My roommate Halley very recently wrote a fantastic blog post entitled "Losing My Life." It resonated very deeply with me as I continue in my journey to adulthood... this leaving and cleaving business is so very, very hard. I assure you, her post is well worth your time.
Copy and paste the link below into your browser to access her blog: (it's the Nov 17 entry)
http://wisewomanhalley.livejournal.com/
Monday, November 22, 2010
the diatonic dittymunch
The Diatonic Dittymunch
plucked music from the air,
He swallowed scores of symphonies
and still had space to spare.
Sonatas and cantatas
slithered sweetly down his throat;
He made ballads into salads
and consumed them note by note.
He ate marches and mazurkas,
he ate rhapsodies and reels,
Minuets and tarantellas
were the staples of his meals.
But the Diatonic Dittymunch
outdid himself one day:
He ate a three-act opera --
and LOUDLY passed away.
-- Jack Prelutsky
plucked music from the air,
He swallowed scores of symphonies
and still had space to spare.
Sonatas and cantatas
slithered sweetly down his throat;
He made ballads into salads
and consumed them note by note.
He ate marches and mazurkas,
he ate rhapsodies and reels,
Minuets and tarantellas
were the staples of his meals.
But the Diatonic Dittymunch
outdid himself one day:
He ate a three-act opera --
and LOUDLY passed away.
-- Jack Prelutsky
Thursday, November 18, 2010
American Excess: Imagine Thanksgiving Without It
Seriously powerful article from NPR: "We have built a world based on mindless consumption, premised on fantasies of endless abundance, all of which have been subsidized by vulnerable people around the world..."
Copy and paste the link below into your browser to view the full article:
http://www.npr.org/2010/11/12/131265342/american-excess-imagine-thanksgiving-without-it
Copy and paste the link below into your browser to view the full article:
http://www.npr.org/2010/11/12/131265342/american-excess-imagine-thanksgiving-without-it
Saturday, November 13, 2010
cleaving
Tonight I have very few words. Well, I'm starting out that way at least... I'm lost in thought... thoughts about how I really feel about my current situation. I think I've been repressing things for a while now in the hopes that I can speak positively to myself and stave off negativity...
Can I just say that at this time in my life I feel like nobody is there to take care of me? I recently nannied for a friend from Mizzou who now has a 5-month-old. She's married and is doing what she loves professionally and is completely happy, supported both emotionally and financially by a husband who loves her dearly. And Halley too... Halley is desperately in love with a guy who supports her emotionally and wants to marry her before next October (sooner if they can get away with it, I think). So I've been thinking about all this recently and my overriding thought is this: "Hmm, must be nice." To feel so loved and supported by another person, that is...
This is not to diminish the role my family plays. But in the process of becoming an adult, there's a certain amount of "leaving" that takes place. And if there's nobody to "cleave" to, it all of sudden feels very disorienting. I realize this is the normal process for young Americans. But there's something inside me that screams out at the injustice of suddenly feeling lost and on my own. And maybe this is just me tonight, mourning a number of different things... hard things that have happened in my personal life recently, particularly in my family and with different males. The process seems to be circular in nature: wrong guy, family crap, wrong guy, family crap... which probably sounds really whiny and petty to you, dear Reader. But whenever I feel the need to defend my feelings, I always go back to what Beth Moore says: if you felt it, then it means something. Tonight I feel the lament quite deeply. End defense. This is my story, not yours.
This is not about the desire to be married in the next 6-8 months, or even a year from now. This is about the feelings of displacement and disillusionment that come with being on your own. Right now I feel like I'm cleaving to... no one. Except the Lord, that is. And there are days when even that is questionable.
And maybe, just maybe, if nothing happens outside of God's will, then maybe I'm right where he wants me: sad and angry about so many different things... so aware of my need for him, ...depending on him not only for my emotional well-being but for my very survival in this world right now...
This summer I read a book called "The Talent Code" by Daniel Coyle, which, by the way, is a fantastic book. In it, Coyle talks about how human skill is cultivated... the brain mechanism by which it is derived, if you will. He discusses world-class expertise and how it is developed in human beings. In one part he mentions that many world-class experts, particularly the ones who are most famous (aka who became the best of the best... the ones you've heard of, whose names are household idioms) had a common motivational fire under their butt, driving them towards their success: the loss of a parent at a young age.
I do not claim to be a world-class expert or even someone who is on my way to becoming a world-class expert. I just claim to be a girl who's recently had the experience of understanding exactly what it feels like to all of a sudden feel like nobody's there to take care of you anymore... that you've gotta make it on your own somehow in this world. And maybe I need to just give that the weight it deserves... I think I keep dismissing it in my mind as something that's not important and something I need to just get over and move on from. But what I really need more than anything is to be healed from my past hurts... maybe sometimes in order to do that though, you have to recognize where you're at and work backward?
In one of my most recent counseling sessions, I spoke with Lynn about how I feel like I have no one to work through my problems with anymore, aside from her and occasionally Halley. And of course that's obviously the entire point of where I'm at: God isn't going to just let my faith disappear in the pleasures of what I think I want... not when he himself is enough. He gives us what we actually want and need when it is good for us. It's all of a sudden a deeper trust I'm learning... I have a God who has promised to be my counselor. And not just in a feel-good about myself, fit-my-specific problems and worldview kind of way, but in a "for reasons that you don't understand, beloved, I want you at the throne daily with not just your requests for providence and wisdom and deeper understanding of scripture, but bringing me your mourning and laments and hurts -- past, present, and future -- that scream out for healing now" kind of way.
The book of Romans assures me on multiple occasions that I'm united with Christ by his death and resurrection... He is the one I can cleave to wholeheartedly.
Can I just say that at this time in my life I feel like nobody is there to take care of me? I recently nannied for a friend from Mizzou who now has a 5-month-old. She's married and is doing what she loves professionally and is completely happy, supported both emotionally and financially by a husband who loves her dearly. And Halley too... Halley is desperately in love with a guy who supports her emotionally and wants to marry her before next October (sooner if they can get away with it, I think). So I've been thinking about all this recently and my overriding thought is this: "Hmm, must be nice." To feel so loved and supported by another person, that is...
This is not to diminish the role my family plays. But in the process of becoming an adult, there's a certain amount of "leaving" that takes place. And if there's nobody to "cleave" to, it all of sudden feels very disorienting. I realize this is the normal process for young Americans. But there's something inside me that screams out at the injustice of suddenly feeling lost and on my own. And maybe this is just me tonight, mourning a number of different things... hard things that have happened in my personal life recently, particularly in my family and with different males. The process seems to be circular in nature: wrong guy, family crap, wrong guy, family crap... which probably sounds really whiny and petty to you, dear Reader. But whenever I feel the need to defend my feelings, I always go back to what Beth Moore says: if you felt it, then it means something. Tonight I feel the lament quite deeply. End defense. This is my story, not yours.
This is not about the desire to be married in the next 6-8 months, or even a year from now. This is about the feelings of displacement and disillusionment that come with being on your own. Right now I feel like I'm cleaving to... no one. Except the Lord, that is. And there are days when even that is questionable.
And maybe, just maybe, if nothing happens outside of God's will, then maybe I'm right where he wants me: sad and angry about so many different things... so aware of my need for him, ...depending on him not only for my emotional well-being but for my very survival in this world right now...
This summer I read a book called "The Talent Code" by Daniel Coyle, which, by the way, is a fantastic book. In it, Coyle talks about how human skill is cultivated... the brain mechanism by which it is derived, if you will. He discusses world-class expertise and how it is developed in human beings. In one part he mentions that many world-class experts, particularly the ones who are most famous (aka who became the best of the best... the ones you've heard of, whose names are household idioms) had a common motivational fire under their butt, driving them towards their success: the loss of a parent at a young age.
I do not claim to be a world-class expert or even someone who is on my way to becoming a world-class expert. I just claim to be a girl who's recently had the experience of understanding exactly what it feels like to all of a sudden feel like nobody's there to take care of you anymore... that you've gotta make it on your own somehow in this world. And maybe I need to just give that the weight it deserves... I think I keep dismissing it in my mind as something that's not important and something I need to just get over and move on from. But what I really need more than anything is to be healed from my past hurts... maybe sometimes in order to do that though, you have to recognize where you're at and work backward?
In one of my most recent counseling sessions, I spoke with Lynn about how I feel like I have no one to work through my problems with anymore, aside from her and occasionally Halley. And of course that's obviously the entire point of where I'm at: God isn't going to just let my faith disappear in the pleasures of what I think I want... not when he himself is enough. He gives us what we actually want and need when it is good for us. It's all of a sudden a deeper trust I'm learning... I have a God who has promised to be my counselor. And not just in a feel-good about myself, fit-my-specific problems and worldview kind of way, but in a "for reasons that you don't understand, beloved, I want you at the throne daily with not just your requests for providence and wisdom and deeper understanding of scripture, but bringing me your mourning and laments and hurts -- past, present, and future -- that scream out for healing now" kind of way.
The book of Romans assures me on multiple occasions that I'm united with Christ by his death and resurrection... He is the one I can cleave to wholeheartedly.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
grace
Good morning, Reader. Today is a day off. So much has happened recently... allow me to elaborate:
We have to move. Our landlord basically decided he wanted to live in our apartment to "manage the building better," which might be true but, after being fed this excuse for a few weeks, we later found out from our neighbor downstairs that he's had his eye on our specific apartment for a while and now that he's getting a divorce and our lease is expiring, the time has come for us to get the boot. Can I just say that we JUST moved in here?? We JUST GOT HERE! We JUST moved the piano in here! And now we have to move it all out again by the end of the month. So, so frustrating, particularly because the process of finding a new place and packing up has suddenly become THE thing that is sucking up all my time and money. Ugh, I try not to be too frustrated about the whole issue but you know, when you're the one directly affected by someone else's selfish decisions, it's hard not to be a little burned up inside.
We did find a place in Webster Groves... I know, right? We're moving from Tower Grove to Webster Groves. From Grove to Groves lol. And it hopefully will be for the best in the long run because our apartment here is already freezing and it's only November. Our bills this winter would be insane if we actually wanted to stay warm. Supposedly the apartment in Webster has really low utilities because it's a loft situated over a downstairs business, which will be great when there's six inches of snow outside and the Ameren bill comes. And moving to Webster will shave off about 10 mins of my commute out to Lutheran three days a week, which will be fantastic. So there are a lot of positives... it just sucks right now.
In the midst of all this, God is so good. I now have 10 students with another 2 potentials on the way and my Wednesday student is going to bump up to hour-lessons next month. Because when you start going over with your students on a regular basis, then they either need to bump up their time so you can be adequately compensated... or you just need to be firm about cutting things off when their time is up each week. I actually need to have this conversation with at least two of my other families who I've been going over with in lessons consistently now since the beginning of the semester. And I have Halley to thank for helping me be a brave and shrewd businesswoman: she's the one who told me to stop treating it like such a delicate situation, man up, and tell people what I want. Because if you act like it's a delicate situation, then people feel they have the right to walk all over you. But if you just own it and speak up and mean what you say, then even if your kids' parents say they want to keep the same lesson length, then at least you know you need to change something.
And the church I've been going to recently has been so good for my heart. It's been really difficult the last two months for me to be consistent on Sunday mornings, given that I still go see my counselor in Columbia once a month on a Sunday morning and am required to play for the Lutheran HS concert choir once a month at the different Lutheran churches around the St. Charles area. So that's two Sunday mornings a month gone. But the last month or so I've been going to what basically amounts to a church within a church at Central Presbyterian. They call themselves Trio and they meet on Sunday evenings in the basement of Central. The music is great (more of a relaxed jazz combo style of revamped Presbyterian hymns), they incorporate liturgical elements into the service, the teaching is fantastic, and I can wear jeans without feeling like I've violated some unwritten dress code. It is quite possibly one of the best and most wonderful things that has happened to me since coming to St. Louis. I feel like I've found a miniature version of the Crossing, which is huge because it was something I was really worried about when leaving Columbia (cue flashback thought to July: "What am I gonna do?? I'm never going to find a church remotely like this again...").
For instance, one thing I've really struggled with lately is anger... anger toward my parents over stuff in the past, as well as stuff in the present... anger with this guy that things didn't work out with recently... just a lot of anger in general (cue flashback conversation with Halley: "... at this point Hal, I'm just trying to figure out who I'm not angry with"). And one Sunday evening a couple of weeks ago I went to Trio struggling with all of this and of course, they were going to have communion at the end of the service and I sat there remembering a sermon I'd heard weeks before at a different church about taking the Lord's Supper in an unworthy manner... like if you have anger in your heart towards a fellow believer... or in my case, fellow believers. And then the pastor started talking about the Lord's Supper and how it's symbolic of Christ offering himself to us. And then I realized that this was the first time in my life I'd ever taken communion with the awareness that I would be taking it in what I felt to be an unworthy manner... but that somehow it was ok because that was the entire point of the cross in the first place: that we bring all our struggles to him... all of our anxieties (and in this case my anger) to him and groan something within to the effect of "I know that I'm struggling with this but I've heard that you, God, are a God who offers yourself and your presence to us anyway and so I'm going to choose to take you at your word." It's a powerful realization right before you're about to take communion. And although this sounds cliche, when you've been hit afresh with grace recently in a meaningful way, you realize again that what's even more beautiful is that he offers this to us daily, if we would only come to him and his word, being real with both ourselves and him... putting away all pretense and take from him what he freely gives, which is himself. What a savior.
We have to move. Our landlord basically decided he wanted to live in our apartment to "manage the building better," which might be true but, after being fed this excuse for a few weeks, we later found out from our neighbor downstairs that he's had his eye on our specific apartment for a while and now that he's getting a divorce and our lease is expiring, the time has come for us to get the boot. Can I just say that we JUST moved in here?? We JUST GOT HERE! We JUST moved the piano in here! And now we have to move it all out again by the end of the month. So, so frustrating, particularly because the process of finding a new place and packing up has suddenly become THE thing that is sucking up all my time and money. Ugh, I try not to be too frustrated about the whole issue but you know, when you're the one directly affected by someone else's selfish decisions, it's hard not to be a little burned up inside.
We did find a place in Webster Groves... I know, right? We're moving from Tower Grove to Webster Groves. From Grove to Groves lol. And it hopefully will be for the best in the long run because our apartment here is already freezing and it's only November. Our bills this winter would be insane if we actually wanted to stay warm. Supposedly the apartment in Webster has really low utilities because it's a loft situated over a downstairs business, which will be great when there's six inches of snow outside and the Ameren bill comes. And moving to Webster will shave off about 10 mins of my commute out to Lutheran three days a week, which will be fantastic. So there are a lot of positives... it just sucks right now.
In the midst of all this, God is so good. I now have 10 students with another 2 potentials on the way and my Wednesday student is going to bump up to hour-lessons next month. Because when you start going over with your students on a regular basis, then they either need to bump up their time so you can be adequately compensated... or you just need to be firm about cutting things off when their time is up each week. I actually need to have this conversation with at least two of my other families who I've been going over with in lessons consistently now since the beginning of the semester. And I have Halley to thank for helping me be a brave and shrewd businesswoman: she's the one who told me to stop treating it like such a delicate situation, man up, and tell people what I want. Because if you act like it's a delicate situation, then people feel they have the right to walk all over you. But if you just own it and speak up and mean what you say, then even if your kids' parents say they want to keep the same lesson length, then at least you know you need to change something.
And the church I've been going to recently has been so good for my heart. It's been really difficult the last two months for me to be consistent on Sunday mornings, given that I still go see my counselor in Columbia once a month on a Sunday morning and am required to play for the Lutheran HS concert choir once a month at the different Lutheran churches around the St. Charles area. So that's two Sunday mornings a month gone. But the last month or so I've been going to what basically amounts to a church within a church at Central Presbyterian. They call themselves Trio and they meet on Sunday evenings in the basement of Central. The music is great (more of a relaxed jazz combo style of revamped Presbyterian hymns), they incorporate liturgical elements into the service, the teaching is fantastic, and I can wear jeans without feeling like I've violated some unwritten dress code. It is quite possibly one of the best and most wonderful things that has happened to me since coming to St. Louis. I feel like I've found a miniature version of the Crossing, which is huge because it was something I was really worried about when leaving Columbia (cue flashback thought to July: "What am I gonna do?? I'm never going to find a church remotely like this again...").
For instance, one thing I've really struggled with lately is anger... anger toward my parents over stuff in the past, as well as stuff in the present... anger with this guy that things didn't work out with recently... just a lot of anger in general (cue flashback conversation with Halley: "... at this point Hal, I'm just trying to figure out who I'm not angry with"). And one Sunday evening a couple of weeks ago I went to Trio struggling with all of this and of course, they were going to have communion at the end of the service and I sat there remembering a sermon I'd heard weeks before at a different church about taking the Lord's Supper in an unworthy manner... like if you have anger in your heart towards a fellow believer... or in my case, fellow believers. And then the pastor started talking about the Lord's Supper and how it's symbolic of Christ offering himself to us. And then I realized that this was the first time in my life I'd ever taken communion with the awareness that I would be taking it in what I felt to be an unworthy manner... but that somehow it was ok because that was the entire point of the cross in the first place: that we bring all our struggles to him... all of our anxieties (and in this case my anger) to him and groan something within to the effect of "I know that I'm struggling with this but I've heard that you, God, are a God who offers yourself and your presence to us anyway and so I'm going to choose to take you at your word." It's a powerful realization right before you're about to take communion. And although this sounds cliche, when you've been hit afresh with grace recently in a meaningful way, you realize again that what's even more beautiful is that he offers this to us daily, if we would only come to him and his word, being real with both ourselves and him... putting away all pretense and take from him what he freely gives, which is himself. What a savior.
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