is golden. And I am bathed in the golden light twixt afternoon and evening--that magical time right before dusk when you just want to hold onto what you had in the day but you know soon there'll be a beautiful sunset and you'll go out, not in a blaze of glory, but in muted flame that softens into dusk.
Two days ago was my last day at my job. Strange, it seems tomorrow I'll have to go in and do the same thing I've been doing since I got here, but I won't. I no longer have to hold onto that reality. God has given me grace upon grace to stay there and to somehow, finish well. Halleluiah. As it often goes, I left with no fanfare or tearful goodbyes and cookie cakes, just several hugs and well-wishes from friends and comrades I wish I could still see every day. They're the ones who made it special.
So here I am, in a status-sense back where I started when I got here, but in a spiritual and mental sense so much the better. God is doing a good work in me, little at a time. I feel as though I could catch my breath in fear and agitation wishing I could bring on the sunset's colors, but time will bring that cauldron and I'll be here, waiting...
for darkness. Because "God is in the darkness." That is what a tour guide once said of the darker parts of the Sienna Duomo before it became lighter and brighter up toward the skylight ceiling. God is in my future, dark and unseen by me, but known to Him as clearly as everything else. I do not have to strain to see, but simply take the hand that's offered me.
"In keeping pace or losing ground,
Lost has only to be found
Just as silence waits for sound...
Love can't be lost that's truly found."
--"Found", by Matthew Hall
And so I'll wait for You, as silence waits for sound.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Loneliness is Half the Fun
Loneliness.
A sentence unto itself, all by itself. I think that most people, myself included, are afraid to talk about being lonely. We see it as a sign of weakness, that somehow we are deficient because we lack human companionship or deep connection for the present moment. I'm here to expound.
While it is true that common symptoms of loneliness are an ache and a sigh accompanied by longing and sleepless nights, there is an upside. I'm talking about all the things you get to be and do when you're lonely. First, there's embracing it--"Let's face it, self and God, I'm lonely. Yes, I am." It seems so much easier to acknowledge it than to pretend it isn't there.
Second, there's the ability not to wallow! I and thou do have a choice. Once it's sunk in, there it is. It's the same as saying "I have a toothache". You can focus on the pain, or take an Advil and enjoy the rest of your day.
I've had a lot of "Advil" days with loneliness. There's a quiet bliss in simple things done alone with yourself and God that are vastly underrated. First, there's talking to yourself and God, interchangeably. He knows when you're addressing self or Him, so you don't have to clarify. You can talk stream-of-consciousness without editing or thinking too much of what to say. You simply say your thoughts, and God doesn't think you're a crazy person.
There's also the ability to be spontaneous to an extent that requires no permission. Tonight I decided to root up the downtown public library and was captivated by the romantic old architecture of the surrounding buildings as I drove the streets finding parking. I took joy in exploration and everything, even the fairy-like bat that fluttered past a streetlight above my head.
And then there's the little, base things. You can stay in your pj's while making important business calls. And you can eat that whole pint of Ben and Jerry's yourself without sharing (hopefully not in one sitting). You may pass gas at any moment of day or night without offending.
There's also the ability to experiment. You can cook any exotic food combination you like and let your whole house smell like fish. This week I made an amazing meal of: Tilapia cooked in olive oil, dry mustard and coriander; Sweet potato home fries with dry mustard, ginger, salt and pepper; and Quinoa cooked in almond milk flavored with bay leaf and coriander. It could have royally flopped, but it tasted amazing! Everything was completely gourmet, if I do say so myself--and I do.
Beyond all this, there's the added benefit of plenty of peace, quiet and introspection. Just think--a mother of five would kill for this.
Yes, the grass is always greener on the other side. There are days when it doesn't pay to sit in the back of the church watching the heads of happy couples lean in toward each other while trying to pull myself back to the spiritual. Yet I would say with Paul, "I have learned the secret of being content, whether with little or with plenty, [whether alone or together]. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength". phil. 4: 11,13
A sentence unto itself, all by itself. I think that most people, myself included, are afraid to talk about being lonely. We see it as a sign of weakness, that somehow we are deficient because we lack human companionship or deep connection for the present moment. I'm here to expound.
While it is true that common symptoms of loneliness are an ache and a sigh accompanied by longing and sleepless nights, there is an upside. I'm talking about all the things you get to be and do when you're lonely. First, there's embracing it--"Let's face it, self and God, I'm lonely. Yes, I am." It seems so much easier to acknowledge it than to pretend it isn't there.
Second, there's the ability not to wallow! I and thou do have a choice. Once it's sunk in, there it is. It's the same as saying "I have a toothache". You can focus on the pain, or take an Advil and enjoy the rest of your day.
I've had a lot of "Advil" days with loneliness. There's a quiet bliss in simple things done alone with yourself and God that are vastly underrated. First, there's talking to yourself and God, interchangeably. He knows when you're addressing self or Him, so you don't have to clarify. You can talk stream-of-consciousness without editing or thinking too much of what to say. You simply say your thoughts, and God doesn't think you're a crazy person.
There's also the ability to be spontaneous to an extent that requires no permission. Tonight I decided to root up the downtown public library and was captivated by the romantic old architecture of the surrounding buildings as I drove the streets finding parking. I took joy in exploration and everything, even the fairy-like bat that fluttered past a streetlight above my head.
And then there's the little, base things. You can stay in your pj's while making important business calls. And you can eat that whole pint of Ben and Jerry's yourself without sharing (hopefully not in one sitting). You may pass gas at any moment of day or night without offending.
There's also the ability to experiment. You can cook any exotic food combination you like and let your whole house smell like fish. This week I made an amazing meal of: Tilapia cooked in olive oil, dry mustard and coriander; Sweet potato home fries with dry mustard, ginger, salt and pepper; and Quinoa cooked in almond milk flavored with bay leaf and coriander. It could have royally flopped, but it tasted amazing! Everything was completely gourmet, if I do say so myself--and I do.
Beyond all this, there's the added benefit of plenty of peace, quiet and introspection. Just think--a mother of five would kill for this.
Yes, the grass is always greener on the other side. There are days when it doesn't pay to sit in the back of the church watching the heads of happy couples lean in toward each other while trying to pull myself back to the spiritual. Yet I would say with Paul, "I have learned the secret of being content, whether with little or with plenty, [whether alone or together]. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength". phil. 4: 11,13
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