So I was blog stalking this evening. Looking for inspiration. Bored with my own life, ready to read about others? Just a quite night at the DC home. Tuesdays tend to be the worst on the hubby gone front.
I came across this post. I do not know this writer, but I wish I did. I very much related. Pretty amazing that you can have fellowship and not even know someone.
Read this post, "Whisper Seekers".
I am there. Glad to know others are there as well.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Catch up.
Hi.
It has been awhile. I have thought of you. I even wrote, but then never entered "publish". Just didn't feel inspired I suppose. Sometimes even I wrote and it felt depressing, and I didn't want to be debbie downer. And I haven't been depressed, so didn't want to reflect a mood that wasn't accurate.
Let's see how to catch you up. Everything has been good. Steady. Stable. Not too glamorous sounding? That is true. Not a complaint, though.
June was busy. I got to explore Pittsburgh for a work training. It wasn't great. I felt like I should have been in a sitcom. Something about being trapped in an industrial park hotel with co-workers and doing "self defense" (well, really it was termed comprehensive crisis management for the mentally ill). That sounds like I am mentally ill, and while I might have my moments, the purpose was to teach ME how to deal with crisis situations and then to go back to our agency and teach some "escape" moves. Like for example, if someone gets you on the ground, is punching you in the face, you thrust your hips up to maneuver them off. But what if the person is in between your legs, on top of you and punching you in the face? Ah ha, then you wrap your legs around their legs, spread their legs apart, THEN thrust your hips, unwrap one of your legs (for leverage) and then hoist the person off. Oh and of course, you should be screaming like hell for help. Always yell. I mean, it can't hurt, right? So, yes, I have some moves now. And I did have to practice this with my co-worker and we actually led the training for new hires at our agency last week. Hilarious? Yes. Luckily, I have learned the great and needed ability to laugh at myself. And to let others laugh at me (new hires watching my co-worker straddle me and I try to get him off?!).
So, June started out with Pittsburgh. It ended with Florida family vacation. We had a lovely time and truly felt off the radar from work and life here in the city. It felt nice to be with so much family. We are pretty isolated and independent up here with our life and work and just being together. Sometimes I forget that we are not alone and isolated, we have SO many people in our lives. They just don't happen to live super close. It was nice to feel known, loved, cared about to be around people who know me not from Community Connections and life here, but true "Heather" and "Jonathan". Sometimes, I forget that I have value for just being me. I don't have to "do" anything for value. It can be hard to remember when I feel like we continue to work, work, work. And work culture in general (everywhere) means you do something and that equals value. It was refreshing!
Now, its July. And June somehow feels far away. This past weekend we went to the beach boys concert at Wolftrap, a very cool, outdoor national park venue. It was blazing HOT. Like a heat index (which I don't really know what that means, but it sounds more dramatic) of 110. So, we are literally baking at the concert, but how can one be unhappy with the Beach Boys playing live and a full cooler of ice cold drinks? Growing up, I think the only CD my Dad owned was the Beach Boys greatest hits, so needless, to say we listened to it quite a lot. Good memories and nostalgia. And with a relaxed Jonathan and some good friends. As we were baking in the sun, it suddenly cooled off. Soon, it was POURING down rain with gusting winds and all. We were making a mad dash to the car, holding blankets, coolers, bags, it was hilarious. I haven't laughed that hard in genuine joy in a long time. It was lovely. Organic joy from pouring rain, falling in the mud and sharing the moment with friends. I still feel joyful thinking about it.
I hope you all can find some joy like that this week. Even if it means mud on your clothes, an unplanned "wet t-shirt" party and some smeared mascara.
Hopefully, I will be back again. Sooner rather than later.
It has been awhile. I have thought of you. I even wrote, but then never entered "publish". Just didn't feel inspired I suppose. Sometimes even I wrote and it felt depressing, and I didn't want to be debbie downer. And I haven't been depressed, so didn't want to reflect a mood that wasn't accurate.
Let's see how to catch you up. Everything has been good. Steady. Stable. Not too glamorous sounding? That is true. Not a complaint, though.
June was busy. I got to explore Pittsburgh for a work training. It wasn't great. I felt like I should have been in a sitcom. Something about being trapped in an industrial park hotel with co-workers and doing "self defense" (well, really it was termed comprehensive crisis management for the mentally ill). That sounds like I am mentally ill, and while I might have my moments, the purpose was to teach ME how to deal with crisis situations and then to go back to our agency and teach some "escape" moves. Like for example, if someone gets you on the ground, is punching you in the face, you thrust your hips up to maneuver them off. But what if the person is in between your legs, on top of you and punching you in the face? Ah ha, then you wrap your legs around their legs, spread their legs apart, THEN thrust your hips, unwrap one of your legs (for leverage) and then hoist the person off. Oh and of course, you should be screaming like hell for help. Always yell. I mean, it can't hurt, right? So, yes, I have some moves now. And I did have to practice this with my co-worker and we actually led the training for new hires at our agency last week. Hilarious? Yes. Luckily, I have learned the great and needed ability to laugh at myself. And to let others laugh at me (new hires watching my co-worker straddle me and I try to get him off?!).
So, June started out with Pittsburgh. It ended with Florida family vacation. We had a lovely time and truly felt off the radar from work and life here in the city. It felt nice to be with so much family. We are pretty isolated and independent up here with our life and work and just being together. Sometimes I forget that we are not alone and isolated, we have SO many people in our lives. They just don't happen to live super close. It was nice to feel known, loved, cared about to be around people who know me not from Community Connections and life here, but true "Heather" and "Jonathan". Sometimes, I forget that I have value for just being me. I don't have to "do" anything for value. It can be hard to remember when I feel like we continue to work, work, work. And work culture in general (everywhere) means you do something and that equals value. It was refreshing!
Now, its July. And June somehow feels far away. This past weekend we went to the beach boys concert at Wolftrap, a very cool, outdoor national park venue. It was blazing HOT. Like a heat index (which I don't really know what that means, but it sounds more dramatic) of 110. So, we are literally baking at the concert, but how can one be unhappy with the Beach Boys playing live and a full cooler of ice cold drinks? Growing up, I think the only CD my Dad owned was the Beach Boys greatest hits, so needless, to say we listened to it quite a lot. Good memories and nostalgia. And with a relaxed Jonathan and some good friends. As we were baking in the sun, it suddenly cooled off. Soon, it was POURING down rain with gusting winds and all. We were making a mad dash to the car, holding blankets, coolers, bags, it was hilarious. I haven't laughed that hard in genuine joy in a long time. It was lovely. Organic joy from pouring rain, falling in the mud and sharing the moment with friends. I still feel joyful thinking about it.
I hope you all can find some joy like that this week. Even if it means mud on your clothes, an unplanned "wet t-shirt" party and some smeared mascara.
Hopefully, I will be back again. Sooner rather than later.
Monday, May 24, 2010
A few moments for increased self esteem...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qR3rK0kZFkg
Ladies, we should all start our day like this lil' sweetheart!
Ladies, we should all start our day like this lil' sweetheart!
choices. and being a woman.
As I get closer to 30, "settle" into marriage with greater contentment and comfort, continue to pay the morgage, and gain quiet satisfaction with the mundane parts of life, I often struggle with questions of children, family, career and how to know the answer to so many unknowns. It feels like we are on the cusp of so many huge decisions and we are paralyzed because we don't even know how to start in such decisions. And we aren't super restless to end "life as we know it" either, so timing and knowing "when" kids might come into the scene are big questions. I was able to spend a weekend away with my dearest friends. Girls who I have literally grown up with from Orlando. We are now in all different cities, with careers, husbands and all the responsibilities of "grown up" life with dogs, bills, in-laws, etc. No kids yet in our "girl's group" though so I was comforted to hear my dear friends also struggling with such questions and not sure how to go forward and what that will look like in life. I am not alone!
Being a woman is complicated. I want to have a career. I love my job. I also want to be a great mom. So how does that work? Will it come to be if I am pregnant? Will it come to me if I see my baby born? Or do I try to work and see what that is like? Can I do it all? Is that what God wants for my family? Or do I pick one or the other? Or do I not try to figure it all out...Haha, probably!
A friend sent me this article and it truly hit home. I "know" this cognitively but it was a powerful reminder of the only satisfaction I will find.
The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness
Mary A. Kassian
Why are women so unhappy?
In 1963, Journalist and political activist Betty Friedan published a book that was the catalyst behind the women's movement in the United States. It was the book that "pulled the trigger on history." Friedan had conducted a questionnaire with the women gathered at her 15 year college reunion. She concluded that although these women were doing everything that society said would bring them happiness - that is, getting and staying married, staying home to raise kids, cooking meals and cleaning house, homemaking and home decorating, volunteering - that there were hints of dissatisfaction lingering beneath the surface of their picture-perfect lives. Her question was, "Why are women so unhappy?"
Friedan called the unhappiness of women "the problem that has no name." She pointed her finger at the male-female relationship and theorized that it was to blame. If only woman could leave the traditional role of homemaker behind, be educated and participate in the workplace on the same basis as man, be free to express herself sexually without any restraints, and have society free her from the burden of bearing and caring for children, THEN she would be happy. If woman could dictate the rules, then she and the whole of society would be much better off ... and woman's unhappiness would fade like a garishly patterned cotton drape under the touch of the summer sun.
"The problem lay buried, unspoken, for many years in the minds of American women. It was a strange stirring, a sense of dissatisfaction, a yearning that women suffered in the middle of the twentieth century in the United States. Each suburban wife struggled with it alone. As she made the beds, shopped for groceries, matched slipcover material, ate peanut butter sandwiches with her children, chauffeured Cub Scouts and brownies, lay beside her husband at night - she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question - "Is this all?"...
If I am right, the problem that has no name stirring in the minds of so many American women today is not a matter of loss of femininity or too much education, or the demands of domesticity. It is far more important than anyone recognizes. It is the key to these other new and old problems which have been torturing women and their husbands and children, and puzzling their doctors and educators for years. It may well be the key to our future as a nation and a culture. We can no longer ignore that voice within women that says: "I want something more than my husband and my children and my home."
Women must stretch and stretch until their own efforts will tell them who they are. They will not need the regard of boy or man to feel alive. And when women do not need to live through their husbands and children... this may be the next step in human evolution.
Who know what women can be when they are finally free to become themselves?... It has barely begun, the search of women for themselves. But the time is at hand when the voices of the feminine mystique can no longer drown out the inner voice that is driving women on to become complete."
-Betty Friedan, 1963
All of Friedan's goals for women have been achieved. As Susan Etheridge, for the New York Times notes, "American women are wealthier, healthier and better educated than they were at that time. They're more likely to work outside the home, and more likely to earn salaries comparable to men's when they do. They can leave abusive marriages and sue sexist employers. They enjoy unprecedented control over their own fertility. On some fronts - graduation rates, life expectancy and even job security -men look increasingly like the second sex."
But ironically, feminism's quest for women's happiness has only resulted in a greater level of unhappiness for women. In the sixties, when Betty Friedan diagnosed her fellow wives and daughters as the victims of "the problem with no name," American women reported themselves happier, on average, than did men. Today, that statistic has reversed. Male happiness has inched up, while female happiness has declined. In postfeminist America, men are happier than women.
This is "The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness," the subject of a provocative paper published earlier this month by economists Betsey Stevenson and Justin Wolfers. The authors are perplexed about the incongruity between how much women's lives have objectively improved, and how happy they subjectively feel.
By most objective measures the lives of women in the United States have improved dramatically over the past 35 years. Moreover, women believe that their lives are better; in recent polls asking about changes in the status of women over the past 25 or 50 years, around four in five adults state that the overall status of women in the U.S. has gotten better.... Additionally, the 1999 Virginia Slims Poll found that 72% of women believe that "women having more choices in society today gives women more opportunities to be happy" while only 39% thought that having more choices "makes life more complicated for women." Finally, women today are more likely than men to believe that their opportunities to succeed exceed those of their parents.
Yet trends in self-reported subjective well-being indicate that happiness has shifted toward men and away from women. ... This finding of a decline in women's well-being relative to that of men raises questions about whether modern social constructs have made women worse off... Rather than immediately inferring that the women's movement failed to improve the lot of women, we conclude with ... alternative explanations of this paradox.
The authors begrudgingly admit that feminism could have something to do with the declining rates of happiness for women: "The changes brought about through the women's movement may have decreased women's happiness." But they argue that this is only because " The increased opportunity to succeed in many dimensions may have led to an increased likelihood of believing that one's life is not measuring up...Or women may simply find the complexity and increased pressure in their modern lives to have come at the cost of happiness." They also propose that women may now feel more comfortable being honest about their true happiness and have thus deflated their previously inflated responses. Or, that the increased opportunities available to women may have increased what women require to declare themselves happy.
In the end, they just scratch their heads about the whole thing. They can't understand why feminism didn't deliver the happiness it promised. It pumped its best medicine into woman's veins, but somehow, it just exacerbated the disease.
C.S. Lewis once said, "What does not satisfy when we find it, was not the thing we were desiring."
Feminism's attempt to increase the happiness of woman by having woman control and dictate the terms of her own happiness was doomed to fail.
"God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about His ways. God cannot give us a happiness and peace aprt from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing."Â (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)
Women can "stretch and stretch," but their own efforts will never "tell them who they are." The real paradox about female happiness is that though she might try, woman will never be able to make herself happy. Nor will men make woman happy. Nor will children, career, prominence, possessions, lifestyle...nor anything else that woman might strive after. Apart from a right relationship with God through Jesus Christ as the rock-solid foundation of joy, woman will never find what she is looking for. Without a vibrant personal relationship with Christ, she will forever ask herself Friedan's painful silent question - "Is this all?"
Being a woman is complicated. I want to have a career. I love my job. I also want to be a great mom. So how does that work? Will it come to be if I am pregnant? Will it come to me if I see my baby born? Or do I try to work and see what that is like? Can I do it all? Is that what God wants for my family? Or do I pick one or the other? Or do I not try to figure it all out...Haha, probably!
A friend sent me this article and it truly hit home. I "know" this cognitively but it was a powerful reminder of the only satisfaction I will find.
The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness
Mary A. Kassian
Why are women so unhappy?
In 1963, Journalist and political activist Betty Friedan published a book that was the catalyst behind the women's movement in the United States. It was the book that "pulled the trigger on history." Friedan had conducted a questionnaire with the women gathered at her 15 year college reunion. She concluded that although these women were doing everything that society said would bring them happiness - that is, getting and staying married, staying home to raise kids, cooking meals and cleaning house, homemaking and home decorating, volunteering - that there were hints of dissatisfaction lingering beneath the surface of their picture-perfect lives. Her question was, "Why are women so unhappy?"
Friedan called the unhappiness of women "the problem that has no name." She pointed her finger at the male-female relationship and theorized that it was to blame. If only woman could leave the traditional role of homemaker behind, be educated and participate in the workplace on the same basis as man, be free to express herself sexually without any restraints, and have society free her from the burden of bearing and caring for children, THEN she would be happy. If woman could dictate the rules, then she and the whole of society would be much better off ... and woman's unhappiness would fade like a garishly patterned cotton drape under the touch of the summer sun.
"The problem lay buried, unspoken, for many years in the minds of American women. It was a strange stirring, a sense of dissatisfaction, a yearning that women suffered in the middle of the twentieth century in the United States. Each suburban wife struggled with it alone. As she made the beds, shopped for groceries, matched slipcover material, ate peanut butter sandwiches with her children, chauffeured Cub Scouts and brownies, lay beside her husband at night - she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question - "Is this all?"...
If I am right, the problem that has no name stirring in the minds of so many American women today is not a matter of loss of femininity or too much education, or the demands of domesticity. It is far more important than anyone recognizes. It is the key to these other new and old problems which have been torturing women and their husbands and children, and puzzling their doctors and educators for years. It may well be the key to our future as a nation and a culture. We can no longer ignore that voice within women that says: "I want something more than my husband and my children and my home."
Women must stretch and stretch until their own efforts will tell them who they are. They will not need the regard of boy or man to feel alive. And when women do not need to live through their husbands and children... this may be the next step in human evolution.
Who know what women can be when they are finally free to become themselves?... It has barely begun, the search of women for themselves. But the time is at hand when the voices of the feminine mystique can no longer drown out the inner voice that is driving women on to become complete."
-Betty Friedan, 1963
All of Friedan's goals for women have been achieved. As Susan Etheridge, for the New York Times notes, "American women are wealthier, healthier and better educated than they were at that time. They're more likely to work outside the home, and more likely to earn salaries comparable to men's when they do. They can leave abusive marriages and sue sexist employers. They enjoy unprecedented control over their own fertility. On some fronts - graduation rates, life expectancy and even job security -men look increasingly like the second sex."
But ironically, feminism's quest for women's happiness has only resulted in a greater level of unhappiness for women. In the sixties, when Betty Friedan diagnosed her fellow wives and daughters as the victims of "the problem with no name," American women reported themselves happier, on average, than did men. Today, that statistic has reversed. Male happiness has inched up, while female happiness has declined. In postfeminist America, men are happier than women.
This is "The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness," the subject of a provocative paper published earlier this month by economists Betsey Stevenson and Justin Wolfers. The authors are perplexed about the incongruity between how much women's lives have objectively improved, and how happy they subjectively feel.
By most objective measures the lives of women in the United States have improved dramatically over the past 35 years. Moreover, women believe that their lives are better; in recent polls asking about changes in the status of women over the past 25 or 50 years, around four in five adults state that the overall status of women in the U.S. has gotten better.... Additionally, the 1999 Virginia Slims Poll found that 72% of women believe that "women having more choices in society today gives women more opportunities to be happy" while only 39% thought that having more choices "makes life more complicated for women." Finally, women today are more likely than men to believe that their opportunities to succeed exceed those of their parents.
Yet trends in self-reported subjective well-being indicate that happiness has shifted toward men and away from women. ... This finding of a decline in women's well-being relative to that of men raises questions about whether modern social constructs have made women worse off... Rather than immediately inferring that the women's movement failed to improve the lot of women, we conclude with ... alternative explanations of this paradox.
The authors begrudgingly admit that feminism could have something to do with the declining rates of happiness for women: "The changes brought about through the women's movement may have decreased women's happiness." But they argue that this is only because " The increased opportunity to succeed in many dimensions may have led to an increased likelihood of believing that one's life is not measuring up...Or women may simply find the complexity and increased pressure in their modern lives to have come at the cost of happiness." They also propose that women may now feel more comfortable being honest about their true happiness and have thus deflated their previously inflated responses. Or, that the increased opportunities available to women may have increased what women require to declare themselves happy.
In the end, they just scratch their heads about the whole thing. They can't understand why feminism didn't deliver the happiness it promised. It pumped its best medicine into woman's veins, but somehow, it just exacerbated the disease.
C.S. Lewis once said, "What does not satisfy when we find it, was not the thing we were desiring."
Feminism's attempt to increase the happiness of woman by having woman control and dictate the terms of her own happiness was doomed to fail.
"God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about His ways. God cannot give us a happiness and peace aprt from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing."Â (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)
Women can "stretch and stretch," but their own efforts will never "tell them who they are." The real paradox about female happiness is that though she might try, woman will never be able to make herself happy. Nor will men make woman happy. Nor will children, career, prominence, possessions, lifestyle...nor anything else that woman might strive after. Apart from a right relationship with God through Jesus Christ as the rock-solid foundation of joy, woman will never find what she is looking for. Without a vibrant personal relationship with Christ, she will forever ask herself Friedan's painful silent question - "Is this all?"
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
lighten up a bit.
I "borrowed" this from my friend, Jonnali's blog,
Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.
-Pablo Picasso
Then I read this,
Let's just anticipate that we (all of us) will disappoint ourselves somehow in the decade to come. Go ahead and let it happen. Let somebody else be a better mother than you for one afternoon. Let somebody else go to art school. Let somebody else have a happy marriage, while you foolishly pick the wrong guy. (Hell, I've done it; it's survivable.) While you're at it, take the wrong job. Move to the wrong city. Lose your temper in front of the boss, quit training for that marathon, wolf down a truckload of cupcakes the day after you start your diet. Blow it all catastrophically, in fact, and then start over with good cheer. This is what we all must learn to do, for this is how maps get charted—by taking wrong turns that lead to surprising passageways that open into spectacularly unexpected new worlds. So just march on. Future generations will thank you—trust me—for showing the way, for beating brave new footpaths out of wonky old mistakes.
Fall flat on your face if you must, but please, for the sake of us all, do not stop.
(from http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Elizabeth-Gilbert-on-Failure-and-Living-Well/2).
Ahhh. Then some "Sex and the City: the Movie", happened to be on HBO (this made me laugh). Then I ate the rest of the pizza from dinner, that I was supposed to not eat tonight and save for lunch. And that was from the dinner, that I went to by myself, because I felt sad and hungry. This dinner replaced my running workout that was originally planned. I left the office at 7pm, instead of 5pm (hence, while I felt sad and just went to eat pizza, alone...).
So yes, I work hard, I feel like I squeeze the hell out of life because I want it all...not material things (although that is hard too) but ABUNDANT life, from my career, to relationships, to self discovery, to my walk with Christ, etc, etc. I'm not satisfied often. I've always spun this as a good thing, but I realize it is also a downfall. One time in an argument with my dear hubby, he was complaining that I was never satisfied and I "pushed, pushed, pushed'...I had to agree. But argued, yes, but that is good, I always want us to be working on having a better, more happy, more fulfilled marriage. And then he was like, well, yes, but what if all your pushing really makes it harder to even be happy in the first place and then we lose something we had already?
Yeah...Yikes. Don't you hate those moments when someone "gets" you but you didn't want that to happen. I was content with my outlook on my "pushiness" and not asking for a new perspective.
So...trying to chill out, lighten up and slow down. I think growing up, my parents taught me the world is at my fingertips and that I am capable of anything. This has been great. Really. I am confident and determined and want a lot out of everything, as noted. BUT what if I just need to slow down and not PANIC to think about, "what if I don't want to whole world but just what's right here?", or "what if I don't want to be everything and anything, but just who I am right now?....But then I feel conflicted between all the opportunity, choices and LIFE out there and I can't sit still, be calm and just BE.
Help!
Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.
-Pablo Picasso
Then I read this,
Let's just anticipate that we (all of us) will disappoint ourselves somehow in the decade to come. Go ahead and let it happen. Let somebody else be a better mother than you for one afternoon. Let somebody else go to art school. Let somebody else have a happy marriage, while you foolishly pick the wrong guy. (Hell, I've done it; it's survivable.) While you're at it, take the wrong job. Move to the wrong city. Lose your temper in front of the boss, quit training for that marathon, wolf down a truckload of cupcakes the day after you start your diet. Blow it all catastrophically, in fact, and then start over with good cheer. This is what we all must learn to do, for this is how maps get charted—by taking wrong turns that lead to surprising passageways that open into spectacularly unexpected new worlds. So just march on. Future generations will thank you—trust me—for showing the way, for beating brave new footpaths out of wonky old mistakes.
Fall flat on your face if you must, but please, for the sake of us all, do not stop.
(from http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Elizabeth-Gilbert-on-Failure-and-Living-Well/2).
Ahhh. Then some "Sex and the City: the Movie", happened to be on HBO (this made me laugh). Then I ate the rest of the pizza from dinner, that I was supposed to not eat tonight and save for lunch. And that was from the dinner, that I went to by myself, because I felt sad and hungry. This dinner replaced my running workout that was originally planned. I left the office at 7pm, instead of 5pm (hence, while I felt sad and just went to eat pizza, alone...).
So yes, I work hard, I feel like I squeeze the hell out of life because I want it all...not material things (although that is hard too) but ABUNDANT life, from my career, to relationships, to self discovery, to my walk with Christ, etc, etc. I'm not satisfied often. I've always spun this as a good thing, but I realize it is also a downfall. One time in an argument with my dear hubby, he was complaining that I was never satisfied and I "pushed, pushed, pushed'...I had to agree. But argued, yes, but that is good, I always want us to be working on having a better, more happy, more fulfilled marriage. And then he was like, well, yes, but what if all your pushing really makes it harder to even be happy in the first place and then we lose something we had already?
Yeah...Yikes. Don't you hate those moments when someone "gets" you but you didn't want that to happen. I was content with my outlook on my "pushiness" and not asking for a new perspective.
So...trying to chill out, lighten up and slow down. I think growing up, my parents taught me the world is at my fingertips and that I am capable of anything. This has been great. Really. I am confident and determined and want a lot out of everything, as noted. BUT what if I just need to slow down and not PANIC to think about, "what if I don't want to whole world but just what's right here?", or "what if I don't want to be everything and anything, but just who I am right now?....But then I feel conflicted between all the opportunity, choices and LIFE out there and I can't sit still, be calm and just BE.
Help!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
More Life.
My "African Dad", the man of the couple that I lived with in Kenya, almost 8 year ago, passed away. At his memorial service, one of the speakers said, where he is today is actually more real than where we are right now in this time and life. I liked that. While I thought about titling this post, "loss...and life". I decided on "more life". Because I do believe that on the "other side" it is more "real" than where we are now and our reality (which to us seems as real as can be) is really temporary and so messed up. Yet, since we are on this side of Heaven and eternity, we can't grasp it. We miss people who leave. But our missing is temporary. Time is funny. I hope I can maintain a perspective of this life, time slipping by, but meaning that I am closer to eternity, to "realness" and to use this life and days to be the hands and feet of Jesus. What else matters?
I haven't written much lately. I think its because I haven't felt "moved" by anything. Nothing has really "grabbed" me and shaken me, taken me, enlightened me, etc. Maybe its been my state. Perhaps, not open to new things? Or thoughts? Or convictions? Quite possible. Sometimes I feel hard to things. Other times like a permeable membrane, perhaps too open to everything thing/thought/idea passing my way. Both can be exhausting.
However, the passing of Dad Howell has "got" me. As a 20 year old college student, 8 years ago, the Lord was really turning my world upside down with my faith and bringing me to a new level. Shattering ideas I had or my view of faith...Showing me God worked in ways beyond my imagination, belief and reality. I had the conviction/leading/thought that I was going to go abroad somewhere in the summer. But not with a Christian group, or club. I didn't know what but presentations at FCA or Campus Crusade about mission trips abroad didn't feel "right". I waited. Then, my dear friends, Lauren and Caleb, went to a full gospel business men's luncheon in Gainesville. We had met a network of believers in Gainesville who believed in the fullness of the Holy Spirit and had an active ministry reaching out the the homeless, college student, suburban mom, to all in the community. Well, at this luncheon, two American missionaries were sharing about their ministry in Kenya. Meet Mom and Dad Howell. So, Lauren comes home to tell me about them, and we both "know" that this is it. This is my summer. I email the Howell's and through a series of emails and phone calls (and convincing of my parents- who as you can understand were not quite sure about me going to Kenya with two people I had never met, nor them, all alone, etc, etc), I am heading to Kenya, not knowing what to expect, but confident that God was leading me there and this was about to change my life, faith and well, me.
I get off the airplane in Nairobi, alone, unsure of what to expect, who I would meet and starting to think I might be insane, yet also excited and full of anticipation, and see Mom and Dad Howell in a huge crowd of Africans, holding up a sign with my name on it! From that moment, they felt like family. I spent the summer living with them, sharing life, watching, learning, absorbing and experiencing. That was my seminary. I wrestled with God each night in bed at all that was happening around me. Mom and Dad Howell loved me like a daughter. I've never seen such generosity, hospitality and the raw love of Christ. Talk about literally being the hands and feet of Jesus. Like there is no other purpose or reason to live. Whether we were traveling to have a crusade type ministry up in the rural mountains in Kenya, or we were in the slums of Nairobi, when I woke up in the morning, people were in the home, around the table, being served coffee by Mom, talking, sharing ,praying. Their ministry was loving people, sharing life, being with others. Meeting their needs through praying, loving, and again, being. They didn't have an orphanage or a big ministry in the US supporting them. But they had huge faith and faith that humans can't understand. When we would be getting low on groceries (and funds), we packed up the cabinets and delivered food to neighbors down the way, who were hungry. We'd pray for God's provision. In the morning, waiting at our door, was a bag of fresh vegetables, milk, eggs. I literally saw God provide. Not figuratively, but in the form of potatoes in a sack and even once a live chicken. Really?! Yes. I get chill bumps thinking about it because it was so real. God's presence was so tangible, it was thick in the air.
I could speak and tell of the miracles I saw in Kenya. Miracles like the blind seeing, the lame walking, and spirits being cast out. Yes, they were incredible. But miracles like loving a neighbor, showing hospitality to the unwanted, hugs to the smelly, and friendship to children were vast, all demonstrations of our Lord's love and friendship to His creation and kids. I don't think one miracle is better than another. Beyond a particular miracle, Mom and Dad Howell's passion for living life for eternal purposes has forever changed my life. While I'm not sure how to be "in but not of" this world, as I think they have been in their life, I know God has stretched my heart and ability to minister, love and have the Holy Spirit work through me (despite me) because of their example. I am different. Forever.
Throughout the past 8 years, Mom and Dad Howell have been in my life. They pray for me, advocate for me, call me, love me and encourage me. I remember seeing Dad (in the US) a few months after we'd gotten married. I felt down and some of the hardships of newly wedded "bliss" were heavy on my mind. I will always remember Dad listening but then saying, "Heather, when will I hear of your victories?" When would I claim and live the abundant life in which Christ died on the cross for me to live? Would I live my life in vain of all my Lord did for me on the cross?
Dad Howell preached this message to poor Africans in the hills of Kenya. To the Masai. In other places around the world. To his family and children (much who thought he was just a little too "extreme"). And to me, a 20 year old searching for the fullness of God but unsure of what that meant and scared to "see" because then I knew it was "no turning back". And throughout the past 8 years, as I've struggled, questioned, tried to "run back" but the promises of God keeping me...to give VICTORIES in Christ. Over this world. Over the Evil One. Over my flesh. And as I continue to run this race, full of obstacles, my own flesh, and this world which entices my every sense, I look towards Heaven. Towards MORE than this life. Because Jesus died for such life. Here and in life to come.
I am thankful to God for Mom and Dad Howell. As Dad Howell rests, his work in the name of Jesus continues because Kingdom work continues beyond our time here and I am confident that people will still be moved, changed and loved through Christ because of Dad Howell. In Africa. In Texas (where they are from) and wherever this gal shall go.
Then I heard a voice from heaven say, "Write: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on." "Yes," says the Spirit, "they will rest from their labor, for their deeds will follow them". -Revelation 14:13
I haven't written much lately. I think its because I haven't felt "moved" by anything. Nothing has really "grabbed" me and shaken me, taken me, enlightened me, etc. Maybe its been my state. Perhaps, not open to new things? Or thoughts? Or convictions? Quite possible. Sometimes I feel hard to things. Other times like a permeable membrane, perhaps too open to everything thing/thought/idea passing my way. Both can be exhausting.
However, the passing of Dad Howell has "got" me. As a 20 year old college student, 8 years ago, the Lord was really turning my world upside down with my faith and bringing me to a new level. Shattering ideas I had or my view of faith...Showing me God worked in ways beyond my imagination, belief and reality. I had the conviction/leading/thought that I was going to go abroad somewhere in the summer. But not with a Christian group, or club. I didn't know what but presentations at FCA or Campus Crusade about mission trips abroad didn't feel "right". I waited. Then, my dear friends, Lauren and Caleb, went to a full gospel business men's luncheon in Gainesville. We had met a network of believers in Gainesville who believed in the fullness of the Holy Spirit and had an active ministry reaching out the the homeless, college student, suburban mom, to all in the community. Well, at this luncheon, two American missionaries were sharing about their ministry in Kenya. Meet Mom and Dad Howell. So, Lauren comes home to tell me about them, and we both "know" that this is it. This is my summer. I email the Howell's and through a series of emails and phone calls (and convincing of my parents- who as you can understand were not quite sure about me going to Kenya with two people I had never met, nor them, all alone, etc, etc), I am heading to Kenya, not knowing what to expect, but confident that God was leading me there and this was about to change my life, faith and well, me.
I get off the airplane in Nairobi, alone, unsure of what to expect, who I would meet and starting to think I might be insane, yet also excited and full of anticipation, and see Mom and Dad Howell in a huge crowd of Africans, holding up a sign with my name on it! From that moment, they felt like family. I spent the summer living with them, sharing life, watching, learning, absorbing and experiencing. That was my seminary. I wrestled with God each night in bed at all that was happening around me. Mom and Dad Howell loved me like a daughter. I've never seen such generosity, hospitality and the raw love of Christ. Talk about literally being the hands and feet of Jesus. Like there is no other purpose or reason to live. Whether we were traveling to have a crusade type ministry up in the rural mountains in Kenya, or we were in the slums of Nairobi, when I woke up in the morning, people were in the home, around the table, being served coffee by Mom, talking, sharing ,praying. Their ministry was loving people, sharing life, being with others. Meeting their needs through praying, loving, and again, being. They didn't have an orphanage or a big ministry in the US supporting them. But they had huge faith and faith that humans can't understand. When we would be getting low on groceries (and funds), we packed up the cabinets and delivered food to neighbors down the way, who were hungry. We'd pray for God's provision. In the morning, waiting at our door, was a bag of fresh vegetables, milk, eggs. I literally saw God provide. Not figuratively, but in the form of potatoes in a sack and even once a live chicken. Really?! Yes. I get chill bumps thinking about it because it was so real. God's presence was so tangible, it was thick in the air.
I could speak and tell of the miracles I saw in Kenya. Miracles like the blind seeing, the lame walking, and spirits being cast out. Yes, they were incredible. But miracles like loving a neighbor, showing hospitality to the unwanted, hugs to the smelly, and friendship to children were vast, all demonstrations of our Lord's love and friendship to His creation and kids. I don't think one miracle is better than another. Beyond a particular miracle, Mom and Dad Howell's passion for living life for eternal purposes has forever changed my life. While I'm not sure how to be "in but not of" this world, as I think they have been in their life, I know God has stretched my heart and ability to minister, love and have the Holy Spirit work through me (despite me) because of their example. I am different. Forever.
Throughout the past 8 years, Mom and Dad Howell have been in my life. They pray for me, advocate for me, call me, love me and encourage me. I remember seeing Dad (in the US) a few months after we'd gotten married. I felt down and some of the hardships of newly wedded "bliss" were heavy on my mind. I will always remember Dad listening but then saying, "Heather, when will I hear of your victories?" When would I claim and live the abundant life in which Christ died on the cross for me to live? Would I live my life in vain of all my Lord did for me on the cross?
Dad Howell preached this message to poor Africans in the hills of Kenya. To the Masai. In other places around the world. To his family and children (much who thought he was just a little too "extreme"). And to me, a 20 year old searching for the fullness of God but unsure of what that meant and scared to "see" because then I knew it was "no turning back". And throughout the past 8 years, as I've struggled, questioned, tried to "run back" but the promises of God keeping me...to give VICTORIES in Christ. Over this world. Over the Evil One. Over my flesh. And as I continue to run this race, full of obstacles, my own flesh, and this world which entices my every sense, I look towards Heaven. Towards MORE than this life. Because Jesus died for such life. Here and in life to come.
I am thankful to God for Mom and Dad Howell. As Dad Howell rests, his work in the name of Jesus continues because Kingdom work continues beyond our time here and I am confident that people will still be moved, changed and loved through Christ because of Dad Howell. In Africa. In Texas (where they are from) and wherever this gal shall go.
Then I heard a voice from heaven say, "Write: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on." "Yes," says the Spirit, "they will rest from their labor, for their deeds will follow them". -Revelation 14:13
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Mama T.
I mean, Mother Teresa.
We've all heard of her and seen pictures of her with orphans surrounding her, right? But have you ever read anything she has wrote? Or really "heard" what she said?
I am blown away by some quotes, so I thought I'd share. My day was intense. The world of social work and counseling can be unforgiving and take, take, take...To fill myself up I was looking for some inspiration and "Mama T" shed the love and grace of God with her words (reflective of God) to my weary heart.
In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.
Many people mistake our work for our vocation. Our vocation is the love of Jesus.
Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.
Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired.
Each one of them is Jesus in disguise.
I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.
I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness.
I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.
If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one.
The miracle is not that we do this work, but that we are happy to do it.
We can do no great things, only small things with great love.
Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action.
They are all so simple yet I miss it everyday. Lord, help me simplify. Help me love. Give me grace. Love. Love. Love. And then some more. More patience. More smiles. Less irritation. Kindness. Not because it is given to me by a person, but because it has been given to me by You. That is all I need. There is no reason to not EVER be kind. Help me. To not get so tired. To keep going. In Your name. For Your glory. Because each of "them" is you, your child, your world. So broken. So dirty. So weak. As am I. I do not come from a lofty place where I cannot relate. I am as low as anyone. Let me not think highly of myself. I am nothing. A dust in the wind. Yet I have hands, a smile, my time, my life, to give, to be with, to share. Not to judge. Not to look down on. Not to condone. Love.Love.Love. That's it. From my home and family to every home I go into for work or person I meet on the street.
We've all heard of her and seen pictures of her with orphans surrounding her, right? But have you ever read anything she has wrote? Or really "heard" what she said?
I am blown away by some quotes, so I thought I'd share. My day was intense. The world of social work and counseling can be unforgiving and take, take, take...To fill myself up I was looking for some inspiration and "Mama T" shed the love and grace of God with her words (reflective of God) to my weary heart.
In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.
Many people mistake our work for our vocation. Our vocation is the love of Jesus.
Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.
Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired.
Each one of them is Jesus in disguise.
I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.
I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness.
I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.
If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one.
The miracle is not that we do this work, but that we are happy to do it.
We can do no great things, only small things with great love.
Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action.
They are all so simple yet I miss it everyday. Lord, help me simplify. Help me love. Give me grace. Love. Love. Love. And then some more. More patience. More smiles. Less irritation. Kindness. Not because it is given to me by a person, but because it has been given to me by You. That is all I need. There is no reason to not EVER be kind. Help me. To not get so tired. To keep going. In Your name. For Your glory. Because each of "them" is you, your child, your world. So broken. So dirty. So weak. As am I. I do not come from a lofty place where I cannot relate. I am as low as anyone. Let me not think highly of myself. I am nothing. A dust in the wind. Yet I have hands, a smile, my time, my life, to give, to be with, to share. Not to judge. Not to look down on. Not to condone. Love.Love.Love. That's it. From my home and family to every home I go into for work or person I meet on the street.
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