wordhabit

Lost

2012-10-07T16:36:00.001-04:00

It's how I feel. I feel compelled to talk to my friend's mom who just lost her husband and my own blood family and yet I don't know what I'd say and I feel as though I should know. After all, I'm a pastor, right? I have words. I'm supposed to have words.

But really, I don't feel pastoral. I don't even feel communicative half the time. I run around in my head, often long enough to spit out a few clear ideas onto paper--reports, updates, half-baked sermons.

I miss being found. I miss the monotony of student life, the knowing that my seat is third row, right side, fourth in and book reviews are due every first Tuesday.

Death has me afraid of what's to come, afraid that I didn't have the conversation I should have had. Today is late. Time is over. Quick, rustle up all the memories. Pull together enough to keep the past alive, to keep it well.

And then pray. Pray that no one will question your tears and say rubbish like, "Oh, so you weren't very close" as if closeness determines level of impact. As if teachers must be BFFs in order for their death to crack your heart.

Each time someone dies, death gets closer and my eyes leak and my head hurts and I wonder why I still have such a strong reaction...as if one day people will cease to matter.

Dr. Warren, thank you...

2012-10-05T10:05:00.002-04:00

Yes, you wanted us to learn the importance of "The House on Mango Street" and the themes of Richard Wright but it mattered even more that we included a few sentences of appreciation to anyone who'd helped us complete our papers. Saying thank you to my friend in Lamson Hall Room 234 for letting me use her printer didn't seem necessary. But neither did wearing a pin that said you loved your wife. I had a lot to learn.

You taught me commitment. You taught me that people should know when you're spoken for. You taught me that people need to know you love them. I'll never forget you telling our English class that you weren't going to lose weight. If you did, other women would be attracted to you and you didn't want that. I can hear your deep chuckle and see your head tilt back as you tugged on your trouser waist band and watched our confusion. Does he really mean that? We definitely took part in a moment of awkward laughter. After such declarative statements (and there were several), you either did the chuckle-tilt-tug combo or gave the look that said, "You think I'm crazy, and maybe I am, but listen up."

And I listened.

The twinkle in your eyes let me know you were real. You were crazy but you were real. Like the other times when you'd begin class with a song, your index fingers pointed out as you conducted the cadence. Sometimes I wanted to sing with you but was too shy, much too shy to do what my peers weren't doing. (I wish I could be your student now, confidently frequent your office hours and ask you all the questions running through my head.) In those crazy moments I was sort of embarrassed as if you were my dad--perhaps being in jr. high and high school with your children gave me that feeling of pseudo ownership. Dad, please stop singing. Puhleeaase. Yet I also felt comfortable, realizing that these moments were you and you were wonderful.

You'd pray. You'd pray for your family, you'd pray for us. You were most interested in our walk with Jesus--that was clear. Wherever I saw you, wherever I heard you speak, whenever I heard someone else talk about you, I knew you were a man who loved Jesus. It was so strong that I sometimes wondered why you had a PhD in English. I soon learned that you had something more. You had the assurance of life eternal and couldn't help but share it.

Thank you.

This reflective paper was made possible because my undergrad English Lit professor showed me
Jesus in black stretched out loafers, dark trousers, suspenders, and an "I Love Cyndy" pin placed
close to his heart.

family.

2012-08-30T12:59:00.000-04:00

it's not often you get to watch a funeral at 4am on your laptop and it's not often that you want to. and when it's over, you're not sure if you should say you're glad you got to or that you're grateful. you certainly shouldn't say you loved every minute, not out loud anyway.

well, i got up at 3:45am because i wanted to watch my Uncle Greg's funeral and i'm glad, i'm grateful, and i loved most every minute. it allowed me to be there, to journey with my family--even those i really don't know well at all. there's a gift that comes with being present and i got to be present today in a very unconventional manner. is it strange that i'm watching the replay, too?

i took snapshots of some of my favourite moments, like when my cousin, Simon, got up to read a passage from Revelation. there were good brother moments when one began to cry and was comforted by another. and then my cousin, my uncle's daughter, Lakeshia. i'm imagining that she didn't want to read what she'd wrote--perhaps afraid she'd cry--and she asked my mum to read it for her. she may have said, "Auntie Pam, you go ahead," to which my mum would have certainly replied, "only if you come with me." it was tough to hear the tears, to not be able to offer a hug.

one lovely moment was when Uncle Norman got up and called Lakeshia to the platform. it was a "you will come here" call and what followed confirmed not control but love, his commitment to his brother's flesh and blood.

perhaps the heaviest moment was seeing my grandmother walk up to my mum as she stood at the coffin, looking at her youngest brother one last time. the two Lammy matriarchs, you could say. the elder still being a mother, the younger, still being a big sister. neither anywhere close to being able to ever shirk duty, experiencing the first loss of a child and sibling.

the video feed kept running for quite a while after the service was through. i got to see uncles, grand uncles, aunties, grand aunties, cousins, 2nd cousins, the whole tribe...hugging, holding. mums being mums, uncles being uncles...duty still calls and with my family, duty is wrapped up in love, shrink wrapped perhaps. it's not going anywhere. like it or not, they're sticking with you and they'll do all they can to have you stick with them. i'd have it no other way.

knitpicks and other unnecessary connections

2012-06-04T22:02:00.000-04:00

i need to let go. my inboxes are evidence of that...as is, perhaps, the reality that i have more than one inbox...3, in fact.

i don't knit often. maybe once a year. and when i do, i don't use a pattern and i use yarn that i already have on hand (of which there's plenty). so no, i don't need to get emails from knitpicks.com. so why won't i unsubscribe?

because i dream of the day when i patiently learn from a pattern and move beyond knit/purl scarves to more intricate neck warmers and hats and gloves and sweaters. how cool would it be to knit a sweater!

but is a listserve subscription going to yield actual dream fulfillment? i think not.

makes me wonder what more meaningful things i'm holding on to unnecessarily. i don't even want to wonder long.

from Knitpicks.com

temptations

2012-01-01T20:40:00.001-05:00

Cinnamon Sugar Pull-Apart Bread, a photo by tlboyd05 on Flickr.

Celebrate

2011-10-07T12:50:00.001-04:00

I'm supposed to take some time each Friday and celebrate my accomplishments, or should I say, the things that I've seen happen that I'm glad have happened this week.

So here goes:

I should first say that this is a hard exercise when I have a huge list I want to get through by 3pm...So maybe I should reschedule this exercise for 2pm.

Okay. Done

morning glory

2010-12-05T09:03:00.001-05:00

it's not yet 9am
i'm wide awake
thankful
happy
glad to know that stretched before me
many hours to complicate

it's not yet 9am
i'm satisfied
trusting
hopeful
glad to know that God has blessed me
peace to share with those who cry

thoughts on communion

2010-11-10T14:58:00.002-05:00

at the invitation of a friend, i had communion (outside of my denomination for the first time) this week. it was new. no foot washing. just bread and wine. i read the prayers. i ate. didn't dip (coz i don't do alcohol).

i never like taking communion without first knowing about it ahead of time. communion, to me, is a very serious journey, one that needs prior moments of reflection to clear one's head and get one's heart on the right track. am i worried sick about a bad interaction? do i have some unconfessed sin? have i talked to God lately? these are the sorts of questions i ask myself and aim to feel at peace about before taking the bread and drinking the cup (when it's grape juice).

that said, this monday's experience was very different from my norm. and i'm not quite sure what to do with it or whether to repeat it. i could go every monday. my norm is 4x a year and includes foot washing. i value the washing, the singing (at a traditional adventist church) of hymns while we wash, the praying together of husband and wife or children-parents or friends, the hand wipes some churches give out as you return to your seats for the emblems, the formal serving by deacons. Or. the more contemporary agape feast, the french bread we each grab a chunk of, the larger cup of grape juice that doesn't leave you parched, the grapes and other fruits that make up the pre-communion meal. and the singing.

but so what? is all that necessary? and how do we define necessity within this context of remembering Christ, his life-death-resurrection? what adds or subtracts from the celebration of his sacrifice of love and whether or not i'll be able to recall it sufficiently and positively impact other's lives as a result for the sake of the gospel? admittedly, the routine i'm used to could be perceived as mere tradition. why wash feet when they're not even dirty? why use grape juice instead of wine when the Bible doesn't give a clear enough distinction between the two...you're being legalistic! and why add on the singing or anything else that makes it a much longer service than need be? cut the time and you could comfortably do it more regularly like everyone else...

regularity. i think that's the kicker in my head. the longer process is really beautiful to me and i don't want to do it every week; i want to savor it.

but who am i and why do something just because i like it? what about the community? good question! that's another part of the equation--everyone else. the mass exodus from the sanctuary to the smaller rooms in which we wash feet, sing and pray. talking to others along the way, some of whom you haven't seen all week and may not have seen during a regular service. there's the feisty elderly woman who gives everyone mints, just because. and the young couple with their 3 children--there's nothing quite like watching a teenage boy wash his mother's feet. it's a communal journey. and once everyone has been served and has chewed and swallowed, we form a large circle around the church, take the hand of our neighbors and sing "bless be the tie that binds." we're in this together. we're remembering Christ together.

and then we leave with cleaner feet and the peace of God in our eyes, dropping money in an offering plate at the door to help others in need. Others...b/c we're all on that level with Christ as our ultimate provider.

this is communion, too.

having to think

2010-10-06T15:08:00.000-04:00

There once was a time when I just did ministry. Just did it. No deep queries into minds and patterns. No reading up on the experts' opinions. Just action. Pure action. So what changed?

Those I serve are no longer peers in terms of expectation and experience.

Expectations will kick you, kick you hard, all over. And un-shared experiences? They create distance. The solution seems simple: hang out! Time spent will create shared experiences so that in spite of differing expectations, you'll at least have a trust relationship. And once you know each other better, you'll see a little more eye to eye.

Voila! Bingo!

But you'll still have to think coz it won't happen overnight. (And current expectations and distance will continue to get in the way.) And perhaps this is what folks were trying to tell me a year ago. I just wish I'd been able to get it a year ago and that they'd been able to say it like this.

And there I go with my crazy expectations...

http://shsuonline.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/expectations.jpg

lessons from email

2010-09-29T15:08:00.006-04:00

Another online account. Another password. Another moment to decide whether or not to use the same 6-8 letters/symbols/numbers that my other 30 online accounts hold, even the Hotmail that I would delete if I were brave enough. I'm not even sure when I created that account. It's so last decade, before I learned that email accounts shouldn't be treated like underwear but more like a GenX teenage romance--pick one; go steady. And eventually you break up. It's fine because it wasn't meant to be more than summer love anyway. It's a miracle you made it through 2 semesters, choir tour and the talent show. Your duet was stunning, or at least as good as it gets for a sophomore. By graduation, you talk every now and then. Cordial. No Friday-sweatpants-wearing, cool-girl drama. But you haven't tossed out his notes.

And I haven't sifted through all my account options to figure out where that "deactivate account" button lies. Experience confirms that the chances of essential email dropping into that inbox are ridiculously slim. Hotmail, like AOL, makes savvy potential employers shake their heads. "Who does this?"

I do. I'm a horder. But certainly not as bad as the messy house people who show up on reality TV. I hold on to bigger things. Ideas. Ridiculous ones. Like surely I'll fall deeply in love with my job every day, surely the average citizen will say smart political things all the time, and of course Hotmail is worth keeping.

Miracle, where art thou?

The best item in my collection, though? You ready for this? It's the notion that people will be good even on their worst days. I know. Completely unrealistic. Utterly idealistic. Downright ridiculous. I mean, who am I to suppose that even on Mondays, after 1 cup of leisurely bliss, 2 oz of religious patronage and a dash of road rage the worst of us would give the world a wink and a smile? But I do. And Monday after Monday proves disappointing. If you've ever looked for the "keep hope alive" poster child, look no more. She lives in my head and expects you to come inside, make yourself at home. It's cozy here just inside the front door that thinks too hard and is probably to blame for massive stress levels. Reason can take a hike.

Bear with me another 20 seconds. It's not easy to convince others of my 30-year delusion. After all, I also still have yahoo.

tears & love

2010-09-27T15:14:00.002-04:00

i have the best husband. (okay, yours may be great too...)

yesterday was a rough one, one that brought to the surface a load of my frustrations and i overflowed. he was there. holding me. reassuring me. and then he said, "can i pray for you?"

and this is love...

sunsets are good for your health

2010-09-13T22:07:00.000-04:00

very rarely do i leave work bright eyed and bushy tailed. today was no exception. and with so much time spent in my head (from just a few minutes after waking up), processing questions and frustrations, thinking through possibly needed rebuttals, and all other manner of madness that i've done for so much of my life, by the time i drive home, my mind's about to explode. it's great.

well today was exceptional in a very unexpected way, a very God kind of way. as i drove west on I-40, i spotted the last few minutes of sunset. now i've seen the sun set a lot and i've marveled at the sunset a lot but today was exceptional. i had the sort of experience that makes Romans 1:20 so real.

as soon as i noticed the sunset, God said to me, "Okay, you see that sunset? You need to let the sun set on all your frustrations, all your fatigue, all your anger, all your unresolved interpersonal drama, etc." and just like that, i had peace AND a smile. talk about radical change! that's something only God can do.

and just as i crossed the light at the last major intersection before home, God said, "You've only got a few more moments of sunset so let it all go!" and i packed up the remaining junk and threw it out the window. it's the sort of liter cities welcome--if more people did it, there'd be fewer accidents, i promise you!

something beautiful

2010-05-19T23:18:00.002-04:00

i've come to really enjoy this song by need to breathe. and now, as i make my way to slumberville, i'm remembering the beauty i've recently experienced:

girlfriend time
a reminder that my man knows me well
leaving work before it's pitch black outside
inspiration
God's unconditional love as evidenced by all of the above and more...

i want to be angry

2010-04-20T00:36:00.000-04:00

and i am.

there's a lot of crap in the world. there has been for a long time. just so happens that right now a lot of it's in my face and i don't want to deal with it. well, maybe parts but not all.

folks, stop dying.

thank you.

i don't care how you get here...just get here!

2010-04-02T12:16:00.002-04:00

frustrated by time ill spent, i finally opened up the Bible for my daily reading time. i'm at Matthew 20--parable of the vineyard workers.

i've always only focused on the idea of fairness/unfairness regarding how the vineyard owner paid his workers. today i read it differently and i hope to always remember this reading.

Jesus (the vineyard owner) doesn't care when/how i get to heaven (how much i get paid); he just wants me to get there (get paid). and heaven (the pay) is the same for everyone. whether you started walking with him (working in the vineyard) at age 8 or 98 (at 10am or 5pm) heaven is the same (equal pay for unequal work coz obviously it's not about your work!).

"just get here," Jesus is saying. "i don't care how you get here...just get here"

and with my new-found desire to live in the present, the journey with God begins now all the time. doesn't matter that i was baptized at 14. the journey begins now...every second it begins now.

i haven't taken the time to polish up my reading of Matthew 20. that'll happen down the way. so if you find some weakness in my reading, pls forgive me. this is where i am right now. perhaps later on i'll have something considered more profound. : )

till then,

YSITB
(your sister in the battle)

the strength of focus

2010-03-13T15:59:00.000-05:00

i'm quite amazed at how focused attention overrides chills and other flu symptoms. if i make up my mind to do something, i'm okay--not perfect, but okay. then i just chill and literally chill as fatigued muscles call out for rest.

i will obey though still quite amazed.

yes!

2010-02-22T23:13:00.000-05:00

my fiance makes my day, every day. just thinking about him. or reading his post. or seeing his pic on my bookshelf, etc, etc, etc... he honestly makes my day.

and yes, we sometimes get on each others nerves and yes, we'll probably have to unfortunate moments post the "i do's"; nevertheless, he'll still make my day. and i'm really determined to make his.

i love you justin jeffery.

i do!

(and i can't believe this is my first time posting for 2010. shame!)

treasure

2009-12-27T10:54:00.002-05:00

these days i read my Bible without the guilt of "thou shalt read your Bible" that i grew up nurturing and with the true desire to read b/c i know it's essential. i'm finally in Matthew, unable to complete a chapter each day b/c there's so much goodness in a section. take Matthew 6:19-24 for example. yeah, yeah, yeah. treasure. i shouldn't focus on money. money and evil go hand in hand. i should focus on heaven. yeah. yeah. yeah.

no.

i'm too old to take such a brash approach that's not even biblical but has become my interpretation of this passage and feeds guilt. why don't i enjoy focusing on heaven? why does this passage seem like an unattainable ideal? b/c my interpretation isn't biblical. if it were, it would be accessible and applicable.

so.

today i read it much differently. i've been spending a lot of money lately. start-up costs. and i'm basically tired now of spending but i still have basic things to buy. like a bed. and i've grown tired of thinking about quality, quantity, style, color, size, etc. i just want to finish setting up my apartment before i reach the 6th month mark.

so today, my head really got excited when i read that it's better to store up treasures in a place where there's no theft or decay. no renter's insurance needed. and everything there will be the best quality ever. but i'm not interested in the aesthetics of heaven, anyway. i'm interested in meeting God and asking many questions. i'm interested in experiencing corporate worship in heaven b/c i think it's such a vital part of our God-connection. and since heaven is a place of peace, it helps me realize that in all my shopping, earth can become even more chaotic than it already is. too many decisions. not enough time. plus i'd really like to be saving more.

conclusion? create a spreadsheet of all the things i still need to purchase. need to. not want to. price them. think about wear and tear and be sensible not cheap. think about being the minimalist i so desire to be (and currently am based on my apt's present holdings), then finish expending all this money energy. b/c what's really making the process a pain is that i'm unable to focus all my energy on the things i really treasure as the shopping list becomes a sort of treasure when i become tied to a particular item that i really don't need to purchase.

yes, this post may be a bit confusing. no worries. it's for me more than it is for you. =)

thank you God for the time to work through this and the amazing way your Word continues to be real to our lives. and the more often we read it, the more applicable it becomes. interesting. so true.

pain changes you, it's true

2009-10-18T23:06:00.003-04:00

when something rocks your world, so to speak, you never forget. some parts of you heal properly. nevertheless, various parts of you seem forever unsettled and you forever view the world through those unsettled parts.

consequently, the pain you see in others is inevitably (though often unrelated) your pain on display...an interesting phenomenon.

and if you still feel it, you know you'll never say those unfortunate words: i understand. coz no one understands yours.

and it's okay after a while. you can't expect the world to feel you--that's unfair. and you know that not everything happens for some explicable reason though God can work it out for good.

pain offers a perspective that never existed before your world got rocked.

i'm okay with that.

http://topnews.in/health/files/pain-and-depression.jpg

more...

2009-09-28T23:06:00.000-04:00

Last night I dreamed that I was at a beach with huge dunes that stood in stark contrast to a short beach area. Most people were at the shore, playing in the water. Two people I remember vividly were my younger brother and sister. Everything was fine and everyone was having a good time until I saw gigantic tsunami waves approaching. I remember being the only one to notice them, yelling at everyone to run up the dunes. As I yelled, I ran and others followed as quickly as they could. Everyone made it up the dunes before the waves hit--what a relief!

But I woke up really distressed. We were all okay but I hadn't actually helped anyone up the dunes. My brother helped my sister and others helped each other. But I was only focused on yelling and running...

I tried to go back to sleep and eventually drifted off, attempting to make sense of the dream. Why hadn't I grabbed a hand? Why was I so focused being a messenger but of no physical use though I was physically able? Was it enough that I'd warned everyone?

Was it enough?

Are you wondering if what you do for others or for God is enough? Are you concerned that you should be doing more but you're not sure what "more" looks like?

For now, I've concluded that: a) I shouldn't beat myself up just yet, and b) I should thank God for making me aware of my need to never lose sight of "more."

wonder (as opposed to wander)

2009-09-17T09:36:00.002-04:00

God.

some say the name out of frustration. i say the name out of wonder. i'm anxious for something to be resolved and long before it's resolved i've received the peace that passes all understanding. God-peace. and i'm transported to wonder.

how? why? and who am i? (psalm 8)

God. i just want to say i love you Lord. and thank you. you've got things under control. i'm confident in this. (isaiah 41:10)

the new way to take inches off your thighs

2009-08-31T12:51:00.003-04:00

just ride 115 kilometers with minimal rest stops. trust me. i'm pretty sure i lost inches. the scale says i only lost a couple of pounds but the mirror says, "you weren't this skinny before!"

i'm just sayin...

why i ride

2009-08-25T12:16:00.000-04:00

it's not for the wind through my hair or the unexpected gravel through my gears. it's for the time alone, the outdoor perspective...the knowledge that i can.

about 7 years ago i thought about buying a road bike. i was living in chicago and an add for the annual midnight ride caught my attention. a fellow city dweller encouraged my desire to ride and i kept on saying, "i'm going to get a bike." it became a promise. "i will get a bike." i even went to a bike store, but alas, i moved away bikeless.

my reasons for not committing were varied. money was often limited but then unexpected left eye blindness struck. it sort of sealed the no deal, voided the check, etc. after all, riding through a city with limited depth perception didn't seem like a bright idea. but the joy of riding remained in my psyche.

i've enjoyed riding ever since i was a little girl. in the early years my older sister and i would ride as our parents followed on foot, stroll-paced. then in jr high i got a purple mountain bike from Kmart or Meijer. it got me oriented to my new surroundings. i'd escape to the local cemetery or just cruise around the neighborhood. riding has been a source of peace.

so sight or no sight, my adult years couldn't escape the good memories of me, a bike, and the open road. once i recognized my fear i determined to get over it. and two years ago i bought "30."

yes, my bike's name is 30. s/he is a black trek 7.3fx (whatever that equation means). buying 30 didn't cancel my fear, it simply smacked it. cruising to and from work or school is no big deal. it's the actual cardio workout sort of ride that make me nervous, the stuff that involves car traffic and random bugs hitting the back of my throat without warning. i still fight my thoughts each morning, wanting to ride but hoping for torrential rain.

solution? well, in addition to positive self-talk, i've found it helpful to find a challenge or cause. by riding for United Way i get a challenging cause. fabulous!

wish me well. add some dollars to the fund if you can. and no matter what, don't worry...one-eyed riding is quite fashionable these days. but really though, don't wait too long to ride a bike or whatever your equivalent may be.

.m.

http://ride4unitedway.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=303905&lis=1&kntae303905=ADD6BC41F78A410A80BAEC9C78C731B7&supId=267573850

i'm riding 88K next sunday...sponsor me!

2009-08-22T21:28:00.000-04:00

click here

the first line

2009-08-21T12:31:00.002-04:00

during today's morning walk, my mind happened upon a line, a really good line, a line i wrote down once i got back home so that i can one day complete the story.

i often wonder what would happen if i intentionally wrote each morning...