Loving Through Year and Far

"Prayer is weakness leaning on omnipotence."  W. S. Bowd

"Prayer does not change the purpose of God.  But prayer does change the action of God." Chuck Smith

"Our prayer must not be self-centered. It must arise not only because we feel our own need as a burden we must lay upon God, but also because we are so bound up in love for our fellow men that we feel their need as acutely as our own. To make intercession for men is the most powerful and practical way in which we can express our love for them." John Calvin 

"Men may spurn our appeals, reject our message, oppose our arguments, despise our persons, but they are helpless against our prayers." Sidlow Baxter

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In my lifetime I have worked with kids for many years, in many different capacities.  I have been a tutor, a babysitter, a housemother, a Big Sister, a mentor, a youth leader, a godparent, an aunt, and a friend to many kids.  Usually it has not been a difficult thing.  I love kids and drawn to them.....especially teenagers.....and have enjoyed the time I have spent with them.  On one hand it is very easy to see them as the magnificent works of art that God has created.  But lest you think I see it all in a rosy light, I don't.  Some of the most profoundly discouraging times in my life have come in the midst of these relationships.  As some of my fellow youth leaders and I used to remind each other "Youth ministry brings life's highest highs and lowest lows."  And that roller coaster ride is constant and travels quickly.

Yet it is in my relationships with teenagers that God has most clearly shown me so much about my self - my own sin, my tendency to judge when loving would be more appropriate, and my incredible inadequacy to handle any of it alone.

One of the first big examples that comes to mind was a middle school kid that I worked with years ago.  Oh, I just couldn't stand that kid.  I can't tell you why.....I just had a physical aversion to him.  At first it was just a low key thing that I barely noticed.  Then I did, and I dreaded every time he was in the vicinity.  He wasn't a bad kid....just annoying to me for some reason.  Incredibly annoying.  This was around the time that I made a commitment to pray for every kid I worked with regularly, specifically and by name.  The prayer that came to mind for him was "Lord, please help me love John."  (Name has been changed since I would hope if he ever read this he would not recognize himself, nor would anyone else who knew him!)  For that whole year I never got beyond that prayer.  Which is bad in itself since that was a prayer that was more about me than for him!!!  He deserved far better, but at that time it was all I could give.

After that year I moved away for a couple of years.  Later I moved back to that city and started working with high school youth.  This kid was part of that group.  The first time he saw me he got a huge smile on his face and ran up and hugged me.  I hugged back....and meant it.  It was overwhelming to me.  My prayer was not answered in a day, but it was answered over a period of years, yet suddenly and overwhelmingly.  I loved him.  We had an easy relationship after that and there was always mutual respect.  And love.  Not grown by me, but grown by God.  Humbling and magnificent.

Then there was another kid in a youth group.....a high school boy.....who just had a bad attitude from day one.  He didn't like anything.....and was not afraid to share that with us.  Our lessons were stupid.  We went to concerts and the music was stupid.  All of us....stupid.  Really there wasn't much he liked about anything and he quite resented the fact that he had to spend time with any of us.  But then he went and did it.  He got himself in a situation where he had to volunteer at a camp for handicapped children.  He told me afterwards that day one he still had a bad attitude.  He was not there because he wanted to be there, but he had offered to help to be polite, not ever intending to really do it, but someone took what he said to heart.  When they got in a bind and needed another counselor for this camp they called him, and it put him on the spot.  He didn't know how to get out of it.  No excuses came to mind.  So there he was, a counselor at a camp for handicapped kids.  For two weeks of his summer.

During his time there, however, something changed.  He started caring about the kid he was assigned to help.  He started caring about the other kids.  He started seeing his bad attitude and was ashamed.  He started seeing God as more than an esoteric being, but as someone who wanted to use him in this world.  One of the greatest things I have seen God do is change this guy's heart over a period of years, developing more and more compassion for people.  Now as an adult he lives as a servant to the world, with a sacrificial and loving heart.  For me his life is a microcosm of God at work....in praying for him from the early days until now, I have learned so much about how lives and attitudes can be changed, completely and profoundly.  These days my prayers are of thanksgiving and as a cheerleader.  "Use him more, Lord!"

And then there is a woman, who when she was the baby was the granddaughter of my Sunday School teacher.  When she was a baby she had a health problem....a tumor, I believe it was.....and I remember praying for her.  There's something about a baby with health issues.....even as a selfish teenager, it grabs at your heart.  So I prayed and remember being happy when it was determined that she would be OK.  Prayer answered.  Which was pretty cool in itself, but way better in later years when I ended up being her youth leader (in another church, another city) and seeing what an amazing young woman she turned out to be.  There was something very special about having had her grandfather (who died before she really had a chance to know him) invest in my life and teach me so much about the person I wanted to be, and then later in a small way being able to invest in the lives of his grandchildren. I still pray for her and her brother today.....and know that their grandfather would be pleased.  When people make investments in our lives, sometimes we get to give a little back.

Usually in youth ministry I felt that I was so inadequate for the task.  First of all, who was I, the big fat sinner, to presume to teach kids anything.  Then, I really don't have any special gifts that make me good at youth ministry.  I've never been the cool type....I'm way more the nerd.  Often the kids were far more "good" and "spiritual" than me.  Thankfully pretty early on God taught me the verse found in I Corinthians 3:7 "So neither he who plants or he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow."  It changed my life.  I didn't have to be good, I didn't have to be adequate, I didn't need all the answers.  All I needed to do was to live a life that pointed them to God and away from me.  Though even when I didn't do that well (because let's face it.....all most people see is our hypocrisy), it was OK.  God was going to reach them as God was going to reach them.  The Holy Spirit was going to do its job and convict them of sin....I didn't have to.  And I got a front row seat to watch God at work in their lives.

The heart, the luxury, of my ministry with youth (with people in general) was and is prayer....not just for that day, not just for a season, but for a lifetime.  These days the kids I have known still come to mind on a regular basis and I still pray for them, by name and as specifically as I can.  Some I know where they are and what they are doing, some I don't.  But still I pray.  And as at the first, God reveals answers in His time and not my own.  Yet when I catch glimpses of some of them as good friends, loving family members, caring parents, servants of God, kind people, those who stumble and get back up, and people who are increasingly becoming more joyful, exuberant and wise.....I see prayers of the ages answered and God at work.  For those who haven't quite found their potential and purpose....I still pray expectantly, fully expecting to see them get there. Because their story is not over yet, and I still get to be on the front row watching God, the author and perfecter of their lives, at work.

I like that quote that says that our prayers can't change God's purpose, but can change God's direction.  I believe that to be true and I want to be paying attention and taking advantage when it is necessary.  I also believe prayer is the greatest expression of love.  If I believe that God is in control of the universe....and I do.....bending his ear is my superpower.  If you are one of the "kids" in my life, know that you are special....you are a commitment that I took and take seriously.   And today, as you deal with grown up problems and the stresses and strains that life brings to your door that sometimes break my heart, know that I will continue to use that superpower to petition God into action on your behalf.  While often we feel that prayer is the least we can do, the truth is that it is the most powerful thing we can do.  With it we can change God's direction, and in that change the universe.

So for "my kids", and for any others who may be reading this, my prayer for you today is the same simple one prayed by the saints throughout scripture for the people in their lives...that my Lord will be kind to you and give you peace.  Amen. 

Memoirs from the Early Days at UNC

My niece Maggie is starting college at my alma mater, UNC-CH, this week.  She moved into her dorm on Saturday and when a client meeting had me in Chapel Hill on Monday (my first ever client meeting there in 6 years with my company), I couldn't resist the opportunity to hang out with her for a few minutes.  It is a bit uncanny how similar her feelings are to what mine were during those first days.  One part of me wanted to just grab her and bring her home and protect her from having to deal with these first few weeks (which are so emotional), but I also know that enduring them is a very important part of her college...and life.... experience. I know her.....she will thrive there.  But being there and talking to her I got nostalgic.  It got me thinking about my early days at UNC.....

My first few weeks at Carolina were the typical roller coaster of high highs (when I was so glad I was there and love, love, loved it) and low lows (when I felt I had no real friends, missed home, was tired of being a fish out of water, and questioned why I didn't just keep that McDonald's job and make it a career.)  I was so very ready to go away to college.  I just knew that my parents were quite happy to get rid of me, too...I was trying to live an independent life already, which didn't work well in their household.  (It wasn't until many years later that I actually found out how difficult it was for them.)  They did what the college recommended.... saw that all of my stuff got out of the car and moved into my dorm (which took a surprisingly short period of time, since you drove up and a group of upperclassmen volunteers helped unload your car and deliver everything to your room), and then quickly went on their way.  That was exactly what I wanted, too.....until I realized I was all alone and had no clue as to what I was supposed to be doing!  I can still feel that ache of loneliness and homesickness and helplessness and inadequacy all of these years later.  I was from a family of seven....I really hadn't spent much time by myself and for years I had understood what was expected of me.  There I was, a lot of people around but people with whom I didn't have any love or history.   Almost every minute of that first week was difficult.

My first roommate was a fifth year senior, a stranger assigned by lottery, only there for one more semester.  She didn't arrive until I had been there almost a week, so she was no help whatsoever in getting me acclimated to school.  The girls across the hall had been high school friends at some exclusive boarding school, so being away from home was nothing new for them.  They seemed much older than me, definitely way ahead in sophistication, and we didn't have a lot in common.  In fact, there was only one girl in my suite of eight that I felt that I had any rapport with.  She was also a freshman, a journalism major. While we became friends and enjoyed being suite mates that year, our schedules, interests and friends were fairly different.

I had a few friends from high school who went to college with me (I think there were seven total from my graduating class.)  All lived in other dorms.  I'd see them on occasion, and I saw a lot of two of the girls that freshman year, but still the distance of the dorms meant that we could only share so much.

There was one other girl from my hometown who was in my dorm freshman year.  We hadn't gone to the same high school, but had met during our senior year.  When we found out we had been assigned to the same dorm, we were happy we would know someone else there.  (She would later become my roommate for a semester when my first roommate graduated.)  But her college experience was like that of many kids who had grown up in rigidly sheltered homes.  She came to college and felt her first taste of freedom and went a little wild.  Back in my college days the drinking age was 18 for beer and wine.....and a large portion of our college activity fees went towards kegs.  Wild girl definitely drank her share of her fees......and mine and several others.  I believe most of her college years are a blur.  I never felt this need to rebel...though I had also been somewhat sheltered, because of my own obstinance I had felt in control of my own life for some time.  Plus I had already learned the lesson that there are consequences for all of your actions (from parents who were very persistent at pointing this out whenever I did anything that brought consequences)....and peer pressure never has been a big driver in my actions.  I admit I sometimes wondered about the intelligence of some of my classmates who never seemed to grasp the principle of cause and effect.  I laugh sometimes when I see them in successful careers.

This "girl gone wild" not only was the source of some entertainment for me, but I met one of my best college friends (who has become one of my lifelong best friends) when she ended up on his doorstep late at night with a couple of freshmen boys she had met at a mixer.  Evidently she had not eaten and had been subsisting on diet pills.  My soon-to-be friend Al was an Orientation Counselor that year and these guys brought her to him when they realized she was in pretty bad shape.....and got scared after she told them she was mixing diet pills and way too much alcohol.  So Al, who was maybe 20 himself, had to figure out how to deal with the situation.  He called the student infirmary and they walked him through the process of trying to figure out what kind of diet pills she was on.  When they established they were just over-the-counter caffeine pills, they told him she would just need to sleep off the alcohol.  I think perhaps Al was disappointed there was not a stomach pumping in her future since she was so aggravating.  But they got her to bed and she slept it off.  I think she introduced me to Al (her savior) the next day.  There was absolutely no embarrassment as she told me all that happened....she rather enjoyed being the center of the drama.  Al may have been a bit more traumatized....though his version was equally, if not more, entertaining.  While he has not had contact with her since college, he still has nightmares she may show up on his doorstep in the middle of the night.  (And I don't rule that possibility out either.....last contact I had with her she still lived a life of drama, almost 20 years after college.  One of her problems we discussed that day....a convicted serial killer kept calling her from prison and she was wondering if she should continue to take his collect calls.  I voted no.  My guess is that they still talk regularly.)

This friend was dramatic, but is also responsible for me getting to know at least two of my other friends from college that I still have contact with to this day.  It's good to know crazy people sometimes.  They bond you to others and give you stories to tell for a lifetime.

It's one thing to share a bathroom with your siblings (and with four siblings I had plenty of experience with that), but another when it is one bathroom and 8 girls.  Our bathroom had one toilet, one shower and two sinks.  I was strongly instructed by an upperclassman during week one that the only possible time the bathroom door could be locked was one week a month for each girl (and in reality that was actually frowned upon.)  Shocking for me....raised by the modest British woman...but the reality of it was that open access was a necessity.  And to think I had thought showers after high school PE were traumatic (they were)!  But funny how that bathroom openness quickly became a part of life.  Any modesty I had going into college was pretty much left behind.

Those years were a time for freedom, for exploring, for learning (the best stuff not in the classroom!), for growing, for stretching, for bonding, for learning about myself, for caring for others, for building community, for making mistakes, for doing foolish things, for doing brilliant things, for being silly, for being part of the crowd and also and for realizing that unique is not a bad thing to be.  During my years I got to experience the electricity of Carmichael Auditorium, Dean Smith and the Four Corners offense, found out that the basketball players were real people who you could actually get to know and not just characters on TV, felt the thrill of winning a national championship, and the disappointment of a loss or two.  I gave blood for free food (I would have given it anyway, but free food probably made it happen more often), sat beside a Secret Service agent who really did talk into his watch, learned that waitresses work hard for their money (and that you can't judge a tipper by appearance or income), got to know people who had made significant contributions to our world and others who would make them in the future.

I am sad that Maggie will never get to experience a basketball game in Carmichael, or a meal at the Porthole, or a Greek Grilled Cheese from Hector's (famous since 1969).  I am sad that she doesn't have to stand in lines at the bookstore for 4 or 5 hours to buy her books and meet people there who would be longtime friends.  I am sad that she will never sleep on the sidewalk to camp out for basketball tickets.  I hate that she will not ever get to take a military history class by Dr. Leutze (who entranced me ever time he spoke) or a political science class from the former head of UNESCO Jack Fobes (who was history himself) or writing course from Walter Cronkite's head writer Ed Bliss.  Yeah....I hate that she doesn't get to have the years I had there.

But though Maggie won't get to have my experiences, she will get to create her own memories, at a different point in history.  If she does it well, as I suspect she will, she will not leave Chapel Hill with just a diploma.  She will leave Chapel Hill with a wonderful, rich history of her own and a special place in her heart that will always make her smile and feel peace.  And a whole lot of stories to tell for the rest of her life.  Hopefully one about a national championship.

When Maybe is the Wrong Answer

"Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one."  Matthew 5:37

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"Maybe" used to be a word of promise to me.  When I was growing up, if Mom or Dad answered a question with "maybe", it didn't mean it was certain, but it was a word of possibilities.  Usually good possibilities.  I liked maybe.  Maybe usually worked in my favor.  There were generally strings or conditions to turn a maybe into a yes, but they were given up front and if those strings or conditions were met, the "maybe" became a "yes."  Or from my point of view, a "YES!!!!"

But now it seems we have become a people of maybe....and not in a good way.  Not in a way where the word holds excitement and possibilities.  Nowadays it seems perhaps maybe has become just a wimpy "no."

You know we do it....we say "maybe" sometimes because it's hard to commit.  Sometimes we are waiting for a better offer.  Sometimes we just don't want to do it and don't know how to say no.  Sometimes we harbor fears that noone knows about.... periods of depression or social anxiety and are not sure if we are able to be a  "yes" on that day. Sometimes we are exhausted and at the end of our rope and don't want to be around other people.  Sometimes we want to spend time with you, but not doing what you want to do, and don't know how to approach you with an alternative.  Sometimes you have been a pain to be around and we are avoiding you.  Sometimes we are just inconsiderate and our mind is on overload...and we just don't want to think about whether it works in our schedule or think about whether we really want to do it and aren't really thinking about the fact that you are waiting for an answer and that our answer impacts your life too.  (And yes, I have been guilty of this......and I am sorry!  It's embarrassing when I realizedI have done it ...even worse to know I may have done it and it really did slip my mind...and I just may not have apologized sufficiently...or at all!  Am I allowed to call "menopausal" on this one?  No, I wouldn't let me either.)

I feel like I spend a lot of my life on hold.....waiting to see what other people are going to do. Don't you?  When they will make their decision as to what "maybe" will mean.  Because "maybe" is not a permanent word.  It's a place holder.  At some point it turns into a yes or a no.  Sometimes by default.  Often someone is waiting patiently for that answer from you, putting their plans on hold in hope that you come back with a "yes".  Your maybe can be the prelude to a hurt heart or hurt feelings or a last minute panic because they have to adjust their plans when you wait until the last minute to actually give a real answer.

And then there is the last minute cancellation.  Often these are because someone meant maybe, but said "yes."  Lately this seems to happen to me often.  Are people more lax in their commitments or is there something else going on?   You receive a firm commitment from someone, you're all prepared and ready to go, excited about your plans, and you get that last minute call.  Sick, tired, over-extended, still at work, no money, going with someone else.  Or the latest trend seems to be.....they just "forget" they committed and don't call or show up or ever apologize.  After a while you don't bother to call them to see what is going on.  You know it has happened again and it will lead to that awkward "Oh I am so sorry I forgot" conversation...and it has happened enough that you doubt whether they really forgot (they usually have a good memory for other things) and just don't want to have to be disappointed in them.  Because they are our friends, right?

I think we still get our hopes up when we hear the word "maybe."  We still think it is a possibility.  Even if it is said with no intent of ever being anything but a "no"....for some reason we think if they meant "no" they would have said it.  Not a bad logic, but unfortunately often not the truth.  If your answer is "no", isn't "maybe" the crueler answer?  (Yes, in some ways we never leave the immature world of seventh grade and forget it is time to be a grownup.)

The word maybe not only impacts the lives of others around us, it impacts our own lives.  How many things are in our "maybe" folder, that we should move to our "yes" or "no" permanent files?  How many things stay in "maybe" status because of our fear?  How much of our life do we "maybe" away?  (In other words instead of "doing" or "trying" we stay home curled up on our couch because we are afraid to say "yes.")  Do we really want to live our lives in the land of maybe?

We should resolve to not use wimp and weak words.....and that includes the word maybe.  "Maybe" is not always evil and it does have its place.  It can be very useful.  Sometimes we need placeholders.  We need to pause and think about things and not give flippant answers.  But as my parents used to do, there should be strings or conditions stated when we use the word (even if only stated to ourselves.)  Ultimately we need to make it a "yes" or "no".  We should make a deadline for a real answer that we actually stick to.  A deadline that doesn't inconvenience others.  A quick "no" is a whole lot kinder than a drawn-out maybe....especially when you know it is your answer.  Trust me....most of us prefer it to the limbo that "maybe" traps us in.  We may be disappointed, but it is a kinder way to treat someone.  Or another idea....how about getting out of your comfort zone, be bold, live a grown up life, try a "yes," and stick to your commitment?   Just a suggestion.

Trumping Fear

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something is more important than fear."   Ambrose Redmoon

"I am the Lord your God.  I am holding your hand, so don't be afraid.  I am here to help you."  Isaiah 41:13 

"She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom." Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

"I tried to contain myself, but I escaped!"  Gary Paulsen

When I worked at Jefferson Pilot my office was on the 12th floor in downtown Greensboro.  It was a beautiful view.....with a window that took up almost a whole wall looking out onto a magnificent vista.  On a clear day I could see Pilot Mountain from this office.  It was beautiful.  Unless I stood by that window and looked straight down at the sidewalk below.  Or if the window washing guys were out there hanging on a small board hung by cables and washing my window.  Then I got a bit queasy.  (I left the office when the window washers came.)  It creeped me out.  Those were the times I had little appreciation of the window or the view.  I only noticed how high it was up there on the 12th floor and how only a piece of glass stood between me and a big fall. The truth is, I don't like heights very much.

"I don't like heights very much."  I always thought that was a unchangeable declarative sentence (one that ends with a period, for those who have been away from school for a while...or were dozing when we learned it), or a sentence that continued with the words  "so I can't..." , followed by a laundry list of all of the things that require you expose yourself to heights. I've found, however, that the sentence doesn't have to end in that way.  In particular, adding a few "buts" to that sentence can make some major changes in my life.  In changing that sentence in that way, I change me.

I don't like heights very much, but....

• I enjoy being at the top of a hill on a roller coaster.
• I love riding in airplanes of all kinds.
• I ride in a hot air balloon and peer over the sides.
• I parasailed and felt absolutely no fear.
• I glide through the air on a zipline.
  
• I walked off a 46-ft tower on command (maybe with a slight hesitation.)
• I sat in the doorway of an airplane in flight.
  
• I hung from the wing of an airplane and dropped.

My love of flying seems to supersede my fear of heights.  I didn't realize this until lately, when my friend Damien convinced me (relatively easily, in fact, which still mystifies me) that instead of just doing a tandem jump like I planned (which was still a HUGE stretch for me in itself), that I needed to do it on my own.  He said "You want to fly."  It was true.  I just couldn't argue that statement.  And now post jump and after a bit of reflection, I find that Damien, who really didn't know me at all at the time, crystalized something for me with those words.  At some point along the way I began to change the sentence to "I don't like heights very much, but I do love to fly."

Fears are natural.  We all have them.  Whether we are willing to admit it or not.  We all deal with them differently.  Still there is something we all have in common.  To conquer that fear we have to want something more. Something has to be bigger and more meaningful than the fear.

Sometimes it is pride.  (We don't want people to know we are afraid, or we don't want them to ridicule us for being so.)  Sometimes it is what we gain if we overcome it, versus what we lose if we don't.  (We ask someone out because a chance of a relationship with them is worth the possibility of rejection.)  Sometimes all it takes is us not wanting to be scared of it anymore, not to let it paralyze us.  (We go to that doctor's visit we have been putting off because the truth of finding out what is wrong with us is easier to deal with than the constant terror of the possibilities of what actually is.)  Sometimes it is just because we want to prove to ourselves that our own expectations of our self are not necessarily valid.  (We skydive!)

For some reason it has become very important to me lately to face my fears.  When I started to mentally make a list, it was a long one that kept getting longer.  It was keeping me from living life to the fullest.  While some of my fears were very valid, there are others that are simply phobias or just things I wasn't keeping in perspective.  I knew there was no rational reason for them, yet I let them control some area of my life. They had no power in themselves....I gave them power and kept restocking it.   In some ways these fears become our little gods.....we worship them.  Nothing can come before them.  They are dynamos and we are the generator.

But there is great freedom in facing fears, in rejecting them, dismantling them, and denying them power in our life.  When we make the decision to not nurture our fears, to not worship them, we can get out of the bindings and make our escape to freedom.

There are fears that are valid and should be respected.  There are others that are bad medicine that will incapacitate us and paralyze us and sometimes kill the essence of who we can be.  Those we need to conquer.  Letting my fear of heights be trumped by the fun of flying has changed how I approach the fear.  The fear has not gone away.  But it is not the massive roadblock in my life that it used to be.  From the office view, the picture is clear and the scenery is my focus.  I won't look down....I will look ahead.  So come on.....join me.  Let's throw the harness on (we're not stupid!) and jump.  Add a few positive "buts' to the things that scare us.  Give it a try.  And learn the joy of trumping fear!

I don't like heights very much, but you know something....I really do love to fly. 

Living in the Land of Self Pity

Yesterday was one of those days that just wearies my soul.  By the end of my work day, I just wanted to collapse in a pile and cry.  And sleep.  I was having systems issues and the person at our Help Desk was putting her heart into helping, but did not seem to me to be doing it quickly and efficiently enough for me.  Part of my frustration was that the problem meant a whole slew of emails, many from clients, had never arrived in my "In" box.  They'd all gone into my "Junk Mail" folder.  Which I had never checked, mostly because we get these reports periodically which I thought showed all that had been sent there through system edits.  Those that were sent to the "Junk Mail" box and that never appeared on this list were somewhat random, which is why I hadn't noticed sooner, but there were a lot of them.  The ones that concerned me most were from clients, but some even came from my own company.  If you don't see the email from people, you don't respond.....and it bothers me that any of these people would think they had been ignored for a long period of time.  I take pride in being responsive to my emails at work.....so this cut at me.

Then there was a project I had been working on.  I had worked on it constantly for several weeks.  I knew that people needed the information to continue the flow of the information down the line to meet other deadlines. I felt I had done the work that made it happen.  To make a Monday deadline, I had worked last weekend on it, and worked a 14-hour day on Monday (though several hours of that had been in a meeting), and when I passed it on I thought I had made the deadline and felt it was in decent shape to continue the process.  I found yesterday at the end of the day that it had issues where some responses were too wordy and need to be cut down.....which will mean I have much more work to do.  Quickly.  Again, disheartening.

Then there are other things at work where I am feeling either inadequate, or behind, or just like things are not running in sync.  And I feel alone in it all (not the fault of my co-workers, who would probably help if I could figure out how and when I need help.)  I finished the week not feeling good about things, knowing I couldn't have worked much harder, but feeling that I need to be more than I am.  That what I have to offer just isn't quite enough.

Add to this I am just feeling crummy about myself.....I have not been running at all and not working out as I should, which means I have gained weight.  So you have mornings where you try on outfit after outfit to find something to wear and nothing fits, and when you find something that does fit you still don't feel good about the outfit or how you look in it.  When you don't feel good about your body, you seem to just move in slow motion.  You are tired.  It's difficult to get back on track.  It's a mental issue and the desire just isn't there. Possibly because it is more difficult to move a heavy body around than one that is less heavy.  It's definitely more difficult to move one that you don't feel good about!

See how easy it is to get into a place of self pity?   Really, the problems of my life are so easy when I compare them to others.  Most of mine are either self-inflicted, or things that in the scheme of life really are not that important.  So shallow compared to those of some of my friends.....who are dealing with things like major health issues, no jobs, financial problems, and children at death's door.  Still, self pity is only looking at our self ....while we recognize these other things, our stuff still feels like a weight on top of our heads.

But regardless of our circumstances, we can't let ourselves live in the land of self pity.  It's addictive and can spread to those around us....and is a cancer on our world.  We have to snap ourselves out of it.  Whatever life throws at us, we just need to get in there and face it.  Whatever our issues at work or in the world, they usually only last for a season.  Whatever shape our body is in at the moment, it is still one that is "fearfully and wonderfully made," the only one we will ever get and we need to care for it.  And love it for the things that are right about it.  What other people do that seems to consume our own lives, we have no real control over.  We need to give that up quickly.  In fact, we only can exercise a small amount of control over anything.  We need to accept that we're not so important and not so special, but in one of life's greatest paradoxes we are so incredibly important and so very special.

The problems of life are what give life texture.  A life of only good things would give us complacent and inactive hearts.  Feeling life is part of living it to the fullest.  So we should expect those days of "blah", acknowledge them, and come up with the right plan for us to get back to a place where we love life.  It's a mental thing. It requires that we deny ourselves of the luxury of wallowing, revisit our purpose and our passion, and move.  We have to move.  One step at a time.

So for me, I've got work to do this weekend.  I'm also going to try to refresh and breathe a bit....so I can attack the issues that I know are not going away.  I started last night by relaxing a bit with my sister and friends and enjoying what our city has to offer....watching bike races, seeing people I haven't seen in a while, eating a good dinner and listening to great music.  This morning I have lost a few hours in nothingness (reading and interneting and drinking coffee), but I think a workout is in order.  I think I need to be outside for a while and catch some sunshine (or if no sunshine, at least some fresh air.)  I will brave the tax free weekend crowds and buy some school supplies for the drive one of my friends at work is sponsoring, and remember how much fun it was to get brand new school supplies for the first day of school.  Maybe I will clean something up around the house, or pay bills, or have my car washed, or do some of those other chores I would prefer not to do but feel so much better when they are done.  But I won't savor the pity.  Because if I look at it logically, there isn't much about my life that is bad.  If there were, I know I am surrounded by friends and family who will do their darndest to help.  And anyway, my hand is held by a God who will direct me to a full and vibrant life.  If I don't fight him, make my own way down dark paths alone, and stay there.  And really.....why would I want to do that?