what's the difference between worry and being responsible?
for example: now that i don't have a second job and i just collected that last pay check, i currently have a very set income. an income, mind you, that realistically, doesn't even leave me enough room to tithe. (not that i have been very good at that before this. what can i say? i like my money. and besides, is not what I'm doing a MAJOR gift of my time and talents already?? isn't that enough!? but that's another tangent.) i do have some cushion room because i did work my ass off for 6 months. but me, i'm a goal setter. especially with money. i see that i have approx. 2500 in my bank account. i have 4 months left. i think i can live on what i make each month, if i don't tithe. i would love to walk away with at least 2000 in my bank account in december. That's what would be left if i tithe out of my savings. if i don't have any emergencies/tickets/you name it. so realistically that leaves me with $60/wk. if i tithe out of my actual pay check, its only $40/wk (after the bills). not sure that's possible to live on. anyways, you get the point.
this is what my brain has been spending much of its energy on in the last week or so. and quite realistically will for the next 4 months. i'm not really worried about it...yet. right now its still a game, a challenge. and i still have the security of that extra money in my bank account. so if i do mess up aka get a ticket (very realistic), have my car break down (which my parents will probably pay for but another realistic possiblity), go to the doctor, break something, have to buy art supplies, overspend with friends, the list goes on, i will have money for it.
no matter what i sure spend a lot of time calculating.
at what point does the calculating cross the line from being responsible to worry?
i've spent a lot of time from December to June calculating. calculating money, calculating jobs, calculating plans, calculating time, even calculating my heart. and none of it got me anywhere. do you hear me? ANYWHERE. no amount of thinking, planning, or calculating answered any of my questions. it didn't leave me with more peace-it left me with less. it didn't give me more answers, it gave me more questions. it didn't open doors; it actually slammed them in my face. and while i sought after God in all of it, i sought after Him with my plans in mind, asking Him to confirm my ideas. and He laughed at me, not in ridicule or spite, but with a jolly chuckle, shaking His head in amusement at my scurrying attempts to help Him in His work in my life. Such feeble attempts they were in comparison to His incomprehensible hands, no wonder I felt frustrated. Only once I threw up my hands, my entire body, in utter defeat could He pick me up, wipe the tears from my eyes, and begin drawing my picture for me.
hm. so maybe i should stop calculating.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Comfortable in my own skin
i went backpacking on the Appalacian Trail this last weekend.
2 days notice.
hardly any forethought.
just because i had told myself about a month ago:
you should look into taking a backpacking trip.
so i said yes.
the most physically challenging thing i've ever done.
carrying a backpack about a third your weight will do that to you.
and borrowing hiking boots that give you blisters only contributes.
but none of that stopped me from probably having the best experience i've had since moving out here (besides going home to michigan). i don't think i have ever felt more comfortable with myself among such a diverse group of people in such an incredibly short period of time. completely unexpected
the possible discomfort of a trip with complete strangers didn't even cross my mind until i pulled up to the lodge thursday morning. then it was, oh shit, what did i get myself into?
but after the initial awkwardness of the first day, i found a group of people who found me funny.
go figure. me-funny. my sarcasm was actually appreciated/understood. and my forgetfulness/clumsiness, a group joke, not a curse.
haven't had that in a long time.
i found a group of people who i could learn from; yet were still willing to learn. i was reminded of what it's like to be with educators. we never stop learning.
i found a group of people who took care of me. it was essential. i couldn't take care of myself. they noticed me. and did something about it. they were incredibly present.
do you know the last time someone took care of me?
the last time someone really noticed me?
noticed and did something about it?
i haven't been seen, really seen, in years.
i haven't allowed myself to be.
the last time i really let myself be seen and taken care of, it was all wrong. the privilege was taken from me by persuasion and guilt, handed over reluctantly. never given freely. i've been hesitant ever since. i hide behind responsibility, duty, everybody else's ignorance, and lies. quite honestly everyone else is just too busy to see through the facade. and even if they notice, they all too often don't have the time and/or tools to do it well.
i love to play; to discover and create. i want to be free. but life gets in the way. i long to be childlike; unassuming; space to move and just be. i shouldn't be put in a cage.
backpacking let me be just that.
the people let me be just that.
free.
2 days notice.
hardly any forethought.
just because i had told myself about a month ago:
you should look into taking a backpacking trip.
so i said yes.
the most physically challenging thing i've ever done.
carrying a backpack about a third your weight will do that to you.
and borrowing hiking boots that give you blisters only contributes.
but none of that stopped me from probably having the best experience i've had since moving out here (besides going home to michigan). i don't think i have ever felt more comfortable with myself among such a diverse group of people in such an incredibly short period of time. completely unexpected
the possible discomfort of a trip with complete strangers didn't even cross my mind until i pulled up to the lodge thursday morning. then it was, oh shit, what did i get myself into?
but after the initial awkwardness of the first day, i found a group of people who found me funny.
go figure. me-funny. my sarcasm was actually appreciated/understood. and my forgetfulness/clumsiness, a group joke, not a curse.
haven't had that in a long time.
i found a group of people who i could learn from; yet were still willing to learn. i was reminded of what it's like to be with educators. we never stop learning.
i found a group of people who took care of me. it was essential. i couldn't take care of myself. they noticed me. and did something about it. they were incredibly present.
do you know the last time someone took care of me?
the last time someone really noticed me?
noticed and did something about it?
i haven't been seen, really seen, in years.
i haven't allowed myself to be.
the last time i really let myself be seen and taken care of, it was all wrong. the privilege was taken from me by persuasion and guilt, handed over reluctantly. never given freely. i've been hesitant ever since. i hide behind responsibility, duty, everybody else's ignorance, and lies. quite honestly everyone else is just too busy to see through the facade. and even if they notice, they all too often don't have the time and/or tools to do it well.
i love to play; to discover and create. i want to be free. but life gets in the way. i long to be childlike; unassuming; space to move and just be. i shouldn't be put in a cage.
backpacking let me be just that.
the people let me be just that.
free.
Monday, July 19, 2010
1500 miles later....
After
1500 miles &
3 weeks,
I'm left with a
1/2 filled gas tank
1 runny nose
2 bleary eyes &
1000 memories.
Here I stand--correction: kneel,
grateful for all that I have been given.
My life will never be the same.
Old chapters are closed with a sigh of relief.
New doors are opening.
Hope is on the horizon.
I never expected life to be thrown into such utter contrast and sharp clarity. I never expected to be so broken and so healed--cathartic. And I most definitely never expected to find home.
It's funny how we say things even when we're not really sure we mean it. I do it all the time--exaggerate, excuse, boast, bemoan. And then I kick myself because I really do like to mean what I say and say what I mean. But the more I think about what I say and who I have become, it seems to be more of a self-fulfilling prophecy, a proclamation once spoken that must come true. I recall vows I made or words I felt that I spoke rashly in the last say 5 years and then I evaluate my life and realize maybe I wasn't that far off.
Example: Last summer when introducing myself at church, I named my hometown as Lawton MI. I'm not really sure why I said it to this day and afterwards I regretted it because of the comments and jibes I received. But after these last two weeks, I realized how true it is. And I realized that's what I've been running from.
How dare I find the place I want to call home before I've lived hardly anywhere else. How dare I
settle on a relatively small town in the Midwest in one of the states with the worst economy in the nation. How dare I move in with a family after I've moved out of my own. That just couldn't be. So I ran.
If I hadn't ran, I would never have considered going back contented with the reality God has called me to. Had I not ran, I would not have returned confident in who I am a part from any job, friend, or family. Had I not ran, I would most certainly have never learned the absolute value of people. I would never have been given the unique opportunity and privilege to choose lasting relationships over adventure, success, and power, fully aware of the decision, not paralyzed by fear but empowered by grace.
If I am to say, as I have always said somewhat prophetically, that I am about people more than about a job, success, power, money, or anything else this world has to offer, then I cannot treat individuals as disposable. I cannot be this person that floats in and out of people's lives. My nature is to wedge myself into people's lives, leaving an indelible mark, even when I try not to. That was my theoretical paradigm but I have realized my theory and reality didn't match. A paradigm shift was required. 6 months ago, looking for a job, I said to myself, I can love any kid, any person anywhere. I will move wherever I please and just work with the people there for that time and then move on. Essentially, adventure and experience trumped people and relationships. I was willing to sacrifice meaningful relationship to the god of I've done this and I've been there; be jealous. So here I sit. Alone. In a place that makes me long for somewhere called home, having once again left the real relationships behind. God has had His way with me.
I am meant to be somewhere, not just float by.
I will open myself to the possibility of the long term.
I will consider quality over quantity.
I will stop trying to save the world.
I will just be me, a person who needs the support and love of a solid Christian community of all depths and ages to be the best that she can be in a simple, beautiful world uncomplicated by time, deadlines, and the race to success with wide, open spaces to breathe.
You don't realize what a good thing you had until you've lost it.
1500 miles &
3 weeks,
I'm left with a
1/2 filled gas tank
1 runny nose
2 bleary eyes &
1000 memories.
Here I stand--correction: kneel,
grateful for all that I have been given.
My life will never be the same.
Old chapters are closed with a sigh of relief.
New doors are opening.
Hope is on the horizon.
I never expected life to be thrown into such utter contrast and sharp clarity. I never expected to be so broken and so healed--cathartic. And I most definitely never expected to find home.
It's funny how we say things even when we're not really sure we mean it. I do it all the time--exaggerate, excuse, boast, bemoan. And then I kick myself because I really do like to mean what I say and say what I mean. But the more I think about what I say and who I have become, it seems to be more of a self-fulfilling prophecy, a proclamation once spoken that must come true. I recall vows I made or words I felt that I spoke rashly in the last say 5 years and then I evaluate my life and realize maybe I wasn't that far off.
Example: Last summer when introducing myself at church, I named my hometown as Lawton MI. I'm not really sure why I said it to this day and afterwards I regretted it because of the comments and jibes I received. But after these last two weeks, I realized how true it is. And I realized that's what I've been running from.
How dare I find the place I want to call home before I've lived hardly anywhere else. How dare I
settle on a relatively small town in the Midwest in one of the states with the worst economy in the nation. How dare I move in with a family after I've moved out of my own. That just couldn't be. So I ran.
If I hadn't ran, I would never have considered going back contented with the reality God has called me to. Had I not ran, I would not have returned confident in who I am a part from any job, friend, or family. Had I not ran, I would most certainly have never learned the absolute value of people. I would never have been given the unique opportunity and privilege to choose lasting relationships over adventure, success, and power, fully aware of the decision, not paralyzed by fear but empowered by grace.
If I am to say, as I have always said somewhat prophetically, that I am about people more than about a job, success, power, money, or anything else this world has to offer, then I cannot treat individuals as disposable. I cannot be this person that floats in and out of people's lives. My nature is to wedge myself into people's lives, leaving an indelible mark, even when I try not to. That was my theoretical paradigm but I have realized my theory and reality didn't match. A paradigm shift was required. 6 months ago, looking for a job, I said to myself, I can love any kid, any person anywhere. I will move wherever I please and just work with the people there for that time and then move on. Essentially, adventure and experience trumped people and relationships. I was willing to sacrifice meaningful relationship to the god of I've done this and I've been there; be jealous. So here I sit. Alone. In a place that makes me long for somewhere called home, having once again left the real relationships behind. God has had His way with me.
I am meant to be somewhere, not just float by.
I will open myself to the possibility of the long term.
I will consider quality over quantity.
I will stop trying to save the world.
I will just be me, a person who needs the support and love of a solid Christian community of all depths and ages to be the best that she can be in a simple, beautiful world uncomplicated by time, deadlines, and the race to success with wide, open spaces to breathe.
You don't realize what a good thing you had until you've lost it.
Monday, July 12, 2010
answers
I always answer. always.
whether I should or not, I always do.
God, why can't I just keep my mouth shut?
That's all I've been doing the last 6 months.
answering.
looking for answers.
running from answers.
forging my own answers.
forging.
there's a great word to describe my answers.
forgery.
I don't actually have the answers so I make up my own.
and they fail every time. but sometimes it takes awhile for them to fail--a week, a month, a few months. or rather I talk myself into my answers so well that I really do think they are the answers. until they slap me in the face. repeatedly. because after all, I can't get it the first time.
that's where I am. slapped. repeatedly. empty handed. dreams ripped out. abandoned.
who would ask for anything more?
apparently, I do.
I have nowhere to go. and yet everywhere. I have no answers and yet all of them. I know You have them, but You are strangely silent, letting me wander around, knocking on every door, following my own pursuits in utter frustration. I don't know how to do anything else.
I have been humbled.
I have been brought to the depths of utter despair, fully aware that all of my answers have brought me there. my search for adventure, excitement, experience, power, money, success, and pride. I am without any answers. I feel as if I have tried everything I know.
and found lacking.
whether I should or not, I always do.
God, why can't I just keep my mouth shut?
That's all I've been doing the last 6 months.
answering.
looking for answers.
running from answers.
forging my own answers.
forging.
there's a great word to describe my answers.
forgery.
I don't actually have the answers so I make up my own.
and they fail every time. but sometimes it takes awhile for them to fail--a week, a month, a few months. or rather I talk myself into my answers so well that I really do think they are the answers. until they slap me in the face. repeatedly. because after all, I can't get it the first time.
that's where I am. slapped. repeatedly. empty handed. dreams ripped out. abandoned.
who would ask for anything more?
apparently, I do.
I have nowhere to go. and yet everywhere. I have no answers and yet all of them. I know You have them, but You are strangely silent, letting me wander around, knocking on every door, following my own pursuits in utter frustration. I don't know how to do anything else.
I have been humbled.
I have been brought to the depths of utter despair, fully aware that all of my answers have brought me there. my search for adventure, excitement, experience, power, money, success, and pride. I am without any answers. I feel as if I have tried everything I know.
and found lacking.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
it just adds up sometimes
you know what stinks about life?
that there are always dishes to do,
the clothes don't fold themselves,
and EVERYTHING always gets dirty.
always. without fail.
and I have to take care of it. me.
I hate taking care of those things
because it's a problem that never solves itself.
where's the sense of accomplishment in washing the dishes if right after you finish, you prepare dinner and make more dirty dishes? there is none! and by the time I finish eating, I'm too tired to clean up. And who wants to do dishes in a sink that is under a stairwell anyways?
bah humbug.
don't even get me started on doing laundry.
why does life have to be consumed by these details? why are they such a chore? why can't I stay on top of them? why is it an endless battle with myself--one I'm constantly losing?
in so many ways these last two weeks I have felt like I can't see past these details. not just in my housekeeping, but in everything. I am consumed by the small things: the heat, the humidity, the laundry, the dishes, what my next drink should be (I literally calculate how and what I should get from which coffee shop or store that will satisfy my particular craving the best), what time I should go to bed, what time I should get up, how much gas I need, how much money I have for gas, what clothing I should wear, how much I need a hair cut, where I should get a haircut, how much money I should spend on a haircut, and the list goes and could become incredibly minute in detail if I allowed it. It is insane. It's tunnel vision at its worst. It's tunnel vision to the point where I become so frustrated with a student because I can't see past the sweat dripping down my back and can't bear to think of driving yet another block around this wretched city, just to satisfy her endless craving to be with me. A craving that I can never fully satisfy. It's tunnel vision because I can't bear to think past the details to the larger implications. I can't process what it means to that student that I let her down yet again--for the hundredth time in a world where all she has known is disappointment. Not because I am not capable--because I am quite capable.
No. I have had too much of reality. too much. I have seen too much. I have heard too much. I know too much. And I just can't take anymore. I cannot ingest another injustice. I cannot stomach another heartache. I cannot absorb any more abandonment. It's nobody's fault. And yet everyone's. I have taken it from every side. I have been stretched beyond what I thought stretchable. And I am still here. But I feel as if I can't take another step. I feel as if I can't care for another heartache no matter how small. I feel as if the battle has been decided before it was ever fought. and I've lost. until...
Until she sits on my lap, lays her head next to mine and whispers in my ear.
Until he grabs my hand in fear as he climbs his first mountain.
Until she compulsively reaches for a hug because words are not enough.
Until she says "I'll call you later" and really does.
Until he smiles for a picture you never thought he'd take.
And then you think and pray I will never be enough for these children but Lord, may I just be a piece, a piece in their puzzle, because they are already a huge one in mine.
that there are always dishes to do,
the clothes don't fold themselves,
and EVERYTHING always gets dirty.
always. without fail.
and I have to take care of it. me.
I hate taking care of those things
because it's a problem that never solves itself.
where's the sense of accomplishment in washing the dishes if right after you finish, you prepare dinner and make more dirty dishes? there is none! and by the time I finish eating, I'm too tired to clean up. And who wants to do dishes in a sink that is under a stairwell anyways?
bah humbug.
don't even get me started on doing laundry.
why does life have to be consumed by these details? why are they such a chore? why can't I stay on top of them? why is it an endless battle with myself--one I'm constantly losing?
in so many ways these last two weeks I have felt like I can't see past these details. not just in my housekeeping, but in everything. I am consumed by the small things: the heat, the humidity, the laundry, the dishes, what my next drink should be (I literally calculate how and what I should get from which coffee shop or store that will satisfy my particular craving the best), what time I should go to bed, what time I should get up, how much gas I need, how much money I have for gas, what clothing I should wear, how much I need a hair cut, where I should get a haircut, how much money I should spend on a haircut, and the list goes and could become incredibly minute in detail if I allowed it. It is insane. It's tunnel vision at its worst. It's tunnel vision to the point where I become so frustrated with a student because I can't see past the sweat dripping down my back and can't bear to think of driving yet another block around this wretched city, just to satisfy her endless craving to be with me. A craving that I can never fully satisfy. It's tunnel vision because I can't bear to think past the details to the larger implications. I can't process what it means to that student that I let her down yet again--for the hundredth time in a world where all she has known is disappointment. Not because I am not capable--because I am quite capable.
No. I have had too much of reality. too much. I have seen too much. I have heard too much. I know too much. And I just can't take anymore. I cannot ingest another injustice. I cannot stomach another heartache. I cannot absorb any more abandonment. It's nobody's fault. And yet everyone's. I have taken it from every side. I have been stretched beyond what I thought stretchable. And I am still here. But I feel as if I can't take another step. I feel as if I can't care for another heartache no matter how small. I feel as if the battle has been decided before it was ever fought. and I've lost. until...
Until she sits on my lap, lays her head next to mine and whispers in my ear.
Until he grabs my hand in fear as he climbs his first mountain.
Until she compulsively reaches for a hug because words are not enough.
Until she says "I'll call you later" and really does.
Until he smiles for a picture you never thought he'd take.
And then you think and pray I will never be enough for these children but Lord, may I just be a piece, a piece in their puzzle, because they are already a huge one in mine.
Monday, June 21, 2010
eager expectation with hope
i need to write something--
but i'm too tired.
i need to make sense/put something down in carbon
but i've been dragged through a ringer.
life requires that we process what has happened to us--
or so our generation says.
sometimes i wonder if the silence to which the previous generations adhered wasn't such a bad idea.
not that i talk.
no i just think.
and i'm exhausted.
i have thought about more things in the last 2 months living alone than i have ever in my entire life.
no joke.
it is good.
it is necessary.
it is healing.
but it also leaves one feeling incredibly exhausted, wondering why. because after all, what have i done but sit.
i like being alone. alone with my thoughts. alone with myself. even if i don't always spend it well. i don't write enough. i don't paint enough. i don't pray enough. it will never been enough. yet i still wait in eager expectation with hope.
hope that some day
it will bring peace.
but i'm too tired.
i need to make sense/put something down in carbon
but i've been dragged through a ringer.
life requires that we process what has happened to us--
or so our generation says.
sometimes i wonder if the silence to which the previous generations adhered wasn't such a bad idea.
not that i talk.
no i just think.
and i'm exhausted.
i have thought about more things in the last 2 months living alone than i have ever in my entire life.
no joke.
it is good.
it is necessary.
it is healing.
but it also leaves one feeling incredibly exhausted, wondering why. because after all, what have i done but sit.
i like being alone. alone with my thoughts. alone with myself. even if i don't always spend it well. i don't write enough. i don't paint enough. i don't pray enough. it will never been enough. yet i still wait in eager expectation with hope.
hope that some day
it will bring peace.
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