Distrust

I don't think there is anymore more frustrating than to work for someone who doesn't trust your work.

I'll be the first person to admit that I'm human.  I'm not perfect.  I make mistakes.  But there is a difference between checking my work and just telling me what needs fixed, and finding errors but being condescending when you relay them to me.

Every time you do this, you cut me down a little further.  I lose the motivation to keep going.  I lose the belief that I can.  I'm half of what I could be, if you just trusted me a little more.

Promises

I love the symbolism of rainbows.

A sign of promise in the sky usually following a storm.

I get "rainbows" sometimes.  A reminder that God has a plan, that God has promised to lead me somewhere.  When life is hard, when I'm not even on Plan B anymore--but plan F or G, when all I can do is cry, God gives me "rainbows".  Not always the colorful arc in the sky--but just as meaningful.

What I love even more about rainbows, I learned in college.  Rainbows always form in a circle.  To be able to see the whole circle you'd need to be in a plane above the water droplets with the sun on your back.  I obviously don't get that view very often, but it doesn't matter.  Just knowing that a rainbow forms in a circle, instead of just an arc, makes it even more meaningful. Sort of like the symbolism in a wedding ring with no beginning and no end. There is no end to God's promises.

That's the shadow of the airplane in the middle of the rainbow.

God's promises don't all come at once either.  We don't get to see the whole circle very often.  We get to see a snippet.  A reminder of what He has promised His people. What He has promised us.

Those reminders have a tendency to ground me.  They help me to appreciate the blessings in my life.  They give me hope that I can make it through the next stretch.  They pull me closer to God.

There really is nothing better than a rainbow.

Today

I am having the worst time focusing today.

My mind is elsewhere.  Far, far away.  Wishing it were already Friday afternoon.

This is going to be the longest week ever.

Follow

This is really cool.

And so is this.

God in an Apron

Reflecting tonight on what Good Friday means.  The magnitude of the sacrifice.  Jesus' servant attitude as an example of how we should live.  I'm overwhelmed with the meaning of this day in history.  More so, I'm irrevocably changed because of God's deep love for us.  He chose us.  He values us.  He loves us.  What more is there?

God in an Apron
By Macrina Wiederkehr

Supper was special that night
There was both a heaviness and a holiness hanging in the air
We couldn't explain the mood
It was sacred, yet sorrowful.
Gathered around that table
Eating that solemn, holy meal
seemed to use the most important meal
we had ever sat down to eat.

We were dwelling in the heart of mystery
Though dark the night
Hope felt right
As if something evil was about to be conquered.

And then suddenly
the One we loved started us all
He got up from the table
and put on an apron.
Can you imagine how we felt?

God in an apron!

Tenderness encircled us as He bowed before us.
He knelt and said, "I choose to wash your feet because I love you."

God in an apron, kneeling
I couldn't believe my eyes.
I was embarassed until His eyes met mine
I sensed my value then.
He touched my feet
He held them in His strong, brown hands
He washed them
I can still feel the water
I can still feel the touch of His hands.
I can still see the look in His eyes.

Middle School

Last night I visited the middle school group at my church.

Let me set you straight.  I work with high school kids, not middle school.  Walking into a room swarming with 6-8th graders was slightly terrifying.  My immediate thought was that I don't ever remember being that small... middle schoolers must be getting shorter or something.  My next thought was wondering what I had gotten myself into--they had SO much energy! 

As I sat there, listening and observing, I started to flash back to my time in middle school.

I have yet to meet a person who liked middle school, who felt like they fit in, who didn't feel incredibly awkward, or who would love to go back and repeat that time in life.  And while you couldn't pay me to go back to middle school, I can now see things from then that I couldn't see before.

1. I learned "community" in middle school.  For the first time in my life I dug into my church, planted myself there for several years, and made a serious effort to get to know people.  Even though I was only in middle school, I found the elusive "community" that I didn't even know I was searching for at the time.  I spent more time at church in middle school than I spent at home, and I wouldn't have changed that.

2. I learned how volunteering and service fill me up.  I gave of myself to serve and support others and I loved it.  Not just in a "I'm happy to help" kind of way, but a soul-deep, "this is what I was created to do" kind of way.  I was fortunate to attend a church that believed that middle schoolers could play a big role in volunteering--I taught a 3's class when I was 13.  I had helpers and everything.  Looking back on it now, it's hard to believe that they would allow a 13 year old to run a class by themselves--but I'm forever impacted that they did.

3. I learned how to be a leader.  I learned how to use my God-given gifts early on.  I was given the opportunity to grow in a leadership role.  To run a Sunday School class on my own.  To be a part of the leadership team for the junior-high youth group.  To be involved in the planning phases of VBSs and other Children's Ministry events.  I rose to the challenge--because that's what I was created to do.

When I switched churches after middle school I felt adrift.  I didn't feel plugged in during high school.  I felt purposeless in college.  After college I tried to remember the last time I felt "happy" or "joyful" or "purposeful", and I always came up with middle school.  Despite going to three different junior-high schools, with kids I didn't know and who didn't like me, I still felt alive.  I knew who I was, I was confident in what I was doing, and I was within God's blessings.  I wanted the secret to getting back to that place.  How did I ever wander away?

I learned more about myself in middle school than I ever realized at the time.  I found myself, my purpose, my calling--all in junior high.  What a pivotal time to impact a kids life.  Absolutely life transformational.

Thankfully I was able to realize some of those key things and get back to that place again, finally.  A place where I feel completely alive.  Where I know who I am and what I have been created to do.  There's absolutely nothing better.

The bio-hazard in my backyard

I always imagined finding something really cool buried somewhere.  Money, a time capsule, or something else equally awesome.  I'm not that lucky.  Seriously, I'm not.

A little over a week ago I set to weed my backyard (a little ambitious, but I was feeling strangely motivated at the time).  I saw something plastic buried in the backyard, so I started digging it out.  At one point I was actually optimistic about what I would find.

Nothing good.  Nothing fun.  Absolutely nothing worth finding in your backyard.

I found two full sharps containers full of used needles and probably at least a hundred loose ones below the containers.  SIGH.

My roommate came out.  I acquiesced and stopped digging.  We called the non-emergency police number.  The fire department came to check it out.

I stood there more in disbelief than anything else.  This house-buying experience is one or two stories away from being book-writing worthy.  One of the firemen said I looked familiar.... probably because I seem to interact with the police/fire department/etc. much more regularly than necessary.  At least I'm getting a return on the money I have been paying into city services.

The fire department couldn't take the containers.  They told me that it was officially a "bio-hazard".   They gave me the number of Dept of Environmental Quality (DEQ) to contact.  That journey involved numerous phone calls, more digging in my backyard, the purchase of several sharps containers from Walgreens to contain the loose needles (P.S. I felt like a druggie at this point), handling those dumb needles at least four times each, and a mid-morning pick-up from an environmental waste company. 

My bio-hazard is officially gone.  Thank goodness.

The picture of a garden always seems most fitting when you talk about weeding out the trouble areas in life, pulling those issues out by the roots so they don't strangle the "good-plant's" growth.  I couldn't help but think of the applicable analogy with my lovely sharpes containers.

With enough motivation to weed all day long, I set out to weed the garden.  I found something that I knew didn't belong, so I started digging it up.  It turned out to be something that didn't belong in the garden at all.  Something I couldn't avoid.  Something I couldn't just cover up and forget about.  I had to dig it up, I had to call and find out what to do with it, I had to be proactive.  It was a lot of work.  A lot of energy.  A lot of unnecessary frustration, but for my garden to be healthy, it had to be done.

Sometimes I disillusion myself into believing that the only thing I need to do is find that container and all is well.  Except, once you find that place you have to dig it up completely and remove all the vestiges.  This is no time to be halfhearted.  There is more effort and hard-work required in dealing with the problem than in finding it. 

A good reminder for the healing process.