Last night was our last shelter night of "the season". I don't know why there even *is* a "season". Is there some memo that goes out to the homeless people that at the end of May, nobody is homeless? (I missed that memo.) So don't even get me started on the season. It makes no sense to me.
I am both greatly relieved and also deeply saddened to be done. Coordinating the site was a major pain, I'm not gonna lie to you. But it was also a great experience for me and my family. It really helped me focus on all the good things I have in my life and everything I have to be grateful for, even when things are tough for us with no relief on the horizon.
I'm not sure our old church has the same passion for community service that my family has. It seemed to be a struggle each month to get adequate food and help for the shelter. In the end it was always outsiders, not church members who came through for us. This led to some deep feelings of what I will kindly call disenchantment with our old church. Hence, it is the old church and we have moved on to a new church whose passions and views align more closely with our own. As a matter of fact, our new church is the group that bailed us out last night when we came up short on food donations. Our new Pastor even cooked for us and brought over food that his family donated! Whereas, when I asked our old church if they could have our old Pastor make an announcement from the pulpit that we desperately needed help, I was told no because they save him "for the big stuff." Excuse me? We had 70 people at the shelter last night who were hungry and didn't have a place to call home. How does that not constitute "big stuff"?
A few of the guests last night were little ones. Small children, about Moose's age. I was setting the tables for dinner when I saw the families outside waiting to come in and I couldn't help but cry. That could be us with our little guy. It could have easily been us. I don't understand why the members of our old church community weren't more generous with their time and resources. Since we are not going to be attending our old church and since I feel so disappointed with trying to lead people towards compassion when they have no desire to do so, I will not be back as the old church's coordinator. Of course I didn't tell them that, I told them I might be moving so I was stepping down. Which is totally true - we still don't know where we'll land permanently. I'll instead be helping the shelter ministry through our new church while we're here in Naperville for as long as that may be. I'm happy that we will still have the opportunity to "have compassion, making a difference" by putting shoes on Christ's love and bringing it to people who need it.
I popped in to check and make sure everything was cleaned up and all the leftover food had been distributed to needy families in our community this morning. As I pulled out of the parking lot heading home, the Black Eyed Peas shuffled up on my iPod. And just like them, I'm wondering...where is the love?
People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek
Father, Father, Father help us
Send some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love (Love)
Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love, the love, the love?
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulder
As I'm gettin' older, y'all, people gets colder
Most of us only care about money makin'
Selfishness got us followin' our wrong direction...
Yo', whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness in equality
Instead of spreading love we're spreading animosity
Lack of understanding, leading lives away from unity
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' under
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' down
There's no wonder why sometimes I'm feelin' under
Gotta keep my faith alive till love is found
Now ask yourself
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Father, Father, Father help us
Send some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love?
Friday, May 29, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
I just gotta dance.
My friend Michelle flew in last week for a quick visit. It was, perhaps, the best and most fun 46 hours I've had in a long time! Michelle wanted to see the sights of Chicago, so we took the train downtown and chased the landmarks she wanted to see. We walked Union Station, toured Navy Pier and rode the ferris wheel, saw Wrigley Field, had a drink at the Cubby Bear, stalked cupcakes in Lincoln Park, cruised the Mag Mile, passed Millennium Park and "the bean", then landed back at Union Station to say goodbye. As we left the cupcake place (Molly's, which was AMAZING and seriously everybody should go there!) we passed a cute little boutique with a hand painted decorative sign in the window that said, "Life isn't about waiting out the storm. It's about learning to dance in the rain." and I loved it. It made me realize that is what I've been doing lately. I'm trying to not stress, I'm trying to just enjoy life. Who knows what job Tim will get next. Maybe he'll have to travel a lot. So, I'm just trying to enjoy the family time that we have together. And right there, on the spot, as I read that plaque and it spoke to my core, I vowed...next time I rained, I was going outside to dance. It was Wednesday.
Last night, we were grilling out when I realized I had run out of barbecue sauce. Mon horreur! I zipped to the store, grabbed a couple bottles and ran out to the car. On my way back to the car, it started raining. It was one of those perfect, gentle spring rains that stopped as quickly as it had started. It just kind of cleaned the air and left that unmistakable fresh scent behind. As the rain kissed my cheeks while I dashed to the car, I remembered my promise to myself. So I did what any other perfectly rational, responsible 34 year old mother would do. I slipped into the car behind the wheel, turned the key, cranked up the radio, opened the windows and the sunroof and as I cruised home in the rain...I danced.
Last night, we were grilling out when I realized I had run out of barbecue sauce. Mon horreur! I zipped to the store, grabbed a couple bottles and ran out to the car. On my way back to the car, it started raining. It was one of those perfect, gentle spring rains that stopped as quickly as it had started. It just kind of cleaned the air and left that unmistakable fresh scent behind. As the rain kissed my cheeks while I dashed to the car, I remembered my promise to myself. So I did what any other perfectly rational, responsible 34 year old mother would do. I slipped into the car behind the wheel, turned the key, cranked up the radio, opened the windows and the sunroof and as I cruised home in the rain...I danced.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Oh wow, so much yum!
I wanted bagels yesterday, but I didn't have any. I did, however, have flour, salt, sugar and yeast so I made my own. They are amazing. I won't be buying bagels again. Not when I can make my own that taste better than Panera!
Bread Machine Bagels
1-1/3 cups warm water (110 degrees F/45 degrees C)
2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons white sugar
4 cups bread flour
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
16 cups boiling water
1/4 cup white sugar
cornmeal for dusting
egg white
1. Place water, salt, sugar, flour and yeast in the bread machine pan in the order recommended by the manufacturer. Select Dough setting.
2. When cycle is complete, let dough rest on a lightly floured surface. Meanwhile, in a large pot bring 16 c of water to a boil. Stir in 1/4 c of sugar.
3. Cut dough into 12 equal pieces, and roll each piece into a small ball. Flatten balls. Poke a hole in the middle of each with your thumb. Twirl the dough on your finger or thumb to enlarge the hole, and to even out the dough around the hole. Cover bagels with a clean cloth, and let rest for 30 minutes.
4. Sprinkle an ungreased baking sheet with cornmeal. Carefully transfer bagels to boiling water. Boil for 1 minute, turning half way through. Drain briefly on clean towel. Arrange boiled bagels on baking sheet. Glaze tops with egg white if desired, and sprinkle with your choice of toppings.
5. Bake in a preheated 375 degree F (190 degrees C) oven for 18 to 20 minutes, until browned.
My notes:
Check your dough while it mixes in the bread machine. I found that the amount of water noted here wasn't quite enough to make a good sticky dough to blend all the flour in. I ended up adding maybe a scant 1/4 c of warm water to my bread machine.
I divided my dough after it came out of the bread machine. I left half of the dough plain, and to the other half of the dough I gingerly kneaded in 1/2 t cinnamon and 1/4 c raisins.
On the plain bagels, after shaping and the second rising I sprinkled them with a mixture of sea salt and garlic powder with a blanket of shredded cheddar cheese on top.
I sprinkled the cinnamon raisin bagels with a dusting of cinnamon vanilla sugar prior to baking.
I did not glaze any of the bagels with egg white, and they came out lovely. Also, I simply greased my baking sheet instead of using cornmeal (I used all my cornmeal to kill the ants this Spring!) and the bagels weren't any worse for the wear.
Bread Machine Bagels
1-1/3 cups warm water (110 degrees F/45 degrees C)
2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons white sugar
4 cups bread flour
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
16 cups boiling water
1/4 cup white sugar
cornmeal for dusting
egg white
1. Place water, salt, sugar, flour and yeast in the bread machine pan in the order recommended by the manufacturer. Select Dough setting.
2. When cycle is complete, let dough rest on a lightly floured surface. Meanwhile, in a large pot bring 16 c of water to a boil. Stir in 1/4 c of sugar.
3. Cut dough into 12 equal pieces, and roll each piece into a small ball. Flatten balls. Poke a hole in the middle of each with your thumb. Twirl the dough on your finger or thumb to enlarge the hole, and to even out the dough around the hole. Cover bagels with a clean cloth, and let rest for 30 minutes.
4. Sprinkle an ungreased baking sheet with cornmeal. Carefully transfer bagels to boiling water. Boil for 1 minute, turning half way through. Drain briefly on clean towel. Arrange boiled bagels on baking sheet. Glaze tops with egg white if desired, and sprinkle with your choice of toppings.
5. Bake in a preheated 375 degree F (190 degrees C) oven for 18 to 20 minutes, until browned.
My notes:
Check your dough while it mixes in the bread machine. I found that the amount of water noted here wasn't quite enough to make a good sticky dough to blend all the flour in. I ended up adding maybe a scant 1/4 c of warm water to my bread machine.
I divided my dough after it came out of the bread machine. I left half of the dough plain, and to the other half of the dough I gingerly kneaded in 1/2 t cinnamon and 1/4 c raisins.
On the plain bagels, after shaping and the second rising I sprinkled them with a mixture of sea salt and garlic powder with a blanket of shredded cheddar cheese on top.
I sprinkled the cinnamon raisin bagels with a dusting of cinnamon vanilla sugar prior to baking.
I did not glaze any of the bagels with egg white, and they came out lovely. Also, I simply greased my baking sheet instead of using cornmeal (I used all my cornmeal to kill the ants this Spring!) and the bagels weren't any worse for the wear.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Peace.
It's here. Mister's last day of employment is here, and the silence is deafening. Is it wrong to feel a bit of relief? We still don't know what we're going to do or where we're going to go but it's a relief nonetheless.
The transition period was excruciating. It was like removing a very, very sticky band-aid very, very slowly. It was a pain of epic proportions. But it's done now, and there's a certain feeling of lightness and freedom from it all being finished.
I've been listening to a lot of music. Music speaks to me. I really connect with lyrics. Music has charms to soothe my savage breast, LOL. So I had the music going while I cleaned the kitchen yesterday, and I had a moment while listening to "Lose My Soul" (by TobyMac, with Kirk Franklin, and Mandisa). It had nothing to do with the fact that the song is a total jam and Mandisa has an incredible voice. It was actually a bit of spoken word at the end of the track that struck me:
Lord forgive us when we get consumed by the things of this world
That fight for our love, and our passion.
As our eyes are open wide and on you
Grant us the privilege of your world view,
And may your kingdom be
What wakes us up, and lays us down.
And then it hit me - what all was I so afraid of? Living in a smaller house? Driving a smaller car? Using more coupons? (Is that even possible, LOL?) What do I have that wasn't given me by my Father? Why would He bring me this far only to ditch me? What do I really have to be afraid of? Not much. I am ashamed but emotionally transparent enough to admit that my focus during this entire life change has been on how we won't be able to afford our current lifestyle, and how I would really not like to give that up. But really, what is that worth? Is it worth sacrificing closeness to my Savior while I focus on a comfortable life that distracts me from His purpose for my life?
So this morning, I drove Tim in to the train station. As we parked and waited for the train, we prayed together. With our family's checkbook clasped between his hand and mine, we left our struggle and worry and fear right there at the Father's feet. Everything we have is from Him. It's all His anyways. We'll let Him take care of us.
And then there was nothing but quiet in my mind and peace in my heart.
The transition period was excruciating. It was like removing a very, very sticky band-aid very, very slowly. It was a pain of epic proportions. But it's done now, and there's a certain feeling of lightness and freedom from it all being finished.
I've been listening to a lot of music. Music speaks to me. I really connect with lyrics. Music has charms to soothe my savage breast, LOL. So I had the music going while I cleaned the kitchen yesterday, and I had a moment while listening to "Lose My Soul" (by TobyMac, with Kirk Franklin, and Mandisa). It had nothing to do with the fact that the song is a total jam and Mandisa has an incredible voice. It was actually a bit of spoken word at the end of the track that struck me:
Lord forgive us when we get consumed by the things of this world
That fight for our love, and our passion.
As our eyes are open wide and on you
Grant us the privilege of your world view,
And may your kingdom be
What wakes us up, and lays us down.
And then it hit me - what all was I so afraid of? Living in a smaller house? Driving a smaller car? Using more coupons? (Is that even possible, LOL?) What do I have that wasn't given me by my Father? Why would He bring me this far only to ditch me? What do I really have to be afraid of? Not much. I am ashamed but emotionally transparent enough to admit that my focus during this entire life change has been on how we won't be able to afford our current lifestyle, and how I would really not like to give that up. But really, what is that worth? Is it worth sacrificing closeness to my Savior while I focus on a comfortable life that distracts me from His purpose for my life?
So this morning, I drove Tim in to the train station. As we parked and waited for the train, we prayed together. With our family's checkbook clasped between his hand and mine, we left our struggle and worry and fear right there at the Father's feet. Everything we have is from Him. It's all His anyways. We'll let Him take care of us.
And then there was nothing but quiet in my mind and peace in my heart.
Monday, April 27, 2009
About Face!
So yeah, my husband lost his job. Now what?
Well, for years I've had a dream of creating and selling my own product line. Because, well...I LOVE products. Please don't look at my bathroom, it's like a Sephora puked in there after a hurricane hit an Ulta.
The problem with my product addiction is that there really aren't many affordable natural/organic options for specific products I was looking for.
As a breast cancer survivor, I've long wrestled with the deodorant conundrum. Do I wear mainstream store bought deodorant and risk developing more problems or even worse, possibly Alzheimer's Disease? Or do I take the even bigger risk of using the "natural" stuff which sometimes fails me?
As a cloth diapering mother, I was on an endless search for the perfect diaper balm for my son. One that was cloth-diaper safe (would completely absorb into the skin or rinse completely clean from the diaper) and yet highly effective.
As a diabetic woman, I've struggled with chronic skin problems related to candida.
And, as a total girly girl, I've searched high and low for a lip gloss that is yummy, stays put but isn't too sticky, and isn't packed with petro chems for me (or my loved ones) to lick or kiss off.
So, what's a naturally-minded, tree hugging hippie product addict with a passion for kitchen creation to do? DUH. I hit the kitchen and started mixing up my own potions. It started innocently enough. My "natural" deodorant wasn't as effective and failproof as I'd like it to be, and then the ingredients started irritating my sensitive skin. As my sensitive, irritated skin broke, it fell victim to every woman's worst nightmare: yeast. I had a raging, flaming, burning infection in my armpit! After trying everything out there on myself, I finally concocted my own little balm to heal the skin. It worked! Based on that recipe, I branched out and developed an all natural, 99% organic, so-safe-my-two-year-old-could-EAT-it! deodorant. It's crazy effective, pampers the skin and keeps stank away better than anything else I've tried. Since I was getting good at this whole making my own skin creams stuff, I tried to formulate a diaper balm that I could use on my son's sensitive skin that would cooperate with cloth diapering. Hooray! Problem solved. And last, but not least, I merged everything I'd learned so far with all my trials and errors into a moisturizing and delicious lip gloss/balm. Booyah!
I was pretty excited about my little stash of potions because they solved a lot of problems for me. Then one night, my mom was over. She needed to go to CVS for a prescription. She told me she had a skin-based yeast infection in the crease of her stomach. Every c-section mama knows that crease. Unless you still have the super flat tummy of a 16 year old, you know that crease. Oh, my poor mother. She suffered through spraying alcohol based yeast medicines on that very sensitive and painful rash. I mixed up a small pot of my little yeastie beastie wonder balm for her. She was skeptical. She took it home, but insisted on using her torture cream from the drugstore. Until the night that the combined pain from her rash and the medicine kept her from sleeping! She got up in the middle of the night, scrubbed off that nasty chemical-laden cream that was scorching her skin and smoothed on a dab of my concoction. She said she felt the pain relief instantly as the soothing ingredients calmed her skin and fought the rash naturally. In the morning, her infection was gone and her skin nearly completely healed. She begged me to sell this stuff, as surely countless other people could benefit from it.
A few weeks later, I read Peter Bregman's article on cnn.com about Madame Alexander dolls and I was inspired. There it was. The slight kick in the pants that I needed: "Madame Alexander had a wise model for finding work. She started a business doing work she loved, with people she loved, solving a problem others were willing to pay money to have solved. It was a small company that took very little investment but gave her and others meaningful, sustainable work.
In other words, start a business in your kitchen with your sisters."
Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle started floating together. The best ex-boyfriend in the world sent me a post on Facebook telling me that if I ever started my own product line, he had the best name for it and I could use it if I wanted to. While it may or may not have come to him in a sangria-soaked moment, it was actually a pretty great name. I owe a heartfelt thank you to my devoted and supportive husband, my beautiful son, my mom, Mother Earth, CNN, sangria and Jaylo for developing the perfect storm of ideas.
I hardly expect the sales of my products to replace my family's former income. But the idea of "meaningful, sustainable work" appeals to me greatly. Beyond that, I'm a giver...a sharer by nature. I can't wait to share the great stuff I've made with the rest of the world. I can't wait to help others out with the same problems I've struggled with. When I was working as a certified massage therapist, I found the work very rewarding and personally fulfilling as I took great delight in healing people's pain with nothing but my hands. I see these products as an extension of my passion for helping people. And so, About Face Naturals was born.
About Face isn't only about, you know, the face. Granted, I have one tiny product that is intended for facial application. In the future, I'd like to develop more products intended for facial use. About Face is an attitude - an invitation, if you will. Forget everything you know about using mainstream products to take care of your skin, forget supporting huge corporations with your hard earned money, forget applying products with toxic ingredients, and forget spending a fortune on them. Turn about face from all of that nonsense, and try something completely different.
Packaging is on order, website is parked and under construction, product labels are being designed. My goal is to be up and running in about a month's time. Get ready to experience About Face Naturals.
Well, for years I've had a dream of creating and selling my own product line. Because, well...I LOVE products. Please don't look at my bathroom, it's like a Sephora puked in there after a hurricane hit an Ulta.
The problem with my product addiction is that there really aren't many affordable natural/organic options for specific products I was looking for.
As a breast cancer survivor, I've long wrestled with the deodorant conundrum. Do I wear mainstream store bought deodorant and risk developing more problems or even worse, possibly Alzheimer's Disease? Or do I take the even bigger risk of using the "natural" stuff which sometimes fails me?
As a cloth diapering mother, I was on an endless search for the perfect diaper balm for my son. One that was cloth-diaper safe (would completely absorb into the skin or rinse completely clean from the diaper) and yet highly effective.
As a diabetic woman, I've struggled with chronic skin problems related to candida.
And, as a total girly girl, I've searched high and low for a lip gloss that is yummy, stays put but isn't too sticky, and isn't packed with petro chems for me (or my loved ones) to lick or kiss off.
So, what's a naturally-minded, tree hugging hippie product addict with a passion for kitchen creation to do? DUH. I hit the kitchen and started mixing up my own potions. It started innocently enough. My "natural" deodorant wasn't as effective and failproof as I'd like it to be, and then the ingredients started irritating my sensitive skin. As my sensitive, irritated skin broke, it fell victim to every woman's worst nightmare: yeast. I had a raging, flaming, burning infection in my armpit! After trying everything out there on myself, I finally concocted my own little balm to heal the skin. It worked! Based on that recipe, I branched out and developed an all natural, 99% organic, so-safe-my-two-year-old-could-EAT-it! deodorant. It's crazy effective, pampers the skin and keeps stank away better than anything else I've tried. Since I was getting good at this whole making my own skin creams stuff, I tried to formulate a diaper balm that I could use on my son's sensitive skin that would cooperate with cloth diapering. Hooray! Problem solved. And last, but not least, I merged everything I'd learned so far with all my trials and errors into a moisturizing and delicious lip gloss/balm. Booyah!
I was pretty excited about my little stash of potions because they solved a lot of problems for me. Then one night, my mom was over. She needed to go to CVS for a prescription. She told me she had a skin-based yeast infection in the crease of her stomach. Every c-section mama knows that crease. Unless you still have the super flat tummy of a 16 year old, you know that crease. Oh, my poor mother. She suffered through spraying alcohol based yeast medicines on that very sensitive and painful rash. I mixed up a small pot of my little yeastie beastie wonder balm for her. She was skeptical. She took it home, but insisted on using her torture cream from the drugstore. Until the night that the combined pain from her rash and the medicine kept her from sleeping! She got up in the middle of the night, scrubbed off that nasty chemical-laden cream that was scorching her skin and smoothed on a dab of my concoction. She said she felt the pain relief instantly as the soothing ingredients calmed her skin and fought the rash naturally. In the morning, her infection was gone and her skin nearly completely healed. She begged me to sell this stuff, as surely countless other people could benefit from it.
A few weeks later, I read Peter Bregman's article on cnn.com about Madame Alexander dolls and I was inspired. There it was. The slight kick in the pants that I needed: "Madame Alexander had a wise model for finding work. She started a business doing work she loved, with people she loved, solving a problem others were willing to pay money to have solved. It was a small company that took very little investment but gave her and others meaningful, sustainable work.
In other words, start a business in your kitchen with your sisters."
Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle started floating together. The best ex-boyfriend in the world sent me a post on Facebook telling me that if I ever started my own product line, he had the best name for it and I could use it if I wanted to. While it may or may not have come to him in a sangria-soaked moment, it was actually a pretty great name. I owe a heartfelt thank you to my devoted and supportive husband, my beautiful son, my mom, Mother Earth, CNN, sangria and Jaylo for developing the perfect storm of ideas.
I hardly expect the sales of my products to replace my family's former income. But the idea of "meaningful, sustainable work" appeals to me greatly. Beyond that, I'm a giver...a sharer by nature. I can't wait to share the great stuff I've made with the rest of the world. I can't wait to help others out with the same problems I've struggled with. When I was working as a certified massage therapist, I found the work very rewarding and personally fulfilling as I took great delight in healing people's pain with nothing but my hands. I see these products as an extension of my passion for helping people. And so, About Face Naturals was born.
About Face isn't only about, you know, the face. Granted, I have one tiny product that is intended for facial application. In the future, I'd like to develop more products intended for facial use. About Face is an attitude - an invitation, if you will. Forget everything you know about using mainstream products to take care of your skin, forget supporting huge corporations with your hard earned money, forget applying products with toxic ingredients, and forget spending a fortune on them. Turn about face from all of that nonsense, and try something completely different.
Packaging is on order, website is parked and under construction, product labels are being designed. My goal is to be up and running in about a month's time. Get ready to experience About Face Naturals.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The sinking of my Titanic
For the past few years, I've been blessed with an easy and financially worry-free life. I've had everything I could have wanted, or asked for, and then some. I've been comfortable with money to spare. I've been on both sides of the coin in my life - I've had next to nothing, and I've had my cup running over. I could deal with a happy medium, but for the past few years it has been lovely to just live and enjoy it without worry for the next day. It's been a lovely cruise of comfort, security and material success.
And then we hit an iceberg. It was a horrific, violent crash and the ship has been sinking ever-so-slowly since. We're in the last days of sinking...I'm feeling frantic and frightened.
My friend Brandi described her family's experience with the very same thing as this...you run around, screaming and scared and you try as best you can to bail out the water but it keeps on coming in faster than you can dig out. So you become even more terrified, yelling and clawing and scurrying about...until finally, you bail into the tiny and frail life raft (that you're not sure can safely get you to shore) and see the balance of your cruise ship sink into the dark abyss.
Glug glug glug.
And just like that, your strong ship of success and security is gone without a trace.
And then the screaming stops. There is nothing left but you and your family, and an ocean of overwhelming possibilities and fear. You float on, getting seasick at times, and all around you is a deafening cloud of silence that overcomes you. There is no crying anymore, no more yelling and no more of that anxious and evil anticipation that ate a hole through your stomach. It all just kind of floats away. Because it's here now - the day you had been dreading, the dawn whose threat has kept you awake at night and stolen your appetite, motivation and energy during the day. It's here now, and there's no denying it and no more fighting it. It's here, so you learn to work with it and peacefully co-exist with it until a rescue boat finds you or you find a shore.
I am so emotionally spent from months of worry and fear. I feel sad to say that at this point, the final sinking is almost a welcome release from the anxiety and dread that has ruled over my life for months.
Come, sea! Come, future! Come quickly and take me with you. Come quickly and show us the next stop on our journey. The sooner the ship sinks, the faster we are free to row away together in our tiny life raft to an exciting new chapter in our lives. I'm ready to transition into whatever the future holds. Just get me off this ship.
And then we hit an iceberg. It was a horrific, violent crash and the ship has been sinking ever-so-slowly since. We're in the last days of sinking...I'm feeling frantic and frightened.
My friend Brandi described her family's experience with the very same thing as this...you run around, screaming and scared and you try as best you can to bail out the water but it keeps on coming in faster than you can dig out. So you become even more terrified, yelling and clawing and scurrying about...until finally, you bail into the tiny and frail life raft (that you're not sure can safely get you to shore) and see the balance of your cruise ship sink into the dark abyss.
Glug glug glug.
And just like that, your strong ship of success and security is gone without a trace.
And then the screaming stops. There is nothing left but you and your family, and an ocean of overwhelming possibilities and fear. You float on, getting seasick at times, and all around you is a deafening cloud of silence that overcomes you. There is no crying anymore, no more yelling and no more of that anxious and evil anticipation that ate a hole through your stomach. It all just kind of floats away. Because it's here now - the day you had been dreading, the dawn whose threat has kept you awake at night and stolen your appetite, motivation and energy during the day. It's here now, and there's no denying it and no more fighting it. It's here, so you learn to work with it and peacefully co-exist with it until a rescue boat finds you or you find a shore.
I am so emotionally spent from months of worry and fear. I feel sad to say that at this point, the final sinking is almost a welcome release from the anxiety and dread that has ruled over my life for months.
Come, sea! Come, future! Come quickly and take me with you. Come quickly and show us the next stop on our journey. The sooner the ship sinks, the faster we are free to row away together in our tiny life raft to an exciting new chapter in our lives. I'm ready to transition into whatever the future holds. Just get me off this ship.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
This inspired me today
Wait And See - Brandon Heath
In particular, these lyrics:
There is hope for me yet
Because God won't forget
All the plans he's made for me
I have to wait and see
He's not finished with me yet
Still wondering why I'm here
Still wrestling with my fear
But oh, He's up to something
And the farther on I go
I've seen enough to know
That I'm, not here for nothing
He's up to something
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
