Happy Halloween!

 
 

As the Laundry Dries . . .

Right now I am in Kim's apartment, drying my laundry. Phoenix had another accident during her nap this afternoon which necessitated an emergency laundering operation. Just another one of the ways she tells us she knows who's running the show.
Last night was the first meeting of our book discussion group. Cindy, Kim and I met at Kim's apartment and discussed the first half of the book Chocolat by Joanne Harris. I was glad I hadn't seen the movie until I read the book. The book is fantastic! I highly recommend it. The movie version has the town mayor as one of the main characters, Reynaud. In the book, Reynaud is a priest, so you can imagine the show-downs between him and Vianne Rocher. Plus it adds a spiritual element that brings a ton of depth and controversy to the story. We had a lot of fun discussing the fasts and feasts of the springtime religious rituals, a.k.a. Shrove Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, Lent, and Easter. Which in turn brought up discussions of asceticism, temptation, judgment and compassion.
Oh yeah, we also ate panang chicken, and consumed copious amounts of chocolate delights. Kim introduced me to the fabulous french liqueur Grand Marnier, which was a pleasure to say the least. We are going to read another Joanne Harris book called Five Segments of the Orange, and then we will enjoy orange-flavored delicacies.
Kim and I went to Borders last night and checked out some books on Altered Books. I've been wanting to start altering books, but never got around to it in the last year and then Kim wanted to do it too, so I think we will proceed to alter some books. I even have the book ready. I found it at the Sylvia Center shelter over a year go. It's a collection of Francis Bacon's essays. Good fun!
Tonight at church Daniel was teaching on Matthew 2, all about Herod being outwitted by the Magi, and he was saying somewthing about the little Herod in all of us and I was nodding off to sleep and had a vision of a large foam cut-out of Herod. That's enough to snap you awake. Maybe this having church in the evening isn't working for me.

I Have So Much Things To Say Right Now . . .

I don't even know where to begin. I have 25 minutes left before I have to go home and make dinner for my family. I'm at a library, not able to use one of my fingers due to a dish washing accident yesterday morning, so my typing is somewhat impaired.
Here's what is on my mind: God.
I have been so unfaithful and far away for so long and he insists on loving me and blessing me anyway. And I am trying to receive it all gracefully and gratefully. But I am so ashamed of myself for what C. S. Lewis wrote about in A Grief Observed. I will paraphrase: "It is not that I am in danger of ceasing to believe in God, it is that I will believe terrible things about Him." And I am guilty of that. Namely, I am guilty of believing that He does not love me as much as he says, and that in fact, he prefers most people over me, even when I am having a good day.
The truth is that I have just started seriously praying again in the last month. It is also true that I have just started reading the Bible seriously again in the last month. I used to balk at the advice people would give me about reading and praying, about how it could change you. I really do believe it again. Not just because my circumstances have changed, but because there is deep change in me happening.
I am actually confessing sin, sharing struggles, and praying with other women again. I am going to church regularly and actually enjoying it, looking forward to it. I am involved in a few Bible studies and enjoying them too. I am investing in new friendships in a new city and new church and being amazed every time I turn around that he would give me such amazing people to be a part of my life. I am so undeserving. But I am so thankful.
One strange answer to prayer. Since the miscarriage nearly three years ago, I hardly ever dream. I mean RARELY. I used to have the most vivid, bizarre dreams. Due to the grief I was experiencing, I stopped dreaming. It was like my intuitive subconscious just shut down. Not only was I mostly numb when I was awake, but I was mostly numb when I was asleep too.
Last month, when the Lord started a major work on my heart and I did a ton of confessing and repenting and praying, I asked the Lord to restore my dreams. And he did. In an incredible way. I dream almost every night, sometimes more than once, and I can mostly remember what I was dreaming about. Something in me was healed and released, in a really deep place, and the transformation is just beginning.

What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been . . .

We've been in Louisville for a little over two months now, and it has not disappointed. Besides being much closer to my dearest friend in the world, Mindiana, we are enjoying the beautiful landscape of tree-lined streets and winding roads. We also are loving our new church, Sojourn, and have been happily making friends with some lovely people. I hope to begin writing more, once I get some sort of motivation. Since I don't have constant access to the internet, it doesn't feel the same typing a post on my computer at home, burning it to a disc and then going to the library to upload it onto my page. Without the instant gratification of seeing my words instantly online right in front of my face, I get lazy and apathetic. But I am haunted by the compulsion to write. I write posts in my head all the time.

Right now in my life this is what I am doing:

1. Listening to songs shuffled on my iPod. (Most recent downloads:
Fleetwood Mac, Camera Obscura, Eisley, Butterfly Boucher, Jimmy Cliff, Concrete
Blonde, The Smiths, & TMBG.)

2. Catching Phoenix by the back of her diaper a 1/2 inch from the floor of
Wal*mart as she plummets out of a shopping cart to her death.

3. Driving aimlessly around Louisville looking for cool houses to show my
friend Melissa when she visits in September. My goal is to have driven down
every street in Louisville. One cool thing I found was an antique Volkswagen TRUCK! I never knew such a thing existed. I will post pictures at a later date. It was so cool!!!!!

4. Visiting Colonel Sanders' grave in Cave Hill Cemetery. There is a bust
of him. He was a handsome devil. I loved his twinkling eyes and dashing
moustache!

5. Reading Douglas Coupland books: Eleanor Rigby, All Families are
Psychotic, Miss Wyoming and now Microserfs.

6. Doing a Beth Moore Bible study, Living Free, that focuses on
praying the Scripture, which I desperately need more of in my life. As Anne
Lamott says, "My mind is a dangerous place I shouldn't go into alone."

7. Talking with Kim Kamer about books, movies, life, death, anxiety,
depression, sin, redemption and food until the wee hours of the morning. 8. Writing REAL letters to my friends that I am separated from.

9. Finding ways to hide from our landlords and exit the premises in Olympic sprinting fashion, with Phoenix thrown over my shoulder for more freedom of movement, all while attempting to look perfectly composed.

10. Smothering my daughter, Phoenix, in as many hugs and kisses as she can handle in a day.

Please forgive this horrendous formatting, I have no idea what is happening here!

God is Bringing Us Into a Good Land

We're moving to Louisville in 7 days. 1 week. We still don't have an apartment, but we're choosing to have faith that God will provide a home for us. We do have a car, thanks to our dearest friend, Mindiana. That is a good start. As good a start as any. We have a car, a destination, good friends, and each other. The rest is left to the Lord.
The last few years I have been so faithless, and I don't mean in an apostate sense, as in losing my faith or abandoning faith or rejecting God. I mean more like a spiritual torpor, an emptiness, a vague interior lethargy that leaves me a little lost but mostly just vacant.
I don't feel angry with God, like he purposefully hurt me, more like wounded by God and now I need to protect myself from him. So I make my plans and fill up my days and I get by. I am "doing" way more than "being." I am living outside myself a little too. And living outside God a lot.
And so now, in the midst of all my self-protection and disbelief, we are making another transition, with the stakes just as high and possibly even higher. And I won't allow myself to hope for the best. I have to protect myself against the worst case scenario. I suspend my sense of wonder and excitement and joy and instead I invest in reality and practicality and very serious consequences. I trust in myself, and Mike, and Mindy and credit checks and personal references and good old-fashioned common sense. Because I am so afraid to trust in God, so afraid of the next "lesson," "discipline," "test," or "challenge."
But at the same time, in my own sick way, I feel like maybe God is trying to prove himself to me. Not that he needs to, he is God after all. But maybe because he wants to. Sort of like Gomer and Hosea, maybe he is trying to win back my faithless heart by answering my prayers and giving me what I need. This may all sound like heresy for all I know and maybe it's just me talking myself into having faith again, but this is what I think.
I was asking God for the perfect solutions to all our problems. Aim high, of course, and take the best deal you can. The best solutions to me would be this: Blessing us with a car. Completely cancel the debt we will owe to Jews for Jesus, which is probably going to amount to something like $15,000. Provide us with the cheapest apartment, which also happens to be in the best possible location for us.
Here's how the Lord has seen fit to solve those problems: Blessed us with Mindy's car. Decreased the debt we owed to Jews for Jesus to $6444.80. Withheld from us the perfect apartment in the best possible location. Actually at the moment, not only is that apartment withheld, but we have not found an apartment to replace the perfect apartment.
In an attempt to think about these predicaments in a faith-full way, here is what I have come up with: God could have cancelled the debt entirely if he wanted to. That is the truth. But he didn't. Perhaps it is because he is trying to tell us that he will provide for us even if we have to start out our new life in debt. God could have given us that perfect apartment. But he didn't. Perhaps it is because he is trying to tell us that he will provide for us even if we have to start out our new life in debt, and even have to pay a substantially higher rent than we would have had to with the perfect apartment. Maybe he is just trying to tell us that he loves us and wants us to know that, even though it is killing me to walk through this right now, and is very difficult to choose to believe. I am such a doubting Thomas; Lord, I believe, help my unbelief. I know exactly how he felt. How jaded you can become when you hope and trust, and you lose what you love.
My friend Melissa told me to read Deuteronomy 8, which in the NIV is entitled "Do Not Forget the Lord." Here is one section in particular that stood out to me, verses 6-9:

Observe the commands of the LORD your God, walking in his ways and revering him. For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land—a land with streams and pools of water, with springs flowing in the valleys and hills; a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills.

That reminds me of my favorite verses in Isaiah where he talks about roots and springs and beauty from ashes. It also reminds me of Psalm 16, which I had memorized a few years ago, when I was feeling especially discontent with my life, and it still remains one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. Here are verses 5-11:

LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
you have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I will praise the LORD, who counsels me;
even at night my heart instructs me.
I have set the LORD always before me.
Because he is at my right hand,
I will not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
my body also will rest secure,
because you will not abandon me to the grave,
nor will you let your Holy One see decay.

You have made known to me the path of life;
you will fill me with joy in your presence,
with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Will. Not may, not might, but will. A positive, strong word that denotes action and steadfastness. "I will praise the Lord," "I will not be shaken," "my body also will rest secure," "you will not abandon me to the grave," "nor will you let your Holy One see decay," "you will fill me with joy."
I will choose to believe that. I will let him fill me and love me and provide for me. And maybe in the process, I will be healed.

About Face

I'm sitting at my computer listening to the latest Over the Rhine album, Drunkard's Prayer, trying to process what has happened this last week. Our lives have turned completely around and are heading in a direction I never expected, only dreamed of. After turning down Jews for Jesus and planning to strike out on our own, I feel almost euphoric at the possibilities. I don't regret the last year at all, maybe just the debt we've incurred (I regret that a lot), but I feel completely liberated and ready for our next family adventure.
Although we are nervous about jobs and supporting the family, we are very excited about living in a brand new place and living closer to Mindy. There are so many great things about Louisville: archery ranges in the city parks, photography classes at the park district for $52, getting to eat at Lynn's Paradise Cafe whenever I damn well please; that's the life for me!
I'm on a daily e-mail list that sends me a devotional from the Bruderhof Community. One day this poem was on there. I just fell for it. It's beautiful.

To Jesus in the Spring

Oh, break the chrysalis of doubt!
Plough up the clods of thick despair
And split the buds of ignorance,
And cleanse the winter-heavy air.

Create a tumult in our hearts!
Drive us to seek what we have lost,
Until the flame of faith again
Has seared us with thy Pentecost.

Jane Tyson Clement

Anxiety or PMS?

It's 1:48 a.m. Last night I was up to nearly 3:30 a.m. I kept thinking about the future. What if we're rejected by Jews for Jesus? What if we're accepted? How are we going to survive that plane ride to San Francisco with Phoenix on our laps? I am so absolutely sleepless!
Tonight I started thinking about Phoenix and how amazingly cute she is. How when she walks she looks like a plumper, hairier, smaller version of Mr. Burns. She sticks her neck out and raises her arms up to her chest and totters along, bouncing off walls and tables and whatever random people are in her line of sight at the time.
All of a sudden I thought, she won't be like this forever. She won't always walk up to me and lay her head on my knee, or chew on my bare toe while I watch Will & Grace, or try to sit on my head when I'm lying on the floor to play with her. But the walking, watching her walk, swelling with pride and bursting with laughter at her clumsy toddler antics, this is what I will miss. And I just started to ache inside. I don't want these images to ever leave my memory. But what if they do? So I told Mike we have to get a video camera. We've already gone over a year with nary a video image of our girl to show for it. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves. But of course we can't get a video camera. Not yet. I suppose we could borrow one. I just have to capture that walk. That insatiable curiosity, that absolute ownership of the world around her. I will miss this baby so much.
So I got out of bed and got on the computer and opened my old Outlook Express e-mail account, so I could look through my old e-mails and pull out the stuff I had written about Phoenix. I don't want to forget anything. But the first 6 weeks aren't there. They must have been on an old computer. I just got so scared that I would forget how she amazes me every day.
Like a few weeks ago my friend Becky gave Phoenix and I a ride to Bible study. Phoenix was in the back seat with Becky's two daughters, Cami and Natalie. Natalie is maybe 7 months younger than Phoenix. And she hates the car seat with a searing evil hatred. She cries the whole time she's in it. So Phoenix is in her own car seat which she does not hate with a searing evil hatred and she is looking at Natalie with such compassion and concern, and she actually holds her hand! And keeps looking at me, like she wants me to tell her what to do to help this poor baby feel better. It was so sweet. Then there was the time she walked by the pastor's baby girl, Elizabeth, and plucked the Nuk right out of her mouth and kept walking, like she had just been given a flyer for a tarot card reading on a street corner. They call her the "Drive-By."
She has many dimensions, my girl, and I pretty much love and adore each of them. Even her rage hits a soft spot in me, and it is hard not to laugh too obviously at her.
I still can't believe she's all mine. I am surprised every morning when she wakes up screaming, still with us, healthy and whole and charged with life. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that God can be this good, when I've believed so many other terrible things about him. That he would give me a gift so priceless and rare and fragile as this baby girl, when I so obviously deserve so much less.

Oh the bliss of reciprocated affection!

We've been teaching Phoenix how to kiss for months now. She's still a bit clumsy with it, and she does not give out affection freely. You can beg and plead all you want for the simplest peck or lightest embrace, but no, she does not bestow these affections lightly. She surprised me once when I was buckling her into the carseat, as I was leaning down, she leaned forward and gave me a kiss. It was mostly sound effects (a hearty "tsk") with very little contact, but it was her own doing, which moved me.
But today was different. Maybe it was because she has outgrown her morning nap and she was a bit delusional from fatigue. We were in our next-door neighbor Leah's apartment. Phoenix was exploring in her usual harried, manic style and at one point she sort of sidles over and backs into me and leans against my legs. So I pick her up and she turns to me and throws her arms around me, squeezing my neck with almost as much force as she usually uses to push me away and she kisses me. On the lips. For real. And keeps squeezing me and looking at my face. It was amazing. She usually doesn't so tricks on demand, mostly won't perform publicly, so this was indeed special.
Later that same day we went out for a walk with Leah, and her daughter, Selah. When we got home I was picking her up out of the stroller and she does it again. Wraps herself around me and plants a huge kiss on my lips so forcefully that our teeth collide. It was absolutely breathtaking. She's really catching on to this kissing business. And although I would love her to hug and kiss me when I ask for it, it is so much better to receive it completely unbidden and by surprise. I know there will come a time when she will slam her door in my face and tell me she wishes I weren't her mother, so I will play those kisses over and over again in my memory to remind myself that I'm not a bad mother, really, most of the time.

Phoenix with the Easter Bunny.