Who holds my hand {#247-258}

For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, 'Fear not, I am the one who helps you.' {Isaiah 41:13}

There are times, when looking at certain situations in my life, that the overwhelming emotion is one of hopelessness.

A bad habit to overcome.

Situations well beyond my control.

Good changes that never seem to stick around for more than a few days.

Somehow, I get it into my head that if I only try harder, then it will all work out. That it will mean more if I can do it myself, and then bring it to God to show Him that He is right in loving me, because I am not a total failure.

And to make things worse, the harder I try, the bigger and grander failure and disappointment seems to be... and the more alone it all makes me feel.

And then I come across a verse like Isaiah 41:13, and am reminded that I was never supposed to go it alone. I once again remember Who it is who holds my hand, and when He whispers, 'Don't be afraid, I am here to help you', it is not a reprimand, but a reminder of truth. And that I was never meant to do it all on my own, but rather to walk with my God, who wants me to trust him.

I need to remember Who holds my hand...

* * * * *

Today I am thankful for...

247:: He who holds my hand.

248:: that Jayden's bedsore is healing!

249:: butternut squash pasta with butternut squash pasta sauce. pure yum...

250:: a brand new jar of sweet pickles.

251:: a super comfy Roots chair to take a Sunday afternoon nap in.

252:: my beautiful, beautiful niece, Megan.

253:: that there are only 74 days left until I get on a plane to go to my happy place.

254:: books, and the ability to read.

255:: living so close to the GO station, making trips to downtown Toronto so very easy.

256:: emails that make me smile.

257:: a job that I love!

258:: that every day is a new chance to trust God more.

Ah, fear...

#Trust30 Writing Prompt

The other terror that scares us from self-trust is our consistency; a reverence for our past act or word, because the eyes of others have no other data for computing our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath to disappoint them. —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Emerson says: “Always do what you are afraid to do.” What is ‘too scary’ to write about? Try doing it now. (Author: Mary Jaksch)

* * * * *

Ah, fear.

For a long time I had convinced myself that fear played no real part in my life. But the reality is that even if you put a different label on something, it doesn't actually change what it is. As I write this, I cannot help but hear Juliet's infamous quote, as written by William Shakespeare,

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."

By the same token, calling fear anything else, does not change what it actually is.

So, what is it that I fear?

I. fear. failure.

You have no idea how much those three words pain me. They are just so banal. So common. So prosaic.

So everything that I don't want to be in my life.

But it is true. I fear failure. It keeps me from trying things that I really want to do. It intimidates me when I lie awake at night, taunting, telling me that what I have done, what I can do, isn't enough, and never will be enough. It prods me towards procrastination. Makes me second guess and question the validity of both my design and writing work. It makes me stay in the safe, well-lit playgrounds of creativity instead of heading out to discover the dark, undiscovered, dangerous ones. Keeps me silent, for fear of being wrong, or thought stupid. It keeps me craving a perfection that does not exist, ignoring the beauty that is right before me.

When it all comes down to it, fearing failure is kind of ridiculous. How can you get anywhere without learning, and what better way to learn than first-hand experience?

And besides, for someone who has failed as often as I have, and gotten up and kept going, shouldn't I be less afraid of something that I know isn't actually fatal?

What a beautiful grace that the fears, and failures of our past, do not have to define us, so long as we don't let them.

Choosing to be brave...

soul health vs. soul neglect

Sitting at Starbucks last night, before my small group arrived, I was going through my Moleskine reporter notebook, reading over notes I had taken at the Leading From a Healthy Soul conference.

In one of the sessions, Mindy Caliguire explained the difference between a healthy soul, and one that has been neglected. Here are the symptoms of each:


Symptoms of soul neglect:

• fear
• defensiveness
• impatience
• lack of love
• lose sight of why we do what we do
• driven-ness
• isolation
• insomnia
• physical symptoms: digestive problems, headaches, etc.
• apathy
• judgmental
  
• rushed
• irritable
• insecurity

Symptoms of soul health:

• joyful composure
• fearless
  
• peace in real time, in all circumstances
• optimism/hope
• humility
• passion
• clarity
• affection for pursuing God
• flexibility
• forgiveness
• gentleness
• kindness
• fresh vision
• supernatural strength
• words of life
• opposite of bitterness

Re-reading this list has been a good wake up call for me. When too many of the first list start to make an appearance in my life, it's time for some 'soul spa' days.

What about you? How's your soul?

beauty of poetry

I have always been fascinated by spoken word poetry. It's something that I have often thought I would like to try, but don't think I have been brave enough.

Or maybe that is just a fancy way of saying that I have been afraid.

This morning, I watched this TED talk video. Dave Gibbons tweeted the link, and as I listened to this poet, she has inspired me to begin writing poetry again. It's long, a little over 18 minutes, but it is well worth it.



I'm honestly not sure why I stopped writing poetry in the first place. Perhaps because in the glare of everyday life, poetry sometimes seems frivolous. But can beauty every truly be frivolous? And for one who is embracing and exploring the idea of beauty this year, could poetry be overlooked in this journey? Sitting here in the quiet morning, I don't think so.

Perhaps, given that fact that recently I have begun reading the works of more poets—Christina Rossetti, Luci Shaw, Emily Dickinson, Rilke—I am now ripe to begin again for myself. To start the journey, and see where it takes me.

I guess we'll find out...

good days

first, let me say that if you do not have Prayers for a Privileged People by Walter Brueggeman, go here and buy it now. it is brilliant in the way it illuminates the nuances of human nature that too often we convince ourselves aren't even really there.

that being said, i read this one this morning, and it has become my prayer for today.

Salvation Oracles
on reading Isaiah 43:1-5

There is a long list of threats around us:
  terror,
  cancer,
  falling markets,
  killing,
  others unlike us in all their variety,
  loneliness,
  shame,
  death—
  the list goes on and we know it well.

And in the midst of threat of every kind,
  you appear among us in your full power,
      in your deep fidelity,
      in your amazing compassion.
  You speak among us the one word that could matter:
          "Do not fear."

And we, in our several fearfulnesses, are jarred by your utterance.
  On a good day, we know that your sovereign word is true.
  So give us good days by your rule,
      free enough to rejoice,
      open enough to change,
      trusting enough to move out of new obedience
      grace enough to be forgiven and then to forgive.

We live you your word. Speak it to us through the night,
    that we may have many good days through your gift.

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?

too alone

tonight is one of those nights. actually, it's been this whole day.

i know that Jesus said not to worry.

        but i'm worrying.

fear is on the 'avoid' list as well.

        i am more fearful than i want to let on.

there is a world of difference between alone and lonely.

        in this moment, how i wish i were simply alone.

i know it won't last. and i am aware that Sundays sometimes bring this out in me, especially when i know that my family is 2689 kilometers away laughing and playing games in my parent's new kitchen, as i sit alone here in mine.

when i am feeling this way, i crave the words of my favorite poet, Ranier Maria Rilke. this is from his Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, and there are few inanimate objects on earth than i love more than this book. {although, i do wish i still had my copy...}

I am too alone in the world
by Ranier Maria Rilke

I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough
to make every hour holy.
I am too small in the world, and yet not tiny enough
just to stand before you like a thing,
dark and shrewd.
I want my will, and I want to be with my will
as it moves towards deed;
and in those quiet, somehow hesitating times,
when something is approaching,
I want to be with those who are wise
or else alone.
I want always to be a mirror that reflects your whole being,
and never to be too blind or too old
to hold your heavy, swaying image.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere do I want to remain folded,
because where I am bent and folded, there I am untrue.
And I want my meaning
true for you. I want to describe myself
like a painting that I studied
closely for a long, long time,
like a word I finally understood,
like the pitcher of water I use every day,
like the face of my mother,
like a ship
that carried me
through the deadliest storm of all.

Rilke writes things so much more breathtakingly beautiful than i can sometimes endure.

...where I am bent and folded, i am untrue.

i also desire to be unfolded, and true. the process is seldom a painless one, and in these times when i must face that which i would rather not, i must remember that the gain is worth whatever the unfolding brings.


        i want to unfold.

speak

there are some books that can only be read over time. Walter Brueggemann's Prayers for a Privileged People is just such a book.

this morning, i read the poem entitled, Salvation Oracles, and felt compelled to share its brilliance with you.

Salvation Oracles by Walter Brueggemann
on reading Isaiah 43:1-5

there is a long list of threats around us:
terror,
cancer,
falling markets,
killing,
other unlike us in all their variety,
loneliness,
shame,
the list goes on and we know it well.

and in the midst of threat of every kind,
you appear among us in your full poers,
in your deep fidelity,
in your amazing compassion.
you speak among us the one word that could matter:
"do not fear."

and we, in our several fearfulnesses, are jarred by your utterance.
on a good day, we know that your sovereign word is true.
so give us good days by your rule,
free enough to rejoice,
open enough to change,
trusting enough to move out of new obedience,
grace enough to be forgiven and then forgive.

we live you your word. speak it to us through the night,
that we may have many good days through your gift.