Sunday, February 11, 2007

it's not november

Time. It’s this strange thing that continually moves forward. In my experience it is constant though I have been told it is not. Every hour is 60 minutes, and every minute is 60 seconds. And, every second that passes is propelling me forward into the next second. Attempting to stop time is like standing on a beach trying to hold back the waves. The water just keeps pouring over you and disappearing just as seconds flood your life and then are gone.

It’s not November. It’s February. And, between November and February many things have happened. Some monumental. Some mundane. All working together to shape and form and change me. I am not who I was in November. It’s February, and I couldn’t go back even if I wanted to.

~ by funsize on February 11, 2007.

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

being in relationship?

I noticed that the crossing guard was gone again today. I don’t know her name. I don’t know what troubles swirl around in her life. I don’t know if she will be back. But, I missed her.

A friend of mine has been reading a woman’s blog for some time now. The woman passed away yesterday. My friend cried.

This morning on my group email we were updated about the baby growing in my friends’ womb. Words on a computer screen reported the size of the baby, about the heart, and mind, and physical appearance. I rejoiced with them.

What does it mean to be in relationship?

Monday, February 5, 2007

the treasure emerges

While walking through the sand it was as if our feet were withholding the mystery from us. We trudged along sinking deep into the sand with every step. As we approached the shoreline, the sand became more like a carpet spread before us. After walking a while the shoreline shifted directions slightly and rocks decorated the ocean floor. The brisk breeze cooled us as the sun shown down on our backs this rare winter day. The waves washed up all sorts of pebbles and stones. Pinks, browns, and whites. Some were strange combinations displaying stripes or specks of different colors. Amidst these was the treasure we had come in search of. I picked up my first find. It was about the size of a penny and was a soft lime green. The ocean waves, wind, and rocks had beat upon it until it was smooth though the edges remained uneven. What had once been shiny was now dull. What had once been whole was now broken down. What had once been thrown away was now a treasure.

I have finally given myself permission to read through my writing from the past year. This includes my mass-emails, journal entries, and prayers. As I am sure you have heard me say before, it has been a difficult year. I found it interesting to see the reprieve I had in May and June. After moving, having my parents here, and graduating within one week, the Lord knew I needed some time. And, I found my home to be a sanctuary out in the woods of Wenham. The Lord and I communicated often, and the tranquility brought peace to my soul. Throughout much of the rest of the year, it seems I was attempting to tackle one difficult experience after another. Some of my prayers were incredibly raw. Many of my journals reveal the brokenness I was experiencing, while my emails often painted in words the circumstances I found myself in.

Glass is thrown into the ocean. The rocks beat against it breaking it down while the force of the wind and crushing of the waves whittle down the sharp edges. As the elements continue to order its path, the seaglass begins to grow in beauty.

I do not for a minute regret the circumstances of my life in the past year. There have definitely been difficult days. The many broken dreams, the many transitions, the many painful circumstances…and yet, here I stand more and more convinced that all of these things have crafted me into something more precious to the Lord. I am ever-so-slowly learning that my joy, hope, contentment, and peace are not dependant upon external circumstances.

And slowly the treasure emerges.

what we are looking for

The instructions came in an email. He had laid out the spacing, the words, and the order they should be placed in; basically, he had laid out what he wanted. It didn’t take long to create a flyer that met his specifications. It looked like most flyers that you might find on a bulletin board. It was predictable and informative with a piece of clipart smack-dab in the middle. With a little bit of creativity, the designer began to create a flyer that was eye-catching. In a simple font, “It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing” was scripted across the top. She added filters and innovation to a photo giving the dancing couple a striking appearance. At the bottom of the flyer was all the information the viewer needed. This flyer still had the needed details, but followed none of the instructions for the design. I presented the first option to our client telling him this is what he had asked for. He seemed satisfied. I told him that with a little bit of time and creativity the second one had been created. And, it was clear this was the one he preferred.

Perhaps sometimes what we think we are looking for isn’t really what we are looking for at all.

red ruby slippers

I have been looking in my closet for this certain pair of shoes. I moved not so long ago, and I can’t seem to find anything. There are boxes upstairs in storage waiting to be sorted, and I am sure my red ruby slippers are somewhere in there. I want them not because they are the perfect complement to my outfit, but because when Dorothy tapped hers together she got to go home. And, somewhere within me, I guess I believe in the power of stories.

we cheer big

One my dear friends teaches children. She frequently attends basketball games, and because it is such a small school, sometimes the teams they play will be 2nd-8th Graders. She reflected on how you cheer for different things as a result of their age. For some little boys and girls it takes everything they’ve got to just run down the court. Now, if you add a basketball to that it becomes very difficult. One little girl with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes was in second grade. She was trying so hard out there. Dribbling took all of her concentration. The crowd cheered simply because she moved across the court. My dear friend used this story to remind me that we cheer big for great accomplishments. And, “great” accomplishments don’t always look the same.

Today I got groceries without being overwhelmed, called the electric company, and did all of my dishes. And, we cheer big.