I was going to write this blog three weeks ago. But I stewed and simmered on my feelings and it never happened. The subject matter has been lurking on the edges of my mind. I suppose life has convenient and subtle ways of keeping us from confronting those issues that would define us. You may call "life" what you will- busyness, distractions, Satan, doing the "good" while sacrificing the "best"...there are a lot of definitions. But they add up to the same place for us all- stopping us from changing the world.
Three weeks ago on a Sunday I had one of those defining days- I could move forward same as before but I wouldn't be the same person because of the experiences and knowledge learned. I'd like to tell you about it.
Every Sunday afternoon our church has a food bank ministry that distributes food bags to the needy and homeless at a school off Colfax in Denver. I'm sure I didn't get the description exactly right, but you get the idea. This has been going on for years now. The ministry is called The Net and there is a big truck to haul all the food. If you live on this side of town you might have seen the truck before. Lots of people work each week to make this happen. There is a message given and the kids sing, color and do crafts. The recipients of the food also get an opportunity to talk to team members about their lives, their needs and concerns that go beyond the physical need for food.
I have wanted to help with this ministry in the past. I'd even gotten really close to going a few times. But I let life get in the way. Sometimes I get migraines on Sundays. Other times the third Sunday, the day our friends help out, would sneak up on me and we would have a million other plans. But let's be honest here- there is a lazy and vile mentality whispering in our minds telling us someone else will help or there will be always be another day to show up. Sad truth is those whisperings were probably the biggest factor keeping me away for so long.
But on that Sunday, everything fell into place and I couldn't say no. Well, of course I could have, but Maise and Ainsley wanted to help, and what parent in their right mind would tell their kid, "No you can't go help needy people because Mommmy wants to go home and take a Sunday afternoon nap." Ouch. But my excuses from all the weeks past really sounded that heartless and stupid in that moment. So we went.
I felt very clumsy at first. I didn't know the routine and kept dropping things. There was an efficiency and beauty about it all that did not include me yet- I was the outsider. My girls picked it right up. I finally found a rhythm that didn't embarrass me and actually got the bags filled without squishing anything.
There is a lot more I could share from that afternoon, but some moments are meant to be cherished and kept close to the heart, even for a writer. I found an organization that connected with my heart though, and I will be back. I believe love should be lived out as tangible acts and I feel helping those around us is vital- as much for us as for those we are helping. It sets us free from the selfishness and materialism that would consume us whole. I know I have failed miserably at this in the past.
I feel my writing is heavy and clunky today. This is tough subject matter. I feel shame for all those wasted moments when my selfishness and apathy have kept me from helping those around me. I have hope for making wiser choices in the future. But I fear the cares and concerns of life...and selfishness...will choke my good intentions for the future. I realize the struggle will always be there for all of us to put ourselves first. We must fight against this.
Something else happened that Sunday. But I will share that in my next blog. This is enough intensity for today.
Thank you for reading dear reader. :)
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Making up words and wanting to change the world...
Just wrote four paragraphs and balled them up and threw them in the "recycle bin". They were crap. The stuff I write when I want to write but don't know how to be real with my feelings. I would feel worse about cutting them if they had been hard-won. They were easy fluffy patheticness. Just like that last word I think I made up.
Truth- sometimes I feel I must write but know I do not have anything earth-shatteringly important to say. So I throw down trivial words until the urge passes. I do not give real effort. And I will usually toss the writing out as quickly as possible after the fact.
Do you ever do that?
Not with writing perhaps, but do you have times when you feel there is something you must do...exercise, reach out to that person who hurts you, go for that job promotion, save orphans, whatever...and you find yourself only giving half effort or maybe even giving 1% effort?
I just googled the phrase, "famous lazy people" because I really wanted that last sentence to end with an appropriate and witty example of an instantly recognizable historic slacker. I learned that Hitler was said to have been very lazy. With all the horrors he inflicted, I am very glad he never achieved his full productive potential. But the number one quote I saw on my Google search was "You don't become famous by being lazy."
Wow! Pow! Kaboom!
(Sorry, I am re-reading Stephen King's On Writing and I couldn't resist.)
That's a pretty hardcore quote though. And seriously true. I don't know that I want to become famous. Although I guess if I did then perhaps it would mean I am a good writer and I do want to be one of those. Regardless of the answer to the famous part, I do want to make a difference. We all do, yes? Where does that start? It begins at the fluffy patheticness. That is an inception.
You feel you must show up. So you do. You give your one percent. The process is under way. Pat yourself on the back for the small first step. Then push harder. Do not let yourself be okay with that crappy minuscule effort. Do more. It is only by each day's bit of work that we will change the world. Who's gonna change with world if we don't? The lazy Hitlers will.
In case you missed this gigantic glaring point during reading, it is me I am talking to here. Keep writing crap Val. But stop settling with putting down words just to get them down. Make the words beautiful and be resolute in being real. I know my calling. I encourage you with pumped fists to step out into yours. You know what it is already. Almost all of you do anyway. Give your 1% tomorrow if that is all you can muster. But give 20 the next day. Do this with me. And tell me about it please. Comment and tell me what you are going to do. Let's push each other, okay? Can't wait to see what is going to come of this.
Peace dear readers. Sleep deep.
Truth- sometimes I feel I must write but know I do not have anything earth-shatteringly important to say. So I throw down trivial words until the urge passes. I do not give real effort. And I will usually toss the writing out as quickly as possible after the fact.
Do you ever do that?
Not with writing perhaps, but do you have times when you feel there is something you must do...exercise, reach out to that person who hurts you, go for that job promotion, save orphans, whatever...and you find yourself only giving half effort or maybe even giving 1% effort?
I just googled the phrase, "famous lazy people" because I really wanted that last sentence to end with an appropriate and witty example of an instantly recognizable historic slacker. I learned that Hitler was said to have been very lazy. With all the horrors he inflicted, I am very glad he never achieved his full productive potential. But the number one quote I saw on my Google search was "You don't become famous by being lazy."
Wow! Pow! Kaboom!
(Sorry, I am re-reading Stephen King's On Writing and I couldn't resist.)
That's a pretty hardcore quote though. And seriously true. I don't know that I want to become famous. Although I guess if I did then perhaps it would mean I am a good writer and I do want to be one of those. Regardless of the answer to the famous part, I do want to make a difference. We all do, yes? Where does that start? It begins at the fluffy patheticness. That is an inception.
You feel you must show up. So you do. You give your one percent. The process is under way. Pat yourself on the back for the small first step. Then push harder. Do not let yourself be okay with that crappy minuscule effort. Do more. It is only by each day's bit of work that we will change the world. Who's gonna change with world if we don't? The lazy Hitlers will.
In case you missed this gigantic glaring point during reading, it is me I am talking to here. Keep writing crap Val. But stop settling with putting down words just to get them down. Make the words beautiful and be resolute in being real. I know my calling. I encourage you with pumped fists to step out into yours. You know what it is already. Almost all of you do anyway. Give your 1% tomorrow if that is all you can muster. But give 20 the next day. Do this with me. And tell me about it please. Comment and tell me what you are going to do. Let's push each other, okay? Can't wait to see what is going to come of this.
Peace dear readers. Sleep deep.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Afterthoughts. Afterglow.
Sitting here chillin with some John Mark McMillan tunes, courtesy of youtube, and a Vitamin water, tropical citrus energy flavor because I had to take a Zyrtec earlier and it makes me super drowsy. So I am half-awake and musing on the past few days. I want a nap. But I want to write more. Get my thoughts and heart out there. Out here, to be exact.
In a lot of ways I feel twelve again. Spiritually, that is. The kids running around remind me I am almost 35. But inside, in the deepest parts of my soul, I feel like a child again. In wonder. New. Hopeful in a way only an unscathed child can conjure the world in her imagination. Freedom is settling in my heart, a child's freedom of expression and love and joy. I haven't felt this alive in years. I am realizing who I am. The details are still a little fuzzy in parts, but the clarity of what I can see is breath-taking. What am I seeing? My beauty, purpose, abilities, the causes that move my heart to tears and action, and what matters to me. The list of things that matter becomes shockingly simple when you know who you are. That confidence might be the biggest surprise of all.
Getting distracted by the music because it's so good...
Back to task. What do I want to really say here?
Perhaps John Mark McMillan wrote it best:
"If grace is an ocean, I am sinking."
Drown me whole God. Only in You is there life. The only kind of life I want anyway.
However, just like other amazing experiences, the afterglow will wear off. I realize that. But there is something about spending days with the Lover of your soul that changes a person. It changes human hearts in human love relationships, and it changes souls in God relationships.
These are easy words to write. They are my heart. But there is vulnerability in laying my soul's thoughts and longings bare on my blog. I have no idea how this is going to be received. This is where I want to assure all my readers I am not becoming some kind of freak. I am NOT becoming...
Well. Maybe I should wait before finishing that sentence. I have no idea what I am becoming. I only know it is more ME than I have ever been.
Peace and passion. The contentment in my heart is so intense I feel it is going to burst out of my skin. And that is not afterglow, that is real.
Peace out dear readers. I'm gonna go run around in the rain when it gets here.
In a lot of ways I feel twelve again. Spiritually, that is. The kids running around remind me I am almost 35. But inside, in the deepest parts of my soul, I feel like a child again. In wonder. New. Hopeful in a way only an unscathed child can conjure the world in her imagination. Freedom is settling in my heart, a child's freedom of expression and love and joy. I haven't felt this alive in years. I am realizing who I am. The details are still a little fuzzy in parts, but the clarity of what I can see is breath-taking. What am I seeing? My beauty, purpose, abilities, the causes that move my heart to tears and action, and what matters to me. The list of things that matter becomes shockingly simple when you know who you are. That confidence might be the biggest surprise of all.
Getting distracted by the music because it's so good...
Back to task. What do I want to really say here?
Perhaps John Mark McMillan wrote it best:
"If grace is an ocean, I am sinking."
Drown me whole God. Only in You is there life. The only kind of life I want anyway.
However, just like other amazing experiences, the afterglow will wear off. I realize that. But there is something about spending days with the Lover of your soul that changes a person. It changes human hearts in human love relationships, and it changes souls in God relationships.
These are easy words to write. They are my heart. But there is vulnerability in laying my soul's thoughts and longings bare on my blog. I have no idea how this is going to be received. This is where I want to assure all my readers I am not becoming some kind of freak. I am NOT becoming...
Well. Maybe I should wait before finishing that sentence. I have no idea what I am becoming. I only know it is more ME than I have ever been.
Peace and passion. The contentment in my heart is so intense I feel it is going to burst out of my skin. And that is not afterglow, that is real.
Peace out dear readers. I'm gonna go run around in the rain when it gets here.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Once in a Lifetime...
I heard this song in a store tonight. It brought up a million thoughts.
The summer road trip. Good and bad.
River. Ducks? Perhaps not.
Letting the days go by...
Boo.
Lights over the city.
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.
Poems and ancient books.
The saddest song ever by Lykke Li.
All the parts I never blogged about, the parts still resolving in my heart. Or clanging and clashing. Some things never resolve after all.
Regardless, I am glad for every part of the trip, the good, bad, funny, silly, scary, sad, precious...all of it. It is all a treasure to me now.
Except for maybe that fleabag hotel where I kept my Glock loaded beside me on the nightstand...
Good night all. :)
The summer road trip. Good and bad.
River. Ducks? Perhaps not.
Letting the days go by...
Boo.
Lights over the city.
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.
Poems and ancient books.
The saddest song ever by Lykke Li.
All the parts I never blogged about, the parts still resolving in my heart. Or clanging and clashing. Some things never resolve after all.
Regardless, I am glad for every part of the trip, the good, bad, funny, silly, scary, sad, precious...all of it. It is all a treasure to me now.
Except for maybe that fleabag hotel where I kept my Glock loaded beside me on the nightstand...
Good night all. :)
Monday, April 4, 2011
Nuisance
Have some new thoughts this morning. Spent a lot of time last night thinking, praying, and pondering the words of good friends. Had some important ephiphanies. I feel so important using that word...say it with me...EPHIPHANIES. Big, light-bulb moments, the ones that almost always occur when you are staring out the window bored out of your mind on a long road trip, or in the dead of night and it pulls you straight up in bed, with buzzing in your ears. Yes, those ephiphanies.
1. I am too hard on myself.
Yes, I know if you are my close friend, you have already said this to me about a million times. I did hear you, I promise I wasn't ignoring you. I just struggle with grace. I can dump tons of it on the people around me, even forgiving and forgetting when it is not always healthy for me. But grace for myself is harder. I think many of us struggle with this. Especially if you are a "fixer". I had a conversation a couple of weeks ago with another friend who is a self-proclaimed "fixer" too. We talked about how awful it feels to see those around us hurt when we are powerless to help. Of course we all feel badly when we see pain in the lives of those we love, but for a "fixer" it is different- the inability to stop the pain is crushing to us. Which brings me to Ephiphany numero dos...
2. I take on the emotional symptoms of blaming myself for things I have no control over.
I will give a specific example of this one because I am able to now. A good friend of mine is getting divorced. Technically all is done except for the official word. Some of you saw me crying and attempting incoherent conversation last week after I helped her and her kids move. I couldn't articulate why I was breaking down in sobs...why was I so upset about this? It is a difficult and painful thing to be sure, but it was not MY divorce, nor that of a close family member. There are lots of reasons I was upset, but I think the biggest one comes down to the fact I couldnt' stop it. I was absolutely helpless to make things all better and normal again. And that was crushing to me. This brings me to my last and most important point...
3. My compassion gets me in trouble.
I will give Chelsea Annette Stow the credit for this one- she is the one who articulated this for me so clearly the other night. My compassion is a good thing a lot of the time. I love people. If you know me, you know that about me. I enjoy talking to people. I cherish hearing their stories and thoughts on life, history, cheese, whatever might be on their minds. I feel honored and humbled when others open up to me about their dreams and fears and pain. But many times my compassion drags me in too deep. Like with my dear friend who is divorcing, I hurt for her, her kids and her ex, way more than is healthy or normal. I abhore seeing others in pain. And the closer one is to me, the more my hurt magnifies for their hurt. Am I making sense here? To my own ears, it sounds childish...I can hear some of you thinking...Just don't get so emotionally involved Val. I wish it were that simple, that I could shut it off like a switch at appropriate times. Or just shut it off period. Ron says I have a tender heart. I think I just care too much sometimes, in a way that is not healthy for me. I keep hearing that line from the song Nuisance in my head..."My greatest strength is also my strongest weakness." That is so true of me. This example from last week is just one small example, I have a million more. I was not tasked with saving the world, and we all must hurt to grow. I can't stop the hurt, and I can't take the blame for the hurt unless I did indeed cause it.
I am going to link the song here to end up this blog. It is one of my favorite songs on the planet, and the video just cracks me up and makes me happy. The end is the best- so much truth. If you have already watched it the hundred other times I have posted it on my facebook page, you may skip it today.
Thanks for reading. :)
1. I am too hard on myself.
Yes, I know if you are my close friend, you have already said this to me about a million times. I did hear you, I promise I wasn't ignoring you. I just struggle with grace. I can dump tons of it on the people around me, even forgiving and forgetting when it is not always healthy for me. But grace for myself is harder. I think many of us struggle with this. Especially if you are a "fixer". I had a conversation a couple of weeks ago with another friend who is a self-proclaimed "fixer" too. We talked about how awful it feels to see those around us hurt when we are powerless to help. Of course we all feel badly when we see pain in the lives of those we love, but for a "fixer" it is different- the inability to stop the pain is crushing to us. Which brings me to Ephiphany numero dos...
2. I take on the emotional symptoms of blaming myself for things I have no control over.
I will give a specific example of this one because I am able to now. A good friend of mine is getting divorced. Technically all is done except for the official word. Some of you saw me crying and attempting incoherent conversation last week after I helped her and her kids move. I couldn't articulate why I was breaking down in sobs...why was I so upset about this? It is a difficult and painful thing to be sure, but it was not MY divorce, nor that of a close family member. There are lots of reasons I was upset, but I think the biggest one comes down to the fact I couldnt' stop it. I was absolutely helpless to make things all better and normal again. And that was crushing to me. This brings me to my last and most important point...
3. My compassion gets me in trouble.
I will give Chelsea Annette Stow the credit for this one- she is the one who articulated this for me so clearly the other night. My compassion is a good thing a lot of the time. I love people. If you know me, you know that about me. I enjoy talking to people. I cherish hearing their stories and thoughts on life, history, cheese, whatever might be on their minds. I feel honored and humbled when others open up to me about their dreams and fears and pain. But many times my compassion drags me in too deep. Like with my dear friend who is divorcing, I hurt for her, her kids and her ex, way more than is healthy or normal. I abhore seeing others in pain. And the closer one is to me, the more my hurt magnifies for their hurt. Am I making sense here? To my own ears, it sounds childish...I can hear some of you thinking...Just don't get so emotionally involved Val. I wish it were that simple, that I could shut it off like a switch at appropriate times. Or just shut it off period. Ron says I have a tender heart. I think I just care too much sometimes, in a way that is not healthy for me. I keep hearing that line from the song Nuisance in my head..."My greatest strength is also my strongest weakness." That is so true of me. This example from last week is just one small example, I have a million more. I was not tasked with saving the world, and we all must hurt to grow. I can't stop the hurt, and I can't take the blame for the hurt unless I did indeed cause it.
I am going to link the song here to end up this blog. It is one of my favorite songs on the planet, and the video just cracks me up and makes me happy. The end is the best- so much truth. If you have already watched it the hundred other times I have posted it on my facebook page, you may skip it today.
Thanks for reading. :)
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Melancholy and letting go...
Meloncholy tonight.
Could be the two busted fingers on my left hand. If you follow me on facebook...and honestly, how did you get to this blog if you don't...then you know I fell UP the basement stairs earlier this evening, and landed on my hand in a sickening way. Typing isn't the most comfortable, but the fact I am doing it lets me know my ring and pinkie fingers are most likely not broken. Yay!
Hmm, so where else could this mood be coming from? I think I know.
I want to write about the events of the past couple of weeks, but my stories and emotions are other friends' stories and feelings too this time. I struggle, as always, with sharing WITHOUT sharing. Sigh. If you know me, and of course you do since you are taking the time to read this, you know I do not often hold my thoughts back. I can't say what I am feeling without sharing every thought and emotion in my brain and heart. My counselor and one of my close girlfriends have told me I can be very closed...when I do not want to talk or share, I do not. I guess I agree. Mostly, I think I avoid others when I am upset. I hide. Except in blog form. But if I must be around others, I drop my eyes and do not engage in conversation unless required. I am not this way often, so if you have seen me in hiding mode, well, it must have been a pretty tough day.
So how do I share my heart tonight? Okay, I will make it easy. I hurt for the stupid mistakes I make. I hurt for the people I care about who are hurting tonight. Or maybe they aren't tonight, but they sure were this week. I hurt for the selfishness I have seen this week, again, my burden and the burden of those I love. I know Sunday usually begins a new week, but I am still processing this past one. I must process before I can put it away. Before I can move forward. My struggles and weaknesses are still staring me in the face, asking me how I will respond to them at sun up. My answer to them is simple- I will be stronger tomorrow. I will again be dumping this at God's feet lying in the dark tonight, listening to the wind.
I will end this remembering a friend who used to speak of feeling meloncholy often. I wonder now if it was related to circumstances or an independent state of the heart? I don't have an answer to my friend's meloncholy state of mind, but I think I do understand it better now. For me, I am going to let go. And forgive myself- for the things I did, and the things I could have done and didn't. Jesus knows it and has it all...it is me who is holding on tightly.
Let go Val. Let go.
Thanks for reading. Sleep well.
Could be the two busted fingers on my left hand. If you follow me on facebook...and honestly, how did you get to this blog if you don't...then you know I fell UP the basement stairs earlier this evening, and landed on my hand in a sickening way. Typing isn't the most comfortable, but the fact I am doing it lets me know my ring and pinkie fingers are most likely not broken. Yay!
Hmm, so where else could this mood be coming from? I think I know.
I want to write about the events of the past couple of weeks, but my stories and emotions are other friends' stories and feelings too this time. I struggle, as always, with sharing WITHOUT sharing. Sigh. If you know me, and of course you do since you are taking the time to read this, you know I do not often hold my thoughts back. I can't say what I am feeling without sharing every thought and emotion in my brain and heart. My counselor and one of my close girlfriends have told me I can be very closed...when I do not want to talk or share, I do not. I guess I agree. Mostly, I think I avoid others when I am upset. I hide. Except in blog form. But if I must be around others, I drop my eyes and do not engage in conversation unless required. I am not this way often, so if you have seen me in hiding mode, well, it must have been a pretty tough day.
So how do I share my heart tonight? Okay, I will make it easy. I hurt for the stupid mistakes I make. I hurt for the people I care about who are hurting tonight. Or maybe they aren't tonight, but they sure were this week. I hurt for the selfishness I have seen this week, again, my burden and the burden of those I love. I know Sunday usually begins a new week, but I am still processing this past one. I must process before I can put it away. Before I can move forward. My struggles and weaknesses are still staring me in the face, asking me how I will respond to them at sun up. My answer to them is simple- I will be stronger tomorrow. I will again be dumping this at God's feet lying in the dark tonight, listening to the wind.
I will end this remembering a friend who used to speak of feeling meloncholy often. I wonder now if it was related to circumstances or an independent state of the heart? I don't have an answer to my friend's meloncholy state of mind, but I think I do understand it better now. For me, I am going to let go. And forgive myself- for the things I did, and the things I could have done and didn't. Jesus knows it and has it all...it is me who is holding on tightly.
Let go Val. Let go.
Thanks for reading. Sleep well.
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