Had a conversation at work today with a watch repairman about how he thinks the world ticks, especially regarding pain and illness. He said in that in his view, God doesn't want anyone to suffer. And then we didn't have time to get much further than that.
Our chat started when I asked about his classes on worship and prayer. He facilitates a satellite course of a much larger program out of northern California. We both agreed that God is able to do anything, including miracles of instant healing or pain relief. I asked him about cases where healing doesn't occur and did he think we could assume that God heal every time we pray for this? Or could we pray for healing from mortality, if it came down to it? The watchmaker said he prefers to focus on what God can do instead of on Him not healing.
Some things I wonder: If people receive healing prayer for physical pain, what about healing prayer for emotional pain? Say, loneliness? Disappointment? Sadness? Isn't pain pain, no matter what form? I'd love to have those prayed out of my life. Are my prayers too limited for myself or for others? Or, if God can do anything, doesn't this also apply to the miracles of Him getting people through suffering instead of just out of it? Are there things God does only through suffering? I think most of us have seen something good come through suffering at times, even if we hate it. Should Jesus have prayed away His own suffering while on earth even before He went to the cross? I think if He was tempted in every way I am, He must have suffered in every way I do too.
Friday, 31 January 2014
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
Tilling
Today while I was behind a cash register a senior male customer came and said to me," Don't you wish you'd married rich so you don't have to sit there?" I answered, "Actually, I'm a volunteer." And he couldn't come up with anything else to say.
I've been working for a couple months now, twice a week, at a charity thrift store that sells furniture and other things. Was pleased to get trained for the first time in my life as a cashier. Though I'm not so great with math I'm good with money. Apparently that sufficed.
In a way I have a hard time saying "my job" or "I'm working", as if not getting paid makes this position, and me, less smart or respect-worthy or diligent. In reality I'm as reliable, hard working and professional as if I was getting paid. And for this season and some ongoing dynamics of my life I am finding huge rewards and joy in this...job...there, I said it...volunteer though it be.
As one of the first people customers see in the store I get be a receptionist too, answer all sorts of questions and enter into countless mini conversations with a great variety of characters from all over town. It's like a social smorgasbord where all the personality dishes are delivered straight to my counter. It's also a wonderful place to serve up my quick wit like a short order cook, feeding incoming masses with speedy bites of humor and lightness for the day. My brain and my heart are loving it.
To top it all off, I'm getting to know some co-workers, paid and not, some of whom are distinctly not boring. A few are even creative spirits and great partners in subtle absurdity which makes a mutual feast, albeit suitably hushed and straight-faced, out of so many store scenarios. In short, for now at least, I'm enjoying the sense of community and the experience of being enjoyed and appreciated for my personality and my, yes, work in this particular world of volunteering,
I've been working for a couple months now, twice a week, at a charity thrift store that sells furniture and other things. Was pleased to get trained for the first time in my life as a cashier. Though I'm not so great with math I'm good with money. Apparently that sufficed.
In a way I have a hard time saying "my job" or "I'm working", as if not getting paid makes this position, and me, less smart or respect-worthy or diligent. In reality I'm as reliable, hard working and professional as if I was getting paid. And for this season and some ongoing dynamics of my life I am finding huge rewards and joy in this...job...there, I said it...volunteer though it be.
As one of the first people customers see in the store I get be a receptionist too, answer all sorts of questions and enter into countless mini conversations with a great variety of characters from all over town. It's like a social smorgasbord where all the personality dishes are delivered straight to my counter. It's also a wonderful place to serve up my quick wit like a short order cook, feeding incoming masses with speedy bites of humor and lightness for the day. My brain and my heart are loving it.
To top it all off, I'm getting to know some co-workers, paid and not, some of whom are distinctly not boring. A few are even creative spirits and great partners in subtle absurdity which makes a mutual feast, albeit suitably hushed and straight-faced, out of so many store scenarios. In short, for now at least, I'm enjoying the sense of community and the experience of being enjoyed and appreciated for my personality and my, yes, work in this particular world of volunteering,
Wednesday, 4 December 2013
Grad - ually
Last weekend I took part in the graduation service for our group who survived the 27 week, twelve step program called "Freedom Sessions". Each of us had 2 minutes to give a statement about three things: 1.Why we joined Freedom Sessions 2. Our major breakthroughs or lessons learned 3. How we plan to give back after all we've received.
It was hard to muster up what I needed in order to even attend the evening. As I said to those gathered, it was like I was Jacob, wrestling with the angel of the Lord for 27 weeks on Friday nights and I was still limping. It was tricky for me to come up with a giving back commitment. The obvious one for me in the past would have been serving as a facilitator/discussion leader for the next year. Right now I'm still feeling like the wind has knocked out of me and that's the last thing I could do. I did say that I'd continue blogging about this process and creating art about it, as well as making an effort to stay in community in some form.
I wonder what people feel like who've had open heart surgery and if it's like this. I guess this has been more like an open soul procedure. There are some times now when I have a firsthand sense of what "normal" and "whole" is. Miraculous, really. Still many others, though, like this afternoon, when I'm off kilter, desperately lonely and wanting to escape it all. I guess one point of progress for me is seeing more clearly exactly what triggers this. Today it was discovering people going to a concert within their apparently blissful network of friendships and me being, still, completely outside this world that, for me, is like the ultimate candy store. Our Freedom Session workbooks would ask something like: Do I believe God cares about this? How would someone act in this situation who believed God cared about them? I now have more than my default response to choose from.
It was hard to muster up what I needed in order to even attend the evening. As I said to those gathered, it was like I was Jacob, wrestling with the angel of the Lord for 27 weeks on Friday nights and I was still limping. It was tricky for me to come up with a giving back commitment. The obvious one for me in the past would have been serving as a facilitator/discussion leader for the next year. Right now I'm still feeling like the wind has knocked out of me and that's the last thing I could do. I did say that I'd continue blogging about this process and creating art about it, as well as making an effort to stay in community in some form.
I wonder what people feel like who've had open heart surgery and if it's like this. I guess this has been more like an open soul procedure. There are some times now when I have a firsthand sense of what "normal" and "whole" is. Miraculous, really. Still many others, though, like this afternoon, when I'm off kilter, desperately lonely and wanting to escape it all. I guess one point of progress for me is seeing more clearly exactly what triggers this. Today it was discovering people going to a concert within their apparently blissful network of friendships and me being, still, completely outside this world that, for me, is like the ultimate candy store. Our Freedom Session workbooks would ask something like: Do I believe God cares about this? How would someone act in this situation who believed God cared about them? I now have more than my default response to choose from.
Thursday, 21 November 2013
Gold from Straw
This morning I grabbed a quick bite of Scripture as I rushed out the door. Judges 6:13 - 17 on the fly and not expecting much, I admit. There's Gideon saying to God, "If You're for us, then why do we have so much trouble? Where are Your miracles we grew up hearing about? Looks to me like You've abandoned us."
Hmmmm... Honest. Direct. And, umm.. relate-able at times. God doesn't even bother to respond to any of Gideon's speech for some reason. Just gets straight to the assignment. "Go with the strength (or resources) you have and save Israel from the Midianites. I'm sending you out."
Gideon asks what he's supposed to save Israel with since he's weak and insignificant. God says,"I'll be with you. " And He tells Gideon he will destroy the Midianites, who were powerful and myriad, as if they are really just like one of him.
I often wish God would explain Himself to me. He usually doesn't. But He gives me assignments for the day. And helps me in spite of huge odds. Today my assignment was finishing a giant painting for church. A peaceful rowboat pointed out toward sea. I was more aware than ever of my lack of art training and struggles with the basics of perspective. It felt like God was asking me to spin gold out of straw. I'm literally painting on my knees, asking God for what to do next. And somehow the picture became a living, breathing thing.
Hmmmm... Honest. Direct. And, umm.. relate-able at times. God doesn't even bother to respond to any of Gideon's speech for some reason. Just gets straight to the assignment. "Go with the strength (or resources) you have and save Israel from the Midianites. I'm sending you out."
Gideon asks what he's supposed to save Israel with since he's weak and insignificant. God says,"I'll be with you. " And He tells Gideon he will destroy the Midianites, who were powerful and myriad, as if they are really just like one of him.
I often wish God would explain Himself to me. He usually doesn't. But He gives me assignments for the day. And helps me in spite of huge odds. Today my assignment was finishing a giant painting for church. A peaceful rowboat pointed out toward sea. I was more aware than ever of my lack of art training and struggles with the basics of perspective. It felt like God was asking me to spin gold out of straw. I'm literally painting on my knees, asking God for what to do next. And somehow the picture became a living, breathing thing.
Monday, 18 November 2013
Pity
This morning I've caught myself in blatant self-pity. Why do I have to keep going through desolate places where again it's me pleading with God to let me know He's with me? Why do I have to regularly return to being alone with my inspirations, gifts and interests? Why do I have deal with almost daily temptations to despair over the inevitability of the few kindred spirits leaving my sphere?
The logic side of me stands back, at least in this moment, and says,"What do you expect in life training? Do athletes sit around on comfy sofas all day?"
I would like to believe that there is good plan for my life in all this rigor I'm being paced through. I have such a hard time being alone, both literally and soulishly, but there has to be a way to triumph in it. I wonder if this is the only way I would really seek God with my whole being? If so, I wonder how I'll survive. I would so much like to know that all this is producing something worthwhile. Something beautiful. Something hopeful and of true strength.
The logic side of me stands back, at least in this moment, and says,"What do you expect in life training? Do athletes sit around on comfy sofas all day?"
I would like to believe that there is good plan for my life in all this rigor I'm being paced through. I have such a hard time being alone, both literally and soulishly, but there has to be a way to triumph in it. I wonder if this is the only way I would really seek God with my whole being? If so, I wonder how I'll survive. I would so much like to know that all this is producing something worthwhile. Something beautiful. Something hopeful and of true strength.
Saturday, 9 November 2013
Wait
When I was in Bible School, the word "wait" came up so often in lectures that it became our year's theme. At the end of school, several of us formed the word on the lawn and were "aerial" photographed from a tower. A long lost picture, unfortunately. Hence, my alphabet noodle art.
I tend to wait impatiently or dismally. Especially when it's indefinite. I'm often tempted to mope about what is unresolved. I squander the moment I'm in. Sometimes I leap ahead and take charge where I shouldn't and have to make apologies. It's too easy for me to take initiative in general but there are times when it's just plain wrong. Mostly, actually, just too hasty.
Been thinking about initiative taker Achan in Joshua 7. He saw what he wanted, was able to take it and did. But the timing was wrong. He'd been warned. Given boundaries that he ignored. He and his whole family died for it. Just one chapter and one city later, God gives the Israelites permission, carte blanche, if you will, to take whatever plunder they want. Things go better with sticking to God's timing. Sometimes, though not always, the waiting is much shorter or less costly than we expect.
Monday, 28 October 2013
Mine the Day
I feel like I've been in the twilight zone the past while. Several long days with my mother in hospital and evenings and nights alone in my parents' big house that creaks as the temperature changes. My dad returns from an overseas trip at the end of this week. Meanwhile, I'm thankful for siblings and others who support me, the local supporter, by email, phone and prayer. This evening I hope to return to the house with my mother gingerly in tow. It's just the beginning of this health "adventure"for her.
Been thinking of "mining the day" for several weeks now. Different from seizing it I think. I'm looking for "allusions" for one thing. Physical references to less tangible truths and preferably uplifting ones. I'm also hunting for beauty. And, of course and always, humor.
I'm surveying my findings so far. Driving to the hospital yesterday I passed a small community garden with a big sign saying "The Hug Farm". Made me smile. A song on the radio played a tune with something about "you're not wandering alone". Reminded me of a desolate time living alone in a city when the very moment I thought "no one knows I'm here" a person I'd met in another country suddenly drove by and said hello. As for beauty, I defy seasonal cliche' and say I'm nearly floored by the burning intensity of the fall oranges mixed with deep purple, or burgundy and green sharing two sides of leaves like taffeta. These are colors that paint can't mix. Colors plugged into a power source.
As for humor, yes, finding some of that too. A bumper sticker yesterday said "Save a life, spay or neuter." Ok...so saving which life? The life or litter you're preventing? Even mildly illogical statements amuse me. Also entertained by the 3.5 stars of 5 rating hospital which is certainly that because of the meal delivery. Two days ago, my mom's "lunch" came at 3 pm, which was after my several requests. But dinner/supper was early. 4:30 pm, actually. The exact same meal. Almost brilliantly terrible service. I'm glad my mother has a good sense of humor. We'll all need it in days and months to come.
Been thinking of "mining the day" for several weeks now. Different from seizing it I think. I'm looking for "allusions" for one thing. Physical references to less tangible truths and preferably uplifting ones. I'm also hunting for beauty. And, of course and always, humor.
I'm surveying my findings so far. Driving to the hospital yesterday I passed a small community garden with a big sign saying "The Hug Farm". Made me smile. A song on the radio played a tune with something about "you're not wandering alone". Reminded me of a desolate time living alone in a city when the very moment I thought "no one knows I'm here" a person I'd met in another country suddenly drove by and said hello. As for beauty, I defy seasonal cliche' and say I'm nearly floored by the burning intensity of the fall oranges mixed with deep purple, or burgundy and green sharing two sides of leaves like taffeta. These are colors that paint can't mix. Colors plugged into a power source.
As for humor, yes, finding some of that too. A bumper sticker yesterday said "Save a life, spay or neuter." Ok...so saving which life? The life or litter you're preventing? Even mildly illogical statements amuse me. Also entertained by the 3.5 stars of 5 rating hospital which is certainly that because of the meal delivery. Two days ago, my mom's "lunch" came at 3 pm, which was after my several requests. But dinner/supper was early. 4:30 pm, actually. The exact same meal. Almost brilliantly terrible service. I'm glad my mother has a good sense of humor. We'll all need it in days and months to come.
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