Though I am a growing fan of habits, routines, and rituals, I have not been much of a practitioner most of my life. Friends marvel when I tell them that I do not have the same morning or bedtime routine every day. I have a general way of doing things, but the time can fluctuate by as much as 15-minutes, my teeth brushing may happen before or after the shower, and speaking of the shower, sometimes I shower at night and sometimes in the morning.
But that's not even the best example of what I'm talking about. When I drive somewhere, I often try to find a different route home. When I clean, I go in circles, picking up some laundry in the bedroom, remembering to take the trash out before the laundry is dropped off, wiping down the bathroom sinks which I thought of as I was gathering the trash, etc. By the time I've made 7-8 circles around the house, it's usually clean.
As I grow older and observe more people, however, I am realizing that most of the people I want to be like have a general pattern to their lives. And that general pattern provides the stability and predictably I want so desperately to characterize my life. I want to be a "known" quantity to those around me, not a loose cannon, not a fly by night.
I'm reading Ruth Haley Barton's Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation about establishing a "rule of life" (as the church fathers and mothers called it). Basically, this book is about ordering our lives in such a way to allow God the most room to move and breathe in us. It's about establishing spiritual disciplines, but it's about more than that.
As I see it, the peace I am seeking is about much more than when I brush my teeth or when I read my Bible. It's about creating a predictable order so that each part of my life fits with the others - all the priorities God has given me working together in harmony.
Here's an example: I recognized two things over the weekend that I need to spend more DAILY time on. Keeping up with the dishes, laundry and housework. And prayer. So last night, as I decided to do one dish drainer of dishes, even if that didn't get the whole job done, I also realized that washing dishes by hand leaves a lot of time for thinking, planning and praying. The same is true about folding laundry and raking leaves. A part of my rule of life may include spending 15 minutes a day sitting quietly and praying and another 15 minutes a day praying while I clean. A wholistic approach to a spiritually disciplined life.
How do you order your day? What disciplines do you integrate into your life to give Jesus space to move.
October 30, 2006
October 24, 2006
Control
I'm reading Joan Didion's memoir, The Year of Magical Thinking, and she had an interesting passage on the great illusion of control we often have, especially those of us who have "success" at controlling many things in our lives.
Didion's husband, John Dunne, has died very unexpectedly, and her daughter, Quintana, has just taken a turn for the worse after a mysterious, debilitating disease.
"One thing I noticed during the course of those weeks at UCLA was that many people I knew shared a habit of mind usually credited to the very successful. They believed absolutely in their own management skills. They believed absolutely in the power of the telephone numbers they had at their fingertips, the right doctor, the major donor, the person who could facilitate a favor at State or Justice. The management skills of these people were in fact prodigious. The power of their telephone numbers was in fact unmatched. I had myself for most of my life shared the same core belief in my ability to control events."
And then, "Yet I had always at some level apprehended, because I was born fearful, that some events in life would remain beyond my ability to control or manage them. Some events would jsut happen. This was one of those events. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends."
I can relate to this sentiment so well, and yet, I don't know if my apprehension of the truth results from fear. In my case, I think it's more a product of my faith. And in that case, I often find comfort in my lack of control. Though news or events may take me by surprise, Jesus knew all along, and holds my life firmly in his hand.
Didion's husband, John Dunne, has died very unexpectedly, and her daughter, Quintana, has just taken a turn for the worse after a mysterious, debilitating disease.
"One thing I noticed during the course of those weeks at UCLA was that many people I knew shared a habit of mind usually credited to the very successful. They believed absolutely in their own management skills. They believed absolutely in the power of the telephone numbers they had at their fingertips, the right doctor, the major donor, the person who could facilitate a favor at State or Justice. The management skills of these people were in fact prodigious. The power of their telephone numbers was in fact unmatched. I had myself for most of my life shared the same core belief in my ability to control events."
And then, "Yet I had always at some level apprehended, because I was born fearful, that some events in life would remain beyond my ability to control or manage them. Some events would jsut happen. This was one of those events. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends."
I can relate to this sentiment so well, and yet, I don't know if my apprehension of the truth results from fear. In my case, I think it's more a product of my faith. And in that case, I often find comfort in my lack of control. Though news or events may take me by surprise, Jesus knew all along, and holds my life firmly in his hand.
October 23, 2006
58 degrees
Though I didn't want to turn the furnace on until November, the 30 degree nights and 40 degree days have caused me to cave in. However, as a compromise, I'm keeping the thermostat set firmly at 58 degrees (aka "the battle against cold air"). And though even now my fingers feel slightly numb and my dog has to keep moving to stay warm, it's actually not that bad. At least I can't see condensation in the air from my breath.
Here are a few things I've realized by keeping the thermostat on the down-low:
1.) My winter clothing is getting more use. Granted, I have to wear several sweaters at once, but at least they're not going to waste in my closet. (During my last move, my friend Kay was unpacking my rather large sweater collection, commenting that I absolutely MUST get rid of any I hadn't worn in more than a year. Now, all my sweaters are safe!)
2.) I finally understand what all the fuss is about slippers. (I'm even wearing mine with socks now, which I could never do in a house that is 68 degrees.)
3.) I feel very "green" and environmentally conscious (plus also, I've officially earned the title "cheapskate").
4.) I have the admiration of other penny pinchers. My very efficient and energy-saving friend Jamey looked at me in awe Sunday when he heard I kept my furnace at 58 degrees around the clock. "I thought turning my furnace down to 60 degrees at night was pushing it," he said.
5.) It makes me want to save energy in other ways (I've been washing clothes on cold -- or warm at most, and I'm considering getting a drying rack instead of using the dryer).
6.) My parents don't seem so "weird" anymore for always following me around and turning off light switches and keeping the thermostat on a balmy 68 degrees.
7.) When I accidentally left some food out of the refrigerator while I was at work, it didn't go bad. The house is only slightly warmer than the refrigerator, anyway.
8.) I've learned all kinds of tricks about keeping cold air out and warm air in. I felt like a pioneer as I was taping plastic to my windows and cutting styrofoam for the crawl space openings. (I know pioneers didn't have plastic and styrofoam, but the pioneer thought honestly popped into my head as I was winterizing.)
9.) I'm going to appreciate Spring and Summer a lot more.
10.) On the days the temperature creeps up to 55 and the sun starts shining, my furnace doesn't kick on at all!
Stay warm!
Here are a few things I've realized by keeping the thermostat on the down-low:
1.) My winter clothing is getting more use. Granted, I have to wear several sweaters at once, but at least they're not going to waste in my closet. (During my last move, my friend Kay was unpacking my rather large sweater collection, commenting that I absolutely MUST get rid of any I hadn't worn in more than a year. Now, all my sweaters are safe!)
2.) I finally understand what all the fuss is about slippers. (I'm even wearing mine with socks now, which I could never do in a house that is 68 degrees.)
3.) I feel very "green" and environmentally conscious (plus also, I've officially earned the title "cheapskate").
4.) I have the admiration of other penny pinchers. My very efficient and energy-saving friend Jamey looked at me in awe Sunday when he heard I kept my furnace at 58 degrees around the clock. "I thought turning my furnace down to 60 degrees at night was pushing it," he said.
5.) It makes me want to save energy in other ways (I've been washing clothes on cold -- or warm at most, and I'm considering getting a drying rack instead of using the dryer).
6.) My parents don't seem so "weird" anymore for always following me around and turning off light switches and keeping the thermostat on a balmy 68 degrees.
7.) When I accidentally left some food out of the refrigerator while I was at work, it didn't go bad. The house is only slightly warmer than the refrigerator, anyway.
8.) I've learned all kinds of tricks about keeping cold air out and warm air in. I felt like a pioneer as I was taping plastic to my windows and cutting styrofoam for the crawl space openings. (I know pioneers didn't have plastic and styrofoam, but the pioneer thought honestly popped into my head as I was winterizing.)
9.) I'm going to appreciate Spring and Summer a lot more.
10.) On the days the temperature creeps up to 55 and the sun starts shining, my furnace doesn't kick on at all!
Stay warm!
October 20, 2006
War Rhetoric
For the past few weeks, I've been telling people I'm in an all-out war against cold air (which, of course, goes back to my fear that this winter's heating bill is going to do me in). Last week, when my dog was having trouble getting rid of the blanket she ate and vomited on my carpet two or three times a day, every time I was cleaning up, phrases like "taking it to the enemy" and "attacking it at the source" kept coming to mind. And as it would happen, yesterday, more war imagery emerged as I "battled against grime" and "stayed the course," deep cleaning my "new," second stove top (Granted, when I feel overwhelmed, I've wanted to "cut and run," but where would that leave me?)
As a normally passive person, I've been surprised by all these hawkish thoughts. Do I feel like this house it my enemy? Is there pent up aggression seeking to escape from my soul? Do I listen to too much tv and radio, with all those sound bites? Or am I becoming too used to being part of a nation at war?
The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are certainly highly charged topics in our country, and I don't want to engage in so much political mumbo-jumbo. I also don't want to be naive enough to think that our nation can be so deep into war that my very vocabulary changes and not affect many other areas of my life.
So while I'm fighting grime, what other bellicosities have I taken on? Who or what else am I now thinking of in terms of "enemy," "battle," "aggression," or "hostility."
John 16:31 "Jesus answered them, 'Do you finally believe? In fact, you're about to make a run for it—saving your own skins and abandoning me. But I'm not abandoned. The Father is with me. I've told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I've conquered the world.'"
As a normally passive person, I've been surprised by all these hawkish thoughts. Do I feel like this house it my enemy? Is there pent up aggression seeking to escape from my soul? Do I listen to too much tv and radio, with all those sound bites? Or am I becoming too used to being part of a nation at war?
The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are certainly highly charged topics in our country, and I don't want to engage in so much political mumbo-jumbo. I also don't want to be naive enough to think that our nation can be so deep into war that my very vocabulary changes and not affect many other areas of my life.
So while I'm fighting grime, what other bellicosities have I taken on? Who or what else am I now thinking of in terms of "enemy," "battle," "aggression," or "hostility."
John 16:31 "Jesus answered them, 'Do you finally believe? In fact, you're about to make a run for it—saving your own skins and abandoning me. But I'm not abandoned. The Father is with me. I've told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I've conquered the world.'"
October 18, 2006
Broken Things
Most of the people who have visited me in my new house could probably list all of its imperfections. Not because they are picky or critical, but because I have made a point to show them each one as we tour. Here's a broken closet door; the old doorbell in the hallway isn't even connected to the front door; there's a hole in the tile; the cabinet doors don't shut.
Why do I always feel the need to reveal my broken things?
What we do with the broken things in our lives probably says something about who we are. I tend to do one of a few things when I find a stain or a crack. Get rid of the item (probably my first inclination), try to make it like new, turn it into something it's not, or keep on using it as it was intended, even if it is a little worn down.
Why do I always feel the need to reveal my broken things?
What we do with the broken things in our lives probably says something about who we are. I tend to do one of a few things when I find a stain or a crack. Get rid of the item (probably my first inclination), try to make it like new, turn it into something it's not, or keep on using it as it was intended, even if it is a little worn down.
--
This is exactly what happened with another broken thing in my house. For some unknown reason, I have two stove tops both of which came with the house. One is on top of the oven where it should be (a stand-alone oven/range), and one, stained, dirty and missing all its knobs, is built into the island countertop (actually, it's more of a peninsula, but I'm not sure they make that geographical distinction in cabinetry).
My first inclination was to get rid of the old countertop one. Who needs two? Plus it's gross. And I could sure use the counter space. But it was a bigger job to get rid of than I could do on my own, so I decided to clean it up a little in the meantime until my dad could help me. Once it was clean, it seemed like it would work just fine as a countertop itself, so I set a candle on it, and a bowl full of winter squash and I find my mixing bowls and measuring cups gravitating there while I bake.
But Saturday, as I tried really hard to ignore this broken thing by cleaning it all up and using it as it was never intended, I realized that even though it's not in mint condition, it actually could still be used as a stove. True, I don't need two stoves, and I would never choose two. But I have two, and both work.
Two stoves could be a burden -- finding someone to disconnect the old one, taking it to the dump, buying a new (and expensive) custom-cut counter top, and having it installed where the old stove top was.
But with a little love, two stoves might be a blessing. What if I decide to cook a gigantic meal for friends sometime?
I think this is why I reveal my broken things to others -- not just about the house, but about my spirit, and my attitude. I want to see what other people do with the broken things, and people, in their lives. Are they going to throw me out (like I am so quick to do)? Try to fix me or make me be someone I'm not? Or are they going to love me and let me do what I was made to do. Even if it's not perfect.
My first inclination was to get rid of the old countertop one. Who needs two? Plus it's gross. And I could sure use the counter space. But it was a bigger job to get rid of than I could do on my own, so I decided to clean it up a little in the meantime until my dad could help me. Once it was clean, it seemed like it would work just fine as a countertop itself, so I set a candle on it, and a bowl full of winter squash and I find my mixing bowls and measuring cups gravitating there while I bake.
But Saturday, as I tried really hard to ignore this broken thing by cleaning it all up and using it as it was never intended, I realized that even though it's not in mint condition, it actually could still be used as a stove. True, I don't need two stoves, and I would never choose two. But I have two, and both work.
Two stoves could be a burden -- finding someone to disconnect the old one, taking it to the dump, buying a new (and expensive) custom-cut counter top, and having it installed where the old stove top was.
But with a little love, two stoves might be a blessing. What if I decide to cook a gigantic meal for friends sometime?
--
I think this is why I reveal my broken things to others -- not just about the house, but about my spirit, and my attitude. I want to see what other people do with the broken things, and people, in their lives. Are they going to throw me out (like I am so quick to do)? Try to fix me or make me be someone I'm not? Or are they going to love me and let me do what I was made to do. Even if it's not perfect.
--
I recently got a stain on a perfectly good shirt and against my very natural instinct to throw it in the yard sale box, I washed it, hung it back up in the closet, and will continue to wear it.
I want other people to know they are safe with me.
I want other people to know they are safe with me.
October 17, 2006
Stewardship vs. Consumerism
I've been thinking a lot lately about my insatiable desire for stuff. And not just any old stuff: I want new stuff.
The other day, when I was scrubbing away at the rusty brass light fixture just outside my front door, I realized that the opposite of buying new stuff was taking care of my old stuff.
There's a lot of discussion in some of the blog circles I frequent about changing the patterns of consumerism in our lives, and the concepts have intrigued me. But I know that I won't be able to just stop doing something bad -- like stop buying so much stuff -- without also start doing something good -- like start taking better care of the stuff I have.
So far it's just a theory, but I think the opposite of consumerism is "stewardship." (Now there's a word loaded for bear.)
Any thoughts?
The other day, when I was scrubbing away at the rusty brass light fixture just outside my front door, I realized that the opposite of buying new stuff was taking care of my old stuff.
There's a lot of discussion in some of the blog circles I frequent about changing the patterns of consumerism in our lives, and the concepts have intrigued me. But I know that I won't be able to just stop doing something bad -- like stop buying so much stuff -- without also start doing something good -- like start taking better care of the stuff I have.
So far it's just a theory, but I think the opposite of consumerism is "stewardship." (Now there's a word loaded for bear.)
Any thoughts?
October 16, 2006
Unafraid
For the past couple of weeks, I have been struggling with fear.
Granted, most of them have to do with this new house: fear of a cold winter and enormous heating bills, fear that I really can't take care of a house on my own, fear that someone is going to break in at night, etc.
But I've also had other fears: that I'm not using my time well, that my dog is going to die because she consumed a small part of her blanket one night, that I'm going to become irrelevant at work, that my writing is a hoax. And I've tried to cope with these irrational fears by rationalizing them (which really can become comical).
I've had discussions with my boss at work about whether someone is more likely to invade my home during a rain storm or a clear night, I fed my dog boiled potatoes for a day to settle her stomach (like that's going to help her pass a blanket), and I've begun writing in my head again. When I write in my head, it's alway very eloquent and publishable. Unlike the more painful experience of writing on paper or on a screen.
These tactics have only served to feed the fear. Because here's what the fear is really all about: I want control of everything, and at the same time, I don't know how to control everything. I am an unqualified egomaniac.
The good news: I am a redeemed unqualified egomaniac. What squelches the fear is reminding myself of the truth. God watches over me when I sleep, He cares for my needs, He orders my steps, and He loves me in spite of myself.
Perfect love drives out fear.
Granted, most of them have to do with this new house: fear of a cold winter and enormous heating bills, fear that I really can't take care of a house on my own, fear that someone is going to break in at night, etc.
But I've also had other fears: that I'm not using my time well, that my dog is going to die because she consumed a small part of her blanket one night, that I'm going to become irrelevant at work, that my writing is a hoax. And I've tried to cope with these irrational fears by rationalizing them (which really can become comical).
I've had discussions with my boss at work about whether someone is more likely to invade my home during a rain storm or a clear night, I fed my dog boiled potatoes for a day to settle her stomach (like that's going to help her pass a blanket), and I've begun writing in my head again. When I write in my head, it's alway very eloquent and publishable. Unlike the more painful experience of writing on paper or on a screen.
These tactics have only served to feed the fear. Because here's what the fear is really all about: I want control of everything, and at the same time, I don't know how to control everything. I am an unqualified egomaniac.
The good news: I am a redeemed unqualified egomaniac. What squelches the fear is reminding myself of the truth. God watches over me when I sleep, He cares for my needs, He orders my steps, and He loves me in spite of myself.
Perfect love drives out fear.
October 14, 2006
Smells of Home
Today, my new house felt like home for the first time.
I had been growing more comfortable with this place throughout the week -- my little treasures are all finding a place, I'm sleeping a little better, and minor issues, like a leaky pipe behind the washer, don't make me cry (like last week).
But today, after sleeping in, laying in bed and reading for a while, and staying in my pajamas until noon, something changed. A friend was coming over for lunch, and as I made preparations for her arrival, the house became transformed. This time when I cleaned, it was my dirt I was wiping away, not some former owners'. When I started cooking, everything was right where I expected it. And when the smells started filling the house -- lentil soup from a recipe I now have memorized, homemade wheat and honey bread, cranberry scones -- these smells were familiar smells. The ones that have meant home to me for the last several years. Now, these smells were filling a house I own.
But the real moment this house felt like home was when my friends arrived and we enjoyed this place together. They both commented on the smells when they walked in, and as we set down to share a meal, the few boxes left to unpack, the windows still needing to be covered with plastic, and the drywall that's waiting to be repaired really didn't cross my mind for a few hours.
Finally, I am home.
I had been growing more comfortable with this place throughout the week -- my little treasures are all finding a place, I'm sleeping a little better, and minor issues, like a leaky pipe behind the washer, don't make me cry (like last week).
But today, after sleeping in, laying in bed and reading for a while, and staying in my pajamas until noon, something changed. A friend was coming over for lunch, and as I made preparations for her arrival, the house became transformed. This time when I cleaned, it was my dirt I was wiping away, not some former owners'. When I started cooking, everything was right where I expected it. And when the smells started filling the house -- lentil soup from a recipe I now have memorized, homemade wheat and honey bread, cranberry scones -- these smells were familiar smells. The ones that have meant home to me for the last several years. Now, these smells were filling a house I own.
But the real moment this house felt like home was when my friends arrived and we enjoyed this place together. They both commented on the smells when they walked in, and as we set down to share a meal, the few boxes left to unpack, the windows still needing to be covered with plastic, and the drywall that's waiting to be repaired really didn't cross my mind for a few hours.
Finally, I am home.
October 1, 2006
In
Nothing profound to say -- just wanted to let everyone know that I'm officially "in" the house. Last night was the first night we stayed -- we being me, my dog Precious, and my mom (my first overnight guest).
My dog barked occasionally throughout the first hours of the night as she got used to the new noises and tried to protect my mom and I both. Precious continued to be uneasy until she figured out she could sleep in the hallway and keep an eye on both rooms at once. I feel safe with her on the job!
My dog barked occasionally throughout the first hours of the night as she got used to the new noises and tried to protect my mom and I both. Precious continued to be uneasy until she figured out she could sleep in the hallway and keep an eye on both rooms at once. I feel safe with her on the job!
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