God has been so kind to me!
Every time I have limited capacity for my customer service job, He gives me the lightest workload. I came in for 7.30 to discover that the first client isn't due til 8. (Meaning: quietness abounds.) They will be the only client til 9. (Meaning: An opportunity to eat breakfast slowly and half-watch television.) There is only one provider working today until the end of my shift. (Meaning: it is almost impossible for me to get overwhelmed with people. Often there are three providers working at once and their clients come in every fifteen minutes. Picture it!)
When I'm able to keep up with high traffic, I love it. I find it energising. Today I am physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually tired. Last night was surreal and difficult, my umpteenth hospital visit this year, and the future looks strugglesome. But I'm going to do my best and I'm going to persistent-widow the Lord to give me strength and joy.
Tell me all about Him. He's so good.
Thursday, 31 July 2014
Thursday, 17 July 2014
It was an oddly still moment, watching those familiar hands do up the last two buttons down the shirt front.
Weekday mornings are usually rushed (aren't they supposed to be rushed?) and yet this was a moment of true uni-tasking. I watched those hands uni-task the shirt closed right to the bottom and then realised with some surprise that all I was doing was watch the hands get the little pearl buttons through their holes.
There was no concurrent activity, either physical or mental, as there always is to tighten up morning prep time.
The shirt was fully closed and then the hands dropped down to resting position.
I stopped and said to myself, "I know those hands..." and I stood still as they seemed utterly familiar yet new.
Then--That's her. That's what she looks like.
That's me. Those are my trousers. That is my shirt. I'm tanned this summer. The shirt complements my complexion more now than it did in April.
That's me. That's the majority of my abdomen reflected in the mirror from the counter-top to the bottom of the steam cloud.
I look up, expecting to see some of my face where the steam has cleared but it's too soon for that. My face, the top of my body to the middle of my rib cage, is completely obscured. It's completely obscured.
It's hidden by this fog that should clear soon enough.
I recognise the parts I see; I wish I could see the whole thing. (Is the metaphor becoming obvious now?)
It was perfect. It brought a twinge of frustration but I thought the visual expression was too profound and poignant to not be a little neat (and somehow, sidewaysly encouraging).
Weekday mornings are usually rushed (aren't they supposed to be rushed?) and yet this was a moment of true uni-tasking. I watched those hands uni-task the shirt closed right to the bottom and then realised with some surprise that all I was doing was watch the hands get the little pearl buttons through their holes.
There was no concurrent activity, either physical or mental, as there always is to tighten up morning prep time.
The shirt was fully closed and then the hands dropped down to resting position.
I stopped and said to myself, "I know those hands..." and I stood still as they seemed utterly familiar yet new.
Then--That's her. That's what she looks like.
That's me. Those are my trousers. That is my shirt. I'm tanned this summer. The shirt complements my complexion more now than it did in April.
That's me. That's the majority of my abdomen reflected in the mirror from the counter-top to the bottom of the steam cloud.
I look up, expecting to see some of my face where the steam has cleared but it's too soon for that. My face, the top of my body to the middle of my rib cage, is completely obscured. It's completely obscured.
It's hidden by this fog that should clear soon enough.
I recognise the parts I see; I wish I could see the whole thing. (Is the metaphor becoming obvious now?)
It was perfect. It brought a twinge of frustration but I thought the visual expression was too profound and poignant to not be a little neat (and somehow, sidewaysly encouraging).
Tuesday, 15 July 2014
I just finished making labels for file folders holding two newer songs we've added to the repertoire here. "Raised to Life" and "Christ is Risen".
When I wrote the second label, my language-brain noticed the repeated word (or repeated roots of a word) and my abstract-concept-brain pulled up the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
It hit me in a moment that this event is so big a deal that more songs have been written about it than any other event in the history of time. No... that's what I cashed out as I came to blog. What hit me in the moment is, "this must be a big deal."
It must be a big deal that in 2013 and 2009 respectively, North Americans are writing about the Son of God's miraculous, inconceivable conquering of death--which transpired two millennia before their time--and being raised to life forever more. (I won't even get started on what that means for those who are united with Him...)
A big deal if there ever was one!
The biggest deal!
!!
When I wrote the second label, my language-brain noticed the repeated word (or repeated roots of a word) and my abstract-concept-brain pulled up the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
It hit me in a moment that this event is so big a deal that more songs have been written about it than any other event in the history of time. No... that's what I cashed out as I came to blog. What hit me in the moment is, "this must be a big deal."
It must be a big deal that in 2013 and 2009 respectively, North Americans are writing about the Son of God's miraculous, inconceivable conquering of death--which transpired two millennia before their time--and being raised to life forever more. (I won't even get started on what that means for those who are united with Him...)
A big deal if there ever was one!
The biggest deal!
!!
Saturday, 12 July 2014
I'm fine. "I'm fine."
The list of people who have said I can call if I need to talk is pretty long. It's something I thank God for. It's an amazing thing to have friends.
The list of people I do call when I want to talk is much shorter. Actually it's a list of one. And I don't always make it to dialling.
So what do I do now, crying about a traumatic event from my past that I honestly thought I had dealt with better than this? Today it feels fresh. Secondary events feel freshly devastating, too. This is why people cut their wrists. I understand those people. We want out. Overwhelmed by exactly how your life is--where can escape be? It's hard to talk when it seems like reality is shoved down your throat, gagging. This blog post is the same cry for help as the cutting of wrists or abnormal piercings or dramatic haircuts. This is the fifth time in eight days that I've been moved to tears. It is tiring. Now I'll feel like a zombie for a little while.
I'll stay alone until I can cover up what's happened, like I've just experienced incontinence or something. Then I'll re-integrate and find something lighter to talk about.
---
And because I can't leave it this way and this verse popped to mind, here's something else that's inescapable:
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Psalm 139:7-14
---
Hmm. That verse didn't "pop" to mind at all. No... that was the Lord finding me when I can't lift my head up. What a Guy.
The list of people I do call when I want to talk is much shorter. Actually it's a list of one. And I don't always make it to dialling.
So what do I do now, crying about a traumatic event from my past that I honestly thought I had dealt with better than this? Today it feels fresh. Secondary events feel freshly devastating, too. This is why people cut their wrists. I understand those people. We want out. Overwhelmed by exactly how your life is--where can escape be? It's hard to talk when it seems like reality is shoved down your throat, gagging. This blog post is the same cry for help as the cutting of wrists or abnormal piercings or dramatic haircuts. This is the fifth time in eight days that I've been moved to tears. It is tiring. Now I'll feel like a zombie for a little while.
I'll stay alone until I can cover up what's happened, like I've just experienced incontinence or something. Then I'll re-integrate and find something lighter to talk about.
---
And because I can't leave it this way and this verse popped to mind, here's something else that's inescapable:
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Psalm 139:7-14
---
Hmm. That verse didn't "pop" to mind at all. No... that was the Lord finding me when I can't lift my head up. What a Guy.
Wednesday, 9 July 2014
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Tuesday, 8 July 2014
how neat.
I forgot how much I enjoy libraries. I mistakenly turned up an hour early for work this afternoon and part of my time-killing efforts went to looking for a book. I found two that seemed like they'd at least make a good start to research.
At the check-out I was told that on this Fines Amnesty Day, my oustanding $7.50 could be waived if I borrowed seven items. I goggled a bit, asked for clarification, and then went flitting about the main floor to throw my You Don't Need Any More Books switch into the "off" position. (Every time I walk through Chapters, a cage descends over that switch and an alligator-riddled moat appears.)
It squeaked and groaned and I had some thick cobwebs to clear but soon enough I was "off" and browsing for whatever I wanted. It was free! What a gem of a sliver of my day which was otherwise hip-wading through wet cornstarch.
Books on topics I'm sure I'll enjoy; books on topics I want to learn about so I can engage my culture/unconverted friends, family, strangers; a book that I grab because it's small and I'm running out of arm space but it turns out to be a Jesus book (woo!); and the most indulgent of all, a book in my secretly most favorite but sadly least accessed genre, mystery.
I started reading on my way home one of the two I had planned to borrow and I'm thanking God for how un-terrible it is so far. I'm still largely undecided and cautious, but I'm truly grateful that so far it's pretty good.
Little things
good things
Thursday, 3 July 2014
scraps
I once was lost in darkest night yet thought I knew the way.
The sin that promised joy and life had led me to the grave.
Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
.
.
.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
.
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not;
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.
.
Light of the world, You came down into darkness,
opened my eyes, let me see.
Beauty that made this heart adore You,
hope of a life spent with You.
The sin that promised joy and life had led me to the grave.
.
.
.
Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
.
.
.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
.
.
.
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not;
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.
.
.
.
Light of the world, You came down into darkness,
opened my eyes, let me see.
Beauty that made this heart adore You,
hope of a life spent with You.
.
.
.
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
.
.
.
Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee, Opening to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness, Drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, Fill us with the light of day.
. . .
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
.
.
.
Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee, Opening to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness, Drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, Fill us with the light of day.
. . .
Kauflin, Jordan. "All I Have is Christ." Sovereign Grace Praise, 2008.
The New International Version Bible. Ed. Kenneth L. Barker. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011. (Psalm 13:3-4)
Ibid. (Psalm 139:11-12)
Chisholm, Thomas Obadiah. "Great is Thy faithfulness." Hope Publishing Company, 1951.
Hughes, Tim. "Here I Am to Worship." Thankyou Music, 2000.
Byrne, Mary E. (Trans.), Eleanor H. Hull (Arr.) "Be Thou My Vision." Public Domain.
Van Dyke, Henry. "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee." Public Domain.
The New International Version Bible. Ed. Kenneth L. Barker. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011. (Psalm 13:3-4)
Ibid. (Psalm 139:11-12)
Chisholm, Thomas Obadiah. "Great is Thy faithfulness." Hope Publishing Company, 1951.
Hughes, Tim. "Here I Am to Worship." Thankyou Music, 2000.
Byrne, Mary E. (Trans.), Eleanor H. Hull (Arr.) "Be Thou My Vision." Public Domain.
Van Dyke, Henry. "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee." Public Domain.
I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to keep laboring for my King. I don't know this magical, mystical process of putting one foot in front of the other.
Right now I know that there's a sharp pain over my right eye and my temples are beginning to throb. It's a side-effect of the pill I took to help me avoid having stressful dreams which come just about every night, a side-effect of another pill I'm taking.
Right now 95% of my material possessions are packed up in boxes and crates, ready to laugh at a team of us as we throw out our backs and curse staircases tomorrow.
Right now I wish I didn't have this week. I wish I didn't have this weekend. I wish I could get through it and I wish I was OK.
I wish I could see the Lord--and I wish I saw Him as some sort of guide in these choppy waters.
[graphic description of a brutal prison cell]
And here I sit. I can't open the door and I can't open the door. I can't pick the lock or fool the guard and I can't get up from my cot. I'm sitting awkardly still, like I see the hunter stalking deer and I don't know how much his trigger finger itches.
I'm barely breathing; I'm still. My brain is also frozen, perplexed by the conflicting data. I feel rigid and vacant as I sit, but at the same time I'm watching my body get up and push the door open over and over.
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