It's not unnatural to be apprehensive, even fearful, of the unknown.
In general, I like to have at least a vague idea of what to expect, especially when facing a new situation. If I'm being completely honest, then I can say my default mode is that I prefer to be in control and mentally prepared for several possible outcomes in any given situation, and I can get more than a little freaked out when things aren't going according to The Plan.
Looking back at how high-strung and tightly-wound I was in years past, it's no wonder that this need to be in control has caused more harm than good-- both to myself and to friends and loved ones. Nobody really likes to be bossed around. Nobody likes to feel that they are less capable than the know-it-all, my-way-or-the-highway, I'm-in-charge-here person that colored the better part of my adult life. I had prided myself on being a tough, scrappy girl, someone who fought hard to get out from under oppression to become a strong leader, in control of my own life. And that's true, but... being in control of my own life doesn't crown me the queen of anyone else's life. That isn't being a leader, that's called being a tyrant. I recognize this now, and only wish I had seen it clearly years ago.
I'm not quite there yet, but I've worked very hard at teaching myself to relax more and go with the flow, find more Zen in my day-to-day, embrace change and spontaneity, and surrender control and outcomes to the universal higher power I understand as God. It's not easy, until it is. And as a result I can say with conviction that every single time I relax my grip on whatever situation or circumstance I'm faced with, it is the right move. Everything works out, even if it isn't the outcome I had expected, anticipated, or even desired. There is always something good that comes from it! When I do the opposite, when I decide that it's totally up to me to steer and direct and control every aspect of every situation, guess what? I become a hot mess. A stressed-out, frazzled, short-tempered mess. Not exactly the attractive qualities that I was going for!
All of this to say that I'm finally starting to enjoy the unexpected. Sure, I still like to make plans and I like to be organized and prepared. I still battle with anxiety when I plan events, wanting everything to be perfect. I don't profess to just float along through life aimlessly, seeing where the tide will take me if I don't put any effort into it. But I'm really learning to welcome and embrace the adventure that makes life so very exciting... the unscripted, the improvised, The Great Unknown.
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Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The Value of a Broken Heart
Sometimes, I do really dumb things... like, fall for a guy that I have absolutely no business falling for. To date, that has never worked out well for me. You'd think I would learn from experience, but, No. Somehow, just as soon as enough time passes between MLM's (My Last Mistake) my silly little heart is right back out there, smiling and vulnerable, just asking to get stomped on. Tsk, tsk. My brain is smart, but my heart... DUMB.
My latest romantic adventure -- wait for it-- ended badly. And I cried, felt embarassed, and was hurt and humiliated for a couple of days. Sucks, right? Of course it does. But here's where the value comes in: After the initial feelings of uber-lameness and heartbreak started to wane, I let my [smart] brain go to work and process the pain, to somehow try to find the redemptive value. And that's when it hit me: Heartbreak is the mother of Compassion. Or at least, it can be, if we choose it.
During the very darkest moments of feeling like a complete ass, a dear friend called and spoke truth to me. She reminded me of my own worth and value, didn't judge or ridicule me, and just showed incredible kindness and compassion to me. She even made me laugh... a lot, actually. She didn't have to; she chose to.
Having your heart broken is never "fun" but it is not without great value. Out of broken hearts are born compelling works of art, socio-political movements, awareness campaigns, and paradigm shifts. People far greater than me have taken their personal pain and allowed God to use it for incredible good in the world through ministries of compassion. Even Jesus himself had compassion on the people he encountered, because seeing them in their sin and misery broke his own heart.
I'm no Jesus, and I don't think that my last experience is on a comparable scale to something that would spark a global movement, but I do believe that by remembering the physical and emotional pain associated with heartbreak of any kind should move a person from selfishness to compassion. The internal becomes external. The healing that is taking place within me can be used to help heal someone else from their pain. Kinda deep and mysterious and cool to think about, and I'm excited to see what good comes out of it. Because trust me, boys aside, there are many things in this world that break my heart. This painful reminder is just a catalyst to push me out into it, armed with love for the people on my path.
My latest romantic adventure -- wait for it-- ended badly. And I cried, felt embarassed, and was hurt and humiliated for a couple of days. Sucks, right? Of course it does. But here's where the value comes in: After the initial feelings of uber-lameness and heartbreak started to wane, I let my [smart] brain go to work and process the pain, to somehow try to find the redemptive value. And that's when it hit me: Heartbreak is the mother of Compassion. Or at least, it can be, if we choose it.
During the very darkest moments of feeling like a complete ass, a dear friend called and spoke truth to me. She reminded me of my own worth and value, didn't judge or ridicule me, and just showed incredible kindness and compassion to me. She even made me laugh... a lot, actually. She didn't have to; she chose to.
Having your heart broken is never "fun" but it is not without great value. Out of broken hearts are born compelling works of art, socio-political movements, awareness campaigns, and paradigm shifts. People far greater than me have taken their personal pain and allowed God to use it for incredible good in the world through ministries of compassion. Even Jesus himself had compassion on the people he encountered, because seeing them in their sin and misery broke his own heart.
I'm no Jesus, and I don't think that my last experience is on a comparable scale to something that would spark a global movement, but I do believe that by remembering the physical and emotional pain associated with heartbreak of any kind should move a person from selfishness to compassion. The internal becomes external. The healing that is taking place within me can be used to help heal someone else from their pain. Kinda deep and mysterious and cool to think about, and I'm excited to see what good comes out of it. Because trust me, boys aside, there are many things in this world that break my heart. This painful reminder is just a catalyst to push me out into it, armed with love for the people on my path.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Leaping Faithfully
It's been far too long since I've taken a leap of faith.
Up until last week, I had been lumbering along at my job, miserable at work pretty much every day. It's not that it was a bad job or a bad place to work, per se... and certainly I am grateful for the opportunities that have accompanied the position (bills paid, roof over my head, college education for my son, flexible scheduling and ample vacation) and the amazing friends that I have made along the way. Still, it was no secret that I wanted to do more and was becoming increasingly dissatisfied with where I was at. Worse, I could see that I was becoming a person that I didn't like very much. A complainer. A gossip. Unsettled. Hateful. Depressed, angry, bitter and deeply hurt, empty and slowly dying inside.
I knew that it wasn't fair to blame the job or the company or even the boss on who and what I was turning into, but I did because it was easier than pulling up stakes and moving on. I was equating the situation with a bad boyfriend, an unhealthy relationship where I played the role of Victim. I knew that the only thing that I had any control over, the only thing I had the capacity to change, is myself. And I tried, I really did. I thought that "venting" to trusted colleagues or sharing "prayer requests" to trusted friends would lift my stress and maybe give me some guidance on how to cope in unfavorable circumstances. And it did, kind of, at first. But what I kept coming back to was the fact that all the negativity and toxicity of the situation wasn't going to self-correct. I was going to have to do it.
But I didn't.
Oh sure, I browsed other job opportunities and updated my resume. I put out feelers and tested the water. I even tried pouring myself into the things I love, but in a safe, small way. A tentative way. A half-ass way. Because when it came right down to it, I was too scared to step out in faith. Too scared to leave the security of what I knew, to step away from what had become too comfortable, even as it was unfulfilling. "It's a paycheck," I told myself. "It's really hard to find any jobs right now," I heard. "I should just be grateful," I thought. But I want more. I want to LOVE what I do again, even when it's hard. I want to know that what I'm doing truly matters. I want to do the things I'm really good at, invest in people's lives, build community, bring hope and love and healing to the world around me, do my part in affecting positive change.
And so, I resigned from my job, and after 9 years I am leaving the place that has been my place of primary employment. It's weird, but it feels really good and really right. Not because it was a bad place; but because if I didn't do it, I knew I never would.
So what happens next? I don't know, exactly, but I'm really excited to see and share the journey. I know this much: there is no place I'd rather be than actively pursuing a life of faith, wherever that takes me.
Up until last week, I had been lumbering along at my job, miserable at work pretty much every day. It's not that it was a bad job or a bad place to work, per se... and certainly I am grateful for the opportunities that have accompanied the position (bills paid, roof over my head, college education for my son, flexible scheduling and ample vacation) and the amazing friends that I have made along the way. Still, it was no secret that I wanted to do more and was becoming increasingly dissatisfied with where I was at. Worse, I could see that I was becoming a person that I didn't like very much. A complainer. A gossip. Unsettled. Hateful. Depressed, angry, bitter and deeply hurt, empty and slowly dying inside.
I knew that it wasn't fair to blame the job or the company or even the boss on who and what I was turning into, but I did because it was easier than pulling up stakes and moving on. I was equating the situation with a bad boyfriend, an unhealthy relationship where I played the role of Victim. I knew that the only thing that I had any control over, the only thing I had the capacity to change, is myself. And I tried, I really did. I thought that "venting" to trusted colleagues or sharing "prayer requests" to trusted friends would lift my stress and maybe give me some guidance on how to cope in unfavorable circumstances. And it did, kind of, at first. But what I kept coming back to was the fact that all the negativity and toxicity of the situation wasn't going to self-correct. I was going to have to do it.
But I didn't.
Oh sure, I browsed other job opportunities and updated my resume. I put out feelers and tested the water. I even tried pouring myself into the things I love, but in a safe, small way. A tentative way. A half-ass way. Because when it came right down to it, I was too scared to step out in faith. Too scared to leave the security of what I knew, to step away from what had become too comfortable, even as it was unfulfilling. "It's a paycheck," I told myself. "It's really hard to find any jobs right now," I heard. "I should just be grateful," I thought. But I want more. I want to LOVE what I do again, even when it's hard. I want to know that what I'm doing truly matters. I want to do the things I'm really good at, invest in people's lives, build community, bring hope and love and healing to the world around me, do my part in affecting positive change.
And so, I resigned from my job, and after 9 years I am leaving the place that has been my place of primary employment. It's weird, but it feels really good and really right. Not because it was a bad place; but because if I didn't do it, I knew I never would.
So what happens next? I don't know, exactly, but I'm really excited to see and share the journey. I know this much: there is no place I'd rather be than actively pursuing a life of faith, wherever that takes me.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Friend Me
I'm not sure why it seems to take a tragedy to jolt us out of our daily grind and take a look at the life we live, to take stock and count our blessings or make changes accordingly. But it does. I tend to be both introspective (just a slight step up from self-absorbed) and an observer (which can drift dangerously close to being disconnected or judgemental) and usually need some cosmic ass-whooping to get my perspective back. My most recent personal dramas, combined with a vengeful cold that has kept me in bed and grumpy the past few days, has got me re-examining who I am and what I want.
I was reflecting today on the friends in my life, and am kind of amazed at how varied they all are. There was a time when the people I hung out with were all pretty much alike, similar backgrounds and philosophy, similar tastes and interests. I'm not sure when it started to happen, but I am proud to say that is no longer the case.
I have friends who are rich and poor, old and young, gay, straight, and undecided. I have friends who follow politics and friends who are apolitical; Republicans, Democrats, Liberals, Conservatives, Moderates, Communists, Socialists. Friends who are Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Agnostics, Spiritualists, and still-figuring-it-outists. I have friends who LOVE hockey (yaaayy!!) and friends who have no clue. Friends with Benefits and the benefit of great friends. Friends who are like family, and family who are like friends. Friends who hunt and friends who would lay down their life to save an animal. Friends in different countries all over the world, friends who I've lived with, slept with, stolen with, lied with, fought with, prayed with, traveled with, danced with, laughed with, cried with... shared the deepest secrets with and the wildest dreams with. Friends who've held my hair when I was puking my guts out after waaaay too much to drink and I've held theirs. And I would do it again, anytime you needed me.
There are friends who I've known and been known by for days, years, decades, and those who I only know through the magic of Facebook. And the truth of it is, I love each and every one. I would be devastated to lose a single one, and have been heartbroken over friends that are no longer in my life. I am blessed beyond measure with people who genuinely care for me, encourage me, challenge me, and inspire me every day to be a better person.
Circumstances are fluid, life is too short, and opportunities to be happy are all around us but ever fleeting. Today, I count my blessings and call them Friends.
I was reflecting today on the friends in my life, and am kind of amazed at how varied they all are. There was a time when the people I hung out with were all pretty much alike, similar backgrounds and philosophy, similar tastes and interests. I'm not sure when it started to happen, but I am proud to say that is no longer the case.
I have friends who are rich and poor, old and young, gay, straight, and undecided. I have friends who follow politics and friends who are apolitical; Republicans, Democrats, Liberals, Conservatives, Moderates, Communists, Socialists. Friends who are Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Agnostics, Spiritualists, and still-figuring-it-outists. I have friends who LOVE hockey (yaaayy!!) and friends who have no clue. Friends with Benefits and the benefit of great friends. Friends who are like family, and family who are like friends. Friends who hunt and friends who would lay down their life to save an animal. Friends in different countries all over the world, friends who I've lived with, slept with, stolen with, lied with, fought with, prayed with, traveled with, danced with, laughed with, cried with... shared the deepest secrets with and the wildest dreams with. Friends who've held my hair when I was puking my guts out after waaaay too much to drink and I've held theirs. And I would do it again, anytime you needed me.
There are friends who I've known and been known by for days, years, decades, and those who I only know through the magic of Facebook. And the truth of it is, I love each and every one. I would be devastated to lose a single one, and have been heartbroken over friends that are no longer in my life. I am blessed beyond measure with people who genuinely care for me, encourage me, challenge me, and inspire me every day to be a better person.
Circumstances are fluid, life is too short, and opportunities to be happy are all around us but ever fleeting. Today, I count my blessings and call them Friends.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Two Faces, One Head
One of the hardest slaps to humanity has to be the face of hypocrisy.
Is it any wonder that an intense sense of disgust and betrayal wells up within us when one of our heroes shows him- or herself to be the opposite of what we believed that person to be?
Or how about when someone with direct authority over us-- parent, boss, peace officer, lawmaker-- commands from a "do as I say, not as I do" platform? Doesn't exactly make for the warm-and-fuzzies.
If a religious leader shows their ugly private side after years of public piety, forget about it. Better to just crawl under a rock and die if you are that person, because there's little hope that you will ever find restoration in the eyes of those who once followed you.
The absolute WORST offenders, however, rarely get dealt with. Their hypocrisy just continues on unfettered and unchecked, for what seems like ages until, finally, one day, they look in the mirror- and there we are. You, and me. We are really no different.
We want so badly to believe that we are above hypocrisy, but we're not. The sooner we can accept that, then the more likely we will be to extend grace and mercy to the next person who breaks our heart, shatters our faith, or causes us to shake our heads in disgust. I'm not saying it's easy; it's much easier to point to the flaws and failures of someone else and ignore our own. After all, if we are human, then we are just as two-faced, fake, broken and flawed on any given day as the next person, hoping at best to make some progress towards being a little bit better, a little bit kinder, a little bit more put together and well-adjusted. It's not until we let a light of truth shine in on our own mess that we find the humility to start cleaning up and moving forward.
Is it any wonder that an intense sense of disgust and betrayal wells up within us when one of our heroes shows him- or herself to be the opposite of what we believed that person to be?
Or how about when someone with direct authority over us-- parent, boss, peace officer, lawmaker-- commands from a "do as I say, not as I do" platform? Doesn't exactly make for the warm-and-fuzzies.
If a religious leader shows their ugly private side after years of public piety, forget about it. Better to just crawl under a rock and die if you are that person, because there's little hope that you will ever find restoration in the eyes of those who once followed you.
The absolute WORST offenders, however, rarely get dealt with. Their hypocrisy just continues on unfettered and unchecked, for what seems like ages until, finally, one day, they look in the mirror- and there we are. You, and me. We are really no different.
We want so badly to believe that we are above hypocrisy, but we're not. The sooner we can accept that, then the more likely we will be to extend grace and mercy to the next person who breaks our heart, shatters our faith, or causes us to shake our heads in disgust. I'm not saying it's easy; it's much easier to point to the flaws and failures of someone else and ignore our own. After all, if we are human, then we are just as two-faced, fake, broken and flawed on any given day as the next person, hoping at best to make some progress towards being a little bit better, a little bit kinder, a little bit more put together and well-adjusted. It's not until we let a light of truth shine in on our own mess that we find the humility to start cleaning up and moving forward.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Hockey Ruined/Saved My Life
It's been over for about a week now, and the vacuum its absence has created in my heart is palpable. A profound sense of loss, aimlessness, and longing for something that you just can't have has overcome me like a lover long gone.
Hockey season is over, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm ruined for the next three months, damned to hunt for scraps of news ("Lidstrom signed on to the Red Wings for one more year!" "Winnipeg has 7th round pick in the drafts!" "Vancouver will likely keep all of its core players!" "Speculation is that Selanne may sign for one more year!") and troll around Vegas during the NHL Awards hoping for a pic or... deep breath... an autograph.
I just love this sport. Few things have stirred up so much passion in me, given me so much joy, and filled me with a desire to belong to a group of devoted, die-hard fanatics as hockey. The fact that I'm an American, and a Californian to boot, makes it even sweeter since it makes me somewhat of a unicorn, a chupacabra if you will.
Having just finished my third season as a fan and follower, I pretty much hate that I didn't get into it years ago. Because, trust me, I would have been INTO it. I have huge admiration for the fans who know the game inside and out, know the stats and history of players long since retired, and remember fondly the days of hockey gone by. Still, I absolutely love it and am grateful that I have it now. It's much more than a game to me; it's a huge part of me.
The truth is, hockey came into my life as a blessing in disguise at a time when I needed it most. As an unmarried woman of a certain age, I hit a point in life when all of my closest friends had moved on with their married lives, my only child was all grown up, and my prospects of finding "the one" had faded into oblivion with another heartbreaking betrayal of trust. Even with the really good things I was involved in and continue to be blessed by, if I'm completely honest- the loneliness I was dealing with at the time had driven me to make choices I would rather forget and erase from existence.
And then came hockey.
Finally, something just purely fun and exciting and spectacularly thrilling that I could become immersed in, meet amazing new friends to let loose with and enjoy the ride. Hockey brings a delightfully joyful balance to my life, which is normally filled with family drama, a less than challenging job (sorry, Boss), and a wonderful ministry to HIV/AIDS orphans in Kenya. For me, watching these unbelievably talented athletes go to work and play this beautiful game stirs up something primal, something visceral that is intensely sexy, a little bit dangerous, and completely addictive. Team work, stars and legends, coaching strategy- it's incredible to see it all play out, and being surrounded by thousands of like-minded hockey lovers watching it unfold in front of me is just amazing.
Many of my friends and colleagues think I've lost it, that I need a "hockey intervention" and can't understand my Facebook posts during hockey season (let alone during playoffs). Other friends just look at me as a curiosity, a funny little source of amusement with my hockey-fueled rants. I'm totally OK with that. And then there are the magical few who get it, who fully grasp the emotional roller coaster I ride with my teams' wins and losses, who are just as passionate about their favorite players and feel with undefinable intensity what it means to love a team. These are the people who go on spontaneous road trips, cheer like maniacs at every game--whether watching from the stands or in front of the TV-- and have multiple layers of fan props (jerseys, t-shirts, car flags, face paint, tattoos... you get the picture) that just add to the enjoyment and create an incredible sense of fun-loving community that can't be manufactured. You gotta love that, right?
So yeah, you could say hockey has ruined my life- and I couldn't be happier.
Hockey season is over, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm ruined for the next three months, damned to hunt for scraps of news ("Lidstrom signed on to the Red Wings for one more year!" "Winnipeg has 7th round pick in the drafts!" "Vancouver will likely keep all of its core players!" "Speculation is that Selanne may sign for one more year!") and troll around Vegas during the NHL Awards hoping for a pic or... deep breath... an autograph.
I just love this sport. Few things have stirred up so much passion in me, given me so much joy, and filled me with a desire to belong to a group of devoted, die-hard fanatics as hockey. The fact that I'm an American, and a Californian to boot, makes it even sweeter since it makes me somewhat of a unicorn, a chupacabra if you will.
Having just finished my third season as a fan and follower, I pretty much hate that I didn't get into it years ago. Because, trust me, I would have been INTO it. I have huge admiration for the fans who know the game inside and out, know the stats and history of players long since retired, and remember fondly the days of hockey gone by. Still, I absolutely love it and am grateful that I have it now. It's much more than a game to me; it's a huge part of me.
The truth is, hockey came into my life as a blessing in disguise at a time when I needed it most. As an unmarried woman of a certain age, I hit a point in life when all of my closest friends had moved on with their married lives, my only child was all grown up, and my prospects of finding "the one" had faded into oblivion with another heartbreaking betrayal of trust. Even with the really good things I was involved in and continue to be blessed by, if I'm completely honest- the loneliness I was dealing with at the time had driven me to make choices I would rather forget and erase from existence.
And then came hockey.
Finally, something just purely fun and exciting and spectacularly thrilling that I could become immersed in, meet amazing new friends to let loose with and enjoy the ride. Hockey brings a delightfully joyful balance to my life, which is normally filled with family drama, a less than challenging job (sorry, Boss), and a wonderful ministry to HIV/AIDS orphans in Kenya. For me, watching these unbelievably talented athletes go to work and play this beautiful game stirs up something primal, something visceral that is intensely sexy, a little bit dangerous, and completely addictive. Team work, stars and legends, coaching strategy- it's incredible to see it all play out, and being surrounded by thousands of like-minded hockey lovers watching it unfold in front of me is just amazing.
Many of my friends and colleagues think I've lost it, that I need a "hockey intervention" and can't understand my Facebook posts during hockey season (let alone during playoffs). Other friends just look at me as a curiosity, a funny little source of amusement with my hockey-fueled rants. I'm totally OK with that. And then there are the magical few who get it, who fully grasp the emotional roller coaster I ride with my teams' wins and losses, who are just as passionate about their favorite players and feel with undefinable intensity what it means to love a team. These are the people who go on spontaneous road trips, cheer like maniacs at every game--whether watching from the stands or in front of the TV-- and have multiple layers of fan props (jerseys, t-shirts, car flags, face paint, tattoos... you get the picture) that just add to the enjoyment and create an incredible sense of fun-loving community that can't be manufactured. You gotta love that, right?
So yeah, you could say hockey has ruined my life- and I couldn't be happier.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Launching a Vision, Pt. 3- Seeds to Seedlings
A month ago today, I was boarding a plane and leaving Kenya. Again.
This wasn't my first rodeo, so to speak, so I had spent the previous 24 hours trying to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the next leg of my journey; not just the grueling flights in coach, anticipated airport drama, and hours without the ability to sleep, shower, or escape the pressing crowds for just a few moments of privacy [read: sanity]. No, I knew I needed to prepare myself for the inevitable funk I would have to deal with in coming back to my so-called normal life. Having made this trip more than a few times before, I knew I was going to be in for some serious soul-searching and dissatisfaction going back to the daily grind of office politics, social media sites, and a general sense of feeling like I should be doing something... more.
Over the past month, I've given my thoughts and prayers to the little seeds of a vision that was planted in Kenya, and asked God to bless the WE (Women's Empowerment) ministry being launched by William, Mary, and Kalekye.
Here's a recent update from William that made me cry in a good way: Kalekye, Mary and I have been spending good time together. You can be sure that the three of us have bonded better than before. For the last few weeks, Kalekye has been doing simple jobs at Mary's hotel. This has helped her get some little money for food. The last meeting we held saw us settle on having Kalekye do a simple vegetable shop, whereby she can be selling kales, and onions. Kalekye came up with the idea and good enough Mary offered to provide ready market for the kales every day. I chose to provide the starting capital of one thousand Kenya shillings. Mary will as well do the monitoring, but I will also be available as well. We are working with Kalekye alone before we recruit any one else. Meanwhile, Kalekye will continue working at Mary's hotel for some hours of the day to supplement for her house cares like food and house rent.
... This morning I was talking to a lady who is a member of our Church. She is living with HIV/AIDS and wonders how she can raise support for her family. I realize how the WE ministry can really minister to the needs of such a people.
If you know the backstory of these three people, you will understand that what is happening is a small miracle and a beautiful picture of God's grace being poured out through good people choosing to invest their time and care into the life of another. Not for their own glory. Not for their own publicity. Not for anything other than to reach into the messy, dirty, broken life of another and walk together through the rough places on the way to healing and restoration. Put simply, they are living out the example of God's love.
I am so excited to see what happens next. In the meantime, I am going to focus on being grateful for the life I've been given, enjoy each day as best as I can and continue to look for ways to give back, because this is what makes me truly happy.
This wasn't my first rodeo, so to speak, so I had spent the previous 24 hours trying to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the next leg of my journey; not just the grueling flights in coach, anticipated airport drama, and hours without the ability to sleep, shower, or escape the pressing crowds for just a few moments of privacy [read: sanity]. No, I knew I needed to prepare myself for the inevitable funk I would have to deal with in coming back to my so-called normal life. Having made this trip more than a few times before, I knew I was going to be in for some serious soul-searching and dissatisfaction going back to the daily grind of office politics, social media sites, and a general sense of feeling like I should be doing something... more.
Over the past month, I've given my thoughts and prayers to the little seeds of a vision that was planted in Kenya, and asked God to bless the WE (Women's Empowerment) ministry being launched by William, Mary, and Kalekye.
Here's a recent update from William that made me cry in a good way: Kalekye, Mary and I have been spending good time together. You can be sure that the three of us have bonded better than before. For the last few weeks, Kalekye has been doing simple jobs at Mary's hotel. This has helped her get some little money for food. The last meeting we held saw us settle on having Kalekye do a simple vegetable shop, whereby she can be selling kales, and onions. Kalekye came up with the idea and good enough Mary offered to provide ready market for the kales every day. I chose to provide the starting capital of one thousand Kenya shillings. Mary will as well do the monitoring, but I will also be available as well. We are working with Kalekye alone before we recruit any one else. Meanwhile, Kalekye will continue working at Mary's hotel for some hours of the day to supplement for her house cares like food and house rent.
... This morning I was talking to a lady who is a member of our Church. She is living with HIV/AIDS and wonders how she can raise support for her family. I realize how the WE ministry can really minister to the needs of such a people.
If you know the backstory of these three people, you will understand that what is happening is a small miracle and a beautiful picture of God's grace being poured out through good people choosing to invest their time and care into the life of another. Not for their own glory. Not for their own publicity. Not for anything other than to reach into the messy, dirty, broken life of another and walk together through the rough places on the way to healing and restoration. Put simply, they are living out the example of God's love.
I am so excited to see what happens next. In the meantime, I am going to focus on being grateful for the life I've been given, enjoy each day as best as I can and continue to look for ways to give back, because this is what makes me truly happy.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Breaking Point
What do you do when you are about to reach your breaking point?
Are you the type of person who retreats, or seeks comfort? Vents, or explodes? Do you crave the close company of a friend, or the anonymity of strangers? Push back or ride it out? Try to get numb with food/drink/drugs/sex/shopping/whatever, or cry out to a higher power for some sort of a sign and a hall pass?
We all have our own ways of trying to cope, and if we're being honest, there are probably a few unhealthy ways of dealing with the drama that creeps up in our lives. I know that when I am on the edge of a full-scale breakdown, there is nothing I won't try to delay the inevitable (a.k.a, me curled up in a quivering mass of tears and snot). Oh sure, I do start out honorably, best of intentions, blah-blah-blah, but when nothing seems to be taking the problem away my honor goes out the window. I will be the first to admit that I can easily cave in and let the problem overtake me. Whatever, sometimes I'm weak. But maybe, just maybe, there's something that I missed on the road to whatever disaster I'm struggling with. Maybe... it's not really a disaster at all.
All of the complaining, day dreaming, and avoidance tactics won't make the problem go away, but it will make me (and those around me) totally miserable. What if the drama/heartache/breakdown/disaster in my path is really just an invitation to make some positive changes and live a more authentic life?
We were created and designed to live full, beautiful, productive and joyful lives, regardless of our circumstances. If I find that I am in a place where I feel stuck, unmotivated, angry, disrespected or defeated, there's a reason for it. It means that something major has to change: either my circumstances, or me. Of the two, there's only one that I have any control over, so...
Are you the type of person who retreats, or seeks comfort? Vents, or explodes? Do you crave the close company of a friend, or the anonymity of strangers? Push back or ride it out? Try to get numb with food/drink/drugs/sex/shopping/whatever, or cry out to a higher power for some sort of a sign and a hall pass?
We all have our own ways of trying to cope, and if we're being honest, there are probably a few unhealthy ways of dealing with the drama that creeps up in our lives. I know that when I am on the edge of a full-scale breakdown, there is nothing I won't try to delay the inevitable (a.k.a, me curled up in a quivering mass of tears and snot). Oh sure, I do start out honorably, best of intentions, blah-blah-blah, but when nothing seems to be taking the problem away my honor goes out the window. I will be the first to admit that I can easily cave in and let the problem overtake me. Whatever, sometimes I'm weak. But maybe, just maybe, there's something that I missed on the road to whatever disaster I'm struggling with. Maybe... it's not really a disaster at all.
All of the complaining, day dreaming, and avoidance tactics won't make the problem go away, but it will make me (and those around me) totally miserable. What if the drama/heartache/breakdown/disaster in my path is really just an invitation to make some positive changes and live a more authentic life?
We were created and designed to live full, beautiful, productive and joyful lives, regardless of our circumstances. If I find that I am in a place where I feel stuck, unmotivated, angry, disrespected or defeated, there's a reason for it. It means that something major has to change: either my circumstances, or me. Of the two, there's only one that I have any control over, so...
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Launching a Vision, Pt. 2: Puzzle Pieces
One of the things I feel like God has been teaching me on this trip (among many things) is that all along, from the very first visit I made here to Kenya so many years ago and even before that, God had a plan and it is much bigger and more beautiful than anything I could have ever dreamed up on my own. He gave me the opportunity to form a bond with the people of this area, develop a love and a burden for the women in desperate situations, and play a small part in helping to bring about change, restoration, and hope in their lives.
Yesterday, I had a meeting with some key people in Masii. We were able to take part in a conversation that begins to flesh out this vision for bringing hope to the hopeless, especially the women who are most broken and desperate.
As it turns out, Mary, one of the ladies that I first met here in Masii on my first visit, has been carrying the same burden and around the same time that I felt God stirring in me to move forward, she was even experiencing the same. Mary is a very savvy business woman and she now owns and operates the newest and largest hotel and restaurant in town. I remember her as the first person to be the cook for our Vision Trip teams when we came here. At that time, she owned a very small restaurant in town. To see her now, it is clear that her good business sense has paid off handsomely. Come to find out, it is this same Mary who has been feeling broken hearted for the poorest of the poor in her community—the street kids, the outcast women, the prostitutes. She has out of her own resources been helping to feed and clothe and encourage these same people, and has been praying and looking for ways to involve others to participate and bring hope and healing to “the least of these.”
Yesterday, I had a meeting with some key people in Masii. We were able to take part in a conversation that begins to flesh out this vision for bringing hope to the hopeless, especially the women who are most broken and desperate.
As it turns out, Mary, one of the ladies that I first met here in Masii on my first visit, has been carrying the same burden and around the same time that I felt God stirring in me to move forward, she was even experiencing the same. Mary is a very savvy business woman and she now owns and operates the newest and largest hotel and restaurant in town. I remember her as the first person to be the cook for our Vision Trip teams when we came here. At that time, she owned a very small restaurant in town. To see her now, it is clear that her good business sense has paid off handsomely. Come to find out, it is this same Mary who has been feeling broken hearted for the poorest of the poor in her community—the street kids, the outcast women, the prostitutes. She has out of her own resources been helping to feed and clothe and encourage these same people, and has been praying and looking for ways to involve others to participate and bring hope and healing to “the least of these.”
Relationships 101
There are many reasons why we choose to call these visits a “Vision” Trip as opposed to a “Mission” Trip; the primary difference being that while we may be on a ‘mission’ so to speak, i.e., there are tasks we hope to complete while we are here, it is more important that we form strong, healthy relationships with our ministry partners here in Kenya and help friends back home catch the vision for the work being done.
For the task-oriented, highly efficient, go-go-go Western mindset, being in Kenya can be incredibly challenging, frustrating, or even discouraging. We want to come in and fix the problems quickly, get the job done, and move on… but that just isn’t the African way. It isn’t about the programs, it isn’t about the organization, and it isn’t even about the many different things that have been accomplished. This trip- in fact, this whole ministry- is all about relationships.
How we relate to each other, to our partners here and abroad, the communities we seek to serve and even how we relate to God… all of these relationships shape and impact our effectiveness in ministry. Certainly as men and women of faith, our primary relationship must be to God—if that one is broken or in need of attention, every other relationship will suffer in varying degrees. [Side note: I do not claim to be anything but a work in progress, and certainly struggle in some areas more than others…as anyone who knows me can attest to; but I am also covered in grace, and only hope I can extend the same to those around me.]
Because our small team of 3 is here at the same time as another Vision Trip team of 5, we are splitting the work and they are taking the majority of the home visits while we provide updated information on the kids at camp. I am grateful for that opportunity and just really glad that we could serve this way. Normally, I spend much of my time here on home visits, which has always been my favorite part of the trip. Something about connecting with the families on their home turf, learning first hand of their needs, praying with them and helping in some small yet significant way is very grounding for me personally. We did get to visit each of our sponsored kids’ homes yesterday, and it was remarkable!
Spending the last few days at the camp, I have been able to spend some time reconnecting with the staff here in Masii and am constantly amazed by the amount of work they do, day in and day out. Even a relatively simple task such as getting updates from the kids that we can send to their sponsors is a monumental undertaking—and has the potential to be very frustrating. But it has also proven to be a wonderful chance to see each and every child who is here this week, greet them, love on them, play with them, and marvel at how much they have grown—sometimes marvel that they are alive, even thriving, knowing how desperate their situations were prior to Tumaini. In the process I have also had the joy of sharing tea and working alongside my Kenyan brothers and sisters, as well as the friends I traveled with from the US. I have felt less like a tour guide on this trip, and instead have felt truly like a partner. It’s awesome. I have laughed a lot, and have slept well knowing that the day was well spent.
Last night we all had the chance to join in on a local cell group (small group Bible study held in someone’s home) and it was perfect. It was truly heaven on earth! One of the ladies, Maureen, shared with us how much it means to them to have visitors from the US come and spend time here in Masii, how much they love us and pray for us. She told us how blessed they feel that we care for them, and how much it hurts when we go back home. I was deeply touched to hear this, and I know that all too soon I will have to say goodbye again, and it’s just going to suck—for me and for them. But I can also cherish the fact that we are crying because the relationships formed here are real, that hearts are being touched, and that lives are being changed. What’s not to love about that?
For the task-oriented, highly efficient, go-go-go Western mindset, being in Kenya can be incredibly challenging, frustrating, or even discouraging. We want to come in and fix the problems quickly, get the job done, and move on… but that just isn’t the African way. It isn’t about the programs, it isn’t about the organization, and it isn’t even about the many different things that have been accomplished. This trip- in fact, this whole ministry- is all about relationships.
How we relate to each other, to our partners here and abroad, the communities we seek to serve and even how we relate to God… all of these relationships shape and impact our effectiveness in ministry. Certainly as men and women of faith, our primary relationship must be to God—if that one is broken or in need of attention, every other relationship will suffer in varying degrees. [Side note: I do not claim to be anything but a work in progress, and certainly struggle in some areas more than others…as anyone who knows me can attest to; but I am also covered in grace, and only hope I can extend the same to those around me.]
Because our small team of 3 is here at the same time as another Vision Trip team of 5, we are splitting the work and they are taking the majority of the home visits while we provide updated information on the kids at camp. I am grateful for that opportunity and just really glad that we could serve this way. Normally, I spend much of my time here on home visits, which has always been my favorite part of the trip. Something about connecting with the families on their home turf, learning first hand of their needs, praying with them and helping in some small yet significant way is very grounding for me personally. We did get to visit each of our sponsored kids’ homes yesterday, and it was remarkable!
Spending the last few days at the camp, I have been able to spend some time reconnecting with the staff here in Masii and am constantly amazed by the amount of work they do, day in and day out. Even a relatively simple task such as getting updates from the kids that we can send to their sponsors is a monumental undertaking—and has the potential to be very frustrating. But it has also proven to be a wonderful chance to see each and every child who is here this week, greet them, love on them, play with them, and marvel at how much they have grown—sometimes marvel that they are alive, even thriving, knowing how desperate their situations were prior to Tumaini. In the process I have also had the joy of sharing tea and working alongside my Kenyan brothers and sisters, as well as the friends I traveled with from the US. I have felt less like a tour guide on this trip, and instead have felt truly like a partner. It’s awesome. I have laughed a lot, and have slept well knowing that the day was well spent.
Last night we all had the chance to join in on a local cell group (small group Bible study held in someone’s home) and it was perfect. It was truly heaven on earth! One of the ladies, Maureen, shared with us how much it means to them to have visitors from the US come and spend time here in Masii, how much they love us and pray for us. She told us how blessed they feel that we care for them, and how much it hurts when we go back home. I was deeply touched to hear this, and I know that all too soon I will have to say goodbye again, and it’s just going to suck—for me and for them. But I can also cherish the fact that we are crying because the relationships formed here are real, that hearts are being touched, and that lives are being changed. What’s not to love about that?
Pause: Pray: Go
It’s hard to believe it’s only Day 4 in Kenya. It’s just Monday, after all! Granted, there were two days of travel including one l-o-n-g layover in Amsterdam that make it feel like I’ve been away from home forever. The combination of jet lag, lack of sleep, and being thrust into a new group of people does have an impact on what I’ve come to know as “normal.” Add to that being unplugged from hockey (IT’S THE PLAYOFFS!), my BlackBerry, Facebook, Twitter… it’s just weird.
It feels like in many ways, life as I know it has been paused.
Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
And so, I pause.
I pause because sometimes stepping back from “normal” is the only way to see how much I’ve been missing. I like to think of it as God’s way of inviting me to review, reevaluate, and maybe reset the trajectory of my life.
I’ve been taking this same mission trip for many years, and even though many things are the same (i.e., typical tourist days, rural church service, camp, home visits, etc.) it’s always different, always a unique experience. No matter how many times I go to camp and see hundreds of beautiful, precious, funny and amazing kids, it is always wonderful to spend even just a little bit of time with them. It reminds me to be truly grateful for all that I have and all that I have seen and done, every experience and learning opportunity. No matter how many home visits I go on, how many times I hear the same silly jokes about Idi Amin and the Queen of England, or ride together on impossible roads, or hear little kids yell out “MZUNGU!” (“WHITE PERSON!”) while giggling and waving frantically, or share a lovingly prepared meal with men and women who are built of stronger stuff and greater faith than me, I am challenged, amazed, overwhelmed and blessed. It challenges me to love people more fully and authentically, even and especially those who think differently than me. I find that the muscles of faith and humility that I have allowed to atrophy are almost instantly revived, and my prayer life receives the kick-start it has so desperately needed. I pray, and ask God to take my life and create in me a clean heart and a good spirit. I want my eyes open, my heart broken, and my life to be a pleasant offering of goodness and peace.
Tomorrow, I will get to go and see my “son” and spend some time visiting with him and his mother at their home. I am so excited, and I can’t wait to give them a little something. Until then, though, I remain on pause. I see already that there is a LOT of work yet to do in me.
It feels like in many ways, life as I know it has been paused.
Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
And so, I pause.
I pause because sometimes stepping back from “normal” is the only way to see how much I’ve been missing. I like to think of it as God’s way of inviting me to review, reevaluate, and maybe reset the trajectory of my life.
I’ve been taking this same mission trip for many years, and even though many things are the same (i.e., typical tourist days, rural church service, camp, home visits, etc.) it’s always different, always a unique experience. No matter how many times I go to camp and see hundreds of beautiful, precious, funny and amazing kids, it is always wonderful to spend even just a little bit of time with them. It reminds me to be truly grateful for all that I have and all that I have seen and done, every experience and learning opportunity. No matter how many home visits I go on, how many times I hear the same silly jokes about Idi Amin and the Queen of England, or ride together on impossible roads, or hear little kids yell out “MZUNGU!” (“WHITE PERSON!”) while giggling and waving frantically, or share a lovingly prepared meal with men and women who are built of stronger stuff and greater faith than me, I am challenged, amazed, overwhelmed and blessed. It challenges me to love people more fully and authentically, even and especially those who think differently than me. I find that the muscles of faith and humility that I have allowed to atrophy are almost instantly revived, and my prayer life receives the kick-start it has so desperately needed. I pray, and ask God to take my life and create in me a clean heart and a good spirit. I want my eyes open, my heart broken, and my life to be a pleasant offering of goodness and peace.
Tomorrow, I will get to go and see my “son” and spend some time visiting with him and his mother at their home. I am so excited, and I can’t wait to give them a little something. Until then, though, I remain on pause. I see already that there is a LOT of work yet to do in me.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Opportunities- Missed and Otherwise
Do you ever wonder how many opportunities you are presented with throughout any given day? I suspect that there are many more than we tend to realize. I know that when I am going through my day on auto-pilot it takes something unusual, extraordinary, or annoying to catch my attention. Today it was something in the "Annoying" category that made me think twice and recalibrate.
It was just minutes before my lunch break, and I was getting really, really hungry. All I could picture was a fat, juicy, ridiculously oversized burger and a pint of cold beer (for medicinal purposes). I imagined spending an hour in a relaxed little sports bar, some funny old dudes talking crap with the bartender and a few guys in dress shirts wearing their ties over the shoulder. Maybe a couple of guys with tattoos having a smoke on the patio. You know, a little slice of heaven in the middle of a work day. That was what I pictured. My reality? A bit different...
After navigating my way through a construction zone to access the parking lot, I went to check out a little sports bar that I hadn't been to and anticipated my fat burger and cold beer. On my way in, saw a guy on the patio with tats and smoke. (Check) Inside, lots of funny old guys around the bar chatting it up. A couple of booths and tables with dress shirt guys, some ties over the shoulder, some braving the bbq sauce with wild abandon. (Check, check) I found a stool near the back and watched some hockey and waited for the server to come take my order. Mmm, burger. Mmm, beer. The waitress came to deliver a pitcher to the table of dress shirts next to me; didn't acknowledge me. OK, I thought, I'm sure she'll be right back. She came back to the shirts with a pizza, and promptly left again-- still not acknowledging my presence. The shirts, at least they noticed me. Finally little Miss Can't Be Bothered came over and said, "Did you want something?" Um, really? I would have probably opened with, "Hi, what can I get for you?" instead of assuming that my sole purpose for coming there at lunch hour was to NOT eat or drink anything. But hey, that's just me. I sucked up my growing irritation and said "Yes, I would love a burger and a beer." "Oh, we don't make burgers," she said before rattling off some lame sandwiches and closing with a vaguely insincere "Sorry." I politely excused myself and thanked her for her time (ok-- that may have been vaguely insincere) and went back on my quest, annoyed and hungry.
Battling back through safety cones and torn up streets, I headed back towards the office wondering what to eat. I obviously wasn't going to have time for a beer now, which was fine. Probably for the best. At last and after a mini-meltdown in the car prompted by hunger and raging PMS, I pulled into the In-n-Out and found a parking space (small miracle in itself). #2, no onions, Diet Coke w/lemon. A different slice of heaven, and it was just fine. As I was finishing off my burger, a very dirty, very weathered homeless man came and quietly sat at the table next to me. I watched people in the restaurant look at him with unbridled disgust, and it hurt my heart. "How're ya doin'?" I asked him. He looked at me and just shook his head. I didn't have a response for that. I nibbled some fries, two at a time (it's my thing) and sent up a silent little prayer. God, what do you want me to do? I gathered up my trash and my purse, asked the gentleman if he had ordered yet-- he just shook his head. "May I buy your lunch?" I offered, and he quietly said "Thank you, Miss." I went and placed his order, returned and gave him the receipt and a cup. "Here you go- you're order #4, so when they call your number go ahead and pick it up. I'll let you get your own drink, okay? Take care, brother." He whispered another thank you, and I went back to the office.
Seems to me the opportunity to feed a hungry old man and show a bit of kindness trumps a cold beer in the middle of my work day. I wonder how many other opportunities I have missed each day by not stopping to just look around and see? At least this one didn't slip by unnoticed.
It was just minutes before my lunch break, and I was getting really, really hungry. All I could picture was a fat, juicy, ridiculously oversized burger and a pint of cold beer (for medicinal purposes). I imagined spending an hour in a relaxed little sports bar, some funny old dudes talking crap with the bartender and a few guys in dress shirts wearing their ties over the shoulder. Maybe a couple of guys with tattoos having a smoke on the patio. You know, a little slice of heaven in the middle of a work day. That was what I pictured. My reality? A bit different...
After navigating my way through a construction zone to access the parking lot, I went to check out a little sports bar that I hadn't been to and anticipated my fat burger and cold beer. On my way in, saw a guy on the patio with tats and smoke. (Check) Inside, lots of funny old guys around the bar chatting it up. A couple of booths and tables with dress shirt guys, some ties over the shoulder, some braving the bbq sauce with wild abandon. (Check, check) I found a stool near the back and watched some hockey and waited for the server to come take my order. Mmm, burger. Mmm, beer. The waitress came to deliver a pitcher to the table of dress shirts next to me; didn't acknowledge me. OK, I thought, I'm sure she'll be right back. She came back to the shirts with a pizza, and promptly left again-- still not acknowledging my presence. The shirts, at least they noticed me. Finally little Miss Can't Be Bothered came over and said, "Did you want something?" Um, really? I would have probably opened with, "Hi, what can I get for you?" instead of assuming that my sole purpose for coming there at lunch hour was to NOT eat or drink anything. But hey, that's just me. I sucked up my growing irritation and said "Yes, I would love a burger and a beer." "Oh, we don't make burgers," she said before rattling off some lame sandwiches and closing with a vaguely insincere "Sorry." I politely excused myself and thanked her for her time (ok-- that may have been vaguely insincere) and went back on my quest, annoyed and hungry.
Battling back through safety cones and torn up streets, I headed back towards the office wondering what to eat. I obviously wasn't going to have time for a beer now, which was fine. Probably for the best. At last and after a mini-meltdown in the car prompted by hunger and raging PMS, I pulled into the In-n-Out and found a parking space (small miracle in itself). #2, no onions, Diet Coke w/lemon. A different slice of heaven, and it was just fine. As I was finishing off my burger, a very dirty, very weathered homeless man came and quietly sat at the table next to me. I watched people in the restaurant look at him with unbridled disgust, and it hurt my heart. "How're ya doin'?" I asked him. He looked at me and just shook his head. I didn't have a response for that. I nibbled some fries, two at a time (it's my thing) and sent up a silent little prayer. God, what do you want me to do? I gathered up my trash and my purse, asked the gentleman if he had ordered yet-- he just shook his head. "May I buy your lunch?" I offered, and he quietly said "Thank you, Miss." I went and placed his order, returned and gave him the receipt and a cup. "Here you go- you're order #4, so when they call your number go ahead and pick it up. I'll let you get your own drink, okay? Take care, brother." He whispered another thank you, and I went back to the office.
Seems to me the opportunity to feed a hungry old man and show a bit of kindness trumps a cold beer in the middle of my work day. I wonder how many other opportunities I have missed each day by not stopping to just look around and see? At least this one didn't slip by unnoticed.
Monday, March 7, 2011
There's No Crying in Hockey
The omens were bad before the puck ever dropped last night in Anaheim.
For starters, I mistakenly gave away my only pair of seats for the Ducks v Canucks game (I usually have 2 pairs-- I will blame this on a Blonde Moment). In an effort to save face, I purchased another pair before my buddy arrived but could not get seats in my normal section. Instead, we were about the only two Ducks fans in our new section, which wasn't hard to do in a stadium boasting a good 60-75% Vancouver fans... actual Vancouver fans, from Canada, as opposed to the typical bandwagon fans that come to town to watch a hot team. Gratefully, the majority of 'nucks around us were good natured and just being (loudly) supportive of their team. Only a few were complete tools- you could easily slip a Kings, Sharks, or Red Wings jersey on these particular ass clowns- but they were the minority, at least where I was sitting.
The next bad omen came when the starting lineup was being announced, and instead of acknowledging Dan Ellis in goal, we heard in disbelief the name of "Dan Sexton" ...Dan SEXTON... our speedy little forward, the one who gets shipped back and forth to Syracuse what seems like every other week. And there was no recovery from the announcer. No, "Haha, Just kidding! Of course Dan Sexton isn't in goal. It's DANNNNNN ELLLLLLLLIS!!!" THAT would have been a good do-over, but that didn't happen. And believe me when I tell you Dan Ellis would love to have a do-over last night, after letting in the first goal less than 20 seconds into the game. Of course, all the 'nuck-le heads in the building went nuts and began chanting, taunting our goalie and it really never let up.
Ducks could not catch a break, and even with a few insane Power Plays could not get a puck past Schneider (Vancouver backup goalie). So many close calls, so many times when it should have gone in. And though some will disagree with me, I don't think we played a bad game. Vancouver just did a better job overall of controlling the puck, lifting our sticks and protecting their goal. Still, I can only take small consolation in the fact that we ended our 3-game streak by being shut out 3-0 in our own home by the top team in the amazing Western Conference.
This was the first time I've ever left a game early. After the end of the second period, after we were now down 2 goals (the second one an eerie repeat of the first one, scored seconds after the start of the period) I found myself so mad that I was actually starting to cry. I am ashamed to admit that I had to hide out in the women's restroom to try and regain my composure. I couldn't. Every time I would try to step back out with my head up, the tears would start to flow again. It was awful! And in my humiliation, I texted my buddy that I was not going to pull it together. I was going home to sulk.
Oh, my Ducks, it's come to this. Clearly, I love you with the passion that I would put into any relationship. And girlie-girl that I am, yes, sometimes I am just a little too emotional to handle disappointment gracefully. Not to worry, I won't ever give up on you. I am loyal. But if it comes down to me losing it like that, I will quietly excuse myself rather than embarass you with my girlie tears. GO DUCKS!!!
For starters, I mistakenly gave away my only pair of seats for the Ducks v Canucks game (I usually have 2 pairs-- I will blame this on a Blonde Moment). In an effort to save face, I purchased another pair before my buddy arrived but could not get seats in my normal section. Instead, we were about the only two Ducks fans in our new section, which wasn't hard to do in a stadium boasting a good 60-75% Vancouver fans... actual Vancouver fans, from Canada, as opposed to the typical bandwagon fans that come to town to watch a hot team. Gratefully, the majority of 'nucks around us were good natured and just being (loudly) supportive of their team. Only a few were complete tools- you could easily slip a Kings, Sharks, or Red Wings jersey on these particular ass clowns- but they were the minority, at least where I was sitting.
The next bad omen came when the starting lineup was being announced, and instead of acknowledging Dan Ellis in goal, we heard in disbelief the name of "Dan Sexton" ...Dan SEXTON... our speedy little forward, the one who gets shipped back and forth to Syracuse what seems like every other week. And there was no recovery from the announcer. No, "Haha, Just kidding! Of course Dan Sexton isn't in goal. It's DANNNNNN ELLLLLLLLIS!!!" THAT would have been a good do-over, but that didn't happen. And believe me when I tell you Dan Ellis would love to have a do-over last night, after letting in the first goal less than 20 seconds into the game. Of course, all the 'nuck-le heads in the building went nuts and began chanting, taunting our goalie and it really never let up.
Ducks could not catch a break, and even with a few insane Power Plays could not get a puck past Schneider (Vancouver backup goalie). So many close calls, so many times when it should have gone in. And though some will disagree with me, I don't think we played a bad game. Vancouver just did a better job overall of controlling the puck, lifting our sticks and protecting their goal. Still, I can only take small consolation in the fact that we ended our 3-game streak by being shut out 3-0 in our own home by the top team in the amazing Western Conference.
This was the first time I've ever left a game early. After the end of the second period, after we were now down 2 goals (the second one an eerie repeat of the first one, scored seconds after the start of the period) I found myself so mad that I was actually starting to cry. I am ashamed to admit that I had to hide out in the women's restroom to try and regain my composure. I couldn't. Every time I would try to step back out with my head up, the tears would start to flow again. It was awful! And in my humiliation, I texted my buddy that I was not going to pull it together. I was going home to sulk.
Oh, my Ducks, it's come to this. Clearly, I love you with the passion that I would put into any relationship. And girlie-girl that I am, yes, sometimes I am just a little too emotional to handle disappointment gracefully. Not to worry, I won't ever give up on you. I am loyal. But if it comes down to me losing it like that, I will quietly excuse myself rather than embarass you with my girlie tears. GO DUCKS!!!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Exhausted!
Ever notice how physically and emotionally draining it is to avoid someone whom you just don't want to deal with? Of course I will always stand up to a bully and I have no fear of getting ugly with anyone who pushes the wrong buttons, but when it's just some nice guy who is trying to push the friend envelope into dating territory, it messes me up. I'm just too nice. I am afraid to speak up and say simply, "Thanks, but no thanks." It feels so cold, so harsh, to have to redirect advances and weird-out what was a perfectly comfortable friendship. It actually makes me a little bit angry (ok a lot) because it puts me in the role of being The Bitch, and I am not a bitch. Like, at all.
What's perhaps worse is that I am seeing a bit of a trend, a strange parallel universe of avoidance that has suddenly sprung up over the last month like so many spring flowers. Here are the current contenders for Most Angst Inducing People: Mr. Wants-to-Date-Me Guy; Miss On-Again/Off-Again Trainwreck Friend; and finally, Mr. You're Not My Boss, Man.
Aside from the fact that I have no exploitable talent, protecting my personal space from unwanted attention is probably the real reason why I could never handle being a celebrity of any kind. I always wanted to be famous, but the truth of the matter is that world of stalkers and creepy crushes would eat me alive!
So here I am, avoiding phone calls and not returning voicemail. Shooting out a text to stall for time. Seriously considering skipping church just so I don't have to run into "him" and have that super-awkward conversation. Good job. Ugh! I know that the right thing to do is just suck it up and deal with each of these people one on one, try to be as gracious and honest as possible with each situation, and move on. I know it won't be easy, and just thinking about it wrecks me... so wish me luck. Prayers gratefully accepted.
What's perhaps worse is that I am seeing a bit of a trend, a strange parallel universe of avoidance that has suddenly sprung up over the last month like so many spring flowers. Here are the current contenders for Most Angst Inducing People: Mr. Wants-to-Date-Me Guy; Miss On-Again/Off-Again Trainwreck Friend; and finally, Mr. You're Not My Boss, Man.
Aside from the fact that I have no exploitable talent, protecting my personal space from unwanted attention is probably the real reason why I could never handle being a celebrity of any kind. I always wanted to be famous, but the truth of the matter is that world of stalkers and creepy crushes would eat me alive!
So here I am, avoiding phone calls and not returning voicemail. Shooting out a text to stall for time. Seriously considering skipping church just so I don't have to run into "him" and have that super-awkward conversation. Good job. Ugh! I know that the right thing to do is just suck it up and deal with each of these people one on one, try to be as gracious and honest as possible with each situation, and move on. I know it won't be easy, and just thinking about it wrecks me... so wish me luck. Prayers gratefully accepted.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
How Far Would You Go? Pt. 2: Update on Antoinette
Last week, I met a sweet woman by the name of Antoinette whose circumstances just punched me in the gut. Why did her story affect me? It hit me so hard because I know she is not alone in her plight. I know that all around us are far too many people facing similarly frightening, overwhelming circumstances as Antoinette; some are trying to cope with even greater difficulties.
Antoinette is elderly, in poor health, confined to a wheelchair, sharing an apartment with her 44-year-old, unemployed, hearing-impaired son, and unable to cover rent, pay bills, and buy food on a very small fixed income.
I had a fairly one-sided conversation with God. OK, to be honest, it was more like me ranting and complaining, wondering aloud how I could possibly help Antoinette. I had no other connection to her other than I had learned of her situation through a dear friend, and he only heard of her through her nurse who had somehow heard of my friend's work among homeless people. We just knew that coincidence had nothing to do with it; God had given us an opportunity to help another human, for no other reason than it is the right thing to do. We decided to start by collecting some food from our own pantries and stopping by Trader Joe's for some groceries to deliver to Antoinette for our first meeting and assess her situation. It was in meeting her where she was at that we were able to see firsthand her immediate needs and begin to formulate a plan to address them.
Need #1: Food
The fact that there was no food in their home except for two cans of corn, half a jar of Skippy and some instant coffee was astonishing to me. The few bags of groceries we brought on our first meeting helped to provide fresh produce, meats, dairy, frozen meals and canned goods to last a couple of weeks. A good start, but we knew that would be used up quickly. We put the word out to our friends and received donations right away (THANK YOU!). This was enough to help restock her pantry and give them some breathing room for a few more weeks. We are also in process of setting her up with an organization called The Treasure Box that provides amazing food boxes, enough to feed a family of four, for just $30. Something she can actually afford! Awesome!
Need #2: Electicity
Antoinette and her son have been living hand-to-mouth on a small, fixed income. They used up all of her cash for the month to move into their apartment, and with no savings left to tap into, she was unable to cover the cost of her electic bill. Because they had fallen behind in payments, the electricity was scheduled to be shut off on Monday. While on the phone with the electric company, we learned that she is pretty far behind-- nearly $400. Thanks to the generosity of many friends, we were able to gather enough to pay this month's bill (about $130) and get her an extension to the end of the month.
Need #3: Furnishings
The apartment is clean and in a safe-enough neighborhood. When I tell you that the apartment was sparse, I realize that even what she does have is a luxury for millions of people around the world. Still, we felt broken for her. It contains some very basic amenities such as an oven and a fridge, a few very modest pieces of furniture (i.e., dining room table with a couple of broken chairs, two of which are used to support the small TV) a mattress on the floor of her bedroom and not much else. She sleeps on the mattress, her son sleeps on the floor. She was embarassed and apologized over and over that she had no furniture for us to sit on. No big deal, we just sat on the floor with her in her wheelchair while we visited and prayed. Within a week, our friends at Kingdom Causes were able to donate a couch for the living room, Cris and Tom with the Pepper Project donated several bags of home goods, and several other friends donated paper products, clothing, towels, etc. We are still working on 2 beds/bedding and safety rails for the bathroom.
Need #4: Community
It has been incredible to see people step up, pull together and reach out to help someone in need, someone they may never know face to face. Just knowing that there are good people who care is such a comfort, not only to Antoinette-- but also to me. It restores my hope in the goodness of humankind. It reminds me that God created people to love and care for each other, and no matter how broken and ugly our world seems to be there is still a great deal of goodness in it. Antoinette is a woman with great faith, and deeply blessed us with her sweetness. The only thing she asked of us was to tell everyone who has helped her "thank you". She really wants to be connected to a church, so Geoffrey made contact with the pastor of a local church on her behalf.
So often we go through our days and never give another thought to what kind of power we have within us. It's not until something shakes us up that we are reminded of our intimate connection to people all around the world, regardless of language, skin color, gender or ideology... and it's in those tender moments that the true beauty of community shines brightest.
If you would like to check out some of the organizations mentioned here, please take a look at their websites:
Treasure Box
Kingdom Causes
Pepper Project
Antoinette is elderly, in poor health, confined to a wheelchair, sharing an apartment with her 44-year-old, unemployed, hearing-impaired son, and unable to cover rent, pay bills, and buy food on a very small fixed income.
I had a fairly one-sided conversation with God. OK, to be honest, it was more like me ranting and complaining, wondering aloud how I could possibly help Antoinette. I had no other connection to her other than I had learned of her situation through a dear friend, and he only heard of her through her nurse who had somehow heard of my friend's work among homeless people. We just knew that coincidence had nothing to do with it; God had given us an opportunity to help another human, for no other reason than it is the right thing to do. We decided to start by collecting some food from our own pantries and stopping by Trader Joe's for some groceries to deliver to Antoinette for our first meeting and assess her situation. It was in meeting her where she was at that we were able to see firsthand her immediate needs and begin to formulate a plan to address them.
Need #1: Food
The fact that there was no food in their home except for two cans of corn, half a jar of Skippy and some instant coffee was astonishing to me. The few bags of groceries we brought on our first meeting helped to provide fresh produce, meats, dairy, frozen meals and canned goods to last a couple of weeks. A good start, but we knew that would be used up quickly. We put the word out to our friends and received donations right away (THANK YOU!). This was enough to help restock her pantry and give them some breathing room for a few more weeks. We are also in process of setting her up with an organization called The Treasure Box that provides amazing food boxes, enough to feed a family of four, for just $30. Something she can actually afford! Awesome!
Need #2: Electicity
Antoinette and her son have been living hand-to-mouth on a small, fixed income. They used up all of her cash for the month to move into their apartment, and with no savings left to tap into, she was unable to cover the cost of her electic bill. Because they had fallen behind in payments, the electricity was scheduled to be shut off on Monday. While on the phone with the electric company, we learned that she is pretty far behind-- nearly $400. Thanks to the generosity of many friends, we were able to gather enough to pay this month's bill (about $130) and get her an extension to the end of the month.
Need #3: Furnishings
The apartment is clean and in a safe-enough neighborhood. When I tell you that the apartment was sparse, I realize that even what she does have is a luxury for millions of people around the world. Still, we felt broken for her. It contains some very basic amenities such as an oven and a fridge, a few very modest pieces of furniture (i.e., dining room table with a couple of broken chairs, two of which are used to support the small TV) a mattress on the floor of her bedroom and not much else. She sleeps on the mattress, her son sleeps on the floor. She was embarassed and apologized over and over that she had no furniture for us to sit on. No big deal, we just sat on the floor with her in her wheelchair while we visited and prayed. Within a week, our friends at Kingdom Causes were able to donate a couch for the living room, Cris and Tom with the Pepper Project donated several bags of home goods, and several other friends donated paper products, clothing, towels, etc. We are still working on 2 beds/bedding and safety rails for the bathroom.
Need #4: Community
It has been incredible to see people step up, pull together and reach out to help someone in need, someone they may never know face to face. Just knowing that there are good people who care is such a comfort, not only to Antoinette-- but also to me. It restores my hope in the goodness of humankind. It reminds me that God created people to love and care for each other, and no matter how broken and ugly our world seems to be there is still a great deal of goodness in it. Antoinette is a woman with great faith, and deeply blessed us with her sweetness. The only thing she asked of us was to tell everyone who has helped her "thank you". She really wants to be connected to a church, so Geoffrey made contact with the pastor of a local church on her behalf.
So often we go through our days and never give another thought to what kind of power we have within us. It's not until something shakes us up that we are reminded of our intimate connection to people all around the world, regardless of language, skin color, gender or ideology... and it's in those tender moments that the true beauty of community shines brightest.
If you would like to check out some of the organizations mentioned here, please take a look at their websites:
Treasure Box
Kingdom Causes
Pepper Project
Saturday, February 12, 2011
How Far Would You Go?
"You really don't have to go very far to find people in need." What do you do when you encounter someone who is truly in need? Do you try and help? Do you try to get others involved? Do you look the other way? I suspect all of the above, at one time or another.
I met someone today who needs lots of help. It was overwhelming, actually, and I left her home feeling pretty jacked up over it. Her name is Antoinette, and I'll share about her story in a minute. The thing is, right now... right here... I am gobsmacked by the encounter and want some answers.
Me: God, what do you want me to do? How can I possibly help?
God: ---
Me: Um, sorry, I didn't quite catch that... what should I do?
God: ---
Me: Okay, I trust you. And I get that you are sovereign, etc. Still, could I maybe get a little bit of help here on what to do? Antoinette is sick, her diabetes has taken half of her foot and now wants more, she is in pain, she is confined to a wheelchair, her 44 year old disabled son lives with her, neither one works, both barely make enough to survive, they have NO furniture, NO food, NO family to speak of, and the electricity is being shut off on Monday. Happy Valentine's Day! AAAHHHH!!!!
God: ---
Me: OK, I'm ranting, I just DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO. (tears)
God: ---
Me: I expected when Geoffrey and I brought over the groceries today we would not literally see such empty cupboards. There was, what- 2 cans of corn? A half jar of Skippy and some instant coffee?
God: ---
Me: You can't meet someone in that deep of a hole and just walk away, right?
God: ---
Me: I have to help. I know that much, I just don't know how.
God: ---
Me: ---
God: ---
Me: ---
I know that this is an opportunity God has given me, or rather, has given us to ease the immediate suffering of a fellow human. And yes, I am excited to see how people will step up and do something, anything, to help. I am looking forward to watching how God moves in her life through the lives of me and you and others in the community, and I am especially looking forward to seeing hope restored in her. And also in me.
I met someone today who needs lots of help. It was overwhelming, actually, and I left her home feeling pretty jacked up over it. Her name is Antoinette, and I'll share about her story in a minute. The thing is, right now... right here... I am gobsmacked by the encounter and want some answers.
Me: God, what do you want me to do? How can I possibly help?
God: ---
Me: Um, sorry, I didn't quite catch that... what should I do?
God: ---
Me: Okay, I trust you. And I get that you are sovereign, etc. Still, could I maybe get a little bit of help here on what to do? Antoinette is sick, her diabetes has taken half of her foot and now wants more, she is in pain, she is confined to a wheelchair, her 44 year old disabled son lives with her, neither one works, both barely make enough to survive, they have NO furniture, NO food, NO family to speak of, and the electricity is being shut off on Monday. Happy Valentine's Day! AAAHHHH!!!!
God: ---
Me: OK, I'm ranting, I just DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO. (tears)
God: ---
Me: I expected when Geoffrey and I brought over the groceries today we would not literally see such empty cupboards. There was, what- 2 cans of corn? A half jar of Skippy and some instant coffee?
God: ---
Me: You can't meet someone in that deep of a hole and just walk away, right?
God: ---
Me: I have to help. I know that much, I just don't know how.
God: ---
Me: ---
God: ---
Me: ---
I know that this is an opportunity God has given me, or rather, has given us to ease the immediate suffering of a fellow human. And yes, I am excited to see how people will step up and do something, anything, to help. I am looking forward to watching how God moves in her life through the lives of me and you and others in the community, and I am especially looking forward to seeing hope restored in her. And also in me.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Launching a Vision, Pt. 1- Momentum
"The momentum has shifted! The momentum has shifted!" My friend Ryan may have adopted this as his favorite phrase during the little football game broadcast this past weekend (a.k.a. Superbowl 45. No, I refuse to use the Roman numerals. Deal with it.) Mostly he was doing this to taunt me and goad me, Honorary Cheesehead, into a state of panic-- especially the third period. Ultimately, the Pack did in fact Go and now the fabled Lombardi Trophy is back in Green Bay.
I could go on, but that pretty much taps my depth of football knowledge and interest. (Deal with it.)
It did get me thinking, though. Momentum is a significant factor when it comes to launching a vision, especially in the initial stages when there seem to be more hurdles in front of you than behind you or worse, you find yourself stalled and all you want to do is get the vision out of your head, off the paper and into glorious existence.
What do professional sports teams do when the momentum has shifted and they've hit a losing skid? They don't dwell on the loss. They don't rehash every move that went wrong. Instead, they look forward to the next match up. They size up their opponent. They strengthen what is already working for them and make adjustments to what isn't, and before too long guess what? The momentum shifts, and they are back in the winning column.
In my journey to launching my vision, I get pretty frustrated when my own forward progress slows and stalls out. I will be cruising along, fired up and excited about letting this passion take hold of me, totally giddy about what is taking shape, when out of nowhere things just start to sputter... then cough... then choke... and finally completely stall in the middle of the road. Kinda like the first time I tried to drive a stick shift, minus the super colorful language and angry tears. How that old VW didn't just blow up and eject me, I will never know. Eventually and with some great coaching, I did finally figure out how to master a 5-speed and a whole new world opened up for me. No more rolling backwards on a hill or freaking out every stop light. Same is true for moving my passion forward despite whatever external forces come into play; momentum, baby, momentum!
I could go on, but that pretty much taps my depth of football knowledge and interest. (Deal with it.)
It did get me thinking, though. Momentum is a significant factor when it comes to launching a vision, especially in the initial stages when there seem to be more hurdles in front of you than behind you or worse, you find yourself stalled and all you want to do is get the vision out of your head, off the paper and into glorious existence.
What do professional sports teams do when the momentum has shifted and they've hit a losing skid? They don't dwell on the loss. They don't rehash every move that went wrong. Instead, they look forward to the next match up. They size up their opponent. They strengthen what is already working for them and make adjustments to what isn't, and before too long guess what? The momentum shifts, and they are back in the winning column.
In my journey to launching my vision, I get pretty frustrated when my own forward progress slows and stalls out. I will be cruising along, fired up and excited about letting this passion take hold of me, totally giddy about what is taking shape, when out of nowhere things just start to sputter... then cough... then choke... and finally completely stall in the middle of the road. Kinda like the first time I tried to drive a stick shift, minus the super colorful language and angry tears. How that old VW didn't just blow up and eject me, I will never know. Eventually and with some great coaching, I did finally figure out how to master a 5-speed and a whole new world opened up for me. No more rolling backwards on a hill or freaking out every stop light. Same is true for moving my passion forward despite whatever external forces come into play; momentum, baby, momentum!
Friday, January 14, 2011
Launching a Vision, Pt. 1- Vision Busters
When it comes to launching a vision, what exactly prevents a person from taking their next steps? Is it tangible, imagined, or some potentially lethal combination of Vision Busters?
Fear of failure, insecurity/self-doubt, or a general sense of being totally clueless about how to bring something to life outside of your own head can be paralyzing and can quench the fire to do something visionary. I know that in my own little head-space, there is always a dialogue between my Creative Confident Self and my Are-You-Nuts-This-Will-Never-Work Self. For the record, that second version of self pretty much sucks and is absolutely no fun to be around. I try to send her on extended vacations as often as possible just so I can have some peace. Thinking of sending her to space with that crazy guy that started Virgin.
OK, so how to combat these vision-busters and keep moving forward in faith that the thing God has placed in my heart is something worth exploring?
1. Talk about it. I have a handful of actual, live friends who like me enough to listen to my ideas and give me honest feedback. I treasure their opinions and experience, so when this thing started to take shape and excite me I wanted to share it with them. It's been good to hear varying perspectives as well as encouragement from different sources. Also, in the process of trying to articulate a vision, I find that I am able to help the thing take a more recognizable shape. It's cool.
2. Write it out. Thank God for blogging. Much like being able to share face-to-face with a few people, being able to share with an extended circle through the semi-anonymity of an online forum is really helpful. Writing has always been a vehicle for me to refine and express thoughts and emotions (hello, bad poetry!) and to just try and make sense of and process the world around me and within me. Taking the critiques, questions and challenges of people I've shared this particular vision with has been tremendously helpful in putting thoughts to paper.
3. Research. Making the time to do some research just makes sense. For me, it is the first measurable step forward. It says, Yeah, I am serious about this. It also helps bring a vision up to real-world, practical status as opposed to glossy, etheral mind-fluff. A little research helps to steer the vision and put it on a trajectory for actualization.
4. Keep Moving Forward. I cannot overstate the importance of this. There are days when I feel so beat down and useless that trying to imagine bringing a vision to life is about as likely as pulling a monkey out of my ass. On those days, I just try to roll with it. I know that "this too shall pass" and I will be back on track in short order. Resting is fine, but quitting is just not an option. If it means that I need to find a way to dig deeper, to find out what is making me block my progress, then I go back to step 1 and talk to those people I trust the most and know that they will inevitably shed some light on the problem. And when they do, I pick up where I left off and start moving forward again.
So there you have it. I look forward to sharing the journey with you all. :)
Fear of failure, insecurity/self-doubt, or a general sense of being totally clueless about how to bring something to life outside of your own head can be paralyzing and can quench the fire to do something visionary. I know that in my own little head-space, there is always a dialogue between my Creative Confident Self and my Are-You-Nuts-This-Will-Never-Work Self. For the record, that second version of self pretty much sucks and is absolutely no fun to be around. I try to send her on extended vacations as often as possible just so I can have some peace. Thinking of sending her to space with that crazy guy that started Virgin.
OK, so how to combat these vision-busters and keep moving forward in faith that the thing God has placed in my heart is something worth exploring?
1. Talk about it. I have a handful of actual, live friends who like me enough to listen to my ideas and give me honest feedback. I treasure their opinions and experience, so when this thing started to take shape and excite me I wanted to share it with them. It's been good to hear varying perspectives as well as encouragement from different sources. Also, in the process of trying to articulate a vision, I find that I am able to help the thing take a more recognizable shape. It's cool.
2. Write it out. Thank God for blogging. Much like being able to share face-to-face with a few people, being able to share with an extended circle through the semi-anonymity of an online forum is really helpful. Writing has always been a vehicle for me to refine and express thoughts and emotions (hello, bad poetry!) and to just try and make sense of and process the world around me and within me. Taking the critiques, questions and challenges of people I've shared this particular vision with has been tremendously helpful in putting thoughts to paper.
3. Research. Making the time to do some research just makes sense. For me, it is the first measurable step forward. It says, Yeah, I am serious about this. It also helps bring a vision up to real-world, practical status as opposed to glossy, etheral mind-fluff. A little research helps to steer the vision and put it on a trajectory for actualization.
4. Keep Moving Forward. I cannot overstate the importance of this. There are days when I feel so beat down and useless that trying to imagine bringing a vision to life is about as likely as pulling a monkey out of my ass. On those days, I just try to roll with it. I know that "this too shall pass" and I will be back on track in short order. Resting is fine, but quitting is just not an option. If it means that I need to find a way to dig deeper, to find out what is making me block my progress, then I go back to step 1 and talk to those people I trust the most and know that they will inevitably shed some light on the problem. And when they do, I pick up where I left off and start moving forward again.
So there you have it. I look forward to sharing the journey with you all. :)
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Launching a Vision, Pt. 1
New Year, New Me. First Day of the Rest of My Life. Resolutions, Goal-Setting, Mid-Life Crisis. Living My Legacy. OMG-what-the-hell-am-I-doing???
I don't want to sound like a braggard, but coming up with catchy (and let's be honest, cheesy) slogans and pithy phrases isn't an area where I find myself lacking. Neither is coming up with ideas. I have what seems like an endless supply of ideas of various sizes and values-- Big, Little, Clever, Ridiculous, Romantic, Fun, Spontaneous, Mischieveous, Improbable, Illogical, Mediocre and Marvelous. Just try getting through a staff meeting with me! I love brainstorming and I love being around creative people, people who push me to think in new ways and aren't all about squashing the light within. So what do you do when you have something start to bubble up inside you that is better than an idea, bigger than a dream, and bolder than anything you've ever claimed as your own? I'm talking about a bona-fide vision... a big, scary, ridiculous, romantic, improbable, marvelous and wonderful vision.
Catch this email that I shared with a colleague and trusted friend about a year ago. It's a snippet of the vision I've been harboring and timidly sharing with a few trusted friends over the past so many years:
... I always appreciate talking about things with you because it reminds me to think deeper and reach farther. It’s easy to forget that in the day-to-day.
I probably showed this to you once upon a time but THIS is what I really want to do: WE Teams. Women’s Empowerment (“WE”) Teams would partner women’s groups here in the U.S. with women in Kenya (and beyond) to create opportunities for education, economic stability, social justice and equality. WE Teams would be long-term global relationships that start with seed money for a variety of projects that would become self-sustaining. It’s something that has been a vision for years and years, before I ever became involved with Tumaini, and just never knew how/where/when.
Anyway, I know that it is the direction I want to go and what I want my life to be about. I don’t know how/where/when but I do know that God will open the right doors for me at the right time, and my job is to just keep moving forward and not lose the vision.
"My job is to just keep moving forward and not lose the vision." I feel like finally, FINALLY, I am finding myself in a place where I am ready to do more than just keep moving forward. I need to move forward with a purpose and a plan. It's time now to pack the parachute, strap in, and get on the plane. Vision Airlines is now boarding...
I don't want to sound like a braggard, but coming up with catchy (and let's be honest, cheesy) slogans and pithy phrases isn't an area where I find myself lacking. Neither is coming up with ideas. I have what seems like an endless supply of ideas of various sizes and values-- Big, Little, Clever, Ridiculous, Romantic, Fun, Spontaneous, Mischieveous, Improbable, Illogical, Mediocre and Marvelous. Just try getting through a staff meeting with me! I love brainstorming and I love being around creative people, people who push me to think in new ways and aren't all about squashing the light within. So what do you do when you have something start to bubble up inside you that is better than an idea, bigger than a dream, and bolder than anything you've ever claimed as your own? I'm talking about a bona-fide vision... a big, scary, ridiculous, romantic, improbable, marvelous and wonderful vision.
Catch this email that I shared with a colleague and trusted friend about a year ago. It's a snippet of the vision I've been harboring and timidly sharing with a few trusted friends over the past so many years:
... I always appreciate talking about things with you because it reminds me to think deeper and reach farther. It’s easy to forget that in the day-to-day.
I probably showed this to you once upon a time but THIS is what I really want to do: WE Teams. Women’s Empowerment (“WE”) Teams would partner women’s groups here in the U.S. with women in Kenya (and beyond) to create opportunities for education, economic stability, social justice and equality. WE Teams would be long-term global relationships that start with seed money for a variety of projects that would become self-sustaining. It’s something that has been a vision for years and years, before I ever became involved with Tumaini, and just never knew how/where/when.
Anyway, I know that it is the direction I want to go and what I want my life to be about. I don’t know how/where/when but I do know that God will open the right doors for me at the right time, and my job is to just keep moving forward and not lose the vision.
"My job is to just keep moving forward and not lose the vision." I feel like finally, FINALLY, I am finding myself in a place where I am ready to do more than just keep moving forward. I need to move forward with a purpose and a plan. It's time now to pack the parachute, strap in, and get on the plane. Vision Airlines is now boarding...
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