Letting Go - Hope with Open Hands

So, I now have someone else checking this blog on a very regular basis who has started pointing out to me whenever I don't have a recent post. I'm pretty sure this is good for me but you never know what will show up on here. They will soon learn this. :o) Still, thank you for giving me a good gentle kick when I need it and I have needed it. I'm sure there are many who read this blog who would like to thank you for giving me that constant push as well.

For the last few days as I have flipped through my closet, I have seen many things I could be parting with pretty easily. For someone who doesn't like clutter, there are some material things in my life I have a hard time getting rid of. Though this has become much easier for me in recent years, I have still held onto some things to remember where I've been; it's like focusing on the stars in the night. A mentor once told me years ago that as I work through the past, I will have hope for the future. These were such true and wise words and I have applied them to so many aspects of my life. Today I applied them to clothes.

You see, it can be really hard for me to let things go when they remind me of positive moments and treasured times. But I have come to think that if we keep accumulating these trinkets, they will cause us to look back at the good times we've had so often, we will forget there are good times ahead. We will start focusing on the past and forget to live in the present. One of the things I have been learning is to let the past live in the past, that I can simply say goodbye and turn the corner, let it go and leave it behind. Now, you cannot say goodbye to something you do not know but once you have fully faced what you fear and dealt with it, you walk through the fear and leave it behind. This is not to say there aren't things that will come up again from your past that you need to deal with, but that it no longer has any hold over you. All your past can put in your way is fear and that is a choice up to you. In the midst of the fear, we hold onto things we think will anchor us but in the end, they are just things we never look at and never use. They need to go. If they go, if we stop holding onto them, we will realize there is nothing to be afraid of, that there was no reason to hold onto them in the first place. What is more, what we were holding onto was keeping us from receiving what God is always holding out for us: a joyful present and a hopeful future.

I've always wanted a closet of clothes that has a fraction of what has been hanging there because after all, a fraction is what I actually wear, and gradually, I've been getting rid of things. I tend to keep clothes and wear them until I shouldn't and then hold onto them for a "little" longer for the memories. But today, I decided to really do it. While deciding what to wear, I started taking things out and being harder on myself about this than I've ever been. I feel like I've peeled off a major onion layer on letting things go. I now have a huge pile of clothes to bag up and deliver to a charity. (Any suggestions?) I am sure there is quite a bit more I could get rid of so I will be going through it all again but I have to say, I am pretty proud of myself for doing it. And, just like that classic wisdom says that can be so hard to put into practice, I feel so much lighter for having done it. Now I'm looking around and thinking of what else I could get rid of that made it through my last round of cleaning out. So much of our lives in the American culture is taken up with managing our material goods. What if we had less? What could we devote that time to instead? For my part, I would much rather be out with people I care about, having fun, talking, hanging out, just being together. I would rather devote my time to people instead of things, they are by far, longer lasting.

My younger sister is fantastic at this. She doesn't keep things for emotional reasons. It's not her "mode of operation" and I admire her for this. Her apartment is home yet simple and I like that. I want to have that quality marking my own life. After getting back from visiting her in Milwaukee last year, I went on a cleaning binge but I am far more ready to let the past go and look toward the future than I have ever been before. I think she may be proud of me. (After she shakes her head in wonderment of why it has taken me so long to get this.)

There are things I will always treasure and want to keep: my Samantha doll and her things, my baby trunk, rocking chair, and doll cradle, my mother's wedding dress, and the dress I wore in her second wedding at age four, these are treasures of mine. I also kept a shirt and fleece that belonged to my grandfather in the care home. When he died, my mother and grandmother gave these to me so I could have something physical to wrap up in and remember him with. But aside from things like these, I find each time I am willing to get rid of a layer, another layer is far easier to let go of. And each part of me that is made new, I can leave behind the old. It feels really good!

Here's cheers to the new day and a lighter closet.

Train Conductor God

As I write this, I'm sitting at the bar facing the windows of my favorite coffee shop. I love the open feel of the place, the light streaming in from the street, the white and wood detail with the little cream colored lights trailing around the banister of the upper level of tables. It's a peaceful place and they never bother you if you are here and haven't bought anything. For someone like me who can't afford to buy a drink every time I come in, it's a definite "selling" point. Outside the rain is falling and people are making their way here and there, maybe shopping for a new pair of red shoes, searching for a good Thai restaurant, or, like me, merely needing to be out in community without actually talking to anyone. It all puts me in a reflective train of thought. Where the train is going I cannot say; I just know I'm on it.

This train has been in my life for a while now. I call it the train of change and God is the train conductor. I know I'm on the train, I know it's chugging along the tracks, but I have little idea as to where it's headed. It's a hard place to live in - the unknown. There are more questions than answers and I have no reply to those who ask them. But being on the train, not having the answers, is sure making me ask a lot more questions, ones I have not been willing to ask or to consider answers I would have never believed to be true. It's a scary train to be riding on for this journey is made up of nothing but trust.

During the ride, we learn a new paradox as we realize all at the same time how much power we hold in our lives and how little control we possess. We learn of the power we hold to make our own choices and are at the same time surprised when the winds of change blow through our lives whether or not we have invited them in. We are simply left with the question of which wind shall we sail into? It has been said that destinations are where we begin again and isn't that so true? We think we have reached the end of a journey and instead of returning, which you can never really do after a journey, we begin a new one. We are are asked to reboard the train. We dedicate our lives to one thing and then find it falling through our fingers only leaving a trace of memory with the whispered inquiry, "Now what?"

Throughout our lives, things change; we change, sometimes without warning. Our lives change. The question I'm asking now and the question I find so many of us asking, is what are our lives changing into? What is the new normal? (But believe me, as soon as we get comfortable with the new normal, things will change again.) Our lives are not meant to be static, they are meant to change. A plant cannot stay in the same pot , a river does not stay stagnantly in a pool. The plant grows, stretching out its roots, and the river changes its course, it alters the environment in which it passes and flows on to new places. We are much the same. However much I hate to admit it, I like change and I don't like change. Change appeals to me when I'm tired of the ruts yet it's really hard to let some of those ruts go. Sometimes I hold onto the ruts because I see them as a rock to hold onto, something that won't change. They are my security. But then a couple of weeks ago, God asked me if I love the ruts and the rocks more than I love him. Ouch. That question hit home. Do I trust in the security of relationships and place more than I trust in God's love and desire for me to grow and learn? Do I want the lights in my life more than I want to be a light?

So I sit on the train with all these unknowns, trying to enjoy their company but really struggling with having them around as traveling companions. They aren't the comforting or even kind companions I would have picked given the choice, but the selection wasn't mine. We never know who and where our growth will come from, we never know where the train will go. Whether to get on the train or not was the choice God gave me. Do I preserve my security and stifle my growth and the light I could be or do I let go of my grip and free-fall into the arms I know are waiting for me somewhere down below? As many times as God has caught me before, I am still nervous about where the train is going. I want a ticket with where we're headed and a map so I can follow along on the way. But that is not the choice God gives us with change. He stands by the steps to the train inviting us to board. He asks for our trust, probably because we would not be ready for the answer yet. But to get there, we have to get on the train without knowing which direction we're going. It is one of the most courageous things we do. Yet somehow I believe it is always worth it in the end. When God himself is the conductor, what else could it be? He respects us. He loves us. He knows exactly how to help us get where we need to go. The train of change is a good place to be.



I love the meaning in this song.

Breaking the Limits - Beyond

This weekend I learned first-hand that I can do far more than I ever thought I could. Finding this out was very freeing and opened my eyes to a new whole world of possibilities, not anything specific, but a general question of, "What can I now do I didn't think I could before?" Limits were removed, labels fell away, and I saw myself anew.

Sunday afternoon I joined my roommate and her young adult group on a trip to Glen Eden Beach, south of Lincoln City. While people unloaded their bags around our chosen spot, I took my camera down to the shore to take pictures. I love photography. It is much like poetry. In both, you bring people's attention to beauty they might have missed. When I was satiated with that, I walked back up and joined a frisbee game a couple of people had going. I also love frisbee. It is so much fun! We were tossing it back and forth in a large circle which included a very skilled stranger who had joined us in the fun. Then someone came up with the bright idea of altering the game to ultimate frisbee. Ultimate frisbee, for those of you who don't know, is similar to football in that you want to get the frisbee to your team's goal. Like in basketball, you can only take two and a half steps until you have to throw to a teammate. There is no tackling.

Let me paint another picture for you. Me in the ninth grade. Actually, this probably goes for anytime from fifth grade on. I was not sports inclined- to say the least. I had low self-confidence which was convenient as it matched my low place on the social totem pole. I was the one slowing walking back and forth along the basketball court trailing behind the kids zipping back and forth. I did this because I had to, but I hated it. My mind was usually somewhere far away.

Slowly over the years, my youth group's softball games helped, I have become much more comfortable getting in the middle of a game and having fun doing it. Still, running up and down a HUGE field of sand did give me a half a moment of pause. But that was it. I hardly even noticed it, I just thought, "Fun!" This thought alone surprised me later when I realized how much I'd grown. But that wasn't the end of it. Soon after the game started, I helped my team of three get a goal. I was so excited! Then after a lot of running up and down the field, we were a little tired by this time, the other team got a goal. We were now tied. I then found myself near the goal racing to catch the white frisbee above me. Not only did I catch it, but when I caught it, I was within the two and a half steps of the goal. I leaped across the goal line and commenced jumped up and down wildly, shouting the whole time. A little thing for another person, a HUGE thing for me. I made a goal. Me! No longer am I inept at sports, but I can do it! Not only can I make the goal. But I can make the winning goal! I am that cool, I can play sports and love doing it! Bring it on!

The other thing I learned this weekend was not to underestimate the mountains I can climb. In this case, literally. My two friends, Sean and Julie, and I do a lot of hiking together. Yesterday was our first one of the season and our chosen path led up to Angel's Rest in the Columbia Gorge. The guidebook said it was a 1,400 feet ascent in 2.3 miles and then you backtrack that for the way down. That's a lot and I was nervouse. I had a dress rehearsal for a dance show the next day and didn't want to dance for two and a half hours on sore legs. But let me tell you, the climb wasn't that hard and it was worth it. Step by step, joy by joy, we walked the trail and enjoyed the magnificent view at the top. It would not have been my first choice to start the season with. I would have started with something simpler, not so challenging. But now I'm glad we started with this one because for the rest of the season, I'll look at the more challenging hikes and think, "No problem! We can do that!" We broke the my self-contained limits first thing out of the gate. It will make a difference for the rest of the year.

I don't tell you this just to share a neat adventure, though it was. These were limits I had placed on myself, which for me, also represents limits I put on myself in my life. Making that goal and climbing that viewpoint showed me the person I really am, the one God sees fully, who is so much bigger than who I see myself to be. I am sure this is true for all of us. We put so many limits on ourselves, even backed up with previous history. But don't let your past limit who you become now and in the future. You can still do things you never thought you could.