Here's the thing about self pity. I sure don't feel a whole lot better about myself when I pity myself. I've gained nothing worthwhile by examining my morbid state. I don't feel any better. I feel depressed. I feel more pathetic. More insecure.
Nope, self pity has got to go...bye bye.
Showing posts with label personal observations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal observations. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Other Night...
I was watching a scene from the 1987 movie called the Whales of August. In it one of the main characters named Sarah (Lillian Gish) sits down at her vanity to pretty herself before her gentleman dinner guest (Vincent Price) arrives. (Mind you Sarah is a 92 year old woman). As she sits down at her vanity you see her long, fine, white hair cascading down her back and she quickly and efficiently twists it up into an expert bun with her old arthritic hands. Then she grabs a fuzzy white powder puff and dabs her face quickly with it before leaving to set the table. As I watched this scene I was painfully reminded of my little old grandmother's desire to still feel beautiful and I immediately bust into tears. Literally. That's not something that I'm capable of doing on command, but nevertheless...I did it.
My grandmother is still alive, gingerly walking around on this planet in what has got to be the midnight hours of her life. She is 88 years old, (me thinks) and as of last month has now out-lived her two younger sisters and almost all of her generation in our family, save a few cousins in South America and Rhode Island.
I can't imagine what it must be like to live that long. Longer than the rest. To live long enough to watch your entire generation disappear and be the last. She is the last remaining Matriarch of our family and when she goes, it will be the end of an era. I think my childhood will officially be just a memory as having her here on this earth keeps my past alive somehow. She is part of my very early memories of life.
She is the embodiment of the spoon full of sugar I used to steal from her sugar bowl when no one was looking.
She is the pearl earrings and necklace that once were hers but are now mine because she gave them to me.
She is the sunny side up egg and Taylor Ham if I ever taste it.
She is the winter hat I never wanted to wear, but now I wear it.
She is Frank Sinatra's New York, New York whenever I hear it.
She is the old widow who gave her "two mites" whenever I read it.
She Is.
I wonder if maybe those silly things will help me to somehow tangibly feel her when she is gone. Like the feeling you get when you watch old family movies that are still on the reel or an old VHS. The thing is, once they're gone, it's never the same anymore. The hole that is left will never go away--but can only be filled in by the healing balm of time which one hopes will make the pain in missing someone stop; and only leave a dull ache at the after thought.
Such is the way of life...and death I suppose.
I'm gently reminded of this scripture that the apostle Paul wrote reminding the church at Corinth:
For he (the Lord) says, "In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I helped you." I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation. (2 Corinthians 6:2/ Isaiah 49:8)
All we have is today. So let us redeem the time. Why? Because today is the day of Salvation.
My grandmother is still alive, gingerly walking around on this planet in what has got to be the midnight hours of her life. She is 88 years old, (me thinks) and as of last month has now out-lived her two younger sisters and almost all of her generation in our family, save a few cousins in South America and Rhode Island.
I can't imagine what it must be like to live that long. Longer than the rest. To live long enough to watch your entire generation disappear and be the last. She is the last remaining Matriarch of our family and when she goes, it will be the end of an era. I think my childhood will officially be just a memory as having her here on this earth keeps my past alive somehow. She is part of my very early memories of life.
She is the embodiment of the spoon full of sugar I used to steal from her sugar bowl when no one was looking.
She is the pearl earrings and necklace that once were hers but are now mine because she gave them to me.
She is the sunny side up egg and Taylor Ham if I ever taste it.
She is the winter hat I never wanted to wear, but now I wear it.
She is Frank Sinatra's New York, New York whenever I hear it.
She is the old widow who gave her "two mites" whenever I read it.
She Is.
I wonder if maybe those silly things will help me to somehow tangibly feel her when she is gone. Like the feeling you get when you watch old family movies that are still on the reel or an old VHS. The thing is, once they're gone, it's never the same anymore. The hole that is left will never go away--but can only be filled in by the healing balm of time which one hopes will make the pain in missing someone stop; and only leave a dull ache at the after thought.
Such is the way of life...and death I suppose.
I'm gently reminded of this scripture that the apostle Paul wrote reminding the church at Corinth:
For he (the Lord) says, "In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I helped you." I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation. (2 Corinthians 6:2/ Isaiah 49:8)
All we have is today. So let us redeem the time. Why? Because today is the day of Salvation.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Night Swimming...(Remember that R.E.M song?)
I don't suppose I've done this much swimming in the summer since I was a little kid. Seattle has had the hottest summer on record since temperatures were being recorded back in 1891. In certain places we have capped out at 109 degrees, though Seattle proper hit 103 last week. You'd think we were living in Arizona or something. I can't remember the last time it even rained! I'm not complaining about that fact, it's just a fact that I'm stating. It's been an incredibly hot summer and I've loved it.
My friends and I have frequented many, many of the lakes and rivers in the area during the day and even very late into the night for a swim. I love getting together with my darling friends and feeling so carefree, jumping off the docks and into what feels like bathwater for a late night swim. I've been relishing these days and nights. It goes something like this:
(A 10pm phone call and I'm almost in my jammies) "Hey Colleen! It's too hot to sleep so we are all going swimming, you in?" ....heck yes I am.
I love that fact that I can just up and go whenever I want. It's such a liberating feeling and when I arrive down at the dock I seriously feel like I'm twelve again. We all feel that way. You forget that really you are a grown up with a job and bills or a mortgage to pay. No. Down at the dock it's just you in your swimsuit and the laughter of your friends as you all splash and dunk and dive again and again, just like when you were a kid. I've floated on inner tubes, eaten drippy popsicles, gone to bed very late and watched my face explode with freckles these last 4 weeks.
These things have helped me to momentarily forget that I lost my job, or the fact that the relationship that I was in flopped or that I'm really not sure at all in what direction my life is going in whatsoever.
I guess what I'm saying is this...it's been a rough summer, but God's grace is still sufficient for me and I see that in the little things, no matter how small they seem, like night swimming. :)
My friends and I have frequented many, many of the lakes and rivers in the area during the day and even very late into the night for a swim. I love getting together with my darling friends and feeling so carefree, jumping off the docks and into what feels like bathwater for a late night swim. I've been relishing these days and nights. It goes something like this:
(A 10pm phone call and I'm almost in my jammies) "Hey Colleen! It's too hot to sleep so we are all going swimming, you in?" ....heck yes I am.
I love that fact that I can just up and go whenever I want. It's such a liberating feeling and when I arrive down at the dock I seriously feel like I'm twelve again. We all feel that way. You forget that really you are a grown up with a job and bills or a mortgage to pay. No. Down at the dock it's just you in your swimsuit and the laughter of your friends as you all splash and dunk and dive again and again, just like when you were a kid. I've floated on inner tubes, eaten drippy popsicles, gone to bed very late and watched my face explode with freckles these last 4 weeks.
These things have helped me to momentarily forget that I lost my job, or the fact that the relationship that I was in flopped or that I'm really not sure at all in what direction my life is going in whatsoever.
I guess what I'm saying is this...it's been a rough summer, but God's grace is still sufficient for me and I see that in the little things, no matter how small they seem, like night swimming. :)
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Growing in the Dirt Pt.II
It's an interesting thing about dirt. When you're covered in dirt, you want to get it off. You're considered "Dirty". Dirty in society is not a good thing. If you were like me when you were little, you came in from a summer afternoon of making dirty mud pies while trying to feed them to your little sister and afterwards, your mother made you clean up before dinner.
As Americans we are way more obsessed with cleanliness then Europeans. They are just a little more okay with skipping showers for 3 to 5 days and being a little dirty.
Not me.
No, I shower almost every day if I can help it. I love the feeling of being clean. (Sports, camping and a muddy football pitch excluded.) However, as I was thinking about crocuses and flowers in general, I was thinking how odd it seems that something so beautiful could come out of something so, well, dirty.
God chose to make flowers grow not out of water or some sort of clean substance, but from dirt.
Sometimes the only way you can grow in your walk with the Lord is through the dirt or mess that has become your life. I would often find myself crying out to God, "Lord what a mess my life is! How is this ever going to be okay?" It's rough when things seem hopeless, messy or just plain dirty.
Then I realized that the Lord knew what He was doing when He invented flowers. I think He wanted me to notice that without the dirt, the beauty that becomes the flower would never flourish without the perfect setting of the dirt to cause it to grow.
I guess that's what Paul meant when he said:
"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." -Romans 5:3-5
I find those words so comforting as I have experienced seasons of "Sackcloth and Ashes" so to speak and one knows that in seasons such as those, you feel anything but clean.
But to everything there is a season...and the Lord is faithful to always bring the rain and through the dirt the flower grows. So let Him Rein in your hearts and minds today and He will wash away the filth from the daughters of Zion. (Isaiah 4:4)
As Americans we are way more obsessed with cleanliness then Europeans. They are just a little more okay with skipping showers for 3 to 5 days and being a little dirty.
Not me.
No, I shower almost every day if I can help it. I love the feeling of being clean. (Sports, camping and a muddy football pitch excluded.) However, as I was thinking about crocuses and flowers in general, I was thinking how odd it seems that something so beautiful could come out of something so, well, dirty.
God chose to make flowers grow not out of water or some sort of clean substance, but from dirt.
Sometimes the only way you can grow in your walk with the Lord is through the dirt or mess that has become your life. I would often find myself crying out to God, "Lord what a mess my life is! How is this ever going to be okay?" It's rough when things seem hopeless, messy or just plain dirty.
Then I realized that the Lord knew what He was doing when He invented flowers. I think He wanted me to notice that without the dirt, the beauty that becomes the flower would never flourish without the perfect setting of the dirt to cause it to grow.
I guess that's what Paul meant when he said:
"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." -Romans 5:3-5
I find those words so comforting as I have experienced seasons of "Sackcloth and Ashes" so to speak and one knows that in seasons such as those, you feel anything but clean.
But to everything there is a season...and the Lord is faithful to always bring the rain and through the dirt the flower grows. So let Him Rein in your hearts and minds today and He will wash away the filth from the daughters of Zion. (Isaiah 4:4)
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Listening and Waiting
It's late. I'm in my pj's. What's on my heart tonight? Learning to listen and wait on the Lord. I'm not talking about listening for the Lord while you're driving or doing the dishes. I'm talking about something that I kinda get the feeling few Christians including myself really learn how to do. Listen and wait. No agenda. No plans. No prayers. No worship even. Just getting on your face and waiting on the Lord. Sounds weird huh? I know it does, because few people actually do it, I think.
I feel like the Lord has been after me in this area to seek Him simply for Him. For nothing else and to do absolutely nothing while seeking Him except listen. I dare you to try it for five minutes and I promise you after two you'll be done wanting to wait. You'll get antsy. Your mind will flood with thoughts, wants, petitions, your to do list, whatever. If you're anything like me, (think energizer bunny) you will find this virtually impossible. So I dare you to try it with me anyway because it's worth it.
I'm sure that so many of us hear, but don't listen. Or wait, but are not still. God can speak to us however He wants and I'm not saying that you have to lie prostrate in order to hear from God, but there is a humility and submission that comes from getting on your face and thinking about the Awesomeness of God and His love that is quite a different experience for the fleshly body that we live in.
If you think about how you normally relate to God or to your friends, there is usually some sort of active verb involved. With the Lord it can be praying, singing, reading (your bible) or actually doing something. With friends, it can be all those things and much more. What I'm talking about are the two most passive verbs I can think of outside of sleeping; waiting and listening.
I personally have so much stuff going on right now that I can't afford to not hear from the Lord properly. I can't afford to be wrong in what I'm hearing. I'm not saying I need to be perfect in this, because I'm not, but I do know that He wants me (us!) to hear Him above the noise, above the distractions in life and most certainly above our own thoughts or "good ideas" for God.
Here's the thing. He is so faithful to direct us if we wait for Him. I can't stand it when Christians refer to God as their co-pilot. He shouldn't be the co-pilot. He's the pilot. We don't lead. He does...if we are willing to hand over the controls. But we don't. I don't. I can't seem to want to let go of my agenda and the Lord in His mercy is making my life so loud, that I'm seeing that unless I learn to throw out my agenda and get what he is trying to show me here...I just might miss something.
So I'm learning to wait and listen. Sometimes, He doesn't say anything to me. Which makes me wonder if like fasting, it's just the discipline of my heart He's after. Yesterday however he did show me something and so I did exactly what He wanted me to do and the outcome was awesome. If nothing else, He simply bolstered my faith that I can in fact hear specifically from Him if I would just take the time to do so.
Proverbs 8: 34-36
"Blessed is the man who listens to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway. For whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the LORD. But whoever fails to find me harms himself; all who hate me love death."
I feel like the Lord has been after me in this area to seek Him simply for Him. For nothing else and to do absolutely nothing while seeking Him except listen. I dare you to try it for five minutes and I promise you after two you'll be done wanting to wait. You'll get antsy. Your mind will flood with thoughts, wants, petitions, your to do list, whatever. If you're anything like me, (think energizer bunny) you will find this virtually impossible. So I dare you to try it with me anyway because it's worth it.
I'm sure that so many of us hear, but don't listen. Or wait, but are not still. God can speak to us however He wants and I'm not saying that you have to lie prostrate in order to hear from God, but there is a humility and submission that comes from getting on your face and thinking about the Awesomeness of God and His love that is quite a different experience for the fleshly body that we live in.
If you think about how you normally relate to God or to your friends, there is usually some sort of active verb involved. With the Lord it can be praying, singing, reading (your bible) or actually doing something. With friends, it can be all those things and much more. What I'm talking about are the two most passive verbs I can think of outside of sleeping; waiting and listening.
I personally have so much stuff going on right now that I can't afford to not hear from the Lord properly. I can't afford to be wrong in what I'm hearing. I'm not saying I need to be perfect in this, because I'm not, but I do know that He wants me (us!) to hear Him above the noise, above the distractions in life and most certainly above our own thoughts or "good ideas" for God.
Here's the thing. He is so faithful to direct us if we wait for Him. I can't stand it when Christians refer to God as their co-pilot. He shouldn't be the co-pilot. He's the pilot. We don't lead. He does...if we are willing to hand over the controls. But we don't. I don't. I can't seem to want to let go of my agenda and the Lord in His mercy is making my life so loud, that I'm seeing that unless I learn to throw out my agenda and get what he is trying to show me here...I just might miss something.
So I'm learning to wait and listen. Sometimes, He doesn't say anything to me. Which makes me wonder if like fasting, it's just the discipline of my heart He's after. Yesterday however he did show me something and so I did exactly what He wanted me to do and the outcome was awesome. If nothing else, He simply bolstered my faith that I can in fact hear specifically from Him if I would just take the time to do so.
Proverbs 8: 34-36
"Blessed is the man who listens to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway. For whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the LORD. But whoever fails to find me harms himself; all who hate me love death."
Sunday, October 12, 2008
For My Auntie
It's interesting how the cares and worries of our life can stop full stride when someone we know dies. Everything comes to a roving halt and perspective comes smashing down in front of our face, as if the ceiling caved in and you find yourself coughing in the powdery dust around you, waiting for the air to clear.
Not to be overly morbid, but I do think about death probably more so then your average person out there who is generally trying to *not* think about death. I think about it because it's inevitable and it's so important to know that life does not stop beyond the confines of this world. No, our spirits are eternal.
I knew someone who was alive this morning and now is no longer alive or present on this earth. I cannot deny the sadness in my heart today. Yet the Lord is faithful. Not two months ago did He give me a dream of her passing and I knew that it would be soon. He even allowed me the opportunity to say goodbye when I last visited my family and when I left her, I knew I would never see her again. So I cannot say that I am shocked, or didn't see it coming. However, she represented such sweet memories of my childhood and the leaving of her presence on earth is the taking of the tangible person with whom those memories were made.
Memories of wearing her shoes because her feet were so small I could fit into them. Memories of sitting at her vanity and nosing through every piece of jewelry, makeup, photograph and lacy underwear thingy I could find.
Memories of not wanting to eat, so she made up a character called Mr. Breakfast who consisted of her two fingers walking across my plate and he would come to *taste* my scrambled eggs which made me want to eat them.
Memories of her voice and how she would always say "Helloyyyy Colleen" in her sweet little way.
All the parties, all her clothes; so stylish. Her small hands, her sparkly eyes....
Dang it, I didn't mean for this post to end up in the first person. I wanted to stay outside this story. But how can you remove yourself from the ones you love and not have it get personal anyway? That I suppose is a writer's trick that I have yet to learn.
So today is a quiet day. A day for reading the Psalms. A day of remembrance. A day that is sobering. I am reminded of how brief my life is and how I can take nothing with me and how one day I will give an account to my Heavenly Father for the gift of love and life He breathed into me and how I chose to live it...To You Lord, be the Glory!
Romans8:38,39
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Not to be overly morbid, but I do think about death probably more so then your average person out there who is generally trying to *not* think about death. I think about it because it's inevitable and it's so important to know that life does not stop beyond the confines of this world. No, our spirits are eternal.
I knew someone who was alive this morning and now is no longer alive or present on this earth. I cannot deny the sadness in my heart today. Yet the Lord is faithful. Not two months ago did He give me a dream of her passing and I knew that it would be soon. He even allowed me the opportunity to say goodbye when I last visited my family and when I left her, I knew I would never see her again. So I cannot say that I am shocked, or didn't see it coming. However, she represented such sweet memories of my childhood and the leaving of her presence on earth is the taking of the tangible person with whom those memories were made.
Memories of wearing her shoes because her feet were so small I could fit into them. Memories of sitting at her vanity and nosing through every piece of jewelry, makeup, photograph and lacy underwear thingy I could find.
Memories of not wanting to eat, so she made up a character called Mr. Breakfast who consisted of her two fingers walking across my plate and he would come to *taste* my scrambled eggs which made me want to eat them.
Memories of her voice and how she would always say "Helloyyyy Colleen" in her sweet little way.
All the parties, all her clothes; so stylish. Her small hands, her sparkly eyes....
Dang it, I didn't mean for this post to end up in the first person. I wanted to stay outside this story. But how can you remove yourself from the ones you love and not have it get personal anyway? That I suppose is a writer's trick that I have yet to learn.
So today is a quiet day. A day for reading the Psalms. A day of remembrance. A day that is sobering. I am reminded of how brief my life is and how I can take nothing with me and how one day I will give an account to my Heavenly Father for the gift of love and life He breathed into me and how I chose to live it...To You Lord, be the Glory!
Romans8:38,39
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Random Musings
I’m in the airport again. I love the airport. I love people watching. I love watching the plans take off. I even get dressed up for the occasion. I never look like a slob when I go to the airport. That’s just a Colleen Never.
I'm observing two young Asian business men who are eating their scrambled eggs with chopsticks. At first I thought that was odd. But then when I really thought about it, I figured why not.
It is so dark out because the sun has not yet risen. It could be eight o’clock at night, but it’s not. It’s 6:15 in the morning and I’ve had the hiccups since before I went to bed four hours ago.
I’ve got an Earl Grey and a croissant for breakfast here. I’m tempted to ask those Asian guys if I could borrow their chop sticks for a bite of egg but I don’t think that would go over very well…
I’m off to Phoenix on business. Probably for the last time in a very long time. The weather is supposed to be in the hundreds and I can’t wait.
The last time I went I got to see some of the Grand Canyon. However this time I think it will be a little more low-key. Then as soon as I get back to Seattle I’m shooting over to a folk singer’s house to pet sit for the weekend. The house is gorgeous and the FOUR doggies are adorable. The house is on the water and connects Lake Union to Lake Washington and I get to watch the sail boats from their deck.
They even have a silly chicken coup in the back yard with six chickens and a rooster. Catching them for "bed" at night should be interesting....
I'm observing two young Asian business men who are eating their scrambled eggs with chopsticks. At first I thought that was odd. But then when I really thought about it, I figured why not.
It is so dark out because the sun has not yet risen. It could be eight o’clock at night, but it’s not. It’s 6:15 in the morning and I’ve had the hiccups since before I went to bed four hours ago.
I’ve got an Earl Grey and a croissant for breakfast here. I’m tempted to ask those Asian guys if I could borrow their chop sticks for a bite of egg but I don’t think that would go over very well…
I’m off to Phoenix on business. Probably for the last time in a very long time. The weather is supposed to be in the hundreds and I can’t wait.
The last time I went I got to see some of the Grand Canyon. However this time I think it will be a little more low-key. Then as soon as I get back to Seattle I’m shooting over to a folk singer’s house to pet sit for the weekend. The house is gorgeous and the FOUR doggies are adorable. The house is on the water and connects Lake Union to Lake Washington and I get to watch the sail boats from their deck.
They even have a silly chicken coup in the back yard with six chickens and a rooster. Catching them for "bed" at night should be interesting....
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