Thankful

I read a great comment on a blog today about the balance between counting our blessings and making noise/taking action in the face of injustice. She pointed out the truth that if women hadn’t made a ruckus, we might still be counting our blessings and unable to vote!  I think that reader had it right. I believe it’s a good thing, always and everywhere, to count our blessings. Gratitude is a powerful state of awareness and a magical state of being. And Lord… may my prayers of gratitude today lift me up, sustain me and give me strength to fight the good fight when that is what is called for.

so…these are a few of the things that I love today…

Technology: Oh how do I love my satellite dish and all that it brings into my living room. Lately, I am really hooked on the sermons of a preacher I found on one of the Christian networks awhile back.  He preaches at a church in Singapore of all things!  So, here I am in So-Cal getting blessed by the words of a man who lives on the other side of the world. Cool.  I am thankful for the internet which allows me to read about so many great and inspiring people; bloggers, writers, artists, thinkers, journalists, activists. What a blessing to be able to know of all these people and their work. Internet phone cards so I can communicate cheaply with my sweetheart, especially as we are waiting for Costa Rica to get with it and hook up communications with outside phone companies.  And finally, a shout out to my beloved Tour. Kiss kiss to my new phone, even if she is smarter than I am.

People: My friends. Each one brings a special gift; insight, clarity, compassion, thoughtfulness, generosity, prayerfulness… there would be no life worth having without the love of my girls. My therapists and doctors, current and past, without whom I would not be here  to tell my story. The generosity of people who have looked after me while traveling, the friendly faces at my neighborhood coffee place, pastors who have unpacked the words in our book in ways that have forever changed the way I go about living in the world.  I am thankful for the man in my life whom I love and who loves me without reservation. People who are working to care for the world’s poor, rescuing girls caught in the sex trade industry, ministering to the sick and incarcerated.  Parents raising children and step-children. Praise God for all of them.

Stuff:  An apartment I love.  A job that I don’t, but that provides me both the time and money to support my alternate life in Central America. Vietnamese coffees, taco trucks, pens and notebooks, Simple shoes and my cozy quilt from Anthropologie.

I have a million things to count as blessings…each day brings new things to appreciate. Everyday things like a roof over my head and food to eat, an accident avoided.  Or sometimes a more exceptional experience…like the joy of sitting in a Costa Rican thunderstorm, sensing God’s grace and love pouring out on me, felt as clearly and as real to me as the actual rain.  May I remember to pay attention to these things and give thanks to the one who makes it all possible.

 

Caution: Contents may contain sharp edges

I planned to spend today’s therapy session chatting about my upcoming vacation, nothing too heavy or disruptive before I get on the plane.  It appears that God and my psyche had another plan.

For a few weeks I have been really out of sorts and feeling unable to get to the bottom of what is bugging. Short spells of crying interspersed with being rather edgy and having a short-fuse…but no real clear idea about what was stirring me up. I am prone to getting a little (or a lot) depressed this time of the year. Shorter days, holidays approaching, a little of this and of that.

I should have known. You would think that after about a million years in therapy, I would know that when this starts going on, some leftover splinter is working its way towards the surface. Maybe this would cause me to have some compassion for myself instead of the boring ‘what the fuck is your problem’ conversation. Maybe someday.

Sunday I went to my old Vineyard church for an amazing 90 minutes of worship.  I expected to go sit in the mercy pit and have a crying fit, pour out whatever was hurting to Jesus, leave washed clean.  Nope…no tears…not yet. I left feeling clear and uplifted, somehow knowing everything is unfolding exactly as it should be. Grace.  Monday morning I woke up mad and sad and like Sunday never happened.

This morning  (its now Friday for those of you who are keeping track) I woke up after having a devastating dream about my mother who has been dead now for 15 years.  After about a million years in therapy I do at least know better than to try and avoid a message like this (don’t think I wasn’t tempted). I talked to my therapist about the feelings of betrayal, grief and anger that were evoked in this dream and I cried for the entire 45 minutes.  Cried so much I felt sick. I didn’t do the ‘why this again?’ dance of avoidance, but just did my best to sit with it, let the Holy Spirit sit with me and minister to my heart. It was incredibly painful.

Here’s the deal though: when I woke up from this dream today, as I was saying a little prayer before I rolled out of bed, I knew that dream was a gift, and that is not just some spiritual chatter. I knew. I wasn’t sure what it meant and I didn’t know what was ahead, but I could feel it in my soul, the truth of this.

We forget to mention when we are talking about God’s mercy and goodness that, sometimes, it is sharp. Jesus speaks of coming with a sword and it is not all roses, sunshine and glory attacks. That splinter of grief and betrayal needed to come out of my heart. The pus of self-hatred, defensiveness and resentments needed to drain. I love that he is so relentless about our freedom that he will let us walk through some really hard things…including, yes…another trip around the mountain of healing from the past…to get us to where we want to be. Free.

As I am here tonight, resting up after a tough morning and a long day at work, I can feel the post-surgical spaciousness left in my heart. I’m off to Costa Rica on Sunday to see my sweetheart, more able to love and let love in. Feeling very grateful and glad that one is over.

See you when I get back.

poco a poco

When I started my first Spanish class at the local community college a couple of years back, the first thing our professor taught us was this phrase: poco a poco, se va lejos.  Translated…little by little, one goes far. For me, learning a 2nd language is a source of both big joy and endless frustration. Practicing things on a daily basis is sometimes a drag and often it feels like you are going nowhere fast. But in the end Señor Avocado Fountain was right. Daily small steps and consistent practice gets one further than cramming 4 hours the night before the exam.  Sometimes you can even find yourself waiting for your bus…in a drenching rainstorm…in the middle of the jungle…and actually understanding everything that is being said to you in Spanish. It is a magical moment.

Tonight I was writing out my frustrated prayers complaints over the lack of vision I have for my vocational life and I started to think about the situation with my relationship (totally the Holy Spirit). I fell in love when I was in Costa Rica this spring. He and I have continued to stay in touch, I am getting ready to make a 2nd trip down there to see him again and it’s mostly amazing and sweet. Here’s the thing: I have zero idea about where this will end up or how it would ever work out for us to be together. While the circumstances that kept us together while I was down there clearly had heaven’s hand on them, it was complicated in lots of ways that would be a whole other post! Anyway, because it was such upheaval for me, all I could do was put the whole mess in God’s hands. Over and over I prayed…I don’t know what to do with this…here…you take it. If we are to be together then I pray your blessings on us, on this relationship, that you use it to your purpose. Lift us up Lord to a higher place.  If not, then help us just let it go. I still do it, all the time. When my internet phone card disconnects our calls three times in 5 minutes.  When the language differences are getting on someone’s nerves. Whether I am absolutely rolling in happiness or sure this is just a crazy mistake. And you know what? It’s mostly EASY.  I can feel grace all over the whole thing…top to bottom. I trust that God is working something out here, even if I don’t know what.  Day by day…we walk it out. Step by step…little by little…we are building a relationship.

You know, I could do that with this mess I call vocation too.  Pray over and over…here…you take it. Trust more deeply. Quit thinking it’s all on me to sort it out.  Practice everyday…trusting, writing, placing my life in his hands. Yes, yes I could.

Tell me more

I’ve been back at my old job for several weeks, helping finish up the season. I had just mentioned to a friend that it would be good to have something to do for a few weeks to earn some money before the end of the year and this job literally dropped on me a couple of days later. The money is good, stress minimal.  Nothing there has changed except me. So much of what used to drive me crazy doesn’t seem all that important anymore. God has done a good work in me in 2009, momentum and power, healing and expanding. I am truly grateful that I when I look back at this year, I don’t have to say that nothing has changed. I am not stuck, praise God.

Now it is time for me to decide if I want to return for the final year of the season (I work in television production) in 2010. It seems as if the word from God is that it doesn’t really matter whether I go or stay…either way…it’s all grace.  Sometimes I think it would be completely crazy not to go back. I would have lots of time off, plenty of money and a very low stress job compared to most who do what I do. At other times I am certain my spirit will just die if I stay. As if the whole work of leaving this job last year, trying to find something to do in the service of God’s kingdom, will be a big flipping failure if I just end up back where I started. Yes, I am a very all or nothing, black or white sort of girl. The truth is that there are positives and negatives to both sides of the issue. The way I am going to get to my ‘ground truth’ (a phrase I love from the book “Fierce Conversations”)  is to keep asking the right questions…writing, praying and talking to the people who love me.

I have this tendency, when people are telling me about something they are wrestling with, to jump in and give my two cents.  Usually before they ask for my opinion, probably before they are done talking or thinking it out for themselves. As if I know what is better for anyone else anyway…please.  This phrase ‘tell me more’  popped into my awareness last week. I like it and want to incorporate it into my life. I know this is how God is listening…tell me more, I am here with you, take all the time you need,  I love you and together we will sort this out. I want to be a better listener, both to myself and to the people I love, as always…hoping that God is conforming me to his own heart.