I will be thirty in approximately a month; November 10th to be exact. I am excited and dreadful all at the same time. Excited because I will no longer be in my twenties-Hooray! Dreadful because I look back on the last thirty years and begin to wonder if my life has counted for enough.
If you know me then you know that I am a Type A personality. You know? One of those get-it-done type of people. I can't do a half-assed job at anything and I usually take on way too much all at once. Though these days I have learned the word "no". So then you will also understand my dread at turning thirty and having the sinking feeling that I have not accomplished enough.
I have not accomplished obtaining a degree. I have not given birth. I have not been out of this country but only once to Wales and England. I have not been arrested for protesting.
But then I take a less self-deprecating look at my life and realize that I have accomplished quite a lot. At the young and tender age of 19 years old I moved halfway across the country, away from my parents, and ventured out on my own. I eventually landed a good-paying job and have worked diligently to amass enough experience to support myself. I managed to steer clear of marrying a loser and instead married the love of my life. I have made unique, special, meaningful and cherished friendships with quite a few people that probably know me better than I know myself. I have faced a lot of my demons, stared them down, then walked passed them...leaving them behind me.
There is a country song out there called "In My Next Thirty Years" by Tim McGraw. He talks about doing some things differently and better in the next thirty years. I hope that I can do just that in my next thirty years. At the same time, in my next thirty years, I'm going to cherish the progress that I have made and relish the journey, even the pain, of getting there.
10.14.2010
10.04.2010
It was on Saturday, on a metro train, under the ground
This past Friday night I boarded a charter bus with about forty other people from the Immigration Solidarity Committee. Our destination was Washington D.C. for a march telling Washington that we are one nation standing together, demanding the changes that were promised to us. We became united and lived out our duty as the people for the people.
I was thrilled upon arriving to see all the different people huddled together with their friends and families. The Spanish language was spoken all around us and I felt so excited to be among the Spanish speaking population of Charlotte, NC. Although I felt some anxiety in attempting to speak Spanish myself, I knew this trip would prove to be an awesome opportunity to spruce up on my skills.
For some time now I have felt a deep spiritual emptiness within. My daily struggle to bring about meaning in my days and be productive through action based on my beliefs has become exhausting. The many various illnesses that I suffer from have also impeded some of my zeal and I feel as though I am not doing enough, though the desire is there. My time so far here at Hyaets has also been very trying. My expectations have not been met, though not necessarily through the fault of anyone at Hyaets, but rather through my own desires and the cultivation of what God is doing within me and where he is leading me. So, it was with excitement and also weariness that I boarded the bus to D.C.
I will write more on the rally/march later however, I am compelled to relay an experience I had on the metro going back to the buses to come home. It was myself and Jacob along with about seven other members of ISC (Immigration Solidarity Committee). The metro train was overstuffed with people. It was stuffy and overwhelmed with the smell of hot and sticky people. There were conversations going on all about. After about five minutes sitting on the metro the train came to a halt prematurely and we were stuck waiting for it to continue for about ten minutes.
It was during this time that Gizella, a lovely woman I had met through ISC, and whom I had told of my physical ailments, decided to pray for me. She placed her soft warm hand on my shoulder as we sat side-by-side on one of the benches, closed her eyes and began praying out loud for me. I closed my eyes too and my ears zeroed in on what she was saying. She began by praying for healing of my body. This I expected as I had told her about my physical ailments. She fluidly spoke the freeing and beautiful Word of God out of her mouth into the stuffy and smelly air. Her words surrounded me and my mind and soul. I breathed them in. As she continued she spoke to me in the Spirit of God and set to rest many worries and troubles of my soul. She confirmed that where I am and what I am doing is where and what I should be doing, but only for a season. Then she began to pray and say things to me that opened the emotional flood gates that I have had locked for some time. As she continued to pray I had the sense that it was the Lord speaking to me, giving me words of encouragement and affirmation. It is these words that I will keep secure and hold tightly to and ask the Lord to confirm again.
It has been quite some time since I have had a spiritual experience such as I had on the metro yesterday. It has been quite some time since I have been poured into such as Gizella did on Saturday. Me, a mere acquaintance to her, she took time to listen to and pray for and then speak into words of life. It was on Saturday, on a metro train, under the ground, in the dark, that the Lord brought me into His light and lifted me up. He has given me strength to continue and even more, hope!
I was thrilled upon arriving to see all the different people huddled together with their friends and families. The Spanish language was spoken all around us and I felt so excited to be among the Spanish speaking population of Charlotte, NC. Although I felt some anxiety in attempting to speak Spanish myself, I knew this trip would prove to be an awesome opportunity to spruce up on my skills.
For some time now I have felt a deep spiritual emptiness within. My daily struggle to bring about meaning in my days and be productive through action based on my beliefs has become exhausting. The many various illnesses that I suffer from have also impeded some of my zeal and I feel as though I am not doing enough, though the desire is there. My time so far here at Hyaets has also been very trying. My expectations have not been met, though not necessarily through the fault of anyone at Hyaets, but rather through my own desires and the cultivation of what God is doing within me and where he is leading me. So, it was with excitement and also weariness that I boarded the bus to D.C.
I will write more on the rally/march later however, I am compelled to relay an experience I had on the metro going back to the buses to come home. It was myself and Jacob along with about seven other members of ISC (Immigration Solidarity Committee). The metro train was overstuffed with people. It was stuffy and overwhelmed with the smell of hot and sticky people. There were conversations going on all about. After about five minutes sitting on the metro the train came to a halt prematurely and we were stuck waiting for it to continue for about ten minutes.
It was during this time that Gizella, a lovely woman I had met through ISC, and whom I had told of my physical ailments, decided to pray for me. She placed her soft warm hand on my shoulder as we sat side-by-side on one of the benches, closed her eyes and began praying out loud for me. I closed my eyes too and my ears zeroed in on what she was saying. She began by praying for healing of my body. This I expected as I had told her about my physical ailments. She fluidly spoke the freeing and beautiful Word of God out of her mouth into the stuffy and smelly air. Her words surrounded me and my mind and soul. I breathed them in. As she continued she spoke to me in the Spirit of God and set to rest many worries and troubles of my soul. She confirmed that where I am and what I am doing is where and what I should be doing, but only for a season. Then she began to pray and say things to me that opened the emotional flood gates that I have had locked for some time. As she continued to pray I had the sense that it was the Lord speaking to me, giving me words of encouragement and affirmation. It is these words that I will keep secure and hold tightly to and ask the Lord to confirm again.
It has been quite some time since I have had a spiritual experience such as I had on the metro yesterday. It has been quite some time since I have been poured into such as Gizella did on Saturday. Me, a mere acquaintance to her, she took time to listen to and pray for and then speak into words of life. It was on Saturday, on a metro train, under the ground, in the dark, that the Lord brought me into His light and lifted me up. He has given me strength to continue and even more, hope!
9.20.2010
Path to Peace
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| Drawn Picture of Via Dolorosa (Way of Suffering) The path Jesus took on the way to his Crucifixion |
Right now Jacob is struggling to find a job that he not only qualifies for but that he is not over-qualified for; nevertheless, he is willing to take either. He begins a temporary assignment tomorrow (er today) at a paper factory where he will be stuck in steel toe shoes that are one size too small for his feet. We looked hard for some used ones at various thrift stores and were not able to find a pair other than the ones that were one size too small. So, as he works the next three weeks, his poor feet will be mutilated. He is my hero!!!
Though our refrigerator is not barren or our pantries barren, we find ourselves struggling to create meals from what we have. We were blessed with a grocery donation about two weeks ago from a dear friend, Keith, who runs a non-profit food donation site called the Common Place. If it were not for him we would not have gotten as far as we have with our groceries, and for that I am thankful and appreciative. However, we find ourselves in the same boat once again. Jake tried to make a Hamburger Helper beef straganoff but we had no milk and no money to buy milk. In these times it is helpful to remember the Lord's Prayer, that God does not instruct us to pray for weekly bread or monthly bread but rather for daily bread...and seemingly, we have not yet gone hungry.
Oh and bills...I cannot even begin to explain my exasperation over bills. With my short-term disability only paying me 60% of my normal pay and Jacob not having steady work these past months, we have barely met the demands of rent, phone, electric, groceries, and other necessities. However, I must give God praise for we have yet to come up short for our rent or have our electricity cut off. And in the end, I remember that Jesus had no where to lay his head, no place to call home. Honestly, the worse that could happen is we are evicted and would then enter into the blessed experience of homelessness, relying on the generosity of others to shelter us, just as Jesus did. Guess if you want to be more like him, what better way to do so.
It is through these struggles that I have found a deep cord of commonality in the frailty and humanity of those who I live next to. I no longer seem so different from them and them from me. We have all jumped into the same boat and are doing our best to row through the rocky, and at times tumultuous, waters of life.
In the midst of the storms there are occasionally those who calm the waters and offer their friendship or resources to help us out. Jake's mom, Penny, has been a huge help. She has allowed Jacob to work with her some days and pays him generously. That has been quite a saving grace. Then, there has been the gift card to Bi-Lo from Hyaets which helped out to provide a meal. Keith, who has given us a load of groceries. And many others who pray for us and those who struggle with us and give us reason to laugh and remain joyous.
I am thankful for these struggles though I may not necessarily like them so much. The way of suffering is the path to peace...just maybe I'm beginning on my journey to a peace that surpasses all understanding.
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