This probably won't be the most amusing post I ever write...but it was the most beautiful to me =)
May 10th was a really rough day. The kind of day when you hate everybody because you feel so miserable. The kind of day when simply overhearing the laughter of another person draws a bitter thought from you. The kind of day when you purpose to clean out the junk from underneath your bed just so you can crawl under it and cry. May 10th was that kind of day.
I hated my job with a renewed vigor and felt too consumed by frustration to even count the days until I begin school again. I was exhausted because sleep had been playing games with me lately. Bad news was coming in droves. Death was way too real and tangible. Pain was all around me. People were coming to my ears with problems and looking into my eyes for solutions. They wanted advice on how to fix things that needed to be thrown away a long time ago. I had exactly 6 dollars and 43 cents in my bank account, a quarter tank of gas, and a whole lotta questions regarding exactly how I was going to get my tush to (and from) my dreaded job 5 times (25 miles each way) on roughly 4 gallons of gas. I was down to one pair of unders but didn't have enough quarters to do laundry. And then I managed to smash my pinky finger. Super.
I tried readjusting my attitude and was unsuccessful. My positive self-talk sounded insincere and the encouraging voices in my head were starting to work my nerves. Then I got an email from a friend about a sick girl who was fighting for her life. I felt embarrassed to be fixated on trivial things. I also felt overwhelmed by the presence of even more pain to those who seemed so undeserving. These thoughts were made worse by the fact that I had been questioning God's purpose for healing in our lives. I went to the bathroom to pray for the little girl and to cry.
I returned to my office and put Hillsong's "Healer" on repeat. I texted my mom who texted back (and then emailed back) Bible verse after Bible verse because I reckon that's where her help comes from. By the end of the day, I was drained and felt more than a little hopeless. I continued to say small prayers and tried my best to work through the day. I saw two clients who reported doing remarkably well in their treatment and I was pleasantly surprised. Then my grandfather called randomly and told me he had my birthday present (my birthday is in March =/ ), which turned out to be 50 dollars. Why thanks, Jesus...that solves that whole money problem!
As I drove home from work, I meditated on the concept of being happy precisely where you are (although I couldn't remember the exact words or verse at the time- fyi: Philippians 4:11-13). I bypassed Bible study in favor of alone time and sleep. At home, I found some quarters and really did mean to do my laundry, but I watched TV and ate donuts instead. At 8:45pm, I got into bed. I didn't feel quite as hopeless but my soul was still pretty heavy. I read a few passages in my Bible, but my attention span was not cooperating. I lay down to sleep and a wave of thoughts kept me awake for another hour. I tossed and turned-still stressed from the day. I had no idea where my do-rag was and I knew my brush would have something to say about that in the morning.
Finally, I decided that I've had enough and since I don't know what else to do...I prayed. I prayed for forgiveness for allowing negative thoughts and complaints to control me. I prayed for God to help me be less self centered. I prayed for clarity and patience. I prayed for optimism. I prayed a lot for the little girl who is fighting for her life. But mostly I prayed and thanked God for being what I know He is: a Healer, a Comforter, a Forgiver, a Strengthener. And I asked Him to correct any misconceptions I hold about Him. Nothing spectacular happened. I got no great revelation. I just fell asleep praying.
When I wake up in the morning, I put on every color I can find and I go to work. A full nights sleep has improved my attitude quite a few degrees. I get an email stating that I have gotten an interview for another part-time job I'd applied for and then I get a call about very small coaching position that is absolutely perfect for me. How's that for good timing? Somebody tells me that my menagerie of colors is making them feel happy. Well, isn't that nice? I manage to make it through the day with minimal irritations and I drive home (gas tank still mysteriously not empty).
A few hours later, I am once again overwhelmed by how God can love me through someone else. I walk into a mentor's(MJ) house, tired and hungry. The house is full of girls, all similarly tired and hungry. It's not long before we've all been fed and hugged. Another woman is there, sitting and laughing but not saying much. Soon, she has our attention and shares that her desire is to be nothing more than a mentor and a friend to us. She and mentor MJ want to be there for us 24/7 to provide love and guidance and support. It is important to them to rebuild communities of women committed to growing in love: loving God, loving ourselves and loving people.
We have worship there in the living room, a space so free that we sprawl out in socks with no fear of being self conscious. We pray. We are prayed for individually. We are given journals with our names glittered on them so we can write/draw/scratch down our thoughts and track our growth. We eat cake and laugh until way past our adult bedtimes.
I feel more overwhelmed than I did yesterday. Surrounded by food and music and solidarity, I feel absolutely overwhelmed by the unadulterated love of two women after God's own heart.
Sometimes love looks like praying for things I didn't even have the chance to tell you about yet.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Never judge love by its tattoos!
The other day, Chloe and I were on a mission to rent a movie, get snacks, and bond with the family. And a tatted up thug showed us mad love...
Chloe and I leave church in my trusty but dusty Honda. It has been agreed that we will rent Book of Eli (because mother has yet to see it) and get fatty snacks (because some of the family will start diets tomorrow). We drive to Hollywood Video, because Blockbuster has gone out of business (I say: blame Netflix and Redbox). It is very hot, so we ride with 3 of the 4 windows down. The driver's side window stays up because it is fickle in its choosing whether or not to be rolled back up after being rolled down. When we reach our destination, I roll up the 2 of the 3 open windows. I grow impatient 3/4 of the way through the rolling up of the third. So I leave it as it is, believing that only a fool would steal a 1994 Honda with no radio, no heat/AC, no hubcaps and only 3 working windows. If someone, probably a blind or desperate someone, did steal the Turquoise Wonder they probably needed it even more than I do and I would have to suck it up and find other means of transportation. Any other common thief would become exasperated at discovering that one must coax the car into starting and leave it precisely where it is.
Anyway, I have digressed, as usual. We leave the last window with just about a 3 inch opening...(completing the roll up would have taken another 2 or 3 minutes- ok...enough car jokes). We go into the store and find that a) Book of Eli has yet to be released AND b) Hollywood Video will also be closing in 3 weeks. This is truly a pity because I really have been trying to discourage my father from using his bootleg connection. We sigh and return to our car, brainstorming how to break the news to my mother. During the conversation I search my canyon of a purse for my keys, as is customary. When I find that I have searched unusually long, I joke: "Wouldn't it be funny if I locked my keys in the car?" Chloe and I laugh because that would be sooo like me.
Turns out...it is not really all the funny to lock your keys in the car.
As we try to shove Chloe's arm down the 3 inch opening (weird coincidence, eh?) and she tries not to cry, I remember taking my spare car key from my grandmother (who lives 10 minutes away from the current location of the car) and throwing it into the cyclone of my room in my apartment...which is over an hour away. I can see some people staring at us out of the corner of my eye. I can practically feel their judgement and I really want to assure them that we are not stealing this car. I try to squeeze my arm into that tiny slot and am forced to wriggle it back out, managing only to make myself red and ashy. Some bystanders are snickering and we are even more motivated to get into this car.
We've been trying to break into my car for about 5 minutes now and the adorable quirkiness of the situation has officially worn off. We are hot and tired and we want ice cream. Not to mention, we are still movieless. Out of the corner of my other eye, I see a big burly man approaching. I notice he is covered in tattoos and wearing a leather cut off vest. He is also carrying a very large crowbar. I've seen enough movies to know how this is going to end. Great. Not only are we sweating and locked out of the car...but now we are also in danger.
"HEY!"
Oh no...I really didn't want to have to run for my life today...
"Lemme see that...I think I can help." Said with a kind smile. I notice his biker girlfriend standing near him, also wearing a smile (and leather...but we're beyond that now!).
As he inspects my car, Chloe and I give each other embarrassed looks. Then we look at him. I notice that once you get past all the tattoos, Tattooman has a really kind face. Sadly, he and his crowbar are uncharacteristically unsuccessful. But Tattooman has another idea. He hands the crowbar to Bikerchick and grabs onto the window with both hands and pulls down with all his might.
"Quick! Stick your arm in there and unlock it! I'll hold it down"
The window is creaking and this seems like a really quick way to lose an apendage but Chloe tentatively puts her arm in there anyway. Still won't fit. Rats.
"Your turn! Go!"
He's getting a little red in the face and he's been so nice that I am compelled to put life and limb on the line. I put my arm in and straighten my elbow (which I have only now noticed is quite knobby). And voila! We unlock the car!!!
We give high fives and "Thank You's" to Tattooman who shrugs it off, takes his crowbar and walks back to his car.
Chloe and I coax the Turquoise Wonder into starting and drive off into the sunset. Actually it was daytime...but driving off into the sunset is a much more poetic ending.
Sometimes love looks like the bleeding heart tattoo on a biker's chest.
Chloe and I leave church in my trusty but dusty Honda. It has been agreed that we will rent Book of Eli (because mother has yet to see it) and get fatty snacks (because some of the family will start diets tomorrow). We drive to Hollywood Video, because Blockbuster has gone out of business (I say: blame Netflix and Redbox). It is very hot, so we ride with 3 of the 4 windows down. The driver's side window stays up because it is fickle in its choosing whether or not to be rolled back up after being rolled down. When we reach our destination, I roll up the 2 of the 3 open windows. I grow impatient 3/4 of the way through the rolling up of the third. So I leave it as it is, believing that only a fool would steal a 1994 Honda with no radio, no heat/AC, no hubcaps and only 3 working windows. If someone, probably a blind or desperate someone, did steal the Turquoise Wonder they probably needed it even more than I do and I would have to suck it up and find other means of transportation. Any other common thief would become exasperated at discovering that one must coax the car into starting and leave it precisely where it is.
Anyway, I have digressed, as usual. We leave the last window with just about a 3 inch opening...(completing the roll up would have taken another 2 or 3 minutes- ok...enough car jokes). We go into the store and find that a) Book of Eli has yet to be released AND b) Hollywood Video will also be closing in 3 weeks. This is truly a pity because I really have been trying to discourage my father from using his bootleg connection. We sigh and return to our car, brainstorming how to break the news to my mother. During the conversation I search my canyon of a purse for my keys, as is customary. When I find that I have searched unusually long, I joke: "Wouldn't it be funny if I locked my keys in the car?" Chloe and I laugh because that would be sooo like me.
Turns out...it is not really all the funny to lock your keys in the car.
As we try to shove Chloe's arm down the 3 inch opening (weird coincidence, eh?) and she tries not to cry, I remember taking my spare car key from my grandmother (who lives 10 minutes away from the current location of the car) and throwing it into the cyclone of my room in my apartment...which is over an hour away. I can see some people staring at us out of the corner of my eye. I can practically feel their judgement and I really want to assure them that we are not stealing this car. I try to squeeze my arm into that tiny slot and am forced to wriggle it back out, managing only to make myself red and ashy. Some bystanders are snickering and we are even more motivated to get into this car.
We've been trying to break into my car for about 5 minutes now and the adorable quirkiness of the situation has officially worn off. We are hot and tired and we want ice cream. Not to mention, we are still movieless. Out of the corner of my other eye, I see a big burly man approaching. I notice he is covered in tattoos and wearing a leather cut off vest. He is also carrying a very large crowbar. I've seen enough movies to know how this is going to end. Great. Not only are we sweating and locked out of the car...but now we are also in danger.
"HEY!"
Oh no...I really didn't want to have to run for my life today...
"Lemme see that...I think I can help." Said with a kind smile. I notice his biker girlfriend standing near him, also wearing a smile (and leather...but we're beyond that now!).
As he inspects my car, Chloe and I give each other embarrassed looks. Then we look at him. I notice that once you get past all the tattoos, Tattooman has a really kind face. Sadly, he and his crowbar are uncharacteristically unsuccessful. But Tattooman has another idea. He hands the crowbar to Bikerchick and grabs onto the window with both hands and pulls down with all his might.
"Quick! Stick your arm in there and unlock it! I'll hold it down"
The window is creaking and this seems like a really quick way to lose an apendage but Chloe tentatively puts her arm in there anyway. Still won't fit. Rats.
"Your turn! Go!"
He's getting a little red in the face and he's been so nice that I am compelled to put life and limb on the line. I put my arm in and straighten my elbow (which I have only now noticed is quite knobby). And voila! We unlock the car!!!
We give high fives and "Thank You's" to Tattooman who shrugs it off, takes his crowbar and walks back to his car.
Chloe and I coax the Turquoise Wonder into starting and drive off into the sunset. Actually it was daytime...but driving off into the sunset is a much more poetic ending.
Sometimes love looks like the bleeding heart tattoo on a biker's chest.
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