hilarious...

i have always, and will forever remain, a lover of old fashioned, paper books.
although, i may not go this far...

seeing

as much as i loved the angel's two questions from yesterday, my favorite part of Hagar's story happens at the end.

between the angel's instructions and Hagar's return to Abram and Sarai's house, there is sandwiched a verse that is brilliance.

She [Hagar] gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” {v. 13}

the God who sees me. this reminds me of a quote i first read in a book over a decade ago that has resonated in my soul since...

to me, one of the proofs that God's hand is behind and all throughout this marvelous book we know as the Bible is the way it continually touches upon this very fear in us--the fear that we are so insignificant as to be forgotten. that we are nothing. unconsciously, his Word meets this fear, and answers it. {Amy Carmichael}

the majority of the self-imposed stupidity of my life happens because i forget that God sees me. i feel forgotten and insecure and insignificant, these feelings cause me to say the stupidest words, do the stupidest things.

the story is silent as to what happened when Hagar returns to Abram and Sarai. it says nothing of the reception she got when she walked back into the tent. no mention of whether or not the situation changed. this is all it says:

So Hagar bore Abram a son, and Abram gave the name Ishmael to the son she had borne. {v. 15}

the only change was that Hagar had a new name for her God, and with this new name, came the realization that she was seen and heard.

how many self-induced problems would be eliminated if i could remember this...

questions

yet another reason that i love my job: yesterday i was able to attend the Leading From A Healthy Soul one day conference.

Mark Buchanan, who wrote one of my favorite books, The Rest of God, opened the conference by talking about the story of Abram, Sarai and Hagar from Genesis 16. let me tell you about it...

God promises Abram that he will have a son and heirs as countless as the stars in the sky. Sarai doesn't get pregnant. Abram and Sarai get old. Sarai takes matters into her own hands. Abram doesn't object strongly enough. Enter Hagar, Sarai's maidservant, who is handed over from Sarai to Abram {which apparently worked back then}. Hagar gets pregnant, then treats Sarai with contempt. Sarai, no longer impressed with her solution, blames Abram, whose own solution is that Sarai can treat Hagar however she wants. Sarai treats Hagar like crap. Hagar runs away.

now you're caught up. this is where it gets good.

Hagar is out in the desert, when an angel appears and asks her two questions:

"Hagar, Sarai's servant, where have you come from, and where are you going?"
{v. 8}

* * * * *

at this point, Mr. Buchanan compared the angel's questions to that timeless classic, Monty Python's The Holy Grail. The old man standing at the bridge asking three questions to allow people to pass.

what is your name?
what is your quest?
what is your favorite color?

these questions deal with the core of who we are.

what is your name? / who are you? identity
what is your quest?/ where are you going? destiny
what is your favorite color? (obviously not asked by the angel) passion

* * * * *

back to the story. Hagar, only able to answer the first of the angel's questions, is sent back to the sucky situation. then, as if the return isn't bad enough, he has more good news, this time about the baby she is carrying,

This son of yours will be a wild man, as untamed as a wild donkey! He will raise his fist against everyone, and everyone will be against him. Yes, he will live in open hostility against all his relatives." {v. 12}

i'm not a mother, but i cannot imagine anyone getting too excited about this. you can pretty much feel the foreshadowing of parent/teacher conferences and other discipline issues settling around you with these words.

but despite this, Hagar focused on something different, which i'll write about tomorrow... {stay tuned!}

for now, i want to leave you with the angel's two questions, the same questions Mark asked those attending the conference. let them sink into your soul and don't rush the answers.

who are you?

where are you going?

review: Find Your Strongest Life by Marcus Buckingham

call me what you will, but i am always a bit wary whenever i pick up a book that is solely for women. as a single, never-been-married, never-had-a-child woman, it has been my experience that most books written solely for we of the fairer sex deal more in the realm of the wife and mother than simply being a woman, thus alienating anyone whose life path has taken them elsewhere.

marcus buckingham’s new book, finding your strongest life: what the happiest and most successful women do differently, was a happy kind of exception to that rule. while he does deal with these responsibilities, the principles that he lays out for living a strong life transcend external roles, and are as applicable in the boardroom as they are at starbucks with friends or in the family kitchen.

dealing with core issues that we face as humans, mr. buckingham’s book takes his reader on a journey of self-discovery, including finding direction for your life from the myriad of choices there are available and being true to yourself, whoever you are.

being an unashamed ‘test’ nerd, i loved the online strong life test, which quickly helps a woman determine the role she was born to play, advisor, caretaker, influencer, motivator, etc. the best part, however, was after taking the test, armed with what your lead and supporting roles, chapter seven explains them, providing examples of strongest moments and ways to expand that role in your life.

using examples of real women, find your strongest life is a good place to start for those looking to get out of the ruts we too easily find ourselves in. filled with useful information, mr. buckingham’s book can be a catalyst to your strongest life.

voices

since grampa died, i have not been focused on writing as i was before. to be honest, it's been a very dry spell.

with this realization come the questions...

what if this crazy writer thing is just something that i desire, not something i actually am? what if all my dreams in this realm are merely illusions or worse…delusions? i read the words of others who move me, and realize that while i have things inside of me to say, i currently am not able to remove them from me. and that is what a writer needs to do… detach from themselves the words, angst, emotion, ideas, and smear them onto paper.

am i too lazy? do i not give my voice the opportunity to emerge? why is it far easier to stare at a screen, play solitaire or even clean than to wrestle with what is inside me to the point where it can come out and become an entity of its own?

and then, after what has been so firmly a part of you is down on paper {or the blogosphere}, it is subject to the world and all its opinions. to criticism, first from the unending critic inside of me, then to the world at large. do i want to subject this piece of myself to such hostility?

but the opposite is equally as unappealing as well. to sit alone in a room with all the unrealized words, dreams, thoughts, ideas living inside of me... making me feel that i am living only a shadow...

i write not because i want to, but because i have to.

“if you hear a voice within you saying, ''you are not a painter,'' then by all means paint… and that voice will be silenced.” {Vincent van Gogh}

i pray this works for writers as well...

$4.16

i wasn't going to turn my computer on when i got home last night. it was almost 11 pm, and i had been at the church since 8:30 am, and wanted nothing more than to find myself fast asleep in the comfort of my bed.

but my growling stomach had other plans... so while i was waiting for the eggo waffle to toast, i hit the 'on' button, waited as my dinosaur home computer powered up, and checked my email.

while taking my first bite of the syrup-covered yumminess, i saw an email that i didn't expect.

* * * * *

let me backtrack to early august. willow creek's leadership summit, as always, introduced their audience to a number of people who are impacting the world in different ways. one of those people was jessica jackley, whose organization KIVA, helps connect people who have $25 they can spare to loan with people who need microfinancing to help get on their feet. KIVA's website explains what they do as, "KIVA lets you lend to a specific entrepreneur, empowering them to life themselves out of poverty."

so when i got home that night, i sat down at this same computer and donated my first $25 to a group of women in the dominican republic. hoping to inspire others, i even emailed a few friends to join me in the venture.

* * * * *

back to last night.

the email subject read, 'your KIVA credit is now ready for use'. to be honest, i had no idea what it was talking about, until i opened the email and saw that the group from the dominican republic had already made two payments on the loan they received, my share being $2.08 of each payment. hence the email, acknowledging my credit of $4.16, which i could either relend, withdraw or donate.

i don't know about you, but sometimes i find that the cynicism and pessimism about the world we live in is overwhelming. i don't think that i actually expected to see any of the investment i had originally made. but somehow, this $4.16, which in mississauga couldn't even buy you a happy meal at mcdonald's, makes me feel as though some of the more cynical parts of me were somehow being silenced.

i went to sleep content in the realization that you don't have to change the whole world, or write it off as hopeless... you only need to do whatever you can, and if you're really, really lucky, you get to do it again.

october

happy october!

october is perhaps one of the happiest of months, as it is the entryway to all things fall and orange and gold and dark red and pumpkin.

to celebrate this joyous month, here is a poem capturing the essence of my most favorite of seasons.

october
by robert frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
To-morrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
To-morrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow,
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know;
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away;
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.