Feeling Grateful: Gore & the Red Sox

Life is so good.

Al Gore & colleagues won the Nobel Peace Prize. Way to go, Al! How proud I am to share his name.

My beloved Red Sox decisively won game 1 of the AL Championship Series against the Cleveland Indians. Way to go, Bo Sox! As in 2004, I'll be wearing my Sox team cap and red socks whenever possible. I plan to sleep in my 2004 Red Sox World Series Champions t-shirt.

I am very glad that these things can make me happy at a very uncertain time in my life. I recall four dark years not so long ago when I prayed each night to die in my sleep and then awoke in the morning feeling angry that I was still alive. Sure, the ups and downs of losing my job and going it alone in life can weigh me down. But if I can feel joy over these events then I'm doing pretty well.

The choir is singing in church tonight. Yes, life is good!

A Clear Mind

God wants me to open myself up to him by clearning away the debris of anxieties, cares, to-do's. If I can clear a path through those - the wider the better - He will honor that effort and make his way in.

Previously I had thought that the worries themselves were some sort of conduit that God was using to speak to me. Perhaps he does use those things to teach me sometimes. But He doesn't need them - He wants to speak to me directly and more often than not all the junk of life threatens to drown Him out. Spirit to spirit communication is what He wants, albeit a great spirit to a much lesser one.

When I commune with God through prayer and meditation, a clear mind is best. I can then rest in Him and open myself to truly listen to Him.

Marriage and Children - Life Decisions

Last weekend I went to my nephew/future niece-in-law's wedding shower. I was the only female in my generation who was single. I don't mind at all being without children; I do mind the social ostracization that goes with being both single and childless.

Choosing not to have children is one of the few major decisions in my life that I truly thought out, and except for a random minute now and then (totalling no more than 5), I have had no regrets. Unlike so many people with and without children, I chose my parental status with eyes open. I have great respect for those who did the same, whether or not they are parents. Most of those people are happy with their status as well.

Of course those who truly wanted children with reasonable expectations are respected. People like me are judged and scorned, called selfish and childhaters. Yes, it bothers me - but whatever. This is one area where I truly believe I've followed God's will for my life. Heck, I ruined my marriage by my bad behavior, and I continue to suffer the consequences, make poor choices, and have an attitude about men and marriage that just sucks. So at least I made one good decision that I don't have to worry about while trying to clean up after that bad ones.

Aging, The Ordinary, and Gratefulness

As I approach my 50th birthday, I have been contemplating the negative and positive effects of aging more and more while I experience them. As we age, our preferences in reading material, music, food, movies, leisure activities in general, and so many other things begin to narrow. I used to eat just about anything and enjoy all types of music, but my tolerance for bad food and raucous music has diminished to a pinpoint.

Yet I have found that in some ways, just the opposite may occur, in that I am pleased even more by the simple and ordinary things of life that I used to take for granted.

Here I am at my family's summer place on a quiet lake in central New Hampshire. The sun has been absent the past few days, replaced by thick clouds and occasional showers. It's humid and dank. The towel I used to dry myself after yesterday's shower is still damp.

In my childhood, days like this, especially two or more in a row stuck in a smallish cabin with my family – no swimming, limited boating and uncomfortable hiking - would be cause for much stress and unhappiness. After all, those were the activities we traveled here for.

In contrast, I have savored these past few days. I have sat on the porch reading and writing, frequently looking up to view the changing scene before me. The morphing cloud formations, the march of rain across the lake, the clouds lifting to reveal the Belknap Mountains miles away. Taking a stretch break, I stand on the deck and breathe deeply, taking in the scent of the moist pine tress around me and the carpet of pine needles on the ground. Crouching on the dock, I watch minnows swim by in the clear water, and a mussel or two moving along the sandy bottom at a glacial pace. On the rocky beach, I observe for the umpteenth time in my life how much more beautiful the rocks are in the water than on dry land, the variety of colors more intense when wet.

I sit. I may think or pray, although just being is more than good enough. I am grateful. These ordinary God-given things that surround me fill me with deep joy and thanksgiving.

Saturday Night Fellowship

At the urging of some friends, I approached my church's connection center about forming a Saturday evening fellowship. My vision is to form an informal group of Christians to share discussion and an activity (like a meal) after the Saturday service, keeping up the momentum from the service. Any adult would be welcome, and children too if they're accompanied by an adult. No limits on demographics.

I got a call a few days later from a volunteer with the singles ministry. He tried to redirect me to other groups, none of which meet on Saturday, and all directed at singles he believes are my age. I told him what I was trying to do, and he said he would pass it along to the intern minister of the singles ministry.

Lonely Single Woman Without Date on Saturday Night Looks to Form Group. I could just hear the headline in his head.

That was two weeks ago and I've heard nothing. I'm not going to let it go though. I will find a better approach and the right person to talk to, not in the singles ministry. If I have to, I'll form it myself using Craigslist and Yahoo Groups but that's fraught with dangers. I'd much rather do it through the church. No, not giving up yet.

Jerry Falwell

Jerry Falwell, one of the originators of the Christian Right, died last week. I can't say that I mourn him, but his death made me rethink my feelings about him and his views.

Falwell became vocal in national politics during my former life as a Christian at Houghton College. Even at that time I was put off by his views, although I never would have admitted it. Later, when I virtually turned my back on fundamentalist Christianity and ultimately, religion in general, I realized how repulsed I was by just about everything Falwell said.

Since I've returned to evangelical Christianity, I've become much more tolerant of fundamentalist views, although I don't embrace them. One might think that I would have become equally tolerant of Jerry Falwell.

Now, after his death, I'm realizing I did not become more tolerant of him, but he did not make me any angrier either. He bravely said some mighty stupid things, but I recognize that he has played an important role. He got people thinking and talking. I still don't respect him and I don't like the polarization he helped to create. But in his own way, he brought God's word to millions of people.

No, I don't respect him; in fact, I feel a bit sorry for him, don't ask me why. I guess I feel sorry for people who live in small boxes, and his seemed pretty small. However, I am grateful to him for making me consider my own beliefs more carefully.

The Sabbath (again)

I've been doing a lot of thinking about how I observe the Sabbath, and how I can better observe it. No big answers yet about the latter. On a usual weekend, my Sabbath starts between 3:30 and 4:00 Saturday afternoon. I start getting ready for church and attend the 5:00 service. That part is great. I like going then, it's a good atmosphere, and the singing and preaching are fulfilling.

Unfortunately a letdown follows the service. I realize for the umpteenth time that I'm at loose ends on a Saturday night, which to me has always been a time to have fun and/or relax. These days I just feel achingly grindingly lonely. From time to time, I do go out to dinner with friends, which is fine but exhausting. My best Saturday nights were spent with my significant other going out for dinner and maybe a movie or a concert, or going home to watch a video, play games, or just relax. But my significant other is gone and I'm not even looking to replace him.

So then I may go home and cook, which is work (at least the cleaning up part) or I tear my hair out deciding where I can go out to eat alone that doesn't feel uncomfortable. Inevitably I drink too much to numb out and then watch a movie or stupid TV because I'm too tired to do anything else. If not for that, Sunday morning would be fine since I usually hike then, a nice long hike in a beautiful place. But the effects of the previous evening usually make me feel sluggish and not too good about myself. After the hike I come home and get ready for the week so Sabbath is pretty much over at that point.

I don't think this is what God intends for the Sabbath. It's supposed to be a time of rejuvenation. I honestly don't know how to make that happen. I've prayed about it, but God is making me wait for the answer. Meanwhile, another Saturday night approaches.

Thoughts on Volunteering

This weekend was my church's Compassion Weekend, when we have the opportunity to go out and work on one or more volunteer projects in the community. It's a great program, encouraging us as Christians to serve in our community. I was very much looking forward to the experience. I signed up to volunteer in a resident home for senior citizens. I was sure the experience would be just wonderful for both me and the seniors. I was all ready to sign up for it on an ongoing basis, so convinced was I that this was what God wanted me to do.

Then reality intruded.

It didn't happen until after the activity leader gave his intro and told us what we would be doing. It sounded great to me - a short service with the seniors followed by visiting time. The leader said we would pair up with a resident and would probably feel drawn toward one of them, a sort God-made match-up. Cool, I thought.

As soon as we filed into the community room where the seniors were waiting for the service to start, I intuited it was not going to happen that way for me. For one thing, there were way more volunteers than residents, and about a third of us were without a senior. This was fine for the service, but afterwards was very awkward. Volunteers with a senior didn't seem to want to share. After a few moments, more seniors were brought in and the numbers began to even out. When I started approaching seniors without volunteers, I soon realized they had been left, that is, volunteers had been with them already and moved on for one reason or another. Some couldn't communicate or were out of it. Others couldn't speak English.

The remainder of the time was extremely awkward for me and generated a lot of negative thoughts on my part, which I'm still processing. I found myself wallowing in much self-doubt, feeling like the introverted social misfit that I was labeled as a child. Perhaps as a defense mechanism, or just in an effort to look at the situation honestly and stop berating myself, I took a long hard look around me.

Most of the volunteers were women - no big surprise there. I watched their behavior and I realized 1)that's not me and 2) I don't want that to be me. I'm not putting them down - they were very caring and nuturing. But some were treating the seniors like children, and others seemed overly familiar with them (they were all strangers to us). As they hovered around trying to give all the nurturing they could, all I could think of was: If I were one of those seniors, I would feel overwhelmed. And probably not with gratefulness. Gosh, I was overwhemed myself. It seemed like a competition for their attention.

The more I consider this situation, the more wrong it seems to me. And it was going to repeat three more times during the weekend in that same place. Many of those seniors were exhausted come lunch time.

I am cynical, I know. But I must be honest. It seemed to me that we were doing this more for ourselves than anyone else. So we could participate, so we could feel good about ourselves, so we could serve God. To be fair, I do believe I'm projecting a lot of my negative feelings onto my fellow participants. I also believe people were helped and God was served this weekend.

Near the end, a resident came in whom I spoke with for quite some time. By that time, many of the volunteers had already left, so I conversed with this woman uninterrupted. She seemed to enjoy the conversation and so did I.

I am first and foremost a one-on-one person. I enjoy relationship building. I like getting to know people - everyone has a story, most want to tell it, and I want to hear it. I don't deal well with groups; I get lost and confused and ultimately exhausted. I supposed that this activity would fit my strengths better, and perhaps on an ongoing basis, without a large group of other volunteers, it would.

Upon further reflection, I found myself thinking about the two times this week I've volunteered to help someone with their English. One is a woman I met at the senior home, oddly enough another volunteer. The other is man I know through a professional organization. I don't know why I offered to do this for them; I just found myself offering to help when they expressed a need. Is this still the Lord's work? I do think He led me to offer my help. I have a strong interest in communication, am fascinated by language, and am intrigued by other cultures. The thought of helping these people grow by improving their communication skills appeals to me because they need it, and I believe I can help. We will see where this goes.

I have learned much about volunteering this week. Not what I thought I would, but good lessons all the same. Isn't that often how God works?

Remember the Sabbath

After he created the world, God rested for a bit. Jesus made time for rest; his ministry was draining, and he needed time to pray and commune with the Father to regain his strength. Observing the Sabbath is a commandment, the fourth one, I think. In Jesus' time, there were certain Jews who made observing it onerous - one really couldn't do much of anything that could possibly be construed as work without being punished by the authorities.

Now it seems we have little or no Sabbath at all. The Protestant work ethic takes over; we work our fingers to the bone for God, our loved ones, and our fellow humans and wonder why we are so dang tired.

I definitely struggle with this problem. A whole day off? How could I possibly manage that? Yeah, from work, but what about my chores and other commitments? And what does it mean anyway? "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work..." (Exodus 20: 8-10) Seems clear enough. But how is work defined? What if I love my job? Or what if everything seems like work? Or are we supposed to be in church all day? After a couple of weeks of that, I would definitely not look forward to the next Sabbath. Don't get me wrong - I enjoy attending church and find it revitalizing. But only for an hour or two.

Perhaps I hit the nail on the head in that last line. Worship, prayer, meditation, rest, recreation - all revitalizing activities that are appropriate for the Sabbath. Things that get me away from the constant chatter in my mind about what's next; that constant push.

I've long believed, even when I wasn't a practicing Christian, that if I have my priorities straight and follow through with them to the best of my ability, then everything else will fall into place, at least as much as it can in this lfe. Actually putting that belief into practice has happened seldom in my life. It takes faith, patience, and sometimes courage to make the Sabbath time a priority.

Maybe it's not a whole day per week. (But Jews who had much harder lives than us did it, so why can't we?) Maybe it's a few hours on a Sunday or Saturday afternoon, and then every few weeks make it up with several days. Whatever. God gave us this commandment for very good reasons. We need time off regularly. Whatever becomes work needs to be put down for a time while we rest our minds and bodies.

Yesterday I attended a talk by Mark Miller of Chick-fil-A, a company that closes its offices and all its restaurants on each and every Sunday. And they're opening 75 new restaurants a month, so they're doing very well. My cynical thought when he told us this was, "OK, but what are the other six days like? Are you going nuts all the time catching up?" Now I'm thinking if that were the case, they would have softened that practice. But they haven't. It works for them.

I want to try and make observing the Sabbath work for me.

Why this Blog?

Indeed. I am driven to write, and I have many journals that I write in on an irregular basis. I already have a blog about scrapbooking and have long railed against "self-centered" blogs that focus on nothing in particular and are basically online journals. OK, so I've done an about-face. This will be a self-centered blog, make no mistake!

The difference for me between posting to this blog and writing in my journal is that it's more public. There is actually a chance that someone will read my posts, although it is a very small chance. I may give out the URL to those I trust. This all is step, albeit a small one, out of my very small and private self, and a place to voice my thoughts where someone may actually listen.