It Feels Good to Feel Good!

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I’ve been feeling gradually more light and happy the last few weeks. Nothing has changed in my routine, I haven’t gotten any news in my work or personal life, but there’s joy humming in the background of every day. It feels like I’m getting my old self back, from this new personality where things were all so heavy. In the last couple of years I’ve been dealing with job stresses, multiple moves and relationship transitions. Together they were bogging me down and I had to fight to feel happy, to have peace. There has been a lot of learning – about outside barometers of success I didn’t realise I so thoroughly imbibed, about trusting God, about perseverance – and I knew that I was changing, I hoped for the better. In the process though the sillier parts of me slipped further away, which I don’t fault myself for, but I did remember the way I used to be and wonder if I would ever be able to access those parts of me as easily.

So what’s brought me here? And where is here? I’m wondering now as I write this. I realise this post is really introspective, but it seems like it’s only going to get more so.
What’s brought me here:
1. Time – to learn how to handle life’s difficulties, to wash over wounds.
2. Watching my mother and my uncle – I inherited my silliness from them, and they retain that part of themselves even though they’re middle aged.
3. Spiritual maturity – resting more fully in Jesus, exulting in all of his blessings and goodness toward me.

Where is here:
1. Spontaneous outbursts of joy, manifesting itself physically and verbally.
2. Laughing and smiling all the way to my toes; generally being in a good mood.
3. Not being afraid that my expressions of happiness diminish or disrespect the difficulties I am otherwise experiencing.

On Friday afternoon I visited my friend’s mum in the hospital. She’s very ill, yet in our conversation did not complain about her condition or worry about the future. She was easygoing and we talked about all kinds of things; in fact, she’s like this whenever I see her. I marvel each time at her equanimity and feel comforted and encouraged after our conversations (although I always want to be the one encouraging and giving some comfort to her). Seeing her manage her illness is influencing the way I want to handle my own struggles.

After my visit I spent the night laughing, often to tears, at the storytelling of Evelyn from the Internets. I felt so refreshed afterward, and grateful for her and the work that she’s doing. As with my mum and uncle, she reminded me that I don’t have to take myself so seriously all the time.

I am so thankful to be in this place! I want to continue down this vibrant road, becoming even stronger, and not slip back onto the now-familiar, comfortable, pale-coloured one. This is it, my life, and there’s no reason not to twirl and whoop as often as I’d like, as often as I can. I hope you’ll do the same. 🙂

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Busy Sundays Make for Hopeful Mondays

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It’s dinner time! And I’m just getting started on this post. Typically I like to write in the morning, before the day’s thoughts can crowd out the thinking space in my brain, before I am tired out from chores and To Do’s. Today, I had to work on an urgent editing project that came across my desk, and for which I am so thankful.

Now that it’s done and I have the evening to myself, I can pause and reflect on the hopefulness I feel about the task I have kind of unintentionally set for myself: self-employment. This project is a boon to my confidence, not only because I have spent so long trying to find work, but also because I live in a country where creative work is to varying degrees not considered ‘work’, thereby not worthy of payment.

I am not now assuming that henceforth everything will be peachy, but it felt so good to have a job doing something I enjoy and actually being paid for it. I can more easily envision a future where I am secure and independent, sustained by projects that are fulfilling and stimulating. One thing I’ve learned in the past two years is how much patience and perseverance I need to walk this road. I alternate between patronising smiles and head shakes at the memories of my younger, naïver, self. But hopefulness is important too! To fuel that patience and perseverance. So I am thankful for this peaceful, hopeful moment.

May the favour of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us – yes, establish the work of our hands.

~Psalm 90:17

Living With Palms Open

I always had something I could give to somebody else. I’ve been so blessed.

Grammy,  February 2017

Grammy is the OG of generosity in my book. When I was a little girl I saw countless people’s faces light up with thankfulness for a kindness she had done for them, either in that moment or at some time previously. Everyone was always so glad to see her. I watched her buy food, clothes and shoes to give away, and she could never pass up a sale because though she rarely needed anything on offer, she was sure she’d find something useful that someone else would. Her car and her time were open to others as well – we regularly picked up strangers (mostly women) we passed on the road to give them a ride to where they were going.

Now that she’s older she’s less mobile, but she still finds ways to give to others. A few years ago, when I’d regularly take her and my Grandad out on errands and to church and doctor’s appointments, I’d watch her roll up bills and surreptitiously tuck them into clerks’, priests’ and nurses’ pockets.

Grammy isn’t only generous in these smaller everyday ways either. Even more extravagant items, like a computer, a car, or a house are in her giving history. And these are just kindnesses that I know about!

Grammy lives with palms open. Everything she owns flows like a river from her hands to another’s. She grew up poor, and never had a high paying job. She never went to high school and was a government auditor for her entire career. She had to have been thrifty, and prioritise giving to others over having a more comfortable lifestyle, in order to be as generous as she has been. But as she explained in her own words, it never felt like a sacrifice.

That’s the thing that I wonder at. This generosity in my grandmother is like a gift of the Spirit. There is no hemming and hawing, or reassuring herself with the knowledge that she’ll reap greater rewards. In the conversation that I quoted from, she was telling me about the little boy in the house next door when she was newly married and living in England. His family was poor, and he would regularly stretch is arm out over the wall, hoping for a token. Grammy would oblige him with something like biscuits or candy, because, as she said, she always had something to give away.

These sidebar statements are sprinkled through all of Grammy’s conversations – she loves to  exalt the Lord and his blessings on her life, and glorifies him with continual thanksgiving. He always took care of her, she knows she can count on him, which is why she doesn’t think twice about sharing with others. I want to be as generous as my Grammy is, but to be honest it feels like more of a difficulty for me than it is for her. Generosity seems as much a part of her personality as her impish wit and love of food. It’s one of my favourite things about her, and though I may be always striving to be as open-handed as she is, I’m glad to have her as an example of the everlasting contentment that comes from a life of regular giving.

A Meditation On My Maker

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A couple of days ago I listened to a sermon on God as maker of heaven and earth. It reminded me of how big he is, how unfathomably big he must be to have created our whole earth, and galaxy, and universe, and to live above and beyond it. On the opposite side of the spectrum, I thought about the intricacies of the human body, the lives of ants and spiders, and the microscopic chemistry that keeps the whole earth – human and animal lives and the natural environment – humming. It’s incredible. Our world is made of things simultaneously greater and smaller than we can see and whose scale we can barely imagine. How is it that a being can create something as massive as our universe, and as tiny as protozoa? Dextrous though they can be, some work renders human fingers bumbling and clumsy, forcing the use of other tools. Psalm 8 – which the sermon was based on – describes God as working with his fingers. There is nothing too delicate for him; he made it all.

My life – human life – lies somewhere on the line of creation; bigger than plankton and insects but smaller than planets and galaxies. Everything I see (Tim Keller reminded me), points to God and can tell me something about Him. The heavens declare the glory of God  – how breathtaking are sunsets and natural landscapes – and so do the tiniest parts of life, like a spider’s web and fractals in leaves and coral. After a visit to the Met museum with my mum last week, she remarked on the fact that we saw countless art objects, each one unique and made by a person with esteemed artistry and skill, but every person made by God. There are people who are going to make more wonderful and amazing things who haven’t even been born yet! And our God is master over all.

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what this means, and what it tells me about God. I’m sure I’ll be thinking about it for the rest of my life. I feel at a loss for the words even to write this post. All the same, I find it so exciting to consider. On top of his other attributes, God is infinitely brilliant, the ultimate artist, and his work tells us about him in much the same way that human artists’ work tell us something about them. I will never know everything there is to know about him, even from the perspective of this physical world. Thus, I can never tire of learning about him.

Furthermore, this magnificent God, whose being and nature I can scarcely grasp, cares for me. Thinking of his grandeur in comparison to my own fleeting life makes everything I deal with, both positive and negative, seem insignificant. Yet it matters to God, and he wants a relationship with me. Not just me, all of us. He is everywhere and sees and hears everything. How is that even possible, if he is so big the universe can’t contain him? More questions.

At the heart of it all though, love. God made our beautiful home: sights that never fail to bring joy, sounds that move us to tears, smells and feelings that bring us comfort and security, both out of his love for us and to point us toward himself, who is even greater than the things we experience here. I want to continue seeking him in everything I  encounter in his creation. I am awed by his majesty, and thankful for his love.

Psalm 8 (ESV)
Lord, our Lord,

    how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory above the heavens.
    Out of the mouth of babies and infants,
you have established strength because of your foes,
    to still the enemy and the avenger.

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
    the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
    and the son of man that you care for him?

Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
    and crowned him with glory and honor.
You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
    you have put all things under his feet,
all sheep and oxen,
    and also the beasts of the field,
the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea,
    whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

Lord, our Lord,
    how majestic is your name in all the earth!