My Once a Decade Moment of Sappiness - For my friends

What is friendship? Real and true friendship, is it something that you experience in a moment? A brief fleeting pearl of time when you make a connection so strong that you feel like you have known each other for a life time? Is relationships that tend like a tree in an orchard, carefully pruning away the lifeless branches, giving others room to bloom and bear fruit? Is it stable and strong providing you with a firm place to leap from? Safety and security in a storm? Is it pliable, bending and swaying with the rhythms of life?

Is a friend someone you talk to every day? Someone with whom you have a brief encounter? That person who calls you up in the middle of the night to celebrate a small triumph or grieve over a great woe? Is it the person that only calls every two years, but it feels like you have never been apart? Someone to tell your secrets to, the one with whom all your pretenses easily fall away and sees you for who you really are?

Are they sources of strength in their quiet acceptance? Are they fountains of spontaneity, pulling you into shenanigans you would never do on your own? Do they push you dig deeper, fly higher, and try harder? Give you permission to rest, to cry, to laugh when no one else understands? Can you believe great dreams with them or simply be?

Do you fight, love, and become who you would hope to be in their presence? Do they call you on your garbage, especially when it is aimed at yourself? Do they let you wallow in self pity and then pull you out of the pits of despair when the timer goes off? Is honesty tempered with love? Is strength softened with compassion?

Can you hold their hands and watch as their world crumbles before them, because you know they stood by you when yours came crashing down? Do you ache with their pain when they lose it all? Does their tragedy rip at your heart, even as you hold it together to be a haven for them?

In my life, I have been blessed with a handful of friends. People who have been one or all of these things to me, for me, and ones for whom I hope to be the same for them. For a few of us, our lives are so entangled that you cannot tell where one life starts and the other begins. We have shared it all joy, triumph, heartache, fear, and hope. We dream our biggest dreams together, and we gently ground each other when we try to fly higher than our wings were made to go. We have held each other up when the world has rolled beneath our feet, leaving us to wonder if this life too cruel to be endured.

They are friends who listen to my midnight rants, and for them no call comes to late or early. They are the ones who call me on delusions of grandeur but refuse to let me accept the title of victim. They are the voices that remind me to be honest with myself, but to attempt great things. They are the ones who will pick me up when I need a ride, invade my fortress of solitude, and push me into the deep end. I love them because they are gentle with my frailties, and tough on my stupidity.

I have friends that I met once, and like sisters separate at birth we struggle to fit an entire lifetime of stories into a single afternoon. Laughing and sharing scars as we recognize one who knows us without being told, but taking delight in the telling. These friends are like a glass of fine wine – savored, enjoyed, and remembered fondly with a smile. They are the ones I wish I could call back into my life, but time and distance makes it impossible, so we rest in the comfort of knowing merely that they exist. Waiting for the day when perhaps there will be another few moments of indulgence.

Each friendship so different, valuable and beautiful for their uniqueness, and what they have brought to my life. Each making my world a little larger, a little less lonely, and little more of an adventure. They have helped me see myself better, and they have loved me as I am. You have helped me love me a little better, and with you I have learned to enjoy who I am. It is one of the greatest gifts a human being can give to another.

So there it is, my one moment of sappiness for this decade. I know I can count on all my true friends to torment me unmercifully about it. I love you any way.

Learning to Live

Ty started a new job right after Christmas, and he is working regular hours now, as opposed to the weird hours of his previous job. I have been finding that I am a bit at loose ends. It is the first time in my adult life that I have not had a job to get up and get dressed for or a deadline looming over my head. Yet, as I sat here this morning, I found myself asking for more time. Time to get the house cleaned, time to write a few more blog posts, time to organize the kids’ lessons and time to dream.

Mostly time to dream. I tend to spend a lot of time in my head, thinking things through to their ultimate conclusion, working out problems, and just wondering about the great mysteries of life. It is one of my favorite times, pacing around the living room, speaking my thoughts out loud and letting them drift where they may. It gives me energy and keeps me awake both mentally and physically.

This past week I haven’t been able to shake this groggy feeling, like my brain is only functioning at minimum capacity, refusing to do anything beyond basic life sustaining operations. I feel like a decade of being on survival mode has left me unable to cope without some sort of crisis demanding my attention, every cell super charged with adrenaline. Now it seems as if all the big issues of my life either have been or are being addressed, all without any apparent effort by me. It is a strange lulling security that seems to be dulling my edges.

This is a strange new role I have stepped into, full time wife and mother, good but strange. I look back over my life and I place them alongside my former job titles and I wonder how the tool-and-paint-sales person, art instructor, berry farm foreman, bartender, restaurant manager, college instructor, field hand, green house worker, hay hauler, floor layer, and shelf stocker got here. I had always hoped, but I don’t think I have ever believed that it could happen.

There is a big difference in hope and belief. Hope is dandelion fluff that floats through our vision, catching the sunlight, but impossible to grab. Belief is the foundation stones of something greater than you. Solid and strong, never failing to bear you up when you need the support.

I find now that this hope has solidified, and no longer am I chasing it across a field of broken glass. It’s here and I am learning to live with it. I am trying to understand how to accept it as a reality and keep reminding myself it is real. I am not going to wake up only to find that it has all been a pretty figment of my imagination.

So I am left with the question – Now, what?

Before Ty, so many of my hopes and dreams were bound up in the idea of being in love and being loved. I planned the ways I would care for the man who was willing to share in this life I desired, and I dreamt of the days when I would no longer feel that crushing weight of being alone. It took up so much time, kept me from going mad from the harsh facts of my existence. It was a beautiful place to retreat, to hide when the world got too scary, but now I live there. I don’t need to hide in my head. It is a good and frightening feeling all at once. One that leaves me blissful and sappy while filling me with a rare dread–what shall I dream of now?

Is it possible to be still and enjoy the moments that flow one right into the next? It is so new to me, so very strange and foreign, I often find myself holding my breath as if it were an exotic bird that I dare not startle or frighten away. I tip toe around this new life, careful lest I awaken myself and not all together sure that I like this new feeling of peace. Wondering how insane is that?

My father once said ignorant people are scared of what they don’t understand and even if something is better, they will do everything in their power to destroy it or remove it. I think that is where I am. This place, this feeling, is something I don’t understand but thankfully, I don’t believe that I am ignorant. So I am going through the process, learning to accept this blessing with grace and joy. It isn’t always easy, and I don’t think we acknowledge this part of the journey enough.

In this fallen world, marked with pain and suffering, doing without and just surviving, we have forgotten how to receive. We have forgotten how to experience the good things that the Father has chosen to bless us with. We have found that it is far easier to destroy or remove the blessing before we truly allow ourselves to experience it. It just seems so out of place when measured against our past experience, so we sabotage it, we deny it, or we run from it.

So look around, what is the Father bringing into your life? Is it a blessing? A special provision of grace? Your heart’s desire? Can you embrace it, acknowledge that it may not feel right just, yet is a good thing? Embrace it, protect it, and I promise you it will be worth all the awkward moments, every new and uncomfortable feeling. He only gives good gifts.

New Marriages, Mirrors, and Stilettos

Hello everyone, I would like to reiterate the apology already given by David. I am so sorry that there haven’t been any new posts for a while. As many of you already know, I have recently acquired a husband after over a decade of being single and I am having to learn to balance my new responsibilities with my old ones.

The good news is that I am learning why marriage is God’s favorite metaphor for our relationship to him, and that means lots of material for new posts.
Ty and I are at day 53 of married life and are off to a good start. Sure there have had to be some adjustments, and yes, we are still learning how to live with each other – what things we need to change in ourselves and simply accept this other person who has become such an important part of our lives, and okay, we both have some habits that drive the other one up the wall, but knowing that you are loved allows you to move through the process with some grace.

In some ways, I feel sorry for my new husband. He married a slob. Now, I never mean to be a slob, but when I get focused on something, (like writing, researching for one of my lectures, painting, or putting together the next Pagus event), housework ceases to exist. Unfortunately, while I don’t notice things like dishes piling up in the sink or the mound of books and papers growing on the couch, he does. And even more than that, there are things that you do when you live alone that another person might not appreciate, like make-up exploded all over the bathroom counter, notes written in marker on the dresser mirror, or using the car as a place to store extra shoes and such.

When you are by yourself stuff like that doesn’t matter, but suddenly now it does. Until now, I wasn’t even fully aware of the path of chaos I left in my wake, leaving books, papers, clothes, and half empty coffee cups behind me as a testament to my progress. I did not think anything about skipping meals just so I wouldn’t have to interrupt my flow of work or staying up all night to work on a project. It was how I lived, and as a single person it worked.

Adding Ty to my life was like someone holding up a giant magnifying mirror to it. Not that he complains (that much) or gets angry about my shortcomings as a homemaker. (No, domestic skills don’t come pre-installed with the ovaries.) Suddenly there is this person in my life who is affected by the way I live, by the priorities that dictate my activities, and I am having to learn how to accommodate him.

(And yes, I have kids, but they were like lion cubs raised on the Serengeti plains. They were acclimated to the chaos and believed it was perfectly normal to forage for food on their own, avoid natural disasters like book avalanches, and that coffee was needed for adult respiration.)

It took a relationship. It took a deeply intimate relationship for me to care enough to change some of my habits. No longer can I shove all the things I want to be hidden into my bedroom when company comes over. I can’t close that door to him. No longer can I put off grocery shopping until there is nothing but rice and steak sauce in the refrigerator, and when I do shop I have buy more than just coffee. Falling into bed at three in the morning isn’t an option; neither is leaving my stilettos in the middle of the floor.

Knowing God is like that. He comes into your life and for a lot of us we fine as long as we can entertain him in the living room, or simply serving him a special meal at the dining room table. It is when we truly let him in, all the way in to those intimate parts of our lives that we are shown how we are living, how habits and routines need to be changed if there is to be a place for him.

And no matter how much you love him, it isn’t always easy. It takes some work, and you are probably going to forget that plates need to be rinsed when you put them in the sink instead of leaving them on the coffee table, but the good news is he loves you enough not to go storming out the first or fifth time you screw it up. He doesn’t forget that he loves you just because he impaled his foot on a four inch high heel, and he isn’t out to change who you are. He simply wants you to have the best life possible, and usually that means change.

The question is how much do we trust him? Can we look at that mirror he shows us and know that it isn’t out of spite or malice that he presents us this image? Can we hold on to the love that desires only the best for us even when it is painful? Can we accept that we get things wrong, that we make mistakes, or that simply to move into our destiny we have to live a life where there is room for him and all things that come with him?

Marriage is one of God’s favorite images for his relationship with us because he wants to be that intimate. He wants to move out of the living room and see the bedroom that needs to be dusted. He wants a place to hang his shirts in your closet, and he has to have spot for his toothbrush by yours. And when you give him that you get so much more than you can ever imagine.

When God Does the Dishes

Waiting makes me sick, not in some abstract way, but in a very real gut wrenching, stomach twisting way. I am not talking about waiting in line or waiting on traffic. I am talking about waiting to see how things are going to turn out, how things are going to be accomplished. I want all the facts in my hand, and I want to arrive at a brilliant conclusion.

It’s the limbo that drives me crazy. It is what keeps me awake at nights and causes me to say and do stupid things. I have this thing in my brain that says if you talk about a problem long enough it will all work out. The thing is sometimes I just need to shut up and see how things are going to turn out. But like I said, I hate waiting. Talking seems to offer me at least the illusion of being proactive in the situation, (that should be read as “in control of the situation”, the other way just sounds better), when all I am really doing is muddying the waters.

Now God is faithful, and He has a way of taking our flaws and working them over. Usually this means He is going to provide us with lots of opportunities to get it right, which really means He is going to give us lots of opportunities to fail. And I tend to make the most of these chances, which means I usually fail in creative and new ways.

I am having to learn that God’s time is not my time. I keep telling Him if He would speed things up a bit I could get so much more done, but He has yet to take my advice, go figure. I know that is Sunday School lesson 101, but there is a huge difference in remembering and knowing. I know that He has it all under control and He will take care of me, but I hate the fact that His perfect way of doing things means I am left twisting in the wind a little too often to suit my tastes.

Honestly, it is probably a good thing that I was not one of the people walking around the walls of Jericho. I don’t think I could have kept my mouth shut for seven days. About the third time around, I would have been looking for a pick axe because I would have been sure that Joshua misheard the directions and we needed to be busy doing something more productive than waiting on God. By the fourth time around, I would have probably trying to get Joshua to stop and explain all that nonsense to me one more time. And the fifth time, I would at least be sure that I was scuffing away little more sand from the base of wall with each step, if I hadn’t decided to wash my hands of the whole thing.

Fortunately for me, God hasn’t called me to undergo such a grueling ordeal. Right now we are working on the small stuff. I let Him dry my dishes. He takes forever, but eventually He gets the job done. And let me tell you it is torture. No matter how much I nag Him, He never picks up the pace, but I am getting better.

Learning to wait isn’t about trying to slip into some comatose state of being. It is about finding out how deep your trust really goes. It is about learning how to separate the things you are responsible for from the things that you aren’t. It is about finding that balance between sheer laziness and finding peace in the midst of the unknown. It is about acknowledging He is God and you aren’t.

For me it is the ultimate position of surrender. It is not restful or serene. It is an act of sheer will most of the time. Not because I don’t think God can handle it, but rather I think I can handle it better. I don’t like turning loose of control, real or perceived. I like to think that my actions are what affect change, that somehow God can’t get it done without me. It is a time where I have to put down my pride and my own sense of accomplishment. At these times I have to lay aside all the attributes that my friends usually praise me for so that He can receive the glory.

I have to step out of the spot light for a moment and stand in awe of Him. I need to experience the wonder of what He can do apart from me, and if the Grand Canyon is any indication He’s got it covered in ways that I can only begin to imagine. And if I need to talk about it that’s okay too, as long as I take my conversation to Him. He understands I am impatient, and sometimes I think He even finds the quality a little endearing, but He knows that I need to learn how to simply be with Him. Because that is right where He wants me, there at His side witnessing what He wants to accomplish in my life.