I went to visit my Gran last night. She died just over a year ago and I went to visit her grave to make sure she had flowers that weren’t too faded by the summer sun. I sat next to her for about 20 minutes and dusted the grass clippings off her tombstone. You know how in movies, people are always talking to gravestones? Well, in reality, it’s a very difficult thing to make yourself do. One can’t help felling stupid for speaking into thin air. Perhaps, I feel this way because I do believe in an afterlife and I don’t suspect that my Gran is there to hear me. I suppose you can’t pray to the dead, but I do tell her things without speaking them—which seems crazy. I “told” her to make sure that someone with her knows how much I loved them.
I also find I can’t help but apologize for not being a better grandchild. I was one of the last people in my family to see her before she died. I bumped into her at a grocery store. She had red plastic roses in her cart, the kind with fake water droplets on them. She was always collecting things like that. She asked me to help her find iced-tea in a can, but I wasn’t sure what she meant. I pointed her in the right direction, but I didn’t go for her. If I could change anything about the past, I would change that fact. I would have loaded them up for her and even carried them into her room. When we found her in her bed (she died in her sleep) she had open can of it on her nightstand. She must have found it. I also found those red roses. I took them and still have them.
Sorry this is such a sad post, but I am a bit sad and perhaps even a bit scared. Do you ever think about all the endless possibilities of happenings in your life and feel overwhelmed or even frightened? I miss my Gran today, and I missed her yesterday. She was funny and mean and never held her tongue, but she loved me and loved her.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
"I Don't Care"
Are three words in the English language more infused with total apathy? There are none, except, of course… the words “total apathy.” So, what don’t I care about? This is going to sound horrible, but just cut me a bit of slack here. I don’t care about my Church woes anymore. The funny thing about total apathy is that eventually it forces you to move on because, I suppose, we like progress and vision. Blah blah blah. When your leaders are apathetic towards positive forward movement, it’s that much easier to find yourself in that condition also. Then again, perhaps “I don’t care” indicates that I’m simply giving up. Either way, this is where I am right now on this particular issue.
I grew up in a Nazarene Church around here. It has always been a bit of a “country” Church is some respects, largely due to the fact that for most of its existence, it has indeed been in the country. In the past few years, however, that area of town has started to boom both commercially and residentially. What that has meant for my smallish country Church is that we/they are now in a new/unfamiliar position to grow like mad. Unfortunately for us/them, churchgoers these days don’t care for one hour sermons, songs about raising one’s Ebenezer or lights on-full blast so you’re total display even during very personal, prayerful moments. Churchgoers also tend to go for programs that can speak to their needs more specifically. On that note, I tend to go for that kind of thing too. This is why we are now preparing to move on.
We have attended faithfully for about three years. I know I said I grew up there, but that also means this lovely church has a history in my life… good and bad. When I was about sixteen, my best friend and I decided to return on a Wednesday night after a brief hiatus. What we walked into changed my view of the church forever. Unfortunately we had chosen to come on a night when half the church was literally screaming at our pastor for intending to fire the youth minister. The reasons are sketchy as we had not been going for a while and barely knew this youth pastor. Whatever it was, it was profoundly disturbing for me, and I assume, my best friend. I refused to continue going to that church from that point on. I bounced around several other churches until I’d been married for about a year or so. Jason and I visited “my parent’s church” (my old church) and found we rather liked it. I remember us thinking that it had so much potential (as they had just built a new church building) and we really wanted to be a part of that growth. From that point on, we (especially Jason) poured ourselves into that place. He taught Sunday School, played in the orchestra, and until recently lead the music! I taught little children, taught music every year at V.B.S. and often counseled the college age kids when they felt totally alienated from this church. This past year, I started getting resentful. I’m not sure if it has something to do with where I work (also Church related) or not, but suddenly I’m tired of waiting for that “vision” to kick in. A month ago, Jason had his, “I don’t care” moment when he was told that the leadership has no interest in the music program right now… his passion and major involvement. It was the straw that broke the preverbal camel’s back.
With our minds about 80% made up, does that make us quitters? I hope not. We are growing increasingly interested in a very large, much closer church in the same denomination. We are ready and willing to throw ourselves into the work of the Church, because it has meant so much to us in the past. Their pastor is very blunt about having a crazy vision for his Church—so now we are excited again. Let’s just hope this time; other people feel like committing themselves as much we do.
I grew up in a Nazarene Church around here. It has always been a bit of a “country” Church is some respects, largely due to the fact that for most of its existence, it has indeed been in the country. In the past few years, however, that area of town has started to boom both commercially and residentially. What that has meant for my smallish country Church is that we/they are now in a new/unfamiliar position to grow like mad. Unfortunately for us/them, churchgoers these days don’t care for one hour sermons, songs about raising one’s Ebenezer or lights on-full blast so you’re total display even during very personal, prayerful moments. Churchgoers also tend to go for programs that can speak to their needs more specifically. On that note, I tend to go for that kind of thing too. This is why we are now preparing to move on.
We have attended faithfully for about three years. I know I said I grew up there, but that also means this lovely church has a history in my life… good and bad. When I was about sixteen, my best friend and I decided to return on a Wednesday night after a brief hiatus. What we walked into changed my view of the church forever. Unfortunately we had chosen to come on a night when half the church was literally screaming at our pastor for intending to fire the youth minister. The reasons are sketchy as we had not been going for a while and barely knew this youth pastor. Whatever it was, it was profoundly disturbing for me, and I assume, my best friend. I refused to continue going to that church from that point on. I bounced around several other churches until I’d been married for about a year or so. Jason and I visited “my parent’s church” (my old church) and found we rather liked it. I remember us thinking that it had so much potential (as they had just built a new church building) and we really wanted to be a part of that growth. From that point on, we (especially Jason) poured ourselves into that place. He taught Sunday School, played in the orchestra, and until recently lead the music! I taught little children, taught music every year at V.B.S. and often counseled the college age kids when they felt totally alienated from this church. This past year, I started getting resentful. I’m not sure if it has something to do with where I work (also Church related) or not, but suddenly I’m tired of waiting for that “vision” to kick in. A month ago, Jason had his, “I don’t care” moment when he was told that the leadership has no interest in the music program right now… his passion and major involvement. It was the straw that broke the preverbal camel’s back.
With our minds about 80% made up, does that make us quitters? I hope not. We are growing increasingly interested in a very large, much closer church in the same denomination. We are ready and willing to throw ourselves into the work of the Church, because it has meant so much to us in the past. Their pastor is very blunt about having a crazy vision for his Church—so now we are excited again. Let’s just hope this time; other people feel like committing themselves as much we do.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Media Fast day #2
As expected, I did almost nothing I had planned to do yesterday to assist my fasting efforts. I’m notorious for that kind of thing. With only a few hours left of my fast, I find that significant although subtle changes have taken place.
I didn’t go to church after all. I went home and immediately fell asleep (incidentally, this is often how I handle a food fast too). Unfortunately, I slept until 8:00pm! Must have been tired. When I woke up, Jason was starving and ready to go to dinner. We went to a fish place and had a nice time. He thought it would be a healthy idea to finish dinner with an ice-cream sundae, so we did that as well. When we got home, he (being totally addicted at this point) finished his sundae in front of the TV and Xbox. He played as the University of Texas in a devastating game against O.U. I believe the final score was about 115 to 0, Texas. I didn’t participate, but sat next to him anyway, and (you guessed it) soon feel asleep again.
Apparently, I missed several phone calls before I finally got up and got ready for bed. The problem now was, I couldn’t stay asleep for very long—waking up a grand total of four times. Actually, I officially woke up at 5:45am but still felt like I had slept in until around 10am! What a lovely feeling. Since it was so early, and I couldn’t watch TV, turn on the radio or launch myself back into the sixth installment of the Harry Potter series I happen to be in the middle of, I decided to go back to bed. But suddenly, my thoughts were plagued with concern, worry and fear. Nice instincts, Naomi. What was happening to me? Does this happen every morning? Do I just distract myself to the point were I stop noticing how negative my thoughts are? Without anything to escape into, I started praying. I prayed for an hour! It was like talking to someone I hadn’t spent much time with in several months. I’ve never prayed so thoroughly, or so specifically in all my life (I don’t think). Being totally unable to handle the weight of my concerns so early in the morning, the first thing I did was surrender my thoughts to God. I know that sounds churchy, and it is, but while I still realize there is a slight uneasiness, I feel a heightened level of peace over that.
It feels oddly silent without any media distraction. I can’t decide if it feels more like living in the past or like I’m locked in a padded cell. Ambient noises are so much louder than I ever realized. Do you know how loud an air conditioner is, or that every part of your body makes noise when it moves?! Sounds like, keyboard keys being typed on or knuckles cracking become strangely satisfying too. Weird.
I’m going on vacation next week and all of a sudden, I’m excited about it. I suppose that I’ve been so distracted that I hadn’t given it much thought—I haven’t even planned on what sights I want to see! My point is that, I think the way we tend to live our lives (or the way I live mine), so immersed in media, is a recipe for constant distraction or escapism if you prefer. I’m not trying to sound like some puritanical theorist here, I love escaping my life when I feel the need. I just realize, however, that perhaps we can only distract ourselves—perhaps true escape is impossible. What I did this morning was surrender, rather than escape. I’m not sure how a non-Christian would choose to handle their morning—I’d be very interested to know. Why did I instinctively turn to God? Was he happy to hear from me or was he annoyed at my selfishness? I don’t know the answers to all that. All I know is that, without all the distraction I clearly partake in everyday, I spent more time with my husband (even if I just watched him cream O.U. in a video game), I became more rested, and most significantly, I instinctively threw myself into God’s arms.
I recommend you try doing this for just 24 hours and see what happens.
I didn’t go to church after all. I went home and immediately fell asleep (incidentally, this is often how I handle a food fast too). Unfortunately, I slept until 8:00pm! Must have been tired. When I woke up, Jason was starving and ready to go to dinner. We went to a fish place and had a nice time. He thought it would be a healthy idea to finish dinner with an ice-cream sundae, so we did that as well. When we got home, he (being totally addicted at this point) finished his sundae in front of the TV and Xbox. He played as the University of Texas in a devastating game against O.U. I believe the final score was about 115 to 0, Texas. I didn’t participate, but sat next to him anyway, and (you guessed it) soon feel asleep again.
Apparently, I missed several phone calls before I finally got up and got ready for bed. The problem now was, I couldn’t stay asleep for very long—waking up a grand total of four times. Actually, I officially woke up at 5:45am but still felt like I had slept in until around 10am! What a lovely feeling. Since it was so early, and I couldn’t watch TV, turn on the radio or launch myself back into the sixth installment of the Harry Potter series I happen to be in the middle of, I decided to go back to bed. But suddenly, my thoughts were plagued with concern, worry and fear. Nice instincts, Naomi. What was happening to me? Does this happen every morning? Do I just distract myself to the point were I stop noticing how negative my thoughts are? Without anything to escape into, I started praying. I prayed for an hour! It was like talking to someone I hadn’t spent much time with in several months. I’ve never prayed so thoroughly, or so specifically in all my life (I don’t think). Being totally unable to handle the weight of my concerns so early in the morning, the first thing I did was surrender my thoughts to God. I know that sounds churchy, and it is, but while I still realize there is a slight uneasiness, I feel a heightened level of peace over that.
It feels oddly silent without any media distraction. I can’t decide if it feels more like living in the past or like I’m locked in a padded cell. Ambient noises are so much louder than I ever realized. Do you know how loud an air conditioner is, or that every part of your body makes noise when it moves?! Sounds like, keyboard keys being typed on or knuckles cracking become strangely satisfying too. Weird.
I’m going on vacation next week and all of a sudden, I’m excited about it. I suppose that I’ve been so distracted that I hadn’t given it much thought—I haven’t even planned on what sights I want to see! My point is that, I think the way we tend to live our lives (or the way I live mine), so immersed in media, is a recipe for constant distraction or escapism if you prefer. I’m not trying to sound like some puritanical theorist here, I love escaping my life when I feel the need. I just realize, however, that perhaps we can only distract ourselves—perhaps true escape is impossible. What I did this morning was surrender, rather than escape. I’m not sure how a non-Christian would choose to handle their morning—I’d be very interested to know. Why did I instinctively turn to God? Was he happy to hear from me or was he annoyed at my selfishness? I don’t know the answers to all that. All I know is that, without all the distraction I clearly partake in everyday, I spent more time with my husband (even if I just watched him cream O.U. in a video game), I became more rested, and most significantly, I instinctively threw myself into God’s arms.
I recommend you try doing this for just 24 hours and see what happens.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Media Fast
Today I am on a media fast. The reasons are not what I’m going to focus on here. Rather, I am cataloging this short, but surprisingly extreme experience and my thoughts as I attempt to cut out what has recently been revealed to be a major part of my life. This is a one day fast, as I’m not sure how long a fast I could actually handle.
The rules exclude the following; all television, movies, CDs and all other music*, games of any kind, books*, internet* and magazines.
Allowable media includes; email, telephone, Bible and devotional texts, some Christian music (just so I don’t loose my mind), internet use for work (as necessary) and for posting this.
*Bible, Biblical texts, some Christian music, internet for perfunctory uses only
The purpose of this fast isn’t stupidly religious, don’t worry. I just thought I’d exploit this time to foster a love for the things of God.
----------------------------
I began at 12:00pm. This morning, I listened to my satellite radio on my way to work. When I got here, I listened to my Ipod (Remy Zero) as I browsed a favorite website forum to see what was new. I posted several times before my fast began at noon. I find that the temptation to see if my posts have any new responses is close to unbearable.
As five o’clock nears, I realize that my greatest temptation is yet to come. When I arrive home, I will be greeted by my two dogs, and a brand new 37” television that has recently been hooked up with digital cable. That large screen and its 260 channels will be calling out to me like a siren’s song. The plan to resist is as follows; I will take my medication (which often makes me sleepy) and lie down with my Bible or a devotional book. It’s more like an Amish fast. I will read until I fall asleep, if I fall asleep. A short nap will follow. I hope to either make a nice dinner or go out to eat to help distract me from the Xbox in the back room or my computer in the office (also newly equipped with cable internet). After dinner I plan to attend church—a rarity for me on a Wednesday night. I decided a trip to my regular church in Mustang was more punishment than fast, so I’ve opted to attend another Nazarene Church closer to home, Bethany First Church. I enjoy the times that I’ve been there and I find the preaching to actually be informative and inspiring. I feel like I’ll leave there further inspired and ready to continue with my fast until tomorrow at noon.
When I get home after church, I have no idea what to do. I suppose I’ll be forced to get into the Word and pray for a while (longer than I tend to). I’ve been a Christian almost all my life and have gone to Church as long as I can remember, but I don’t think of myself as being especially religiously zealous. So, for me, this unavoidable emersion is actually going to be quite difficult at first. I could be wrong so we’ll see.
Lastly, I plan to take a long shower and go to bed a bit early. When I wake up I’ll have to head to work and I’ll be distracted there until after my fast ends.
I’ll let you know how all this goes tomorrow.
The rules exclude the following; all television, movies, CDs and all other music*, games of any kind, books*, internet* and magazines.
Allowable media includes; email, telephone, Bible and devotional texts, some Christian music (just so I don’t loose my mind), internet use for work (as necessary) and for posting this.
*Bible, Biblical texts, some Christian music, internet for perfunctory uses only
The purpose of this fast isn’t stupidly religious, don’t worry. I just thought I’d exploit this time to foster a love for the things of God.
----------------------------
I began at 12:00pm. This morning, I listened to my satellite radio on my way to work. When I got here, I listened to my Ipod (Remy Zero) as I browsed a favorite website forum to see what was new. I posted several times before my fast began at noon. I find that the temptation to see if my posts have any new responses is close to unbearable.
As five o’clock nears, I realize that my greatest temptation is yet to come. When I arrive home, I will be greeted by my two dogs, and a brand new 37” television that has recently been hooked up with digital cable. That large screen and its 260 channels will be calling out to me like a siren’s song. The plan to resist is as follows; I will take my medication (which often makes me sleepy) and lie down with my Bible or a devotional book. It’s more like an Amish fast. I will read until I fall asleep, if I fall asleep. A short nap will follow. I hope to either make a nice dinner or go out to eat to help distract me from the Xbox in the back room or my computer in the office (also newly equipped with cable internet). After dinner I plan to attend church—a rarity for me on a Wednesday night. I decided a trip to my regular church in Mustang was more punishment than fast, so I’ve opted to attend another Nazarene Church closer to home, Bethany First Church. I enjoy the times that I’ve been there and I find the preaching to actually be informative and inspiring. I feel like I’ll leave there further inspired and ready to continue with my fast until tomorrow at noon.
When I get home after church, I have no idea what to do. I suppose I’ll be forced to get into the Word and pray for a while (longer than I tend to). I’ve been a Christian almost all my life and have gone to Church as long as I can remember, but I don’t think of myself as being especially religiously zealous. So, for me, this unavoidable emersion is actually going to be quite difficult at first. I could be wrong so we’ll see.
Lastly, I plan to take a long shower and go to bed a bit early. When I wake up I’ll have to head to work and I’ll be distracted there until after my fast ends.
I’ll let you know how all this goes tomorrow.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Anger, Bitterness, and Optimism
You can tell already that this is going to be a sunny type of post, can’t you? If you read this blog with any regularity you’ll realize that I often have moments where I get “all serious.” This is probably going to be one of them. If you’re not in the mood, I’d skip this post. No sense in delaying any longer, I suppose…
Today, my sister’s former roommate, a woman named Monica called to pray for me. I am currently going through something and, once again, I am gripped by fear, grief and anger. Nothing final has been said to confirm my pervasive sense of hopelessness, but I seem to be resigned to preparing myself for the worst at all times. So today, a reason to fear has surfaced. If I were a positive type of person I would realize that from the surface, things aren’t that bad and I have every reason to believe things will turn out well. Being me, I am launched into my past—a particularly painful experience in my past—and I assume that a similar fate awaits me.
I guess the question I’m essentially dealing with here is what makes me the kind of person who reaches back into pain for a way to deal with the present and not the kind of person who looks ahead and sees hope in all situations. My best friend is one of the most positive people I know. She is always seeing ways for things to go well or inevitably work themselves out. She has a gift of optimism coupled with intelligence. In my particular case, I feel I can not be optimistic and realistic. Most people turn away from ugly things, and avoid empathy because, quite frankly, it takes time and it hurts to feel what others feel. I’m not that different myself, I often change the channel when NPR talks about the newly fallen Marines in Iraq—yes, I’m an ass. Who isn’t? But, I think when it comes to self-indulgent pity, I excel. The need to look towards the sun never occurs to me as I march dutifully into the mire.
So Monica called me. She had about ten other women with her there to pray for me also—this is her ministry; she’s like a Prayer SEAL. On a conference call with several women maybe a thousand miles from me, I began to feel exorcised. They knew all my bull before I could speak it. In her words, “God revealed your anger to us, he showed us how deeply you grieve and the confusion you feel about His ways.” I was dumbstruck. How could they know what I so desperately try to hide? Now, an hour later, I’m still scared and I don’t know what that means.
I have to face this fear today and I don’t know what to do. Do I envision the best and imagine the wondrous lightening of my heart, or do I brace myself for yet another blow?
Today, my sister’s former roommate, a woman named Monica called to pray for me. I am currently going through something and, once again, I am gripped by fear, grief and anger. Nothing final has been said to confirm my pervasive sense of hopelessness, but I seem to be resigned to preparing myself for the worst at all times. So today, a reason to fear has surfaced. If I were a positive type of person I would realize that from the surface, things aren’t that bad and I have every reason to believe things will turn out well. Being me, I am launched into my past—a particularly painful experience in my past—and I assume that a similar fate awaits me.
I guess the question I’m essentially dealing with here is what makes me the kind of person who reaches back into pain for a way to deal with the present and not the kind of person who looks ahead and sees hope in all situations. My best friend is one of the most positive people I know. She is always seeing ways for things to go well or inevitably work themselves out. She has a gift of optimism coupled with intelligence. In my particular case, I feel I can not be optimistic and realistic. Most people turn away from ugly things, and avoid empathy because, quite frankly, it takes time and it hurts to feel what others feel. I’m not that different myself, I often change the channel when NPR talks about the newly fallen Marines in Iraq—yes, I’m an ass. Who isn’t? But, I think when it comes to self-indulgent pity, I excel. The need to look towards the sun never occurs to me as I march dutifully into the mire.
So Monica called me. She had about ten other women with her there to pray for me also—this is her ministry; she’s like a Prayer SEAL. On a conference call with several women maybe a thousand miles from me, I began to feel exorcised. They knew all my bull before I could speak it. In her words, “God revealed your anger to us, he showed us how deeply you grieve and the confusion you feel about His ways.” I was dumbstruck. How could they know what I so desperately try to hide? Now, an hour later, I’m still scared and I don’t know what that means.
I have to face this fear today and I don’t know what to do. Do I envision the best and imagine the wondrous lightening of my heart, or do I brace myself for yet another blow?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)