I was watching a movie the other night called "Long Life, Happiness and Prosperity". It was about a girl who is desperately trying to set up her single mom with a husband. She tries all sorts of Chinese magic tricks from her book, and things do happen (some might call it magic, I call it God). What struck me the most about the story was the deep faith of that little girl. Despite resistance from her mom, friends and neighbors, she persevered in her goal. And you know what? Her faith was enough to make the universe spin.
It was a good reminder that sometimes I am too focused on getting others in step with me when I want to see a big change. If only you did the following three things, well then you'll be happier. And the more I focus on what they need to do, or how I could change them, the less I focus on me and what I can do.
And I've realized that my faith alone is enough to make the change I need. It may not be the change I seek, but when I ask God change will come, of that I am certain. Like the girl in the movie, I can have enough hope and prayers and joy for all of us.
I know that my faith is enough to move mountains in my universe, but it's always nice to have a good word along the way. This week I got to spend some time with my new friend Zohary and she confessed that when she did a survey one of his spiritual gifts was "encouragement". It was so appropriate for her - in little ways that she may not even realize she has encouraged me to be a more giving spouse, a budding writer, and someone to be accountable to for my goals.
So tonight God I pray that I continue to know that my faith is enough to bring joy and peace to myself and our family. I also pray that I can be the one to encourage another, in ways both large and small. It only takes one.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Inaction
A few weeks ago, I posted on a friend's blog that this was my goal for the next three months: "I want to remake our home into a calm place of refuge that is both
filled with joy and relaxation - a place to sink into at the end of the
day and a place to celebrate during the day."
Since then I've hired a babysitter a couple of days a week and have a) started networking to find my next job b) updated my resume and linkedin profile c) made some calls that were overdue and d) generally checked a bunch of things off my list.
I have done absolutely nothing on the home project.
Last week I decided maybe I could bypass the whole issue by aha! moving to a new house. I thought this was brilliant idea of course, and immediately spent too many hours on zillow and other sites searching for our next great place. My husband reminded me that this was not in our plans for the immediate future. So the inaction continues.
I say that I want my hair to grow back. Yet there are also things that I know I need to do, that I have not prioritized.
Like sleep. If there's one thing that's supposed to help the immune system - it's getting those 9+ hours, particularly between 10:00 pm and midnight. And I haven't been faithfully using the rosemary oil and vinegar rinse that my accupuncturist gave me.
I'm not trying to beat myself up. But I do think it is healthy, every once in a while, to examine what I *say* I want to accomplish, and what I am actually doing. It's easy when something looms so big to never take a step at all (home project!). But I know I just need to take the first step. And then take another smaller one. And then to write those goals up on a piece of paper that I can look at every day so I can remember how I am doing.
And so now I'm going to sign off, and go to bed. :)
Since then I've hired a babysitter a couple of days a week and have a) started networking to find my next job b) updated my resume and linkedin profile c) made some calls that were overdue and d) generally checked a bunch of things off my list.
I have done absolutely nothing on the home project.
Last week I decided maybe I could bypass the whole issue by aha! moving to a new house. I thought this was brilliant idea of course, and immediately spent too many hours on zillow and other sites searching for our next great place. My husband reminded me that this was not in our plans for the immediate future. So the inaction continues.
I say that I want my hair to grow back. Yet there are also things that I know I need to do, that I have not prioritized.
Like sleep. If there's one thing that's supposed to help the immune system - it's getting those 9+ hours, particularly between 10:00 pm and midnight. And I haven't been faithfully using the rosemary oil and vinegar rinse that my accupuncturist gave me.
I'm not trying to beat myself up. But I do think it is healthy, every once in a while, to examine what I *say* I want to accomplish, and what I am actually doing. It's easy when something looms so big to never take a step at all (home project!). But I know I just need to take the first step. And then take another smaller one. And then to write those goals up on a piece of paper that I can look at every day so I can remember how I am doing.
And so now I'm going to sign off, and go to bed. :)
Thursday, June 14, 2012
The power of words
I met a new friend last night, Emily, who also has Alopecia. It was really refreshing to meet someone who knew exactly what I'd been going through, and talk a bit about our stories. She's been hairless for seven years.
We both agreed that one of the hardest things about being bald is that at least once, often multiple times a day (if we are not wearing a wig) someone will come up and ask us "So HOW are you?" or ask how long we've been in recovery. Last year a biker dude came up to Emily at a hotel and told her that he'd just lost his wife a year ago to cancer. It's hard to answer that question and acknowledge the sentiment without being too awkward. Usually I just blurt out "I don't have cancer. I have alopecia, it's an auto-immune thing." Though I don't think I would do that do the grieving biker. I might just accept his sympathy.
As we traded stories, Emily told me a story that really reminded me of the power of words, and made me really angry. She had seen the renowned expert on Alopecia in town after the sudden loss of all her hair. She was expecting a bit of medical insight, perhaps some sympathy and instead got scathing advice. "Look in the mirror," the doctor said. "I see a woman who needs botox." It's shameful that someone with her power would use her words to cut down a woman that is already feeling vulnerable.
Words don't have to be obviously biting to be hurtful. I know that I've made a comment before intending to be funny, only to realize that the joke I made to the man at church about shaving his legs was really in poor taste. It just came out! I learned a term for those words at a diversity training once - microaggressions.
The amazing thing is, we really have the power to affect people with our words. The people close to us, certainly, and even the people we run into once and have a conversation. My friend Larry regularly prays for "divine appointments" to speak with people about God and Jesus. That's way too scary for me, and it feels like I'm just surviving here instead of reaching out to others. But I am trying to be mindful that in each conversation I can leave a positive mark, or a negative one.
Maybe the next time I get the cancer question I'll say: "Thanks for asking. I have an autoimmune condition that made me lose my hair, but I don't have cancer, and I thank God every day for my health."
We both agreed that one of the hardest things about being bald is that at least once, often multiple times a day (if we are not wearing a wig) someone will come up and ask us "So HOW are you?" or ask how long we've been in recovery. Last year a biker dude came up to Emily at a hotel and told her that he'd just lost his wife a year ago to cancer. It's hard to answer that question and acknowledge the sentiment without being too awkward. Usually I just blurt out "I don't have cancer. I have alopecia, it's an auto-immune thing." Though I don't think I would do that do the grieving biker. I might just accept his sympathy.
As we traded stories, Emily told me a story that really reminded me of the power of words, and made me really angry. She had seen the renowned expert on Alopecia in town after the sudden loss of all her hair. She was expecting a bit of medical insight, perhaps some sympathy and instead got scathing advice. "Look in the mirror," the doctor said. "I see a woman who needs botox." It's shameful that someone with her power would use her words to cut down a woman that is already feeling vulnerable.
Words don't have to be obviously biting to be hurtful. I know that I've made a comment before intending to be funny, only to realize that the joke I made to the man at church about shaving his legs was really in poor taste. It just came out! I learned a term for those words at a diversity training once - microaggressions.
The amazing thing is, we really have the power to affect people with our words. The people close to us, certainly, and even the people we run into once and have a conversation. My friend Larry regularly prays for "divine appointments" to speak with people about God and Jesus. That's way too scary for me, and it feels like I'm just surviving here instead of reaching out to others. But I am trying to be mindful that in each conversation I can leave a positive mark, or a negative one.
Maybe the next time I get the cancer question I'll say: "Thanks for asking. I have an autoimmune condition that made me lose my hair, but I don't have cancer, and I thank God every day for my health."
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Integrity
As we approach father's day, I've been thinking a lot about two men in my life: my dad and my husband. Both are men who have contributed much to the world and their families - and there is one trait they share completely: integrity.
I've watched my Dad navigate many situations, and tell me about a few others, and it was clear that he always did the right thing. He never told me "this is the right thing to do" in fact, the way he saw it and presented it to me - there really was only one option. I remember before our wedding he and his wife hosted a dinner for us a couple of nights before the big day. When my Dad learned that my aunt and cousin from the other side of the family would be in town, he insisted that we invite them (and anyone else who showed up early enough to come). I was worried about budget but he insisted everyone was welcome. My Dad has always been a saver and an investor, but he has taught me that it is important to be deliberately generous with my time and my money.
My husband is also a man of deep integrity. He slogged away many years at his own company before he sold it, and there were many many years when he was ready to let go and walk away. But he stayed, and as he puts it, he didn't always do the most profitable thing for himself, but he always did the right thing for the company and his employees. He has created a culture of trust and respect between himself and his employees that is only built on his integrity.
Thank you men in my life for the care you put into doing the right thing for all those around you.
I've watched my Dad navigate many situations, and tell me about a few others, and it was clear that he always did the right thing. He never told me "this is the right thing to do" in fact, the way he saw it and presented it to me - there really was only one option. I remember before our wedding he and his wife hosted a dinner for us a couple of nights before the big day. When my Dad learned that my aunt and cousin from the other side of the family would be in town, he insisted that we invite them (and anyone else who showed up early enough to come). I was worried about budget but he insisted everyone was welcome. My Dad has always been a saver and an investor, but he has taught me that it is important to be deliberately generous with my time and my money.
My husband is also a man of deep integrity. He slogged away many years at his own company before he sold it, and there were many many years when he was ready to let go and walk away. But he stayed, and as he puts it, he didn't always do the most profitable thing for himself, but he always did the right thing for the company and his employees. He has created a culture of trust and respect between himself and his employees that is only built on his integrity.
Thank you men in my life for the care you put into doing the right thing for all those around you.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Burying our Talent
I've been thinking a lot about abundance, and money, and how much is
enough lately. I am planning to go back to work in the fall and will
balance decisions about salary, and flexibility, and time with family. Keiko posted a comment on my last post about the need for a leap of faith to believe in sufficiency, that we will have enough and that we are enough. She was inspired by a quote from the book the "Soul of Money" by Lynne Twist. "When we let go of the chase for more, and consciously examine and
experience the resources we already have, we discover our resources are
deeper than we knew or imagined. In the nourishment of our attention,
our assets expand and grow."
This quote reminded me of a story Jesus told that Pastor Terry recounted in his talk last week. The story comes from Matthew 25:14. Three servants were each given bags of silver before their master went on a long trip, each according to his abilities. One was given five bags, and he invested it and made five more. Another was given two bags, and he made two more. The one who was given one bag was afraid, and he buried the bag, and dug it up when his master returned. The master was angry and took away the one bag from the servant, and gave it to the servant with ten bags. "For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away."
What's especially interesting to me is that each bag was worth more than 15 years' wages for a laborer, and the term used was "a talent". Those bags were money enough for retirement.
God's plan for us is not to earn "enough" at a young age and then retire. Yes, save for the future, but also give freely and with an open heart. Because if I truly believe that I do not have enough to live or to give, I will never have enough. I will always need more. And that is just like burying the money and talent that I do have - in fear.
And that is the other side of the story - the abundance part. When we take what we are given - the bags of silver that are our time, and our talent, and our energy - and we invest them in ourselves and our world, God has promised that abundance will follow.
What would you do if you were given 15 years of your salary today? What have you buried, in fear that you will lose it?
This quote reminded me of a story Jesus told that Pastor Terry recounted in his talk last week. The story comes from Matthew 25:14. Three servants were each given bags of silver before their master went on a long trip, each according to his abilities. One was given five bags, and he invested it and made five more. Another was given two bags, and he made two more. The one who was given one bag was afraid, and he buried the bag, and dug it up when his master returned. The master was angry and took away the one bag from the servant, and gave it to the servant with ten bags. "For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away."
What's especially interesting to me is that each bag was worth more than 15 years' wages for a laborer, and the term used was "a talent". Those bags were money enough for retirement.
God's plan for us is not to earn "enough" at a young age and then retire. Yes, save for the future, but also give freely and with an open heart. Because if I truly believe that I do not have enough to live or to give, I will never have enough. I will always need more. And that is just like burying the money and talent that I do have - in fear.
And that is the other side of the story - the abundance part. When we take what we are given - the bags of silver that are our time, and our talent, and our energy - and we invest them in ourselves and our world, God has promised that abundance will follow.
What would you do if you were given 15 years of your salary today? What have you buried, in fear that you will lose it?
Friday, June 8, 2012
What do you take care of?
Yesterday I watched a woman meticulously wash her car. She was probably in her late 20s or early 30s, and I spent at least a half and hour watching her carefully spray down the wheels with a special foam cleanser, and rub the sides with a sudsy cloth. She still wasn't done when I was on to my next agenda item.
It made me think about all the smelly things composting in our van, which wasn't much past a year old.
And I wondered if there was anything that I took such meticulous care of in my life. I do sweep out my tent before wrapping it back up, but I hardly wash the whole thing in and out on the patio, like one of my neighbors. And our car has to get pretty bad, or the in-laws fly into town, for me to bring it to the car wash.
I think sometimes the abundance of things in my life makes me overwhelmed enough not to care for any of them. But that's just an excuse at the end of the day. Because truly, where my time and attention and energy is focused, that is a reflection of how I value the abundance in my life.
What relationships do I value in my life? And do I take the time to really dig in and focus on them, regularly and without distractions?
How do I value my time? Do I approach taking care of my health or my spiritual life with the same time and devotion as the woman washing her car?
I am thinking about how I take care of things as I continue to struggle with my hair. I hate shaving my head. It takes time, I get super grumpy every time I do it, and I always end up bleeding. It's a reminder, painfully, that I have no hair. But that's the rub: because I do have some hair left. And it's stubborn, and coarse - and I know that in the struggle of my heart, God is saying - take care of this too. What is left is important. Nurture what you have.
What thing in your life have you taken good care of? What do you want to pay more attention to?
It made me think about all the smelly things composting in our van, which wasn't much past a year old.
And I wondered if there was anything that I took such meticulous care of in my life. I do sweep out my tent before wrapping it back up, but I hardly wash the whole thing in and out on the patio, like one of my neighbors. And our car has to get pretty bad, or the in-laws fly into town, for me to bring it to the car wash.
I think sometimes the abundance of things in my life makes me overwhelmed enough not to care for any of them. But that's just an excuse at the end of the day. Because truly, where my time and attention and energy is focused, that is a reflection of how I value the abundance in my life.
What relationships do I value in my life? And do I take the time to really dig in and focus on them, regularly and without distractions?
How do I value my time? Do I approach taking care of my health or my spiritual life with the same time and devotion as the woman washing her car?
I am thinking about how I take care of things as I continue to struggle with my hair. I hate shaving my head. It takes time, I get super grumpy every time I do it, and I always end up bleeding. It's a reminder, painfully, that I have no hair. But that's the rub: because I do have some hair left. And it's stubborn, and coarse - and I know that in the struggle of my heart, God is saying - take care of this too. What is left is important. Nurture what you have.
What thing in your life have you taken good care of? What do you want to pay more attention to?
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Second Chances
A couple of nights ago, I started making what I thought was an apology about something to my husband, he got defensive, and I ended up yelling things at him through the closed bathroom door - that is before I stopped myself, realizing that I would only regret anything I said, and what good could come of that?
After I took a while to calm down, I made another attempt. I told my husband that my intention really had been to apologize, and that it obviously didn't come across that way since he reacted so defensively. So we slowly started the conversation again. And I think that it became one of the most sincere and intense conversations we've had in a really long time.
For me, the story of Jesus is all about second chances (and third, and tenth...). It is God's promise to me that I am neither a "good" person nor a "bad" one, but that I will have moments of each, and I get another chance to be better. Earlier last year, I remember getting in a cycle where I would do something I regretted (like throw Ben into his room on a pile of legos, instead of walking him calmly into timeout) and then feel so crappy that every action I had would reinforce my feeling that I was a bad mom.
Something changed for me this past year. I asked for God's help, and I don't get as stuck in shame as before. I still do things and say things everyday that I regret. Then I often ask my kids and husband for a do-over, and I move on. But I never have to ask God for a second chance. I know that God's promise to me is that he will pick me back up and there is such freedom in that.
There was a boy who started in Ben's class in kindergarten who had just been adopted from Ethiopia. During that first month, he often wore a florescent green cross around his neck. I don't know what they told him about Jesus at the orphanage where he lived after he was given up by his aunts and uncles. But I hope it was the story about how, when everyone else seems to have abandoned us, that God is with us, and loves us no matter what. And that Jesus is the story of a new beginning that is a promise to us all.
After I took a while to calm down, I made another attempt. I told my husband that my intention really had been to apologize, and that it obviously didn't come across that way since he reacted so defensively. So we slowly started the conversation again. And I think that it became one of the most sincere and intense conversations we've had in a really long time.
For me, the story of Jesus is all about second chances (and third, and tenth...). It is God's promise to me that I am neither a "good" person nor a "bad" one, but that I will have moments of each, and I get another chance to be better. Earlier last year, I remember getting in a cycle where I would do something I regretted (like throw Ben into his room on a pile of legos, instead of walking him calmly into timeout) and then feel so crappy that every action I had would reinforce my feeling that I was a bad mom.
Something changed for me this past year. I asked for God's help, and I don't get as stuck in shame as before. I still do things and say things everyday that I regret. Then I often ask my kids and husband for a do-over, and I move on. But I never have to ask God for a second chance. I know that God's promise to me is that he will pick me back up and there is such freedom in that.
There was a boy who started in Ben's class in kindergarten who had just been adopted from Ethiopia. During that first month, he often wore a florescent green cross around his neck. I don't know what they told him about Jesus at the orphanage where he lived after he was given up by his aunts and uncles. But I hope it was the story about how, when everyone else seems to have abandoned us, that God is with us, and loves us no matter what. And that Jesus is the story of a new beginning that is a promise to us all.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Transition to Bliss
I just spent three great days camping with my two boys, and a group of mamas and their kids. It was so great to be in the woods. At one point I spent a half an hour watching the kids play in the creek, and test their confidence on a pretty tricky log that bridged over the fast-moving stream. At first, Ben slid across on his hands and knees. The next time he walked sideways, inching. By the third and fourth times, he was practically running across. I sat far enough away so that I wasn't close enough to give instructions, nor close enough to ask for help. I got to just take in the sunshine, trees, water running over rocks, and the gushing confidence that came out of each kid.
The absolute worst part about camping was 1) the getting out of the house in the first place and 2) leaving. I've realized something about myself - once I decide something, I'm pretty impatient to get there. The kids sense my stress level, and pretty soon they are bouncing off the walls, as I'm trying to pack food for the week and their clothes and all our gear. In kid-speak, we'd call that someone who has "trouble with transitions". Indeed.
It was the same thing with leaving. An hour before, I was in camping bliss but as soon as I had "an eye on leaving" as my friend said, it was all over. When Alex took 20 minutes longer than the others to walk back from the creek, I practically dragged him along I was getting so frustrated. And I packed the kids in and drove them to the bathroom on the way out, rather than waste another half hour meandering to and from the loo.
The transition to bliss can be a tricky one. So it is with life I think as well. I'm impatient to get to the next stage for our family - can't everyone see it? I want to drag everyone along with my vision of what is clearly the best path for everyone. Though change is coming, it isn't coming nearly as fast as I would like. And I waver between wanting to force things (anything!) to happen and just trying to breathe in this transition time, and do the best I can.
The absolute worst part about camping was 1) the getting out of the house in the first place and 2) leaving. I've realized something about myself - once I decide something, I'm pretty impatient to get there. The kids sense my stress level, and pretty soon they are bouncing off the walls, as I'm trying to pack food for the week and their clothes and all our gear. In kid-speak, we'd call that someone who has "trouble with transitions". Indeed.
It was the same thing with leaving. An hour before, I was in camping bliss but as soon as I had "an eye on leaving" as my friend said, it was all over. When Alex took 20 minutes longer than the others to walk back from the creek, I practically dragged him along I was getting so frustrated. And I packed the kids in and drove them to the bathroom on the way out, rather than waste another half hour meandering to and from the loo.
The transition to bliss can be a tricky one. So it is with life I think as well. I'm impatient to get to the next stage for our family - can't everyone see it? I want to drag everyone along with my vision of what is clearly the best path for everyone. Though change is coming, it isn't coming nearly as fast as I would like. And I waver between wanting to force things (anything!) to happen and just trying to breathe in this transition time, and do the best I can.
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