Busy Week

This week has been filled with people. I’m exhausted. I slept two hours past my alarm, and even then it was hard to get up. I feel my introversion very physically when I’m out around people. It’s been good, but it’s also been tiring.

This morning I have a little break before another group this afternoon. I’m so thankful to have a little rest before going out again. Then my calendar is filled through the weekend too.

It’s a nice rainy/overcast day, and I’m thankful for the warmer weather. I’ve managed to fit in a couple walks alone, and without that I’m sure the tiredness would be worse. I thought about doing some writing, but I feel like my brain (and body) might be too tired and I won’t be able to think clearly. Maybe I’ll read. I just need time to let my mind wander freely on its own. I don’t know what I’ll do this morning, but I’m giving myself permission to rest.

How do you feel your introversion? Do you have any favorite things to do to recover from socializing?

Summer Gratitude

It’s a beautiful day today. The sun is out, birds are singing, and I feel happy with open windows and fresh air filling my home. It makes me sad to think that this could be our last spring/summer in this apartment. I’m not ready to move again, but if the timing’s right, I know that’s what we’ll need to do.

Every morning I get up, have Bible and prayer time, journal with a cup of tea, then do yoga. I’m finding myself much better able to stay in the moment, and even better able to have hope for the future.

Hope’s a funny thing, what does it really mean to have hope, to rest, to wait? I guess it’s about knowing that somehow, some way, everything is going to be okay, no matter what we see from our vantage point.

A lot has changed in the past year. I’ve grown, I’ve struggled, and yet, I seem to be moving consistently upward. Not that the hard times don’t come, but that they don’t seem to hold me down as long or as frequently as they used to.

I’m thankful for the coming summer, warm weather and sunshine, I want to soak it all in. I’m thankful for being able to get outside, for the freedom to explore. And I’m also grateful for the time I have in my home and in nature to let my mind wander and drift, finally in a freer way. Finally feeling peace and calm. A deep inner hope, knowing that someday, it’s all going to be okay.

Sunday Rain

I sit on the couch clinging to my now warm cup of tea. Outside, the rain pours and cars pass on the streets below. I’m lost in my own little world, and perfectly content with it at that.

We never know how things will change from one day to the next. Yesterday, was sweltering, beautiful, but very warm, today… Today the chill is back, but I’m loving every second of it. Every change, every season, has it’s high points. I want to be more conscious and intentional at acknowledging the good.

Today in church something spoke to me. I realized something about myself that I haven’t wanted to acknowledge. I’m sure that it’ll take some time for the peaceful whirlwind inside to calm enough for me to see clearly, but in this moment, I find peace.

I value self-awareness, I value understanding. When I realize that I haven’t been living up to this standard, and have instead been chasing other people’s opinions and riding on their feelings, things get all tangled inside.

I’m an emotional sponge. I absorb everything around me. Sometimes so much that I no longer know what my own thoughts, feelings, or opinions even are anymore. I know this is a common INFJ trait, and I suppose on some level, the knowledge that there are others out there like me, gives me peace.

My head throbs with over-exhaustion, and I’m debating taking a nap. But right now, I’m content in my own little world, vague as it may be, letting my mind process things on a level I’m only vaguely conscious of. It will come to me eventually. I trust that whatever knowledge I might need will come, in its own timing. In God’s timing.

For now, I sit in the silence of another peaceful day before the week begins. Letting all my questions hang in the balance, content with them staying unanswered until the right time when all will be made clear.

What are you up to this weekend?

Saturday Stories

I sit here with a hot cup of tea, tired from a long day, enjoying a moment of peaceful silence, and thankful for the life I have and the people God has placed around me. I am so thankful for my community, my friends, the people who have become like family, through no form of obligation, but out of a true and genuine desire to be there.

Reading has become a more regular way to unwind at the end of the day, and it’s always interesting to see how my mind wanders from the words on the page and spirals down the tendrils of thoughts, drifting from one to the next as the words take on a greater meaning.

I want to write a story that matters. I’m not so sure I’ve succeeded. I write, then rewrite, then rearrange, and pull it apart, then paste it together. Sometimes I think my book (the one I primarily care about) is a sad little puzzle, its pieces changing as I change and grow through life.

I think it has significance, I think it could. It has to me at least, and sometimes that’s all that matters.

Someone offered me a bunch of old books today. I’m excited to go through them and see what she has. They’re in really good condition and have sentimental value to her, and I love when books, or anything really, takes on more meaning to the person who owns them, and create stories of their own beyond just what their pages contain.

People are like that. We accumulate stories around us, whether we realize it or not. And it’s interesting because all of our stories weave together, creating a tapestry far greater than any of our individual strands could on their own.

Community. Books. Stories. We all have something important to share, the sad thing is that we’re not always aware of that. But our lives have impact.

And so I’m thankful today, on this sunny Saturday, for friends that have become family, and books that tell stories far beyond their pages.

Choosing Together

There was an open house across the street this weekend. We didn’t go, I wanted to, but we didn’t. Instead, we opted for some quality time together.

My husband and I have this thing where we walk in the rain with warm drinks while talking about life, philosophy, or anything really. Since he’s been working away, these times together seem even more precious than they used to.

I’m thankful for little moments together, and special shared traditions.

I wonder about our future, and what the future holds, but today, in this moment, I’m feeling more peace and even some hopeful excitement.

We’ll likely never buy the house across the street (though it was curiosity mostly, I like seeing how other people live and what they do with their homes), but it makes me wonder where we will someday live. It also serves as a reminder that not everything lasts forever, and the future still awaits.

We have a choice. We always have a choice. And sometimes we need to choose time with the ones we love, over seeing how others live. We all walk our own unique path, no two alike. Sometimes paths will cross, and sometimes they’ll join.

Sometimes we have to choose to prioritize what really matters, and stop worrying about others and what they think. I think I fuse too easily with outside people, I become an emotional sponge, and I end up worn out and torn in a million directions. These quiet moments are the ones I treasure, the peaceful moments, getting lost blissfully in the rain.

Real Friendship

I got together with a friend today. We share our struggles, our joys, our pain points, our triggers… It is so good to have a friend to both laugh and cry with. So often we see friendships portrayed in the good times, people laughing and smiling, and those are all wonderful things that I’m thankful for, but there’s more to us than a painted on smile.

Sometimes we need to take off our masks, and it is so good to have someone I’m comfortable with, who I know is comfortable with me.

I crave depth in relationships. I don’t want a surfacy conversation about the weather or how Aunt Gertrude’s cat is doing. Depth doesn’t always mean pain, but it does require, and allow, a vulnerability that isn’t present in superficial relationships. That means being honest even in the hard things, the things that rip us to our very core.

This time we laughed, and only cried a little, but that’s how life is, it’s a mixture of both, of good and bad. And I’m so grateful to have someone I can share fully with, who I don’t have to wear a mask for, someone who speaks truth even in my darkness. Where there are no obligations, or expectations, except to be real, and be there.

I have peace in my heart, being once again freshly encouraged by this friendship, and I am so thankful to have a friend who always reassures me that I’m never in this alone.

Eyes Fixed On Hope

I feel like I’m bobbing, drifting out to sea. Not much is happening on the surface, but there’s a fear as I think of what could be lurking underneath. And I feel it. I feel the ripple of fear that cuts through me and sends a shiver down my spine. At the same time, I feel a strange sense of peace, a deeper peace than I’ve felt in a long time, a deep inner knowing that regardless of what storms my come, everything will soon be okay.

Drifting, but not drowning.

There have been so many times through my life that I’ve identified with things that weren’t really me. I believe that everything happens for a reason and God works all things together for good, so there isn’t regret as much as a subtle sadness as I realize my deception. And yet, I know to the core of my being that He is faithful. And I realize that I don’t really feel or experience shame, at least not in this moment, because no matter how far I drift from shore, I rest secure in my Father’s love. And I know that someday, not in my timing, but in His, I will be healed and restored.

And all of this. All of the waiting, the drowning, the flailing, the drifting, all of it will lead me to where I truly belong, all of it will lead to that ultimate Good that in this moment I can’t fully fathom.

All of the struggles, the doubts, the fears, I’ve been redeemed. And that thought brings joy to my soul.

Morning Light

This morning as I looked out my kitchen window to the house a cross the street, I noticed that the garage (that had been white) was yellow. I didn’t remember them painting it yesterday, and thought it was kind of an odd change so suddenly.

Then I realized, the garage wasn’t painted, it was white as always, but it was the light from the early morning sun shining on it.

I suppose there are a few directions I could take this in, and I’m not sure which trail to follow. I guess, sometimes we absorb the things around us, we can identify with it, but we can’t really take credit. Good or bad, our surroundings and who we choose to be around, reflect on us. And yet, sometimes it says more about the object that reflects than it does about us… When we’re an emotional sponge.

But there’s more too, and I’m not sure how to put all these thoughts into words. When we’re washed clean, it gives us a greater ability to share love, love that doesn’t come from us, but from the light that shines in us and around us. This allows us to be seen as something different, to take on the qualities of another, if only for a moment, as we stand in the light of something greater than ourselves.

I feel like this is a lot of rambling without a clear message or purpose, but I want to remember it, and so I write it.

God has a plan and purpose for each and every one of us. Sometimes finding that purpose is an issue of where we’re standing, sometimes it’s about whether or not we have qualities that magnify the light, and sometimes it’s something outside of our control.

What is the state of our heart? Are we of a quality that allows the light to shine on and through us?

“The sun comes up, it’s a new day dawning.”

Chosen

I was helping in the Sunday school classroom this past weekend. At the end of it a little boy said that the made a new friend, the lead teacher asked him who it was, and he pointed to me.

He had helped me clean up, and I played with him some at the beginning of the class, but we didn’t interact a whole lot besides that. And it just got me thinking. It does feel nice to be chosen, and to know that at least on some level we have an impact on those around us. Even small things can mean so much.

I want to help others feel chosen and loved, and I suppose in some way I must have helped this little boy feel that way. And that’s how it works with God. We love because He first loved us.

God isn’t cruel or harsh, though we can project a lot of gunk from the world and sinful people onto Him. God is merciful and kind, and He gently restores us and shows us His love… when we’ll let Him.

I’ve thought a lot lately about receiving love. And how many times we block it, and don’t feel it because we can’t receive it. I know I’ve blocked others and pushed them away, unable to accept their love, and therefore end up not feeling it, even though it’s clearly there.

Then there have been other times that I’ve tried and pushed and given people chances far after I should have closed the door because I wanted love to be there even though it wasn’t.

I don’t really know what I’m saying, but love is a funny thing. And being chosen, that can feel a lot like love. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t. But God is always faithful, and He’s always kind, and He’s always standing there, waiting for us to reach back out to Him, waiting for us to receive the love He so greatly wants to give. God doesn’t want us to go through this life alone.

Our view of God often says more about us than it does about Him.

It’s so easy to be cynical and allow the dysfunction of the world or the people around us to taint our view of God. And it’s so sad because in doing so, we push away the One who loves us most. We project judgement onto God, when what God really wants for us is love. Do we rest secure in that love, or do we push it away and reject it?

Life Changes

My husband just accepted a new job that he’ll have to be away a lot for. I’m really struggling to come to terms with it. I feel the life we’ve had together and the free time we’ve had drawing to a close.

I know we’ll come up with some way to make it work, and I know plenty of other people do, but I guess I’m sad at the idea of missing my husband and those precious times together.

I don’t want us to live separate lives, or drift apart. I love the connection we have. I’m afraid of it going away. I know I’m probably just melodramatic and overreacting, but I love him, and it makes me sad to think of how much he’ll be away.

We made a commitment to go through this life together, and I know that isn’t changing, I’m just struggling with the idea of being apart.