So Much Stuff

Yesterday I helped a friend who is moving to my city from a larger city not too far away. I well remember how chaotic and stressful moving can be, having done it myself just over a year ago. I had lived for sixteen years in my previous home, so had a lot of decisions to make about what to keep and what to part with. After three garage sales I still had a load of stuff to donate to a local church that was about to have their annual yard sale fundraiser. I threw stuff away and gave stuff to Goodwill, all the while wondering how I had come to have all this in the first place.

My friend has moved many times, lives alone, and has never owned a home, so I rather expected that her possessions would be efficiently minimal. After loading the contents of two small storage units and things from her apartment, I decided that my expectation did not line up with the reality of the situation. And there is yet another storage unit in another city, and some stuff in a relative’s basement. I guess that moving a lot, living alone, and not owning a home have little to do with how much stuff one accumulates.

Now the big question is this: Why do we feel the need to surround ourselves with stuff? What is the irresistible attraction in having such a vast and varied collection and ever adding to it? I found it very freeing to get rid of stuff that I no longer needed or didn’t like all that well anyway. At the time, I though that I’d really accomplished something significant through my efforts to simplify. Now though, I still feel like I have too much stuff and while I desire the freedom I would find by getting rid of more, I look around me and find little that I’m willing to part with. I really don’t understand my attachment to some of my stuff; after all, my stuff is not me and neither does it define who I am. Besides that, the older I get the more likely I am to forget exactly what all I have anyway; and even if I do remember….well, let’s just say the the likelihood of finding a particular item at the exact time when I want or need it is not great.

Stuff….I wonder if in other cultures it has the apparent importance that it holds for most of us in this country? I suspect the answer to that question is no, if for no other reason than that in most parts of the world people can’t afford to buy as much, or to keep as much. All I know is that I need to be careful to keep things in perspective; otherwise, my stuff will be owning me, rather than me owning it.

Season of Change and Wondering

I listen to the gentle night-song of the crickets and…….hummm, I guess I don’t know what it is that is making that other humming sound. At any rate, it is beautiful music, and I cherish it knowing that all too soon summer will be over. Already the deck behind my house is littered with yellow and brown willow leaves. The time of dying has begun; the cycle of seasonal life goes on.

Life seasons are changing as well for me. School begins next week, and as a teacher that means my whole life-style changes. The excitement of beginning the learning adventure with a new class will wear off all too soon, and then it will become real work to keep up with everything. Work will come home with me many days and even when I don’t bring anything home, my mind will not cease to ponder how best to meet the needs of my students.

I’ve always loved fall; the season of change and of dying and also of new beginning. I come to this fall though with the burden of being the sole breadwinner in my home and the responsibility of seeing that my dear husband has everything he needs to get well. It’s been more than a month now that he’s been stuck at home with me as his only companion, and I am concerned about how he will do with me being gone so much of each day. He has only one friend to call, and none that call him. We don’t attend the same church any longer and most of my friends have never even met him. He has yet to make friends at his church, and now that he can’t even go…. It saddens me, knowing that he is so alone. I sometimes wonder though exactly where responsibility ends and healthy boundaries begin for me in relationship to hubby. Is it my duty to attempt to save him from himself and his failure to pursue relationships? It is at a time like this that the need for relationships is underscored. It is not my fault that hubby is so lacking in this area. Yet I wonder if it would be right for me to leave in the evening after being gone at work all day, to attend an evening activity, and leave him alone again. I also wonder how I will survive without the fellowship of the Tuesday evening book/Bible study I am a part of at my church. Only God can answer my questions, so I’ll have to keep listening. It is a comfort to know that He at least, has all the answers.

Sunday Morning Observation

Sunday…..it’s always such a relief to have Sunday roll around again. I suppose I could live without a lot of things if I had to, but I’m not at all sure I could live without the Eucharist for long.Today a man was in church who had never been there before. This handsome Latino boldly walked to the third row from the front and took a seat. As I observed him I remembered in contrast how I made sure I sat in the back for the first few months so I had plenty of people to watch to see how to do things, and so fewer would notice when I goofed. (I still goof on occasion, but I don’t care much anymore.)

Once one has received the elements of the Eucharist, in my church anyway, one arises from the alter rail after a brief pause and returns to one’s seat. The new guy must not have realized that because he just stayed there, appearing to be praying intently. When it was my turn to approach the alter I knelt next to him and briefly wondered if I should tell him he could go back to his seat. But my next thought was that maybe he needed to stay there and that was more important than protocol. He was doing the very thing that I have wished many times that I could do myself; just stay there in the presence of the Holy One. When the priest brought the bread around she spoke quietly to him in Spanish, and he got up and returned to his seat and all was back to normal.

I glad that this man came today and hope he comes back. And if he does feel the need to remain at the alter rail in prayer I hope he will just go ahead and do it; in fact, if any of us feel such a need I hope we will get to the point when we can just do it. We all need to have the courage, or the ingnorance of protocol, to do whatever we need to do to meet God where we are.

Without Fear

Do not be afraid.

Without fear you can go wherever you desire.

Without fear you can go everywhere I lead.

I went to the library today, just because I enjoy going there. I found a couple of interesting books on spiritual matters that are likely to shake up my belief system even more than it is already. That’s not a bad thing though. As I was sitting there reading I clearly heard the voice of the Holy Spirit speak to me the words written above, completely unbidden and unexpected. I have no doubt from where the words came though….I know that voice like I know the voice of my own mother. Fear is my Big Enemy, my Weak Point, and the thing I want most to be set free from so these words are very meaningful.

In the spirit of these words of the Spirit I make the decision right now to no longer be concerned with anyone’s reaction to the fact that God speaks to me. I’ve realized that I make excuses for this and even at times behave like I’m ashamed that it’s happened. Certainly I hide the fact from most people. But why? What does it matter what anyone should think? I am blessed and I accept the blessing. I don’t know why God blesses me in this way but I don’t have to understand. I only need to NOT FEAR. For I know that without fear, I will be able to hear His voice more clearly and more often, and that is my desire.

Random Thoughts

I live in luxury. I have a lovely home with running water, electricity, air conditioning, landscaped yard, comfortable furniture, and a new roof. I have a cell phone and high speed internet. I have a reliable car. I have no desire for anything more luxurious than what I have, but I do want to hang on to it. I have moments when I suddenly become aware of two things: First that I have so much more than most women on this planet and secondly that I could lose it all. Just this week, two houses blew up due to a gas leak in another city in my state. Last spring someone in the area lost everything because of a fire that started in the dryer. A tornado could blow through. I could become unable to work for some reason and in a few months have no money for the mortgage. A million things could happen.


I think I need to make a conscious decision to do things that energize me. I need to make myself do such things even if I’m not in the mood. Like exercising, listening to music, reading a good book, starting the day (everyday) with prayer, doing things I enjoy, writing, being around and with people, and being outdoors. I get stuck sometimes and stay in and zone out playing “my stupid computer game” or less often, watching TV. Sometimes I even wander around the house not getting much of anything done, feeling restless, yet seemingly incapable of breaking the cycle. I don’t know what causes this. I only know that I waste a lot of time and time is precious. I don’t want to do this anymore.


I sometimes think that I should “get my affairs in order” so to speak. Organize the photographs stuffed in drawers and boxes, and go through my old journals and destroy anything that would be harmful for my family to read should they ever do so….stuff like that. Life is so fragile. Last spring a mother was driving her two kids the mile to my school one rainy morning. They didn’t make it to school that day, and she never went home again.


My thoughts are getting darker….time to stop thinking for now.

What a Day

It’s been an eventful day. Took hubby to the city for appointment with eye specialist and….there is much improvement!! (smile, cheer) While driving on the freeway on the way home, traffic stopped for no apparant reason and we were rear ended. (boo, frown) It could have been much worse however. (sigh) Barely any damage to my car although the other car was crunched. (smile) Even though it was a light bump I did see my chiropractor as a precaution. Dr. L was all pessimistic about what could happen even though I think I’m feeling fine. (glare, boo) I refuse to buy into this doom and gloom. I know he’s just trying to do his job, but really! (stubborn smile)
Hubby is feeling better although he still can’t see. (more cheers, whistles, high-fives) We have much to be thankful for. (fireworks in background amidst cheers)

Mercy

I read something last evening that has had me thinking all day. MikeF at The Mercy Blog
begins his Aug. 20 post with these words: “I am beginning to think that God’s mercy is one of his least understood qualities in these days.”

I believe that I am just now, in the past 8-12 months, beginning to understand God’s mercy. While I had read about mercy, sung songs about it, and heard teaching on it, I know that deep in my spirit I really did not get it. How do I know that? When one truly understands mercy one will willingly extend it, and far too often I did not do that. Lord, forgive me.

I thought I was doing the right thing. Things were pretty black and white in the brand of Christianity I was involved in and all I ever really wanted was to be pleasing to God. So how could I condone (by extending mercy) the behavior of someone whom I was convinced was clearly acting in an unscriptural manner? Such compromise would surely be displeasing to God, or so I thought. All around me I saw judgment in the name of “doing the right thing”. While I saw the error in some of this thinking, (especially when I was on the receiving end of the judgment), in other instances I merely emulated what I saw around me. I just wanted to be a good Christian.

I held others to high standards and held myself to even higher ones. I not only could not easily extend mercy to others, but certainly could not extend it to myself. I was always painfully aware of my many shortcomings and constantly begged God for his forgiveness; for his mercy. I don’t think I was able to accept it very often though… not really. Maybe I didn’t really understand repentance either. At any rate, this “good girl” ended up doing some bad things, largely because I simply gave up; I could never be good enough anyway.

God, in his mercy, opened my eyes to my misguided thinking. He led me to the Episcopal church and began to show me a different way of thinking and living; a way full of love, acceptance, and mercy. A whole new world has been opened up to me and it includes people with beliefs much the same as mine as well as those who think very differently. For the first time, I know in the very deepest part of me that I am completely accepted by God because his mercy is unfathomable. Because I know that I am accepted, I repent and accept the forgiveness offered. Because I can completely accept God’s mercy in his forgiveness, I can forgive myself. Because I am beginning to understand God’s mercy, I find that I am not only able to extend mercy, but often eager to do so.

Things are not so black and white anymore. I have a lot of questions and I’ve realized that there are no certain answers to many of them. What I do know for sure is this: If I am to error, I would rather error on the side of love and mercy than that of judgment. If I may be so bold as to say so, I believe that this surely is the will of God.

Time to Wait

It’s a beautiful late summer morning. Sunny and cool and full of promise. Yet my heart is heavy. Hubby is still in pain and the eye is still sick and I am waiting on God to come through.
Actually, it makes me a little nervous to wait on a God to whom a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. (II Peter 3:8) This God owns time. Our concept of time can not even come close to the reality that is known only to God himself. What I consider to be a long time may not even be a second on God’s clock. Of course God is also not constrained by time. For God, it is never too late.

Prayer
Lord God, my times are in your hands. Help me to see beyond the moment, yet live fully in the moment. Help me to be patient and faithful as I wait upon you. Help me to make the most of the time you grant to me. Help me to always take the time to seek you. Amen.

My Prayer

I remember the days of old,

I think about all your deeds,

I meditate on the works of your hands.

I stretch out my hands to you;

my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.

Answer me quickly, O Lord; my spirit fails.

Do not hide your face from me,

or I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.

Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning,

for in you I put my trust.

Teach me the way I should go,

for to you I lift up my soul.

Psalm 143:5-8 NRSV

 

Story of God’s Faithfulness

I wrote about faith yesterday, and today I feel like I’m holding on by a thread. My prayers have gone something like this today: “Come on God, do something already! How LONG is my poor husband supposed to endure this pain? Help!”
It’s at times like this that it is good to remember God’s faithfulness in the past. Like the Psalms that recount stories of God’s faithfulness to the children of Israel. So I remember….

It was the late 1980’s and I had 2 pre-school age children. Nearly single handedly I had been putting together a retreat for the women of my church. I had been blessed to have attended some wonderful retreats in the past and most of these women had never had this experience. I wasn’t just doing this for fun mind you; I felt that the Lord was directing me to do this.
Four weeks before the retreat was to take place I was struggling to get over a bronchial infection. I had begun to feel some pain in my back and my (idiot) doctor did not believe me when I insisted that it was not from coughing. One afternoon while I was home alone with the children I became so ill that I didn’t even realize how ill I was. My fever spiked and I went to lie in bed upstairs for a few minutes while the kids watched TV downstairs. (This goes to show that I couldn’t think straight: in that old house I would not have heard them up there even if they had screamed.) I couldn’t get up. I could hardly think. I remember praying that God would send an angel to babysit my kids and I fell into a fitful, fevered sleep.
When hubby got home from work he found the kids playing and watching TV. They were just fine. God was faithful.
I called a Dr. I used to go to and explained the situation: she told me to go to the hospital and she would call ahead so that I could be admitted quickly. A friend was available to take me so husband could stay with the kids. God was faithful again.
One of the first nurses I encountered at the hospital started talking about her church, for some reason. I felt greatly comforted to be cared for by a believer. God was faithful one more time.
I ended up in the hospital for 4 days (with pneumonia) during which time I endured the pain, prayed a lot, and read Frank Peretti’s book This Present Darkness. I have asthma, which complicated things a bit. I remember being pretty much at peace, under the circumstances. God’s spirit was with me, and I was very aware of that fact. I was concerned about getting everything done for the retreat, but put it in God’s hands. The post-mistress from our little town sent me flowers and I was extremely blessed. God was faithful and used one of his humble servants, to accomplish his plan.
My mom came to care for the children and stayed a few days after I got home. I had missed my children terribly and was so happy to be home with them. The kids didn’t want to let me out of their sight. God was faithful. God blessed me.

I regained my strength quickly enough to get everything done for the retreat. I know I could not have done this without God’s help. It was an awesome weekend and the women were very blessed. Again, God was faithful.

 

 

God does not change. If he was faithful then, he is still faithful now. No matter how things appear, I can count upon the faithfulness of my God.