I'm a little late in posting this, but I couldn't skip week 35 as it marks the halfway point in my 70 weeks. I must admit, I haven't been focusing on the prayer of where I should be as much as I should. I've been working on trying to focus my prayers- really keep my 70 weeks and my future in prayer. In general, I've been losing touch with God a bit- just not having quality time. I'm especially trying to remedy that during Lent and have been pushing forward more in prayer about where God wants me. This is more of an update post rather than a philosophical post as my 70 weeks as evolved a little.
Reality, however, has been knocking on my door these past two weeks (which is also why I've put off this post- I don't want to deal with reality). Political issues with the new and ridiculous(ly terrible and unconscionable) bill in Wisconsin may mean that jobs back home in IL/WI in a year and a half (when I would move back) will be hard to come by or a bad idea because classes could have 40 students with special ed students completely included (in WI) and highly qualified teachers from WI will be looking for work in IL because of the poor situation for teachers in WI.
There are a lot more details I'm to exhausted to discuss, but in short, a conversation with my mentor (and old professor) led me to believe being a public school teacher (which is where I had felt called up until this point in my 70 weeks- and where I still feel called) is unrealistic and that I should embrace all the opportunities I would have with my BCBA/master's degree in applied behavior analysis. He's beginning a program to train BCBAs in WI and would like me to teach at my alma mater (Carthage), supervise BCBAs, and potentially eventually direct the program. I could see myself doing this potentially many many many years down the line if God called me to it, but not now. But my mentor made my calling seem like such a hopeless case, that I should at least go into consulting and parent training. All of this feels so phony- I haven't taught enough in the public schools to consult for them and tell them how to run things.
I feel called to teach- to teach teach. Special ed students in a public school. But my mentor, my mother- they all sound disappointed, like I should do "more" (which, what really is more than being a teacher on the front lines?), they talk as if I'll grow out of this notion. And I still feel like God wants me to teach teacher, but then again, I don't know anymore. I'm just generally confused and thus praying more specifically about my next phase of life, as I said earlier.
And in general, I'm still just so exhausted- my entire life just feels like a heavy weight I can't lay down. At least I've had some quality God time this weekend. I had a pretty spiritual experience at the Over the Rhine concert I went to on Friday- realizing how far I've come, and just singing along to a lot of their songs like I was at a praise concert- and in a way, that's what it was.
I took the bus back from New York City today and lay down on the seat, the sun shining through the glass roof of the double-decker bus. I skipped over all the songs on my praise/Christian related playlist that talked about all the ways we fail, how much we need to repent to God, how we need to change our behavior. I know all that, I'm far too focused on all that right now, to the point where I nearly doubt my redemption because I realize just how much I fail. So, I listened to "bridge over troubled water," playing it over and over hoping to feel comfort and trust from God- that he would remove my burden when I'm "weary, feeling small." And for the most part, He did- I felt His presence surrounding me, warming me, although I still didn't have any clearer answers.
When I hit Boston, groggy and still confused and cranky, I went down to the redline to catch the T home. A man was playing a classical guitar- the song was just exactly what my soul needed to hear. Warm and alive- I can't describe it beyond that. I dropped a dollar in- I usually just do change- because his music was exactly what I needed. I stood on the platform, swaying back and forth, and just felt God with me- more clearly this time- and more specifically, I felt Jesus. So strongly I'd almost swear He was there, had come down in the body of a street performer to play this song just for me. Tears came to my eyes and the train appeared- a soft warm light. So maybe I don't know where I'm going, but if it's the right train, I think I'll be alright.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Week 34: Long Distance
It's been an exhausting week. I realized I didn't need a vacation from work, I needed a vacation from my entire life. And well, that's difficult to coordinate. I've been full of frustrations, many involving God.
I feel as though most of my life involves me shouldering burdens- wherever I am. At home, at work, with family, with friends. I ask God why I have to carry so much. Of course, he replies, in the voice of my old Gospel choir director, "you've gotta lay your burdens down, child. And you know you'll feel betta, so much betta, if you lay 'em down." But I still think of my future, the end of my 70 weeks and I just see more challenges, more burdens.
I feel distant from God, a large portion of which I am at fault for. I find myself spending so much time talking about God, talking with fellow Christians, surrounding myself with Christian ideas that I forget to talk to God and have an actual relationship with him. It's like talking to all your friends in relationships about your relationship and reading advice books on relationship but then never spending anytime with your significant other. It doesn't work.
But I also feel as though I'm just so distant from His will, off from where he wants me in my daily life. Not in the big things, just in all my millions of small actions, in my thought process. I'm distant in that I put things before Him in value, want more things than His love.
Yet, here's the kicker. I've been working on loving God properly and so sometimes I'm in a better place and really wanting His love, trying to fathom it, trying to understand the depth of it, and on the verge of grasping a small speck of it's grandeur, it's wildness, how it makes any human love I know look "like milk and water." And in those times (and really all the time) I just realize how I can't grasp it, full feel it, and ultimately, can't have as much God as I want. I drink Him in, feel His presence, but it's never enough. I can't get enough of it here on earth. Of course, this is no shock, but it's frustrating. God wants to be in my life so much but I can't have as much of Him as I'd like, I still feel distant. As I said to my friend, sometimes my relationship with God feels like a long distance relationship. "There's a reason," I said, "why people won't do long distance relationships. Because they're already in one with God, they can't deal with another one." Now, I know he's right here and present all the time, but his presence is like a phone call, sometimes maybe like Skype. You're talking to him, you can hear Him, even feel him, but his presence is never going to be as strong as it could be, say, if you saw Him in person.
I have a lot of frustrations, I know the answer to these is to turn to God, pray, lay my burdens down, put Him first, rest in His love, but when I do that, I just realize how much of Him I don't have present. I'm thankful for God being present in my life at all, don't get me wrong. But, knowing how big God is, even thinking how his pure presence would feel, I can't help but desire it so strongly. Normally I'd end on some positive up-beat note about how I was in a bad place but came to some heart warming realization. This is sort of an exception.
I'm not going to say how lovely everything is because the reality is, I just miss God (and I know He misses me too) and I'm sick of this long distance relationship.
I told a friend of mine about how once I wanted to do something drastic, probably sinful, just so God would take me back, so I'd feel his presence especially heightened as I have in the past. Of course I wouldn't, but I desired to feel God's strong presence so much that I thought about it. "You're sick," he said. I started to argue but instead replied, "Yes, yes I am. I'm sick because I'm separated from him and I'm not going to be well until I see His face." And my typically argumentative friend clinked his glass against mine.
I feel as though most of my life involves me shouldering burdens- wherever I am. At home, at work, with family, with friends. I ask God why I have to carry so much. Of course, he replies, in the voice of my old Gospel choir director, "you've gotta lay your burdens down, child. And you know you'll feel betta, so much betta, if you lay 'em down." But I still think of my future, the end of my 70 weeks and I just see more challenges, more burdens.
I feel distant from God, a large portion of which I am at fault for. I find myself spending so much time talking about God, talking with fellow Christians, surrounding myself with Christian ideas that I forget to talk to God and have an actual relationship with him. It's like talking to all your friends in relationships about your relationship and reading advice books on relationship but then never spending anytime with your significant other. It doesn't work.
But I also feel as though I'm just so distant from His will, off from where he wants me in my daily life. Not in the big things, just in all my millions of small actions, in my thought process. I'm distant in that I put things before Him in value, want more things than His love.
Yet, here's the kicker. I've been working on loving God properly and so sometimes I'm in a better place and really wanting His love, trying to fathom it, trying to understand the depth of it, and on the verge of grasping a small speck of it's grandeur, it's wildness, how it makes any human love I know look "like milk and water." And in those times (and really all the time) I just realize how I can't grasp it, full feel it, and ultimately, can't have as much God as I want. I drink Him in, feel His presence, but it's never enough. I can't get enough of it here on earth. Of course, this is no shock, but it's frustrating. God wants to be in my life so much but I can't have as much of Him as I'd like, I still feel distant. As I said to my friend, sometimes my relationship with God feels like a long distance relationship. "There's a reason," I said, "why people won't do long distance relationships. Because they're already in one with God, they can't deal with another one." Now, I know he's right here and present all the time, but his presence is like a phone call, sometimes maybe like Skype. You're talking to him, you can hear Him, even feel him, but his presence is never going to be as strong as it could be, say, if you saw Him in person.
I have a lot of frustrations, I know the answer to these is to turn to God, pray, lay my burdens down, put Him first, rest in His love, but when I do that, I just realize how much of Him I don't have present. I'm thankful for God being present in my life at all, don't get me wrong. But, knowing how big God is, even thinking how his pure presence would feel, I can't help but desire it so strongly. Normally I'd end on some positive up-beat note about how I was in a bad place but came to some heart warming realization. This is sort of an exception.
I'm not going to say how lovely everything is because the reality is, I just miss God (and I know He misses me too) and I'm sick of this long distance relationship.
I told a friend of mine about how once I wanted to do something drastic, probably sinful, just so God would take me back, so I'd feel his presence especially heightened as I have in the past. Of course I wouldn't, but I desired to feel God's strong presence so much that I thought about it. "You're sick," he said. I started to argue but instead replied, "Yes, yes I am. I'm sick because I'm separated from him and I'm not going to be well until I see His face." And my typically argumentative friend clinked his glass against mine.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Week 33: Sun, how do you do it all the time?
So here I am, week 33- nearly halfway through my 70 weeks- writing from back home in the Midwest (“Home.” I don’t know what that word means. But more on that later). Weeks when I’m home are very impactual in this project in prayer because they are often very clarifying, meaningful, soul-shocking, painful, beautiful, beautifully painful, painfully beautiful. God often gives me some answers and revelations about the next phase of my life. I think weeks home are so meaningful because as I’ve said before, I feel called back here. So going home I pray and think and feel my way around, feeling the place out again as if, by leaving the state for a while, someone has turned the lights off and I need to feel my way around to know what my house is like and how to move from room to room. And so, I go about feeling about the Midwest- trying it on to see if it still fits. Maybe I gained some emotional or personality-based weight out on the East Coast and I can’t fit into the Midwest anymore. More like, maybe I lost a few pounds of soul or made myself thinner to fit between the thin trees, slide through the New England forests and now the wide open Midwestern fields will feel too big and baggy on me. Maybe I’ll have lost something or gained something and just look ridiculous here to the people I know and love. So every time I go home I look around, pray, see if this truly is the place I’m called to go. Which doesn’t necessarily mean that I love it or that I fit in it, interestingly enough. But those two things would be helpful or at least, make things easier even though I’d do without them if I were asked to.
Going home- I never know what that means. I call the place where I usually sleep “home.” I called my dorm room home, I call my apartment home- and yet when I say I’m “going home” for vacation, everyone knows I mean the Chicago Suburb where I grew up. In a way, my apartment out east is more home than my Chicago home but the East Coast is not my home- the Midwest is more my home. Really, I don’t know if there will be a place (this side of eternity and short of heaven) that will truly feel like home. But I do desperately want to find a place on this earth that I can call home moreso than I can call any place home now. I want to find somewhere where I’m supposed to be and supposed to stay for a while. Maybe that place is a location, a place of work, a person- maybe a combination (which would be nice), although I often fear I may never have any of those things in a way where one feels like my “home.” In a way, where I work now is more home than anything else- a place where I feel close and connected with all my students and co-workers and where I spend so much time- I even sleep there every once in a great while. Aside from a home with God- I don’t know what “home” means but I think whenever I go “home” to Chicago as of late, I find myself looking for a home in it. Looking for a home your own home- the place where you grow up. Heh. What a sorrowfully interesting notion.
So anyway, I went on another trip home- looking for home. Needless to say, I started out this trip a little worse for the wear. Tired, snappy, exhausted with my life situations and daily tasks- despite how I love the people in my daily tasks dearly and would do anything for them- time makes things more exasperating, pushes us to our breaking points. I came “home” to a horrific mess, rooms full of remnants of dead relatives and all the messes I had left here just by living the past 24 years, to a mother so broken down by illness I barely recognized her, and thus a future of painful decisions and situations- and thus a lot of decisions about my future made for me- unfolding before my eyes. I thought of all the things I want in life for myself that I fear I’ll never have and had the pain of losses of intimacy with others as times and friendships change hanging over my head. And all along, I think, “I’m called back here?! I don’t know if I can do it.” Sometimes thinking that terrible and ridiculous thought, “when am I going to live for me?” to which the answer in my heart of hearts is always, “never. I’ll always be living for God- who will give me more than I could ever ask for or attempt to gain in ‘living for me’ and even if He didn’t, He’s already done more than enough for me to owe him my lifetime- even though because He is so good, I owe nothing and could never pay Him back if I tried anyway. But that whole interestingly circular set of debt and forgiveness and love, if you understand it well enough, makes it impossible not to give your life out of love and gratitude to God.
But I digress, I came here broken and somewhat hopeless in a few respects. I prayed for strength and clarity- that God keep me strong in all I had to do on this trip- confronting the situations with my mother, situations with my friends, and sins in my own life- making sure that an idol has not returned to my heart.
And I found myself on an open road underneath the big Midwestern sky- I could see so far, much further than New England forests allow. The tall grasses were waving to me in the sun and I could see the ground, although everything glimmered as if covered in glass as the ice that coated everything shone in the sun. My favorite Christian radio station that I haven’t listened to in months played songs that I associate with so many good memories from when I student taught in the public schools back in Wisconsin, and I couldn’t help but smile. I felt free- free from the burdens of my sin for God was with me, reminding me how he’d forgiven them all and even brought me up so I could keep myself from committing them further. Free from winter’s weight- the sun was shining, I didn’t need my heavy coat. Free from feeling enclosed- the wide open road, the wide open spaces, the light was just right and there were not trees or clouds to hide me from it. There is nowhere to hide from the light of God in a wide open field. The Midwest still fit- still felt like home- I don’t know what that is- but I think if anything feels like it, it’s someplace beneath the Midwestern skies.
God rode with me, was so present- in the sunshine, the open fields, in old pictures of my family, in an old journal my grandmother wrote on her road trip to California when she, like me, was 24. In her incredibly poetic words about how her experiences with nature convicted her that there was a God. In all the things about my mother and Grandmother that I see in myself, in my close friendships stay strong no matter the time or distance, in the poetic words and stories of my friends and family, in the precious conversations I have with my mother, in the softness of my 11 year old puppy’s fur.
God, life is just so beautiful even when it seems it’s at its darkest. And I’m not taking the Lord’s name in vain there.
I often see the beauty in the world, but today I could see just how clearly all of it- ALL of it- not just the nature part (which is easier to see than the human/relationship part sometimes) was God.
I came here from a world still pretty much frozen in white and found despite the huge snow storms here, the snow had thawed thoroughly and I could see the ground. I even flew out of an overcast snow covered Boston and, even though I landed in a dreary overcast Chicago, for a few blissful hours, I took a nap in the sunshine. I had a whole row of seats to myself in the back of the plane and laid down on my back, letting the sun stream in through the window. High above the clouds that keep me from His light, I was flying now in it. Listening to a folk artist I’ve recently fallen in love with named Daisy May as she sang,
“Oh sun,
how do you do it all the time?
You take the weight off me,
take it on and you still shine.
Oh, when it rains and all the greys
come over me,
I know you remain the same
even though I cannot see you, Sun.
So do you think you could
shine a little bit for me today,
oh if you’ve got time while you’re ridin’ along
that big old skyway,
Do you think you could
shine a little bit more so I can see
and maybe someday sun, oh you’ll see me.
Oh Sun,
How do you do it all the time?
Keepin’ me warm
When I’m cold, as cold as ice.
Oh, even in the night
You still shine
When it snows and everything blows
Out the door
Oh, I know you’ll stay the same forever more
For you are the sun…”
I like to think of the sun as The Son. And I think Daisy may mean that, too. And oh, Son, I don’t know how you do it all the time because when I try I just grow weary, and cold as ice. But You keep me warm, You restore my soul, so would you shine a little bit more for me today?
Going home- I never know what that means. I call the place where I usually sleep “home.” I called my dorm room home, I call my apartment home- and yet when I say I’m “going home” for vacation, everyone knows I mean the Chicago Suburb where I grew up. In a way, my apartment out east is more home than my Chicago home but the East Coast is not my home- the Midwest is more my home. Really, I don’t know if there will be a place (this side of eternity and short of heaven) that will truly feel like home. But I do desperately want to find a place on this earth that I can call home moreso than I can call any place home now. I want to find somewhere where I’m supposed to be and supposed to stay for a while. Maybe that place is a location, a place of work, a person- maybe a combination (which would be nice), although I often fear I may never have any of those things in a way where one feels like my “home.” In a way, where I work now is more home than anything else- a place where I feel close and connected with all my students and co-workers and where I spend so much time- I even sleep there every once in a great while. Aside from a home with God- I don’t know what “home” means but I think whenever I go “home” to Chicago as of late, I find myself looking for a home in it. Looking for a home your own home- the place where you grow up. Heh. What a sorrowfully interesting notion.
So anyway, I went on another trip home- looking for home. Needless to say, I started out this trip a little worse for the wear. Tired, snappy, exhausted with my life situations and daily tasks- despite how I love the people in my daily tasks dearly and would do anything for them- time makes things more exasperating, pushes us to our breaking points. I came “home” to a horrific mess, rooms full of remnants of dead relatives and all the messes I had left here just by living the past 24 years, to a mother so broken down by illness I barely recognized her, and thus a future of painful decisions and situations- and thus a lot of decisions about my future made for me- unfolding before my eyes. I thought of all the things I want in life for myself that I fear I’ll never have and had the pain of losses of intimacy with others as times and friendships change hanging over my head. And all along, I think, “I’m called back here?! I don’t know if I can do it.” Sometimes thinking that terrible and ridiculous thought, “when am I going to live for me?” to which the answer in my heart of hearts is always, “never. I’ll always be living for God- who will give me more than I could ever ask for or attempt to gain in ‘living for me’ and even if He didn’t, He’s already done more than enough for me to owe him my lifetime- even though because He is so good, I owe nothing and could never pay Him back if I tried anyway. But that whole interestingly circular set of debt and forgiveness and love, if you understand it well enough, makes it impossible not to give your life out of love and gratitude to God.
But I digress, I came here broken and somewhat hopeless in a few respects. I prayed for strength and clarity- that God keep me strong in all I had to do on this trip- confronting the situations with my mother, situations with my friends, and sins in my own life- making sure that an idol has not returned to my heart.
And I found myself on an open road underneath the big Midwestern sky- I could see so far, much further than New England forests allow. The tall grasses were waving to me in the sun and I could see the ground, although everything glimmered as if covered in glass as the ice that coated everything shone in the sun. My favorite Christian radio station that I haven’t listened to in months played songs that I associate with so many good memories from when I student taught in the public schools back in Wisconsin, and I couldn’t help but smile. I felt free- free from the burdens of my sin for God was with me, reminding me how he’d forgiven them all and even brought me up so I could keep myself from committing them further. Free from winter’s weight- the sun was shining, I didn’t need my heavy coat. Free from feeling enclosed- the wide open road, the wide open spaces, the light was just right and there were not trees or clouds to hide me from it. There is nowhere to hide from the light of God in a wide open field. The Midwest still fit- still felt like home- I don’t know what that is- but I think if anything feels like it, it’s someplace beneath the Midwestern skies.
God rode with me, was so present- in the sunshine, the open fields, in old pictures of my family, in an old journal my grandmother wrote on her road trip to California when she, like me, was 24. In her incredibly poetic words about how her experiences with nature convicted her that there was a God. In all the things about my mother and Grandmother that I see in myself, in my close friendships stay strong no matter the time or distance, in the poetic words and stories of my friends and family, in the precious conversations I have with my mother, in the softness of my 11 year old puppy’s fur.
God, life is just so beautiful even when it seems it’s at its darkest. And I’m not taking the Lord’s name in vain there.
I often see the beauty in the world, but today I could see just how clearly all of it- ALL of it- not just the nature part (which is easier to see than the human/relationship part sometimes) was God.
I came here from a world still pretty much frozen in white and found despite the huge snow storms here, the snow had thawed thoroughly and I could see the ground. I even flew out of an overcast snow covered Boston and, even though I landed in a dreary overcast Chicago, for a few blissful hours, I took a nap in the sunshine. I had a whole row of seats to myself in the back of the plane and laid down on my back, letting the sun stream in through the window. High above the clouds that keep me from His light, I was flying now in it. Listening to a folk artist I’ve recently fallen in love with named Daisy May as she sang,
“Oh sun,
how do you do it all the time?
You take the weight off me,
take it on and you still shine.
Oh, when it rains and all the greys
come over me,
I know you remain the same
even though I cannot see you, Sun.
So do you think you could
shine a little bit for me today,
oh if you’ve got time while you’re ridin’ along
that big old skyway,
Do you think you could
shine a little bit more so I can see
and maybe someday sun, oh you’ll see me.
Oh Sun,
How do you do it all the time?
Keepin’ me warm
When I’m cold, as cold as ice.
Oh, even in the night
You still shine
When it snows and everything blows
Out the door
Oh, I know you’ll stay the same forever more
For you are the sun…”
I like to think of the sun as The Son. And I think Daisy may mean that, too. And oh, Son, I don’t know how you do it all the time because when I try I just grow weary, and cold as ice. But You keep me warm, You restore my soul, so would you shine a little bit more for me today?
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Week 32: Happy Anniversary
My birthday is always a very poetic, metaphorical, and philosophical for me. I'm very thoughtful, pondering my life, my relationship with God and with others in my life, what I've accomplished, what I'm meant to accomplish, and who I'm supposed to be. Things also always seem to fall perfectly into place in a way that the events of my birthday always seem to lay out in a perfect representation or celebration of my life. And, maybe it's my imagination, but even nature/outside just seems to decorate itself- everything seems to greet me as a familiar friend- everything around me on my birthday seems to say, "I'm glad you were born." And thus, I can't help but feel the strong presence and love of God on my birthday. In fact, I think I look forward to my birthday primarily because I know I'll feel God's presence, feel a stronger sense of His purpose for me, and just have a better understanding of his unending love for me in a way that I don't normally comprehend the other days of the year.
This year, was no exception to all of that. It Began at midnight while I played Switchfoot's "Always"- one of my favorites to listen to around my birthday. At 11:59 the song began, "This is the start, this is your heart, this is the day you were born. This is the sun, these are your lungs, this is the day you were born." and just as the word 'born' ended, the clock struck 12 am and it was indeed, the day I was born.
I awoke early in the low pre-dawn light. Laying in my bed drowsily, I saw the moon, beautiful and nearly full out my window hanging in the light blue sky and I just felt God' presence because it felt as though He had placed that moon there just for me. Work was full of blessings- my students make me laugh and love. From spraying me with water and yelling, "beach party!" to singing happy birthday in the best/most fun way possible (a happy birthday song from my students is the best happy birthday song you're going to get). I left work to a blustery February night with a bright sapphire blue sky studded by stars, outlined by rickety skeletons of trees scratching the surface of the night sky. It reminded me of the episode of "sex and the city" where it's Carrie's birthday and she realizes how much she appreciates her best friends- how important her friends are in her life despite the fact that she's another year older and she looks up at the moon and the rickety bare trees by her apartment and she lets her balloons float into the sky. I feel like today was all like that- just appreciating what I have in my life and not being angry or sad about what I don't have. I just spent the day realizing how blessed I was. I went out to dinner with a good mix of friends and was so touched that some of my friends made an effort to come out all this way to see me and to spend time with me even though not all of them knew each other. For coming out here only a year and a half ago, I sure am incredibly lucky to have found so many great groups of friends here.
I drove home, beneath the starlight, the moon large and mystical looking through the trees, listening to the wind rush past my car, catching glimpses of the lantern lights of the stores on top of the dark hills. And like every birthday, I spent some quality time with God, just reveling in his presence and love. I did not dwell, as I often do, on my failings- how I fail to be who God wants me to be in daily activities. Instead, I just felt His pure, forgiving love for me. And I realized something: what I really have been celebrating on my birthday these past few years when I philosophize, think about my life/relationship with God and just enjoy the fact that He gave me another year on earth is my anniversary with God. It really seems to fit the nature of what goes on in my head/heart/spiritual life on my birthday.
While God's love is eternal and thus has no beginning and no end, the day that I was born was the beginning of that love being made obvious (or even "official") to the world because it was then that I began to exist and His love for me could be pinned to a love He had for an actual tangible human form. It was also the beginning of when I began to experience His love. So, today I celebrated my 24th anniversary with God. I spent most of it appreciating and living out His love in all the forms it comes in and in the end, I went home to Him, spent quiet time with Him, and just let His love wash over me. I feel so much peace, reaffirmed in what I'm meant for and that God really is working in my life, carrying out a plan, and leading me where He wants me. And who knows, next year when I celebrate my next "anniversary" I'll have an idea of what I'm doing in the next phase of my life and two years from today, I'll be living that next phase. How time flies. But, I have faith, as I always do on my birthday, that God is leading me towards all the good I need in my life and towards all the places He wants me.
Thus, it was another happy birthday- really, a happy anniversary- a celebration of 24 years of a life together with God.
This year, was no exception to all of that. It Began at midnight while I played Switchfoot's "Always"- one of my favorites to listen to around my birthday. At 11:59 the song began, "This is the start, this is your heart, this is the day you were born. This is the sun, these are your lungs, this is the day you were born." and just as the word 'born' ended, the clock struck 12 am and it was indeed, the day I was born.
I awoke early in the low pre-dawn light. Laying in my bed drowsily, I saw the moon, beautiful and nearly full out my window hanging in the light blue sky and I just felt God' presence because it felt as though He had placed that moon there just for me. Work was full of blessings- my students make me laugh and love. From spraying me with water and yelling, "beach party!" to singing happy birthday in the best/most fun way possible (a happy birthday song from my students is the best happy birthday song you're going to get). I left work to a blustery February night with a bright sapphire blue sky studded by stars, outlined by rickety skeletons of trees scratching the surface of the night sky. It reminded me of the episode of "sex and the city" where it's Carrie's birthday and she realizes how much she appreciates her best friends- how important her friends are in her life despite the fact that she's another year older and she looks up at the moon and the rickety bare trees by her apartment and she lets her balloons float into the sky. I feel like today was all like that- just appreciating what I have in my life and not being angry or sad about what I don't have. I just spent the day realizing how blessed I was. I went out to dinner with a good mix of friends and was so touched that some of my friends made an effort to come out all this way to see me and to spend time with me even though not all of them knew each other. For coming out here only a year and a half ago, I sure am incredibly lucky to have found so many great groups of friends here.
I drove home, beneath the starlight, the moon large and mystical looking through the trees, listening to the wind rush past my car, catching glimpses of the lantern lights of the stores on top of the dark hills. And like every birthday, I spent some quality time with God, just reveling in his presence and love. I did not dwell, as I often do, on my failings- how I fail to be who God wants me to be in daily activities. Instead, I just felt His pure, forgiving love for me. And I realized something: what I really have been celebrating on my birthday these past few years when I philosophize, think about my life/relationship with God and just enjoy the fact that He gave me another year on earth is my anniversary with God. It really seems to fit the nature of what goes on in my head/heart/spiritual life on my birthday.
While God's love is eternal and thus has no beginning and no end, the day that I was born was the beginning of that love being made obvious (or even "official") to the world because it was then that I began to exist and His love for me could be pinned to a love He had for an actual tangible human form. It was also the beginning of when I began to experience His love. So, today I celebrated my 24th anniversary with God. I spent most of it appreciating and living out His love in all the forms it comes in and in the end, I went home to Him, spent quiet time with Him, and just let His love wash over me. I feel so much peace, reaffirmed in what I'm meant for and that God really is working in my life, carrying out a plan, and leading me where He wants me. And who knows, next year when I celebrate my next "anniversary" I'll have an idea of what I'm doing in the next phase of my life and two years from today, I'll be living that next phase. How time flies. But, I have faith, as I always do on my birthday, that God is leading me towards all the good I need in my life and towards all the places He wants me.
Thus, it was another happy birthday- really, a happy anniversary- a celebration of 24 years of a life together with God.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Week 31: Blah, Blah, Blah... Love and Sunshine!
I've had a lot of miscellaneous ideas floating around my head this week, I've had some revelations about my life, and it's Valentines Day, so the possibilities of a post are endless. I was going to talk about idolatry, and "peace/love worshipers," there were all kinds of complicated theological ideas I thought about delving into. I could go into the complexities of Love and His love for us and how our love on earth relates to His love for us, etc. I could go into how I'm aware of how transient everything is, how good it feels for things to be stripped away, etc. All of these would inevitably lead to discussing my failings in areas of idolatry, sacrifice, and love, etc. and how I need to work on them and change them. Blah, blah, blah. These are all very important, but I talk about this all the time- I write to you about these things all the time, I'm in my head, using so many words all the time, over-thinking the world around me. And mostly, I like it that way, I work, well that way. I sat at my computer in my sunlit living room typing up some lengthy preachy post on idolatry and then I just got sick of it. So I'll write to you about what I did instead of writing you a preachy post.
I put on some subtly Christian folk music, opened up my balcony door, and stood on the threshold in my T-shirt and bare feet and let the sun fall on my free, bare arms. Let the cold February air come in and contrast with the warm light. I just stood there in the doorway, closing my eyes. I let the sunlight come in through my eyes and just saw the warm flesh tone of my eyelids- I could see the sun through them, it was so bright. Everything was melting, warming, the sky was bright, clouds were scattered, the snow still white and bright- but no longer suffocating. Life and freedom was in the air and God was just so present. He was right there and his love was all around me- outside me, and within me, within my memory as so many blessings in my life, cards, notes, funny anecdotes I had received from loved ones- flooded over me.
I felt the wind caress my face, brush back my hair. Ever since I was a child I always went outside to feel the wind on my face- I always felt like it was the closest I could get to God- like His hand was caressing me softly. When I felt scared or sad or lonely or just needed God, I would go out on my balcony or stick my head out the window just to feel the wind. I still remember a terrible night my freshman year of college where I went to the window, seeking redemption, answers, God's presence. I wanted it so desperately I stood by the window and I remember my dismay, how tragic it seemed when I could not feel the wind.
But none of that was here today- God was here and it felt so good. I stretched my arms up, held my palms out as if to take in all the light I could into my being. And I realized, no matter what I don't have, no matter what the future holds, I have all I need and I am genuinely happy. Today, God was my valentine. And here's the thing about God: He's the best a girl could hope for. He knows everything about you, knows you better than you could know yourself, has known you all your life, and he loves you exactly as you are, and he gave you a gift this Valentine's day: He gave you today.
I put on some subtly Christian folk music, opened up my balcony door, and stood on the threshold in my T-shirt and bare feet and let the sun fall on my free, bare arms. Let the cold February air come in and contrast with the warm light. I just stood there in the doorway, closing my eyes. I let the sunlight come in through my eyes and just saw the warm flesh tone of my eyelids- I could see the sun through them, it was so bright. Everything was melting, warming, the sky was bright, clouds were scattered, the snow still white and bright- but no longer suffocating. Life and freedom was in the air and God was just so present. He was right there and his love was all around me- outside me, and within me, within my memory as so many blessings in my life, cards, notes, funny anecdotes I had received from loved ones- flooded over me.
I felt the wind caress my face, brush back my hair. Ever since I was a child I always went outside to feel the wind on my face- I always felt like it was the closest I could get to God- like His hand was caressing me softly. When I felt scared or sad or lonely or just needed God, I would go out on my balcony or stick my head out the window just to feel the wind. I still remember a terrible night my freshman year of college where I went to the window, seeking redemption, answers, God's presence. I wanted it so desperately I stood by the window and I remember my dismay, how tragic it seemed when I could not feel the wind.
But none of that was here today- God was here and it felt so good. I stretched my arms up, held my palms out as if to take in all the light I could into my being. And I realized, no matter what I don't have, no matter what the future holds, I have all I need and I am genuinely happy. Today, God was my valentine. And here's the thing about God: He's the best a girl could hope for. He knows everything about you, knows you better than you could know yourself, has known you all your life, and he loves you exactly as you are, and he gave you a gift this Valentine's day: He gave you today.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Week 30: The good news: "Everything you love will be taken away"
If you haven't heard the "Good News" it's that God loves you so much that he sent his only son Jesus to be your savior, to die for your sins and if you believe in him, they are washed away. But if you have heard THE "Good News" I wonder what you think good news is.
Well, Slaid Cleaves, a kind of grifter folk singer has some good news for you. He doesn't realize it's good, but that's because I don't think he truly knows about THE "Good News." The good news Slaid proclaims is that "everything you love will be taken away."
I heard that song performed at open mic a few months ago and today, while driving, singing along to Sugarland as a form of praise music (because Jesus and I are "stuck like glue"), I switched over to my favorite obscure local Boston folk radio station and Slaid's song, "Cry" came on. It was completing fitting with something I'd read this morning by C.S. Lewis and as much as this song is of a very hopeless and depressing nature, I found it incredibly uplifting.
The song discusses a few different relationships, how they will fade- it talks of worldly things that will die- "even blue skies fade to grey, everything you love will be taken away." It conveys the idea that as much as you want to hold onto worldly things that will make you happy- they will soon be gone. Although, it does not provide an alternative happiness explicitly. I think the intention was to assume defeat, that nothing good is redeemed when "everything you love will be taken away."
Now Clive Staples is a little more optimistic than Slaid Cleaves. In "A slip of the tongue" he speaks of how we attempt to keep some part of our lives for ourselves. In my case, that had been my personal relationships- thinking that was something for me, not for God to take control of. Although, as you may have read in some of my posts in the past couple of months, I'm in a better place now- I've had a few major revelations. But, while God will forgive us for our many mistakes, he does not tolerate our intentional and constant refusal to give a part of our sinful selves in to His will.
But giving ALL of yourself to God is easier said than done. It's a frightening thing- it means giving everything you love (except for God) away. Thus, you have to give up all of your worldly loves- even your family, relationships, friends. This doesn't mean stop loving them, you just release your will in controlling, choosing, and influencing them to God. You must be in a place where you would give everything you love away to He whom you (should) love most. You must be in a place where you are honestly willing to do this- and I've found myself called to cash in that idea where I have been told by God I really did have to give up something I loved.
Fortunately, because we have a loving God, He will, as long as it is within His will (and thus likely in our best interest), frequently give us back all that we surrender to Him.
So, giving away all you love is different than it being taken. But at some point, even if you're given back what you surrendered, at some point, it will have to go, and will be gone. Maybe not forever, but you won't see it again this side of eternity and when you see it again, it won't be the same- it will mean something else, it will likely have become part of something different and greater.
There was a point years ago when I came to a personally startling realization: that in the end, I would be alone. We surround ourselves with people: friends, family- hoping we will not be alone, that people will know who we are. But in the end, who really knows who you truly are and who you've been? Your parents know you better than you know yourself sometimes- they knew you since you were born. But they may only know you half your life. They won't see you in your later years. Your spouse probably didn't see your youthful, growing years and they may not even see your last few years. Your friends, they may know you longest, but they'll likely not know you your entire life long. The only one that knows all of you is God. And in the end, no matter how many people surround you when you die, they're not with you when you move into eternity. At least not at first, I don't think, if at all. In the end it's just you, yourself and God. And I find that comforting.
I often think the world gets in the way of my relationship with God- I love so much, but I don't love purely and I don't always love what counts. And even if I do love what counts, sometimes it takes away from my pure focus on God. And so, it sounds comforting that in the end, all the things I loved will be stripped away leaving me to the purest, cleanest, simplest relationship with my God. He and I are all that remain. The good news is, that everything you love will be taken away- except God, He'll stay- and you'll understand that everything you ever really loved was always only Him in the first place.
Well, Slaid Cleaves, a kind of grifter folk singer has some good news for you. He doesn't realize it's good, but that's because I don't think he truly knows about THE "Good News." The good news Slaid proclaims is that "everything you love will be taken away."
I heard that song performed at open mic a few months ago and today, while driving, singing along to Sugarland as a form of praise music (because Jesus and I are "stuck like glue"), I switched over to my favorite obscure local Boston folk radio station and Slaid's song, "Cry" came on. It was completing fitting with something I'd read this morning by C.S. Lewis and as much as this song is of a very hopeless and depressing nature, I found it incredibly uplifting.
The song discusses a few different relationships, how they will fade- it talks of worldly things that will die- "even blue skies fade to grey, everything you love will be taken away." It conveys the idea that as much as you want to hold onto worldly things that will make you happy- they will soon be gone. Although, it does not provide an alternative happiness explicitly. I think the intention was to assume defeat, that nothing good is redeemed when "everything you love will be taken away."
Now Clive Staples is a little more optimistic than Slaid Cleaves. In "A slip of the tongue" he speaks of how we attempt to keep some part of our lives for ourselves. In my case, that had been my personal relationships- thinking that was something for me, not for God to take control of. Although, as you may have read in some of my posts in the past couple of months, I'm in a better place now- I've had a few major revelations. But, while God will forgive us for our many mistakes, he does not tolerate our intentional and constant refusal to give a part of our sinful selves in to His will.
But giving ALL of yourself to God is easier said than done. It's a frightening thing- it means giving everything you love (except for God) away. Thus, you have to give up all of your worldly loves- even your family, relationships, friends. This doesn't mean stop loving them, you just release your will in controlling, choosing, and influencing them to God. You must be in a place where you would give everything you love away to He whom you (should) love most. You must be in a place where you are honestly willing to do this- and I've found myself called to cash in that idea where I have been told by God I really did have to give up something I loved.
Fortunately, because we have a loving God, He will, as long as it is within His will (and thus likely in our best interest), frequently give us back all that we surrender to Him.
So, giving away all you love is different than it being taken. But at some point, even if you're given back what you surrendered, at some point, it will have to go, and will be gone. Maybe not forever, but you won't see it again this side of eternity and when you see it again, it won't be the same- it will mean something else, it will likely have become part of something different and greater.
There was a point years ago when I came to a personally startling realization: that in the end, I would be alone. We surround ourselves with people: friends, family- hoping we will not be alone, that people will know who we are. But in the end, who really knows who you truly are and who you've been? Your parents know you better than you know yourself sometimes- they knew you since you were born. But they may only know you half your life. They won't see you in your later years. Your spouse probably didn't see your youthful, growing years and they may not even see your last few years. Your friends, they may know you longest, but they'll likely not know you your entire life long. The only one that knows all of you is God. And in the end, no matter how many people surround you when you die, they're not with you when you move into eternity. At least not at first, I don't think, if at all. In the end it's just you, yourself and God. And I find that comforting.
I often think the world gets in the way of my relationship with God- I love so much, but I don't love purely and I don't always love what counts. And even if I do love what counts, sometimes it takes away from my pure focus on God. And so, it sounds comforting that in the end, all the things I loved will be stripped away leaving me to the purest, cleanest, simplest relationship with my God. He and I are all that remain. The good news is, that everything you love will be taken away- except God, He'll stay- and you'll understand that everything you ever really loved was always only Him in the first place.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Week 29: Specificity and preparations
One question I've struggled with for a while is the specificity of God's will for each of us. I have friends who believe God has a general will for the world, but that, because we have free will, God is not specific about many of our individual choices and life circumstances, as long as they do not fall within the realm of sin. I have a friend who feels God gives him some general parameters but (purposely) leaves many of the specifics, and often seemingly major details up to him. Another friend feels God never gives her specifics of what she should do- only a general inclination to one general place, and then what she should do follows- that is, if she gets clear convictions or direction at all. In fact, a majority of the people I know feel they don't get clear direction from God, and they crave it (although, some are happy or simply at peace with the generality). This has always thrown me off because I'm generally the opposite. I have always felt God had a specific plan for me life- that there was something very specific I was supposed to do. And we're not just talking profession. I feel called to be a teacher (and God's will is related to this), but many people who feel God's will with them is not very specific still feel called by God to a profession. The difference (I think) with me is that there is at least one thing (more likely a large scale set of things)I am supposed to accomplish with my calling- and God is not general. He has always been very specific. Not that he ever gives me clear answers on what exactly it is I'm journeying towards, but the path has always been very narrow. I've felt many inclinations that teaching in a certain place, going down a certain path within my profession, was not the journey God had planned for me. I've also felt called to very specific places and aspects of my profession (and other areas of my life as well). I find myself having to be very careful because I am often offered many opportunities to do things I would enjoy, things I would be good at, things seemingly within my calling, but that are not part of the specific path God has planned for me.
God has always been very specific in my life- in multiple areas. I think sometimes I forget this, and try to take my own way. Sometimes I hear my friends talking of all their general answers from God- the freedom they feel they have to choose where they go, what they do, who they're in a relationship with. I've never felt I had this freedom. Am I crazy? Am I wrong in thinking God is this specific about His will for me and maybe His will for me is just as general as it is for the next person? Is His will more specific than other people realize? Or, is it that His will is specific for some and more general for others based on who each person is as well as the nature of what God has planned for them? Maybe with some people, God needs to be more specific than others.
Since my mother has gotten sick in the past few years, our relationship has really evolved. I'd say healed, because it's improved and some broken things have become unbroken- but I feel like "healed" implies that it once was right, was broken, and is better again. But many parts of our relationship, I can't remember when they were ever right, ever as they are now. Especially in more recent times, we're much more open with each other. I feel like our openness and ability to talk deeply about emotions and faith with each other (which we didn't do for many years when I was younger, despite being very close)increases with each medical scare she has. This week, it was leukemia. Blood tests made it look like a very real possibility, and though a visit with her oncologist a few days later confirmed it wasn't, I think it still partially fueled one of our more serious and personal conversations.
Mom and I rarely talk faith/God. It happens more and more these days as my faith is much more developed (although, despite growing up in a church, the same one my mother is a member of, it developed very independently from my mother)and as my mother is attending church more and in a small group bible study with women from church. Although, I find my mother now often turns to me asking my opinion of things, and I'm surprised how much mine differs from hers- often in that mine might be labeled a little more "extreme." More likely, mine is founded on the scripture I've read in more recent years. Mom doesn't read scripture very often- she has a collection of views of God from her personal experience with Him that she uses as a basis for her faith. Recently it came up that some women in her bible study expressed being angry with God, even resentful. And my mother expressed how shocked she was, saying she never felt angry with God, asking if that was weird. She asked if I ever felt angry with God and was kind of surprised and interested when I told her about my "fights" with God. "Really?! You don't really mean FIGHT, though, right?" she said. "Um, yeah, I think I do. Not "FIGHT" because he'd win- but we get in tiffs," I said. She was surprised, I explained that the main issue would be my feeling resentful of God because I felt He often required specific things of me that I did not always want to ascent to. Usually involving giving up worldly things I wanted in order to conform to the specificity of His will. In a way, I occasionally look at myself as the victim of destiny, which is not at all healthy. I'm getting much better at it, but in my darkest times, when I'm resentful of God, that is likely the reason why. I talked of how specific I felt God had been with me and my mother didn't really need to hear details. "That makes sense she said. What you're saying makes sense with everything I've always known about you since you were little."
This surprised me, and yet it didn't. First of all, you have to understand my relationship with my mother. We don't talk about faith. My mother knows that I am called, but we have never spoken of the specifics of the convictions I feel I have directly from God. And while my mother has often said she felt I was called- as she had since I was in high school- I was surprised she knew when I was that young. Although, I shouldn't be- because I knew at a young age- perhaps 7- that God had something planned for me that I was supposed to do. Something specific. So if I knew, I suppose mother's always know everything, she must have known as well. I asked her why specifically and she said there was just something about how I was as well as how I came to be born and how our lives worked out. She never really was on "the mommy track," never really wanted kids until she felt kind of called to it in her mid thirties. My mother has stated before she got married in order to have a child. My parents were married a short time as my father was an emotionally abusive alcoholic and my mother struggled financially as a single parent. Things were tough for us at times, but we always had what we needed. Even though it was just the two of us for a long time, things always just seemed to "magically" work out. I've always felt all the events of my life lined up perfectly pointing in a direction- every single piece of the puzzle fits to point to exactly where God wants me next- all the little aspects blend into and lend to each other perfectly. Mom always said she felt she was "protected" because she needed to care for me. She said she worried when I moved out and became more self sufficient that she wouldn't be protected any more, and I think she thinks this sickness has come about now because circumstances are such that it wouldn't necessarily be greatly detrimental to my path. In short, my mother seemed to understand perfectly that God gave me very specific directions because she had felt it herself. I think of anyone, my mother seems to understand the nature of my being called- what it means, how it affects me, what God wants from me, more than anyone else. And it's not because she's experienced it herself- I think God has been pretty general in His will for her. But, perhaps that's the mother child bond, maybe it's something about having been part of my mother at one time, and I being a part of her- there's something innate in me that only she could comprehend. And, when I speak of my calling, I think I generally sound boastful, ridiculous, pompous, full of myself (which I'm sure I have throughout this entire post) but my mother doesn't seem to find it ridiculous or boastful at all- she thinks it makes complete sense with who I am. But, my mother has known me all my life, so she just KNOWS me.
The point of all this being, after discussing with my mother, I have definitely come to the conclusion that God's will is very specific for some and more general for others- at least, the part that he reveals differs. His will may be very specific for everyone- but he may be more specific in what he reveals to each person. I think this last idea is really dependent on how free you think your will is and how much is predestined. I'm still meditating on that.
But this idea of God's specificity for my life- in all areas, is really opening up how I look at things. While I've always known He's been specific, I haven't broken it down into this idea before- that He's particularly specific with me, and that it branches into ALL parts of my life. If you've read my more recent posts, you might recall a conversation I had with Him recently about being ready for a relationship. Well, further conversations and thoughts have made me realize how specificity applies there as well. The area of relationships is confusing for me because I was never a "mommy track" person- unlike many of my female friends, I don't believe you can plan to get married or have kids- you can't put it on your to-do list. Maybe some people can, but with the specifics God has planned for me, I can't. If God has a general plan for you- you may be able to say God's will is for you to be a wife/husband and potentially a mother/father. Some may say that God is ok with it, whatever they choose. I feel like any relationship is going to impact so many other areas of my life where God is so specific, that this is not an area where God is neutral on whatever I decide to do.
And most recently I realized something- I am not called to just teach in general somewhere- I am called to teach special needs children with the most rehabilitative practices and I'm called to do this in a certain place, in a certain capacity, with certain students. Just as I am called in that way, I am not called to be a wife or a mother- and I don't want to be a wife ore a mother. I'm called to be SOMEONE's wife, and those someone's mother. I don't want to get married to get married, I don't want a relationship for the sake of a relationship. I want there to be someone who makes me want to get married/be in a relationship, with whom I feel called to be in a relationship/ marry. And I think I have to feel this way. I settle for nothing less than being called by God into a work circumstance, so why would I settle for less than that with a potentially life long relationship?
Again, not that any of this is immediately pressing. There are no circumstances making this revelation imminent but I feel as though God is preparing me. This 70 weeks is not only a time to straighten out my relationship with God and pray about my course of action at the end of my program here, I think it's a time where God is working to get me ready for my next phase of life. He's preparing me for what I need to look for in a relationship, how to recognize it when I see it, He's preparing me for the kinds of things I'll need to do in my work with students and colleagues, he's even preparing me for losing my mother. Mom and I have talked that we don't expect her to live beyond the next ten years- and we're doubting she'll be around much longer than 5 (although who knows?). But I've faced what appeared to be her imminent death already this year- to come out of it- but yet to appreciate it and know to appreciate her while I have her. At the same time, I'm beginning to cope with and comprehend the idea of being alone as mom is my only family. Mom and I discussed how, if I ever have children, she will very likely not be alive. Knowing that, preparing for that, I think will make it a lot less hurtful when the time comes. If I ever were to marry, I may have to walk down the aisle alone (as the only person I'd have walk me would be my mother- it doesn't make sense for anyone else to do it). I may move back home alone to an empty condo full of my mother's things, I may face unexpected relationships, I may face the hardship of schools where my educational practices are not expected or understood, where doing the best for students means risking a lot of things and takes a lot of courage.
In short, I think my next phase of life is going to be a doozie and God is getting me ready. In a way, I should probably be glorying in my 70 weeks because this is probably a much simpler, much more innocent, and easier time.
God has always been very specific in my life- in multiple areas. I think sometimes I forget this, and try to take my own way. Sometimes I hear my friends talking of all their general answers from God- the freedom they feel they have to choose where they go, what they do, who they're in a relationship with. I've never felt I had this freedom. Am I crazy? Am I wrong in thinking God is this specific about His will for me and maybe His will for me is just as general as it is for the next person? Is His will more specific than other people realize? Or, is it that His will is specific for some and more general for others based on who each person is as well as the nature of what God has planned for them? Maybe with some people, God needs to be more specific than others.
Since my mother has gotten sick in the past few years, our relationship has really evolved. I'd say healed, because it's improved and some broken things have become unbroken- but I feel like "healed" implies that it once was right, was broken, and is better again. But many parts of our relationship, I can't remember when they were ever right, ever as they are now. Especially in more recent times, we're much more open with each other. I feel like our openness and ability to talk deeply about emotions and faith with each other (which we didn't do for many years when I was younger, despite being very close)increases with each medical scare she has. This week, it was leukemia. Blood tests made it look like a very real possibility, and though a visit with her oncologist a few days later confirmed it wasn't, I think it still partially fueled one of our more serious and personal conversations.
Mom and I rarely talk faith/God. It happens more and more these days as my faith is much more developed (although, despite growing up in a church, the same one my mother is a member of, it developed very independently from my mother)and as my mother is attending church more and in a small group bible study with women from church. Although, I find my mother now often turns to me asking my opinion of things, and I'm surprised how much mine differs from hers- often in that mine might be labeled a little more "extreme." More likely, mine is founded on the scripture I've read in more recent years. Mom doesn't read scripture very often- she has a collection of views of God from her personal experience with Him that she uses as a basis for her faith. Recently it came up that some women in her bible study expressed being angry with God, even resentful. And my mother expressed how shocked she was, saying she never felt angry with God, asking if that was weird. She asked if I ever felt angry with God and was kind of surprised and interested when I told her about my "fights" with God. "Really?! You don't really mean FIGHT, though, right?" she said. "Um, yeah, I think I do. Not "FIGHT" because he'd win- but we get in tiffs," I said. She was surprised, I explained that the main issue would be my feeling resentful of God because I felt He often required specific things of me that I did not always want to ascent to. Usually involving giving up worldly things I wanted in order to conform to the specificity of His will. In a way, I occasionally look at myself as the victim of destiny, which is not at all healthy. I'm getting much better at it, but in my darkest times, when I'm resentful of God, that is likely the reason why. I talked of how specific I felt God had been with me and my mother didn't really need to hear details. "That makes sense she said. What you're saying makes sense with everything I've always known about you since you were little."
This surprised me, and yet it didn't. First of all, you have to understand my relationship with my mother. We don't talk about faith. My mother knows that I am called, but we have never spoken of the specifics of the convictions I feel I have directly from God. And while my mother has often said she felt I was called- as she had since I was in high school- I was surprised she knew when I was that young. Although, I shouldn't be- because I knew at a young age- perhaps 7- that God had something planned for me that I was supposed to do. Something specific. So if I knew, I suppose mother's always know everything, she must have known as well. I asked her why specifically and she said there was just something about how I was as well as how I came to be born and how our lives worked out. She never really was on "the mommy track," never really wanted kids until she felt kind of called to it in her mid thirties. My mother has stated before she got married in order to have a child. My parents were married a short time as my father was an emotionally abusive alcoholic and my mother struggled financially as a single parent. Things were tough for us at times, but we always had what we needed. Even though it was just the two of us for a long time, things always just seemed to "magically" work out. I've always felt all the events of my life lined up perfectly pointing in a direction- every single piece of the puzzle fits to point to exactly where God wants me next- all the little aspects blend into and lend to each other perfectly. Mom always said she felt she was "protected" because she needed to care for me. She said she worried when I moved out and became more self sufficient that she wouldn't be protected any more, and I think she thinks this sickness has come about now because circumstances are such that it wouldn't necessarily be greatly detrimental to my path. In short, my mother seemed to understand perfectly that God gave me very specific directions because she had felt it herself. I think of anyone, my mother seems to understand the nature of my being called- what it means, how it affects me, what God wants from me, more than anyone else. And it's not because she's experienced it herself- I think God has been pretty general in His will for her. But, perhaps that's the mother child bond, maybe it's something about having been part of my mother at one time, and I being a part of her- there's something innate in me that only she could comprehend. And, when I speak of my calling, I think I generally sound boastful, ridiculous, pompous, full of myself (which I'm sure I have throughout this entire post) but my mother doesn't seem to find it ridiculous or boastful at all- she thinks it makes complete sense with who I am. But, my mother has known me all my life, so she just KNOWS me.
The point of all this being, after discussing with my mother, I have definitely come to the conclusion that God's will is very specific for some and more general for others- at least, the part that he reveals differs. His will may be very specific for everyone- but he may be more specific in what he reveals to each person. I think this last idea is really dependent on how free you think your will is and how much is predestined. I'm still meditating on that.
But this idea of God's specificity for my life- in all areas, is really opening up how I look at things. While I've always known He's been specific, I haven't broken it down into this idea before- that He's particularly specific with me, and that it branches into ALL parts of my life. If you've read my more recent posts, you might recall a conversation I had with Him recently about being ready for a relationship. Well, further conversations and thoughts have made me realize how specificity applies there as well. The area of relationships is confusing for me because I was never a "mommy track" person- unlike many of my female friends, I don't believe you can plan to get married or have kids- you can't put it on your to-do list. Maybe some people can, but with the specifics God has planned for me, I can't. If God has a general plan for you- you may be able to say God's will is for you to be a wife/husband and potentially a mother/father. Some may say that God is ok with it, whatever they choose. I feel like any relationship is going to impact so many other areas of my life where God is so specific, that this is not an area where God is neutral on whatever I decide to do.
And most recently I realized something- I am not called to just teach in general somewhere- I am called to teach special needs children with the most rehabilitative practices and I'm called to do this in a certain place, in a certain capacity, with certain students. Just as I am called in that way, I am not called to be a wife or a mother- and I don't want to be a wife ore a mother. I'm called to be SOMEONE's wife, and those someone's mother. I don't want to get married to get married, I don't want a relationship for the sake of a relationship. I want there to be someone who makes me want to get married/be in a relationship, with whom I feel called to be in a relationship/ marry. And I think I have to feel this way. I settle for nothing less than being called by God into a work circumstance, so why would I settle for less than that with a potentially life long relationship?
Again, not that any of this is immediately pressing. There are no circumstances making this revelation imminent but I feel as though God is preparing me. This 70 weeks is not only a time to straighten out my relationship with God and pray about my course of action at the end of my program here, I think it's a time where God is working to get me ready for my next phase of life. He's preparing me for what I need to look for in a relationship, how to recognize it when I see it, He's preparing me for the kinds of things I'll need to do in my work with students and colleagues, he's even preparing me for losing my mother. Mom and I have talked that we don't expect her to live beyond the next ten years- and we're doubting she'll be around much longer than 5 (although who knows?). But I've faced what appeared to be her imminent death already this year- to come out of it- but yet to appreciate it and know to appreciate her while I have her. At the same time, I'm beginning to cope with and comprehend the idea of being alone as mom is my only family. Mom and I discussed how, if I ever have children, she will very likely not be alive. Knowing that, preparing for that, I think will make it a lot less hurtful when the time comes. If I ever were to marry, I may have to walk down the aisle alone (as the only person I'd have walk me would be my mother- it doesn't make sense for anyone else to do it). I may move back home alone to an empty condo full of my mother's things, I may face unexpected relationships, I may face the hardship of schools where my educational practices are not expected or understood, where doing the best for students means risking a lot of things and takes a lot of courage.
In short, I think my next phase of life is going to be a doozie and God is getting me ready. In a way, I should probably be glorying in my 70 weeks because this is probably a much simpler, much more innocent, and easier time.
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