Some things...

I've been wondering lately about those times when it's so easy for me to trust.  Maybe easy isn't the right word.  Trusting usually isn't easy for me.  It's those times I'm thinking of in which I pray so diligently and seek the face of God so fervently when making a serious decision -- times when I don't want to rely on my emotions or instincts when I have a large decision/problem/burden/issue in front of me.  These are the times when the prayer flows freely - almost as breath from my body, keeping me alive, moving the blood through my veins. 

Yet when it comes to some "other things", as the title suggests - maybe some things that aren't as big/lofty/hard to decide on - why then is the prayer less passionate?  Less diligent?  It's not as if I need those things less.  Perhaps I worry about them less?  Perhaps because they're not "so big" that my life depends on them? But should the size of the request be the point to determine the fervency of the prayer?

I think not.

Yet it is more times than not that I end up in the same circular prayer cycle:  find a really big issue to pray about... pray, pray, pray, pray, pray... see it come to completion (whether or not it ended up the way I wanted it)... have something else come up that I should pray about -- a friend, family member, financial situation, community circumstance -- and then just think about it a lot and pray a little.  Or pray a lot in one sitting and forget about it later.  Or not even pray about it at all. 

And isn't it interesting that to the ears of God, each request would be the same size, and each would be heard in the same fashion?  In my opinion, it's the fervency of our prayer that determines our level of communion with Him.  I think we'd all be surprised if we tried praying a bit more diligently about each thing that turns over in the corners of our minds each day... for there is surely spiritual reward for seeking the face of God in prayer.

Surprises

Generally, I would say that I'm a fan of surprises.

Usually, though, surprises are something cheerful, something light, perhaps, to make you smile or feel appreciated. Most come gift-wrapped, or require your eyes to be squeezed tight to increase suspense before your special occasion unveils.

But what about those surprises that are classified as spontaneously alarming? Or the surprises that come at an inopportune time? Or what about those that really make you think about what you stand for, or question a decision that you made at a previous occasion? What about the announcement that your pastor is leaving, an exciting job offer when you've already been placed in another, or news that your best friend is engaged? Still feel that same elation, that same anticipation for what's inside this kind of gift-wrapped package?

I wonder what we as a society - or as Christians, even - would be like if we took life's little surprises as challenges to grow - the ones that please us and the ones that don't. What if we took every surprise as a question of what God is going to teach us through that?

I think we'd be looking at an intenesly regenerated group of people...

Greek Fest

It smells like Greek Fest.

As I enjoyed the holiday afternoon, sitting out on my porch reading, faint waftings of outdoor cooking, summer games, multi-cultural voices and cheerful music teased my senses into thinking I was somewhere else - in a lawn chair on my patio, perhaps, reading contentedly as the festivities commenced two blocks away. I was close enough to hear them, enjoying them vicariously through the laughter I heard, but also contented knowing that I could participate if I chose to, and with only a 5 minute walk between me and that contagious laughter I could hear. It smelled like I was at home, and Greek Fest was being celebrated right down the street.

And suddenly I was homesick.

I have never been homesick. I missed my friends and my family when I moved, of course, as anyone would. Yet I always found contentment where I was, and that always sufficed. I never felt the need to run home because of lonliness or defeat; I simply was where I was at that time, and that was where I was supposed to be. And most of the time I loved it.

But today, something inside of me longed to turn around and see that familiar family friend at the park, or the parent of some kid I went to gradeschool with. (in Milwaukee, you always meet someone you went to gradeschool with at the fireworks). And I love it up here! I really do! I love everything about the Twin Cities, but today, I was at the "Wirth Park" of St. Paul and I only knew the one person I was with. I watched reunions with old friends and new, and enjoyed food and laughter, music and celebration, but it wasn't the same. And fo some reason this brings fear to my heart.

I think it has to do with moving again. Moving means new friends, new parks, new traditions, new ways to celebrate holidays... but I fear that I won't sense reward in that. It's pretty ridiculous the way I let my heart get so tangled up with this fear business... it's not healthy at all... but days like today just make me nostalgic - and when that starts, there's just no stopping me :)

But nevertheless, the nostalgia makes me appreciate what I've been given -the positive memories that define my childhood. I'm not at the Lakefront now, or at Wirth Park, but the sights and smells remind me of the seasons of life, the times to move on.

And there's no doubt in my mind that the next season will be just as wonderful as the last...

Single Staple Sort

Well I didn't think it was possible to have a project that would exile an individual in front of a copy machine for over 2 hours at once, but it's been confirmed -- it is possible. That's what my Wednesday afternoon consisted of - copies, copies and more copies - regular, legal - stapled, not stapled - sorted, grouped. After putting my organizational skills into full swing as I stacked, stapled, clipped, and labeled, I was ready to head out of here the minute the clock struck 5... only to find that now every time I enter my vehicle, I am filled with a sense of dread as my mind reels back to 7:58 Wednesday morning, when I was greeted not with a cup of coffee, but with the St. Paul law enforcement. For the first time in my short-lived driving career, I have earned myself a speeding ticket... going 50 in a 30 might I add.

And yes, in case you were wondering, I did pull the "I-just-moved-here-and-don't-know-what-the-speed-limit-is" -- which is true - but he didn't buy it. He did, though, give me his card along with my ticket, so in case I have a lonely Friday night or am becoming depressed because of my ever-growing list of bad wedding dates, I can give him a call.

So that, on top of accidentally exposing my entire roll of film in the photo lab the night before, leaves my mind to wander to a quote that I have posted near the window in my bedroom. I found it last summer and even laminated it at GMR (sweet new site, guys), keeping it in full view as I worked 8-4 days. A close friend of mine commented on it a few days ago, and it really made me consider my current circumstances from a different angle. Fred Arnot wrote "I am learning never to be disappointed, but to praise..." I sign many an email this way, and send many a greeting card in which these words grace the back. But when it comes living in the middle of the disappointing circumstances, do I really believe these words?

My heart wants to say yes. I want to believe that my life is lived in such a way that even the disappointments can be moments in which I realize that I always have things to praise my God for. My words to live by during my senior year of college were "Be teachable." And I was; I learned a lot.

But have I lost that? Sometimes I just want to slide by... to let things happen and not think about them and how they're affecting my character and my faith. But then where is my gratitude? Then where is my sense of teachability? Buried under my selfishness, drowning in my desire for control of my thoughts/feelings/actions/circumstances, that's where.

And honestly, sometimes it's easy. Sometimes I see the lesson right away and recognize God's hand at work and what He's trying to show me, as if "God's sovereignty" were written on that date in my personal planner. It's when I have to look for it, though -to seek out the reasoning and purpose for God's engineering in my life - that my faith often gets shaky. When that Divine Hand is no longer visible and I must trust that I will not sink when walking on water -- that's when the push comes to shove.

But isn't that the basis of our faith to begin with -- believing that God can and will hold us up when we step out of the boat?

Until I find another profound quote to post... think on this: how am I living to praise in all circumstances?