Does It Matter?

"It doesn't matter."

How many times have I said that to myself when dealing with a painful situation? It's as though I minimize what was said or done simply so that I can make myself move forward in strength and maintain some sort of dignity in the process. Really, more than dignity, I want my power back.

In a way, saying "it doesn't matter" is like saying that the person(s) who hurt me don't matter enough in my personal world to be able to get to me ever again. It's a way of hardening the heart and devaluing the other, so that I have a kind of power over them inasmuch as it removes from them the ability to approach my heart.

Never again will the arrows of their words penetrate the armor I've placed around my heart. I will immerse my inner being in kevlar. I will make myself bulletproof. Becaues I have made myself bulletproof, it doesn't matter what is said or done by anyone else. They can't get to me ever again.

 That's the thinking. It may not even be conscious thinking, but that's what's going on internally.  And I am fairly certain that I'm not the only person who has this sort of self-talk.  I daresay there are many of us who chant the "it doesn't matter" refrain in the hopes of eliminating heartache.

Reality is that it does matter. They do matter. If that were not the case then we wouldn't hurt.

Eldredge has this to say:

We must forgive those who hurt us. The reason is simple: Bitterness and unforgiveness are claws that set their hooks deep in our hearts; they are chains that keep us held captive to the wounds and the messages of those wounds. Until you forgive, you remain their prisoner. Paul warns us that unforgiveness and bitterness can wreck our lives and the lives of others (Eph. 4:31; Heb. 12:15). We have to let them go.

Forgive as Christ has forgiven you. (Col 3:13)

Now - listen carefully. Forgiveness is a choice. It is not a feeling - don't try and feel forgiving. It is an act of the will. "Don't wait to forgive until you feel like forgiving," wrote Neil Anderson. "You will never get there. Feelings take time to heal after the choice to forgive is made . . ." We allow God to bring the hurt up from our past, for "if your forgiveness doesn't visit the emotional core of your life, it will be incomplete." We acknowledge that it hurt, that it mattered, and we choose to extend forgiveness to our father, our mother, those who hurt us. This is not saying, "It didn't really matter"; it is not saying, "I probably deserved part of it anyway." Forgiveness says, "It was wrong. Very wrong. It mattered, hurt me deeply. And I release you. I give you to God."  (Captivating, 102-103)

Do you see what he said?  "It was wrong. Very wrong. It mattered, hurt me deeply."

What difference would it make in our lives if we actually believed that? If we actually believed that our hurts, our heartaches, matter? Not just because we feel them but because of something else.  Something that speaks of value. My value. Your value. Their value.

Because there is something true there, too...

Nature Girl Makes An Appearance

This past weekend I "car camped" for the first time out on the property of a friend's parents. I'm fairly unknowledgeable about camping, so the best I can figure out is that the difference between "car camping" and "camping" is the distance you drive in relation to the distance you walk/hike and haul gear.  I think, and I could be wrong here, that "car camping" means you don't have to hike and haul gear far from where you park.

We did all the fun camping things - bon fire, s'mores, music.  It was a special occasion for me, so I bought a tent and a sleeping bag and let my inner nature girl show up.  She hasn't been out since...well, I don't remember how long it has been.  I think, actually, this was a first.

I enjoyed the experience, even though I didn't sleep more than a couple of hours that night, and would like to do it again.  I'm grateful that I got to experience this with such a cool group of people.   

Here is a picture of everyone who camped:

 

An Experience

My friend Karin has been asking me to blog about an experience I had recently. She was there when it happened and, I suppose, wants my perspective on it.


I am still processing through what happened that evening in Cedar Hill. I'm not going to lie and say it's all "Oooh! Aaah! Wow!" because that's a land I might visit but I've never learned to comfortably homestead there.


As part of my processing, I emailed my friend Brian and asked if he'd help me by picking my brain. Uber-busy dude that he is, he indicated he had a short window of opportunity for us to talk (to me, 30-minutes is short) so I emailed him with what I remembered from that evening.


I included my own deeply internal responses/reactions to what was happening at the time, many of which do not make me happy because they're indicative of some still existing brokenness and trust issues. If you've read previous posts on my blog, then you know that I've trod some pretty dark territory.


Having said all of that, here is a slightly modified version of the email I sent to Brian:


Let me preface the following with this: I have a pretty vivid imagination so I doubt, a lot, when stuff like this happens to me. It could just be wishful thinking, or stepping back into living in my imagination (which I did as a kid as a survival mechanism). I don't doubt that God speaks to people, and that He tells them wonderful things or shows them wonderful things about themselves. I doubt that He does that with me. That's my damage showing up. Stuff for someone else, that's business and usually fairly easy to do. Stuff for me, that's personal and another matter entirely.


So...


Thursday night the only thing that showed up for me was a really, REALLY powerful longing to go home. To just be somewhere other than this life, somewhere that love and warmth and laughter and goodness and all of those things that have been a void in my life, or an illusion, are real and solid and true. JESUS! I! WANT! TO!COME! HOME! Please...please, can I come home?


Notched that down really quickly, paid attention to Benny Perez, and got to see God electrify Renee. Posted that on FB, drove home, texted you and talked to Annette about what happened with Renee.


Friday, I had already decided I needed to be there but when Karin called me and told me that Jake Hamilton (who she and Renee had mentioned to me the previous evening as someone they knew I'd really like) was going to be leading worship I made a point of being there. We were on the front row, at the steps to the stage. I got to let loose my inner rocker chick with some yelling wide-stanced fist pumping action. It was awesome!!!


Then...


The song was about being on our faces before God and asking for His glory to come down. I knelt at the steps, face down and palms up, and sang and prayed - English and tongues - with tears starting and I had a vision. I saw the hem of His robe and his feet right before my eyes. I thought I was imagining things, shook my head and opened my eyes. Then back to having my eyes closed in prayer. Cut to black. Then, again, the hem of His robe and his feet right there. He leaned down and put his hand on my head and said, "stand up."


I stood.


Hands up, eyes closed, still singing about God's glory. Slightly rocking from side to side. I had the sense that I needed to wash my face - not literally, but symbolically - as though there were a waterfall and I let it stream into my cupped hands and poured the water from my hands over my face. So that's what I did, then back to palms up in worship. Someone put a hand on my shoulder (found out later it was Karin) . Then Tracy wrapped her arms around me, crying (I think). Then Renee joined this embrace and I could hear her say how God delights in my heart (which I had/have a hard time receiving because nobody delights in my heart, ever).


I'm unsure of the order that things happened at this point.


I would swear that Jake Hamilton started singing prophetically and that he was singing prophetically to me. There's a lot that was in what he sang that's just out of reach of what I recall.


But I definitely recall hearing "you don't have to protect yourself anymore."


I don't know whether that happened before or after the next vision. I want to say after.


So...back to the scene of me held by Tracy and Renee...


I see a desert sunrise, and the silhouette of man - Jesus - striding across the desert. The colors are white and amber and gold, so rich and shimmering, and the stride is focused and intentional. I shake my head, because I do have a vivid imagination. Cut to black. Then the vision again. A huge desert sun rising, waves of white and gold and amber shimmering in a lightening sky, Jesus in silhouette striding toward me. I think I hear, "I'm coming for you," but I'm not sure because nobody comes for me, nobody pursues me, ever. Such a thing is unheard of in all creation - that someone would come for me.

I have three almost simultaneous responses to this: 1) "Bring it. Do your worst," 2) "Crap. This is going to hurt," and 3) "Yipes!" because I don't know what it means and it's hard for me to accept how it could be anything other than painful. I'm not happy with myself for these responses. I don't like that they're there.


When I hear "you don't have to protect yourself anymore" something inside broke and I had a moment of heaving sobs. Only a moment, though.


Then everything eases, Tracy and Renee step back, the set is over and I turn to discover two boys - one is about 10 and the other about 13 - right behind me, crying, and Tracy and Renee and Karin pray over them and call out their gifts and calling in God. I joined in the prayer, but wondered about them because they were right there. Karin told me later they'd been praying for me, too.


So, we sit and listen to Banning Liebscher talk about having sustained passion for Christ. He talks about how it's become about having information and says that in order for us to have that sustained fire we need revelation. We need revelation that He loves us first so that we can respond by loving Him back. This really speaks to me because I have a lot of information - I've worked for God for 20 years, and my relationship had become almost strictly business. What I've lacked is the revelation that makes it personal. So this message is for me as much as any message is for one person. After he talks he gives an altar call and I go forward.


At the front, by the steps, again...


I feel the power of the Spirit come down. Tracy, who is standing next to me, goes down. The Spirit hovers over me. I feel the potential to go down, but He asks if this is what I want. I was surprised by the question and asked Him and myself, "do I?" only to find that I didn't. I don't need the dramatic experience to show me that it's real. I've had that. Been there on more than one occasion. What my heart is starved for is the warmth. I tell Him that I want warmth. I want the warm embrace. I want what I've never had. At least what I don't remember ever having. I feel this sense of "Aaaahhh..." come over me. Like how I would imagine it feels to lean into someone and just rest against that person. I don't know for sure, though. I don't have the real world experiences that allow me to connect the dots. I don't know, not really, what it's like to be held - safely, with strength and goodness, by someone I can just lean into. I've been embraced with the mutual comfort type of embrace. I know what that's like. But I don't know what it's like to actually lean into someone strong and safe, whose heart is genuinely for me and whose love is real. So, I can only guess at what it feels like.


Then that lifts and I turn my attention to standing guard over Tracy because she's still on the ground, surrounded by people who almost step on her, until she sits up and gets to her feet. Everything normalizes.


That's my experience.


I'm still processing it. I have a lot of questions - mostly variations of "Why?" and "What does it mean?" because, truth be told, I don't get it. I mean, I get that the experience was real and something I obviously needed, but I don't necessarily see the point. That's one of the "Why?" questions.


And maybe, just maybe, I'm trying to wrap my head around something that's supposed to be understood at the heart level.


That's another question in itself...


7/2/2010 - NOTE: As I've pondered this experience, in particular the sunrise vision of Jesus coming for me, a particular scripture has appeared on my radar. Malachi 4:2. It says: “But for you who fear my name, the Sun of Righteousness will rise with healing in his wings. And you will go free, leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture."

I can't help but think there might be a connection...

mYgeneration - a review in progress...

A while back my friend Dave asked me to read and blog about book called mY Generation by a friend of his named Josh Riebock. Being a bit of a book addict, I happily agreed and put it very, very near the top of the stack of books I have waiting to be read. I read a LOT - for work and pleasure - so the stack is rather tall.

Originally my plan was to read the whole book and then blog about what I thought, overall, as a book review. I'm going to discard that idea.

You see, I started reading mY Generation and realize that this isn't a book one reads and analyzes. This is the sort of book that is story, which means that it's to be experienced and processed over time. All of this from having read two chapters.

Here, I'll show you what I mean...

It was Thursday evening around five o'clock, and I was in the parking lot of T.G.I.Friday's. That's that restaurant with the candy-striped awning, the sesame jack chicken strips, and the wait staff that wears pieces of flair. Justin pulled in a few seconds later in a small black car. But before that, it was Wednesday and I was at a bar, and a church service.

It sounds confusing, but it's not. It was a church service being held in a bar. That's where Justin and I met.

He's a filmmaker and has cool tattos, so I was drawn to him pretty quickly, even if it was for superficial reasons. We hit it off, and after a brief conversation, decided to get together the following week, but that stirred all kinds of anxiety in me.

I'm not an overly social person to begin with, but I find the maiden voyage of hanging out with someone, anyone, borderline insufferable. The chances of me feeling and acting both distant and awkward are very good. To avoid the slightest dash of silence, I usually talk too much, often rambling about topics of no particular significance, and I can carry on that way for months.

That's part of why it takes me so long to make lasting friendships, because I resist intimacy like the plague. I distance myself. I push people away. I keep things impersonal, which, sadly, is the way I like it.

On the Monday following the church service, my pone rang.

"Josh?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Hey man, it's Justin."
"Oh, hey, bro." (I always call people bro when I'm uncomfortable.)
"What's going on? What are you doing?" he asked.
"Nothing much, bro" (see, I did it again right there), "what about you?"
"Not too much. I was just calling to see if you could hang out sometime this week."

My chest tightened immediately. I guess I was hoping that he was merely being polite, saying that we would get together, but obviously he wasn't. Obviously, he meant it. Wanting out time together to be as nonthreatening as possible, I said, "Yeah. That'd be great. You want to grab a beer or something?"

That seemed safe enough. Lots of people. Plenty of noise. We could even sit on stools facing a wall instead of each other. What could possibly be safer than that? It seemed great, but Justin extinguished that idea.

"No, let's not do that. I'll tell you what, Josh. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything. Does Thursday, like around five, work for you?"

"Uh, yeah, bro," I said.

"Okay, well, let's plan on Thursday at around five o'clock. You just meet me at the T.G.I.Friday's parking lot and I"ll take care of the rest...And Josh," Justin continued, "make sure you wear a rugged pair of shoes and a pair of shorts that you don't mind getting dirty."

I hung up the phone, reflected on one of the strangest conversations I'd ever had, and pretty much became a wreck.

What have I gotten myself into? Why does this weirdo want me to wear rugged shoes? Where the heck is he taking me? Maybe I'm going to be hunted for sport.

Oh God! It's like that movie Deliverance! I think I hear that eerie banjo music now...

Maybe his name isn't even Justin...

Yeah, I was a wreck. Confused. Curious. A little freaked out. Paranoid. Bearing a deep sense of regret that I'd answered my phone at all. A wreck. And I was that way for the next few days, but I still went, and that's how I ended up in the T.G.I.Friday's parking lot on that Thursday.

I stood next to my car, shifting my weight back and forth, and biting my nails practically down to the bone. Then Justin pulled into the parking lot. I opened the passenger-side door of his small black car, sat down, fastened my seat belt, and he began driving.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.
"You'll see," Justin said with a sly smile.
"Okay."
"This is really killing you, isn't it? Ha, that's great."

Eventually, we moved out onto a stretch of scenic highway and, shortly after, Justin pulled into a lot at the base of a range of rocky cliffs, overlooking a lake.

"We're here," he said. "Come on."

He shut off the engine and got out of the car. I went with him as we walked toward a small hiking trail. Over the next fifteen minutes or so, we stepped up the side of the cliff, over stones and through the trees, finally settling at a lookout point with miles of visibility in either direction.

"I figured I could have a beer with anyone," Justin said between heavy breaths. "But, and I hope this isn't weird, I really want to get to know you, to talk to you about deeper stuff, to hear what's really going on in your heart. I guess I really want to be friends, and I think this is a great place to do that."

I didn't know what to say. I was caught off guard, and apprehensive too, and yet, I was incredibly moved. I couldn't think of another time in my life when anyone had done that for me, when I mattered more to someone than what was considered normal, when someone was willing to ignore what I was comfortable with, in order to really love me. It was one of the most loving things anyone's ever done for me.

I guess you could say that what Justin did for me reminded me of what Jesus did for so many others -- he refused to let expectations and what was considered normal get in the way of love.

"Thanks a lot, man. I'd really like that," I said.

I won't soon forget the hours that Justin and I spent on that cliff, talking about our wives, our childhoods, and God. Today, Justin is so much more than an acquaintance to me; he's a great friend, a friend of depth and intimacy, and that occasion started it all.

Do you see what I mean? This story powerfully hit some deep places in my heart.

How many times have you wanted to be brave like Justin, to just push past all the barriers that someone erects and get to know the real person?

How many times have you wanted to be chosen like Josh, to have someone disregard all the niceties in order to truly know you?

I know I've wanted to be both. I know I still do.

Consider this to be my first installment on mY Generation...

Unforgotten

I haven't forgotten you, my faithful readers.

My brain has been going in several directions at once, which is a bit dizzying, so I don't really have a coherent post to share as yet.

In the meantime, there are three scriptures that I have in my face on a daily basis (because I've taped them to my computer monitor). I'm endeavoring to hold onto them and somehow get them to gap the Great Divide between my head and my heart.

They are:

Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."

Isaiah 62:4 - Never again will you be called "The Forsaken City" or "The Desolate Land." Your new name will be "The City of God's Delight" and "The Bride of God" for the LORD delights in you and will claim you as his bride.

Habbakuk 2:3 - For the vision is yet for the appointed time; it hastens toward the goal and it will not fail. Though it tarries, wait for it; for it will certainly come, it will not delay.


Do you have any scriptures on which you are focusing in the hope that they will become alive to your heart? If so, what are they?

Random Thoughts

It has been said that nature abhors a vacume. It seems to me that the spiritual life operates similarly - we will worship something, if only ourselves.

What vacume is showing up in your life?
What are you filling it with?


I had an interesting discussion with someone today. During the course of that conversation I found myself saying, "I can be the bad guy. I don't like it but I'll do it if I have to." I've done it often enough... If I'm honest I'll admit that it's disheartening to still find myself in places where I have to say that. It's not who I want to be.

What is it saying when a woman has to "man up" and be strong?


Even though several months have passed since recognizing that I have had a passive death wish since I was a really little girl, which consistently whispered to my heart that life isn't worth living, there are times when it's still a huge struggle. I so often feel like a hypocrite. Embracing life feels like such a lie sometimes. Who do I think I am to want these things, much less actually try to experience them? Better to just give up. I'm not "that" girl...never have been.

When does it become real?


I've worked for a Christian organization for 20 years. There's a question that has recently been showing up for me...

What happens to the Kingdom when Kingdom business becomes a business?

Oh...

I wanna know what love is. I want you to show me. (Foreigner)

Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)

For the last few months I've been asking God to cause me to delight in Him.

You see, I forgot what it's like. I forgot what it felt like to deeply delight in something or someone. I've had brief moments, lightning quick, of delight but nothing that felt truly life-giving or sustainable.

I think I know the desires of my heart, but there's been doubt there, too.

And I've been so tired.

My inner land has felt so desolate.

I have seen myself as barren.

Hollow...

Empty...

Forgotten...

But I didn't really know those things were the underpinnings of my heart's life. A couple of conversations helped me do more than intellectually acknowledge the condition of my heart.

Ideationally, I got it. I have theoretically understood love and, by extension, delight. Otherwise, I genuinely saw and knew, deeply knew, that I had forgotten delight. I couldn't recognize the experience of love, and of being loved.

Instead of trying to make myself remember, which would be my wont, I took it to God.

"Please, God, cause me to delight in You. I can't, unless You do this. I don't have it in me. I don't know how. I can't even fake it. So, God, please cause me to delight in You."

I haven't noticed a difference but others have.

"Your countenance is lighter."

"Makeup covers a multitude of ills..."

"Makeup can't make you smile more."

"Oh..."

But I have still felt barren. And desolate. And forgotten.

And I've been crying. A lot...

So I started asking God to make Isaiah 62:4 true for me. I need it actualized. More than intellectually seen and known to be true and more than some sort of transitory feeling, I want and need it made experientially real.

Because, you see, I am keenly aware that being deeply loved is something with which I have little experiential reality. I haven't known what it's really like.

This past weekend was Easter. I drove to Austin to spend the weekend with the people who, somehow, have become my True Family.

I noticed something over the weekend...

I felt warmth.

Noticed...

Wanted...

Welcomed...

Received...

Embraced...

Not for anything I could do, but for just being.

For just being...me...

Never again will you be called The Forsaken or The Desolate. Your new name will be God's Delight and The Bride of God, for the LORD delights in you and will claim you as His Bride. (Isaiah 62:4)

I felt loved.

Underneath that, delight...

Delight in God and His creation...

Oh.

So this is what it's like.

Beloved

Every time I hear this song I break out into tears, with breath stealing sobs. I'm not quite sure what's up with that...

What stirs in you?

Chained Glory

I wrote this a few years ago, after freelancing as a researcher and grip for a television program produced by a friend of mine. Earlier this week I rediscovered it as I was searching for something entirely different in a folder. It took me back to a place where I saw heartbreaking cruelty meet sacrificial love in a way that I will never forget.

Recently I had the privilege of visiting a big cat sanctuary. There are more than 30 tigers, lions, cougars, and other felines housed at this particular refuge. Each animal has his or her own story, most of them sad. A cougar’s former owner had tried to de-claw the cat using improper measures, a cruel act necessitating post-rescue corrective surgery. Another had her front teeth removed, which means she can’t eat the meat that is the staple of her kind. A lynx is missing an eye. More than one of the animals had been rescued from people who kept them trapped in small, filthy enclosures. All of the cats’ original owners believed they cared about these animals, but their actions proved otherwise.

As disheartening as their stories are to hear, the good thing is that these beautiful cats are now in the care of a wonderful couple who loves them all dearly. The volunteers who work with them put in long hours each day to provide for every animal there, not only in terms of food and medical care, but also with interaction and room to play. It takes a lot of love and sacrifice, daily, but each person there believes that the payoff is worth the risks. The goal is to help these animals thrive as much as possible, particularly since they will never be able to live in the freedom they were created to enjoy.

Like these amazing animals, there are those amongst us who spent their formative years imprisoned in dysfunctional and abusive environments. The hardest kind of abuse to overcome is that which is perpetrated by someone who says “I love you” but whose behavior contradicts those three special words. Whether the abuse is physical, mental, or emotional, its victims can spend the rest of their days in captivity. They too need a sanctuary, a place in which they are cared for and can heal. The comparison ends here, though, because big cats aren’t people. Animals don’t have the higher reasoning to recognize that they’re not truly living in freedom. These cats couldn’t survive in the wild even if they wanted to.

People were created in the image of God. Every individual bears the mark of His glory in his or her person. Unfortunately, as a result of the fall that glory has been chained. All of us, in one way or another, have been taken captive. Sometimes we become so accustomed to our captivity we don’t realize we’re imprisoned. We think it is natural to us, but we are mistaken.

Jesus came to provide new natures for all of us. His declaration about His ministry is one of freedom to the captives, sight to the blind, healing to the crippled. There are different kinds of cripples, just as there are different kinds of blindness. The healing that Jesus offers is for the internal cripple as much as it is the external cripple. It’s for the blinded heart as well as the blinded eye.

There are many claims that Jesus makes about Himself. He describes Himself as our Good Shepherd. He is our Great Physician, come to heal the sick and wounded. He provides us with the only water that unceasingly quenches our thirst. Ultimately, all the descriptions are summed up in one beautiful word – Savior. He saves us from our sin. He delivers us from the pits we fall into. He breaks the chains that hold us captive, cleans us up, binds our wounds and sets us on our way. He fills us with His Spirit, and pours His life out through us. He is our fortress and sanctuary, when we run to Him we are safe. Unlike our furry friends at the big cat sanctuary, since He is in and with us, we can thrive in the wild because what comes with us is everything we need. As we daily turn to Him, we find that He is there right alongside us.

Firsts

I turned 44-years old on January 20th. I've heard, more times than I can count, people express astonishment when they find out that I passed the mid-thirty mark almost ten years ago. Actually, it's pretty funny to see the looks I get but I know in my bones - I'm not that young any more. The clock does have a say and there are some things in life that, once the time has passed, it's simply too late. That's just the human condition.

Be that as it may, age doesn't preclude firsts. My birthday week was bookended by a couple of personal firsts.

I got to go sledding for the first time during a long weekend with friends who live in the Wheaton area of Illinois. Unlike Texas, the residents of Illinois experience real winters. There was snow on the ground. Quite a bit, I thought. My friend Wendy, who hadn't been sledding in years, took the opportunity presented by my presence to reconnect with that aspect of her own inner child. Wendy's housemate, Jane, hadn't been sledding before either. Both Jane and I enjoyed the experience immensely, though I suspect Jane's little dog decided pretty quickly that one trip down the slopes while sitting on a plastic disc was more than enough.

I screamed and laughed like a little girl each time I went down the bunny slopes, which were within walking distance of Jane's and Wendy's house. I hope to go sledding again someday. The next time, though, I will wear boots that provide good traction.

The other first I experienced was leading the organic home church to which I belong in an evening's discussion and activity. I've never led anything. Really, I prefer to shun the spotlight. I get in a crowd of people and feel overwhelmed. I don't often say much when the group is gathered together as a whole. We can have anywhere from 15 to 30 people on any given weekend. I may join a conversation or two, and I can be quite opinionated if I'm passionate about something, but otherwise I'm shy and reserved.

The weekend I led the group there were, I believe, 23 people gathered together. That's twenty-something pairs of eyes looking at me while I directed the group toward the goal we hoped to accomplish that evening - a goal which had sprung from my heart. Have I mentioned that I'd rather shun the spotlight and hadn't ever led anything before? I had help that evening, co-leaders for whom I will always be grateful, but the bulk of leading that evening's discussion fell on my shoulders.

I struggled with thoughts of "oh crap, what have I gotten myself into?" and feelings of unease but I managed to put those aside and stay focused on what everyone needed from me. And it all turned out fine.

Recently I was told, "It's time." I am not quite sure what to do with that but I'm sure it includes more firsts for me.

Theme for 2010

With the start of a new year there's this push to anticipate the future and work toward transformation in the form of resolutions or vision maps. Some people have discussed the idea of choosing a theme for their year.

I decided I like the idea of having a theme word for 2010. Something to hold in my heart as an area where, hopefully, my life's landscape is nurtured.

Here is the word I settled on:

communion [kəˈmjuːnjən]
n
1. an exchange of thoughts, emotions, etc.
2. possession or sharing in common; participation
3. (foll by with) strong emotional or spiritual feelings (for) communion with nature
4. (Christianity / Ecclesiastical Terms) a religious group or denomination having a common body of beliefs, doctrines, and practices
5. (Christianity / Ecclesiastical Terms) the spiritual union held by Christians to exist between individual Christians and Christ, their Church, or their fellow Christians
[from Latin commūniō general participation, from commūnis common]