One Strand of Lights

There's always at least one Clark Griswold moment in my holiday decorating. Usually it occurs when one strand of annoying Christmas lights refuses to twinkle after being strung on the tree. All of that time and effort to carefully wrap the lights in between the branches, all of the anticipation of a beautifully lit tree and.......nothing. CLARK!!!!!!

This year began with a ginormous strand of broken lights in my life.  I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say that things were messy and painful.  The darkness of that one little strand of lights began to eclipse the light of all of the others.  I was drowning in grief from hidden sorrow.  The unspoken story of my life haunted me and a deep fear that I would not find my way back to a fully lit life consumed me.   My faith suffered, my health took a nose-dive and I was worried that I would lose my job.  I was barely functioning.

I tried desperately to fix those tiny, broken pieces of glass, but I couldn't do it.  For a long time I wallowed in the depressing darkness.  But then I was reminded that light was living and breathing in me and would eventually triumph over the blackness.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

This year when I put up my tree there was one pesky strand of lights that promptly quit working.  At first I focused all of my energy on making them twinkle, but then I gave up.  I sat and stared at my tree in disappointment.  I was focused on the unlit strand and what it represented to me when I finally noticed the other lights.  Their brightness was contagious and eventually I no longer focused on the darkness. 

Those little shimmering lights became symbols for me: of deeper faith, comforting hugs, intimate friendships, a family's laughter, my dog's snuggle, Maya's smile, life.  The list is unending.  Yes, there will always be broken lights, shards of darkness that try to steal the light, horrible memories, atrocities, deception, betrayal.  I refuse to ignore them any longer, I will acknowledge how they shape(d) me and choose to learn from them instead of fearing them.  The light Who lives in me will illuminate my path and overcome the darkness from the broken strand of lights. 

May the broken strands in your life intertwine with the light of Christ's life and unending, redeeming love.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

A Season of Silence

Have you ever been in that place where there is so much you want to say, so many thoughts swirling in your head and no matter how hard you try you cannot articulate them?  That's where I am now. 

My voice has entered a season of silence.  No matter how badly I want to speak all I can manage is to listen for that still small voice. 

Maybe soon my messes can be untangled and I can find a way to speak the things that have temporarily silenced me.  Maybe.

I'll close with the lyrics to one of my favorite songs by Andrew Peterson, "The Silence of God":

It's enough to drive a man crazy; it'll break a man's faith

It's enough to make him wonder if he's ever been sane

When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod

And the heaven's only answer is the silence of God

It'll shake a man's timbers when he loses his heart

When he has to remember what broke him apart

This yoke may be easy, but this burden is not

When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God

And if a man has got to listen to the voices of the mob

Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they've got

When they tell you all their troubles have been nailed up to that cross

Then what about the times when even followers get lost?

'Cause we all get lost sometimes...

There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll

In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold

And He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone

All His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all alone

And the man of all sorrows, he never forgot

What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought

So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God

The aching may remain, but the breaking does not

The aching may remain, but the breaking does not

In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God

39 and Holding

As I find myself staring down the last year of my thirties I wonder how I got here. How did I become the girl who no one loves? This birthday is hitting me harder than I thought it would because, even though I have a year to go, I've accepted the fact that one of my biggest fears is imminent:

I will be single when I turn 40

Gulp. It may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but it is the death of yet another dream, my most cherished one in fact, and it has shattered my ability to hope. Last year was unkind to me and all I want to do now is crawl under my covers and stay there for a really, really long time. I don't want anyone close to the gaping hole in my heart because it's too painful. I already gave up my dreams of children and a family to call my own, and even though it isn't the end of the world, being an Old Maid is not something I aspired to.

But hey, at least I can hog the remote, spend my money how I choose and set the thermostat where I want.....those are the "positives" my married friends point out to me. Yeah, FYI that's NOT helpful. I do, however, have Europe, and even though I often travel alone I enjoy people watching while sipping tea in an elegant cafe. I also love seeing art that I never see here, and glimpsing history that was left out of World History 101. It's a pleasant break from my life of boredom and I'd rather explore this beautiful world than not, even if I have to do it alone. Do you think it counts if I turn 39 in a foreign country? Can I choose to stay 39 until I get married? If so, I promise I'll give up the remote control without complaining, but money and the thermostat will take some serious negotiations!

Nervous In The Light Of Dawn

This is my favorite song of late. Other than the hauntingly beautiful music and angelic voice of Leigh Nash, it perfectly captures my mood. It's on repeat in my CD player. Amazing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDtmKBCOaso (ignore the cheesy video, just listen to the song.)

"Nervous In The Light Of Dawn"

Dreamed I was in a desert, without any luck
Storm gray clouds, hovering above
Silence all around me, I was wandering alone
And I realized, there is nothing, anyone can really own

And I wished for guidance, and I wished for peace
I could see the lightning, somewhere in the east
And I wished for affection, and I wished for calm
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn

It's hard to change, and it's hard to move
It takes years for rough, to be made smooth
You can use up all of your precious energy
To be tossed like a shell, from the hungry sea

And I wished for guidance, and I wished for peace
I could see the lightning, somewhere in the east
And I wished for affection, and I wished for calm
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn

Hold me, in your arms, until I fall asleep
I'm so tired....
Hold me...

And I wished for guidance, and I wished for peace
I could see the lightning, somewhere in the east
And I wished for affection, and I wished for calm
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn

Undeserved Extravagance

Someone gave me a really expensive, extravagant gift this week, something I would never purchase for myself. Ever. I almost went into the ugly cry as I thanked this generous gift-giver because all I could think was, "I don't deserve this. If you only knew how black my heart is, or how often I fake things you would agree with me."

And I remembered that the most extravagant gift I have ever received was completely undeserved. I could never perform well enough or be good enough to earn it. And this gift-giver already knew the truth about me before he paid the price. He already knew the really dark and ugly stuff, he already knew all of my sin and all of my shame. Yet he loved me enough to prove that I was worth the effort and the heartache. It's the purest love I've ever known and my most treasured gift.

Tonight my heart is full because on that holy night 2000 years ago, as creation was groaning in the darkness, the birth of a long expected baby ushered in hope for mankind. It was undeserved extravagance.


Blessings to you this Christmas. May you find peace for your soul and experience the freedom that comes from being intimately known and loved exactly as you are.

Hurricanes and Hope

As I watched the news showing the devastation left along the Texas coast after Hurricane Ike, I remembered my experiences as a shelter volunteer after Hurricane Katrina 3 years ago. So much devastation countered by so much hope. I'm thankful that my family and friends in the Houston area are safe and I pray that those who lost so much this weekend find the same hope I saw in those who survived Hurricane Katrina.

"Perspective in a Sea of Faces"


September 3, 2005
1:30 am

I can’t sleep. My dreams are haunted by the sea of faces, some desperate, some void of emotion, some reflecting the trauma they were experiencing, who now call Kelly USA home. Stranded for days in deplorable conditions, without water, food or sanitation, stuck on rooftops, under bridges, or in hospitals. I could smell the suffering in the air, mixed with the smell of the sweat-soaked bodies of the determined but exhausted survivors of Hurricane Katrina’s wrath.

Gone was the luxury of privacy, replaced by row upon row of individual cots, many without pillows or blankets. Silence was stolen by the rustling of thousands of people now calling an old Airforce base home. There was a constant, low murmur as people talked amongst themselves, sometimes replaced by angry shouts as frustration and misery boiled to the surface, only to be calmed by armed police officers.

My job in Section 2B, was to walk around and listen to people’s stories, to offer encouragement, to take them to get basic necessities like underwear and toothbrushes, to direct them to the cafeteria, missing person’s center, telephone bank, showers (not private showers, but tent showers set up outside), and most importantly to help them to find their dignity.

It’s not easy to survive a catastrophe and still find hope. Yet everywhere I turned I saw it. Reflected in the eyes of 12 year old Kevin, who performed a rap for me and taught me a cool new handshake, which I have to say beats the wimpy “white” girl handshake I was using! In the eyes of his friend, aptly named Robin, who told me that he liked 3 Doors Down and then joined me in singing “Here Without You”, before giving me a big hug and asking me to come back the next day for another one. In the Coleman family, who thanked me over and over again for “everything” I had done, even though I had done nothing but sit with them and listen to their story. A family who was happy to be together in an air conditioned room, with water and food, and whose happiness turned to sheer joy once we located much needed underwear.

I saw determination in the eyes of the medical workers from University Hospital in downtown New Orleans. Stuck for days with patients they couldn’t treat, finally evacuated by helicopter and then plane, they chose to look toward an uncertain future with hope, not bitterness or anger. Beverly was an amazing woman whose tragedy defined her character. Her frustration was evident, but her faith was stronger than her fear. She was determined to form a small business to help the poorest of the poor learn how to escape their poverty. She wanted to be proactive, to make a difference in her corner of the world.

One of my most treasured books is “Whistling in the Dark, A Doubter’s Dictionary”, by Frederick Buechner. Here’s an excerpt from my favorite section:

“Faces, like everything else, can be looked at and not seen. ……you’re surrounded by thousands of them. Here and there one of them may catch your eye for a moment, but in another moment you’ve forgotten it. They are without personalities and without histories. There is nothing to remember them by. But, the odds are that for at least one other person somewhere in the world each of them – even the unlikeliest – matters enormously, or mattered enormously once, or someday, with any luck, will come to matter. ……..if you set your mind to it, there’s hardly a one of them you can’t imagine somebody loving…… You can see even the bitter faces in terms of what probably made them that way. You can see even the hostile, ugly faces in terms of what they must have been once before the world got to them, what they might have become if they’d gotten the breaks.”

Those words help me look at others with fresh eyes, to remember that every soul matters, and if there is someone who feels like they don’t matter, then maybe I can show them that they do. So that’s what I did. I loved people, however they needed to be loved. Some required a smile, others a hug, some just a listening and sympathetic ear. When it became emotionally overwhelming I just remembered that each person was a piece of my Father. I extended Christ’s love to them, and tried to give it a human face so they would never forget that they matter. Now that I know a little of the personalities behind some of those faces, they will not be forgotten.

I will return to love them again with a fresh perspective. I will remember that no matter how “hard” my life seems, it could always be worse. I will care less about my own comfort and more about the comfort of others. To remember that the most important things in life have nothing to do with the size of my house, my car, or fitting into smaller jeans, but with giving myself to family, friends and fellow humans in good times and bad. I will look at the sea of faces and strive to learn their story and to love them extravagantly, even if I get nothing out of it, simply because I am loved extravagantly.

Great Expectations

I had such great expectations when I was young. Expectations of how my life would play out and of who the characters would be.... how many children I would have, how wonderful my husband would be and how perfect I would be as both a wife and mother. (Yes I know, a very idealized view, perhaps almost as idealized as the single lifestyle is by married folks........grass is always greener!) Those expectations were formed in my ultra conservative private school and on Sundays as I was bombarded with the message that they were the nirvana of womanhood. Now that those worthy goals have been shattered by reality I find it hard to keep believing that doctrine.

In the pain of accepting both God's and my own choices for my life I cringe when the church teaches that there is no higher calling for a woman than M&M: marriage and motherhood. What does that mean for me, a single and childless woman? The very teaching implies that my life has less value because of my romantic failures and broken body! I'm smart enough to know that the doctrine is a lie but it is so deeply embedded in my soul, and in the soul of the church, that sometimes I live like I still believe it, especially because M&M are the only two things I ever really wanted. Therein lies the problem.

Lately I've been asked repeatedly how I deal with the disappointment and loneliness without extreme bitterness. After one friend asked a variation of that question her husband wisely asked "what makes you think she has?" Nailed it. It's definitely a roller coaster for me, some days are good and some days are very, very bad. As I contemplated the question I remembered the countless nights I've cried myself to sleep; the numerous times I've awakened to the sound of silence, keenly aware that I will not be hearing a baby's cry (who wishes for that right?); or the thousands of times I've arrived home to an empty house with no one to share the dailiness of living. The cold, hard fact is that there is no one who cares about the mundane things in my life like whether or not traffic was terrible; if a patient yelled at me; if I had a delicious lunch; or....you get the idea. Every day I arrive home and face the reality that no one is there for me in the little things, and it's in the little things where I'm the most lonely, and the most susceptible to bitterness.

Today my personal challenge (can't worry about tomorrow's challenge) is to let Christ transform my life into something of value because of who he is. To invite him into the pain and disappointment, into the loneliness and heartbreak instead of denying that they are present. That's a risky proposition because being honest about the excruciating loneliness means that I must be vulnerable to God AND to those he has tasked to love me. Many people are uncomfortable with gut-wrenching honesty or authentic expressions of pain, most just want to "fix" the problem (me) and move on. Thankfully I have found a few people who seem to enjoy the challenge that is me, and actually try to love me when I'm impossible and support me when I'm sad. Each time they do I see a little more clearly how deeply my Savior loves me. My prayer is that as I find peace and healing, I will love those friends as purely and support them as selflessly even when their great expectations give way to reality.

BREAKING NEWS!

STRESSED BILLING MANAGER ACCEPTS BETTER OFFER

Here's the scoop. Last Friday I received a phone call from a friend. She had spoken to a doctor who was looking for a new Practice Administrator. She told him about me. He and I spoke on Friday night. His partner called me later on in the evening. We all agreed to meet at the Starbuck's on Blanco and 1604 on Saturday at 3:30 pm. I arrived at 3:15 pm. At 3:45 pm I still did not see the doctors. I paged them and discovered that there are 2 Starbuck's at Blanco and 1604. In that instant I discovered that it is possible to be lost even when it looks like you're in the right place....(I'm sure there's a spiritual analogy there but I'm too tired to delve into it!) Anyway, I drove to the correct Starbuck's and met the long suffering doctors.

We talked for 1 1/2 hours and discussed their practice style, software, staff and all of their expectations. Most encouraging to me was how comfortable we were together. Both are easy to talk to and friendly and have chosen to practice at a slower pace in order to offer their patients the best care. Also, the lead doctor is a man of deep faith. He leads ACTS retreats through his church, performs at least 2 medical mission trips a year and prioritizes his life in the following way:

1. GOD


2. Family


3. Work

By Sunday afternoon I had a very nice offer including 4 WEEKS OF VACATION. Yes, you read that right 4 WEEKS OF VACATION!!!! Do you KNOW how happy that made me??? 4 WEEKS OF VACATION!!!! I would actually be able to visit Laurie in Europe and go on mission trips all in the same year!!! Happy, happy, happy!

Well, enough about my 4 WEEKS OF VACATION!!! The doctor asked me to pray about the offer and I told him I would do that and make a decision on Monday. By Monday morning I was a nervous wreck. The offer just seemed too go to be true and having been burned so much lately I could find NO peace. I got a pep talk from Laurie and then called the doctor to accept the position. Do you know what he said? He said, "Praise the Lord! I prayed about this and told God that it was all in his hands. I am the kind of person who wants the best for everyone so even though I want what is best for my practice, I wanted you to make the best decision for you." At that point I start crying. I'm slightly overwhelmed that someone who doesn't even know me would put my best interests above those of his own.

So yesterday I resigned. My boss told me that I would leave a huge hole...that I had built the business office from nothing and no one can replace me...that I was an investment...that she was sad. Then she offered my position and a much higher salary to another employee 5 minutes later. So much for being an irreplaceable investment! I don't blame her, my news was a huge shock and she has a business to run. I have no bitterness and no regrets and I will leave on good terms. I learned a lot and will miss many of my co-workers, but I have to admit I will not miss working in a closet and dodging vagrants and rats on the 2-block hike to my car!

My last day is July 17. Then I will be enjoying some of my favorite girlfriends for a weekend retreat. I plan to head to the beach or Laity Lodge for a few days the following week so I can chill out before beginning my new job on July 28.

Thanks to everyone who has prayed for me, offered advice or just listened to me whine. Hopefully I will get back to my old self once I begin my new job and have 4 WEEKS OF VACATION to look forward to!!!

Tonight

Tonight I am tired. Tired of caring. Tired of trying. Tired of dreaming. Tired of working. Tired of bothering. Just...plain...tired.

I'm worn out from hoping, and worn out from loving, and worn out from living. Figuring out how to live in this world is exhausting. It's draining the life and soul from me. I'm...worn...out.

Sometimes I wonder why everything has to be so hard. Hope seems fruitless, and people seem cruel, and life seems uninteresting and lonely and pointless. Maybe tomorrow my hormones will be stable and the world will be happier. But not tonight, no tonight is dark and bitter, and my heart is sad, so sad that I cannot even find my tears. Tonight the journey is killing me. Tonight I am angry and disappointed in God and myself and others. Tonight I am selfish. Just...plain...selfish.

Even as I type these words and give legitimacy to the emotions and anger and disappointment mingling in my heart, I feel ridiculous. I feel ridiculous for thinking my life is hard. It really isn't. I feel ridiculous for expecting God to make things easier. I feel ridiculous for not being grateful that he made me a fighter. I...feel...ridiculous.

I feel guilty for not being able to see through the lies that I have embraced. I feel guilty for not being able to cope better than I am at this very moment. I...feel...guilty.

When I face these moments, when I stare down into the pit of despair and decide if I will jump in or jump over it, I feel the heaviness crushing my heart. These are the moments when my choices will either strengthen or weaken my faith. These are the moments when I will decide whether or not I will believe though I cannot see. These are the moments when I will choose whether or not to cement my faith in God's truth or in the enemy's lies. These are the moments when I beg God to help me believe because I am incapable of doing so on my own. These...are...the...moments.

Tomorrow is another day and although the disappointments may be bitter I am comforted. I have hope. I have peace. I have truth. I have love. I have God. I have Jesus. I have the Holy Spirit. I have a future. I have a promise. I...have...faith.