So much life to be lived

 It has been many years since I stumbled across this blog and posted. I don't really know if it's worth it to keep my thoughts here or not. No one will read them. 

Well, not now anyhow. 

But, isn't that what the light is about? It's about taking a look at highlights, so I'll give you a few big ones.

My life is so different than when I last posted here. I was divorced in 2016, met a new guy and fell in love in 2017, struggled with figuring out my life in 2018, left my long-term job in 2019, started a physical part-time warehouse job in 2019, began another part-time job in 2020, survived a worldwide pandemic in our home and got vaccinated regularly in 2020 and 2021. I left the warehouse job and my other part-time job and stepped into a new full-time gig with a payments processing software company. I am still at that company and I actually really like my job for the most part. Post-pandemic I mostly get to work from home, but seeing my co-workers in the office space at least once a week is good for my extroverted psyche.

That guy I fell in love with in 2017 asked me to marry him in 2020 - and we're finally going to tie the knot next month - September 2023. Yay! 

I look back at the past five years and realize how much life has been lived. I made space for the important things and let go of the toxic and uncomfortable things. The transition has been amazing, and my spiritual life is just as fulfilling and beautiful. The deep dark parts of my soul are still there, and the joyful enlightened parts are as well. 

I'm not saying that my life is perfect, because it's not. But, it's really good. Really, REALLY, good.  I have learned to trust and step out in places I haven't before. And, to me, that's what life is about. Live the lives we've been entrusted with. Don't just let them pass us by. Grow, learn, step out on faith, try something, and take a risk. It doesn't have to be a big deal. But, take one step at a time. 

Have you ever had THAT kind of a day?

Have you ever had that kind of a day? You know. The kind that starts out with a good night's sleep and a soft alarm clock ring. The kind that awakes in the warmth of a soft blanket and the knowledge that there are loved ones in the house? The kind that seems like everything should be right as rain.

Then, you get moving to get up, start breakfast, get dressed...and although everything should feel normal, something doesn't feel right. Everything in the morning routine is the same as it is every weekday. Same is good, isn't it?

Isn't it??!?

Why was there a trembling in my hands and a fear beginning to creep into my subconscious? What am I afraid of? It's just another day at work, at school, at life. Why was I so focused to get the tasks of my morning done, but then got distracted by a story on Facebook that began to shake me to my core?  I express my feelings. I
This story was a wonderful story of hope, of giving back to the community, of empowerment for women who are homeless. Why didn't it make me feel good? Why did it touch me so deeply? What was that about? What am I not paying attention to in my life that touched a nerve in this story? It is giving these women some dignity, some integrity, some hope and a future.

Why did it begin to make me think about my own life and what I'm choosing in the busy-ness of parenting and in the new decisions I'm making. Probably because I've been thinking about my life a lot lately. I need to feel dignity, integrity, and some hope for my future. Some hope for my kids future.

I am wholly and deeply loved by an unwavering God. So are my kids. So are you.

I need to be reminded. We all need to be reminded.

Monkey in the Middle

I don't remember a time that I've been fond of being in the middle. I'm torn between two places, two ages, two ways of being. To quote One Republic's Counting Stars - "I'm old, but I'm not that old. I'm young, but I'm not that bold."
I'm between this earthly ground and the heavenly realm...not really knowing or resting in either place. Call it liminal, between, or threshold space. I'm not sure what this is.

I had an interesting conversation on Twitter with a gal I haven't met in person, but who I've had other conversations with. She's a baseball fan, like me, and we've shared some interesting topics. But, the other night she posted how she wanted to be a mom, but was sure that any kid she had would hate her. I tried to reassure her that any child hates their parents - mine do on a regular basis. But, they're doing ok. - mediocre - in the middle.

She went on to talk about the really difficult life she had growing up, and how her younger sister is..."troubled." In my definition, what I know of this girl is that she, herself, has been troubled as well. Especially in her tweets about detox, jail, probation, and drinking. She's had some opportunities. But, her difficult past, and the following therapy has defined her life.
I mentioned that those experiences, good or bad, have shaped who she is. She took it as she should have learned from what happened. That's not what I said.

I realize how different my life has been than hers - how fortunate I was to have had such a relatively innoculous childhood and close relationship with my mom. That my dad was part of our lives until I was a teenager - and then although absent emotionally to us, he was still in the household until we three kids left the house. I was a good student, didn't get into any legal trouble, kept my nose clean. Although emotionally bouncing from one friendship, relationship, community, to the next.

I then married my high school sweetheart, had two beautiful children, established a career that I love, and worked very hard to be "the good girl" and live "a good life."

For all that I have worked for, I'm not any further along; still in between places. Not quite there, but not able to live grounded here. In transition, on the cusp of a breakdown or a breakthrough. Once again bouncing between friendships, relationships, and communities. Midlife crisis, or monkey in the middle?

in Courage

I'm a twitter-er. That is, I love to be "on" Twitter, and watch my timeline fill with baseball news and the lives of fellow fans. I love to see how others fit in this world, and how the human condition responds to a variety of stimulus.

So, as I do many mornings, get up and check Twitter - I find this bit of grace for the day that speaks volumes to my soul.

Enjoy.

http://www.incourage.me/2013/02/when-flesh-fights-fierce-we-just-want-joy.html

Sorting It Out - by ExploreFaith.org

In the middle of this season of Lent, I'm finding it encouraging to read and walk through different devotionals and ways to Sort it Out.

"Rather than viewing Lent as a season of drab and dreary self-examination and sacrifice that waters down its spiritual potency, we might see it as a time offered to us each year simply to sort things out. It can be an intentional period of 40 days that can be used to realign the disorder in our life that keep us out of balance with our own soul and with the God who loves us boundlessly, unconditionally, and eternally. Using Lent to take an honest look at the disarray inside ourselves with an eye to discarding the debris leaves us renewed, with eagerness, enthusiasm, gratitude, and a readiness to offer ourselves to God and to the world. "

 I've taken this time to be intentional about my food intake, and for the past 22 days I've given up partaking in things containing sugar, white processed flour, white rice, and pototoes. It includes all sweet things like honey and agave. It's been a difficult journey for me, but one that I am glad I have taken on in hopes to slow down, pay attention, and listen to God in a deeper and intentional way.
May these tools for your Lenten journey bring you intentional relationship with the creator of your soul, as they have done for me.

Explorefaith.org - Sorting It Out

Choosing light in dark places

Photo pinned from pleasantplacess.blogspot.com

It has been two months since my mom passed away. Her death was so unexpected and sudden, I think I was in shock for a long time after her hospital stay and into the funeral planning. I have actually been able to see again. Something feels different. I'm trying to find out what it is so I can explain it better, and comprehend it and hang onto it...but I don't know what that is.

I have been able to laugh with my kids and make a couple of jokes. I am able to see (a little) of how others are doing. There is much pain and grief in my community of friends, and I have been able to stop, listen, and pray for them. I want so much to be myself again. I want to be happy, and have physical energy to make dinner or do dishes. I'm not rushing into anything. My house is still a mess, and I'm not being a good parent. I am giving into lots of things, and discipline is falling by the wayside with stuff, just "stuff."


But, something that has become a discipline, is something that came upon me rather suddenly and unexpectedly. I had a major emotional crash on Valentine's Day. The next week was my birthday. If there were strong pieces of my year when I missed my mom...one would expect these would certainly be the days. And, because I can only make it one day at a time and forward thinking was pretty well put on the back burner for a while...I had totally forgot that Lent was approaching.


We attend a nondenominational Christian church that doesn't follow any traditional liturgical calendar. But, I believe significant seasons are important in the church. I mean, thank goodness it's Lent and not Advent. I'm glad people are putting on ashes on Ash Wednesday and sacrificing and entering into suffering with one another. It's becoming much more congruent with where my spirit is these days. I feel as if the whole Christian world is feeling my pain as well. Perhaps that's what I needed to be reminded of to snap out of my darkness.

Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday completely crept up on me almost unnoticed. But, I went to bed that Tuesday with a new mission. I gave up sugar 10 days ago. No white processed flour, no white rice, no potatoes, and no sugar! No honey, no agave, nothing. No fruit juice, either. Just fresh fruit, veggies, proteins and whole grains. It's one of the craziest things I've ever done, but maybe that was part of the kick-start I needed. I'm able to stop and read labels and think more seriously about food before it goes into my body. I'm not doing it for weight loss, although that's going to be an automatic benefit. I gave it up for Lent, a sacrifice to remind me of the desert place that Jesus was in before his crucifixion. I can journey through that desert place myself, and be grateful for His death and resurrection. That congruence of spirit has reminded me once again that I am loved deeply and dearly, and that I don't have to be afraid or fear that I am unlovable, because each of us were uniquely created by an amazing Father who loves us and knows us, and understands us. There is discipline in this fasting that God is teaching me more tangibly than I could have thought possible.

I wonder if the hormonal changes I've been dealing with have also been a factor in my moods. (But, I'm not discounting the grief. That's real.)

Someone I know was talking about a new part of his spiritual journey, and how the past couple of years after his mom's death he wished he would have done his grief differently. I understood so much of what he was saying...that others have no idea what you're going through, and what you feel, and how you change. But, loving someone in grief has got to one of the hardest things for any human to do. He changed a lot when his mom died. He felt anxiety. An extrovert who loved large groups of people suddenly was unable to be in a crowd without getting upset and feeling trapped. He said it was hard to feel sad and bring others down when everyone else was happy. He couldn't understand in his spirit how it was possible that others could be so happy, when he was so miserable. He said he is now ready to take a new leap, a new part of his journey to cut off the old misery and take a step of faith to follow Christ in a new way. He's getting married this summer to a wonderful young woman. I have really enjoyed getting to know them both, and this season for both of them has been a season that has shaped them and helped them grow.

One thing he said to me was that he wished he would have talked about memories of his mom more. Talking helps. He wished he would have asked for more help along the way, if even to say he didn't know what to ask for. So I've started to talk about my mom more and more. To mention the things she gave us, or things we used to do together, and how we used to be together. The memories are good, and we are so blessed by the amazing relationship that we had. I just miss her so much. It's like a part of me has died along with her.

I'm now trying to see a place where a part of her continues to live in me.

Some days are really dark

I've been exhausted lately. It's not for staying up late and writing, as you can tell. I actually get to bed at a relatively early time, just after (or before) my kids hit the sack. My body has been feeling the real effects of the emotional stress of my mother's death. My periods stopped the day she went to the hospital by ambulance. I have had issues with this in the past couple of years, and my doctor said everything is normal, but my over 40 age may have something to do with the changes. I have been dealing with debilitating headaches, and panic attacks. I have basically just felt horrible. But, I make it through most days just feeling sad and very run down.

I have been self-centered...and it's been too difficult to care what is going on with Facebook, or with friends who set me off for one thing or another. I have missed my upbeat and happy self. And, how do I put this...I feel that if I don't ever feel better or do the things I used to do...will my friends and family still love me? What is it about me that they love? What is that piece of me that is lovable? Am I lovable? Why would anyone want to love me?

I think I've been generally a bright and cheerful kind of person. I have hope and joy in life, from God, and my faith in Him has never been stronger. But, a recent birthday message from some people from church got me thinking about what they see in me, and I wasn't sure that was the real me. They said sweet loving things, and I just couldn't see myself that way. I see my self as a victim, something terrible has happened to me, and everyone around me should see that! What? Crazy? Of course I am! So crazy I'm unlovable, I'm sure!!! Only a couple of people love me even if I'm crazy, mean, hurtful and demanding. I am just not feeling that lovable.

Scary things set me off. I try to go about a normal day, and anything can trigger a huge emotional response of anger, sadness, despair, fear, and an outright feeling of being out of control. I've been angry that no one cares, no one thinks about me or reaches out to do something amazing for me. I have been caught off guard when someone asks how I'm doing...because all that I can say is that my mom passed away...and they just don't understand! Anything they try to offer is not helpful, because I don't want to hear about their experience with death and grief. I don't want to hear how they handled things. I can barely walk this road alone! And it's all about me, don't they know that?! If someone says something I think is stupid, I tell them straight out, and not in a nice way. It's childish, and foolish, and could be hurting some relationships. But, I want people to look deeper and see the pain and know that I'm hurting. I want others to know that I can't handle all of this pain. I need help, but can't muster enough of anything to ask for help, or even know what kind of help to ask for. I'm desperate, and have no words to say it nicely, so please just love me and hold me, even if you, too, are in pain or stress.

My dear friend mentioned something to me the other day that really struck me. A couple of years ago, when she was in the months immediately after a miscarriage, she was feeling the depths of despair and the grief was so dark. She cried all the time, and felt bad for not being able to snap out of it. She felt bad for counting the days until her due date, and every marker in the year after. She argued and disagreed with her counselor who told her to forget about the dates on the calendar. But, she told me that she remembered something very clearly that I had said to her. And...I barely remember saying it. She said, "I remember very clearly you were weeding the garden on the outside of the fence, and I was sitting next to you in a lawn chair and my daughter was in her stroller eating a snack." "Do you remember what you told me?" she asked. I said no. She said, "You told me to give myself permission to grieve."

I guess that's really how I've been feeling. I'm so much in pain, missing my mom, who was a HUGE part of my every day life. Every daily routine from waking up waiting for a phone call from her, to middle of the day when she would pick up the mail and call me to ask me to stop over to look at something she just got and didn't understand, to going out for coffee or breakfast or lunch with her. Those every day happenings are still shadows in my current life...and for a while it landed so hard on my heart and soul that I thought I'd never get out of the darkness. I struggled to see clearer, and move beyond the pain, but absolutely had no energy whatsoever to do that. I could barely make dinner for the kids, or get up to go to work. My days and nights are still like this. The dark is so dark, that I can't see anything!

Perhaps the time since her death has been so full of personally emotional markers already. Her birthday, my son's birthday, Valentine's Day, my birthday...etc. Yes, the dark is dark. But, there is more to the story, and there is light in the darkness...somewhere.

When Great Trees Fall

Many dear friends show kindness in my grief. A few weeks ago a friend shared this poem as something that gave her comfort in the past year after she lost her mother to cancer. I share this here as I remember my mom, and so I will remember to read it again.

When Great Trees Fall
Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.

When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with a
hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.

Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.

And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. 
Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored,
never to be the same,
whisper to us.
They existed. 
They existed.
We can be. 
Be and be better. 
For they existed.

Remembering Love on Valentine's Day

They say birthdays and holidays during the first year of loss are significant times in one's grief. In this new season, I remember my mom in each holiday. We remembered her birthday just a couple of weeks beyond her funeral. And, then my son's 7th birthday was spent missing her presence amidst the gifts, games, and food.

Today is February 14th. A day where cynics and lovers alike swoon over red heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, where the price of flowers skyrockets due to high demand, and greeting cards and e-cards alike are shared with those with whom we share affection. And, today, like other holidays, I remember Mom's thoughtfulness and the way she loved me and loved others. She taught me much about love, real love. Not the store-bought t-shirt with the art-deco word Love on it, or the way some people love their cars. She taught me about selfless, sacrificial love. Love that goes beyond how you feel or how you think. It's the kind of love that speaks with actions, not words.

I've experienced love...from many people in my life, my family, my friends. I know what love is, and I know what love isn't. These are just a few of the amazing ways others have loved me, and the ways I hope to love others. Now, some of these things are things that mom used to do. And, although I believe these are ways she showed her love, I cannot bring myself to do some of the same things. But, there are many of these things that I can do, and honestly do, for those that I really love.

Love shares the last piece of your favorite treat. Love offers a beverage to every service tech that walks through the door to fix something in the house. Love opens her home to visitors and hosts coffee and danish to the neighbors before work on the front porch. Love grabs another person's cold hands and presses them against her warm hands and arms and face to bring them back to room temperature. Love goes out of its way to pick out a special thoughtful gift and personally deliver it with a hug. Love brings coffee to a friend because there's a BOGO deal at Caribou. Love takes you shopping for a dress and pays for lunch. Love thinks about friends' birthdays months in advance, purchases cards, writes them out, puts a stamp on each one, and leaves them waiting to be dropped in the mailbox just before the said event. Love bakes a pie for the neighbors just because. Love generously shares time and life to listen and sit next to, and hang out with, and talk or not talk. Love cooks dinner, does all the dishes, and doesn't complain or ask for help. Love washes the laundry, dries it, folds it, and sends it back to college in a neat pile. Love takes the car for an oil change and car wash and brings it back with a full tank of gas. Love sees the uniqueness of her beloved, and finds ways to celebrate it. Love frugally gathers fabric and sews clothing for children who otherwise would go without. Love pours out belonging, acceptance, forgiveness, and humility over and over and over again. Love wants to be near her beloved, but allows freedom to fly and experience the world and all the love that is in it. Love allows choice to love in return. Love sees others through compassionate eyes and Love's heart breaks when others are in pain. Love has known pain and fear, and gives and loves anyways.  Love wants to make the world a better place because she has known difficulty and hardship. Love serves others and hosts others and shares life with others. Love keeps her children close and looks over their homework. Love tries to shield her beloved from harm and pain, but allows them to feel it so they can grow. Love makes her kids wear seat-belts in the car and enrolls them in swimming lessons. Love gives away love because she has known love and learned love from others. Love shares in her life, love shares in her death.


1Corinthians 13:1-13 (NIV)
May each of you feel the deep love of God in your lives today. This is what I have to hang onto in this season of missing someone who really showed me how to love, and what love is.

As you wish...

Each season comes with its ups and downs, and for a long season I had experienced a pretty joyful season. I was hungry for God, and finding strength for the journey from what I thought was a calling on my life. Then, everything changed.

In the middle of December 2011, I was helping a friend with CD sales at concerts for his holiday group of musician friends, called SimpleGifts. I was thrilled to be having so much fun meeting people, talking about the music that I love, and just being around really great people.

I love the group so much, I planned some time away from work to travel around the Twin Cities with them for a week before Christmas. We started that week with a concert at my home church and I invited family to see the show. My mom & kids enjoyed the show immensely that night - and then the kids went home with her to spend the night as they had so many times before. I went out with friends that night and then home to rest. The next morning would be the beginning of the end.

My mom was scheduled to call me at 6:30am as she did every morning for accountability of her diabetes control. She didn't call, and as I called her - my daughter answered the phone and said "Grandma isn't waking up." Those words weren't unfamiliar to me, as she had had episodes of low blood sugar before. I woke my husband to come with me, in case he needed to attend to the kids, and without a shower or so much as a toothbrush, we rushed out of the house and drove 15 minutes.  As my husband and I arrived at my mom's house, walked upstairs to see her still asleep, I checked her blood sugar. If it was low, I'd know what to do. Get her some juice, a little something to eat, and get her back up to normal for the day. When the glucose monitor registered a high number, my heart sank. I couldn't fix this. I called 9-1-1.

I called my brother to meet us at the hospital, and he and his wife and I sat outside the ER waiting for some idea of what was going on. CT scan had shown she had a cranial bleed.  It wasn't an aneurysm, instead a hemorrhagic stroke. Funny, she was taking one aspirin a day and medication to control cholesterol so that she wouldn't get a clot - and she instead had a bleed. This bleed was so significant that the neurosurgeon told us there was nothing he could do. So, we waited with hope that she would awake and we could talk to her and tell her what was going on. Something in my spirit feared that this was the beginning of the end. The next decisions we had to make as we moved from the ER to ICU and to a regular neuro floor in the hospital were extremely difficult, but my brother and I felt we were on the same page, because Mom often talked about her wishes in these types of circumstances. In fact, I helped her to craft a healthcare directive (living will) and she had it notarized just earlier in the year.

My takeaway from this part of my journey with my mom's illness...take the time to talk with your loved ones about the difficult decisions they might have to make on your behalf. My mom was prepared. I was prepared. And, my brother and I were able to make the life and death decisions for her that honored who she was and what she wanted. This is my vow for my family. In the next year, I will take the time to write out and have notarized a MN Healthcare Directive. I will share it with my medical clinic and doctor, and will more importantly share it with my loved ones. This is a gift I will give to them, and then schedule to revisit and update it every couple of years.

Health and Hunger

During Advent, I receive several spiritual meditations, and readings in my inbox. It's a way for me to be connected to the larger body of Christ in my daily life. This is a reading by Jackie Cameron, staff member at Credo, an Episcopal Church resource for clergy. I just found it to be especially helpful as I contemplate the very question in my journey here on this side of the planet.

"Pay attention!"  It's a major Advent theme, but it's also the key to the spiritual life, as well as to healthy relationships, wise financial stewardship, vocational discernment and, yes, even physical well-being. 

The control of appetite--that is, our sense of hunger and of fullness or satisfaction after eating--is an extremely complex system involving hormones, brain and nerve chemicals called neurotransmitters, the presence or absence of food in our stomach and intestines, emotions, visual cues, smells, memories, the people around us and many other things.  Even our fat cells have something to say in the complex internal conversation that leads to hunger.

This season, instead of berating yourself for not having more willpower ... or for failing to lose that 10 or 20 or 50-plus pounds or whatever else you haven't done, stop for a moment ... suspend the internal critic and instead ask, "What is it that I am really hungry for?"  And pay attention to the answers-because there will be many. 

One answer may well be, "I am hungry for the biggest piece of cheesecake on that platter."  But other answers may include, "I am hungry for companionship" or "I am hungry for reassurance that God is really there" or "I am hungry to know that I have something to offer" or even "I am just hungry for some fun ... or a chance to really laugh." 

So go ahead ... ask the question ... live with the question ... and pay attention to the answers.  Doing so will help set us all on a path to true fullness of life.  

What do you really want?

I was going to entitle this post "What are you hungry for?" but then realized a recent post was about hunger. Maybe there's a theme here, but in the deepest thoughts about famine and hunger, I come home tonight to another growling in my belly. An urge to nibble on a snack sends me to the fridge to look around.There's not much that I wanted in there, except a package of uncooked chocolate chip cookie dough and milk. I resisted, and went to the cupboard instead for some vanilla wafers and a cup of hot water.

As I picked up a few things off the floor, folded a couple of items of clothing, and then turned on the light and picked up a book - I was amazed by the selection of books that were on my nightstand. All four books that I've been grabbing snippets from for quite some time...but they have to do with my spiritual journey. Not just any journey, but one of listening and asking (praying) and of finding rhythms in spiritual practices of meditation, fasting, and rest.

And so tonight I picked up the first book, "Talking to God" by Naomi Levy. This book of common daily prayers for joy, sadness, struggle and celebration helps me to realize all the many people in my life - friends, family, strangers...who I have been praying for, but without the words that I wish I had. Here, I found prayers for my friend who just had a baby, for my friends who are caring for ill and aging parents, for parents who want to pray for their children, and with their children, and prayers for my own inability to pray.

My cup of water was boiling in the microwave, and so I grabbed it and sat down with another book. I picked up "Life of the Beloved" by Henri Nouwen - one of my favorite books of all. Tonight the subtitle "spiritual living in a secular world" struck me differently than I ever remember hearing it. So, I opened a section that I know I have read before. But this time, my prayers for listening ears, open eyes, and my soul wide open to listen to the whispers of God were answered. I read the prologue and it jumped out at me as if it was what God was and is trying to say to me! While closing an interview with a young journalist Nouwen writes:

"What do you really want?" I asked.
"I want to write a novel...but I'll never be able to do it."
"Is this something you really want?" I asked. He looked at me with surprise on his face and said with a smile, "Yes, it is,...but I'm also afraid because I've never written a novel, and maybe I don't have what it takes to be a novelist."
"How will you find out?" I asked.
"Well, I probably won't ever be able to find out. You need time, money, and most of all, talent, and I don't have any."
By now I had become angry at him, at society, and, to some degree, at myself for letting things just be as they are. I felt a strong urge to break down all these walls of fear, convention, social expectations and self-deprecation, and I blurted out,
"Why don't you quit your job and write your novel?"
"I can't," he said...I kept pushing him,"If you really want it, you can do it. You don't have to be the victim of time and money." At this point, I realized that I had become involved in a battle I was determined to win. He sensed my intensity and said, "Well, I'm just a simple journalist, and I guess I should be content with that."
"No, you shouldn't," I said. "You should claim your deepest desire and do what you really want to do...time and money aren't the real issue."
"What is?" he asked.
"You are," I answered. "You have nothing to lose. You are young, full of energy, well trained...Everything is possible for you...Why let the world squeeze you in?...Why become a victim? You are free to do what you want - if, that is, you really want it!"

That's when it hit me. "What do I want?" I've been so busy for so long, spending so much of my time praying for others, thinking about how to care for my family and others, that I have put aside asking for my own needs so long that I don't even know what I want anymore. Thinking about this, my heart leaped and tears began to well up in my eyes. Could it be possible that I don't even know what my dream is? I don't even know what I would want for myself and those around me.
"You should claim your deepest desire and do what you really want to do...time and money aren't the real issue."

So I asked myself out loud to God - "What do I want?" and, he said "That's what I've been asking you for some time now!" "You are following me around like a lost puppy, but I'm ready to lead you to a new calling, something I have been preparing you for. Stop shuffling around with your eyes on the ground and look up and out to what is in store. Look up to the possibilities of a new day!"
Our church has been in a season studying the book of Colossians - and the Message translation has exactly the words I needed tonight to realize the connection to what I'm experiencing.

I still am not sure what I want, but I'm going to pray and ask God to reveal to me what it is that is the deepest desires of my heart. If I believe that the desires of my heart have been planted there by God himself, if I know what they are, maybe then I can begin to wonder about what it would take to get me there, and what I would have to take off from my current self to put on the armor of Christ. I believe I am close to getting words around what I'm experiencing. Tonight's revelation for me sheds a little more light on this season of life. Stay tuned...and be sure to ask if you want to know more.

Too busy to breathe, but starting new stuff anyhow

My readers know that I usually post after I've had some strange Epiphany, or realization that something in my life is happening. Either it be subtle or dramatic, but I sense things are moving.

I have actually been working so much lately - and having to find time in the minor moments to just settle in, that I haven't had much time to think straight. I have worked long days, and have only had 2 full days off in the past 16. I am certainly looking for some time off soon - later this week. But tonight I find myself sitting at a table in the class, talking about the struggle of being human and what we're expecting from this class with a few folks from church. Tonight we begin a new day, a new chapter in our household...a day where my husband and I get on the same page in regards to our finances.  We decided last spring, that with some financial changes that are happening in our life - less daycare expenses because our son is in school full time, and less basic expenses because we're choosing to live more frugally, but on the verge of a job shift for him, and a change in needs of our children and our family...we are taking a class called Financial Peace University, by Dave Ramsey.

This class isn't because we're so deep in debt and we're looking for a life raft - although we've been there. It's because we have come from the depths of debt and are looking to stay on track with our new situation, and allow for some additional breathing room so that stress won't rear its ugly head when something "unexpected" happens to either of us, or both of us, financially.

I'm sure I'll blog more about the class as we progress through thirteen weeks of budgeting, saving, and wealth-building. In fact, we expect to complete the class just before Christmas. By the way - it was 83 degrees today in sunny Minnesota. I'm sure it won't be that on the last day of the class.

I came home from the class tonight pretty energized about why we (my husband and I) chose to take the class together. We left our children to care for each other, and my children were so very well behaved, theyeven put themselves to bed on time. :) I really felt good about our decision to step out and make this happen. But, in the hurry of the afternoon between work and the class, I had to make dinner for the family. Not a big deal, really, just some grilled ham & cheese sandwiches on sourdough bread - and some raw veggies. And, in the strangeness of the day - although my daughter said she wasn't hungry, she ate my sandwich - and as any loving mother would do - I let her have it, and scrounged for something else. No time - we had to get out the door and over to church for class - so I grabbed a Diet Coke and headed out the door.
Now, it's often in stressful times I realize how I can just get easily sidetracked and forget to take care of myself. I'm rushing around so much lately - that I can barely get from one thing to another without something in-between to distract me.

I am taking some time off this week - comp time - to take back some hours I've poured in. It'll be good to get back to finding some time for me and God. It's starting, I can feel it. See next post to read how I'm noticing God's movement for me tonight.

Hunger

The word hunger means many things to me. I hunger for knowledge, I grow hungry for a snack. To Webster it's a craving or urgent need for food or a specific nutrient; an uneasy sensation occasioned by the lack of food; a weakened condition brought about by the prolonged lack of food, or a strong or compelling desire or craving.
My kids tell me "Mom, I'm starving." and awkwardly stare into a refrigerator and pantry full of leftovers and odds and ends, and say "there's nothing to eat."
And then, I turn on the tv and see the devastation that hunger and famine can do to families across the globe. The crisis in the Horn of Africa and across the globe right now is something that is hitting me deeper and deeper each day.
As we pray "Give us this day our daily bread." I realize that  I've never had to really wonder where my next meal was going to come from. I didn't choose to be born into a culture of affluence, or that I'd get to experience grocery stores on a daily basis the way I do. Nor, did I choose to live in a country where clean water is taken for granted. But, I do, and that's where I find myself.

And so, what can we do? What should we do. Prayer and learning more about hunger is what I propose I can do right here right now. There is a crisis - something urgent and tangible. When small children are being left behind by their parents because they do not have enough energy or strength to make a long journey to where there is clean water and food, I can pray. When adults have completely lost any sense of who they are because they simply have no energy to move or share conversation or look at others, I can pray.
Lord, have mercy. Be with each of these children today, as your own precious ones whom you love. Give them daily manna and satisfy their cravings for food, but also for dignity, and for a sense of who You are to them as provider, and faithful shepherd. I am deep in prayer and will fast one meal each day to remind me of the minor hunger pangs - so that I may join in solidarity with these who are suffering today. Father God, have mercy. Show comfort and care to your African children. For they didn't choose these circumstances, any more than I did my own. Jesus, have mercy. Holy Spirit come. 
I will not easily forget that across the world other families, other mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters are literally starving - and without food or clean water. I will also not forget that disease and famine plague these whole countries. I must not forget. I must remember them tonight.




 

Fruit

Jesus said, 'A sound tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor a rotten tree good fruit.'

 ~ Matthew 7: 17-18

We must choose to listen to God's voice and every choice will open us a little more to discover the new life hidden in the moment, waiting eagerly to be born.

- Henri J. M. Nouwen

How often do we move forward without thinking about what God's will would be for our lives? What is that "new life hidden in the moment" that Nouwen talks about? I'm choosing today to slow down and listen more fully.

 

Text excerpts taken from The Only Necessary Thing, Henri J.M. Nouwen, ed. Wendy Wilson Greer (Crossroad 1999).