Moving Day

I have never been more excited to see a moving van.  Yesterday, our drug dealing neighbors in their red gang colors finally moved out, personally escorted by the men in blue.  For two years we have watched as crime increased in our beautiful neighborhood, helpless to do anything about it except report license numbers and suspected activity.  Apparently, enough was enough....it was time for them to go.

Which invites the question:  How do we know when it's time for us to move on?  We may have followed the Shepherd's leading to our current home, job, mission field, etc. and knew we were in His perfect will for our lives - at the time.  Of course, some things have obvious endings, such as homeschooling my kids.  When the last one graduated this past June, I knew that I would be moving on to something else.  But what about this home that we were led to through extraordinary circumstances?  What about that perfect work circumstance that doesn't seem so perfect anymore?  How do we know when it's time to go??

It's not that I don't think I can trust His leading; it's that I want to make sure it's His path and not my rabbit trail.  My daily prayer is for Him to close doors that He doesn't want me to go through, and open the one He does.  The only challenge with that is when I hear door after door slamming in my face.  I tend to forget that I asked for this. 

Then I have to remind myself that doors closing are an answer to prayer.  And a great reminder that when it is time to move...He'll send the van.

Masterpiece

We live in a turn of the century home that had been condemned and abandoned for eight years. Thankfully for us, it was completely restored about ten years ago.  Although previously the eyesore of the neighborhood, it is now the gem, an amazingly beautiful blending of the old with the new. 

 No detail was forgotten.  The ceiling in our living and dining rooms, for example, was redone by a 70 year old man, the local expert in the field.  It was, in fact, his very last job before retirement.  The workmanship is amazing.  The entire surface is textured with swirling half circles that perfectly line up in every direction, and at certain times of day, it shows off the sunlight beautifully.  It is so amazing, in fact, that I have to wonder if this was his very best work, his magnum opus of sorts.

Which makes sense.  You spend your entire life developing your talent until towards the end of that life you finally complete your masterpiece.  I sometimes wonder if that's what the Creator was thinking when He created woman.  Yes, mankind was His last creation, but, technically, woman was the final beautiful masterpiece, the icing on the cake. 

Unfortunately, the enemy of our souls would love to destroy that beauty.  He would encourage us to tear it down with our own negative thoughts as we pick apart every detail of the Artist's work.  (My legs are too fat, my hair is too thin, my ears are too big, need I go on??)  Or worse, we compare the masterpiece that we have been created to be with the Artist's other works, as if we could compare a Monet to a Van Gogh!  Both have their own beauty, in their own way, just the way the Master Artist wanted it and created it to be. 

 I heard about an actress recently who had her highly recognizable nose "fixed".  She was lamenting the fact that now she looked like every other actress out there; there wasn't much to distinguish her from the crowd. 

I think, like viewing a painting, we need to step back and see the big picture.  Things are always blurry up close.  Details are messy.  There may be things that we consider to be imperfections, but are there by design.  These things provide the character and the differences that make life interesting.

  I just need to remind myself that I am an original work, a masterpiece created by the Master Artist.  And, even as He textures the corners of my eyes with the swirling half circles of new crow's feet (which line up perfectly in every direction!) I know, as I smile the smile He's given me,  they will help me show off the Sonlight beautifully.

The New Normal

After months of diligent effort and considerable financial outlay, I have, at long last, achieved my goal and received my reward...the Starbucks Gold Card.  After the whirlwind of excitement upon achieving said accomplishment and finally being able to take advantage of all the exclusive benefits, you can imagine my complete and utter discouragement upon discovering that I have....... a dairy allergy.  And, let's face it, what is coffee without the cream, the cafe without the latte??  Yes, I realize Starbucks has tea and (gulp) soy milk, but those things just don't provide the same comfort as a tall ristretto sugar-free cinnamon dulce breve latte with whip.   (Side note: my theory is that Starbucks fills a need in all of us formula-fed babies that breast-fed babies just don't understand.)

So, now I face the challenge of what I like to call 'The New Normal'.  Things are constantly changing, and we have to change with them or pay the price, whatever that may be.  I have to discover and, maybe one day, learn to love cheese-less pizza and coconut milk ice cream.  My son, who has been homeschooled since first grade, has to learn how to thrive in an online college classroom.  My daughter, whose friends are beginning to branch off with their significant others, has to find a way to meet new people, while maintaining her current friendships.  My husband, who is starting a new company at age 50, is discovering how to balance his current job, the new business and his many relationships with friends and family.  Even our little old dog, Piggy, who recently broke off several teeth, including the last of her canines, will have to learn to chew in the back.

I guess my point is that life is always changing, and always will change, no matter how much we want to stay in our comfort zones.  Kids grow up and move, aging parents pass away, jobs change, illnesses may come, and life is never static.  The key to a happy life lies in dealing with the New Normal.  One trick I've discovered is to set a goal to make it through the next two weeks. Just survive for two weeks.  For many of life's minor changes and challenges, two weeks is enough time to set new boundaries around that comfort zone.  Obviously, major life crises may take months or even years in which to adapt. 

Sometimes, you may even be hit on multiple sides of your comfort zone at once.  It's at these times, especially, that I've found that getting into the zone with the God of all comfort, is the only place where I truly find peace when life gives me lemons.  Ultimately, He leads me to the New Normal. 

Lemonade, anyone?

 

Ember

Imagine living in a city hundreds of feet underground, and not knowing it.  You believe you understand everything about this world, that you've seen it all.  Your community is lit by a thousand lamps by day which shut off promptly each evening at bedtime.  It never rains, but is a constant somewhat chilly temperature.  There seems to be nothing more to explore, and no hope for anything better.  Nowadays, however, the lights begin to flicker a little too often and even go out completely during the day for several moments at a time.  You begin to look for a way out...

Welcome to the City of Ember.  I think the reason I enjoyed this book so much is because, living in the Northwest, we dwell in our own type of Ember.  It is gray at least ten months out of the year, even if it's not raining.  Although we despaired of having no summer this year (like last year!) it finally arrived August 1st and has continued, so far, through mid-September as I write this.   In spite of this, even on this beautiful, sunny day, I find myself dreading what is surely to come.  I begin to look for a way out...

After much research, however, I discover that Phoenix is too hot, Florida is too humid, San Diego is too expensive and Eastern Washington is too far from my kids (they refuse to move there!)  So, the answer seems to be to settle in with my little blue light this fall (and winter, and spring and early summer...) and just deal with it. 

Recently, though, I've had the metaphor expanded for me even further.  The Pacific Northwest really isn't Ember; this world is. Tsunamis and earthquakes, tornadoes and hurricanes, bank failures and financial crises around the world are occuring with more and more frequency.  The lights are flickering. 

 Thankfully, the One who created this Ember has provided The Way out, and all who choose to follow will one day journey higher. For now, I strain to see past the flickering lights, constantly seeking the one true Spark that will lead us home.