Writing My Own Story

I was having a conversation with a colleague the other day, and she commented that she considered me to be an optimistic and upbeat personality. I thanked her for her kind words, but inside other thoughts were churning. Was that really the case? Wasn’t the opposite more apparent in my life as of late? I certainly didn’t feel like I was a Pollyanna.

OK. So I do try to be positive and see the bright side of life, but lately, I’ve been struggling to do so. My silver lining was tainted. My glass was half full, but there was a serious crack along one side, and there was most definitely a leak. The show tunes normally running through my head were less amiable than usual.

I didn’t feel pessimistic. I didn’t feel depressed. I didn’t feel much of anything really. In fact, I wasn’t participating much in my own life. I was watching from the sidelines again or letting my understudy run the show. I don’t know how that happens, but sometimes, I seem to forget that my life is my own story. I’m not just reading a novel where I have no impact on the outcome. No, I’m a pivotal character here, and I need to step in and intervene, change the tone, and make some drastic revisions to my own character before I forget my course.

Now unfortunately, there isn’t time to do a complete edit and re-write the last couple of weeks. I’m left with those filler pages. I can’t erase them completely, but I also can’t wallow or beat myself up about them either. I need to jump back into my story, savor the highs and lows, seek out new characters without forcing clear definitions, actively interact and engage in the other stories around me, and allow GOD to create an even better story line than I could ever imagine.

Hmmmm? I wonder what will happen next? It's rather exciting. Too bad, I can't read ahead...

Following the Magic

I’m not an expert photographer. I’m not even a decent amateur. I’m just a girl who loves taking photos. Personally, I believe that any good shots I happen to capture occur merely because I was there at the right place, at the right time. (Or maybe it was because I took 15 photos to your one or two clicks of the shutter.) But no matter, it was just pure happenstance and running of the odds. Nothing more. I was ready, armed with my third eye and aimed at my target, and I got lucky.

For several years now, I’ve pondered pursuing photography more seriously. After all, I love it. It’s one of my favorite things to do. Wouldn’t it make sense to hone my craft and kick it up a notch? I’ve even considered taking a course or two, assisting with a real photographer on the side once again, or just reading and researching as much as I can on the subject. But something stops me – a part deep inside of me screams out “don’t do it.”

On the flip side, the perfectionist or over-achiever in me is pushing me to better my skills. Why do anything if you can’t do it right? If you have the chance to perform better with some training, why not take that next step to do so? Why settle for mediocrity (at best) rather than pursue brilliance?

I’m a passionate person. I rarely do anything half-heartedly. I’m a 110% girl. I’m consumed by my work, hobbies and activities. When I’m in, I’m all the way in, no-holds-barred. If I started pursuing photography like that, I’d be committed, dedicated and obsessed with it, even more than I am already as a novice.

And somehow, I fear that if I learned the “rules” or the “how-tos” of photography, the enchantment of this creative art would be replaced by someone else’s ideal. I’m afraid that I’d lose my love of the thing by over-pursuing another’s standard of it, and I don’t want to limit my scope based on someone else’s impression of what a good photo should be.

So call me crazy, but I think I’d rather continue to capture magic by mistake, for now.

DISCLAIMER: The author of the above article reserves the right to change her mind and reverse the decision made hereto at any time in the foreseeable future. She makes no apologies at the prospect of varying her opinions or disregarding her own solemn advice since she is subject to her own free will, the in-take of caffeine and the whims of an unfettered mind.

That's All She Wrote

I'm not a great writer, but I love to write regardless. And there are moments when I am overtaken, burdened by the need of self-expression so that my soul aches to have a say. Often I read back over what I once thought was amazing, and I laugh at the crap before me. Most of the good stuff comes in lapses of mediocrity where a glint of brilliance shines through. It's meager, buried beneath the rubble of a churning mind, but it's still mine.

I'll never be a great poet. I don't have a poet's tortured soul. Maybe I'll get there, but I'm not really praying for calamity, a broken heart or relentless grief just to fuel my creative melancholy.

I'll probably never be the novelist I once aspired to be either. I'm not short on imagination really. I'm constantly day dreaming about the what-ifs, but I feel that the magic dies when I attempt to capture the dreams on paper. It seems so much more vivid in my head that I'm disappointed with the results.

But no matter, write I must. I write because I want to even if it is just for an audience of one. More and more, I'm writing what I know or rather what I'm learning and discovering on my journey. It might not be of interest to anyone else really, but that is not why I write. I write because I have the need to capture the moment like a painter with a canvas or like a photographer with a snapshot. I want to collect a memory and bottle it, and so I preserve it in black and white, and I can revisit again and again, like catching up with an old friend...

What Do I Want to Be When I Grow Up

It's such a hard question. My answer for the last 18 years or so has been that I wanted to write, and I still do. I am. But what kind of writer do I want to be?

I always thought I wanted to be the next great female novelist. I was going to be the Jane Austen of my time. I was going to be published by 30 and change the world of literature as we knew it. It would be dramatic, fierce and compelling. I would challenge, make people weep and bring about a insurgent revival of character development in novels.

RIGHT! So that didn't quite pan out. I tried numerous times to get a novel started. I made it through 6 chapters on one attempt, but that was as far as I ever got on any of my novel attempts.

1. The perfectionist in me couldn't just leave my draft alone. I would strive for the perfect phrasing of every line. I was working and reworking each paragraph as I writing it, and I couldn't leave well enough alone. When I should have been just bursting to get the story down on the screen or page, I would get hung up on a particular line and just couldn't move on until it was perfected.

2. I didn't think writing about what I knew was very interesting, and so I kept trying to delve into the depths of my imagination. Well, that didn't work out all that well either. Something was missing. My heart wasn't in it, and I grew discouraged. I never stopped writing entirely, but I didn't share my thoughts with anyone.

Skip ahead a couple of years...here I am 34 years old, and I'm no closer to my earlier dream of becoming the next great American novelist. I don't know what the future holds for me, and yet somehow, I'm OK with the status quo, too. I'm writing. Some of which appears here on my blog. And while I may not be captivating you with my prose or changing the course of destiny with my gripping conviction, I am writing. Writing what I know (which isn't much), but it is my experience, my firsthand knowledge of the world I am encountering daily. I'm enjoying it and rediscovering my love of words. Thanks for joining me, my friend.

Seeing Hope

It is not the despair that hurts one, it is the hope.

I jotted this line down from the mini-series Cranford that was on on PBS Masterpiece this spring, and it has stayed with me.

Hope can be a dangerous thing. And yet a world without hope is empty, hollow, irredeemable...we need hope.

One of my favorite passages is Jeremiah 29:11-14a. It is a part of the letter Jeremiah sent to the remaining exiles in Babylon under Nebuchadnezzar. It is a letter of hope, and the words resound in my head tonight.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you..."

I am ever seeking hope, and I tend to rise too quickly on the wings of anticipation when I spot it just there in the distance. I get excited and all riled up when I really just need to take a back seat, breathe calmly, and see where GOD is leading.

Tonight was another reminder that I need to continually turn my eyes back to HIS, look to HIM constantly instead of getting confident in my path and sure that I am headed in the right direction. I tend to let go of HIS hand too quickly to show that I am a big girl and can handle it myself. HE gently waits, HE knows what is ahead, and sure enough, I come running back wanting to know why HE didn't keep me from danger. All part of that delicate balancing act between CREATOR and HIS creation, between MASTER and servant, between FATHER and daughter...I want to trust HIM, I need to trust HIM, and yet so often I fail to do so completely. Why do I linger in thinking I know best, that this one time I can see things more clearly than HE? HE has been right every time in the past, and HIS wisdom and guidance has yet to fail me. Why do I doubt HIM?

LORD, I believe, help my unbelief.
LORD, I hope, keep my hope in YOU.

Random Updates

For some reason, I am still wide awake after 3 AM. Not sure why, but I'm just going with it, and so I'm blogging...randomly.

1. No crickets sighted since the latest run-in on Saturday. WOOHOO!!

2. For those concerned about the possible haunted family heirloom now residing with me, I am pleased to report that there have been no incidents of suspicious activity surrounding the rocking chair.

3. My nephew Jacob had his first day of full-day kindergarten in Kokomo on Wednesday. He is my sister's oldest and a major source of amusement to his Aunt Mel. I just love the way he thinks. I can't wait to have him tell me all about his school days in between Wii games, of course. I need to challenge him to another skate-off. He got me hooked on this skateboarder game. I can't figure out all the tricks, but it's really wild. I love it.

4a. In 9 months, I should be in England. I'm quite excited at the prospect even though one of the attorneys I work with is still threatening to prevent my overseas travel by confiscating my passport, having me put on some list (he has a friend in National Security), or some other type of mayhem. He is still convinced that I am going to England to find a job. Maybe I should take my resume along. You never know... Just kidding, I think.

4b. Anyway, back to England, I am meeting up with Becky and Jessica this weekend to finalize more of our itinerary. It's fun planning things out, but I think it's time to start eliminating things to see. We're only going to be there for 12 or 13 days, and I think our list of 60 things is still a trifle ambitious...

5. I'm still enjoying the Olympics. I'm trying NOT to watch too much since it just gets me worked up and excited. Hmmmm...perhaps there is a direct correlation to my Olympics viewing back to my sleeplessness. It's one theory.

Happy Thursday, All!

Where Is That Girl?

I had an awesome lunch-time chat with my friend and co-worker Barb today. I was babbling on and on about how great it was to get caught up with old friends on Facebook, especially my friends from Camp Spearhead. We also discussed our jobs, my search for a church, new opportunities, etc.

Toward the end of the conversation, she smiled and said, “You know, Mel, I think, you need to find something to do that you are THAT passionate about.”

She was referring to how excited and passionate I am when I talk about Camp Spearhead. You see, I can’t help but grin or laugh when I am recounting the many familiar faces from camp. Barb’s comment got me thinking...where’s that girl and how do I get her back?

Where is the girl who used to jump up every Saturday morning and run to catch the bus for the Spearhead Extension? I could have had an exhausting week of classes and exams, but it didn’t matter. If there was a weekend extension planned, I was there. I miss that diligence, focus and purpose.

Where is the girl who used to ride every hayride and sing loudly along on every camp song chorus? I miss the enthusiasm with which I tackled things. I miss the girl who didn't care who was watching or listening...she had no problem being silly if the occasion called for it!

Where is the girl who made it a point to know each and every campers name? I miss that never-met-a-stranger ideal. I would introduce myself to all those new to me and try to come up with ways to remember their names all week. I know how important it is to have someone remember your name, especially when you are new or in a strange place.

Where is the girl who used to take photos non-stop and made a real effort to capture all the memories? I miss that energy. I would run around snapping pictures with Michael Brooks following me the whole time yelling, “Come back here, Mel. You don’t need to take no more pictures!”

Where is that passion, that fire that I had back then? Few things excite me now like they did back then.

I don’t think it’s just age or maturity that has robbed me of these things I am missing. I think somewhere along the way, I let go of joy! [GASP!] I stopped delighting in the little things, in the moments that make up the day-to-day adventure we call life. I suddenly needed more to get excited about. It wasn’t enough to be amused by a mere detail or a funny encounter.

I grew up, and I thought that part of that process was moving on to bigger and better things to bring me happiness. I couldn’t just be content with the status quo any more. Like a kid that feels gypped at getting socks and underwear for Christmas, I wanted the big list items. After all, others were getting them--why couldn’t I? I wanted the diamond ring and the man on my arm to go with the sparkle. I wanted the 2.5 kids, the fluffy black dog, and the house with a view. I wanted the corporate job with the good pay and potential for growth.

I thought that was what I needed. I thought that those things were what I was missing from my life. And when I didn’t get all of those things, I would just get more and more determined to make it happen, and I’d get more and more miserable at the current state of affairs. It's not wrong to pursue another course or to follow your dreams, but when you seek them with the idea that those things -- those bigger and better gift items -- are all you need to attain happiness, you are bound to be dissatisfied.

Turns out that those things weren't a need or a must-have, and to go after them, I had chucked something far more precious in the wake. I'd set aside joy. I forgot to revel in the bliss and delights of being alive. I forgot how to enjoy the hayride, so to speak, how to let my hair down and be free and just savor the moment...like I did back then.

Now, I’m sure Barb has no idea that her comment to me would strike such a chord and cause me to ponder life as it has to this extreme, but here I am. And today I’m reclaiming THAT girl. She's still here. She never really went far. She just hid away for a while. She's a bit weather-beaten and shell-shocked, but she she's got joy in hand...

And I'm not letting go this time.

Time Has a Way of Getting Away From Us

I’ve been taking apart some old photo albums recently. It’s time to dismantle the magnetic albums, get the pictures scanned, and then put the photos into a REAL PVC-free scrapbook for safe-keeping. I’ve been meaning to do this for a while now, but after reconnecting with several of my cohorts from Camp Spearhead, I decided to do it now rather than later. I thought the gang would enjoy the trip down memory lane, too, and I hope they really do.

Just looking back at old photos makes me giggle.

What was I thinking with that short haircut? It was an awful look even in my sorted and amusing arsenal of bad hairstyles.

Why did I wear white socks with that outfit? So tacky!

And where did I get those colossal Elton John glasses? They practically cover my whole face!

Then comes the sighing, reminiscing and trying to remember the names to put with those faces in the photographs.

Whatever happened to Clay, Mary, Tamra, Ben, BJ, Andy, Mike, Grant, Frankie, Rebecca, Chriss, Matt G., Matt L., Brandi, Deb, Tricia, Corey, Lanae, Darnell, Janelle and Moldy?

Is Emma and the fam still in Savannah? I need to call her.

Where is Shawn Vile? I remember getting a wedding invitation from him a few years back, but I haven’t heard from him since.

I remember taking that photo. We were trying to see how many people we could get into that phone book at Carowinds. Hilarious!

HA! This was the time BJ followed through on his threat to Bobbie Jo. He told her that if she didn’t leave he and Jamie alone, he was going to--- NAH! You just have to see the picture to understand.

What was this guy’s name again and wasn’t he dating another counselor that summer? Yeah! They were into pythons, I think.

Then comes a short wave of sadness.

I should have kept in touch with people more. [sigh!] I didn’t completely drop off the radar or anything, but I didn’t stay connected with too many of these familiar faces either. Time has a way of making us let go, and I think it’s healthy really. Most people come in and out of our lives for a season or two, and if we stayed as connected to each and every one of them, we’d never get anything else done! So the distance settles in for a while, we meet new friends and time passes…and then one day, we get reconnected on facebook, and the cycle starts up again.

Yes, I do miss those hot, sunny days at Camp Spearhead. I miss waking up and finding a camper standing over me in the middle of the night, I miss the laughter and daily camp routine, but most of all, I miss the people (both the campers and counselors alike) that I was privileged to know and spend time with. Those were good times, but my life now isn’t bad either.

What Did We Do Before Facebook?

I can't remember. I love catching up with people and reconnecting with old friends and family members. I'm out on myspace, too, but I just don't like it as well. I like the way that facebook lets you glance at a person's life and interact as much as you want. I can comment on what they are up to or just observe, but at least I'm out there again...talking to people, making connections, finding out more about other peoples' lives and struggles rather than focusing only on my self.

"No man is an island, entire of itself..." John Donne wrote. By disconnecting from the community, I am affecting the whole. Not that I am so important, but each one of us is significant. Each of us has a role to play, an act to fulfill.

OK, this has gotten far too analytical and serious, and I'm not thinking straight due to the migraine meds. Suffice it to say, I'm blessed to have the connections, the acquaintances, the people in my life that I do. Thank you.

The Desire to Please YOU

"MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."
- Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude

This prayer always moves me. I love that phrase: “But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.” It is such an honest reflection of the beauty of the Christian walk. We don’t always know that we are on the right path, that we have made the right decision, but if we are seeking after HIM, HE is pleased with our attempts, misguided though they may be.

GOD and I have had lots of heart-to-heart conversations in the car lately. I can’t explain it, but somehow isolated in my Honda Civic, I have some of the best GOD and I times. I usually end up crying or laughing or doing some of both, but I enjoy that time of candid worship, praise, adoration, conversation and appeals to my GOD and SAVIOR.

Sometimes I’m ranting on and on about like a broken record player on a familiar topic: LORD, I have the desire for marriage, and I believe that you gave this desire to me. I need to know what to do with it while it remains unfulfilled. Sometimes, I think it would be easier to join a convent, LORD. OK, so the Catholicism thing might be a challenge, but away from the distractions of men, I would be able to devote more time to our relationship. What do you think?

Sometimes I’m laughing at myself: LORD, please forgive me for being petty, but did you have to bring that spider into my apartment? I mean if you know when a hair falls off my head, you know about that 8-legged vermin hiding out in my closet. You could have prevented this from happening. Can’t we work this out please?

Sometimes I’m struggling with knowing where to begin: LORD, I’m stuck. I don’t know where to start. Do you know how many churches are in Indianapolis? Sorry, of course, you do! I just need some guidance and help with eliminating the possibilities. Can you help nudge me in the right direction? PLEASE?

Whatever the topic or discussion, I always seem to come away feeling more at peace like I just shared my heart with the ONE who knows it best already, and that in the sharing and the quiet listening that follows, I have had sweet communion with my CREATOR, my FATHER, my ALL.

I Feel Inspired Today

I just want to go skipping and running around the office this afternoon for some odd reason. I don’t know why really. Where did this surge of inspiration come from anyway? I barely was able to crawl out of bed this morning at 6 AM, but now I’m wide awake and have show tunes running through my head. Seriously, I’m ready to burst into song with the Sound of Music or I Loved You Once in Silence and a few minutes ago, I caught myself before I sang out loud with Meadowlark. I can’t compete with the likes of Julie Andrews or Sarah Brightman, by any stretch of the imagination, but I sure feel like trying today. Watch out American Idol, here I come. HA! OK, truth is that if you know me well, you know my days of church solos are over. AHEM! How did I ever do that anyway? Hey, Sis, do you remember when I did an angel solo in the Christmas program like 3 years in a row? YIKES! Where is that confidence now?

Anyway, maybe I’ll still have some creative inspiration left after my work day, so that I can sit down and write for a while or work on some photo project. We’ll see...the legal realm has a way of draining a person if they aren’t careful. But if I keep the show tunes going on in my head, who knows what I will be able to accomplish!

I must have lit my seventh cigarette at half past two, and at the time I never even noticed I was blue...it’s funny, but I had no sense of living without aim the day before you came. OOPS! The artist, better known as moi, just switched venues, and now I'm singing Abba in my head. But I love this song. [sigh!] It’s good stuff. I’ll leave you to ponder the lyrics now...Happy weekend!

I must have left my house at eight
because I always do
my train, I’m certain
left the station just when it was due
I must have read the morning paper
going into town
and having gotten through the editorial
no doubt I must have frowned
I must have made my desk
around a quarter after nine
with letters to be read
and heaps of papers waiting to be signed
I must have gone to lunch
at half past twelve or so
the usual place, the usual bunch
and still on top of this
I’m pretty sure it must have rained
the day before you came

I must have lit my seventh
cigarette at half past two
and at the time I never
even noticed I was blue
I must have kept on dragging
through the business of the day
without really knowing anything
I hid a part of me away
at five I must have left
there’s no exception to the rule
a matter of routine
I’ve done it ever since I finished school
the train back home again
undoubtedly I must have
read the evening paper then
oh yes, I’m sure my life was
well within its usual frame
the day before you came

I must have opened my front door
at eight o’clock or so
and stopped along the way
to buy some Chinese food to go
I’m sure I had my dinner
watching something on TV
there’s not, I think, a single
episode of Dallas that I didn’t see
I must have gone to bed
around a quarter after ten
I need a lot of sleep and so
I like to be in bed by then
I must have read a while
the latest one by Marilyn French
or something in that style
it’s funny, but I had no sense
of living without aim
the day before you came

And turning out the light
I must have yawned and
cuddled up for yet another night
and rattling on the roof
I must have heard the sound of rain
the day before you came

I Miss Film

You know those small black cylinder rolls you used in your camera a few years back. Well, I miss those. I especially miss the anxious waiting around for the film to come back.

Will that shot turn out?
Will there be red-eyes in the photo?
Did I have something in my teeth?
Did the flash go off?
Did I capture the baby’s smile?

Gone are those worries these days. Today, you just point, shoot, click and instantly preview it to see if you need to take another. You can even zoom in on your shot and determine if someone blinked (that would be Becky). Yes, I like that. It’s nice and easy and saves the hassle and wondering if it was a good shot or not.

However, I still miss film. Back in the day (3+ years ago), I would get all excited about getting a roll of film developed. I’d flip open the packages in the store and quickly scan through them. I’d laugh at a wacky shot or grimace at another bad shot. I kind of miss that eager anticipation, that 24 hour delay or 1-hour photo period where I had to wait and see. It was something to look forward to.

Strangely enough, I also miss the smell of a fresh roll of film. Is that weird?

Come on, if you are a camera person, you know what I mean...that was some good stuff.

UPDATE on eharmony

I got back from my walk with Becky tonight and decided on a whim to just check my gmail account and see what was going on with eharmony. I had 13 matches, and I got a message saying that I was at my match limit. HA! Now that makes me laugh for some reason -- don't know why really, but it does. I had all these emails cluttering up my pristine inbox. So sad!

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Well, it's official, I just closed my eharmony account. They really try to talk you into staying on by reminding you that statistically 1 in 4 marriages are unhappy ones, but that with their compatibility profiles, you have a better chance. Hmmmmm...not sure what to say about that, but I'm off now. I lasted a total of 30 hours. WOOHOO!! And I wouldn't say that it was a bad experience really. I just think I knew rather quickly that it wasn't something I was comfortable with. I don't know that I gave it a fair chance or really feel the need to critique it either. I just think that sometimes you have to follow your gut instinct or your Mom's advice, and when those two things agree, you know what you need to do.

For all of you singles out there who are loving connecting up with fellow singletons on eharmony, more power to you. Call me old-fashioned, call me chicken...it's just personally not for me.

Online Dating? Hmmmm...

On a whim yesterday, I went to eharmony.com. I started the online profile, which was free. I confess, that in the past I have mocked this site and others like it, and so I guess I just wanted to see what the hype was all about. I mean should I be so judgmental about it if I’ve never tried it? So, I completed the basics in about 15 minutes, and within seconds, I got matched up with 6 men in the area.

WOA!! So, I calmly started freaking out. Wait a minute...can you calmly get freaked out? I mean if compatibility is really this easy then what is my problem? Shouldn’t I be married with 2.5 kids already? So, I did what I was planning to do anyway. It was Mother’s Day, and so I called my Mom and decided to bring it up randomly in the conversation. OK, so maybe it wasn't quite so random, but I made an attempt. I already knew what she would say, but sometimes you need that affirmation anyway, and I got it.

I don’t think eharmony or other sites like this are for me. OK, so if I am still single at 40, ask me again, and I'll re-evaluate where I am. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t want a computer program to match me up with another human being based on my answers to some questions--questions that I was told to answer truthfully, but honestly, how objective could I be? If I wanted someone objective to complete my profile, I should have hired my sister to complete it on my behalf. She always tells it like it is, and that is why I value her friendship so very much!

Communication is key for me. I already know this about myself. I’m a sucker for a man that communicates deeply. A man that shares his intimate thoughts with me, his hopes, his dreams, his failures--that’s all it takes. This has happened a few times in the past. I meet someone, he is candid and shares his deepest secrets with me, I mistake it for a meaningful depth, and before I know it, I’m interested in getting to know him better, but in reality there isn’t that mutual connection. It turns out that he is “Mr. I-bare-my-soul-to-just-about-everyone,” and that I totally misunderstood his candor. See, I don’t share my heart with just anyone, and so it’s no wonder that I get confused. I’m transparent with a couple of friends and a few family members, but I’m very selective who I share my whole self with. Maybe that is a flaw I need to address, but I don't think GOD made all of us the same in that regard. I'm more reserved and apt to just listen to the thoughts of others rather than share my heart with someone I just met.

So imagine me with a medium that is all about communication, where someone can be anything they want to be. I think it could be disastrous, and my Mom, who knows me better than most, agreed. She didn’t put it in so many words. Her response was more that I should leave it in GOD’s hands, and while some would counter that response with the old “God helps those, who help themselves” motif, I would have to say that I agree with Mom on this one.

See, I know me, and I know my motives. Fact is that I keep giving my desires for marriage over to GOD, but then I get tired of waiting (after like 5 minutes), and so I jump back in and try to “help.” So again, this is me needing to let go of this area and give it back to GOD, and I need to do this daily, hourly if need be. Not just commit it once and walk away expecting results instantly. I'm human, and this area of trusting GOD with my future is something I really struggle with, and so I need to daily lay this struggle at my LORD's feet.

A roommate in college shared this poem with me. I don't know the author, and most sites list it as "author unkown," but it describes the impatient nature of my heart.

As children bring their broken toys,
With tears for us to mend;
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because he was my friend.

But then instead of leaving him in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help, with ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried
"How could you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "What could I do?
You never did let go..."

Still Messy

I can't sleep tonight, and so blog, I must. I'm re-reading Michael Yaconelli's book Messy Spirituality: God's Annoying Love for Imperfect People this week for the first time in probably 4 years, and I'm struck anew with the fresh perspective in this inspiring little volume.

We talk our way out of the spiritual life by refusing to come to God as we are. Instead, we decide to wait until we are ready to come to God as we aren't. We decide that the way we lived yesterday, last week or last year makes us “damaged goods” and that until we start living “right,” we're not “God material.” Some of us actually believe that until we choose the correct way to live, we aren't chooseable, that until we clean up the mess, Jesus won't have anything to do with us. The opposite is true. Until we admit we are a mess, Jesus won't have anything to do with us. [Michael Yaconelli]

I confess that this completely flies in the face of what I grew up with. But as I read the Scriptures, I see more signs of what Yaconelli was talking about.

Luke 5:31-32 Jesus answered them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."

I'm to come as I am to CHRIST. HE meets me where I am now. HE doesn't tell me to come back later when I've got everything together. HE just says come. I am to confess my sins and accept the free gift that HIS SON offers me, the gift of HIMSELF and HIS atoning work on the cross. And after taking that initiating step, I enter into that incredible, miraculous relationship with my CREATOR.

And I believe it's that relationship that brings about the real changes in my life. The relationship that guides and directs me. As it deepens, I become more in tune with what HE wants of me. I can hear HIM, and I start to see things in a whole new light, as well. Suddenly I see sin in my life that I didn't even know was there before. The HOLY SPIRIT convicts me of these hidden sins, and I start to see just how broken, how messed up my life really is. And it is there in my sinful condition, in my devastating brokenness, that my SAVIOR meets me and continues that wondrous work of transformation that HE began more than 20 years ago, and that only HE can finish.

Hebrews 12:2 "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter [or finisher] of our faith..."

Spiritual people also admit their unfinishedness. Unfinished means incomplete, imperfect, in process, in progress, under construction... The construction site of our souls exposes our flaws, the rough-hewn, not-finished faith clearly visible in our hearts. When we seek God, Jesus begins to take shape in our lives. He begins a good work in us, he starts changing us, but the finishing process is a more-than-lifetime process. The work of God in our lives will never be finished until we meet Jesus face to face.[Michael Yaconelli]

Philippians 1:6 “...being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

Part 2: Above All, Trust in the Slow Work of God

A friend of mine quoted Monsieur Pierre Teilhard de Chardin on the phone about a year ago, and I hastily wrote the quote down on a post-it for further contemplation. Well, the other day, I found the post-it again and have been struck by that first line again and again this week: “Above all, trust in the slow work of God..."

My former pastor, Rich Vincent, used to talk often about the frenetic pace of life that we so easily get caught up into. Yes, even with spiritual things, we get into that same frantic frame of mind--thinking that if we don't instantly see the changes in our lives that we are not truly reformed, not truly redeemed or forgiven. But spirituality isn't something you attain. You don't arrive one day and get your certificate of achievement, not in this life. The spiritual life is a journey, all part of the slow work of God.

In his book, “Messy Spirituality,” the late Michael Yaconelli wrote:

“Spirituality is not a formula; it is not a test. It is a relationship. Spirituality is not about competency; it is about intimacy. Spirituality is not about perfection; it is about connection. The way of the spiritual life begins where we are now in the mess of our lives. Accepting the reality of our broken, flawed lives is the beginning of spirituality not because the spiritual life will remove our flaws but because we let go of seeking perfection and, instead, seek God, the one who is present in the tangledness of our lives. Spirituality is not about being fixed; it is about God's being present in the mess of our unfixedness.”

I get so frustrated with the cluttered mesh of my life. I'm task-oriented, project driven. I'm wanting to attain my goals and reach the mark I am striving for. I get impatient by the crawling pace I'm encountering on my daily walk. I'm wanting to skip ahead a few chapters, get to the good stuff. Not realizing that if I impatiently hurry on, I'll lose sight of the REALLY good stuff -- the relationship, the intimate bonding between FATHER and child.

"Above All, Trust in the Slow Work of God..."

Above All, Trust in the Slow Work of God

by Monsieur Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way
to something unknown,
something new.
Yet it is the law of all progress that is made
by passing through some stages of instability
and that may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually. Let them grow.
Let them shape themselves without undue haste.
Do not try to force them on
as though you could be today what time
-- that is to say, grace --
and circumstances
acting on your own good will
will make you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new Spirit
gradually forming in you will be.

Give our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.
Above all, trust in the slow work of God,
our loving vine-dresser.

Accidental Brilliance

I'm noting a trend both this week and last week, and I feel it best to just be open about it and not keep it to myself before it goes any further. So here goes...

Three times now in the last week and a half, my co-workers have hollered for me or walked over and asked me if I could come and take a look at their computer issues. Hey, Mel, can you take a look at this please? OR Melanie, what do I do when this happens? I think it's stuck. So on these 3 occasions with my 3 different co-workers, I have gone into their offices and fixed the problem [i.e. I pressed a couple of buttons or restarted the machine, and everything seemed to work fine after that].

So now, they think I'm something of a genius or an IT wizard. Hey, how did you do that? OR WOW!You're good. STOP LAUGHING! This is serious. I can't let this continue.

Those of you that know me well, know the truth. My Mom and Dad might think I'm something of a technological expert because I reset the clock on their DVD player every time I visit, but that's just because that blinking light drives me crazy. My 5-year-old nephew Jacob knows that Auntie Mel is no gadget wizard. He has tried several times to teach me how to make the cow jump on the cow racing game on Wii, but I just can't seem to get it. Poor kid--he gets so frustrated with me. I've mastered tennis, bowling and most of the other games, but I just can't get the cow racing thing down. Truth be told, in the real tech-savvy world, I'm a complete novice. I might have mastered the remote control, but that's about it. I will confess however that I am a magnet for challenging computer issues--that part is true. I find them, but I can't fix them myself. I just bring them to my IT pal's attention and ask them to diagnose and fix the problem. Pretty please?

So if there was any brilliance in this case, it was accidental. I know that Arif, Aric, Jason, or Joe would 100% agree with that statement. And my brother-in-law (i.e. the coding genius) will totally laugh at the possibility of me being a computer genius.

So I've got to nip this rumor in the bud once and for all... Let me clarify. If you have computer issues, please get help elsewhere. I'd love to help you, I really would, but you are much better off WITHOUT my assistance. Trust me! It's better with electronic gadgets that I just step back and let a person skilled in the art (as we say in the patent world) do his/her stuff! However, if you need someone to check for grammatical errors, to assist with legal patent documents, to take some photos, or to suggest tips on how to kill crickets that are invading your space, I'm your girl.

Such Beauty

Today after my volunteer shift, I went for a walk on the IMA grounds, camera in tow. It was a lovely afternoon, and the temperature was perfect for a leisurely stroll through the gardens.

Most people know that I tend to gravitate towards people with cameras. If I see a couple or a husband and wife taking turns taking photos of each other or shots with the kids, I'll go over to them and ask if I can take a shot of all of them together. Well, being the lovely day that it was, I had lots of opportunity to jump in and take photos for people. It makes me happy for some reason.

As I started to cross the bridge, I delayed crossing it completely to stay out of the pictures that this guy was taking of this woman he was with. Finally, they stopped and were setting up another pose, and so I crossed over. He said, "Hello. How ya doing?" I said that I was fine, and then I asked if they wanted me to take a photo of them together.

He laughed and said, "Well, that would be a bit awkward. See, I'm taking her senior photos here."

"Oh. Got it." I said a bit embarrassed as I walked away.

"But thanks for offering," he said.

I got around the corner and into the garden, and I just burst out laughing. OOPS!! I am such a goober sometimes.

I walked through the rest of the gardens and enjoying snapping shots. The gardens were full of color today...pinks, oranges, yellows, reds, and purples dominated the scene. Truly glorious handiwork of our CREATOR! I think HE delights in the delicate beauty of HIS marvelous workmanship--a beauty that never ceases to be less miraculous to me each and every season! Thank you, LORD!

Then later this evening, Becky called and asked if I would like to go for a walk, and so we went back to the IMA, walked through the gardens and a couple of miles out on the trails along the canal there. It felt so good to just get out and walk. Got to do more of that.

To Love is to be Vulnerable

I think we all crave connection. It drives us, pushes us to look outside ourselves for that something else. I don't think we're meant to be solitary creatures at all. We need each other.

For years now, I've had this quote by C. S. Lewis hanging up in my cubicle at work...

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."

Re-reading this quote today reminded me of where I've been and who I've become over the last couple of years. Since I'm wide awake now, I'm realizing just how selfish I have become. Sure I connected with a few friends regularly, but I wasn't reaching out at all like before. I was tucking myself away in safety with my movies, my books, my own thoughts. I was obsessed with my hobbies and burying myself away in my quiet little apartment. But I don't think we're meant to be our own best friend. To have your self as your own one true companion is unwise, unhealthy and pathetic.

This line from the movie An Ideal Husband always made me sad: "To love one's self is the beginning of a lifelong romance." That's no good. I don't want to live like that...