Happy Birthday, Connor Marley.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Mother Teresa of Calcutta
"Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin."
She had left the convent she had spent years praying and teaching in. Suffering from Tuberculosis, she was on a train to Darjeeling with the intent of recuperating and resting. It was on this train that she heard His voice, the voice of God. He ordered her to leave the convent for good, and live among the poor and work with them. And so in just several years time she had started with a school in the slums to teach the children of the poor. And in a couple more the "Home of the Dying" was started under her direction. This woman denied herself all luxuries and comforts in favor of tirelessly helping those in need.
"I once picked up a woman from a garbage dump and she was burning with fever; she was in her last days and her only lament was: ‘My son did this to me.’ I begged her: You must forgive your son. In a moment of madness, when he was not himself, he did a thing he regrets. Be a mother to him, forgive him. It took me a long time to make her say: ‘I forgive my son.’ Just before she died in my arms, she was able to say that with a real forgiveness. She was not concerned that she was dying. The breaking of the heart was that her son did not want her. This is something you and I can understand."
She lived by grace. This woman saw suffering every day. She saw injustices the world could never imagine. She held it in her hands. Forgiveness was the only way. "If we really want to love we must learn to forgive." Hers was a religion of love.
"There is only one God and He is God to all; therefore it is important that everyone is seen as equal before God. I’ve always said we should help a Hindu become a better Hindu, a Muslim become a better Muslim, a Catholic become a better Catholic. We believe our work should be our example to people. We have among us 475 souls - 30 families are Catholics and the rest are all Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs—all different religions. But they all come to our prayers."
"There are so many religions and each one has its different ways of following God. I follow Christ:
Jesus is my God,
Jesus is my Spouse,
Jesus is my Life,
Jesus is my only Love,
Jesus is my All in All;
Jesus is my Everything."
She never loved to convert. Her service to those in need was for no reason but to love them. There was no ulterior motive. Her work was in honor of God, she did not place that on anyone else, or claimed that their way of honoring God was wrong. Every being that she helped held the face of God, every soul she touched was the very soul of Jesus. She understood the need for love, the hunger to be reached out to. God commanded us to go forth and love others as He loves us. And she did just that, simply and honestly and without expectation.
Mother Teresa was an inspiration to the world and an example of how we are to love.
And during all of this, during her love of those who needed love, care for those who needed care, help for the sick and dying, her life as an example of the love of Jesus, Mother Teresa struggled. For shortly after she came to Calcutta to live among the poor, Mother Teresa suffered a feeling of abandonment from the Lord. When once she heard Him speaking to her clear as day, she now heard nothing.
Mother Teresa described this time as "the darkness". She had known Jesus as her light and her salvation. Yet, she now lived in the darkness. And she struggled with her faith. She feared she might be a hypocrite by telling the world about the love of Jesus, her love for Jesus, when she wasn't even sure if she still had faith in Jesus. She even asked God for forgiveness for her stumbling faith in her letters, adding as a byline "if there is a God".
This news came through letters that had been hidden from the world and that were recently made public. And it sent a shockwave through the world. Mother Teresa, the woman who gave such love in the name of Jesus Christ, was not exactly 100% sure of her faith. This made her....
Human.
What a relief! I'm human too. And so are countless other Christians, Hindus, Muslims, Jews....... I'm willing to bet that everyone of faith has lacked faith at least once in their walk, especially those who are active in their faith. How can we not? There are so many unanswered questions in faith, so much that we with our human minds could not possibly comprehend no matter how much we prayed, studied the bible, researched history..... It's only natural that our faith might take a tumble from time to time, and for some of us, never return.
And yet this crisis in faith is rarely talked about. And if it is, it is never talked about in first person but rather about an "outsider". No, a real Christian would never question God's existence. A real Christian would never wonder if Jesus really was the son of God, if he was merely a man that people believed was the son of God? A real Christian would never wonder if Mary had merely gotten herself into a bad situation and created a lie to save herself from a stoning. A real Christian would not have confusion over whose words she was actually reading in the bible: God's or man's?
Friends, if this is true, then I am not a real Christian.
You know what I find most admirable about Mother Teresa's crisis in faith? Even though Mother Teresa felt an absence from God, even though she was not entirely sure He was there, even though she wasn't sure who it was that ordered her to leave the convent and live among the poor, her life path never changed. She felt like a hypocrite, yet her love for mankind never faltered. She still gave of herself unconditionally, bringing light to those who were in their own darkness. And I can even believe that Mother Teresa, in her darkness, could better understand these lost souls that the world had given up on. I believe that God's distance from her served his purpose through her.
And I believe that when Mother Teresa moved onto the next world, God revealed Himself to her after all those years of absence, and welcomed his obedient daughter home.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Determination
Today I had a disappointing meeting where I was seeking help with the cost of daycare so that I can work and be able to afford to continue living on my own. Apparently I make too much. Imagine that. It's almost laughable that my income, which is significantly lower than my expenses now that the kids are in daycare, is considered TOO MUCH. I drove him feeling a lot more like lead than the hopeful airiness I carried with me just that morning.
Upon entering the freeway, I was forced to merge between two large tanker trucks. It always makes me nervous to drive near these trucks because they are so big, and my car is so small. Should one of them not see me, they could crush me and probably never feel it.
Of course, our freeway is the kind that moves mostly at a crawl all day long. Today was no exception. I was only about five miles away from my exit, but I could tell it was going to be forever before I reached it, as my lane seemed to be moving to the tune of 35 MPH. I could see from my rearview mirror that cars were moving around the tanker behind me, and the fast lane was moving at a significantly faster pace than the lane I was in. If I timed things right, I could probably squeeze into this faster lane and get to my destination a lot faster. But it looked too hard, as these cars were moving a lot faster, and I was surrounded by these two big trucks moving incredibly slow. I would really have to get up to speed fast to be able to match the fast lane. And besides, I knew that if I did manage to pass the tanker in front of me, I would have a heck of a time trying to merge back in since inevitably there were tons of cars in front of it slowing it down.
The opportunity finally presented itself. A Fed Ex truck was slowing down traffic in the fast lane. When the car before it passed me, I made a last minute decision and whipped into the fast lane. Once the truck was not in front of me blocking my view of the road ahead, it was apparent that my assumptions had been wrong. No cars were in front of it, and the lane was pretty much empty. I merged back in to that lane and enjoyed the smooth ride home.
Life is like that. I have my own huge truck in front of me right now. It's called the expenses of being a single mother with a single income who makes too little money to handle all her expenses, and too much money to qualify for financial help. My big truck behind me is working at a job that I love that works me to the bone, pays pretty decently, but will not give me the full time hours I so desperately need, and still haunts me with the dangers of the layoff season underfoot. This truck in front of me is blocking my view of the road ahead, taking away my hope of ever reaching the place I want to end up (which at this point is anywhere on the other side of this truck). The truck behind me is allowing me only to see the other vehicles passing me by while I remain in the slow lane. And the fast lane next to me is making me afraid merge in, for surely I will mess up and crash.
I cannot see the smooth road ahead. It's almost like I refuse to. There are easier jobs out there with the hours and pay I need that will allow me to afford life. Merging in with the rest of those succeeding at life is not an impossible feat. I have just allowed these huge tankers to block my view and allow me to believe that I can't do it.
Well guess what? I can.
Upon entering the freeway, I was forced to merge between two large tanker trucks. It always makes me nervous to drive near these trucks because they are so big, and my car is so small. Should one of them not see me, they could crush me and probably never feel it.
Of course, our freeway is the kind that moves mostly at a crawl all day long. Today was no exception. I was only about five miles away from my exit, but I could tell it was going to be forever before I reached it, as my lane seemed to be moving to the tune of 35 MPH. I could see from my rearview mirror that cars were moving around the tanker behind me, and the fast lane was moving at a significantly faster pace than the lane I was in. If I timed things right, I could probably squeeze into this faster lane and get to my destination a lot faster. But it looked too hard, as these cars were moving a lot faster, and I was surrounded by these two big trucks moving incredibly slow. I would really have to get up to speed fast to be able to match the fast lane. And besides, I knew that if I did manage to pass the tanker in front of me, I would have a heck of a time trying to merge back in since inevitably there were tons of cars in front of it slowing it down.
The opportunity finally presented itself. A Fed Ex truck was slowing down traffic in the fast lane. When the car before it passed me, I made a last minute decision and whipped into the fast lane. Once the truck was not in front of me blocking my view of the road ahead, it was apparent that my assumptions had been wrong. No cars were in front of it, and the lane was pretty much empty. I merged back in to that lane and enjoyed the smooth ride home.
Life is like that. I have my own huge truck in front of me right now. It's called the expenses of being a single mother with a single income who makes too little money to handle all her expenses, and too much money to qualify for financial help. My big truck behind me is working at a job that I love that works me to the bone, pays pretty decently, but will not give me the full time hours I so desperately need, and still haunts me with the dangers of the layoff season underfoot. This truck in front of me is blocking my view of the road ahead, taking away my hope of ever reaching the place I want to end up (which at this point is anywhere on the other side of this truck). The truck behind me is allowing me only to see the other vehicles passing me by while I remain in the slow lane. And the fast lane next to me is making me afraid merge in, for surely I will mess up and crash.
I cannot see the smooth road ahead. It's almost like I refuse to. There are easier jobs out there with the hours and pay I need that will allow me to afford life. Merging in with the rest of those succeeding at life is not an impossible feat. I have just allowed these huge tankers to block my view and allow me to believe that I can't do it.
Well guess what? I can.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Be silent. Be still.
Life is hard. With all these different ways to connect: the internet, the phone at my hip, email, noisy coffee shops, work day in and day out....and yet loneliness tends to be the biggest feeling. And then there's this place of being in between romantic relationships. What I should be doing. What I should be wearing. Who I wish I'd be. Where I really should be on a Saturday night. What size clothes I should be wearing. Where I should be at 29. Never being enough. Noise. Constant noise. The world is just too noisy sometimes...... And yet....
I get scared of the silence.
In the silence, we're never truly alone. Perhaps in the silence we can find we really are loved, and we really are great, and we really are created perfect....in the image of God.
I get scared of the silence.
In the silence, we're never truly alone. Perhaps in the silence we can find we really are loved, and we really are great, and we really are created perfect....in the image of God.
Monday, May 07, 2007
What I Forgot
I was unhappy.
My life had little to it.
I thought, 'Maybe I just need a change.'
So I lost a little weight,
and I allowed my skin to color.
And I got a little attention.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I bought some new outfits,
and I always did my hair,
and my make-up was always perfect,
and my lips always in a smile.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I saved all my money,
and used it only for necessities,
and I watched my savings grow.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I got a new apartment,
what I thought was the answer,
and I'll move in a couple weeks.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I got healthier,
and Pilates became daily,
and my cigarettes nonexistant,
and my food so much more wholesome.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I longed for a connection,
someone to ease my lonliness,
and I hoped that I'd be noticed,
and that this would distract me.
But nobody saw me.
And they looked right through me.
And my loneliness doubled.
And I felt more lost than ever.
And something is missing.
And that something....is You.
All my answers have been about me.
And I've forgotten my neighbor
and I've forgotten how to pray
and I've forgotten that you are listening
and I've forgotten that you have a plan
and I've forgotten how to let you be my center
and I've forgotten that YOU are the answer
and I've forgotten.....
I've forgotten.....
I've forgotten.....
Oh God, I've just forgotten.....
.....please remind me.
My life had little to it.
I thought, 'Maybe I just need a change.'
So I lost a little weight,
and I allowed my skin to color.
And I got a little attention.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I bought some new outfits,
and I always did my hair,
and my make-up was always perfect,
and my lips always in a smile.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I saved all my money,
and used it only for necessities,
and I watched my savings grow.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I got a new apartment,
what I thought was the answer,
and I'll move in a couple weeks.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I got healthier,
and Pilates became daily,
and my cigarettes nonexistant,
and my food so much more wholesome.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.
So I longed for a connection,
someone to ease my lonliness,
and I hoped that I'd be noticed,
and that this would distract me.
But nobody saw me.
And they looked right through me.
And my loneliness doubled.
And I felt more lost than ever.
And something is missing.
And that something....is You.
All my answers have been about me.
And I've forgotten my neighbor
and I've forgotten how to pray
and I've forgotten that you are listening
and I've forgotten that you have a plan
and I've forgotten how to let you be my center
and I've forgotten that YOU are the answer
and I've forgotten.....
I've forgotten.....
I've forgotten.....
Oh God, I've just forgotten.....
.....please remind me.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Brother Against Brother
"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5
"Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!" Romans 11:33
The biggest problem in the Christian community is the need to argue amongst ourselves about what is right and what is wrong when it comes to belief. Arguments like these are very dangerous, as mini wars amongst ourselves and our brothers and sisters evolve. Churches are splitting up. Christians are verbally attacking other Christians over difference in views of God, ways of attaining understanding, the ranking level of values, and what is true in biblical history. Believers walk away from their faith as the very foundation of Christianity becomes uprooted. The most important issue becomes HOW to believe and not just simply being God's children and the salt and light of the world. How are we to be an inspiration to those around us when the politics of the religion become bigger than God Himself?
There are many different churches that call themselves Christian. There's the Presbyterians, the Catholics, the Protestants, the Baptists, the Lutherans, the Quakers, the Mormons, the Evangelicals.... Each church is completely different, and their belief system and preachings are ranked in drastically different orders of importance. One may view sin as the most important area to preach on. Another may view love as the most important. Still another may focus on sitting in silence so that the Holy Spirit may move through them. And another may view history of where the religion came from most important of all. Some may believe that the Bible is literal, word for word. Another may view the Bible is half literal and half metaphorical. And still another may view the whole Bible as open for interpretation. And if you step into the different souls that attend these churches, the beliefs and values vary in a dizzying array.
When it all comes down to it, they are all trying to reach God, and believe their way to be the way to get there. And if it's really thought about, is there anything wrong with trying to reach God? Does it really matter if one person takes the bible literally, and another takes it metaphorically? Will God really deny those who do not interpret the Bible exactly "right" the Kingdom of Heaven? If that were the case, I think ALL of us would be in trouble, for who can really wrap their whole mind around God, understanding the ins and outs of it all?
As my own person, I know what works for me and what doesn't in my journey to God. What I find stifling to my relationship to God is another person's inspiration to God. And vice versa. What I find absolutely exhilarating in discovering more about God others may absolutely abhor. But when Christians battle other Christians for not believing exactly the same way, the whole purpose of being God's children becomes lost in the battle. We are brothers and sisters under the same Father, and yet we are arguing over who deserves the bigger inheritance for being more faithful.
What if God just loves all of us, marvelling at our vast differences, appreciating all our journeys as we strive to reach Him? What if the most important thing to God was that we were trying to reach Him in our best way possible and in the best way we could understand, and not HOW we were getting there? What if we were the only ones who were really responsible for our own journey, and no one could do it for us?
What if we were all simply God's creation, all created separately with different views and beliefs and values and attributes, but all equal in His eyes nonetheless, and all our souls created in His image?
Psalm 133
A song of ascents. Of David.
How good and pleasant it is
when brothers live together in unity!
It is like precious oil poured on the head,
running down on the beard,
running down on Aaron's beard,
down upon the collar of his robes.
It is as if the dew of Hermon
were falling on Mount Zion.
For there the LORD bestows his blessing,
even life forevermore.
"Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!" Romans 11:33
The biggest problem in the Christian community is the need to argue amongst ourselves about what is right and what is wrong when it comes to belief. Arguments like these are very dangerous, as mini wars amongst ourselves and our brothers and sisters evolve. Churches are splitting up. Christians are verbally attacking other Christians over difference in views of God, ways of attaining understanding, the ranking level of values, and what is true in biblical history. Believers walk away from their faith as the very foundation of Christianity becomes uprooted. The most important issue becomes HOW to believe and not just simply being God's children and the salt and light of the world. How are we to be an inspiration to those around us when the politics of the religion become bigger than God Himself?
There are many different churches that call themselves Christian. There's the Presbyterians, the Catholics, the Protestants, the Baptists, the Lutherans, the Quakers, the Mormons, the Evangelicals.... Each church is completely different, and their belief system and preachings are ranked in drastically different orders of importance. One may view sin as the most important area to preach on. Another may view love as the most important. Still another may focus on sitting in silence so that the Holy Spirit may move through them. And another may view history of where the religion came from most important of all. Some may believe that the Bible is literal, word for word. Another may view the Bible is half literal and half metaphorical. And still another may view the whole Bible as open for interpretation. And if you step into the different souls that attend these churches, the beliefs and values vary in a dizzying array.
When it all comes down to it, they are all trying to reach God, and believe their way to be the way to get there. And if it's really thought about, is there anything wrong with trying to reach God? Does it really matter if one person takes the bible literally, and another takes it metaphorically? Will God really deny those who do not interpret the Bible exactly "right" the Kingdom of Heaven? If that were the case, I think ALL of us would be in trouble, for who can really wrap their whole mind around God, understanding the ins and outs of it all?
As my own person, I know what works for me and what doesn't in my journey to God. What I find stifling to my relationship to God is another person's inspiration to God. And vice versa. What I find absolutely exhilarating in discovering more about God others may absolutely abhor. But when Christians battle other Christians for not believing exactly the same way, the whole purpose of being God's children becomes lost in the battle. We are brothers and sisters under the same Father, and yet we are arguing over who deserves the bigger inheritance for being more faithful.
What if God just loves all of us, marvelling at our vast differences, appreciating all our journeys as we strive to reach Him? What if the most important thing to God was that we were trying to reach Him in our best way possible and in the best way we could understand, and not HOW we were getting there? What if we were the only ones who were really responsible for our own journey, and no one could do it for us?
What if we were all simply God's creation, all created separately with different views and beliefs and values and attributes, but all equal in His eyes nonetheless, and all our souls created in His image?
A song of ascents. Of David.
How good and pleasant it is
when brothers live together in unity!
It is like precious oil poured on the head,
running down on the beard,
running down on Aaron's beard,
down upon the collar of his robes.
It is as if the dew of Hermon
were falling on Mount Zion.
For there the LORD bestows his blessing,
even life forevermore.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Connection
We all long to be connected. Some how, some way. It's why the Internet exists. It's why my son acts goofy to make people laugh. It's why we smile at those who walk by us, or look out our windows when someone drives by our house. It's why we check our non-ringing phones, search the bills in the mail for that non-existent personal letter, look out for a car that never drives up our driveway. It's why I am here writing, hoping in this small part of the world, someone is taking the time to read the words I am writing. It is why I keep interrupting my cleaning of the mess that surrounds me, for cleaning is not a way to be connected. It's pretty solitary.
Today I connected with a bug. Yes, that's right. A bug. They aren't hard to ignore this time of year. I was laying on my lawn, soaking in the last bits of sunshine on a lukewarm day. I had just finished reading 4 chapters of a great book so I am caught up for homegroup tomorrow. And when I finished, I wasn't ready to leave my sunsoaked spot. So I laid the book down and rested my head on my arms. And I watched the grass. And in that grass, I noticed a green bug going leaf to leaf. And in those few minutes, I watched this bug do more work than I had done all day. He went to a leaf, painstakingly feeling his way around and allowing his small spiny legs to maneuver himself precariously. And then he would pause, and then drink in any moisture from this leaf through this small tube of a mouth. And when he was done, he would repeat the whole process.
In that moment, I was no bigger than that bug. And I saw the small blades of grass as the giant forest he was traveling. In that moment, I was connected to that bug. And it's funny, because as small as that bug was, I noticed him. But as large as I was, he never noticed me.
Sometimes things are so large we just can't see them.
The connection is out there. It does exist. And it's become so easy to look at the things just at our level as huge, and miss the things that are right there in front of us because we miss the details. Sometimes it's because they appear too small. Most of the time it's because they are too large. We are those insects in the forest of grass, focusing too much on our own details, seeing them as so large that we miss the bigger picture. We feel pain and regret, longing and sadness, want overcoming need, desire for that bigger pasture. And we miss the things we have, the God that is faithful, the kids who look up to us, the parents who care for us, the friends who are always a phonecall away. We miss all that for the things and people we lost along the way who are not giving us what we want. We miss all the things that are there to fulfill us for the lament over the things that fail us. And then we are so focused on our own misery that we miss out on the other people who need and depend on us, those that could really use our care and support while we lament over the care and support we aren't receiving from sources that won't freely give us that.
We disconnect.
And it's so easy to do, and so hard to get away from. There's always a need for more than what we have, missing what we've lost, taking for granted all that still remains, and always will.
And in that came the full circle of my connection to that bug. For he was working for what he needed, and not taking more, or even lamenting over, what he didn't have. It was all that simple. It's so simple, it's huge. And it's so huge, I am still having a hard time seeing it.
A Long Night at the ER
It's funny the things that go through your mind when you are sitting in an emergency room once the crisis is over. I think that's when instinct ends, and reality hits. For as the parent in charge, it never occurred to me the seriousness of the situation, and mom mode just took over. Calm. Cool. Collected. Everything's fine, just be calm....for her. Hold her hair back while she vomits, rub her back as she cries, smooth her hair as she panics. Be the one in charge as she looks at you with big, scared eyes.
I spent many hours of last night in the emergency room with my daughter. And it was only when she was sleeping in the hospital bed and I was left alone with my thoughts that I was finally able to get off my heightened sense of mom mode and sink into my chair over all that could have gone wrong.
Sunday night is bath night in our house. Time to get ready for the beginning of the school week. Summer was in the shower, I was folding freshly laundered towels, Lucas was playing with his millions of Legos, Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and new pictures of Sonic the Hedgehog I had just printed out for him off the Internet. America's Funniest Home Videos was on the TV, mostly for background noise, as both of us were too busy to watch. And as Lucas was talking to me about something or other, I heard a loud bang from the bathroom. I hushed Lucas and listened. And then I heard the unmistakable cry from my daughter.
There are many different sounds of crying that come from your child. There's the one when they're heartbroken. There's the one when they're angry. There's the one when life is unfair, and they can't have their way. There's the one when their younger brother is just too much to handle. And then there was the one that came from the bathroom. Scared.
I ran into the bathroom and whipped open the shower door. There stood my daughter, blood on her wrist, a panicked look in her eyes. I didn't even take a moment to be scared with her. I asked her what happened and she told me she had fallen and hit her head. A quick check to her head revealed an extremely large lump in the back. The blood ended up being a small cut on her wrist, nothing serious. But the lump was huge. I gently moved her back under the running water and finished washing her hair with as much care as I could not to irritate the growing lump. I then dried her off with a towel still warm from the dryer, and wrapped her up in her robe. She was crying the whole time, her body red from where the shower had beat her up.
It was supposed to be bed time, but I told her she was staying up with me. I made tea for all three of us and we sat to watch a Disney movie. In between crying from her aching head, she complained of not being able to see out of one of her eyes. I mentally took note, but to her I just told her she would be ok and to just not mess with it. She leaned into me on the couch, only drinking her tea to get down the pain medication I supplied her with. After 45 minutes, I determined that it was bedtime, and she would be ok. I figured I would check on her every couple hours, but her apparent exhaustion was needing to be relieved by some sleep. Of course, sleep petrified her. I could hear her crying in the bedroom, and I kept the TV low so I could run to her if she started to throw up.
Somehow I knew that this would be the order of things. Or maybe because this wasn't the first time she had hit her head so hard that a concussion was suspected.
Sure enough, I heard her cry again, and I was already running for a pan when she called out that she thought she might be sick. I held her hair back as she vomited repeatedly in the bowl. Yup, it was time for the emergency room.
My parents came home from their day out at about the same time I had made this assessment. I had just gotten her dressed into some warmer clothes. Lucas was already asleep in bed, oblivious to the bright bedroom light or the panic in his sister. I took turns in getting everything together for the hospital, and holding back her hair and rubbing her back as she threw up. I left Lucas with my parents and drove cautiously to the hospital as she continued throwing up.
The emergency room can be a nervewracking place to be at night. Well, really at any time. My mind was still not focused on the seriousness of the situation, but wandered to what we might encounter. Many years ago, when I had driven myself to the emergency room right before I had found out that my third baby had died inside me, I had been in the same state. I never focused on me. Rather, I saw the seriousness of those around me. One in particular was a mother calmly holding her child who lay still in her arms, apparently unable to wake up. That scared me. And as I entered the ER with my own daughter, I wondered what sort of horrors I would see. This time, with my daughter weakly leaning against me, I saw a shaking young teenager holding a bloody towel to his head, blood spattered all over his pants. And several Spanish families sat in the waiting room chairs. One Spanish man smiled sympathetically at my daughter and me, and offered us the chairs next to him. I gingerly sat down, Summer leaned up against me. I put my hand on her leg and gently pet her, hoping that the bloody boy didn't frighten her too much.
Eventually I was at the window filling out the paperwork. Halfway through, Summer began to throw up again. By this time, there was nothing left in her stomach, and I felt for her as I saw her painfully lurching forward. I left the lady at the counter and sat with her, encouraging her as she continued to gag. The seriousness of it caught the personnel's eye, and they whisked us right away to a room all too familiar to our accident prone family.
Of course, the ER is never a quick process. We spent about an hour in this waiting room getting her stats taken. They had trouble taking her blood pressure, and the poor girl had to go through repeated attempts of squeezing her arm right off from a faulty blood pressure cuff. Her temperature was rather low and her body trembled from the shock kicking in. They wrapped her in warm blankets and gave her a teddy bear that she hug tightly as if she were 5 and not 9. Finally, they gave her some medicine to help ease the urge to vomit, though she still lurched repeatedly with every movement she was forced to make.
Even more time taken, we finally got her over to get a CT Scan. She heaved a couple more times before we could place her on the bed, and I was made to stand outside while she had her brain scanned. The first time we ever did this, the man had allowed me to remain in the room, monitoring her from a glass room that viewed where she was at. This time, a lady was at the controls, and I was placed outside the room with no view but a heavy wood door.
I think this is when I first started to get out of mom mode and into the reality of, "what if things went wrong?"
My fears turned to my daughter, how she would feel alone in that room without her mom. Would she want to vomit again? Was she safe without me watching her? What if the CT scan revealed something awful? I think that last thought crept into my head for the first time at that point, never having entered my head before since the time shen I heard the bang in the bathroom. Suddenly I realized that she really could have a concussion, and what did that mean if she did? And worse, a thought that never occurred to me until now, what if she had cracked her skull on that hard tile?
Her CT scan was done, and I rushed back to her side. She still was nauseous, and throughout the wait for a transporter to bring us back to her room, she vomited several more times. We then spent the next several hours in the recovery room. I turned out the lights and gently prompted her to sleep, which really didn't need much prompting. I then sat back in a rocking chair in the room and rocked.
And this is when the mind starts to wander. We had already been there for an hour and a half. It was just after midnight. We would be there for several more hours. Idared not leave the room to be able to call my folks about the process. I didn't want to leave her. Besides, a security guard sat outside monitoring an inmate, or some kid on house arrest, and I didn't trust the situation at all. Thoughts of what ifs and oh my god filled my mind. Thoughts that pertained to the situation at hand, and what if that crazy guy across the hall snapped?
I also had plenty of time to think about my life at hand. For once there was no distractions from people, electronics, cell phones, computers. There was just me. And while that was terrifying, it was also necessary. And I wryly smiled as I realized that God had granted me a recent prayer of mine in his own way.
The one thought that stuck with me was the miracle of hospitals. Here was this place that many different people came to when they were in trouble. These nurses and doctors knew the many different ways to treat these people. If I were to put it in crude terms, it was like an auto shop, each person coming in for repairs. But it was so much more complex than that. Here were people that were not made by people, but created by God. But these doctors and nurses had become so skilled at assessing the different ways to fix the ails of people, and this was apparent by each different need I saw addressed by person after person wheeled by the door to our room. One lady was whisked by with an IV in her arm. The bleeding boy was rolled to his own CT scan. Doctors and nurses remained calm and humorous with each other in between being serious and dedicated to those who needed them. I thought about what it must have been like hundreds of years before, versus the knowledge we have now about the human body.
And still, I was reminded of the connection we all share as mankind, and the opportunities we have to strengthen that connection as these doctors and nurses were doing by aiding those that needed them.
It was almost 3 am before I got the word on how Summer was doing. The CT scan turned out negative for any damage to her brain or skull. The only concern was the hematoma, that could just be reduced by icing it. The doctor checked her reflexes, I filled out more paperwork, and we were finally on our way. I drove slow to avoid hitting the many daredevil deer, raccoons, and rabbits on the way, still narrowly missing a rabbit who jumped in the way. Summer was wide awake, and we chatted about her hard day, a day that didn't start with the fall (but that's a whole other story). I tucked her into bed, and finally collapsed myself, only to get up 3 1/2 hours later to get my son off to school.
This wasn't our first trip to the emergency room. I'm willing to bet it won't be our last. Summer's fine, her head aches a little, she won't eat yet, but she's up and watching a movie after sleeping in briefly. I think I'm headed for a nap myself after a long night.
I spent many hours of last night in the emergency room with my daughter. And it was only when she was sleeping in the hospital bed and I was left alone with my thoughts that I was finally able to get off my heightened sense of mom mode and sink into my chair over all that could have gone wrong.
Sunday night is bath night in our house. Time to get ready for the beginning of the school week. Summer was in the shower, I was folding freshly laundered towels, Lucas was playing with his millions of Legos, Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and new pictures of Sonic the Hedgehog I had just printed out for him off the Internet. America's Funniest Home Videos was on the TV, mostly for background noise, as both of us were too busy to watch. And as Lucas was talking to me about something or other, I heard a loud bang from the bathroom. I hushed Lucas and listened. And then I heard the unmistakable cry from my daughter.
There are many different sounds of crying that come from your child. There's the one when they're heartbroken. There's the one when they're angry. There's the one when life is unfair, and they can't have their way. There's the one when their younger brother is just too much to handle. And then there was the one that came from the bathroom. Scared.
I ran into the bathroom and whipped open the shower door. There stood my daughter, blood on her wrist, a panicked look in her eyes. I didn't even take a moment to be scared with her. I asked her what happened and she told me she had fallen and hit her head. A quick check to her head revealed an extremely large lump in the back. The blood ended up being a small cut on her wrist, nothing serious. But the lump was huge. I gently moved her back under the running water and finished washing her hair with as much care as I could not to irritate the growing lump. I then dried her off with a towel still warm from the dryer, and wrapped her up in her robe. She was crying the whole time, her body red from where the shower had beat her up.
It was supposed to be bed time, but I told her she was staying up with me. I made tea for all three of us and we sat to watch a Disney movie. In between crying from her aching head, she complained of not being able to see out of one of her eyes. I mentally took note, but to her I just told her she would be ok and to just not mess with it. She leaned into me on the couch, only drinking her tea to get down the pain medication I supplied her with. After 45 minutes, I determined that it was bedtime, and she would be ok. I figured I would check on her every couple hours, but her apparent exhaustion was needing to be relieved by some sleep. Of course, sleep petrified her. I could hear her crying in the bedroom, and I kept the TV low so I could run to her if she started to throw up.
Somehow I knew that this would be the order of things. Or maybe because this wasn't the first time she had hit her head so hard that a concussion was suspected.
Sure enough, I heard her cry again, and I was already running for a pan when she called out that she thought she might be sick. I held her hair back as she vomited repeatedly in the bowl. Yup, it was time for the emergency room.
My parents came home from their day out at about the same time I had made this assessment. I had just gotten her dressed into some warmer clothes. Lucas was already asleep in bed, oblivious to the bright bedroom light or the panic in his sister. I took turns in getting everything together for the hospital, and holding back her hair and rubbing her back as she threw up. I left Lucas with my parents and drove cautiously to the hospital as she continued throwing up.
The emergency room can be a nervewracking place to be at night. Well, really at any time. My mind was still not focused on the seriousness of the situation, but wandered to what we might encounter. Many years ago, when I had driven myself to the emergency room right before I had found out that my third baby had died inside me, I had been in the same state. I never focused on me. Rather, I saw the seriousness of those around me. One in particular was a mother calmly holding her child who lay still in her arms, apparently unable to wake up. That scared me. And as I entered the ER with my own daughter, I wondered what sort of horrors I would see. This time, with my daughter weakly leaning against me, I saw a shaking young teenager holding a bloody towel to his head, blood spattered all over his pants. And several Spanish families sat in the waiting room chairs. One Spanish man smiled sympathetically at my daughter and me, and offered us the chairs next to him. I gingerly sat down, Summer leaned up against me. I put my hand on her leg and gently pet her, hoping that the bloody boy didn't frighten her too much.
Eventually I was at the window filling out the paperwork. Halfway through, Summer began to throw up again. By this time, there was nothing left in her stomach, and I felt for her as I saw her painfully lurching forward. I left the lady at the counter and sat with her, encouraging her as she continued to gag. The seriousness of it caught the personnel's eye, and they whisked us right away to a room all too familiar to our accident prone family.
Of course, the ER is never a quick process. We spent about an hour in this waiting room getting her stats taken. They had trouble taking her blood pressure, and the poor girl had to go through repeated attempts of squeezing her arm right off from a faulty blood pressure cuff. Her temperature was rather low and her body trembled from the shock kicking in. They wrapped her in warm blankets and gave her a teddy bear that she hug tightly as if she were 5 and not 9. Finally, they gave her some medicine to help ease the urge to vomit, though she still lurched repeatedly with every movement she was forced to make.
Even more time taken, we finally got her over to get a CT Scan. She heaved a couple more times before we could place her on the bed, and I was made to stand outside while she had her brain scanned. The first time we ever did this, the man had allowed me to remain in the room, monitoring her from a glass room that viewed where she was at. This time, a lady was at the controls, and I was placed outside the room with no view but a heavy wood door.
I think this is when I first started to get out of mom mode and into the reality of, "what if things went wrong?"
My fears turned to my daughter, how she would feel alone in that room without her mom. Would she want to vomit again? Was she safe without me watching her? What if the CT scan revealed something awful? I think that last thought crept into my head for the first time at that point, never having entered my head before since the time shen I heard the bang in the bathroom. Suddenly I realized that she really could have a concussion, and what did that mean if she did? And worse, a thought that never occurred to me until now, what if she had cracked her skull on that hard tile?
Her CT scan was done, and I rushed back to her side. She still was nauseous, and throughout the wait for a transporter to bring us back to her room, she vomited several more times. We then spent the next several hours in the recovery room. I turned out the lights and gently prompted her to sleep, which really didn't need much prompting. I then sat back in a rocking chair in the room and rocked.
And this is when the mind starts to wander. We had already been there for an hour and a half. It was just after midnight. We would be there for several more hours. Idared not leave the room to be able to call my folks about the process. I didn't want to leave her. Besides, a security guard sat outside monitoring an inmate, or some kid on house arrest, and I didn't trust the situation at all. Thoughts of what ifs and oh my god filled my mind. Thoughts that pertained to the situation at hand, and what if that crazy guy across the hall snapped?
I also had plenty of time to think about my life at hand. For once there was no distractions from people, electronics, cell phones, computers. There was just me. And while that was terrifying, it was also necessary. And I wryly smiled as I realized that God had granted me a recent prayer of mine in his own way.
The one thought that stuck with me was the miracle of hospitals. Here was this place that many different people came to when they were in trouble. These nurses and doctors knew the many different ways to treat these people. If I were to put it in crude terms, it was like an auto shop, each person coming in for repairs. But it was so much more complex than that. Here were people that were not made by people, but created by God. But these doctors and nurses had become so skilled at assessing the different ways to fix the ails of people, and this was apparent by each different need I saw addressed by person after person wheeled by the door to our room. One lady was whisked by with an IV in her arm. The bleeding boy was rolled to his own CT scan. Doctors and nurses remained calm and humorous with each other in between being serious and dedicated to those who needed them. I thought about what it must have been like hundreds of years before, versus the knowledge we have now about the human body.
And still, I was reminded of the connection we all share as mankind, and the opportunities we have to strengthen that connection as these doctors and nurses were doing by aiding those that needed them.
It was almost 3 am before I got the word on how Summer was doing. The CT scan turned out negative for any damage to her brain or skull. The only concern was the hematoma, that could just be reduced by icing it. The doctor checked her reflexes, I filled out more paperwork, and we were finally on our way. I drove slow to avoid hitting the many daredevil deer, raccoons, and rabbits on the way, still narrowly missing a rabbit who jumped in the way. Summer was wide awake, and we chatted about her hard day, a day that didn't start with the fall (but that's a whole other story). I tucked her into bed, and finally collapsed myself, only to get up 3 1/2 hours later to get my son off to school.
This wasn't our first trip to the emergency room. I'm willing to bet it won't be our last. Summer's fine, her head aches a little, she won't eat yet, but she's up and watching a movie after sleeping in briefly. I think I'm headed for a nap myself after a long night.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Beach Day
Today we left the sunshine of our town and went to the fog covered beach. Regardless of the cold, it was a ton of fun. My daughter spent the day with one of her bast friends, and we all had a blast. I even got the stunt kite up with the great wind that was blowing there. Here are some pictures from our day....
Monday, March 26, 2007
Hope
I actually forgot
what yesterday was
until last night
when I was covered in fog.
And it brought me back
to how things change,
how prayers are answered
in unexpected ways.
And I remembered thinking
that life would never be the same,
and I was right
in more ways than one.
And I remember the fear
that I felt of the past
and the events that led
to new fears of my present
and eventually led
to the fall of the future.
Or so I thought.
Truth is,
things happen for a reason.
And the person of yesterday
is much younger
than the person of today.
And I find that I'm calmer
in the hopes for my future,
understanding
that I am a part of something
bigger than just me.
And though I am unsure
at times
of where I am going
I know I am not going down.
And I am standing here
one year later
with hope in my soul
and gratefulness in my spirit
and love in my heart
and serenity in my mind.
And I know,
I just know,
that everything is going to be fine.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Yeshua
Breathe in.
I feel the breath.
I hear it.
Breathe out.
Relief.
Every sound, it is one in my ears.
But it is many different things
making each sound.
The chirping of the crickets.
The frogs in the distance.
The roar of the cars on the highway.
Many different sounds,
one in my ear.
The things I see,
they are all combined in my eye.
The stars overhead.
The perfect lines of the clouds
drifting on an invisible wind.
The way the hills seem to be outlined
by an unreal glow that dips with each dip,
and rises with each rise.
The plane that flies overhead,
narrowly missing another plane on a different course
several miles away from each other,
but in the same spot in my sight.
All seperate things,
all unaware of the other,
but all one sight in my eyes.
The two become one.
The many become few.
All is seperate,
yet all is the same.
And when I breathe in,
I feel you.
For you are in it all.
When I breathe out,
you are there in my breath.
I don't need to see you,
not like I see the things of this world.
For you are in the world,
you are of the world,
you are the world.
And you are more.
To expect to see you
standing before me
would be to deny that you already are,
just not as my human mind perceives.
You are in it all.
And I am just one that make up many
that makes up one.
I am a part of you.
I feel the breath.
I hear it.
Breathe out.
Relief.
Every sound, it is one in my ears.
But it is many different things
making each sound.
The chirping of the crickets.
The frogs in the distance.
The roar of the cars on the highway.
Many different sounds,
one in my ear.
The things I see,
they are all combined in my eye.
The stars overhead.
The perfect lines of the clouds
drifting on an invisible wind.
The way the hills seem to be outlined
by an unreal glow that dips with each dip,
and rises with each rise.
The plane that flies overhead,
narrowly missing another plane on a different course
several miles away from each other,
but in the same spot in my sight.
All seperate things,
all unaware of the other,
but all one sight in my eyes.
The two become one.
The many become few.
All is seperate,
yet all is the same.
And when I breathe in,
I feel you.
For you are in it all.
When I breathe out,
you are there in my breath.
I don't need to see you,
not like I see the things of this world.
For you are in the world,
you are of the world,
you are the world.
And you are more.
To expect to see you
standing before me
would be to deny that you already are,
just not as my human mind perceives.
You are in it all.
And I am just one that make up many
that makes up one.
I am a part of you.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Timber!
A picture of the lumber that was taken out of my eye.
You should see the one still in there...
Jesus said, "You see the sliver in your friend's eye, but you don't see the timber in your own eye. When you take the timber out of your own eye, then you will see well enough to remove the sliver from your friend's eye."
Gospel of Thomas, vs. 26
Yet another reminder to ME. Stop focusing on all that I disagree with, and continue working on my path. The only path I am responsible for maintaining is my own, not anyone elses's.
In a way, isn't that a relief?
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Green What?
So in honor of St. Patrick's Day, I made green eggs, toast with green honey butter, green milk, and, um, brown veggie sausage. I'm not Irish, but my kids are, so I surprised them with breakfast.
They ate most of it, but I think they were a little grossed out. Mission accomplished!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
They ate most of it, but I think they were a little grossed out. Mission accomplished!
Friday, March 16, 2007
Death Through Adam, Life Through Christ
This morning I read Romans 3-5. I took particular interest in Romans 5:12-21, "Death through Adam, Life through Christ". And this is what I wanted to journal on. I will try to behave myself as much as possible!
Romans 5:18-19
"Just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men, so also the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man will be made righteous."
This passage is of course talking about the fall of man through Adam, and the salvation of man through Jesus. When Adam sinned in the garden, taking the fruit from Eve from the only tree God forbade them to eat from, sin entered the life of man. The Garden of Eden closed forever for man. The only way sin could be forgiven was by offering a sacrifice to God, usually a perfect lamb with no blemish or scars. I can imagine in those days that lambs may have become scarce. Think of how often we sin, from an action to a mere thought. Because of our sinful nature, it is impossible to not sin. If we needed to sacrifice for every infraction we committed, first of all we would be more aware (which isn't really a bad thing, when you think about it....), but we would surely miss out on some sins we overlooked, and would never get in the kingdom of Heaven.
Enter Jesus. Here was a man that God gave to us as our sacrificial lamb. He was not only our perfect lamb, he was our example of how our walk should look. The sacrifice of Jesus was so great that it became unnecessary to need to sacrifice any longer for our sins. Jesus' death the sacrifice for all sins that have ever been committed, and all future sins as well. Jesus died for all of us so that we will all join God in Heaven.
But see, this is where things get confusing. There are a lot of scripture in the bible that read one cannot be saved without belief in Jesus. But then scattered sparingly through the bible are scriptures like this, everyone is saved through Jesus. The many were made sinners through Adam. Not just a select few of us either. The many of us can safely be assumed to mean all of us, for who of any of us is without sin? And if it is clear that the many of us means everyone when it comes to who was affected by Adam's sin, it seems like it should be clear that the many of us means everyone when it comes to who is made righteous through the sacrifice of Jesus.
And it makes sense. If the fall of Adam led to the sinful nature of everyone, wouldn't the death of Jesus, God's son, have even more power to save all of us? Why would he sacrifice himself for only a select people when the sin of Adam affected EVERYONE? And beyond that, if sin is a sin, none better and none worse, and if disbelief in Jesus is considered a sin, how is that worse than any of my sins? How will one's sin of disbelief damn them any more than any of my sins? What makes me more deserving of the kingdom of heaven than someone who doesn't believe things the way I do?
These are just thought probing questions, I am not giving answers here. Coming across these passages really isn't ammo for some new war against religion. I cannot take these verses and disregard the rest of the bible. But I also cannot take the rest of the bible and disregard these verses. But reading these verses gives me hope. It is true that I hold reservations about religion in general, for every religion claims that they are the only true religion, that they are the only ones who know the truth, and everyone else is screwed. I don't think I'll ever believe that any one religion is absolutely correct, including Christianity. Religions are not God. God is God. And we will never know the whole entire truth until we are in the kingdom of Heaven. However, I do believe Christianity has a good hold on the truth. I wouldn't consider myself a Christian if I didn't. But I do think we can learn from other faiths to strengthen our own. We are all one people under God, on different paths that lead to God, and I would like to think that if we could open our eyes to wisdom in all corners of the earth, it might get us even closer to God than we ever thought possible.
Lord, I thank you for providing us a way to get to you through Jesus. I even thank you that we have a choice now in how we live our lives and how we accept you through the sin of Adam, for it makes that choice so much sweeter, and the journey that much more wondrous. And even more wondrous, you have chosen me whether I am faithful or not. Lord, I cannot even find words to describe how wonderful that feels, and how grateful I am for you in my life.
Lord, please guide me in this journey to you. It has been my desire, even in times I stopped walking and stood still, to know the truth of you in this world. I truly believe you are in many things that are foreign to me, as well as the things that are familiar to me. But I admit to having a hard time seeking your wisdom without also drowning in lies and doubts over you.
Lord, I ask you to protect my soul as I travel through the fires to reach you. I want my life to radiate as much of you as possible before I join you in the next life. But to do that, I know I need your guidance. And my faith must be strong. Please be my shield.
Amen.
Romans 5:18-19
"Just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men, so also the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man will be made righteous."
This passage is of course talking about the fall of man through Adam, and the salvation of man through Jesus. When Adam sinned in the garden, taking the fruit from Eve from the only tree God forbade them to eat from, sin entered the life of man. The Garden of Eden closed forever for man. The only way sin could be forgiven was by offering a sacrifice to God, usually a perfect lamb with no blemish or scars. I can imagine in those days that lambs may have become scarce. Think of how often we sin, from an action to a mere thought. Because of our sinful nature, it is impossible to not sin. If we needed to sacrifice for every infraction we committed, first of all we would be more aware (which isn't really a bad thing, when you think about it....), but we would surely miss out on some sins we overlooked, and would never get in the kingdom of Heaven.
Enter Jesus. Here was a man that God gave to us as our sacrificial lamb. He was not only our perfect lamb, he was our example of how our walk should look. The sacrifice of Jesus was so great that it became unnecessary to need to sacrifice any longer for our sins. Jesus' death the sacrifice for all sins that have ever been committed, and all future sins as well. Jesus died for all of us so that we will all join God in Heaven.
But see, this is where things get confusing. There are a lot of scripture in the bible that read one cannot be saved without belief in Jesus. But then scattered sparingly through the bible are scriptures like this, everyone is saved through Jesus. The many were made sinners through Adam. Not just a select few of us either. The many of us can safely be assumed to mean all of us, for who of any of us is without sin? And if it is clear that the many of us means everyone when it comes to who was affected by Adam's sin, it seems like it should be clear that the many of us means everyone when it comes to who is made righteous through the sacrifice of Jesus.
And it makes sense. If the fall of Adam led to the sinful nature of everyone, wouldn't the death of Jesus, God's son, have even more power to save all of us? Why would he sacrifice himself for only a select people when the sin of Adam affected EVERYONE? And beyond that, if sin is a sin, none better and none worse, and if disbelief in Jesus is considered a sin, how is that worse than any of my sins? How will one's sin of disbelief damn them any more than any of my sins? What makes me more deserving of the kingdom of heaven than someone who doesn't believe things the way I do?
These are just thought probing questions, I am not giving answers here. Coming across these passages really isn't ammo for some new war against religion. I cannot take these verses and disregard the rest of the bible. But I also cannot take the rest of the bible and disregard these verses. But reading these verses gives me hope. It is true that I hold reservations about religion in general, for every religion claims that they are the only true religion, that they are the only ones who know the truth, and everyone else is screwed. I don't think I'll ever believe that any one religion is absolutely correct, including Christianity. Religions are not God. God is God. And we will never know the whole entire truth until we are in the kingdom of Heaven. However, I do believe Christianity has a good hold on the truth. I wouldn't consider myself a Christian if I didn't. But I do think we can learn from other faiths to strengthen our own. We are all one people under God, on different paths that lead to God, and I would like to think that if we could open our eyes to wisdom in all corners of the earth, it might get us even closer to God than we ever thought possible.
Lord, I thank you for providing us a way to get to you through Jesus. I even thank you that we have a choice now in how we live our lives and how we accept you through the sin of Adam, for it makes that choice so much sweeter, and the journey that much more wondrous. And even more wondrous, you have chosen me whether I am faithful or not. Lord, I cannot even find words to describe how wonderful that feels, and how grateful I am for you in my life.
Lord, please guide me in this journey to you. It has been my desire, even in times I stopped walking and stood still, to know the truth of you in this world. I truly believe you are in many things that are foreign to me, as well as the things that are familiar to me. But I admit to having a hard time seeking your wisdom without also drowning in lies and doubts over you.
Lord, I ask you to protect my soul as I travel through the fires to reach you. I want my life to radiate as much of you as possible before I join you in the next life. But to do that, I know I need your guidance. And my faith must be strong. Please be my shield.
Amen.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Reflections
I've been doing a lot of self reflection lately. It kind of goes along with the territory of ceasing to depend on things outside myself for my own self worth. It's been a hard process to go through, and I'm struggling in every single step.
I figured that the best place for me would be to open up my bible. I woke up with a start from a dream very early this morning. I can't remember the dream, but I felt God telling me that I was supposed to get up.
I can't explain why God talks to me. I don't feel I've done anything extraordinary in being faithful to Him. But it seems like whenever I welcome Him in, He arrives full force. We have full on conversations, God and I.
Anyway, I obediently got up, dusted off my bible, and went in the front room to read. With a great cup of coffee, I settled into the comfy chair. Where to start? I thumbed through it, taking out the millions of leaflets from my days of church, reading this passage and that which I had taken notes on. And I finally decided to follow a friend of mine and start in Romans.
I like Romans. It's straight forward and tells it like it is. There's no beating around the bush. My favorite verses are in Romans, Romans 14. So I started here. I began with Romans 1. Then I read through Romans 2. But something was clicking in Romans 2. I kept stopping myself and rereading passages. And I realized that I needed to start journaling to go along with reading, so I got out my notebook and wrote down this verse:
(Romans 2:3-4)
"So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God's judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance, and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you towards repentance?"
Whoa.
I have been guilty of finding passages and using them to my power, to strengthen my fight against fundamentalism. I have pointed fingers, judging those I felt were judging others. And then in all this, in my fight to be right and against all that I felt unjust in religion, I stopped seeking God. And even worse, I made myself believe I was still just as faith seeking as ever. In reality, I was self-seeking, and self-serving. I was no longer a disciple of God. I no longer sought to strengthen my faith and overcome my shortcomings. The only studying I did of the bible was to find passages to prove what I thought was right.
In all this, though I thought I was close to God, I actually stepped farther away from my faith than I ever had before, and began questioning the very things I used to be sure of. I ignored all the warning signs, negatively focusing on everything I felt was wrong, and missing all in my faith that is right. And I find myself in a scary spot, rebuilding my foundation in God.
The last line of those selected verses is where the hope lies. God's kindness will lead me to repentance. You see, we are never truly apart from God. He is always with us. And He always WANTS us. And when we accept that, He is always there with open arms, ready to forgive. God does not hold grudges, no matter how many times we fail Him. And I have failed Him. If I truly want the world to believe the truth that I feel, it is my walk that will speak the loudest. And right now, my walk is pretty weak and without substance.
Now is the process of restoring my faith from small to overwhelming. I am trying to relearn how to be close to God, wanting the same things He wants for my life. It's not easy. In fact, it's pretty painful. But I am willing to go through the necessary steps to get back to God, seeking His guidance in living for His glory, and not my own.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Child in Faith
I vow to trust You, to depend on You. No longer will I be disappointed by the failings of man living up to MY expectations, for You are perfect and provide me with everything I need. You know all my innermost secrets and desires, and love me as I am. I do not need to shout out the contents of my soul, for YOU know. And that is all that matters. All I'm waiting on, all I'm anxious to happen, it's already here with You. All I pray for every single night when the world has gone to sleep, You are giving to me just by hearing me. There is nothing of this world that will give me more satisfaction than being Your child. I am exhausting myself needlessly, and I'm sorry it has taken this long to see Your unfailing love for me. I am sorry I ever put other idols in front of You, and I'm sorry I ever doubted Your power so much that I trusted everything more than You, including myself. I am done, I have come to my senses, and I thank You for accepting me, time and time again, even when I fail You. May I always be a child in faith, for no matter how much I fight it, I will always be Your child.
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Dance
Two people stood at the entrance to the hall leading to the bathroom, seemingly guarding the entrance on either side. Their bodies were covered in tattoos, their hair in a fashion that could only be described as punk. But their faces held the expressions of someone you would want to meet, full of joy and happiness, and of someone who would surely accept anyone from all walks of life. And they smiled at me as they continued talking in an excited fashion. But they did not use their lips or their voices, they used their hands. The only sound was the clanking of glasses, the music at a low hum, the hiss from the espresso machine. But a bubble was present around them, their meaning expressed through excited gestures, an occasional laugh escaping from their smiling mouths. And all noises seemed to disappear as their conversation seemed to be the loudest one in the room. I ducked underneath the conversation to wait outside the occupied restroom. And I tried not to be obvious in my interest of their dancing fingers, the rapid movements in their hands in the language that was a mystery to me. I watched out of the corner of my eye, trying to appear fascinated by the bulletins on the wall, but really I was fascinated by the grace they possessed. And as the woman in the restroom came out, our eyes caught and we smiled, and it was almost like we both knew that silence was necessary, not wanting to break the magic spell these two beautiful creatures had over anyone who happened to be witness to their exchange.
...
A friend once wrote of her experience at a party, where she was the only person that could hear the deafening music, the rest of the guests only able to feel the bouncing rhythm that shook the whole room. The cops finally came and told the guests that they would have to turn down the music. And the room no longer shook, the guests unable to dance for they could no longer "hear" the music. Confused hands moved in a fury of motion as the situation was explained to those who couldn't understand the sudden change. And the birthday girl stood up, an interpreter beside her to communicate what she was signing.
"I can't hear the music...I can feel the music....so can everyone stand up and close their eyes and feel their heart beats...and dance to your heart beat......"
And my friend was moved in awe as the silent party continued to dance with no sound whatsoever, but all in a movement that blended as one, and was reminded again of the wonderful connection we all share as many different people combined as one.
...
When I left the restroom, the couple was gone. But a second couple waited at a table with their son. They, too, were decorated in tattoos. Their son, no older than 4, sported a punkish mohawk and an innocent face. And they too knew this foreign language, their young son contributing to the conversation in a delicate movement of his hands. And I wanted to cry at the beauty of it all, wishing in that moment I could take away my gift of sound to join their beautiful world of dancing hands and silent laughter.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
The Anchor
For the last several weeks, my son has been extra clingy. It's been kind of nice, actually, as he has been content in just being at my side, or in my lap, or holding my hand, or interrupting whatever he is doing to come up and give me a really big hug. And I've been happy to comply. But I also wonder about what's going on inside of him that is making him so needy for me.
I've been working a lot lately. For the past three months I have been working full time at my job in a temporary position. Thankfully I move back to part time this next week, and I get Mondays off of work, giving me a three day weekend (yay!). But all Lucas has known is that I am gone almost the whole week, and it has been that way since September. His interaction with me is in the morning getting ready for school, and for three hours before bedtime. It has finally reached a head for him, and now when I am home, it is like he is soaking up lost time as furiously as he can. It also seems like he's afraid of losing me. It seems that the poor little guy has gone through so many changes in his young life, that he is afraid that if he doesn't hold onto me for dear life, I might leave too.
I have been taking this time just listening to him, and he has been opening up to me. He's gotten out some pretty hard feelings that he cried about having. But I could sense the relief in him for getting these difficult feelings out, ones I know he has been conflicted in having, and I can see his healing process take place. He is finally opening up to me about things he thought I'd hate him for. I have just held him, rocked his little body, and told him I could never hate my favorite little boy in the whole world, and that I was so proud of him for understanding his feelings and being honest about them.
He's been really emotional lately, crying at the drop of a hat over lots of things that would normally not even touch him. My role has been to be strong for him, to be the anchor he can hold onto while he misses certain parts of his life that are no longer, that he has had to become older than his 6 years to overcome.
In essence, isn't this the role God has with us? As I have been going through my own life changes, and as I have been strong for my son, I have my own questions and feelings that would have been hard to go through on my own without an anchor. I have prayed plenty, and have felt times when God held my own body in the folds of his warmth, slowly rocking it as I cried into the robes of his breath. And in sadness, I realize he's been there all the time, through all the changes I have gone through, and through the changes I am still going through.
Aren't we fortunate to have a God who knows us, who cares about us, who will never abandon us in our time of need, even when we push him aside? Aren't we fortunate to be able to be held and rocked in those times of turmoil, when we feel like the world is pushing us away, wanting nothing more to do with us?
In Buddhism they call this feeling enlightenment and Nirvana. In Christianity, they call it mysticism.
It is the feeling of God overcoming us, passing through us, proving his existance with the very presence of Him. It's the benefit of having a personal relationship with God, and one he does not fail in giving to us. It's what Jacob experienced when he saw God open up the Heavens. It's what Frances of Assissi experienced when he embraced a leper and felt God's undeniable presence,and understood his role in life serving God. It's what Mother Theresa embraced in sharing God's word without words to convince, but clear as day through her life of catering to the poor and forgotten. It's what caused Moses to lead his people from slavery and oppression, and what changed Moses' hair from dark to white upon seeing the face of God on the mountain. It's what Abraham felt as he heard God, despite living in a land where strange Gods were worshipped, and what caused Abraham to become the father of the nations. Mysticism is what Jesus experienced in His life, and what he gave back through teaching in love, and by fulfilling the ultimate act of sacrifice so that one day we would be able to experience God face to face.
It's what I have gone through in those times I have tuned out the distractions of this world and focused on God. It's the feeling He washes over me, the warm feeling that radiates through my whole being as I feel Him take over my whole body, leaving no part untouched. It's when the whole world just disappears and all I know is Him, for in that moment He is all I feel and all I hear. It is when he reassures me that He will always be my anchor, should I accept that.
This is the example I wish to give to my son in his time of need, that even though life is moving in a tornado of hurt and abandonment, confusion and disappointment, I am here, his anchor, never changing and always loving. And it is my hope that one day, when he grows too old to climb in my lap and seek comfort, he can take this relationship I have had with him and transfer it to God. It is my hope that my example will be understood by him as the love God has for us as His children, and that this love will never, ever disappear, just as my love for him will never disappear.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Go fly a Kite.....
Nothing like flying a kite on a wonderful January day at the beach.... Spent today with the kids at our freezing and windy beach with our new stunt kite, and we had the time of our lives! We ended it with a warm dinner at a local restaurant, reminiscing over our day, and laughing and enjoying each other's presence. It's days like these that our little family of three seems absolutely perfect.... We're not broken, we're fixed!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Farewell to a Great Year
Visiting Danielle's blog today, I was inspired by her list of 2006 blessings. The beginning of the year for me is usually the time when I breathe a sigh of relief at the chance to start over and make new plans for how the year will be. But it is also a time when I look back over the year and think about how it turned out.
This past year I was especially blessed. I remember that at the end of 2005, I just knew that 2006 would be a special year. I knew it would be different from the rest. And I was most definitely right! 2006 has proved to be my turning point, the year I transformed, changed, grew. It was the year I lost the sorrowful divorced girl, the one who depended on the wisdom of others and who didn't seem to have a voice. In her place I found the confident woman that was always inside me, the one with her own wisdom, with the strength to make her own life.
2006 was the year that I gave up my divorced identity, letting go of the misconception that being divorced was a sad reality, and somehow made me less. It was the year that I realized that I am my own person, not identified by who I was once married to. It was the year I let go of my sufferings, realizing that they didn't create me. It was the year that I stopped lamenting, and started living....for my life!
2006 was the year that I found out what being a devoted mother looks like. Yeah, I've been a mother for almost 9 years now. I've been a single mother for 3. But this year I realized that sometimes we must make huge sacrifices and give up our own comfort to allow our children the best world possible. Sometimes we must give up some things, and some people, for our family's well being. And when life gets hard, you just work harder.
2006 was the year that I realized that I need friends and family. I could not have made it through the trials of this year without my devoted family and my true friends. Sometimes I was given valuable advice. Sometimes I was given a willing ear. Sometimes I was given a shoulder to cry on. I learned to receive, as well as to give. I learned that sometimes we need to be supported so we can be strong.
2006 was the year I sound the courage to work outside of the home. In 2004 I began working with my father in an amazing job that allowed me to make an income while still being home with my kids. This last year, circumstances "forced" me into seeking a different job. I landed the very first job I tried for, at my dream location, the newspaper! It was a place I always wanted to work. And when I got the job, my fears were overwhelming. But I soon realized that it was possible, I could actually be successful in a job, and my kids would survive the transition. It's been rocky, hard at times, and absolutely wonderful! Working with my father gave me the confidence I had lost for awhile, and allowed me the strength to actually survive the fast paced and demanding job that I have now. And not only that, having this job gives me the sight to see the possibilities I have for the future. And that excites me most of all.
In 2006 I found God, over and over again, every single day. I saw Him in the big things, and I saw Him in the little things. I saw Him in ways I had overlooked Him. I saw that God answers prayers in His own way, in His timing, and in ways much better than my own. I found God's wisdom in my own religion, and I found God's wisdom in other religions. And I realized that my identity as a Christian never lessened in the process, I daresay it was strengthened. There were times when my questioning even troubled myself, but when it all fell together, I found God waiting for me in the end. I learned that finding God is all in the journey, and the journey never ends.
As I look back at 2006, I see a transformation that I am proud of. And it makes me confident that 2007 holds even more in store for me. I am excited about this new year, not as an escape from the previous year, but as a continuance of a truly magical year.
Happy New Year to all my friends! May your new year hold magic for you too!
This past year I was especially blessed. I remember that at the end of 2005, I just knew that 2006 would be a special year. I knew it would be different from the rest. And I was most definitely right! 2006 has proved to be my turning point, the year I transformed, changed, grew. It was the year I lost the sorrowful divorced girl, the one who depended on the wisdom of others and who didn't seem to have a voice. In her place I found the confident woman that was always inside me, the one with her own wisdom, with the strength to make her own life.
2006 was the year that I gave up my divorced identity, letting go of the misconception that being divorced was a sad reality, and somehow made me less. It was the year that I realized that I am my own person, not identified by who I was once married to. It was the year I let go of my sufferings, realizing that they didn't create me. It was the year that I stopped lamenting, and started living....for my life!
2006 was the year that I found out what being a devoted mother looks like. Yeah, I've been a mother for almost 9 years now. I've been a single mother for 3. But this year I realized that sometimes we must make huge sacrifices and give up our own comfort to allow our children the best world possible. Sometimes we must give up some things, and some people, for our family's well being. And when life gets hard, you just work harder.
2006 was the year that I realized that I need friends and family. I could not have made it through the trials of this year without my devoted family and my true friends. Sometimes I was given valuable advice. Sometimes I was given a willing ear. Sometimes I was given a shoulder to cry on. I learned to receive, as well as to give. I learned that sometimes we need to be supported so we can be strong.
2006 was the year I sound the courage to work outside of the home. In 2004 I began working with my father in an amazing job that allowed me to make an income while still being home with my kids. This last year, circumstances "forced" me into seeking a different job. I landed the very first job I tried for, at my dream location, the newspaper! It was a place I always wanted to work. And when I got the job, my fears were overwhelming. But I soon realized that it was possible, I could actually be successful in a job, and my kids would survive the transition. It's been rocky, hard at times, and absolutely wonderful! Working with my father gave me the confidence I had lost for awhile, and allowed me the strength to actually survive the fast paced and demanding job that I have now. And not only that, having this job gives me the sight to see the possibilities I have for the future. And that excites me most of all.
In 2006 I found God, over and over again, every single day. I saw Him in the big things, and I saw Him in the little things. I saw Him in ways I had overlooked Him. I saw that God answers prayers in His own way, in His timing, and in ways much better than my own. I found God's wisdom in my own religion, and I found God's wisdom in other religions. And I realized that my identity as a Christian never lessened in the process, I daresay it was strengthened. There were times when my questioning even troubled myself, but when it all fell together, I found God waiting for me in the end. I learned that finding God is all in the journey, and the journey never ends.
As I look back at 2006, I see a transformation that I am proud of. And it makes me confident that 2007 holds even more in store for me. I am excited about this new year, not as an escape from the previous year, but as a continuance of a truly magical year.
Happy New Year to all my friends! May your new year hold magic for you too!
Monday, January 01, 2007
2007
New year.
New start.
Changes
to be made
to be decided
to follow through.
And that can be scary...
...and exciting.
Will I like it?
Will I be accepted?
Is it everything I want it to be?
Most important,
Can a single mother
with a not so elegant past
find her place amongst these strangers?
And will I be equal
and not place myself beneath them?
And will I allow my soul
to shine
rather than hiding it in fear
as has been my habit for years?
Only time will tell.
And this is the time to do it.
I will make the change.
I will let my soul sing.
And I will no longer hide
or apologize
For a faith that I know is right.
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