Week 24: Holes

I'm extremely late in posting this, perhaps because I’ve been busy getting answers to some of my prayers regarding my next phase of life. This is labeled week 24 even though we're far past that, but that's because it was my thoughts around that time. I'll catch up with some more updated posts for this week soon. I think this post was just really daunting write so I kept writing pieces and putting it off.

During the time I BEGAN writing this, I had been on vacation, at home seeing family and friends which led to developments in my thought and prayer process that made those few weeks the most pivotal so far in my 70 weeks of prayer about my next steps in my calling and relationships with others. So, while many of my posts are simply evolving thoughts about my theology and philosophy and how they shape my life, these past couple of weeks there were some clear answers about my next phase of life. Although I have had a few things evolve throughout previous weeks this entire fall/winter that have given clearer direction to the path I will take once my 70 weeks is over, they were slow realizations, nothing major or poetic enough to write to you. But now, I feel as though they have culminated and combined with larger conclusions and that I can now express those along with more majorly, poetic realizations.
A wise woman once told me that when you kill an idol, it leaves a hole. An empty space in your heart that it used to fill. Your heart waves and bends around it, sometimes growing into the space. Sometimes something comes to fill its place: God or another idol. The vulnerability of a heart with a gap is that it is much easier for the latter to fill the gap than the former and then you're back where you've started, there's another idol to kill then the pain of another hole in your heart, and the cycle continues. Sometimes I wonder if it's like heart surgery- every removal develops scar tissue and so the more growths you allow, even if you eventually cut them out, the more scar tissue you develop. Maybe eventually, your heart is so full of scar tissue and patched up holes that it doesn't work right. But I suppose that's only the case if it's a human-you- that's doing the cutting out and the patching up (which, I'm not sure is possible with evil, tough, things that take over your heart. You need some divine assistance.). I think God could remove evil from your heart, fill it, and make it like new again- no scar tissue- if He willed it. Of course, you'd have to let Him in to do the work- which is the hard part.
To get into the personal specifics of how this impacts my 70 days, I had been struggling for a long while with an idol- a love- that I was unsure if it really was an idol. I read a few definitions of idolatry. One by Paul Moser that I liked said, "Idolatry is the universal human tendency to value something or someone in a way that hinders the love and trust we owe to God. It is an act of theft from God whereby we use some part of creation in a way that steals from honor due to God. Idolatry conflicts with our putting God alone first in our lives, in what we love and trust (Exodus 20:3-5; Deut. 5:7-9; Romans 1:21-23). In idolatry we put something or someone, usually a gift from God, in a place of value that detracts from the first place owed to God alone, the gift Giver." Well, this idol was a love that at I, although less consciously, held onto instead of having faith that God would take care of me, that I could act on the convictions God had given me without being afraid. I held onto this idol almost as a safety, as something I had in these unsure times when I'm not sure where I'll be in the next year and a half. The entirety of this is much more complex- as the fact that this love was an idol doesn't negate the truth of the love that was there, one that I believe was actually something from God. But the idol that it became in my heart definitely was not from God and became something dangerous, something that encourages us to act in the opposite of the way that love does. And when you realize you have an idol like that inside you, you have to kill it. Now does killing the idol mean you have to kill the root of it, in this case, the love as well? Now, that I don't know- I think it depends on the situation. And perhaps even if you don't kill the root intentionally when you kill the idol, the well intentioned root dies as well. But I couldn't tell you for certain.
I did not realize or at least admit that this had filled that hole in my heart and had grown until an idol until I laid awake at night a few weeks ago, refusing to submit to God given convictions in my heart, actively rebelling against Him, that I realized- I had placed this above God, and while not all the time, at times I desired this above God. Fortunately for me, God intervened, and got to work helping me kill that idol then and there. In fact, I think he had been working on killing it for a while and it wasn't until it was in it's death throes that I started to notice it leaving, started to notice the hole, the emptiness in my heart, and struggled in vain to hold onto it. But, like all things that are truth and are from God, there was some stillness, some peace, some goodness when I realized I had submitted to letting God kill it- I think the best description is that I felt cleansed.
This idol definitely played a role in my 70 weeks- how I viewed my next phase in life, where I'd be, how I'd interact with others. And I had prayed that God would give me clear answers about it. Well, He certainly did, and it wasn't exactly pleasant hearing them, but it wasn't as painful as I'd have expected either. I suspect God has been working on me for a long time, I just hadn't noticed. Sometimes I worry other things will take the place of an idol- in fact, the very things I pray about specifically for my next phase in life: my career, my family, my friends, relationships, etc. In fact, as I promised, I had some revelations about all of these aspects about my 70 days the past few impactual weeks but they don't really fit this post about idolatry and there have been more developments about what I should do in respect to my career, my family, and my friends since week 24 so I'll save those. I'll dedicate this post to idolatry and covering the "relationship" aspect of my 70 weeks that I'd been praying about.

So, I got some clear answers that this idol needed to be killed- that I could not base the next phase of my life on it and that changed a lot of things, took a lot of things out of the equation, and opens up my heart, my life, and what I feel my options are a lot more (in fact, the end of my 70 days is much more wide open now, which is kind of frightening). I realized so far in my prayers I was asking God what he wanted me to do at the end of my 70 weeks, but in my heart I was telling Him what I wanted to do and what I wanted Him to tell me. It doesn't quite work out like that and had I held onto the idol, I never would have been actually open to the true answers to my prayers that God provides.

So, I had an idol, it's gone, I struggle to keep it from coming back, blah blah blah. But how did this idol come to take up residence in my heart anyway? Likely, it filled a hole that was there from when I killed a previous idol. This previous idol was likely an ex-boyfriend back when I thought idols were just gold statues that people worshiped in the B.C. days- not something that I needed to be concerned about in my own life (which is why I say the idol was likely the ex-boyfriend- I wasn’t on the lookout for idols back then, so it could have been a variety of things). Thus, I didn’t even realize this was an idol and didn’t recognize the hole as one that needed to be filled with God. So, basically my heart was left unprotected and open to taking in a new idol as I didn’t even know to look out for idols, didn’t recognize an idol when it had taken over my life, and didn’t realize that the hole left in my heart was due to the death of an idol. So, this new one took over…
This brings up a whole new set of questions such as, why do we fill the holes in our hearts with idols anyway? Where did the hole come from in the first place? Was an idol always in that space or was that space left blank?
First, I personally believe we were made with this hole in our hearts- the purpose of which was to be filled by and with God. I think God put it there because He wants us to desire Him, not just to love Him because he made us that way- He designs us to desire him, but to have a choice in the matter. He makes a hole, a space for Himself, but he doesn't fill it unless we ask. He may pursue us, help us know what or rather Who to ask to fill it, even make it impossible to escape his presence at times, but he won't fill that space in our hearts without our consent- to me, that's at the heart (no pun intended) of free will.
So if there's been a hole there since we were born, why did it take us so long to notice? Why does it take some people a large portion of their life, or a whole lifetime (if ever)to realize there was a hole there meant to be filled by God, or a hole that has been filled all their life with something empty (an idol) that does not fulfill what they long for. Perhaps this is because an idol may have taken over that place early in life so the fact that it once was empty or had even been filled by God (perhaps in the way that we have that childlike faith and belief in God) may have gone unnoticed- we may have been too young to recognize it or even to remember it- or maybe it just remains an empty hole (although, I think that's rare- I think most of us find something to fill it, even if it doesn't fulfill it, because having a hole hurts).
Which answers the next question: why do we fill our hearts with idols anyway? Because having a hole in our hearts hurts. Well, that's at least why we seek to fill the hole with something, so why is that something more often than not (at least initially) the wrong things rather than God? The primary reason is is that we don't know what we long for. This hole creates a longing to fill it, a hunger. We all know it, that inexplicable desire for something more- we know we aren't full, we can feel it. In some the hunger is stronger than others, in some people it's very weak- they're close to content with life as it appears, as it is for them- but it's still there deep down somewhere. But, most of the time mistake what it is we long for. Instead of realizing that it's God we think it's another person, a relationship, a child, a career, money, the world, luxuries. We think that one of those things will be the magical cure for this hunger, only to find that even when we gain that, that our hunger is insatiable, at least when we try to satisfy it with these things (and even when we satisfy it with God we're still so separate from him on Earth that we'll never truly be satisfied until we're in His presence). So, some may look to fill the hole in the wrong places not realizing what the hole was meant for, not really noticing the hole, not realizing what they truly hunger for. In fact, I think the breath before we're "saved" is the breath in which we utter that the thing that we've hungered for all along, was God. I had been in this place- although I'd known God, and I felt quite an extreme hunger for something more (I'm definitely one of the people who has felt an extreme hunger all my life- I'm very aware of it and always have been since I was very young (which I consider a gift and only an occasional curse) but I didn't truly recognize that what I hungered for was God (perhaps I hungered for all the Godly aspects of wordly things, not realizing it was the God part of them that I longed for and not the things themselves) until towards the end of college, despite having considered myself a Christian since I was young. This was after the ex-boyfriend I mentioned previously- when that idol had been killed, my heart was open again, and God worked hard at getting in to fill it and I thought I let him, but I think I only consented with my head, not my whole heart.

That brings us to yet another question: if we do realize that God is what is meant to fill that hole but notice something else is already occupying it, why do we hold onto it? Why do we cling to idols? I think that this is because we may not have the faith or trust in God to give that space over to Him. We may not consent with our whole heart for Him to fill it. Lack of faith and trust spring from fear (and also lead to fear- it's viciously cyclical): fear that God won't provide, won't give us what we really want- only what's good for us but that will probably hurt- basically a lack of trust that what God will provide won't make us happy although the truth is that only what He can provide will make us happy and fulfill us. This fear is often in the name of "self preservation" because the world teaches us we have to look out for ourselves, not give away everything we have to others. If we want something, we have to go for it- take things into our own hands: our relationships, our livelihoods, our everything rather than place it in God's hands and soon that thing takes on a life of it's own and it grows into an idol. And this is exactly what I did, after I came to accept that what I longed for was Christ, I let an idol take over my heart unawares but refused to let go of it because I didn't trust that what God would do would be what I wanted, when I should know that all I really desire is God and all things from him. Anything not rooted in Him would be empty and useless to me (as it proved to be, which shocked me, although it shouldn't have I suppose).
There's a song by "Over the Rhine" that I listened to on repeat (along with a few others by them) those few weeks where they say that "obsessions with self preservation faded when I threw my fear away. You either lose your fear or spend your life with one foot in the grave. Is God that last romantic?" Thus, fear is the root of obsessing over self preservation which is what keeps us from acting in faith, which is what keeps us from throwing away idols and filling that space with it's rightful occupant. But if your fear away you're free- you're living in faith, you're alive. If you don't, if you live your life in fear, you're halfway dead. And finally, "is God the last romantic?" What a concept! Within the context, that means that unless we are without fear, we are not romantics. Unless we believe in Grace and salvation and trust that we can indeed be given our heart's desire if only we ask the Holy God of the universe, we are not romantics! In fact, God is perhaps the last romantic! Many would argue the opposite- many of the things in our culture that we consider "romantic" are ungodly things, or things that act, in fact, as idols. Running away from where you are to travel the world and discover all the worldly and man made passions and treasures is, "romantic." And if I were to tell my friends about many of my Christian beliefs and philosophies, the last word they would use to describe them is "romantic." But the truth is, they are the most romantic. A good friend (as well as the band "Over the Rhine") pointed out that those who choose to have faith in all that God promises in fact could be called the biggest dreamers of all- especially by common society. "You have faith in some entity that is going to save you and grant you your hearts desires? And do this despite all these supposed things you have done "against" this entity and that this all encompassing entity somehow knows you intimately, wants to know you intimately and downright LOVES you? Dream on."
Well, I've always considered myself a romantic dreamer so I'm working on keeping this idol at bay, throwing my fear away and I think I will dream on.

Easier said than done, I still stand on the edge of a big wide future that has the potential to scare me to spiritual death. Idols threaten to enter this hole in my heart all the time and I find myself having to work so hard to fill it with God. It's not something inactive that just happens. Filling the hole in your heart, especially when it has a history of idols, is an active and tough process. Especially because filling it with idols is easier, takes less thought, happens automatically as a product of our sinful nature, and is a quick "fix." But it's not a fix as much as a tumor that we'll just have to cut out later and hope it was benign or that the cancer didn't spread to other parts of our bodies. Filling our hearts with God is frightening- I don't know where He'll take me, what exactly He wants for me, or if I will receive the things I think I desire. It's agreeing to an entire future you can't forsee, but I suppose we do that with everything. In this case, it's a future that's out of my hands and into His, which, despite how we often feel, is a more secure place for it to be.

So we fill our hearts with idols not knowing our great, wide emptiness was meant for God, and we keep them there because we're afraid of what giving that space to God will entail... and besides, that future that we'd be giving over to Him is just so darn large and long- in fact, it's an eternity that we can't see.
One of the first days of freshman year of college, a bunch of girls from my floor in my dorm and I went down to the beach by Lake Michigan which almost all of our (now) Alma mater majestically overlooks. I'm not in close contact with any of them anymore, although we became good freshman friends. But I still remember us standing there in youthful wonder- at our new found freedom and possibilities, at the great literal and metaphorical expanse before us and I said, "I've never seen the ocean" to which my friend replied, "I think anything you can't see the other side of is an ocean." And to this day I think of what she said anytime I stare at an abyss- a vast body of water or distance, a fast journey- a period of time I cannot see the end of...
By that definition, we are all standing on the shore of something we cannot see the other side of- perhaps a darkness, a journey... a life?
At the very least we all stand on the shore of the ocean of eternity- wondering where the current will carry us if we have the faith to wade in.

Week 21: We're gonna pull through

It's the time of the year when the darkness challenges us. It seems things always get tougher in winter- for everyone. The lack of daylight adds to the depression. I have a theory that God gives us Easter, Jesus dies for our sins, we feel free and breathe in summer's whirlwind of warmth and light. God gives us all that time, all that light, but eventually, it gets darker, we don't have the fireworks, the sunlight, the warm outdoor evenings. We only have each other, huddled tightly together in artificially lit rooms, darkness surrounds us outside. The environment does not provide us with external light- all we have is each other- we have to make our own light. I think sometimes that it's half a test, to see if we can use our human selves to create light, and half a reminder that we need Jesus, we need the birth of the messiah, we need Emmanuel- God with us- to bring us light, to bring light into our hearts to make our own light. Usually, by Christmas, we've been surrounded by darkness long enough to appreciate our need for Him, we've been hit hard enough. But, in between Thanksgiving and Christmas, we often wait inside the depths of December, hoping we'll make it until we find Emmanuel, sometimes unfaithfully worrying He won't be enough when He comes, hoping we'll pull through.

Last year around this time I listened to a song by Over the Rhine, "we're gonna pull through" on repeat. I had a lot going on last winter- My mother trying to pull through cancer, a situation in which I hoped that a friendship (a few friendships, actually) could pull through without being too disfigured in the process.

On my drive home from work at night there's a part of the highway where all the fast food and store signs die out, there are no street lights or stoplights, only darkness over the black hills- you hit the top of one and you see lights of stores and houses far off in the distance- and before you, a gnarled, twisted old oak in front of Green thumb- some plant store that also sells ice cream and ski equipment. I don't really know what all they do- but I got my Christmas tree there. The point is- Green Thumb is a large wooden barn like building with a pitched roof and three small sort of steeples popping out of the top of the roof- they look like 3 warm, orange lanterns- a relief to the darkness of the night. I always look forward to seeing their welcoming beacons in the middle of the darkness- I look for them like I look for hope when my days darken. As I approached the hill on a dark frozen night in December, "We're gonna Pull Through" came onto my car stereo and Green thumb's lantern lights reminded me that there IS hope- no matter how cold and dark the winter seems, no matter how impossible it seems- that THIS time, we couldn't possibly make it- we always make it through. I thought of last December- of friendships and even a mother that seemed impossible to mend, to reconcile, that are now better than ever. And I cannot explain how or why we have pulled through all this darkness- it certainly wasn't for my own sight, I couldn't see through all that blackness, I just grabbed His hand and He pulled us through it, on into summer's light.

So another winter, some more challenges, but more joys, more questions of the future, how it could possibly make sense, how I could possibly know in less than a year what I should do next and how I should do it- It all seems impossible, so very unclear. I cannot see where I'm going, but I'm going to grab a hand in this darkness, I think you should grab a hand too, and friends, He's gonna pull us through

Week 20: Santa Claus is Comin' to Town

 Friends, I think it's time to talk about winter. I believe I have mentioned my volatile relationship with winter (or at least alluded to it when talking about my poor relationship with fall) but in case I haven't clarified, the summary is: Winter has not been good to me for a long time. I used to love winter, especially because of Christmas time, but starting 5 years ago, Winter began a trend of bringing nasty situations into my life to the point where I didn't even find Christmas time that enjoyable. Each winter, since this began 5 years ago, something happens to test me and put me through a lot of emotional turmoil. Winter especially loves to use medical issues with my mother as a way to get to me, and as I mentioned in a previous post, it's done just that this year as well.
Thus, during these winters, I was usually in the middle of an emotional crisis during Christmastime. My favorite Christmas songs used to be Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, White Christmas kinds of songs, but while listening to the radio a few years back, during one of these winters, I heard Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" and it quickly became my favorite. You could say it's because it's fun, you could say it's because I'm in love with the Boss (all of which are true), but I think that main reason is because I am convinced that the sound of the bells and piano at the beginning of the song is the sound of hope. Seriously, this is what hope sounds like. I sat in my friend's car in Kenosha a few years back my mind  full of worries, and tears came to my eyes when I heard the song, because I knew there was hope- God would not leave me without it.
Of course, the song places so much hope and excitement on Santa coming, because he will give us gifts, will give us what we desire, he's also a loving individual, and you should be good, because he's coming soon. Wow, Santa sure sounds like someone else I know. There's hope in Santa, there's hope in Jesus too. No wonder Santa is a symbol of Christmas, he's so Jesus like.

There are a few major differences however. One: Santa is easier to swallow than Jesus. He's a rolly polly sweet man who doesn't require much of you, just non-specifically, that you "be good" while Jesus is a a thin, table turning over, boat rocking, love demanding kind of man. That's why people are more comfortable with talking about Santa to their children and plastering him everywhere, even if they don't celebrate a Christ centered Christmas. Two: Santa won't forgive your sins. Santa is kind of like old covenant- you're supposed to "be good" and if you're not, well, that's just too bad, you get a lump of coal (fortunately, Parents are more forgiving). Jesus, while he requires more of you, will forgive you and still give you gifts even if you're "bad," you just have to ask for forgiveness. What's interesting though, is that I think more people believe in Jesus than in Santa, even though Santa is easier to swallow. Think about it, sure, almost every kid in America (and other countries) believes in Santa, but no adults do. Maybe adulthood makes you realize truth, maybe it makes you aware of sins that need to be forgiven, you just can't be "good." Maybe you realize how "bad" you were and that you got presents anyway- that forgiveness didn't come from Santa, maybe it came from mom and dad (with the help of Jesus). But I digress, the point is, no adults believe in Santa. Plenty of them don't believe in Jesus, but more adults believe in Jesus than in Santa. Also, a large portion of the children who believe in Santa also probably believe in Jesus because when you're young, you're blessed with a lot of faith in a lot of things.
The point of this, is that, despite the threats for this winter to be like the last four, Santa Claus IS coming to town. In other words, the hope that is conveyed through Santa Claus, but that really comes through Jesus is here because Emmanuel is coming to town. That hope, and the hope and peace God gave me due to his mercy, grace, and his willingness to answer prayers, have made this winter not so bad. My mother's medical issues are less life threatening and looking better, and even if they weren't, God would guide me through. I started out this winter, giving it a chance, then when it brought yet another situation, I promised to loathe it for all eternity and never to forgive it. Now, I realize, it can't touch me anymore. It took facing one of the worst possible scenarios (my mother's death- a situation more severe than any previous winter)- and when I say worst, I mean one more likely to get into the core of me being and destructively alter it or break part of me in a way that is difficult to repair- to realize the foundation upon which my being is built. In the past five years I've slowly acquired some new foundations and my core is now full of hope in God and his son, Jesus Christ, who will carry me through anything, who will only do what is best for me and those I love. This situation, that intended to bring me into a negative place, just made me step back and see all the blessings I'd been given that I didn't deserve, all the things I had from my mother that could never be taken away from me, all the gifts of friendship and love throughout my life that were never mine to keep. And because of this fact, I appreciated them so much more, and loved so much more. What winter used as a tool to shake my foundation, turned out a tool to solidify and verify my foundation. Of course, who can take evil and work it together for good like that but God? So I know He's been working away. In short, I'm actually enjoying and appreciating winter and Christmastime this year in an odd way- I've overcome this pattern, it can't touch me anymore.
I spent more time praying about my next phase, this time realizing I already have things planned in my head and have not opened the options up fully enough to God. In fact, I realized I spent so much time focusing on my own issues these past few weeks that my focus on God's will and ESPECIALLY on loving Jesus and God more than anything and anyone else was dwindling. It was like I needed to do my 70 days of loving God right all over again (which, I suppose we need to be doing throughout our lifetime). I lay in bed praying, somewhere between wakefulness and dreams and asked God to help me to see Him in the right manner, to view our relationship in the right way, to understand how God, Jesus, and I should be to each other. Something between a dream and a vision came to me- more of a vision than a dream as I was more aware that I was awake and it struck my consciousness differently that dreams usually do.

I was in some blue, brightly lit world- city and sea, some bustling marketplace, except the background was all washed out. The only clearly defined thing was the person in front of me. There was Jesus, like a beautiful boy from a romantic comedy- His features and the lighting held a surrealistic, artistic quality. The color had a washed out blue tint- the kind that highlights light- makes light obvious- white, brightness, and blue stick out of the pale palette distinctively. Jesus almost appeared as if his image had been scanned through a computer, into a "sketch" program, and printed out as a living sketch of a real photo. The lines of his hair, his eyes were so definitive, his skin light, his eyes a fierce blue, popping out of the palette of the foggy yet very clear state or place I had entered. I stood there a moment, breathing in how Jesus looked- how he looked like a beautiful boy I would fall in love with- except this vision was not my meeting someone I did not know and thinking I would love him, this was seeing someone I already knew I loved for the first time.
Jesus beckoned to me and I as I went toward him he embraced me- an embrace whose sentiments mixed with parental love, friendship love, and primarily, the intimate love of someone you're in a relationship with. He kissed the top of my head gently, lifted up his hand to show me something- and there my memory goes blank. What he held in his hand was familiar, seemingly trivial- something that seemed meaningless but was somehow significant because He was holding it. I can't remember what it was, but looking back I think that whatever the object is, I am like it- seemingly trivial- if someone saw Jesus holding me, they would ask, "why? why is he bothering with that?" without Him I seem meaningless, but because He's holding me, I am significant. Because he's holding me, making me significant, because God is with me, with us, I have hope. Hope I will come to know Him more and more the way I should and to live for him in whatever way He wills, no matter what the winter brings, the spring, the summer, next fall and next November brings (end of my 70 days). I see His face in my dreams, I watch my students' faces soften as they dream, I laugh as my friends and I share a meaningful moment, I listen to my mother's familiar voice still yapping away on the phone, I hear the E-street band's piano, bells and Sax on the radio in my cold car, and I have hope, because Emmanuel is coming to town. 

Week 19: Thanks

I sat in my car, Over the Rhine playing, while I waited to shadow the vans of students and teachers on the way to the grocery store/back to our residence. I watched all the teachers and students walk out on a blustery sunny November afternoon, the leaves tumbling around their feet, early afternoon sun hitting them. We had left school early as it was the day before Thanksgiving and there's always some novelty to leaving school early, too. But as I looked at all these young women I had grown so close to in the past year or two- people who had been strangers to me 18 months ago, and in some cases even 3 months ago, who now seem something like family. I realized how thankful I am for everything I'm given. And I mean that in a continual sense- I'm thankful for the fact that blessings are continual- I can move far away, my entire life can change, turn upside down, I can move to a place where I know no one, and somehow I always find myself with more people to love, more people who will support me, make me laugh, make me smile. Of course, in order for the continuum to exist, eventually a number of these blessings must eventually fade out and be replaced by new faces. All the more reason to be thankful for what I have, who I know today, because it may soon be gone tomorrow.
We spend so much time planning our future, we sometimes forget to be Thankful for our present. So, this week, maybe I'll take a break from praying for things, praying about the future, and pray a little more prayers of Thanks for all the things I've been given, all the transitions into new phases of my life that have come, gone, and come again, and brought me safely and happily to this place. I know everything in the weeks and years to come will be fine, no matter the outcome, no matter God's answer, because I have so much evidence of my past that God's plan for my life is good, and I have oh so much to be thankful for. 

Week 18: Let it Rain

Another week thinking about and planning my next phase in life. But life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans and it nearly decided to plan the next phase in my life for me.  A phone call from my mother on Thursday of last week about major health issues made it seem as though this Christmas may be our last together. She had had two bouts of major issues in the past- it was as if we had gotten two free passes- two chances at more time. Given the multiple issues she possibly had going on, it seemed impossible we would get a third. And while tests and a doctor's appointment a week later revealed that the issues were less complicated and while still major and risky, it was less probable that I might be dealing with my mother's impending death especially soon. But, for about a week, my mother and I were pretty convinced that she was dying (and we're still not out of the woods by any means, but the outlook looks better).

Suddenly, the possibilities and likelihoods of my next phase in life shifted to involve burying my bother, settling an estate, selling furniture, cars, determining whether to sell, rent out, or live in my mother's condo- using money from it to buy a place of my own, moving back to IL so I can adequately take care of things. Realizing all the things I would do alone- without family. Mom is all I have and I'm all she has- there is no real other family (that I would consider "family)- who would I put for emergency contact information? If something happened to me, who would make medical decisions, who would get what I have? Where would I go for holidays? If I ever got married, who would help me pick out a wedding dress, walk me down the aisle, tell me how to be a mother? And these were all the selfish concerns- let alone what my mother was feeling, her quality of life, whether we'd ever have enough time for me to express that I actually appreciated the sacrifices she made for me- giving up her life to be a single mother- all the ways she taught me how to love and live. 

All my seventy weeks of planning and prayer- well, it mattered- but it made me realize my future phase of life is very much not in my power. Due to what I can only imagine as a lot of prayer from others and God's grace I felt more peace over the entire situation than I would realistically expect. Friends and co-workers were so supportive. I realized that I'd have to count on friends to be my people- my emergency contacts. I talked with my best friend seriously about these things- a refreshingly serious conversation. I forget sometimes how deep our bond goes until I realize she's still the one I'm immediately dialing after I find out my mother may die within the year. People at work were immediately there for me, and the prayer chain from church was ridiculously active. I got messages from them and good friends- simple things- yet exactly what I needed to hear: that I was not walking alone, that God would not have put me in a situation less than the one that was best for our overall good. First, I realized how scared I was of being alone- as it is just me and mom- I would lose all of my family. Then I realized how much God was with me- how my mother's life functioned, what our relationship was like, all my mother had been through- and I realized God really could have our best interests in mind, even in the worst case scenario. I had so much peace- as much as I did not want to lose my mother, I came to a realization that she will never really leave me- she's eternally in my head, in my heart, telling me to drive slowly as it's slick out, to be nice to custodians, to go west, to be what I'm supposed to be. Although the logistics and implications of the situation seemed huge and I was unsure what would happen in regards to my life in dealing with these things, as much as I did not want my mother to die anytime soon, I prayed, "If you can, take this cup from me, but not my will, but yours be done." And I meant it. This was astonishing to me, because my faith had never held up like this before (although, it hasn't quite been tested that severely since I really grew in it a few years ago). I felt as if evil were attempting to knock me sideways and my reaction was to counter it- with good, not allowing it to take me off my daily work in God, not allowing me to shake my faith that God is good and works all things together according to his purpose. Don't mistake, I was still scared, still selfish about the entire situation, but if God would bring something upon me, he would take care of me. I just asked His will be done.

Low and behold, I got through the week, my mother no longer looks as though death is imminent- although things are still very serious- and I can breathe for a moment and reflect. November 18th also happened this week- the date that will be the end of my 70 weeks next year. We are now less than a year away. That's somewhat scary.

This morning I listened to a Christian radio station on my drive to church- the signal doesn't come in strong in certain areas of my usual drive and when I go far enough east, it eventually garbles itself over to static. I only heard hints of this song at first,  but immediately a memory of my 19th birthday, where I belted out "Let it rain" with my gospel choir in some black baptist church in Wisconsin- probably Milwaukee.

I often thought about what the song meant- just what was it referring to when it said, "let it rain?" What were we letting rain down? Was it a desperate cry for something to rain down upon us (blessings? Forgiveness?), a desperate, urgent, sincere cry of surrender to what God will bring, be it sun or even rain? Well, it was a desperate cry for something- I think what that something is depends on the person and where their life is at the moment. As my choir sang, we were all probably crying for different things- that's the thing about the body of Christ- different needs, different cries in our hearts, different histories, different places in our walks with the Lord- yet all our different voices came together in a harmony that said something and meant something to those watching, and those of us singing. There's something much more powerful when other voices are crying with you- for different reasons, but ultimately seeking the same, greater thing in the end.
 When our loved ones fade away for one reason or another, our friends, our neighbors are all we have.

The song turned out to be just that- a version of "Let it Rain" and although the arrangement was completely different, I belted out the song in my car until it turned completely to static. I thought of the good memories I had associated with it, all the wonderful memories God had given me, the (literally) billions of small gifts I'd received, all the people I've had the pleasure to know and to love. Every moment, every relationship, no matter how small or major and longitudinal, is only a borrowed gift, something lent to us on earth but for a short time. Anything truly good can't last on earth long.

No matter what the year brings- with my mother's health, the end of my 70 weeks, the answers God gives me in regards to it, and anything else that life throws at me in that time- let it rain. Let it rain blessings or pain or forgiveness, as long as it's God- let God rain down. I cry this in both meanings- both in asking for blessing, forgiveness, or anything that comes down, as long as it's pure God. And I say it in surrender, to whatever He brings, because I know, somehow, somewhere, it is good.

Week 17: Find me Somebody to Love

I've heard a lot of songs about love these past few days that have me thinking about the love we seek, the love we think we want, the love we really want, the love we get, the love we get to give and often, if we're doing what God commands, the love we have to give.

Seventy weeks of getting my life together especially involves my getting myself in order to be in whatever meaningful relationship God has planned for me next (and even now)- be that relationship romantic, a friendship, multiple friendships, mentor/mentee, even developing existing family relationships, etc. But of course, girls my age are getting married, just starting to have babies, and the ones that aren't are mostly all focused on finding a way to end up doing those things. It's as if we feel we need to do this to find purpose and fulfillment in our lives. We find ourselves so focused on trying to find somebody to love us, and if we think about it, understand a little more about the nature of love, instead we try to find somebody to love. Queen was a band of some slightly deeper thinkers- they asked if anyone could find them somebody to love.

But even this, is somewhat misguided. We pray and pray for somebody to love- thinking we'll get a romantic partner to cuddle and love and share things with. The Beatles said they got by with a little help from their friends and when asked if they needed anybody, they said they need someone to love. Could it be anybody? They simply say they want someone to love, implying it couldn't be just anybody. But the point is, this is what they want, what they need, and without it they just "get by" with a little help from their friends.

So often, we get caught up in romantic love and think this is the only type there is- at least the only type worth seeking for a long period of time, the only kind worth dedicating a whole life to.  But sometimes I wonder if it were socially acceptable and common practice, that we could just dedicate our lives to a close friend instead of a spouse. What if we met someone with whom our relationship was completely platonic and we just agreed that because we are two people on this planet, that we would care for each other and love each other- even if we're two people who are of the same gender or different sexual orientations- we love each other regardless of physical attraction. We love each other purely for love's sake. Occasionally you see that happen, or something close to it in the form of a long term friendship, but not too often. Best friends move apart, they get married, they have kids, their love goes to more socially acceptable and naturally easier to handle/instinctive places- to their spouse and their children. Friendship love is less instinctive. There's no sexual attraction, no need to protect your young or blood bond. It's more of an agreement to love someone because they are human too- in fact, it seems to me that love is more of the kind Christ speaks of. What I'm describing is even more of a strong neighborly love rather than a love of someone you selected to be your friend. But friendship love and neighborly love are similar enough for the purposes of the ideas I'm describing.

I spent an afternoon in the city talking about life over tea with a good female friend who is also my age and single. I thought about all the beautiful young women I know struggling for companionship, a place in this world, hoping for the desires of their hearts. I thought of all the conversations I'd had in the past few months with friends- loving each other, listening to each other, lifting each other up. All the times I've come to work and felt safe with a group of women who would look out for me- we would take care of each other. We're so busy trying to meet a man to start a family that we forget all the families we have right in front of us- the odd ones that form that are the most difficult to recognize but also the most beautiful . U2 and Johnny Cash didn't just want someone to love romantically- they understood that we have one love, one life, we've got to do what we should- we have one life with each other- our sisters and our brothers. We have one life, even though we're not the same and we get to carry each other, carry each other. We've got to carry each other.

As Christ commands us to love one another, to carry each other, we find that to love is duty. We ask and ask to find someone to love when we neglect to love all the people right in front of us whom we are commissioned and commanded to love. And while it is our duty and it is difficult, it is not a chore- it comes with all the pain, beauty, growth, and strength that any love comes with. Love, in it's true form, is love- no matter who it belongs to, no matter who it's given to.

So if you're longing to love somebody, you can pray and pray that you'll find somebody to love- but be careful what you wish for because you most certainly will find hundreds of people to love, right before your eyes. And if you choose to love them for the people they are, standing right in front of you, with nothing romantic to hand you, you'll find a purpose and a fulfillment in your life and you'll find you have a family, or at least a person who will carry you, too. You'll carry each other, carry each other home.

Week 16: Tears and Fears

I've had so many thoughts these past weeks that I couldn't focus them into one post although I tried to write many times. So this post is a menagerie of ideas- maybe I can at least keep each paragraph in the line of one idea. However, as with most of my ideas, they all seem to blend together to make one larger idea- as if my life is planned to make one large point at a certain point in time. It's very cool and definitely leads me to believe that things are carefully divinely planned. That said, I have yet to determine the larger point that all these ideas make- so here is the mess as it is and where I am in my 70 weeks:

In high school, there was a period of time where tears would come to my eyes every day- tears of wonder, tears of joy- just because I was so enraptured by the beauty of the world. I always loved this part of me, that could see beauty like that. When I started dating my high school/college boyfriend I remember telling him that. I don't think he fully understood and with that relationship, I lost the ability to see beauty in the world like that for a long time. I remember when the relationship ended- it came back to me very quickly- that ability to be brought to tears over some inexplicable beauty. I think it came back with my relationship with God. As, how can you love creation fully if you don't love the creator fully? Within the past few weeks I celebrated my three year anniversary of being me (in other words, 3 year anniversary of being single) which is always a thoughtful time for me. This year, I celebrated where I am, who I am, and my stronger relationship with God that truly developed within these past 3 years. I also celebrated my ability to cry at simple beauty, which I actually haven't done in a while.

I drove home after a typical day at work, but one that just went right. I had done decently right by my students and other staff, I had passed a test,  delicious food was in the cafeteria, and my students had just been full of so many precious moments. Driving home, I recalled a few of those moments and just started laughing, then crying at the beauty of the culmination of everything in my day- my students faces, their comments, my love for them, the bond between other staff, the friends I had made out here, the way we can all communicate with just a look, how close I feel with all of them. And I cried in wonder of it, in sorrow that in not too long a time I will be losing it, and then began to laugh with joy at the fact that I could love so many things with such magnitude all in one moment. And I thanked God for being able to know that feeling, for having the privilege of knowing all of the people I have ever known and shared a close word with.I cried because I could cry at beauty again.

But, throughout the past few weeks I especially tended towards appreciating what I have now, but with bittersweetness, always involving a deep sense of sorrow that the life I have now, that I love so much, will be gone so soon. In about a year and a half, very likely. The purpose of my 70 weeks is to determine what my next phase in life is through prayer and to get myself spiritually straightened out in order to go to that place and do what I'm supposed to do there. In other words, wherever I'm going, I need to have all my spiritual strength about me because I have a feeling it will be a challenge. I talked to one of my advisers about working in the public schools eventually and said, "that's what you're supposed to do with this program anyway, right? Leave here and go where they don't have access to these kinds of programs?" and she said, "no, if you like it here, you stay, but if you have something set up somewhere else, then you can go." Well, I happen to love where I am, but I thought, just because you like being in a certain place doesn't mean you should stay there. Not everyone is me, many people select a place to live because they like the geography, the people, the places around them. They select a place to work because of good hours, good pay, good benefits. For me, work has never been about those things- it's a nice and very useful bonus that I am able to stay clothed, sheltered, fed, and cared for medically as a result, but I always selected my work because of the amount of meaning it provided. I feel as though it's not so much a choice to stay in a place because I like it- there's a sense of duty, or calling to be somewhere else. And if I were to stay where God did not want me to stay, I would be unhappy. Nonetheless, I go to tears at the thought of leaving this beautiful place, this phase in life, even if it isn't for another one and a half to two years. But then I thought, how lucky I am- I never fully leave a place totally willingly with a spirit of wanting to be rid of it. I always leave because I'm propelled forward, forced to move on by another calling, a new phase in life- so I leave every place I've been appreciating it and loving it which means I must live each phase of life pretty fully.

Despite all this, I realize just how ridiculously scared I am of the real world, of my next phase of life. I found myself realizing how I don't have enough courage to do enough for students in the public school. I don't normally think of myself as cowardly- quite the opposite, and the only thing I'm usually afraid of is fear. But I find myself realizing I'm wishy washy when I should advocate for my students- which makes me feel terrible and terrifies me at the same time. So, combine that terror with fear of hating the next place I go (which is silly since I've always loved every place I've ever been led, but I'm a creature that lacks faith, despite how many times I've been shown there is cause for it) and not doing right by all the people involved in my next phase of life, including students, family, friends, people I'm involved in relationships with, and God, you'll see I'm actually full of a lot of fear. And that is never a good thing. So, I continually pray for more guidance on my next phase, less fear, and more courage.

As it turns out, these ideas have come to a bit of a point, although I fear I've neglected incorporating a lot of my ideas and I don't really like the lame prose of this post. But I'll go with it.
Until next week or so...