sleeping with smartphones

I'm sure you've seen those studies that say our smartphones make us tired. Because they're attached to our faces even while we're trying to sleep, our brains don't go into proper shut-down mode and we have a harder time falling and staying asleep.  (This is a very scientific and technical explanation. You're welcome.)

My roommate (and fellow coffee slave) uses his smartphone as his alarm, and so he has to keep it plugged in next to his bed.  I, however, am old-school, and have a digital alarm clock that awakens me long before the crack of dawn with the sweet sounds of whatever crackly top-40 or country twang station I can pick up with a crappy clock-radio antenna in the middle of nowhere. (I think waking up to the radio is better than the traditional beeping noise, though the other day the first song that came on was that wretched "turn down for what" nonsense and that's a tough call.) But I have been in the habit of using Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest as my bedtime stories, not-lulling me to sleep with their glowing electronic nonsense, and have kept my phone by my bedside.

But for about a week now, I've been leaving my phone to charge in the kitchen at night. And shockingly, I do think I sleep better! I'm still a little worried that I might miss a phone call from work if I oversleep, or the power goes out and resets my alarm clock. I get up super early to caffeinate the rest of the world on their way to work... But really, it's just coffee. And they'd probably just call my roommate to wake me up anyway.

Tattooed

I got a tattoo a few months ago.

*this is not my tattoo*

I think tattoos are cool.  When I was younger -- when I would have needed a parent's permission to get one -- I swore that as soon as I turned 18 I was going to go out and get all tatted up.  But as cool as I thought they were, I'm not a terribly impulsive person, and I actually understood the permanence of a tattoo.  I could never come up with the perfect location, or the perfect thing for my tattoo.  So I never got one.

Fast forward to a few months ago, just before my 30th birthday, I realized that I had been wanting a tattoo for more than 12 years, and still didn't have one!  Thirty is kind of a milestone birthday, and I decided it was time.  I pondered it for less than a week.  I went to the tattoo parlor by myself one Saturday afternoon, and just did it.


It's a song lyric on the inside of my arm.  It didn't hurt that bad.  If you can imagine someone drawing on your arm with a needle... That's pretty much what it felt like.
I'm very happy with it, though it turned out to be much more visible than I originally wanted.  Part of the reason I waited so long to get a tattoo was because I couldn't come up with that perfect location:  easily coverable, and equally show-off-able.  In the end I think my arm was a good choice.  If I wear a normal tshirt, it's slightly visible.  But I've been on the hunt for summer-ish shirts with elbow-length sleeves, because I prefer to keep it covered most of the time.

I realize that seems silly:  Why did I get the tattoo in the first place if I was just going to cover it up?  But I want it to be my choice.  In the end, I didn't get the tattoo for anyone except me.  It makes me happy, and that's enough.  If I'm honest, sometimes I'm hoping that it will impress people.  I have to keep it covered at work, which doesn't bother me much, except that I had to get rid of a few polos and I sweat a bit more wearing long sleeves in 90 degree heat.  I also have a part-time office job, and I try to keep it covered there because it doesn't seem professional to me.  But I'm starting a leadership position at a children's ministry in a couple weeks, and I realized that I'll keep it covered there, too.  Not because it's required (I haven't asked),  but because I realized that I really don't want to be told that I have to cover it.  I like having it as a fun secret that I can reveal if I so choose.

Maybe sometime I'll show you a picture of it... :)

start living now

A few days ago I was having one of those awesome, deep road-trip conversations with my mom. We were talking about the college ministry I work with, and all the transition we've experienced this year. And I started freaking out and crying because while sometimes I feel certain that God has called me to this work and this place, other times I am terrified that I've made a huge mistake and I have no business trying to do what I do. I don't know what I'm doing, the guy I've been coleading with is transitioning out of leadership and what happens when I mess it up and the ministry dies because I'm lazy and I hate talking to new people?

My freak-out isn't that uncommon. Every few months it seems like I start second guessing my choice of career and then consequently all my life choices. I'm almost 30. I'm single and I have a super messy roommate who drives me bonkers. I don't have any major debt but I'm also constantly broke. Things have been weird with my best friend since she started dating someone. I get paid next to nothing to wake up at 3am to go make coffee for people, and the rest of my salary is me asking people for money (also known as support raising).  Life is hard.

So I freak out for a while, but in a few days I manage to sort things out, to remember that I love the work I do, both with coffee and with college ministry. My family loves me and is incredibly generous with me. I love my house and I have a pair of very affectionate cats to keep me company at night. I am satisfied with the life I've been given. 

Today the sun is shining, and I got a few extra hours of sleep because my roommate volunteered to work the opening shift. I've been working out and eating healthy. Life feels good today, and I even started to dream about the future. What is my dream for the college ministry? What are my dreams for myself? Turning 30 in just over a month feels like a big deal, because I thought I would feel like a real adult, and that I'd have my life together. But the more I talk about it, the more people keep telling me I'm so young. I guess it's starting to sink in. I look at the older people around me, my parents and the ladies in my Bible study group (some more than twice my age!) and my aunts & uncles and the people at my church -- and they are living. They are enjoying a full and happy life.
I've always kind of looked forward to being old. Having a lifetime of experiences and the wisdom that comes with it is terribly appealing. But I won't have rich experiences and learn from my mistakes and become wise and deep without LIVING a little bit before I get old. So instead of thinking about how I've failed, or how my life is still a mess at 30, I'm starting to think about what I can do from here. How else do I want to grow professionally? What's my dream for the future of my ministry? What have I always wanted to do?  What things bring me deep joy, and how can I do more of them?  How can I live fuller NOW?

praise flows out

Prayer is hard.

Or is prayer easy?

I think it's both.  It's as simple as having a conversation with God, and yet it is complicated enough for there to be scores of books on the subject.

If you've been around the church for any length of time, I'm sure you've heard prayer reduced to simple formulas that direct us "how-to" pray and get it right.  Acronyms like A.C.T.S. (adoration, confession, thanksgiving, supplication) and P.R.A.Y. (praise, repent, ask, yield) were tossed about frequently in my youth.  As I got older, I became interested in exploring more of my prayer-options, and have experimented with a variety of methods - body posture prayers, classical/historical prayers, liturgy, prayer walks and labyrinths, mandalas, and even coloring.  But no matter what form of prayer I tried, I always felt pressure to get it "right."

The problem was that when I sat down to pray, there was always a long laundry list of things that I was asking God to do for me, or areas I was asking him to work in, or people I was asking him to reveal himself to... I was always asking for something!  And I asked, because we all ask, for God to work in our lives because he does work in them.  But I had the feeling that I was supposed to balance out all my requests with praise and adoration, so that I wasn't just constantly asking him for things.  And I did try to make it more balanced.  I'm part of a Bible study group in which the leadership team prays corporately each week, and I've learned some great things from their model.  We begin with adoration, which simply means stating things about God that we know to be true!  God, you are holy, you are Provider, you are the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, you are Alpha and Omega, you are truth and light.  Sometimes I try to pray this way in my personal prayers.  But the problem is that all my concerns come rushing in, tripping over one another in their eagerness to be heard by God.

Today as I was driving to work, I had a prayer experience that changed my thoughts about some of those things.  (To first clarify, all those things that I sometimes struggle with in prayer are based in right thinking:  I don't want to only pray when I need something from God, it is good to have structure when it's needed, and we should worship and praise our Father in private prayer!)  Instead of trying to balance all the things I was asking for with the right amount of praise and adoration, I just prayed for what was weighing on my heart.  I asked God for his peace in the day, for his joy and energy and strength, and for other people and situations that I want to see him move in.  And as I came to the end of my requests, I felt the praise and adoration begin to flow freely in response to everything I had just asked him for.  My praise was natural, and not forced, because I knew I was praising a God who had just heard all that I asked for, and who wanted to answer me!  It flowed out of an safe place in my heart, and my trust that I had been heard and was loved.

He touched him

Last week my BSF group was studying Matthew 8.  It's the beginning of Jesus' public ministry teaching and healing people.  I've heard the stories many times before, but this time something jumped out at me that I'd never seen before.  Let's read:

When he came down from the mountainside, large crowds followed him.  A man with leprosy came and knelt before him and said, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean."  Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man.  "I am willing," he said.  "Be clean!"  Immediately he was cured of his leprosy.  Then Jesus said to him, "See that you don't tell anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the gift Moses commanded, as a testimony to them."  Matthew 8:1-4

Did you catch that?

He touched him.  The leper.

Jesus touched that unclean man who begged him for healing.

Later in the chapter, Jesus heals the centurion’s servant by speaking a word when he wasn’t even near him.  He didn’t have to touch the leper.  But he did.  Because Jesus, being Jesus, knew that what the man needed healing - but what he really needed was love, and compassion, and someone to tell him that he still mattered.  As a leper in that society, he was unclean, and anyone who came in contact with him also became unclean.  The leprous and diseased had a special place outside the city limits for them to live without bothering others, and if they did have to venture inside the city with the “normal” people, they were required to announce their presence as they walked through the streets so that no one would accidentally touch them.

Can you imagine how lonely that would be?

Jesus allowed the leper access back into society by healing him, but he touched him as an unclean man.  He touched him.

And he touches us.  In all of our dirt and scum and mess and sin, he touches us.  He isn’t afraid of becoming unclean, and he isn’t grossed out by us.  Despite what we see when we look in the mirror or in our hearts, when Jesus looks at us he sees the creatures that he made and loved, and he reaches down to touch us, covered in mess, and we are instantly cleansed.  

That can't be right...

Tomorrow is my 29th birthday.

This is a big deal... Because after 29 is 30.  And thirty is a real number.  A grown-up number.  A "have your life together" kind of number.  But that's a blog for another day.

Jess, E and I last summer in Seattle

A lot of cool people have birthdays in May.  When I lived in Pittsburgh, at least half a dozen in my circle of friends were May babies, and we would get together to celebrate birthdays, half-birthdays, and awesomeness.  Now I know and love even MORE wonderful people who were born in the best month (don't argue).  Two weeks before me is bestfriend birthday, the day after is Jess's birthday, and many many others.





I learned recently that this really cool blogger-lady named Joy the Baker is also a May baby!  This only makes her more awesome.  But I mention this because I love her recipes, her sass, and her perspective on life.  Go read her reflections on turning thirty-two.  The girl is spot on.  Particularly this part:

 I subscribe to the idea that working really hard and loving people better every day will get me where I want to be each day, week, month and year.  

 But not so much the part where she says that baking your own birthday cake is silly.  'Cuz I'm totally doing that.  Lemon Cake with Black Tea Frosting, thank you very much.  But then again, I'm not a food blogger, so it's probably different.

I like her idea about listing things she's gained perspective on during the past year.  Perhaps I'll include some of those when I finally write down that list I've been pondering about how to get my life together before I turn 30.  Stay tuned ;)

Also, just in case you were wondering...  Bestfriend makes the best mix CDs.

The Right Reasons

Lately, I've been working out pretty regularly. I am surprised at my consistency, because exercising has never been one of my favorite things to do. I always knew I could trick myself into it by playing some kind of team sport, but then I would get discouraged by how out of breath I was while playing, and how sore I was the next day. But there are several things I've discovered over the past couple months that have enabled me to stick with it this time around.

Schedule. One of the excuses I used to use was that I got off work too late, and after a long day I just wanted to go home and relax! Now, I am off by 1pm every day, and that consistency keeps me from wimping out. I've also discovered how to do an abbreviated workout when I don't have as much time, but still want to be active. I also know what things to do when I'm feeling sore from a previous workout and just don't want to move my feet! And that leads me to my next topic:

Stretching. It is a serious motivation killer to wake up the day after a good workout and feel like every muscle in your body hurts! I've taken to saving a good 10 or 15 minutes at the end of my workout just to stretch. Then, the next day, I actually WANT to go back and do it again!

The elderly. My gym is full of old people who are cute (the "aww" factor!), slow (no competition!), consistent (how inspiring!) and old! (They're not the typical gym rats who are already in perfect shape and just go to be admired by other perfectly in-shape people.)

Rockin' tunes. I have forgotten to bring my headphones a few times, and let me tell you, exercising without music is BORING! My top 5 kick-butt-motivating songs are:
"Turn Me On," David Guetta & Nicki Minaj
"Die Young," Ke$ha
"Brokenhearted," Karmin
"Big Mouth," Santigold
And my FAVORITE workout song (seriously, please add this to your playlist now, I promise you will want to run forever and conquer the world when you hear this) is
"Run the World (Girls)," Beyonce

(I just watched the video... It is weird but the song is totally a girl-power song.)

Motivation.  I've always known that I'm never going to be a small girl.  I'm "big-boned," as they used to say.  And when the motivation for working out is to lose weight or whatever...  Well, progress is hard to see, and I get impatient waiting for results.  I won't deny that I would like to go down a size or two, just to make buying jeans easier.  But it's easier to keep going back to the gym when the goal is to be strong and healthy, not tiny and thin.  And it's easier to notice the results!  My arms are more toned, I have the slightest hint of a bicep bulge, and I am batting better at softball games.  Work is easier, and my legs aren't as tired after standing for eight hours.  I'm more flexible!  All the ab work has made it more natural to tuck in my tummy.  And although I don't see any changes in my weight or the fit of my clothes (I have yet to get disciplined with my eating habits), I like being able to DO things easier.  I like being strong.  It makes me proud of my body, and I want to keep going back every week.

Full of cliches and feelings

Have you ever had a friend who meant so much to you that you would do anything for them? Have you ever had a friend who broke your heart?  And no matter how much you tried to change, and make things okay, they just left the pieces of your broken heart lying there on the floor...

How do you recover from that?

There are a limited number of times the heart can mend itself.  With each breaking, the pieces of your broken heart get smaller and harder to put back together.  And yet, foolish heart, it continues to reach out to the same thing that it knows will only break it again.

But the thing that does the breaking is really just a person with a broken heart of their own, trying to put their pieces back together and somehow managing to shatter you again in their clumsy attempts at reconstruction.

My faith tells me to forgive.  Jesus says seven times seventy -- not a literal 490 times, more like unlimited times -- and I can forgive.  But how many times am I supposed to let myself get walked on and mistreated? My heart, the eternal optimist, rises like helium-filled glass balloon at the faintest glimmer of hope, and is dashed to the ground again before the hopeful glimmer can become a real light.

Fall Colors

I don't know what possessed me to go out for a walk on this rainy, gray day.





























But I had a few good companions on my journey...

And the colors were beautiful, rain or shine.




























..

Groans too deep for words

Most of my prayers recently - at least the ones with words - have been something along the lines of "What is going ON?!" and "What are you doing?!" Most of the time, though, my soul is crying out with groans too deep for words. Life is hard. Thank God we don't have to do it alone.

Descend upon my heart

The music we sing at my church is hip and cool.  It's at the forefront of the worship music scene.  It's loud, and different, and people respond to it.  I love it!  

I also attend a weekly Bible study (BSF) where we do things a little more traditionally.  Every week we bust out those old red hymnals and sing along with words written hundreds of years ago.  

I love the contrast of the two groups for more than just the differences in music.  Maybe I'll tell you about that sometime.

Tonight at BSF, we sang a song called Spirit of God, Descend Upon My Heart.  It was written by George Croley in 1867.  Here is the fourth verse of that hymn:

Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh

Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear

To check the rising doubt, the restless sigh

Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer

Seriously... Who asks for God to teach them patience through unanswered prayer?  That is crazy talk! But that verse jumped out and smacked me in the face because I've been spending a lot of my time in prayer lately asking God "what the HECK are you doing?!?"  I've been dealing with some hard things lately, and I don't anticipate them going away any time soon.  How might those trials be lifted if I were to learn to bear the struggles of the soul?  And how does one learn to do that?? What does that even mean???  The answer is there in the title / first verse of the song.  Spirit of God, descend upon my heart.  The rational part of my brain can identify when I'm acting like a crazy person.  I know when I'm without the Spirit, and acting on my own self centered fears.  And I've experienced moments - brief though they may be - when I rely on the Spirit and can respond out of that reality instead of my broken self. 

I guess all I can do is keep going, and thank God for those moments when his Spirit is in me, and pray that he continues to descend upon my heart.

Book List 2012

I love to read!  There's no question that I'll read plenty of books in the coming year.  But I thought it would be fun to make a list of titles to ensure I make time for them all, and to provide myself a little balance between genres.  And if you're so inclined, you can check me out on Goodreads.

First up -- I'm desperately trying to finish Douglas Adams' The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.  It's a sci-fi classic, and I really like it, but with all the tiny chapters (some less than a page), it feels like I've been reading forever.

Practicing the Way of Jesus, by Mark Scandrette  I've read some great reviews about this one.

Angry Conversations with God, by Susan E. Isaacs  I heard Susan speak at a conference a few years ago.  Honest and funny, I'm looking forward to this memoir.

All is Grace, by Brennan Manning

Love Wins,  by Rob Bell, and a follow-up,  Christ Alone, by Michael E. Wittmer

Practicing the Presence of God, by Brother Lawrence  I've read this book before, but it's small and a classic!

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), by Mindy Kaling   I'm not a huge fan of The Office, but I read some articles that she wrote and I think Kaling is funny and has a great perspective on being a woman in Hollywood.

The Hunger Games trilogy, by Suzanne Collins  I've seen this book all over the place, and hadn't planned on reading it because of some strange resistance to its immense popularity.  But my roommate listened to the audiobook on her work drives and loved it.  Since she so rarely recommends a book to me, I decided to trust her suggestion.

Shane, by Jack Schaefer and My Name is Asher Lev, by Chaim Potok  These two are titles I missed reading in my book club last year, but they were highly recommended, so I'm going to try and swing back and pick them up.

And speaking of the book club, our first book for January is The Help by Kathryn Stockett.  The rest of the Broadened Horizons reading list for 2012 can be found here, if you're interested.


I think that's a good start to my list!  I'm sure I'll add some along the way, and feel free to add your own suggestions :)  Happy Reading!

Oh hey blog.

Oh. Hey, blog. How are you? Good? Me too. Sorry I haven't been in touch in a while. Life's been pretty crazy. Yeah. Well, it was great to see you... Have a good day!

I hate talking on the phone - particularly to old friends I haven't connected with in a while. (Sorry, friends. I love you!) I think it's for the same reason I haven't updated this poor blog in 5 months. What do you say when there's nothing interesting, exciting, hopeful, fun, or good happening in your life? 'Cause that's where I'm at.

I work part time at Starbucks, spend money irresponsibly, struggle to pay my bills, and feed my kazillion cats. I can't find a ministry job, because I've settled in a small town where all the jobs are filled. And I can't find a job doing anything else, because all I'm trained to do is be a professional Christian. And I keep thinking -- God, is this really what you had planned for me? But as they say, hindsight is 20/20. I'm sure it will all make sense once I'm out of it. I'm sure I'm learning valuable lessons in my (petty) sufferings.

I realized a few weeks ago that I've been questioning God's goodness. Not in general, like as a good being. He is more good than I can ever understand. But I'm not sure he's being good to me at this point in my life. There's nothing good in it, so how can God be doing good to me? But I guess you have to cherish the little things... The past few months at Starbucks have been unbearable and every morning is a great accomplishment just dragging myself out of bed to put on that green apron. But the past couple weeks I've had this inexplicable, unshakeable, nonstop cheerfulness as soon as I walk in the door! There's no way it's from me... Must be God after all. ;)

My head is full of meaningless information.

My head is full of meaningless information. I know song lyrics and names, and I can identify musicians by the sound of their voices. I remember the titles of movies I saw more than ten years ago, and what celebrities starred in them. I have memorized hundreds of lines of dialog from my favorite tv shows. (I couldn’t sleep at all last night! Angie kept my Sharper Image White Noise Aromatherapy machine. She knows I can’t sleep without the sound of the ocean and the smell of bacon!) l can recall book plots, authors, and character names. I know that Greg Grunberg has had parts in almost everything JJ Abrams has produced. I know the names of all nine members of the Fellowship of the Ring. (Frodo, Gandalf, Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, Legolas, Sam, Merry, Pippin) I remember celebrity gossip and the weird things they name their children. Why do I waste my brain power on such pointless drivel? And why do I so easily remember all things entertainment related, but struggle so hard to memorize things of lasting, eternal significance?

Last week in my Bible study, we read again about the futility of idols and idol-worship. In Isaiah’s time, people actually had carved statues that they worshipped. But today’s idols are typically not physical objects, they are concepts and institutions. Although Hollywood celebrity isn’t something that I would say I struggle with idolizing, it’s amazing how easily I retain information about stuff I don’t really care about! This is what Isaiah has to say about the people’s idols:

The images that are carried about are burdensome, a burden for the weary. They stoop and bow down together; unable to rescue the burden, they themselves go off into captivity. Isaiah 46:1-2

Their idols weigh them down, and make it hard to move. In contrast, this is how God describes his relationship to his people:

I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you. Isaiah 46:4

Now I’m not trying to say that memorizing meaningless facts about the entertainment industry is a bad thing. I will probably always love movies, music, magazines, and tv. But it makes me wonder why it is so easy for me to subconsciously absorb that information, and so hard to retain the truth of God! I suspect it would do great things for my peace and trust in God if I had more consistent intake of scripture. I am terrible at memorizing Bible verses. But obviously I have the mental capacity to memorize; I’m just not using it on the right things! I also sometimes find it hard to read the Bible, because I already know what it says. I know the stories, and the principles, and the who’s who. But as my pastor mentioned this morning, when we pray that God will give us fresh eyes to see his Word, he does! Different things stick out to us at different times in our lives. Scripture is alive with the power of the Holy Spirit!

Anyone want to join me on my pursuit to fill my head with truth instead of crap???

Risky Business and Me Too

Last night I attended something called Gallery Night hosted by my church. I'm still at the early stages of getting involved and connected there, and attending events outside of Sunday morning is a big deal. I always get these emails about groups that are meeting and things that are happening, and I think, "Oh, that sounds so cool!" and then I chicken out and don't go. Am I the only one who does this?

Anyway, in the emails about Gallery Night, they asked for submissions from the community. They wanted submissions "from ordinary people at Exodus doing art, music, writing and anything else creative." And in a highly uncharacteristic move (seriously, I never do this), I emailed the organizer and told her I had some poems I wanted to contribute.

I love to read poetry. And yes, I occasionally write it myself. But aside from a creative writing class in high school where we were required to share our classwork, I have never let anyone else read my poems. Heck, I've never even told anyone I write poetry! Even typing the phrase "I write poetry" is ridiculous!!!!!!!

Hours could be spent psychoanalyzing my insecurities about writing. Who knows what possessed me to voluntarily contribute my poems for the Gallery Night. And then follow through by actually bringing them to the Gallery Night. And then stand around talking to people at the Gallery Night who might actually match up the name on the paper with my face! But I did. And the absolute best thing that could have happened in that whole scenario actually happened.

I met a new person in the mingling, and when I introduced myself, she asked me if I had submitted anything, because there were a few different Wendys who had brought pieces. I said yes, and identified the poems I brought. "Oh, that winter one..." she said.

"Yeah, when I showed it to my roommate she thought it was really sad."

"It was," she said, "but I definitely know the feeling."

The most comforting words a person can ever say are "Me too."

And, just for posterity, here's that poem:

I am glad

you broke my heart in winter.

I don't think I could bear

to see things growing

to hear birds chirping

to watch children playing in the sun.

Winter is cold

barren

desolate.

Frozen

like my heart.

Don't you just love spring?

I know, it’s February, and not actually spring yet. But we’ve had a string of warm days here, and now I can’t seem to get to all those chores on my list, like cleaning the bathroom and stacking wood in the basement. I just have to be outside!

Spring is great for everyone and everything in the Little Yellow House. The cats are less destructive inside the house when they get to burn off all their energy outside. They chase everything --birds, frisbees, each other-- except the neighbor dog, who chases them! Thankfully there are lots of trees nearby for escape.

Last week I sat outside one afternoon and watched them play. I am an avid observer of nature in all seasons. I love to see small shadows speeding across the ground, and search the sky for hawks gliding in the summer heat. I love to see the foliage splashed with color in the fall, like an exuberant toddler was let loose with finger paints in the forest. I love to see the snow shining like glitter on the ground, and hear the frozen winter branches tapping together like morse code. And I love spring, because everything seems to begin again. I listened to the birds singing, and they seemed hesitant, like they were using tunes that had gone unsung for too long. A woodpecker circled the trunk of a tree, tapping tentatively to find a good spot. The ground is damp and waiting, and though it is still too early for flowers to begin uncurling their leaves, the buds on the trees are beginning to swell.

I am ready for spring in my heart, too. Ready for new things, and beauty, and life. Lent begins soon, and as the church calendar goes, things will get much darker before we can truly celebrate the miracle of rebirth. But I am ready.

Deaf

I enjoy writing. Unfortunately, since I finished school, I seem to only write when inspiration strikes, instead of as a discipline that would develop my skills. But since what I have is all I’ve got, I might as well try to find something that works.

I know lots of bloggers schedule their posts in advance to help with the consistency and continuity of their blogging. I’ve started to do this with my poetry blog since I have only sporadic internet access. It might work here, too. What if, during my moments of inspiration, I take the time to churn out a few blog posts instead of just one, and schedule them to be posted at a later date? We’ll see how this goes.

Do you remember taking hearing tests in elementary school? I remember it being something mildly exciting for me and my young classmates. As a group, we would leave our room and file into one of the back basement hallways, and wait in line as our peers were taken in a few at a time. The room was dimly lit (Why are they always dimly lit?) and at the hearing test station, we put on a pair of giant noise-blocking headphones and were instructed to push the button every time we heard a beep. We had to hear a certain percentage of the beeps in order to pass the test, and I was always a little bit afraid that I would miss too many.

I feel like that with God sometimes. I sit there, my senses on edge, straining to hear his voice. I stretch my ears to hear a word, a whisper, some direction.

--Did you hear that?

Was that your voice, God?

...or just background noise?

I wish I had a pair of worldly-noise blocking headphones, because I can’t always hear the beeps. Sometimes they’re unmistakably loud, but sometimes I just know I’ve missed one. Sometimes what I think I've heard turns out not to be from God, and sometimes what I think I hear doesn't seem like it could be true.

How do you hear God?

Greater

My Advent devotional begins with these words:

“God is that greater than which cannot be thought.” St. Anselm of Canterbury

“Think about it. We can stretch our minds as high and deep and far as our minds can stretch, and at the point of the highest, deepest, farthest stretch of our minds, we have not ‘thought’ God. There is always a thought beyond what we are able to think. ‘God is that greater than which cannot be thought.’”

God’s greatness is something that I don’t usually marvel at. Growing up, I easily accepted the complexities of faith. Occasionally in worship I am led to marvel at the majesty of God, but most often I take it for granted. In college we called them “the omnis”: God is omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and so on. We know all these things, and absorb them with little thought.

This past week, I’ve been struggling with some big “why” questions. Even bigger than those questions, though, I am struggling with the “how.” I have never before been struck with such paralyzing cluelessness. I have no idea what to do. I have no idea how to figure out what to do. I have no idea why these things have happened, or how I can resolve them. How do I get out? How do I go on?

I am in a women’s Bible study of Isaiah, and he has a lot to say about God’s final plans for creation and humankind. The last question this week was “In what specific ways are you waiting patiently and trustingly for God’s final work of judgment?” And as strange as it sounds, right now I am so eager for the final judgment! There is so much uncertainty, so much I don’t know how to answer or deal with. And the only relief I have is knowing someday that all will be well. All will be fulfilled. All will be peace.

When I read those words in my Advent devotional, I felt peace in the midst of my turmoil. At the outer limits of my attempts to find answers, as far and as hard as I stretch my mind to go, God is there. He is greater than anything my mind could perceive or produce. “God is that greater than which cannot be thought.”

Quote by Richard John Neuhaus, from God With Us, ed. Greg Pennoyer and Gregory Wolfe, p. 17

Would you like some tears with your coffee?

I’ve been kind of miserable lately. I love being in Indiana, near my parents, and in the Little Yellow House, but I’m pretty lonely. I’m working on it, though! I came up with a few things I think will help me feel better about myself and where my life is going.

This week I will:

not eat fast food

keep the house clean(ish)

make myself dinner (no frozen pizza!)

read some poetry

take a walk

blog

research some future career options

Accomplishing all this might be tricky, because this week I’m helping out with my parents’ church VBS program. But that will be good for me too.

I Surrender All

All to Jesus I surrender

Humbly at his feet I bow

Worldly pleasures all forsaken

Take me Jesus, take me now

I surrender all

I surrender all

All to thee my blessed Savior

I surrender all

We sang this in church today: an old-school hymn that my college students (and who knows how many other people in the congregation at my rather modern church) had never heard before. It's a great, classic song with powerful lyrics, as many of the classic hymns have. But as we were singing, I had a terrible realization: I don't surrender. And it wasn't one of those terrible/good realizations that causes us to cry out to Jesus and come closer to him -- oh, no. I was annoyed! I haven't surrendered all recently, I don't want to, and I would rather you not bring it up, thank you very much! I hate it when Jesus calls me out.

All these thoughts were flitting across my brain while we were singing, and I just kept singing because I love singing. But then I decided something: I have to keep singing. No matter where my heart is, I will keep singing. I'm not surrendering to Jesus, but I know I should, and deep down in my heart I want to surrender, so I will keep singing. I'll keep singing 'til it's true.