penelope is only 13mo old. She is one of the busiest children I've ever been around. She did not adapt well to being confined to one room. In addition to that she's been fighting colds and an upper respirtory infection. The owners of the daycare told Ann that it might not work out for Penelope and Ann would have to find other care options. (Picture me in the background, jumping up and down and waving my arms. Pick me!) If Penelope can't adapt, then Ann will quit and seek other job options.
I was just talking with Nelson. Having dreamingly and half serious, we talked about moving over that way and me watching Pnel again. I had the awesome blessing of caring for her almost everyday of her first 6mo. That's when I decided I was going to be one really, really connected grammies. Moving would depend on many, many things--the biggest a sense of God's approval on the change. It would involve getting approval from probation first. Then moving again. An expense we can't afford. I just realized this is something to pray more about and start saving for. Okay. Enough of that.
We have friends coming to visit tonight. We all went to college together. The wife of the couple, Rhonda, was my roomie in college and at Cedar Point. She was married to my brother for 7 years. She and I have remained closest of friends. Her husband, Steve, pastors a church plant with the Wesleyan church. They're the couple we spent New Year's Eve with. Rhonda was with me when I bought the jeans at Goodwill that had the twenty dollar bill in the pocket. I realized this morning I never told her the story. It will be fun to share all over again.
Having friends over is a buoy to the spirit and something else very important: incentive to clean. I vacuumed, did dishes, cleaned the microwave, cleaned the bathrooms, and even dusted a little. I had to go in little spurts throughout the day since it's still really hard to breathe. I lit a candle to help the house smell inviting, but alas I can't even detect its wonderful aroma.
Right now, I'm sitting across the dining room table staring at my wonderful husband. I must have told 4 dozen times that I love him today. He's been working on taxes and computers all day. He took some time out to go run to the grocery for me. I like when he shops--that way he can't say there's nothing to eat! And he always brings me a surprise. Today it was peanut M&M's.
So, it's much later now....Rhonda and Steve came to visit. Rhonda made some money on ebay with some sweet scarves she crocheted and sold. With that money she went to Aldi's and bought us a mountain of groceries. I just stood in my kitchen and bawled. What a precious friend. They also brought us a dishwasher. It was an extra one they had. It's the kind you roll over to the sink and hook up to the faucet. I feel so blessed.
We went out for dinner. We laughed and talked and ate. We were silly. It was such a heart lifting time. When we got home, we talked some more and then we played some cards. We taught Steve the game. He caught on quickly, but wasn't good enough to beat Rhonda and I. They just left. It's about an hour drive home for them.
All in all, it was a very rich day. My house is cleaner, my cupboards full, and my heart merry for the friendship and laughter. And church is in the morning...more and more blessings to come!!!
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Crummy
I feel crummy today.
I worked hard yesterday, so hard that I could barely move last night. My limbs felt as though they were weighted with lead. I laid down for a half hour, but couldn't sleep. I had felt like I was feverish early in the day, but pushed myself through it. I wasn't thinking as sharply as I needed to and made a couple calculating errors and gave poor directions. Fortunately, I was able to catch myself and correct things before major uncorrectable errors were committed.
My head feels weighted today and my nose won't stop running. Thankfully, I'm not sore and achy like I was yesterday. But I called off work and cancelled my therapy appointment. I'm not sure if I feel crummier for calling off work when I'm not on my deathbed or because I can't breathe. I haven't been to therapy since December and I didn't really want to drive the two and half hours there, chit chat for an hour (spending $30 unnecessarily), and then drive home two and a half hours. I know it's mandated by the court, but not only does it seem like a waste, I feel crummy, and there's a couple inches of fresh snow out there with more on the way.
Financially we needed me to work. I realize I would have only brought home about $25, but that would buy groceries. I just couldn't make myself do it. And that feels crummy to me.
I need to make myself sit down at the table and crank out a grant. I'm rebelling against that because I knew I'm not going to make any money for my effort. And that really feels crummy. I enjoy the word crafting immensely, but there's no provision to pay me for my time or effort.
And to top it all off, I'm all out of soup!
I realized something today while I was cruising blogs: people write back notes to notes. I decided to read notes on blogs that I've noted. I wanted to see who was reading the blogs that I enjoy and get blessed by. I figured it was another way to find interesting and encouraging blogs (but y'all probably knew that). Anyway, what I found in addition to some good new reads, is that there were notes back to the notes I left. I felt really crummy then. These writers took time to respond back and I probably looked like a stuck up schmuck for not responding back. I'm sorry!!! I wasn't ignoring you. I was just plain ignorant. Now doesn't that feel crummy.
Okay. All this crummy talk has made me hungry (I've been told that breathing makes me hungry...and I can do a little of that right now.). So, I think I'll go get some cinnamon toast and cup of tea. Maybe then I'll feel a little less crummy.
Oh, I have another question. Is there a tutorial somewhere that can teach me how to post pics and post my fav blogs? How do I dress up that marginal column like the rest of you? Just curious.
Postscript (AKA: afterthought...requiring editing...lol)
I wanted to let you know that Jim, the worship leader, called me the other night. He wasn't asking us to dinner as orginially planned. He was wanting to let me know that he had just had a conversation with the music guy who had "shared his heart" on Sunday and caused such a stir. It seems that the guy's chief complaint was with Jim. He felt that Jim had betrayed some trust and he no longer felt that he or his wife would be able to worship with the group. Jim wanted to let me know right away so that Nelson and I wouldn't back out also, especially since the reason for our not returning was no longer going to be a problem--and would I please bring the music for Sunday. It's a weird thing. It both makes me happy (relieved?) and sad at the same time.
I worked hard yesterday, so hard that I could barely move last night. My limbs felt as though they were weighted with lead. I laid down for a half hour, but couldn't sleep. I had felt like I was feverish early in the day, but pushed myself through it. I wasn't thinking as sharply as I needed to and made a couple calculating errors and gave poor directions. Fortunately, I was able to catch myself and correct things before major uncorrectable errors were committed.
My head feels weighted today and my nose won't stop running. Thankfully, I'm not sore and achy like I was yesterday. But I called off work and cancelled my therapy appointment. I'm not sure if I feel crummier for calling off work when I'm not on my deathbed or because I can't breathe. I haven't been to therapy since December and I didn't really want to drive the two and half hours there, chit chat for an hour (spending $30 unnecessarily), and then drive home two and a half hours. I know it's mandated by the court, but not only does it seem like a waste, I feel crummy, and there's a couple inches of fresh snow out there with more on the way.
Financially we needed me to work. I realize I would have only brought home about $25, but that would buy groceries. I just couldn't make myself do it. And that feels crummy to me.
I need to make myself sit down at the table and crank out a grant. I'm rebelling against that because I knew I'm not going to make any money for my effort. And that really feels crummy. I enjoy the word crafting immensely, but there's no provision to pay me for my time or effort.
And to top it all off, I'm all out of soup!
I realized something today while I was cruising blogs: people write back notes to notes. I decided to read notes on blogs that I've noted. I wanted to see who was reading the blogs that I enjoy and get blessed by. I figured it was another way to find interesting and encouraging blogs (but y'all probably knew that). Anyway, what I found in addition to some good new reads, is that there were notes back to the notes I left. I felt really crummy then. These writers took time to respond back and I probably looked like a stuck up schmuck for not responding back. I'm sorry!!! I wasn't ignoring you. I was just plain ignorant. Now doesn't that feel crummy.
Okay. All this crummy talk has made me hungry (I've been told that breathing makes me hungry...and I can do a little of that right now.). So, I think I'll go get some cinnamon toast and cup of tea. Maybe then I'll feel a little less crummy.
Oh, I have another question. Is there a tutorial somewhere that can teach me how to post pics and post my fav blogs? How do I dress up that marginal column like the rest of you? Just curious.
Postscript (AKA: afterthought...requiring editing...lol)
I wanted to let you know that Jim, the worship leader, called me the other night. He wasn't asking us to dinner as orginially planned. He was wanting to let me know that he had just had a conversation with the music guy who had "shared his heart" on Sunday and caused such a stir. It seems that the guy's chief complaint was with Jim. He felt that Jim had betrayed some trust and he no longer felt that he or his wife would be able to worship with the group. Jim wanted to let me know right away so that Nelson and I wouldn't back out also, especially since the reason for our not returning was no longer going to be a problem--and would I please bring the music for Sunday. It's a weird thing. It both makes me happy (relieved?) and sad at the same time.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
More please!
I am turning into a veritable Betty Crocker!!!
Last week I made some yummy chili and cornbread. I made it with out beans. That made Beth and I happy, but Nelson groused a bit about it just not really being chili without the beans.
Then on Friday I made ham and beans. It was ok. The beans weren't quite as smooshy as I like them, but the cornbread was yummers!
Last night I made corn chowder from a recipe card I got from Annie's Pampered Chef party (I'm having a book party if anybody wants something!). It was was sooooooooooooo delicious!!!!
Today I've been crock cooking a zesty chicken veggie soup. I made it without a recipe!!!! I used my blender to blend a couple cans of tomatoes and a can of diced tomatoes and jalepenos (I got the latter at Aldi's). I added a couple cans of mixed veggies (which have plumped up quite nicely in the crock pot. Then I cooked a couple chicken breasts and shredded them. I used the following spices: cummin, lemon pepper, oregano, and sweet basil. I'm sending Beth to the grocery (really she's going for something else and I'm just having her pick something up for me...yea, right, like I could make her do anything...but I digress...)to get some fresh hard rolls from the bakery. Should be absolutely delicioso!!!
I guess if there's any positive to come out of being tight financially it's creative cooking: making a lot (that hopefully tastes good) for as little as possible...and having leftovers to take in lunch the next day!!!
I was just talking to my daughter (in between interruptions from the grandbaby) and telling her about these cooking experiments. Her question was: Who are you and what have you done with my mother? Nice. But true. Cooking is not my gift. No one would clammor for anything I would bake. Don't put a knife in my hand...it only becomes a weapon for me to cut myself or demolish an innocent vegitable. Let's face it: I'm no Martha...and I'm just learning how to really be a Mary...so I've spent a lot of years with a real identity crisis.
There's just something really encouraging about someone actually saying, Ooo, Mom this is really good. And get the smelling salts ready if they ask for seconds!!!
I hope your evening is full of seconds and lots of encouragement!!!!
Last week I made some yummy chili and cornbread. I made it with out beans. That made Beth and I happy, but Nelson groused a bit about it just not really being chili without the beans.
Then on Friday I made ham and beans. It was ok. The beans weren't quite as smooshy as I like them, but the cornbread was yummers!
Last night I made corn chowder from a recipe card I got from Annie's Pampered Chef party (I'm having a book party if anybody wants something!). It was was sooooooooooooo delicious!!!!
Today I've been crock cooking a zesty chicken veggie soup. I made it without a recipe!!!! I used my blender to blend a couple cans of tomatoes and a can of diced tomatoes and jalepenos (I got the latter at Aldi's). I added a couple cans of mixed veggies (which have plumped up quite nicely in the crock pot. Then I cooked a couple chicken breasts and shredded them. I used the following spices: cummin, lemon pepper, oregano, and sweet basil. I'm sending Beth to the grocery (really she's going for something else and I'm just having her pick something up for me...yea, right, like I could make her do anything...but I digress...)to get some fresh hard rolls from the bakery. Should be absolutely delicioso!!!
I guess if there's any positive to come out of being tight financially it's creative cooking: making a lot (that hopefully tastes good) for as little as possible...and having leftovers to take in lunch the next day!!!
I was just talking to my daughter (in between interruptions from the grandbaby) and telling her about these cooking experiments. Her question was: Who are you and what have you done with my mother? Nice. But true. Cooking is not my gift. No one would clammor for anything I would bake. Don't put a knife in my hand...it only becomes a weapon for me to cut myself or demolish an innocent vegitable. Let's face it: I'm no Martha...and I'm just learning how to really be a Mary...so I've spent a lot of years with a real identity crisis.
There's just something really encouraging about someone actually saying, Ooo, Mom this is really good. And get the smelling salts ready if they ask for seconds!!!
I hope your evening is full of seconds and lots of encouragement!!!!
Further Exploring the Sadness
The interesting thing that has come out of Sunday morning’s service is a quiet sense of peace. I was sad, but not devastated. I wasn’t angry or feeling especially violated. I was just sad that it truly doesn’t appear that this opportunity is going to pan out and perhaps a smidgen confused, and wondering: what’s next God?
Much later that evening, I recalled the piece of this man’s "sharing" that struck me the hardest. He was talking about "playing games." It really felt accusatory. I thought, "He’s really quite clueless. I’ve never been more real." Circumstances have both forced and allowed me to really put down my mask and just be me. It was easy to "let go" of that attempt at putting me down. It just left me feeling sad that he felt so pressured to try and put me down. Guess he was feeling pretty badly about himself.
Some of us gathered Sunday night to watch the Super Bowl together. We snacked and picked teams to root for, and snacked and rooted some more. It was loud and fun.
The worship study leader, Jim, was with us. I struggled with wanting to say something about our feelings from the morning experience and thinking that maybe it wasn’t the right place or time. Then at half-time he broached the subject with us. Trouble was Nelson really wanted to watch the Paul McCartney show...so I ended up pretty much talking to Jim about it myself.
He started by asking, "I was wondering what you guys thought about the service this morning?" My reply was a question. Nelson hates it when I answer a question with a question. I have a bad habit of over-clarifying. Anyway, I asked, "Do you really want to know?" There are people in the world who ask questions not really expecting an honest answer: "How are you today?" And then they scurry on, without ever really expecting an answer. I was pretty sure Jim asked because he wanted to know. I’m not sure he anticipated the level of honesty he got, but get it he did!
When all was said and done, I was listening to Nelson sing "Hey Jude" and making some comment about fireworks–I love both. Sigh. Jim was stating that he and his wife, Cheryl would like to get with us this week, go out for dinner, and talk about things. I’m not sure what good it will do, but I’m not one to close a door prematurely, so we’ll go...if they call. (One thing Jim shared is that he had talked the whole thing over with Cheryl. She hadn’t been at the gathering as she stayed home with their younger daughter who was ill. She was VERY angry at what Jim told her had transpired. Sometimes anger is a comforting thing.)
So right now there is no resolve. And oddly enough for this control nut–that’s okay. I’m not stressing. I’m not discouraged. I’m also not worried. I’ve opted to take Michelle’s advice and just nestle in Abba’s love this week.
And it’s a very good place to be!
Much later that evening, I recalled the piece of this man’s "sharing" that struck me the hardest. He was talking about "playing games." It really felt accusatory. I thought, "He’s really quite clueless. I’ve never been more real." Circumstances have both forced and allowed me to really put down my mask and just be me. It was easy to "let go" of that attempt at putting me down. It just left me feeling sad that he felt so pressured to try and put me down. Guess he was feeling pretty badly about himself.
Some of us gathered Sunday night to watch the Super Bowl together. We snacked and picked teams to root for, and snacked and rooted some more. It was loud and fun.
The worship study leader, Jim, was with us. I struggled with wanting to say something about our feelings from the morning experience and thinking that maybe it wasn’t the right place or time. Then at half-time he broached the subject with us. Trouble was Nelson really wanted to watch the Paul McCartney show...so I ended up pretty much talking to Jim about it myself.
He started by asking, "I was wondering what you guys thought about the service this morning?" My reply was a question. Nelson hates it when I answer a question with a question. I have a bad habit of over-clarifying. Anyway, I asked, "Do you really want to know?" There are people in the world who ask questions not really expecting an honest answer: "How are you today?" And then they scurry on, without ever really expecting an answer. I was pretty sure Jim asked because he wanted to know. I’m not sure he anticipated the level of honesty he got, but get it he did!
When all was said and done, I was listening to Nelson sing "Hey Jude" and making some comment about fireworks–I love both. Sigh. Jim was stating that he and his wife, Cheryl would like to get with us this week, go out for dinner, and talk about things. I’m not sure what good it will do, but I’m not one to close a door prematurely, so we’ll go...if they call. (One thing Jim shared is that he had talked the whole thing over with Cheryl. She hadn’t been at the gathering as she stayed home with their younger daughter who was ill. She was VERY angry at what Jim told her had transpired. Sometimes anger is a comforting thing.)
So right now there is no resolve. And oddly enough for this control nut–that’s okay. I’m not stressing. I’m not discouraged. I’m also not worried. I’ve opted to take Michelle’s advice and just nestle in Abba’s love this week.
And it’s a very good place to be!
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Disappointment
Last Sunday I took my guitar to worship gathering. The "usual" song leading person wasn't there, so I pulled some choruses together in an instant and provided a music segment for our time together. When the gathering was over, the worship study leader asked me to come prepared with music next week. We spent a few moments talking about his topic and direction so I could pick out "appropriate" music. I was pretty excited about the assignment. I went home and quickly pulled together a music package that seemed to fit. I shared it with Nelson and he gave me some real encouragement.
Nelson and I walked into the building today and I instantly heard the "usual" persons guitar and his wife singing. I left my guitar in the hall when I entered the room.
I don't even know where to start to sort through these feelings. How about a couple Wednesday nights ago? This couple ("usual" song leader and his wife) were leading the Wednesday prayer time. He informed the group that we spent too much time talking and we were going to go directly to prayer. It didn't feel right to me. I look forward to the opportunity of sharing concerns and needs and catching up with people mid-week. But I wasn't in charge so I held my tongue. This "leader" proceded to use his prayer time to malign the T-Net director, the T-Net program, the "guys in the program (and technically, I'm one of the "guys"), anything spirit filled (aka charismatic) and a bunch of other stuff. I wanted to run out of the room, but I convinced myself to stick it out. I convinced myself I was over-reacting.
The following Sunday was when he didn't show up and I was asked to prepare for today. So I prepared. And did I mention that I was excited to have the opportunity?
The music the guy picked were three choruses I had never heard. I don't sing choruses I don't know. I listen to learn them. So while they sang I listened. I also wondered what was going on and I prayed that God would keep my spirit sweet. They took my not singing to be my taking an attitude. The music guy invited me to play my guitar, but I tried to back out. Everyone insisted. So went and got my guitar and music and shared the music package I had prepared. The theme was the holiness of God and how when Jesus taught the people were astonished and amazed. I picked choruses that focused our thoughts that way: Come into the Holy of Holies; Majesty; Heart of Worship; We are Standing On Holy Ground (both versions) and We Exalt Thee.
The couple refused to sing. The music guy didn't even open the book to the choruses. Music that was supposed to be uplifting and draw us to the throne fell flat and futile. Nelson was concerned. The worship study leader could barely look up.
Then, the leader presented his study. He's such a student of the Word. I respect him for his learning, but also for his spiritual maturity. At one point he shared that forty times in the scripture the response of the crowds to Jesus' teaching was astonishment and amazement. Nelson made a comment about how this impacted him. (We're a small group, so interaction is the norm.) The music guy made a comment that was judgmental about what Nelson said. It wasn't kind, but very dismissing. I tried to tie their two comments together and the music guy about exploded. He decided to "share his heart" and he was sorry if this was going to step on anyone's toes. And he let lose with a judgment laden pronouncement that was harsh and squelched the spirit totally.
We're not going back. The group wants to hand hold and coddle this couple because the give money. They've been fellowshipping with this group since it began. They've got history. They can have it. I don't want to be someplace where someone can poison prayer with personal opinion and get away with it because they're praying and who else can judge their prayers? I don't want to be a part of a fellowship that condones someone "sharing their heart" which is just a disguise for spewing a spirit-squelching stench.
Now, the really sad part is that this is my only "church" option at this time. Not going here means that until I'm off probation I won't be going anywhere (as long as I am in this county and the surrounding counties of this probational region). I, we, will miss the new friends we were starting to develop. I will miss leading music. I will miss gathering for fellowship.
I'm sad today.
Nelson and I walked into the building today and I instantly heard the "usual" persons guitar and his wife singing. I left my guitar in the hall when I entered the room.
I don't even know where to start to sort through these feelings. How about a couple Wednesday nights ago? This couple ("usual" song leader and his wife) were leading the Wednesday prayer time. He informed the group that we spent too much time talking and we were going to go directly to prayer. It didn't feel right to me. I look forward to the opportunity of sharing concerns and needs and catching up with people mid-week. But I wasn't in charge so I held my tongue. This "leader" proceded to use his prayer time to malign the T-Net director, the T-Net program, the "guys in the program (and technically, I'm one of the "guys"), anything spirit filled (aka charismatic) and a bunch of other stuff. I wanted to run out of the room, but I convinced myself to stick it out. I convinced myself I was over-reacting.
The following Sunday was when he didn't show up and I was asked to prepare for today. So I prepared. And did I mention that I was excited to have the opportunity?
The music the guy picked were three choruses I had never heard. I don't sing choruses I don't know. I listen to learn them. So while they sang I listened. I also wondered what was going on and I prayed that God would keep my spirit sweet. They took my not singing to be my taking an attitude. The music guy invited me to play my guitar, but I tried to back out. Everyone insisted. So went and got my guitar and music and shared the music package I had prepared. The theme was the holiness of God and how when Jesus taught the people were astonished and amazed. I picked choruses that focused our thoughts that way: Come into the Holy of Holies; Majesty; Heart of Worship; We are Standing On Holy Ground (both versions) and We Exalt Thee.
The couple refused to sing. The music guy didn't even open the book to the choruses. Music that was supposed to be uplifting and draw us to the throne fell flat and futile. Nelson was concerned. The worship study leader could barely look up.
Then, the leader presented his study. He's such a student of the Word. I respect him for his learning, but also for his spiritual maturity. At one point he shared that forty times in the scripture the response of the crowds to Jesus' teaching was astonishment and amazement. Nelson made a comment about how this impacted him. (We're a small group, so interaction is the norm.) The music guy made a comment that was judgmental about what Nelson said. It wasn't kind, but very dismissing. I tried to tie their two comments together and the music guy about exploded. He decided to "share his heart" and he was sorry if this was going to step on anyone's toes. And he let lose with a judgment laden pronouncement that was harsh and squelched the spirit totally.
We're not going back. The group wants to hand hold and coddle this couple because the give money. They've been fellowshipping with this group since it began. They've got history. They can have it. I don't want to be someplace where someone can poison prayer with personal opinion and get away with it because they're praying and who else can judge their prayers? I don't want to be a part of a fellowship that condones someone "sharing their heart" which is just a disguise for spewing a spirit-squelching stench.
Now, the really sad part is that this is my only "church" option at this time. Not going here means that until I'm off probation I won't be going anywhere (as long as I am in this county and the surrounding counties of this probational region). I, we, will miss the new friends we were starting to develop. I will miss leading music. I will miss gathering for fellowship.
I'm sad today.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Placing Periods
I mentioned the other day that we are studying Purpose Driven Life in our devotional time at T-Net.
I mentioned that I was blessed by his reference to Hezekiah and the way God left him…wait let me quote it to get it right:
God withdrew from Hezekiah in order to test him and to see what was really in his heart.
2 Chronicles 32:31
Hezekiah had enjoyed a close fellowship with God, but at a crucial point in his life God left him alone to test his character to reveal a weakness, and to prepare him for more responsibility.
Here’s my question: where do you put the periods? Sound weird? Perhaps a little, but think about it. How often when you read scripture do you put the period where it was never intended and then wonder why things aren’t turning out “right?”
In the example of Hezekiah, using Warren’s explanation, I put the period after the test of his character. Applying it to my own life: I put the period in after the failed test. The test presented itself and in failing the test, I became a failure; and thereby unusable to God. In misplacing the period, I failed to see that God was wanting (and needing) to uncover that weakness so that I could be prepared for more responsibility. In essence in reading the verse, and God’s intention, incorrectly I quit to soon. I put the period in the wrong place.
People do that with verses like:
-Ephesians 3:20: They want to see God do the exceedingly abundantly above all they could ask or imagine…without realizing that it’s all according to His spirit that is at work in us.
-Romans 8:28: Sure all things work together for the good, but don’t put the period there. Everything works out for those who love God and are called according to his purpose. Somehow they interpret this to mean that everything’s going to work out for good—or have a good outcome. Truth is this is for the believer, and God will cause all things to work together…that may not be experienced as “good” in the moment or ever for that matter, but when examined in the grand or God scheme of things is what He wants.
-1 Corinthians 10:13: Not let’s see if I can do this one without totally going off (lol). Way too many people quit early in this verse. “And God is faithful (best words in scripture), He will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you can bear, but with each temptation He will provide a means of escape.” Our tendency is to put the period after “bear.” And then we complain when things get tough. “It’s too much.” “What is God thinking, I can’t handle all this.” God is faithful that with each temptation will comes the means of getting through. We have to trust that and operate in that trust to seek His means. Not always easy. But ALWAYS there.
So, be careful how your life puts punctuation into the Word that defeats God’s intended best for you.
I mentioned that I was blessed by his reference to Hezekiah and the way God left him…wait let me quote it to get it right:
God withdrew from Hezekiah in order to test him and to see what was really in his heart.
2 Chronicles 32:31
Hezekiah had enjoyed a close fellowship with God, but at a crucial point in his life God left him alone to test his character to reveal a weakness, and to prepare him for more responsibility.
Here’s my question: where do you put the periods? Sound weird? Perhaps a little, but think about it. How often when you read scripture do you put the period where it was never intended and then wonder why things aren’t turning out “right?”
In the example of Hezekiah, using Warren’s explanation, I put the period after the test of his character. Applying it to my own life: I put the period in after the failed test. The test presented itself and in failing the test, I became a failure; and thereby unusable to God. In misplacing the period, I failed to see that God was wanting (and needing) to uncover that weakness so that I could be prepared for more responsibility. In essence in reading the verse, and God’s intention, incorrectly I quit to soon. I put the period in the wrong place.
People do that with verses like:
-Ephesians 3:20: They want to see God do the exceedingly abundantly above all they could ask or imagine…without realizing that it’s all according to His spirit that is at work in us.
-Romans 8:28: Sure all things work together for the good, but don’t put the period there. Everything works out for those who love God and are called according to his purpose. Somehow they interpret this to mean that everything’s going to work out for good—or have a good outcome. Truth is this is for the believer, and God will cause all things to work together…that may not be experienced as “good” in the moment or ever for that matter, but when examined in the grand or God scheme of things is what He wants.
-1 Corinthians 10:13: Not let’s see if I can do this one without totally going off (lol). Way too many people quit early in this verse. “And God is faithful (best words in scripture), He will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you can bear, but with each temptation He will provide a means of escape.” Our tendency is to put the period after “bear.” And then we complain when things get tough. “It’s too much.” “What is God thinking, I can’t handle all this.” God is faithful that with each temptation will comes the means of getting through. We have to trust that and operate in that trust to seek His means. Not always easy. But ALWAYS there.
So, be careful how your life puts punctuation into the Word that defeats God’s intended best for you.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Celebrating Words
I had such a wonderfully fantasmagorical day.
I worked with my brain and my words instead of making boxes and moving brake drums.
I am stoked. I’m energized. I don’t want to quit. I need to get some of this energy out before Nelson gets home from work, or I’ll just blow him away!
I worked on grants today for the Transformation Network and its Family Life Skills Learning Center. Oh my giosh. I started the day with some research. Then I wrote an initial inquiry letter for both components of the agency. The programs are different and so are the needs. Then I wrote a very short grant for FLSLC for $500 from RadioShack Corp. I did some prep work for a local foundation for the T-Net. I sat and went over figures and descriptions with the director.
I was amazed at how the words just kept coming. No blocks. No frustration. I am a word crafter. I love to put together letters, newletters, articles and the like. It felt so good to use my brain and use my word power.
Tomorrow we don’t have factory work because they failed to order parts for us so tomorrow I’ll be working on grants again. I’m also going to be doing some PR and begging for donations from local businesses. Sunday the Sports Café is celebrating its grand opening with a Super Bowl party. (The Sports Café is one of the community ministries of T-Net. The goal is to provide an safe alternative to the "bar scene" for people who are dealing with chemical and alcohol issues.) My goal is to get one of the local pizza places to donate pizza for the party. I’m pretty excited about the challenge.
Well, there’s research and writing to be done. Catch you later...unless I run out of words for the day....nah, doubt that will happen!
I worked with my brain and my words instead of making boxes and moving brake drums.
I am stoked. I’m energized. I don’t want to quit. I need to get some of this energy out before Nelson gets home from work, or I’ll just blow him away!
I worked on grants today for the Transformation Network and its Family Life Skills Learning Center. Oh my giosh. I started the day with some research. Then I wrote an initial inquiry letter for both components of the agency. The programs are different and so are the needs. Then I wrote a very short grant for FLSLC for $500 from RadioShack Corp. I did some prep work for a local foundation for the T-Net. I sat and went over figures and descriptions with the director.
I was amazed at how the words just kept coming. No blocks. No frustration. I am a word crafter. I love to put together letters, newletters, articles and the like. It felt so good to use my brain and use my word power.
Tomorrow we don’t have factory work because they failed to order parts for us so tomorrow I’ll be working on grants again. I’m also going to be doing some PR and begging for donations from local businesses. Sunday the Sports Café is celebrating its grand opening with a Super Bowl party. (The Sports Café is one of the community ministries of T-Net. The goal is to provide an safe alternative to the "bar scene" for people who are dealing with chemical and alcohol issues.) My goal is to get one of the local pizza places to donate pizza for the party. I’m pretty excited about the challenge.
Well, there’s research and writing to be done. Catch you later...unless I run out of words for the day....nah, doubt that will happen!
Monday, January 31, 2005
Morning Revelations
In our morning devotion group that we have at T-Net before work, we’ve begun studying Rick Warren’s "Purpose Driven Life." A church that I attended for many years covered that material in worship and small group. At that time I was very unimpressed. I know lots of people with strong opinions pro and con. I guess I decided at that time that if effectively reached people then great. I was in the process of leaving that church and denomination so it didn’t seem to bother me.
Then it was announced that we would begin studying the book in devotions. I decided that there must be something there that God wanted me to learn since there was no way I was "getting out of it" this time. (Insert chuckle here. You know the kind when you realize you’re caught and resistence is futile.)
So for the first few days I sort of listened with that ear to try and hear what it was that God wanted me to hear. What lesson was I to learn? Nothing. I mean, nothing seemed to jump out at me. Now, my tendency is to rush ahead. Maybe I should read ahead to see what the lesson is. I felt an immediate check on that. It was as clear as your mother’s arm flying across you to keep you from flying towards the front windshield–you know the one: the human seat belt. Okay. No reading ahead. Trust. Trust God. Trust the process.
A huge lesson unfolded this morning. I got to T-Net early, in case there was work at the factory. There wasn’t, so I worked on grant research until devotions at 9:00. It was a productive time, but not near as productive and beneficial as when God pulled back the curtain during devotions.
I’m not sure why, but there are times when I truly marvel at the timing of God. I was so not ready to hear what I heard today a couple years ago. The truth that blitzed my brain this morning would have blown right past me before. In the journey of time and experience, of mask peeling and humbling, I was made ready.
There on page 43 Warren quotes 2 Chronicles 32:31: Hezikiah had enjoyed a close fellowship with God, but at a crucial point in his life God left him alone to test his character, to reveal a weakness, and to prepare him for more responsibility.
In July 2001, I remember so clearly thinking, "God? God! God, where are you? God stop me. God help me". But I didn’t sense God present. And then I knew God was absent. And in that moment like no other moment in my life I knew the absolute weight and horribleness of sin.
Unfortunately, my sin was also crime. After many agonizing days that turned into months I finally turned myself into the authorities. People marveled then and still tell me that they wouldn’t have had the courage to turn themselves in. I couldn’t not. I suppose I could have lied and denied. I knew how. But I really, really couldn’t do that. I did wrong. I wasn’t going to lie about it any longer. Consequently, I ended up serving time in jail and am now on probation.
I had been a pastor in two denominations for twenty years, a hospital and institutional chaplain for six years. I had been a mental health counselor for seven years. I was on my way up. I was respected. I was effective. I was also caught in a tireless and destructive web of perfectionism and compartmentalization. I was superwoman! I was spinning out of control. I was lost and afraid. And God gave me a test. And all I could see was that I failed it. There was and is no shame to describe the total awfulness of that failure.
In my life I knew what it felt like to sense that God had given a test, a test to prove integrity and character, and to fail that test. To feel the total horror of breaking the heart of God by going back on everything that I knew and held dear. What I never had heard until this morning was that there might have possibly been more to that test: that God wanted to reveal a weakness in me and prepare me for more responsibility.
Could it possibly be? In the eyes of the church and the counseling community I am uncredentiable (how’s that for a made up word?). I can’t be trusted again. But in God’s economy I’m just getting started because without the test, and even the failure, the weakness wouldn’t have been revealed and I wouldn’t ever have been prepared for the greater responsibility God had in store for me.
I can barely see the computer monitor through the tears right now. Some of my dearest friends and mentors who have journeyed close by my side these past couple years have repeatedly encouraged me by saying that they didn’t believe that God was finished with me. It was hard to hold onto to that in the face of all the closed doors. But today, I actually felt hopeful.
And hope is a powerful thing. Sometimes overwhelming, especially when it’s been hardly or slowly known and trusted. I just need to sit here near it and get used to the idea that more is on the way!
Then it was announced that we would begin studying the book in devotions. I decided that there must be something there that God wanted me to learn since there was no way I was "getting out of it" this time. (Insert chuckle here. You know the kind when you realize you’re caught and resistence is futile.)
So for the first few days I sort of listened with that ear to try and hear what it was that God wanted me to hear. What lesson was I to learn? Nothing. I mean, nothing seemed to jump out at me. Now, my tendency is to rush ahead. Maybe I should read ahead to see what the lesson is. I felt an immediate check on that. It was as clear as your mother’s arm flying across you to keep you from flying towards the front windshield–you know the one: the human seat belt. Okay. No reading ahead. Trust. Trust God. Trust the process.
A huge lesson unfolded this morning. I got to T-Net early, in case there was work at the factory. There wasn’t, so I worked on grant research until devotions at 9:00. It was a productive time, but not near as productive and beneficial as when God pulled back the curtain during devotions.
I’m not sure why, but there are times when I truly marvel at the timing of God. I was so not ready to hear what I heard today a couple years ago. The truth that blitzed my brain this morning would have blown right past me before. In the journey of time and experience, of mask peeling and humbling, I was made ready.
There on page 43 Warren quotes 2 Chronicles 32:31: Hezikiah had enjoyed a close fellowship with God, but at a crucial point in his life God left him alone to test his character, to reveal a weakness, and to prepare him for more responsibility.
In July 2001, I remember so clearly thinking, "God? God! God, where are you? God stop me. God help me". But I didn’t sense God present. And then I knew God was absent. And in that moment like no other moment in my life I knew the absolute weight and horribleness of sin.
Unfortunately, my sin was also crime. After many agonizing days that turned into months I finally turned myself into the authorities. People marveled then and still tell me that they wouldn’t have had the courage to turn themselves in. I couldn’t not. I suppose I could have lied and denied. I knew how. But I really, really couldn’t do that. I did wrong. I wasn’t going to lie about it any longer. Consequently, I ended up serving time in jail and am now on probation.
I had been a pastor in two denominations for twenty years, a hospital and institutional chaplain for six years. I had been a mental health counselor for seven years. I was on my way up. I was respected. I was effective. I was also caught in a tireless and destructive web of perfectionism and compartmentalization. I was superwoman! I was spinning out of control. I was lost and afraid. And God gave me a test. And all I could see was that I failed it. There was and is no shame to describe the total awfulness of that failure.
In my life I knew what it felt like to sense that God had given a test, a test to prove integrity and character, and to fail that test. To feel the total horror of breaking the heart of God by going back on everything that I knew and held dear. What I never had heard until this morning was that there might have possibly been more to that test: that God wanted to reveal a weakness in me and prepare me for more responsibility.
Could it possibly be? In the eyes of the church and the counseling community I am uncredentiable (how’s that for a made up word?). I can’t be trusted again. But in God’s economy I’m just getting started because without the test, and even the failure, the weakness wouldn’t have been revealed and I wouldn’t ever have been prepared for the greater responsibility God had in store for me.
I can barely see the computer monitor through the tears right now. Some of my dearest friends and mentors who have journeyed close by my side these past couple years have repeatedly encouraged me by saying that they didn’t believe that God was finished with me. It was hard to hold onto to that in the face of all the closed doors. But today, I actually felt hopeful.
And hope is a powerful thing. Sometimes overwhelming, especially when it’s been hardly or slowly known and trusted. I just need to sit here near it and get used to the idea that more is on the way!
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Waking Up Early
Are you ever awakened early? I don’t mean, do you wake up a couple minutes before the alarm. And I don’t mean are you having trouble sleeping, like from insomnia or bad dreams (my heart goes out to you if you struggle with those!). I’m thinking about those wee hour happenings, when there’s no doubt that God has roused you from your slumber, when you are wide eyed awake, knowing that there is no other recourse but to get up and get to the business of God.
It’s Sunday morning. I don’t have to be up until 7:30. That’s when Beth wanted me to start playing human alarm clock for her. At that, 7:30 is still sleeping way late for me. I set my alarm as I laid my head to rest last night and smiled at the seeming decadence of the sweet extra sleep.
My eyes opened at 5:33am. I thought perhaps it was a check and roll moment. Nope. I was wide awake. I checked in with God. Are you sure you want me up this early? It’s always good to check the source of wakening. Maybe I just needed to make a quick potty run. Nope. Sigh. Off went the alarm and I scooted out of bed.
I made my potty run–can’t get up without that these days. And then I headed to the computer. I checked my email where I get prayer requests. Nothing there. I went to my two journal sites to check on my favs to see if someone was requesting prayer or sharing a burden that I could take to prayer. Not it. I sat quietly for a moment. Could it be Lord, that this time was just for me? I must confess, that’s not ever happened before. What would I do with this?
In my fav/bookmarked list, I have a folder with different devotional/meditation sites. I decided to work my way through them. It didn’t take long, before I realized that I was right where God wanted me to be: praying, centering, meditating on God and upon the Word. Weeping, confessing, and reaching out to the One who was reaching out to me.
There’s a site that I really, really like to go to for focused meditation. It’s so saturated with the Word and always seems to hit home for me. http://reflections.gospelcom.net/ is the addy. Ken Boa’s style and writing just seems to hit me right where and when I need it. I was amazed at how today’s daily affirmation seemed to sum up all the devotional thoughts and scriptures of the week for me. But not only that, it also pulled out my fears and troublings and helped me to direct them Godward.
It is a good thing to be wakened in the night.
Here’s one of my troublings: I am very troubled about some things that are going on in our Worship Group. I have shared that this group has been such a blessing and answer to prayer for us. Because of legal issues associated with my probation I am not allowed to attend church. We felt completely blessed and provided for when we were able to connect with this group through the Transformation Network that my PO approved our affiliating and worshipping with. They have been so open and accepting.
The Sunday worship group is led by a husband and wife who have started house groups in the past. They tend to work with disenfranchised people. The husband leads the Bible study and he truly has a heart for the Word and for small group ministry. The wife has such a warm, compassionate spirit. I connected with them immediately. There are others in the group equally warm and connectable.
Then there’s this other couple. They lead the Wednesday night prayer time. They found their way to the group because they are recovering alcoholics. They are very passionate for prayer and for the Word. They have considerable money. They have strong opinions. They are somewhat rigid. They are very legalistic. Some of the things they are saying and doing are causing a serious uneasiness and anxiety in my spirit.
For example, Wednesday when we arrived for prayer, D announced that we talk too much and that we were not going to waste any time talking, but get immediately to prayer. It didn’t feel right to me. I felt a strong need to check in with the others, to share what I had "brought" to prayer and find out how and where they were. Nope. Jump in we did.
Then, D began to use prayer time to inform and instruct us. It’s like people can get away with saying things "in prayer" that they can’t say directly to people and people can’t argue with it because it was part of prayer. In my book that’s manipulation and I was horribly uncomfortable with it. Part of what D prayed about was a conflict he was having with the director of T-Net. It wasn’t explicit, but you’d have to have been living under a rock not to get his drift.
The worst part was when he started praying for the "guys in the program." Technically, I’m one of the "guys." I’m a part of T-Net because of my legal issues, because I’m on probation, because I’m working (with God’s help and provision) to put my life back on track. His prayer weighed heavy on my spirit.
When prayer time was over, I was ready to walk out of that building and never go back. I knew that there would be no talking, or reasoning, with this man. It would be as affective as Jesus talking with the Pharisees. I thought about talking to the wife of the worship group leader and I still might do that. I want to check my impressions with someone who was there. Maybe I perceived wrongly. Maybe I over-reacted. I am willing to be wrong and have my attitude and assumptions corrected.
I did talk to the director (who I felt had been maligned in prayer). He’s been concerned that D has been spreading a negative spirit about and through the ministry of T-Net. D and his wife have suggested that the group not meet at T-Net, separate themselves from that ministry altogether. That wouldn’t be good for me since my involvement is directly connected to the connection with T-Net. It’s not that God wouldn’t provide another opportunity for worship, but we were just forming bonds with these people. (Insert a feeling of heartache with a smattering of major disappointment.)
Yesterday (probably in anticipation of having to worship with D and his wife) I sensed a minor churning within. My first inclination was to tell Nelson that I just didn’t want to be a part of the worship group or T-Net any longer. That’s rash and not of God.
Then I was awakened at 5:30 this morning. Then God took me on a journey reminding me of His word, His promises, His continued provision for all my needs. And my heart feels much more at peace. I don’t have the answer for "what" I’m going to do. I feel very content to take it one step at a time and trust that as the situation presents itself, I will have the answers that I will need. I feel no need to rush and I feel no need to run.
And honestly, that feels really, really good.
It’s Sunday morning. I don’t have to be up until 7:30. That’s when Beth wanted me to start playing human alarm clock for her. At that, 7:30 is still sleeping way late for me. I set my alarm as I laid my head to rest last night and smiled at the seeming decadence of the sweet extra sleep.
My eyes opened at 5:33am. I thought perhaps it was a check and roll moment. Nope. I was wide awake. I checked in with God. Are you sure you want me up this early? It’s always good to check the source of wakening. Maybe I just needed to make a quick potty run. Nope. Sigh. Off went the alarm and I scooted out of bed.
I made my potty run–can’t get up without that these days. And then I headed to the computer. I checked my email where I get prayer requests. Nothing there. I went to my two journal sites to check on my favs to see if someone was requesting prayer or sharing a burden that I could take to prayer. Not it. I sat quietly for a moment. Could it be Lord, that this time was just for me? I must confess, that’s not ever happened before. What would I do with this?
In my fav/bookmarked list, I have a folder with different devotional/meditation sites. I decided to work my way through them. It didn’t take long, before I realized that I was right where God wanted me to be: praying, centering, meditating on God and upon the Word. Weeping, confessing, and reaching out to the One who was reaching out to me.
There’s a site that I really, really like to go to for focused meditation. It’s so saturated with the Word and always seems to hit home for me. http://reflections.gospelcom.net/ is the addy. Ken Boa’s style and writing just seems to hit me right where and when I need it. I was amazed at how today’s daily affirmation seemed to sum up all the devotional thoughts and scriptures of the week for me. But not only that, it also pulled out my fears and troublings and helped me to direct them Godward.
It is a good thing to be wakened in the night.
Here’s one of my troublings: I am very troubled about some things that are going on in our Worship Group. I have shared that this group has been such a blessing and answer to prayer for us. Because of legal issues associated with my probation I am not allowed to attend church. We felt completely blessed and provided for when we were able to connect with this group through the Transformation Network that my PO approved our affiliating and worshipping with. They have been so open and accepting.
The Sunday worship group is led by a husband and wife who have started house groups in the past. They tend to work with disenfranchised people. The husband leads the Bible study and he truly has a heart for the Word and for small group ministry. The wife has such a warm, compassionate spirit. I connected with them immediately. There are others in the group equally warm and connectable.
Then there’s this other couple. They lead the Wednesday night prayer time. They found their way to the group because they are recovering alcoholics. They are very passionate for prayer and for the Word. They have considerable money. They have strong opinions. They are somewhat rigid. They are very legalistic. Some of the things they are saying and doing are causing a serious uneasiness and anxiety in my spirit.
For example, Wednesday when we arrived for prayer, D announced that we talk too much and that we were not going to waste any time talking, but get immediately to prayer. It didn’t feel right to me. I felt a strong need to check in with the others, to share what I had "brought" to prayer and find out how and where they were. Nope. Jump in we did.
Then, D began to use prayer time to inform and instruct us. It’s like people can get away with saying things "in prayer" that they can’t say directly to people and people can’t argue with it because it was part of prayer. In my book that’s manipulation and I was horribly uncomfortable with it. Part of what D prayed about was a conflict he was having with the director of T-Net. It wasn’t explicit, but you’d have to have been living under a rock not to get his drift.
The worst part was when he started praying for the "guys in the program." Technically, I’m one of the "guys." I’m a part of T-Net because of my legal issues, because I’m on probation, because I’m working (with God’s help and provision) to put my life back on track. His prayer weighed heavy on my spirit.
When prayer time was over, I was ready to walk out of that building and never go back. I knew that there would be no talking, or reasoning, with this man. It would be as affective as Jesus talking with the Pharisees. I thought about talking to the wife of the worship group leader and I still might do that. I want to check my impressions with someone who was there. Maybe I perceived wrongly. Maybe I over-reacted. I am willing to be wrong and have my attitude and assumptions corrected.
I did talk to the director (who I felt had been maligned in prayer). He’s been concerned that D has been spreading a negative spirit about and through the ministry of T-Net. D and his wife have suggested that the group not meet at T-Net, separate themselves from that ministry altogether. That wouldn’t be good for me since my involvement is directly connected to the connection with T-Net. It’s not that God wouldn’t provide another opportunity for worship, but we were just forming bonds with these people. (Insert a feeling of heartache with a smattering of major disappointment.)
Yesterday (probably in anticipation of having to worship with D and his wife) I sensed a minor churning within. My first inclination was to tell Nelson that I just didn’t want to be a part of the worship group or T-Net any longer. That’s rash and not of God.
Then I was awakened at 5:30 this morning. Then God took me on a journey reminding me of His word, His promises, His continued provision for all my needs. And my heart feels much more at peace. I don’t have the answer for "what" I’m going to do. I feel very content to take it one step at a time and trust that as the situation presents itself, I will have the answers that I will need. I feel no need to rush and I feel no need to run.
And honestly, that feels really, really good.
Friday, January 28, 2005
The Week in Review: Many Blessings
I want to start out with something neat that occurred yesterday. Beth, our younger (21) daughter, is sick. She’s been feeling badly since Monday. Wednesday when she came home from work we looked in her throat and there two huge white blotchy spots. We determined she wasn’t going to work and we would try to get her into the doctor on Thursday. Nelson stayed home and did "nurse Dad" duty for the first shift.
Fortunately, we were able to get her into the doctor in the morning. She took one look at Beth’s throat and gasped. She knew it was either strep or staff infection and since she knew our financial situation (low income and no insurance) she passed on the culture and prescribed amoxocillian. Nelson and Beth made their way over to Walmart to get the script filled. They were the second ones in line. Thursday the pharmacy was having a one day sale. They were filling all scripts for amoxocillian FREE! We accepted their gracious offer.
Coincidence? I think not. I’m thankful again, as always, for God’s amazing provision.
Beth has taken three pills and all the white is gone from her throat! She’s back to her opinionated self. She’s not to go back to work until Sunday. I hope we survive that long!
It’s been a long but good week otherwise. Monday there wasn’t any work for us at the factory, so I went to the other daughter’s and played with my granddaughter all day! In the evening Ann had a Pampered Chef party. It was fun. Almost everyone who came was family of my SIL. They are so open and accepting of Annie. It makes me feel really good.
Tuesday I drove home early and got to the factory shortly after 10am. We worked hard and put out over 700parts. We worked Wednesday, Thursday and Friday as well. Today, Nelson didn’t have any pressing construction work so he came and helped us out. It was fun to work together. When the day was over I asked him what he thought of my little job. He said I should either ask for more money or find another job. He said I work too hard and get paid too little. I’m not sure how realistic that all is since he has such an inflated estimation of my value. (It’s quite nice to be treasured!)
I ordered Thomas Moores’ "Care of the Soul" from half.com and it arrived the other day. I left my book about David at my sister’s last weekend (I love to have a book with me to read, but there’s always a 50/50 chance I’ll forget it...just a little scattered). This definitely not going to be a book that I will race through. You’ll most likely hear more about that later...
As for my computer...My darling husband (persevering soul that he is) was able to make it work. In fact it is working faster than it has in a very long time. The drawback is that all my files appear to be gone (and since nothing I write is worth up to $300, they’ll stay gone!). I hope that he is able to get it back on line sometime this weekend. In the meantime I will work on his computer. It’s such a blessing to have more than one computer.
I’m looking forward to a relaxing weekend. Nothing is planned. I think that will be quite nice!
Fortunately, we were able to get her into the doctor in the morning. She took one look at Beth’s throat and gasped. She knew it was either strep or staff infection and since she knew our financial situation (low income and no insurance) she passed on the culture and prescribed amoxocillian. Nelson and Beth made their way over to Walmart to get the script filled. They were the second ones in line. Thursday the pharmacy was having a one day sale. They were filling all scripts for amoxocillian FREE! We accepted their gracious offer.
Coincidence? I think not. I’m thankful again, as always, for God’s amazing provision.
Beth has taken three pills and all the white is gone from her throat! She’s back to her opinionated self. She’s not to go back to work until Sunday. I hope we survive that long!
It’s been a long but good week otherwise. Monday there wasn’t any work for us at the factory, so I went to the other daughter’s and played with my granddaughter all day! In the evening Ann had a Pampered Chef party. It was fun. Almost everyone who came was family of my SIL. They are so open and accepting of Annie. It makes me feel really good.
Tuesday I drove home early and got to the factory shortly after 10am. We worked hard and put out over 700parts. We worked Wednesday, Thursday and Friday as well. Today, Nelson didn’t have any pressing construction work so he came and helped us out. It was fun to work together. When the day was over I asked him what he thought of my little job. He said I should either ask for more money or find another job. He said I work too hard and get paid too little. I’m not sure how realistic that all is since he has such an inflated estimation of my value. (It’s quite nice to be treasured!)
I ordered Thomas Moores’ "Care of the Soul" from half.com and it arrived the other day. I left my book about David at my sister’s last weekend (I love to have a book with me to read, but there’s always a 50/50 chance I’ll forget it...just a little scattered). This definitely not going to be a book that I will race through. You’ll most likely hear more about that later...
As for my computer...My darling husband (persevering soul that he is) was able to make it work. In fact it is working faster than it has in a very long time. The drawback is that all my files appear to be gone (and since nothing I write is worth up to $300, they’ll stay gone!). I hope that he is able to get it back on line sometime this weekend. In the meantime I will work on his computer. It’s such a blessing to have more than one computer.
I’m looking forward to a relaxing weekend. Nothing is planned. I think that will be quite nice!
Monday, January 24, 2005
Further Reflection
I couldn't shake the sadness. I couldn't understand it either. Good grief, it's just a machine. There had to be more. So I took a deep breath, and asked to be let further into whatever it was that troubling me.
Now, I don't know about you, but there are times when it's just easier to be in denial; to blythfully wander in the fog and never fully get to the heart of the troubling. It's like walking past a door. There might be a twinge of interest, but with everything else that needs to be done, it's just as easy to truly "leave well enough alone."
This, however, was not one of those times. This gray fog weighed too much to truly ignore. It needed to be explored.
So I was sitting at devotions at T-Net, trying to look like I was interested, but my mind was so far away. Then the breath. Then the truth.
There was a time when I was so driven. I had such a sense of self-importance. I was caught up in looking technologically savvy. I surrounded myself with gizmos and gadgets. I lived and died by my Daytimer. I couldn't function without my PalmPilot near at hand. I carried two cell phones and two pagers. And always present wherever I went was my laptop. If I showed up at a meeting without it, people expressed surprise and wonderment at what might be "wrong" with me.
When life changed, I lost all the busy entrapments. I wasn't "important" any more. I didn't have a "schedule" to keep. I no longer needed to hide behind my technology. My PalmPilot was relegated to a portable Scrabble game. I don't know where my Daytimer even is anymore. I haven't had a cell phone for two years. The pagers are gone.
The last thing left was my computer. And now it's gone. And with it the last real piece of that identity, of that reminder of my life. Even dead, I sensed that I was clinging to it. "Let it go. Can you let it go?" That is what I heard during devotions this morning.
Yes. If my computer is replaced (which I don't imagine will happen) it will be a true gift, but I don't need it in my life anymore. And with that realization, with that admition, came a lighter feeling. I'm still sad for all the things I've lost, but I don't feel weighted down with grief. It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay.
So, now I need to pack. There wasn't any work today so I get to go spend time with that talented and beautiful granddaughter of mine. And with the grayness gone, I feel much more able to enjoy her--to enjoy today.
Now, I don't know about you, but there are times when it's just easier to be in denial; to blythfully wander in the fog and never fully get to the heart of the troubling. It's like walking past a door. There might be a twinge of interest, but with everything else that needs to be done, it's just as easy to truly "leave well enough alone."
This, however, was not one of those times. This gray fog weighed too much to truly ignore. It needed to be explored.
So I was sitting at devotions at T-Net, trying to look like I was interested, but my mind was so far away. Then the breath. Then the truth.
There was a time when I was so driven. I had such a sense of self-importance. I was caught up in looking technologically savvy. I surrounded myself with gizmos and gadgets. I lived and died by my Daytimer. I couldn't function without my PalmPilot near at hand. I carried two cell phones and two pagers. And always present wherever I went was my laptop. If I showed up at a meeting without it, people expressed surprise and wonderment at what might be "wrong" with me.
When life changed, I lost all the busy entrapments. I wasn't "important" any more. I didn't have a "schedule" to keep. I no longer needed to hide behind my technology. My PalmPilot was relegated to a portable Scrabble game. I don't know where my Daytimer even is anymore. I haven't had a cell phone for two years. The pagers are gone.
The last thing left was my computer. And now it's gone. And with it the last real piece of that identity, of that reminder of my life. Even dead, I sensed that I was clinging to it. "Let it go. Can you let it go?" That is what I heard during devotions this morning.
Yes. If my computer is replaced (which I don't imagine will happen) it will be a true gift, but I don't need it in my life anymore. And with that realization, with that admition, came a lighter feeling. I'm still sad for all the things I've lost, but I don't feel weighted down with grief. It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay.
So, now I need to pack. There wasn't any work today so I get to go spend time with that talented and beautiful granddaughter of mine. And with the grayness gone, I feel much more able to enjoy her--to enjoy today.
Bootstraps Missing
Well, I’m home. Actually, I got home yesterday. My sis and I met Nel and Beth at a Bob Evans’ that’s about half-way yesterday morning. We were so uncertain about what we would find that we left way, way too early. What we found, to our amazement (given the way the wind shook the house the night before) were clear, dry roads. They were clear for Nel and Beth, too. So, after sharing a meal together, we came home.
Home. I was pleased to find that Nel had kept up with dishes, did laundry (I will have to put it away–but that’s ok), and kept up on the trash. He bought a belt for the vacuum and that’s one step closer to be fixed. But the sweetest surprise is that he hung my lamp over the chair in the bedroom, truly giving me that "corner chair" space I was craving. It puts a smile on my heart!
We spent the afternoon sitting on the couch together watching football. I was disappointed in both games, as neither of my teams won. I guess I’m just going to have to quit rooting for the underdog. But it’s so a part of who I am.
I did have a much bigger disappointment yesterday. I have wanted to write about it, but it seems so selfish that I’ve hesitated. Somehow, I don’t feel like I have the right to my sense of loss. Since it occurred, I have a feeling of disorientation and sadness that has left me on the verge of tears. I keep wanting to attribute it to exhaustion from the trip home–but I don’t think that’s it.
As is my habit, I was quick to plug in my laptop up returning home. This laptop has been my constant companion since Oct. 8, 2001. That was the day I turned myself in for my crime. That day is one of the annual anniversary days that Nel and I celebrate. He had left the computer sitting on the front seat of my car for me to find when I went to work–which I never did. It was such a gift of love. Having that computer really got me through some rough times the past few years. So many of my thoughts were etched in its hard drive. So many of my feelings pounded out on its keyboard. My book was in there.
Yesterday, I was excited to pull up my thoughts from my trip and plug them into my blog/journal, but all I got was a black screen. Gone. But still sitting there. Staring back at me empty. Thoughts unretrievable. I want to cry, but I can’t. I want to be angry, but I can’t. I can’t justify tears or torment over a machine.
And I don’t know which is worse. That it’s gone, or that it will not be replaced. Having my laptop was a piece of independence–a part of my identity. But given our financial situation, there’s no way to replace her.
I woke up this morning knowing I was going to my "pay little" job to work my butt off. I’m driving over to Annie’s after work, because she’s having a "Pampered Chef" party. I’ll be happy to see Penelope, but even that joy feels overshadowed.
I can’t seem to find my bootstraps this morning, and I don’t like feeling this way.
Home. I was pleased to find that Nel had kept up with dishes, did laundry (I will have to put it away–but that’s ok), and kept up on the trash. He bought a belt for the vacuum and that’s one step closer to be fixed. But the sweetest surprise is that he hung my lamp over the chair in the bedroom, truly giving me that "corner chair" space I was craving. It puts a smile on my heart!
We spent the afternoon sitting on the couch together watching football. I was disappointed in both games, as neither of my teams won. I guess I’m just going to have to quit rooting for the underdog. But it’s so a part of who I am.
I did have a much bigger disappointment yesterday. I have wanted to write about it, but it seems so selfish that I’ve hesitated. Somehow, I don’t feel like I have the right to my sense of loss. Since it occurred, I have a feeling of disorientation and sadness that has left me on the verge of tears. I keep wanting to attribute it to exhaustion from the trip home–but I don’t think that’s it.
As is my habit, I was quick to plug in my laptop up returning home. This laptop has been my constant companion since Oct. 8, 2001. That was the day I turned myself in for my crime. That day is one of the annual anniversary days that Nel and I celebrate. He had left the computer sitting on the front seat of my car for me to find when I went to work–which I never did. It was such a gift of love. Having that computer really got me through some rough times the past few years. So many of my thoughts were etched in its hard drive. So many of my feelings pounded out on its keyboard. My book was in there.
Yesterday, I was excited to pull up my thoughts from my trip and plug them into my blog/journal, but all I got was a black screen. Gone. But still sitting there. Staring back at me empty. Thoughts unretrievable. I want to cry, but I can’t. I want to be angry, but I can’t. I can’t justify tears or torment over a machine.
And I don’t know which is worse. That it’s gone, or that it will not be replaced. Having my laptop was a piece of independence–a part of my identity. But given our financial situation, there’s no way to replace her.
I woke up this morning knowing I was going to my "pay little" job to work my butt off. I’m driving over to Annie’s after work, because she’s having a "Pampered Chef" party. I’ll be happy to see Penelope, but even that joy feels overshadowed.
I can’t seem to find my bootstraps this morning, and I don’t like feeling this way.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Notes from Blizardville
There’s just something wrong about leaving the70 degree weather of Arizona and landing in Ohio in the middle of a blizzard. But land we did. And home I am. Well sort of. I’m at my sister’s house. It was so bad up where we live that my hub had my sis pick me up at the airport. We’re going to try and get me home tomorrow…that may prove interesting given the way the snow was coming down and blowing a moment ago.
It’s weather like this that makes me want to run all the way back to Arizona.
I had a good week with my mom. We played over 60 games of Scrabble. I won the series by 5 games. I worked hard to win them all. My mom wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She taught me how to play, taught me all the nuances of the game, and takes pride in my skill in the game. It was so incredibly fun to play for hours on end with her.
In addition to lots and lots of Scrabble, I read two novels this week. Me. Read fictional books. Two of them. Please be impressed. My goal for the whole year was to read one, and I read two. Since it was so glorious out there, I also did some walking each day and while I walked, I was actually thinking of characters to write about and stories that I could write. Me. Stories. Be afraid.
When I got to my sister’s house, one of the first things that I did was get online. A whole week without the internet was hard for me. I was surprised at how quickly the time went, and how much I didn’t really crave. I only had one weak moment. We had lunch with my aunt (Mom’s sis) and afterward went into her house for a visit. My uncle tinkers around online, so I knew it would be quite easy to persuade him to at least check my email. But I resisted. So I’ve been getting my fix here at my sis’s. She went to bed around 7:30pm, so I’m not even going to feel guilty taking my time to catch up on my favorite blogs and journals.
When I finished the novels I returned to reading Peterson’s book Leap Over A Wall (Selections on the life of David) Earthy Spirituality for Everyday Christians. I liked this thought (from page 62): “…in the company of David we find someone who does it as badly as, or worse than, we do, but who in the process doesn’t quit, doesn’t withdraw from God. David’s isn’t an ideal life but an actual life….Reentering through my believing imagination the world of David, I’m more myself—free to be myself and able to find God in the middle of what’s going on right now.”
There’s more to read and learn. But so far, I’m really encouraged. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think this evening is starting to require some cocoa…with marshmallows.
It’s weather like this that makes me want to run all the way back to Arizona.
I had a good week with my mom. We played over 60 games of Scrabble. I won the series by 5 games. I worked hard to win them all. My mom wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She taught me how to play, taught me all the nuances of the game, and takes pride in my skill in the game. It was so incredibly fun to play for hours on end with her.
In addition to lots and lots of Scrabble, I read two novels this week. Me. Read fictional books. Two of them. Please be impressed. My goal for the whole year was to read one, and I read two. Since it was so glorious out there, I also did some walking each day and while I walked, I was actually thinking of characters to write about and stories that I could write. Me. Stories. Be afraid.
When I got to my sister’s house, one of the first things that I did was get online. A whole week without the internet was hard for me. I was surprised at how quickly the time went, and how much I didn’t really crave. I only had one weak moment. We had lunch with my aunt (Mom’s sis) and afterward went into her house for a visit. My uncle tinkers around online, so I knew it would be quite easy to persuade him to at least check my email. But I resisted. So I’ve been getting my fix here at my sis’s. She went to bed around 7:30pm, so I’m not even going to feel guilty taking my time to catch up on my favorite blogs and journals.
When I finished the novels I returned to reading Peterson’s book Leap Over A Wall (Selections on the life of David) Earthy Spirituality for Everyday Christians. I liked this thought (from page 62): “…in the company of David we find someone who does it as badly as, or worse than, we do, but who in the process doesn’t quit, doesn’t withdraw from God. David’s isn’t an ideal life but an actual life….Reentering through my believing imagination the world of David, I’m more myself—free to be myself and able to find God in the middle of what’s going on right now.”
There’s more to read and learn. But so far, I’m really encouraged. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think this evening is starting to require some cocoa…with marshmallows.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
The Hardest Decisions
I think that the hardest decisions are always between two goods.
This morning I fly out of frigid, flooded Ohio for the sun, sand, and sweetness of a week with my mom in Arizona. We will start playing Scrabble as soon as our eyes are open and play until long after our little heads should have hit the pillow. I love it. It's like I'm catching up on all the "momming" I missed while I was young and she drunk.
I love to walk while I'm out there, too. I take a break from the games and head out for at least an hour hike around town. It's so beautiful there. She lives in Green Valley, just south of Tucson. The town is surrounded by mountains. The contrast in colors from the desert golds to the beautiful blue endless sky steals my breath. I just can't seem to soak enough of it in.
When I'm there I just get a feeling down in my soul, a smile in my heart. It's as if I know at my core that I'm supposed to be out there. My mom would love for us to move out there. She's not even subtle about it in her pleas. It's a temptation that is terribly hard to resist.
But then I have a week like I just had: caring for my granddaughter. And let me tell you...nothing is so sweet or warming to my heart. Even when she pukes three times during the night and I have a mountain of laundry to do already. I can't even imagine not being a part of her life. I don't want to.
So how does one decide? This is a difficult place to be in. I have torn allegences. On the one hand, my relationship with my mom is something that is blossoming and I treasure it, and I don't know how long I will have her in my life. Then, on the other, I also treasure the close bond between my daughter and I...and how could I not be around for every precious thing Penelope does.
I know this is small potatoes compared to issues that others face around the world. I am rich for the relationships that I have. I guess I'm just being selfish. I want to figure out a way to have it all. The trick to that would be to convince Annie's husband that year round golf in Arizona is awesome and he could still go hunting. Then everyone would be in Arizona.
Well, I'm not going to solve this before I get to the airport so I will close. I'll be off here for a week, as mom doesn't have a computer. Can't get her to connect...I'll keep working on that....
This morning I fly out of frigid, flooded Ohio for the sun, sand, and sweetness of a week with my mom in Arizona. We will start playing Scrabble as soon as our eyes are open and play until long after our little heads should have hit the pillow. I love it. It's like I'm catching up on all the "momming" I missed while I was young and she drunk.
I love to walk while I'm out there, too. I take a break from the games and head out for at least an hour hike around town. It's so beautiful there. She lives in Green Valley, just south of Tucson. The town is surrounded by mountains. The contrast in colors from the desert golds to the beautiful blue endless sky steals my breath. I just can't seem to soak enough of it in.
When I'm there I just get a feeling down in my soul, a smile in my heart. It's as if I know at my core that I'm supposed to be out there. My mom would love for us to move out there. She's not even subtle about it in her pleas. It's a temptation that is terribly hard to resist.
But then I have a week like I just had: caring for my granddaughter. And let me tell you...nothing is so sweet or warming to my heart. Even when she pukes three times during the night and I have a mountain of laundry to do already. I can't even imagine not being a part of her life. I don't want to.
So how does one decide? This is a difficult place to be in. I have torn allegences. On the one hand, my relationship with my mom is something that is blossoming and I treasure it, and I don't know how long I will have her in my life. Then, on the other, I also treasure the close bond between my daughter and I...and how could I not be around for every precious thing Penelope does.
I know this is small potatoes compared to issues that others face around the world. I am rich for the relationships that I have. I guess I'm just being selfish. I want to figure out a way to have it all. The trick to that would be to convince Annie's husband that year round golf in Arizona is awesome and he could still go hunting. Then everyone would be in Arizona.
Well, I'm not going to solve this before I get to the airport so I will close. I'll be off here for a week, as mom doesn't have a computer. Can't get her to connect...I'll keep working on that....
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Way Cool God Thing
I had a “way cool God thing” happen today.
I was under the impression that today we were going to meet and get retrained before returning to the factory. Instead we had the opportunity to go out and work. And work we did.
I still haven’t been able to buy steel toe shoes, so I’m still having to put on these toe protectors that have a metal bar on the bottom and a rubber band that goes around your heel. When you walk you sound like a horse clomping—quite attractive. They have a tendency to ride up and the metal makes the ball of my foot ache.
At lunch I was sitting on the edge of a pity party. I knew that I needed steel toe shoes, but we have a $700 gas bill (heating) because they’ve been sending it to the wrong address and rent is due again in two short weeks. No matter what the need I just didn’t have the heart to even ask for the money for shoes.
So, I went to the break room feeling slightly dejected. I was getting ready to sit down to eat my lunch when I noticed something in my pocket. This was the first time I had worn the jeans. I had bought them at my favorite boutique: Le Will de Good (aka Goodwill). I had bought them on New Year’s Eve and hadn’t worn them until today. I knew that I hadn’t put anything in the pocket. I carefully reached into the pocket, fearing that I was going to find someone’s nasty used tissue. What I found was much better than that!
I may have reached in gingerly, but I pulled out quickly! Money. There was a folded bill in my pocket. I squealed right out loud when I discovered a $20 bill in my hand! There was the answer to the prayer I hadn’t even figured out how to put into words. I knew that $20 wouldn’t be enough to buy steel toe shoes, but that along with the $5 check I got in the mail for doing an online survey should cover my need.
Tonight I made a trip to our local Walmart. I found a pair of shoes that look like tennis shoes, are pretty lightweight and they cost me (with tax)$24.57!
I just felt I needed to give a shout out for God tonight. He truly is the God who supplies my every need.
Yours too.
I was under the impression that today we were going to meet and get retrained before returning to the factory. Instead we had the opportunity to go out and work. And work we did.
I still haven’t been able to buy steel toe shoes, so I’m still having to put on these toe protectors that have a metal bar on the bottom and a rubber band that goes around your heel. When you walk you sound like a horse clomping—quite attractive. They have a tendency to ride up and the metal makes the ball of my foot ache.
At lunch I was sitting on the edge of a pity party. I knew that I needed steel toe shoes, but we have a $700 gas bill (heating) because they’ve been sending it to the wrong address and rent is due again in two short weeks. No matter what the need I just didn’t have the heart to even ask for the money for shoes.
So, I went to the break room feeling slightly dejected. I was getting ready to sit down to eat my lunch when I noticed something in my pocket. This was the first time I had worn the jeans. I had bought them at my favorite boutique: Le Will de Good (aka Goodwill). I had bought them on New Year’s Eve and hadn’t worn them until today. I knew that I hadn’t put anything in the pocket. I carefully reached into the pocket, fearing that I was going to find someone’s nasty used tissue. What I found was much better than that!
I may have reached in gingerly, but I pulled out quickly! Money. There was a folded bill in my pocket. I squealed right out loud when I discovered a $20 bill in my hand! There was the answer to the prayer I hadn’t even figured out how to put into words. I knew that $20 wouldn’t be enough to buy steel toe shoes, but that along with the $5 check I got in the mail for doing an online survey should cover my need.
Tonight I made a trip to our local Walmart. I found a pair of shoes that look like tennis shoes, are pretty lightweight and they cost me (with tax)$24.57!
I just felt I needed to give a shout out for God tonight. He truly is the God who supplies my every need.
Yours too.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Thoughts Amidst the Toys
To look at my living room right now, one might wonder if a natural disaster had occurred, or if the apparent ransacking was due to a robbery of sorts. The truth is neither. The truth is that the one year old granddaughter has arrived, or better put: exploded onto the scene!
Yesterday I met my daughter at a half-way point and collected Penelope and her things for a week visit at Gramm’s and Pepa’s. I had spent a bit of time re-babyproofing the house in the morning. Penelope added her own decorating touches upon her arrival.
So now there are toys strewn from the front door to the back door. It’s a veritable obstacle course. Fortunately, I remembered to turn on the light in the middle of the night when I went to refill the bottle so that I didn’t locate any sharp corners with my half asleep feet.
I sat on the couch this morning, in the quiet before anyone else was awake. There was a time when the chaos of toys all over would have caused a frenzy within me. This morning it only made me smile. I love being a grammy. I love that when my daughter is having a hectic week (she starts a new job next week and has an open house for her House and Garden Party stuff this weekend) that I can swoop in and rescue both her and the baby from inevitable stress. I love watching Penelope play, the way she discovers and explores the world. I love calling her mom four times to tell her all the adorable things she’s doing, some for the very first time.
I love that there isn’t the pressure to produce a perfect child, to present the perfect family. I spent so much of energy when my children were little trying to raise them "right." That’s clearly leftover crud from when I was growing up. It was very clear that we (my brother, sister, and I) were groomed to make our parents look good.. But no matter how hard we tried, we were still the three monsters, and there was a definite sense in which we were always one step short of pleasing our parents.
My father died in 1989. Even as an adult, I still carried that need to please him, and the feeling that I never did. My relationship has definitely changed with my mother. The woman that I am going to spend the week with next week, is not the woman who raised me. This new woman is fun, laughs, plays, talks, weeps, and loves me in ways that really touch my heart. And I love her.
I knew that woman was changing the Christmas after my dad died. My girls were five and six then and we had gone to Mom’s for Christmas. My brother and his wife and children were with us too. My mom let the kids (all four of them) jump on the sacred living room couch. She didn’t freak out when they put their wee little hands on the mirrored tiles behind the couch. She even gave them bowls of whipped cream to eat. I watched in amazement and wept tears of joy.
It was as if my mother had come through a heavy fog, had come out from underneath a dreary life-weighting cloud. Over the years I have realized that part of what weighed her down and sunk her spirit was a slavery to alcohol. But there was more. I came to believe that though she loved my father, she was totally lost to that process. It wasn’t until he was gone that she could become the person of life and joy that she is today.
So back to the natural disaster in my living room, et al. There as I sat amidst the clutter, I began to wonder what might be weighing me down, limiting my growth, sucking out my joy? I’m not sure I have any answers, but I’m going to be doing a lot of playing this week, so maybe in the freedom, I’ll find a few answers.
Yesterday I met my daughter at a half-way point and collected Penelope and her things for a week visit at Gramm’s and Pepa’s. I had spent a bit of time re-babyproofing the house in the morning. Penelope added her own decorating touches upon her arrival.
So now there are toys strewn from the front door to the back door. It’s a veritable obstacle course. Fortunately, I remembered to turn on the light in the middle of the night when I went to refill the bottle so that I didn’t locate any sharp corners with my half asleep feet.
I sat on the couch this morning, in the quiet before anyone else was awake. There was a time when the chaos of toys all over would have caused a frenzy within me. This morning it only made me smile. I love being a grammy. I love that when my daughter is having a hectic week (she starts a new job next week and has an open house for her House and Garden Party stuff this weekend) that I can swoop in and rescue both her and the baby from inevitable stress. I love watching Penelope play, the way she discovers and explores the world. I love calling her mom four times to tell her all the adorable things she’s doing, some for the very first time.
I love that there isn’t the pressure to produce a perfect child, to present the perfect family. I spent so much of energy when my children were little trying to raise them "right." That’s clearly leftover crud from when I was growing up. It was very clear that we (my brother, sister, and I) were groomed to make our parents look good.. But no matter how hard we tried, we were still the three monsters, and there was a definite sense in which we were always one step short of pleasing our parents.
My father died in 1989. Even as an adult, I still carried that need to please him, and the feeling that I never did. My relationship has definitely changed with my mother. The woman that I am going to spend the week with next week, is not the woman who raised me. This new woman is fun, laughs, plays, talks, weeps, and loves me in ways that really touch my heart. And I love her.
I knew that woman was changing the Christmas after my dad died. My girls were five and six then and we had gone to Mom’s for Christmas. My brother and his wife and children were with us too. My mom let the kids (all four of them) jump on the sacred living room couch. She didn’t freak out when they put their wee little hands on the mirrored tiles behind the couch. She even gave them bowls of whipped cream to eat. I watched in amazement and wept tears of joy.
It was as if my mother had come through a heavy fog, had come out from underneath a dreary life-weighting cloud. Over the years I have realized that part of what weighed her down and sunk her spirit was a slavery to alcohol. But there was more. I came to believe that though she loved my father, she was totally lost to that process. It wasn’t until he was gone that she could become the person of life and joy that she is today.
So back to the natural disaster in my living room, et al. There as I sat amidst the clutter, I began to wonder what might be weighing me down, limiting my growth, sucking out my joy? I’m not sure I have any answers, but I’m going to be doing a lot of playing this week, so maybe in the freedom, I’ll find a few answers.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
More than Morsels
This morning as I sat praying prior to one of our leaders bringing us a teaching from the Word, I began to feel like a little child: full of anticipation; trying hard to see what was coming; hoping for nibble of something from the table.
Hoping for a nibble…how many times has that characterized the way I have received? How often have I settled for a morsel, a nibble, and then left before the banquet was served? How like the Syrophoenician woman am I, willing to gather the crumbs that fall from the table that were left for the dogs?
Answer: Way too often.
Solution: Slow down, give in, wait, and wait some more.
One of my spiritual emphases for this year is to cultivate a holy habit of prayer. I was quite excited when the director of the Transformation Network (T-Net) announced that on Friday afternoons we would be shutting the agency down and using the time for prayer. His plan was that we would gather for lunch together at noon and then plan to be in prayer from 1-4. We changed the message on the answering machine and put a sign in the door that briefly described our intentions.
And so we met.
And we were met!
Wow! We started the time listening to a couple songs by Jason Upton (Faith and Freedom). I had never heard the guy, but I wish I had some extra cash so I could buy the CD. It was awesome. The words really set the tenor for the time. We were serious about honoring God and seeking for Him to honor us with his presence and His message for he time.
I’m afraid I must confess that I went into the meeting hopeful but honestly only anticipating nibbles. The time turned into the most lavish of banquet feasts. We prayed and praised, wept and walked. We truly had ears open to hearing and hearts open to receive.
Now, there are those who would think that spending 3 hours on a Friday afternoon in prayer would be a terrible waste of time. It was so much just the opposite. The world, with its focus on productivity wouldn’t see the value of stopping, waiting, and worshipping. Too bad for the world.
I left that gathering with that same childlike anticipation I felt this morning. What was God going to be doing next and how would I fit in? There was no thought of “if” God was going to work. It was all “when.” And I wanted to see it. I wanted to be ready for it.
I entered worship anticipating another feast. I believed that God was going to be present and that there would something for me, something so much more greatly satisfying than nibbles and morsels.
And I was not disappointed.
I believe that’s what God wants for His children. As we shared at the beginning of our time together, one woman was encouraged to share what God had been doing in her life. Her response was that she hadn’t come prepared to share anything. She came expecting nibbles. I felt sadness for her.
I chose to live my life believing, anticipating, looking for God to work and meet with me whether I am in church, at prayer, or sitting at my computer. No more nibbles or morsels for me!
Hoping for a nibble…how many times has that characterized the way I have received? How often have I settled for a morsel, a nibble, and then left before the banquet was served? How like the Syrophoenician woman am I, willing to gather the crumbs that fall from the table that were left for the dogs?
Answer: Way too often.
Solution: Slow down, give in, wait, and wait some more.
One of my spiritual emphases for this year is to cultivate a holy habit of prayer. I was quite excited when the director of the Transformation Network (T-Net) announced that on Friday afternoons we would be shutting the agency down and using the time for prayer. His plan was that we would gather for lunch together at noon and then plan to be in prayer from 1-4. We changed the message on the answering machine and put a sign in the door that briefly described our intentions.
And so we met.
And we were met!
Wow! We started the time listening to a couple songs by Jason Upton (Faith and Freedom). I had never heard the guy, but I wish I had some extra cash so I could buy the CD. It was awesome. The words really set the tenor for the time. We were serious about honoring God and seeking for Him to honor us with his presence and His message for he time.
I’m afraid I must confess that I went into the meeting hopeful but honestly only anticipating nibbles. The time turned into the most lavish of banquet feasts. We prayed and praised, wept and walked. We truly had ears open to hearing and hearts open to receive.
Now, there are those who would think that spending 3 hours on a Friday afternoon in prayer would be a terrible waste of time. It was so much just the opposite. The world, with its focus on productivity wouldn’t see the value of stopping, waiting, and worshipping. Too bad for the world.
I left that gathering with that same childlike anticipation I felt this morning. What was God going to be doing next and how would I fit in? There was no thought of “if” God was going to work. It was all “when.” And I wanted to see it. I wanted to be ready for it.
I entered worship anticipating another feast. I believed that God was going to be present and that there would something for me, something so much more greatly satisfying than nibbles and morsels.
And I was not disappointed.
I believe that’s what God wants for His children. As we shared at the beginning of our time together, one woman was encouraged to share what God had been doing in her life. Her response was that she hadn’t come prepared to share anything. She came expecting nibbles. I felt sadness for her.
I chose to live my life believing, anticipating, looking for God to work and meet with me whether I am in church, at prayer, or sitting at my computer. No more nibbles or morsels for me!
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Resolutions or Resolve
This morning at devotions, the leader asked us to think about our resolutions, or goals for this year. I had given a little thought to this, but having to put pen to paper at the direction of someone else caused me to think a little more about what I wanted for this year.
As I got a little more quiet and focused I was reminded of a verse that we had been considering in devotions recently: you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart soul, mind, and strength.
This verse has been a guiding principle in my life ever since I went to a seminar that used this verse to analyze the worship style of one’s congregation. The teacher helped us to see that every congregation works from one of four quadrants within a circle. The styles corresponded with heart (emotions), mind (intellect), spirit (spirituality), and strength (action).
I began to see how this principle of church styles applied to many other areas, like relationships. Sitting there considering goals, I was drawn to the circle once again.
It’s very easy, for me, to come up with goals for weight loss (action) or taking a class (mind). Thinking of the circle I began to sense a desire for balance within my goals. I wanted to consider goals that would affect my mind, heart, spirit, and strength. So here’s my first attack on this project:
Mind:
-Take a Family Living Class at T-Net.
-Read 5 books from 5 different genres (biography, history, culture, philosophy, and pschyology).
Heart:
-Reinvest in therapy.
-Read and do: Ending the Struggle Against Yourself
Spirit:
-Create a devotional space in my bedroom (a real corner space!)
-Read the Bible through (I bought a One Year Bible to assist in this goal)
-Really grow a prayer habit.
Action:
-Write…my book and some devotionals.
-Teach or lead group.
-Create the biblical resources materials for working with addictions and recovery.
-Work full-time again.
-Get healthy: lose weight and become active.
Essential in all this is balance and consistency.
Well, that’s a start. It’s not a checklist or a standard. It’s somewhere to go…a direction to head in. So, I’m off now to walk and live toward my goals.
As I got a little more quiet and focused I was reminded of a verse that we had been considering in devotions recently: you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart soul, mind, and strength.
This verse has been a guiding principle in my life ever since I went to a seminar that used this verse to analyze the worship style of one’s congregation. The teacher helped us to see that every congregation works from one of four quadrants within a circle. The styles corresponded with heart (emotions), mind (intellect), spirit (spirituality), and strength (action).
I began to see how this principle of church styles applied to many other areas, like relationships. Sitting there considering goals, I was drawn to the circle once again.
It’s very easy, for me, to come up with goals for weight loss (action) or taking a class (mind). Thinking of the circle I began to sense a desire for balance within my goals. I wanted to consider goals that would affect my mind, heart, spirit, and strength. So here’s my first attack on this project:
Mind:
-Take a Family Living Class at T-Net.
-Read 5 books from 5 different genres (biography, history, culture, philosophy, and pschyology).
Heart:
-Reinvest in therapy.
-Read and do: Ending the Struggle Against Yourself
Spirit:
-Create a devotional space in my bedroom (a real corner space!)
-Read the Bible through (I bought a One Year Bible to assist in this goal)
-Really grow a prayer habit.
Action:
-Write…my book and some devotionals.
-Teach or lead group.
-Create the biblical resources materials for working with addictions and recovery.
-Work full-time again.
-Get healthy: lose weight and become active.
Essential in all this is balance and consistency.
Well, that’s a start. It’s not a checklist or a standard. It’s somewhere to go…a direction to head in. So, I’m off now to walk and live toward my goals.
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