As Each Day Requires {#178-190}

"Christ... is always there at the door of our souls, wanting to enter in, though he does not force our consent. If we agree to his entry, he enters; directly we cease to want him, he is gone. We cannot bind our will today for tomorrow; we cannot make a pact with him that tomorrow he will be with us, even in spite of ourselves. Our consent to his presence is the same as his presence. Consent is an act. It can only be actual, that is to say in the present. We have not been given a will that can be applied to the future." —Simone Weil

You know those times when it seems like God is trying to get you to pay attention to something, and in your humanness, you either write it off to coincidence, ignore it for the diversion of whatever is in front of you, or you just simply don't get it?

Yeah, I'm having one of those times.

My favorite Moleskine journal happens to be my very first one. Christmas 2006, my friend Ang gave me a Moleskine Plain Reporter's Notebook, and with that fantastic gift, my love of all things Moleskine was born. In this notebook, over the years, I have a collection of words—not only mine, but quotes of others, sermon notes, song lyrics, meeting notes—and even the occasional illustration or doodle. This journal contains my very favorite of things that I never want to leave home without.

When I was wandering through the journal last week, I once again was taken by the above Simone Weil quote... and this idea that we only have today.

This is something I struggle with. When I begin something, I want to know that I have the ability/resources/will power/ whatever to be able to continue doing something for the rest of my life. In my mind, if it is worth doing right now, it is worth doing forever... and conversely, if I cannot do it forever, then why should I bother doing it right now?

I also like to live in the future, to dream of the good things to come. A visit with my family, a new book, wandering the streets of Paris... somehow these things become much more delightful to dream about than whatever I am supposed to be focused on right now.

Ridiculous, right?!

Then in yesterday's Life Journal readings, I read Solomon's speech as the temple was completed, and noticed this in 1 Kings...

"Let these words of mine, which I have pleaded before the Lord, be near to the Lord our God day and night, that he may maintain the cause of his servant and the cause of his people Israel, as each day requires, the peoples of the earth may know that the Lord is God; there is no other. Let your heart therefore be wholly true to the Lord our God, walking in his statutes and keeping his commandments, as at this day." {vs. 59-61, italics mine}

As each day requires. Solomon, in all his wisdom, understood what Simone Weil also got, that all we have is today.

Each day must be lived on its own. I cannot change the past, I cannot manipulate the future, the only thing I have in my hands is today, this moment. This is the place, the arena, the playground where I can make the good choices, make a difference, make my mark, make my stand, make a life.

Here—today—is where I live.

The gifts I count today...

178:: homemade strawberry scones baking in the oven.

179:: the smell of freshly cut grass.

180:: waking in the gently falling rain.

181:: poetry. all poetry.

182:: seeing an opportunity to help a stranger, taking it, and seeing the gratitude in eyes I will never see again.

183:: super fun paper clips!

184:: holiday weekends, the chance to slow down.

185:: a steaming cup of tea on a cool, rainy evening.

186:: attempting a new slow cooker recipe, and having it be a success.

187:: hearing Jayden sing in the background while I talked to his dad on the phone.

188:: a telephone conversation with Nicky, the birthday boy, hearing how grown up he sounds, and simultaneously how funny he is.

189:: getting a chance to talk to Loralie.

190:: for today...for all that today will hold, all that it won't hold, and the grace to live it to the full.

Simple ≠ Easy

And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you. —Psalm 39:7

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. —Psalm 42:11

The questions in these verses remind me of that old Johnny Carson skit where he wore a turban and held a piece of paper to his forehead with an answer on it. When the question was revealed, the answer was most always hilarious.

But while they all were similarly funny, for these questions posed by the Psalmists, Johnny would only need one card, and on it would be written, Hope in God.

What about cancer in a little body? Hope in God.

Other illness in my family? Hope in God.

Things not turning out as I'd planned? Hope in God.

The turbulence in the world? Hope in God.

Tsunamis, earthquakes, floods...? Hope in God.

Unanswered prayers and unrealized dreams? Hope in God.

It seems simple, almost formulaic, but while the answer is simple, it is far from easy—anything but easy. Standing rock solid on my hope in God, regardless of what I wait for not arriving, regardless of the turmoil going on in and around me, regardless of all the things that would serve to push me off this sometimes tiny foundation of hope, is not easy.

But whoever said that life was going to be easy? Not my mom, and certainly not Jesus... who said, "In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." {John 16:33}

Who better to put our hope in than the One who already faced down the world and won?

thinking of you...

From yesterday's Life Journal...

You have multiplied, O Lord my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts towards us... As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. —Psalm 40:5, 17 ESV

Since the devastation form the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, one of the most frequently seen Twitter and Facebook status updates has been, 'my thoughts and prayers are with Japan', or something similar. Last Friday, @donmilleris, no doubt having seen many of the same updates, Tweeted, "If anything bad happens to me, I can't use your thoughts but I could use your prayers."

While initially I laughed, I believe he is wrong. What else spurs action and compassion but our thoughts?

Since December 3, some of the things that have meant the most to me, touched my soul most profoundly, have been seemingly random emails, notes and gifts, all that were precipitated by someone's thoughts for me and my family.

And while all this is good, there is something so grace-filled and perfect about God thinking of me. With the billions of people on a planet so filled with pain and injustice and tragedy, to think that my God thinks about me, even—or especially—when I am needy, is a beautiful grace.

I don't believe there has ever been another time of my life when I have needed this more. This knowledge that my God has thoughts for me, has cared for me in so very many ways, and even uses the thoughts of others to bless me, is a gift I will always cherish.

And more than cherish, it makes me want to act more on the thoughts that I have for the people in my life.

This is my prayer...

laundromat

you're probably already aware of this, but it's friday.

friday.

the last breath before the big exhale of a long weekend.

i was awake early this morning, so i packed up laundry in my bright orange Lug, and trudged through the mud and dark spring-like morning to the laundromat.

while the Streetsville laundromat has gone downhill in terms of upkeep in the years that i've been a patron, i find it to be an excellent place to write and read. something about not being surrounded by the usual distractions of home and possessions, i believe.

but whatever the reason is, it's also easier to think here.

this morning, i'm thinking of my three words for 2011.

it has been my practice for the last few years to pick a word that i want to focus on that year. sometimes it is one of the fruit of the Spirit. sometimes something else. but this year, even though—or perhaps, because—i was later in choosing the word, this year, i have three.

i tried to choose between them. even tried choosing two of the three, but nothing but the three of them together ever sat right with me. so, for 2011, i have three words.

my three words for this year are beauty, simplicity, and grace.

i won't get into them today. partly because i am still unpacking what each of them means to my life and how it will all play out, and partly because my laundry is just about finished. but you will be hearing me talk about these three things over these months. that much i can assure you.

have a beautiful weekend.

routine

“I travel a lot; I hate having my life disrupted by routine.” —Caskie Stinnett

this quote pretty much explains how i used to feel about routine. whenever possible, i would take a different way in to work. i refused to be nailed down to traditional meal times. a career change took me from the banker's hours of a job at a credit union to a retail store position, and loved that my schedule changed every day, not to mention every week. basically, routine was pretty much a four letter word.

but i'm feeling different about it these days.

since getting home after almost a month with my family, i have been struggling to get back to even the most basic of schedules. from the time i wake up, right on through until the time i go to bed, i am pretty universally routine-deprived right now.

and now, it needs to stop.

i know myself well enough to know that if i begin to put too many rules in effect, that i won't do anything. so i need to work within my own limitations, and sell myself the benefits of doing the things that i know i should be doing, instead of simply saying, "do it!"

{does anyone else play mind games with themselves? does it actually work?}

so much of my day is lost if i waste the morning away, so it is important that i start things off right. but it's not even so easy as actually getting up the first time the alarm breaks into my sleep. it's going to bed on time. and making sure that the kitchen is clean before that, and the table is cleared of all distractions, and my life journal, bible and morning pages notebook are where i can find them. and my lunch is made and ready to take to work. and...

you get the picture.

so, tonight, while i do my much-neglected laundry, i will turn up Charlotte Martin's new CD {which you should totally get, by the way}, and i will get some organization and new routine-making happening in my little world.

who knows? by next week, i may be unstoppable...

choosing joy

i am truly enjoying the books of daily readings that i've undertaken for this year. the three of them are all so different, that each brings a very different element to my day, and they all seem to be taking turns being any particular day's favorite.

yesterday's favorite, however, was easy to call... and something i needed {and still need} to hear.

Choosing Joy
by Henri Nouwen, Bread For The Journey {January 30}

Joy is what makes life worth living, but for many joy seems hard to find. They complain that their lives are sorrowful and depressing. What then brings the joy we so much desire? Are some people just lucky, while others have run out of luck? Strange as it may sound, we can choose joy. Two people can be part of the same event, but one may choose to live it quite differently from the other. One may choose to trust that what happened, painful as it may be, holds a promise. The other may choose despair and be destroyed by it.

What makes us human is precisely this freedom of choice.

i choose joy.

off

i am feeling off today.

it started sometime yesterday, not sure if i could actually pinpoint the time. but by late yesterday afternoon, it was official that i was not feeling like myself. i was achy and stuffed up, so i hoped that perhaps the 'offness' was a result of the onset of a cold, but this morning i awoke sans illness, but still not quite myself.

even as i wrote this morning, it felt strained and unfamiliar.

after getting ready, i walked out of the house and into dog pooh and anger. in retrospect, the anger was probably disproportionate to the amount of pooh stepped in. perhaps it was the cumulative amount of dog pooh i have stepped in over the last few months, or just another symptom of how i am feeling.

then as i walked to work, i almost got run into by a car. while the driver wasn't watching where she was going, it was my fault because i wasn't where i should have been... but that didn't stop me from angrily looking at the driver and asking, 'what on earth is wrong with you?!' through the windshield.

never would i have thought that i would end up being that person.

i am off today.

i'm not even sure what i most need. i only know that i don't feel like myself, now compounded by the guilt of taking my unfounded anger out on an unsuspecting stranger. i pray that she forgets and my outburst does not affect her day.

as in all my more ugly self-aware moments, Rilke words seem to find their way into my mind. these, the last part of the poem, 'I Am Praying Again, Awesome One' seem particularly fitting...

it is here in all the pieces of my shame
that i now find myself again.
i yearn to belong to something, to be contained
in an all-embracing mind that sees me
as a single thing.
i yearn to be held
in the great hands of your heart—
oh let them take me now.

into them i place these fragments, my life,
and you, God— spend them however you want.

—Rilke

walked

it seems, for the people in my life, that october is the month to go on vacation. right now, i have friends and family in Egypt, Israel, Texas and California.

as envious as i am, given that i always want to travel, there seems to be a bit of a theme woven throughout some of these vacations, and even crossing over into some of the books i have read this year.

more than one friend who was going to Israel told me that for them, the crux of the trip is to walk where Jesus walked. to see things He would have seen with His eyes.

this morning i received an email from my dad, who, with my mom, is finally living his lifetime-long dream of visiting the Alamo. in it, he said,

"What a feeling to be standing where all those heroes stood. To cross the line and stand with them. The feeling of hopelessness as you realize they were all going to die yet stayed there to serve their country."

my dad is living his dream, walking in the footsteps of his heroes.

after that, i read my friend Phil's blog post, and in it he has a video where Francis Chan talks about going to Oxford and getting a crash course in church history, actually seeing where some lived, and some died.

combine all that with some books i have read this year. A Walk With Jane Austen, for one, where a young woman drops her life to go to England for a month to visit the places where the famous author lived her life and wrote her words. and then there is the book i just finished, Juliet, which while it is a novel, is about a woman who discovers that she is related to the original Juliet, of Shakespeare fame, and returns to Siena, Italy to discover the truth, and her rightful inheritance.

there is something so compelling about connecting the past with the present. about standing in a place and wondering how many fascinating, or just plain normal people through the years have also stood in the same place. about wondering what they did, who they loved, how they faced down their own fears.

...as a child, i walked through forts on vacations with my family, where people of bravery took stands and fought to keep invaders away from their land, teaching me that the way things are now, is not they way they have always been. that there are things that are worth defending.

...i have wandered a Parisian garden where both my favorite sculptor and favorite poet wandered themselves, looking for inspiration and solace, hoping the garden would pass its magic into my own words and art.

...sadly, i have found myself standing in a gas chamber in Auschwitz, unable to keep the tears from flowing for all the lives that ended in that cold, cement room, and all the ways the world could have been made a better place had that room not ever been built.

there are still so many places that i want to touch the ground. so many people, long dead, whose ghosts i want to will my eyes to see. so very much history that i want to connect with.

so many places to walk...


where do you want to walk?

weight

while emailing my good friend Alicia this morning, i started to explain to her why sometimes doing the things that i know are good for me are just so darn hard. it's not that i'm lazy, or i don't understand how important these things—writing, exercise, etc.— are. it's actually quite the opposite, i know how vital they are to a healthy me, and paradoxically, the weight of their importance, at time, cripples me.

when i am about to embark on something good for me, be it writing or working out or whatever, it is never just a single event in my mind. somehow my brain takes that event and turns it into something bigger. as though if it is worth my time to do today, then surely, here and now, i must make a commitment to do this good thing every day for the rest of my natural-born life. merely doing it once would be a 'why bother?'

then, the weight of a lifetime of said good thing starts to wear and feel incredibly daunting. the fatigue that plagues my mind as it attempts to wrap itself around this heavy commitment, and all the other things i will never do because i will be doing this forever, makes me want to go take a nap... which is not very conducive to getting anything done.

my challenge, it seems, is to not put added weight onto the daily tasks that i need and want to do. the writing i do today, is the by-product of today, not the rest of my life. walking to work is merely a 25-minute jaunt. not 25 minutes times 365 days times how many more years i will live. first off, i probably couldn't do the math, but no one can expect to live a lifetime in one day.

i only have to be faithful and disciplined for today. for right now.

and deal with tomorrow when it gets here.

mobility

a week ago, my life was, as it has been since i gave up owning a car to travel more, automobile-less.

i've come to terms with life without a car. living in Mississauga, which has a pretty great transit system, doesn't make it a hardship. not to mention living a 25-minute walk to work is pretty awesome {and as soon as the brutally humid weather stops, i greatly anticipate walking again!}. and then, there are the great friends who offer rides, and ask me to go along with them when they grocery shop... really, not having a car isn't that bad. and, it's taught me that there are times when this fiercely independent girl needs to actually ask for and accept help from others. {a lesson not easily, or completely, learned.}

but last friday, some friends, while going on vacation, left me their minivan. then yesterday, when i brought other friends to the airport, they left me their car as well.

in a matter of five short days, i've gone from zero to eight wheels available for my use. crazy!

the good news is, i've gotten errands done that have been on the to-do list for months. my black watch now has a battery, and no longer tells me that it is 12:57. my paris shoes have new soles and are prettily sitting in my closet waiting for use. clothes that i no longer need are stacked up and ready to be taken over to the Salvation Army on the way to work this morning.

all good things.

but it also comes with a down side.

when i am wheel-less, i plan my life better. without that convenience of an automobile, it's too easy to not think through all the things you will need for the day, and plan accordingly. after all, if you forgot something, you can just go back.

i don't like it when i don't plan... not being as prepared as i can leads to making excuses, and i don't like making excuses. it also tends to cost more. when i bring my lunch from home, it always ends up being a fraction of the cost of lunch out.

the challenge, i believe, is to live life as i normally do, and let the mobility enhance my life, instead of letting it define me.

the apostle Paul wrote about this in his letter to Philippians, and his words always come back to me when i struggle with either side of the contentment issue...

I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. —Philippians 4:12

i am still learning...

doubt

i think if i had to pinpoint one flaw that most keeps me from doing and being all i can, it would have to be my super-human ability to doubt myself.

there aren't many areas of life where doubt and second guessing doesn't factor in. my writing {is what i'm writing really relevant, intelligent, informed, or am i simply spewing the ridiculous randomness in my head?}. the job {this design isn't as good as the last one. what if i never have a creative thought ever again? what if they find out i don't have a clue what i'm doing?}. even conversations that i have {did i really say that? she's going to think i am an idiot. why did i have to open my mouth at all?}.

all these things and more are subject to the harsh and glaring critic living inside my head,whose only job, it seems, is to constantly tell me that what i'm doing isn't good enough, creative enough, intelligent enough... or simply enough.

it's far too easy to let the questioning, negative voices actually run the show that is my life. and besides, i don't even like living like this! if i was wearing a pair of shoes that was so painful as to ruin my day, i wouldn't hesitate to change them. so why have i allowed doubt to inconvenience, and at times, even sabotage me?

i want to be done with the incessant self-doubting. i want to stop second guessing myself, and begin trusting in the gifts that God has given me. and if i make a mistake, then i pick up and go on from there.

there are enough things in life that serve to derail you from your purpose... there's no sense in adding to it.

control

while i wouldn't describe myself as a control freak, there have been those in my life who have wandered into that neighborhood, and made such an assertion.

okay, so i like to be in control. but let's not blow this out of perspective. i don't want supremacy over the whole world. i have no such secret ambitions. {now, if we were talking my own small island near the south of france, i think i would make a very good Queen Susanne... but we digress.}

all this to say, that while i may have degrees of desire to be in control, i wouldn't really call them issues. there are simply things that life goes better when i have the power to manage them.

let me say that this week, in my work life, there wasn't a great deal of control to be had. a new {and faulty} version of Photoshop took over my life, and refused to let me do my job. do you know what happens when i cannot do my job? i didn't, until it all came to a head yesterday, and while i won't go into all the details, let me just say that it isn't pretty. one thing that i definitely did not have control over yesterday was my reaction to the situation.

basically, as i sat at my desk, the fifth time i tried to do the one thing i needed to do to finish the sermon presentation for sunday, and the fifth time Photoshop crashed my computer in an hour, i had the grown up equivalent of a temper tantrum. there were tears—angry tears, definitely not the pretty kind. there was anger. there were pouty faces. there was grumbling.

i was a mess.

you want to believe that when life doesn't go your way that you will handle it with grace and poise. not to mention the reminder that even if Photoshop doesn't work ever again, God is still God, and in the big picture, nothing has changed.

i want to believe i am this person, but yesterday proved that i am not yet her.

being daily aware of the fact that i am not a perfect person, i rarely have illusions of sainthood. but the place i went to yesterday, simply because i could not do my job, has reminded me that i still have so far to go, there is still so much more inside me that needs to be illuminated by God's grace, and changed to be more like Jesus.

so far to go...

contentment

it seems that everyone has a season, or a time of year that makes them wish for another. for many, it is winter, and the desire for longer days, more sunshine, and less cold becomes the cry of their heart.

for me, it is summer. i find the heat draining, not just physically, but emotionally and creatively as well. so my tendency during these hot days is to dream of fall, of sweater weather, of walking accompanied by the crunch of brightly hued leaves underfoot. of pumpkin pies to be baked. of...

but the truth is i cannot live in the future. and even though right now my mind can conjure up almost exactly how a pie would smell if it were baking in the oven right now, it is not what is before me. what is before me, is a thursday in july. and even though, temperature-wise, it probably won't be my favorite thursday of the year, this is where i must live.

i love this poem by Wendell Berry, and how it helps me to remember that i am here, not in october, and that it's not a perfect world that i need to live in, but a better way of looking at the one i find myself in.

What We Need Is Here
—Wendell Berry

Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

more

as i was writing this morning, it became clear to me that writing wasn't the only thing i was doing. even as words made their way into the composition notebook, my mind was somewhere else, rehearsing all the things that had to be done before i would be ready for work. make the bed. put last night's dishes away. clean the sink in hopes that the faucet will get fixed today. make lunch.

sometimes i wonder why i cannot simply live in the moment i am in, without feeling the weight of every other moment to come, and all that will fill those moments. i cannot help but think that if i could find a better way to live in the moment, that perhaps i would want less.

all this reminds me of this Henry David Thoreau quote that has haunted my mind for years...

i went to the woods because i wanted to live deliberately,
i wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life,
to put to rout all that was not life
and not when i had come to die
discover that I had not lived.” —Henry David Thoreau

in these moments when my focus is split, i don't think it is possible to live deliberately. like the old cliche says, you can't be two places at once. perhaps in this age of multitasking, we are losing the ability to simply focus on one thing. one person. one task. whatever is right before you in that moment.

but then the little voice creeps in, why do one when you could do more?

when i design, i usually follow the less is more approach. but living that way is something i have yet to embrace. i always want more. but then, the line that i have quoted time and time again from the movie Sabrina hits me...

more isn't always better, Linus. sometimes it's just more.

i need the wisdom to know the difference.

re-malleable

{i originally wrote and posted this back in 2005. but the quote has been haunting me yet again, so i thought i would update and re-share it with you.}

i love margaret becker's writing. back before she wrote books, her songs haunted me, as though she lived inside my closet, her lyrics echoing all that was going on inside me. when i read her first book, about thirteen years ago, one line of With New Eyes struck me, and has continued to stick with me over the years. it has practically become my mantra.

the most that i could ever hope to be is malleable. someone who actually listens and considers a point. someone who does not see it as a loss to concede their wrongs. someone who is not afraid to change. with change comes the ability to be strong; because when one recognizes their own fallibility, the threat of it is diminished—and the freedom of growth develops. to be wrong is to be free.

the most that i could ever hope for is to be malleable. to this day, this remains my prayer. i am well aware of how stubborn i can be. no one gets called tête de pioche as a child because she is compliant. if left unchecked, that stubborn child makes far too many appearances.

i want to be able to see where i am in the light of where i've come from, all the while envisioning where i still need to go. in short, i want to not be the same tomorrow as i am today. i don't want my relationship with God never to change me. i don't want to be someone who, at best, others tolerate, because i refuse to let myself be changed.

the most i can hope for is to be malleable.

may this always be my prayer.

numbering

how did it get so late so soon?
it's night before it's afternoon.
december is here before its june.
my goodness how the time has flewn.
how did it get so late so soon? | dr. seuss

life really does go by so very fast. sitting down to write this morning, i was struck by the feeling that it was only moments ago that i was starting a friday, and had the weekend ahead of me. and here it was, already monday, with a whole week between the next weekend and i.

how does this happen?

Psalm 90:12 has a prayer i need to pray more as i move through my days...

teach us to realize the brevity of life,
        so that we may grow in wisdom. {NLT}

this is my prayer today.

rest

“Sometimes the most urgent thing you can possibly do is take a complete rest.” —Ashleigh Brilliant

yesterday, after a three and a half hour nap, i woke up with a sore throat. this morning, the sore throat has been joined by other cold-like symptoms. i can feel in my throat that i am once again on the verge of losing my voice.

this time, i am going to try something different. instead of pushing myself and thinking that i am all so invincible, and if i can just keep going, i will work through it, then ending up with laryngeal-tracheal bronchitis {as has happened twice in the last year}, i will rest today, and with the help of Advil C&S, tea and sleep, tomorrow will be a much brighter day.

let's see if this plan works better than the other one...

He is risen.

the Christian religion asks us to put our trust not in ideas, and certainly not in ideologies, but in a God who was vulnerable enough to become human and die, and who desires to be present to us in ordinary circumstances. | Kathleen Norris

* * * * *

today, after this morning's easter worship service at PORTICO, i will meet my dad at the airport, and we will drive down to the southern most part of the country, for the funeral of my uncle silvio.

i've never been on a road trip with just dad before. usually dad goes on road trips with my brothers, and when we lived in the same province, mom and i did go on one or two. so while the reason for the trip is one of sadness, i am happy for the chance to do this with my dad.

it is a wonderment to me that it has been over ten years since i have seen many of my aunts, uncles and cousins. it will be good to be among people with whom i share so much history.

i love this quote by Kathleen Norris, and it fits with how i'm feeling today. as much as we would like to believe that we are invincible, death is as much a part of life as birth. after all, tomorrow evening i will walk through the doors of the funeral home that only ten months ago i walked through to say good-bye to my grandfather for the last time.

two funerals in ten months.

in the past ten months, we have only had one new arrival to my immediate family, making the exit from this world more ordinary than the entrance.

i need a God whose desire is to be in my ordinary circumstances. mostly because i'm not always sure i can handle the commonplace on my own, even on a good day.

so, this morning, my heart is filled with gratitude and worship for this risen Jesus.

He is risen, indeed.

small-minded

i caught wind of this story on the Today Show last week, about two sisters, 83 and 87 years old, one of whom is suing the other over a $500,000 lottery win.

it seems that at one point, given their collective passion for gambling and all things lottery, they had an agreement to split all winnings. then there was a falling out {they don't even remember the cause} in 2004, and they haven't spoken since.

until one of the sisters bought a lottery ticket with their brother, and they won $500,000. now, the ousted sister wants her share.

she doesn't want to come to Easter dinner, but she wants her money.

"I miss her so much, and I love her, and I don't like what's taken place," Sokaitis said. "But all I want is what is rightfully mine. All I want is my share, nothing more."

* * * * *

i shake my head and wonder at the ridiculousness of this. how could you get so far into life, and have money be more important than a sibling?!

but as my head stops shaking, there is a little voice inside my head pointing out all the petty, insignificant things that i tend to put in front of my relationships.

        unforgiveness for a careless word spoken in my direction.
        a favor unreturned.
        hurt feelings.
        unreal expectations.

and while suing others would be absurd, i tend to withhold kindness, friendship, words...making me no worse than these two sisters— no, worse than them, because i have already judged them ridiculous for their pettiness, while standing in a cesspool of my own small-mindedness.

much as i laughed initially, i find myself thankful for this story, and for the spotlight it has shown into the darkness of my own soul.

wasted

you know how every once in a while you have to do something, it doesn't really matter what it is, and for whatever reason {procrastination, fear, unsure of how to do it well or perfectly, etc.}, you put off doing it right away.

then it gets a bit bigger. so you wait a little longer.

then it gets bigger. surely you cannot do it at this time.

then it gets even bigger.

then it is huge.

and what at one time was just a thing to do, has now become this huge, looming undertaking that is closer to impossible than you'd like to imagine.

this has happened to me recently, and i hate the feeling of helplessness that accompanies it. i don't want to be the girl who is afraid to face the hard things, even when they are hard only because of my own decisions.

so, this morning, when i woke up at 5:00 am, instead of doing my Life Journal and writing as the plan usually is, i had to pull out some old boxes filled with stuff i haven't seen in a really long time, and search for things that i wasn't sure were still going to be there.

but they were.

i found them.


the time spent worrying and wondering was wasted, as everything i need is sitting in the desk drawer beside me as i type this.

when will i learn?