I have chills right now - and it's not from the cold. If I ever needed motivation for anything, I just got it, from an unexpected person. I will not go into detail to protect the person's privacy but our devotions today were about personal "hurricanes." And someone shared theirs in such an open, honest and beautiful way. Ironically, it put everything into perspective for me. Yeah, that sounds selfish but it isn't. It was a kind of 2x4 from God, saying, "Wake up, girl! This is what you need to think about and to write about." I found my voice; I don't mean in the traditional writing way. I mean that what I want and need to have entertwined in my stories is the human condition. Even if it's a totally off-the-wall setting or situation, the underlying theme needs to be something to do with everyday feelings, emotions and, ultimately, how we have separated ourselves from God - bringing us to our current meager existance.
That's who Ellen is. She is the example, extreme I'll agree, but nevertheless the perfect example of our separation from God and our desire to find our way back to him. It's going to take work to get her there; but she can be saved just as easily and we can be. And my personal faith needs to be a part of her character. It is what I know the most about - how someone doesn't know Him but knows He exists. But, personally, I think I kind of stopped when I found out who He was. I haven't kept up my relationship in the way that He, or I, would like. Today's devotion convicted me deeply of that; and how I need to take it easy on my friends 'cause though I don't see my friends in the way that was discussed, they are still my friends. It might just take me opening my eyes to see that.
So now that I know why I haven't been able to let go of this story or this character, I better get back to it, huh? :-)
9.28.2004
Why Can't I See the Future?
Sometimes I wish I could see the future. Of course, then I think, "What if I don't like the future looks like?" I mean, look around us. Some of us, like myself, have become oblivious to just how bad things are. I live in the nation that was once feared (at least, after the H-bomb). In history, we are the only ones to use a weapon of that magnitude against anybody; and once used, the world grew silent. Because we all realized that, though it stopped a war, it could have been the beginning of the end for many of the world. Now, it seems that no one is afraid of us. We can see that democracy is not perfect; but it's still the best government we have. In our country, though, the reason it was created and based upon has gotten lost. It's so sad. And then again can't we all see that it was bound to happen especially with the way that it was created? This country was founded as a religious haven to all, not just the Christians. It was founded on Christian beliefs and by those who were followers of Christ; but they went one step further and opened their borders to all religions - it says so in the Constitution itself. At some point, there is going to be conflict between those religions - and guess what - the Constitution allows it. But what angers me is that the whole purpose, reason, the one religion that this country was found upon is the one that is becoming "not acceptable." Are we so far removed from our birth that we don't know the One who gave us life? This country is a gift from God; though you can argue that it wasn't a gift at all with the way we stole it from the native peoples. Yes, I said "we." I'm as much to blame as anyone. You see, my family gets it's main roots from the Portuguese and historically, the Portuguese were the first to bring slaves out of Africa. Though my family didn't come to this country until the early 1900's our heritage is not so wonderful either because of slavery. I'm not saying that we ever had slaves back there because I don't know much of my family beyond my great grandfather - but we belong to a race who did. I'm sure if you take every race who has come to this country to flee religious persecution, you will see some of the same type of violent history in them, too. So, if you broke it down and thought of it in simple terms, human beings are guilty of much oppression within it's own race.
How sick that makes me sometimes. Especially since I know that I'm no better. I don't believe in slavery in any form (whether it's sweat shops, gangs, etc.) nor do I like any kind of war. But what makes me no better is that I don't contribute in ways that I am able to where I am at. Like most others, I am for myself an aweful lot of the time. I am clouded to everything else. I say the next thing with a little hesitation because I don't want anyone to groan - but of late I've been watching a lot of Star Wars so what I'm about to say will reflect that: when I said clouded, it's like this dark side has obstructed my view; I can't see anything paste this dense cloud surrounding the Force of my life (it occured to me last night, too, that George Lucas needs to give some props to God; a lot of the story is reminiscent of the birth of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior and God's own Son sent to save us from ourselves). Here's what I mean: I want to be in love. I want to be married and have kids. I want to see if that is really and truly in my future. On the other hand, what if, no matter how hard I try, my marraige fails and my kids don't turn out well. I don't want that. I don't want to see that; if I did I would have no hope for the future. And isn't hope something we all need? Jesus gives me hope that no matter how much I screw up, if I believe in Him and try my best I will have eternal life. But, on this earth I will have no hope if I have nothing here to hope for. Is that a good thing? Right now, I don't think so because hope is a way to bring people to Christ. They can find rest, hope in Him. So if I don't have any hope then how am I supposed to affect the kingdom? So, maybe seeing the future isn't that great of a desire; no matter how I struggle with my thoughts of a future love, children and grandchildren. It's a struggle that I want to have; if it's in God's Will for me to give others hope. Because that's what I can do: hope for the future. I can't see the future so I can hope and pray and believe that it will be better and be good; I can be positive in these times of uncertainty, war and hatred and pull my fellow neighbors out of their dark sides so they can see the Son, and live wealthy through Him.
How sick that makes me sometimes. Especially since I know that I'm no better. I don't believe in slavery in any form (whether it's sweat shops, gangs, etc.) nor do I like any kind of war. But what makes me no better is that I don't contribute in ways that I am able to where I am at. Like most others, I am for myself an aweful lot of the time. I am clouded to everything else. I say the next thing with a little hesitation because I don't want anyone to groan - but of late I've been watching a lot of Star Wars so what I'm about to say will reflect that: when I said clouded, it's like this dark side has obstructed my view; I can't see anything paste this dense cloud surrounding the Force of my life (it occured to me last night, too, that George Lucas needs to give some props to God; a lot of the story is reminiscent of the birth of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior and God's own Son sent to save us from ourselves). Here's what I mean: I want to be in love. I want to be married and have kids. I want to see if that is really and truly in my future. On the other hand, what if, no matter how hard I try, my marraige fails and my kids don't turn out well. I don't want that. I don't want to see that; if I did I would have no hope for the future. And isn't hope something we all need? Jesus gives me hope that no matter how much I screw up, if I believe in Him and try my best I will have eternal life. But, on this earth I will have no hope if I have nothing here to hope for. Is that a good thing? Right now, I don't think so because hope is a way to bring people to Christ. They can find rest, hope in Him. So if I don't have any hope then how am I supposed to affect the kingdom? So, maybe seeing the future isn't that great of a desire; no matter how I struggle with my thoughts of a future love, children and grandchildren. It's a struggle that I want to have; if it's in God's Will for me to give others hope. Because that's what I can do: hope for the future. I can't see the future so I can hope and pray and believe that it will be better and be good; I can be positive in these times of uncertainty, war and hatred and pull my fellow neighbors out of their dark sides so they can see the Son, and live wealthy through Him.
9.15.2004
After the waves
I am back from vacation; and it's a life-altering return. My vacation could have included many other things but it consisted of all the things that I "needed" as opposed to what I wanted. And that's okay with me. The ten minutes I spent walking along the beach was enough for me to realize certain things about myself, my place in my job, my relationships with my friends and my purpose in life. Yeah, kind of deep, huh? I'm not really a deep person; I'm an emotional person but not a very deep one. I think I just found my inner deepness - if that's even a word.
I also found my version of Willoway Brook. It's Bird Rock on 17 Mile Drive in Monterey, CA (if you're picky, it's probably technically Pacific Grove but whatever). I only walked it for 10 minutes but to take a few deep breaths of crisp ocean air (as deep as anyone with a bad cold could) was really revitalizing. The soft sand churning beneath my feet, which were carefully avoiding the jellyfish washed up along the shore (they sting even when they're dead or dying); my eyes finding small muscle shells devoid of their previous owner but beautiful when reflecting the light of the sun. I brought the first one (and the smallest) I found home with me. It sits on my dresser in my bedroom. Each time I walk by I'm reminded of the precious time I spent walking on that stretch of beach, climbing a few of the rocks to watch the waves crash against them, the salty water filling the many small tide pools in between and around, missing me completely. But it was dangerously close to high tide so back to the high beach I walked avoiding this time the seeweed displaced from it's ocean home. There were only two women who walked past me and huddled between two rocks further up and higher on the beach, reading thier books. But, besides them, it was only me - and my breathing and my heart beating. In the background, there was the sound of the small waves rolling continuously toward the beach and a seagull's squack in the distance but other than that it was just me, for once, at peace. I grew up close to the ocean. I never lived more than 2 1/2 hours away - but it wasn't until those very ten minutes that I remember feeling so connected to it. At first I thought that it was just because it was the first time in awhile that I was able to be alone and without stress. But there was just something about it that was different. And then I realized that I was an idiot. If you look in my bedroom today, you can see just how much I really love the ocean. I have pictures on my wall of it; my bed linens and bedspread is named "Blue Lagoon," there are parfait glasses filled with colored sand to match the bedspread, and I even have a small Yankee candle that smells like ocean water (with the same name). And if you could look into my head and see what I have planned to add to my room, you'll see visions of palm tree leaves lining the top of the three full walls of my bedroom as the border. I am in love with the ocean and I never knew it. No wonder I felt so at peace; I've missed it so much that I've been trying to replicate it in my own home! And, by extension, my office. Everything is blue, like the ocean. Coincidence? Maybe. But I think that my subconscious is working overtime to give me a sense of peace any way it can. I do feel more at peace, though things for the time being are not better (work, home, spiritual). But at least I see a light and see a path opening. And today's meeting helped that - though I have mixed feelings about the whole thing. Still, at least I know and they know - that's all I asked for, really.
I also found my version of Willoway Brook. It's Bird Rock on 17 Mile Drive in Monterey, CA (if you're picky, it's probably technically Pacific Grove but whatever). I only walked it for 10 minutes but to take a few deep breaths of crisp ocean air (as deep as anyone with a bad cold could) was really revitalizing. The soft sand churning beneath my feet, which were carefully avoiding the jellyfish washed up along the shore (they sting even when they're dead or dying); my eyes finding small muscle shells devoid of their previous owner but beautiful when reflecting the light of the sun. I brought the first one (and the smallest) I found home with me. It sits on my dresser in my bedroom. Each time I walk by I'm reminded of the precious time I spent walking on that stretch of beach, climbing a few of the rocks to watch the waves crash against them, the salty water filling the many small tide pools in between and around, missing me completely. But it was dangerously close to high tide so back to the high beach I walked avoiding this time the seeweed displaced from it's ocean home. There were only two women who walked past me and huddled between two rocks further up and higher on the beach, reading thier books. But, besides them, it was only me - and my breathing and my heart beating. In the background, there was the sound of the small waves rolling continuously toward the beach and a seagull's squack in the distance but other than that it was just me, for once, at peace. I grew up close to the ocean. I never lived more than 2 1/2 hours away - but it wasn't until those very ten minutes that I remember feeling so connected to it. At first I thought that it was just because it was the first time in awhile that I was able to be alone and without stress. But there was just something about it that was different. And then I realized that I was an idiot. If you look in my bedroom today, you can see just how much I really love the ocean. I have pictures on my wall of it; my bed linens and bedspread is named "Blue Lagoon," there are parfait glasses filled with colored sand to match the bedspread, and I even have a small Yankee candle that smells like ocean water (with the same name). And if you could look into my head and see what I have planned to add to my room, you'll see visions of palm tree leaves lining the top of the three full walls of my bedroom as the border. I am in love with the ocean and I never knew it. No wonder I felt so at peace; I've missed it so much that I've been trying to replicate it in my own home! And, by extension, my office. Everything is blue, like the ocean. Coincidence? Maybe. But I think that my subconscious is working overtime to give me a sense of peace any way it can. I do feel more at peace, though things for the time being are not better (work, home, spiritual). But at least I see a light and see a path opening. And today's meeting helped that - though I have mixed feelings about the whole thing. Still, at least I know and they know - that's all I asked for, really.
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