Right now I feel like a semi-genious. You know, one of those times when you've solved a problem that really should have been beyond you, but at the same time, screwed it up so badly you're going to have to do it all over again? A few months back, my boss bought a 580 gallon water tank so when we fill and drain hot tubs to test them, we don't always have to dump the water. My job was to design and build the plumbing so that using one pump, one line, and the one tank, we could both drain and fill the hot tubs. Well, it works. Turn on the pump and I can either drain or fill a tub in about 2-3 minutes (on average 400 gallons) and change from draining to filling or vice versa with the flick of two dials. Unfortunately, I've built such an airlock into the system, that the tank has to be atleast 1/3 full in order to work properly. Grrr....
In case you were wondering.... I just Googled myself a few minutes ago. I was second from the top!
Possibilities. I approach with caution, but always with much anticipation. I find myself in a state of constant hopeful expectation that God is finally going to do the miracle and lead me to my Timnath Serah. Constant hopeful expectation.... wow, that almost sounds like faith.
Waiting. I actually preached a sermon once. Twice, in fact. (Two different sermons that is). In these sermons I talked about waiting. Spiritual waiting is different from waiting in the visible world. Spiritual waiting can't be done impatiently. To be in a state of spiritual waiting, you need to learn to be content with where you're at. In other words, trusting God that He actually does have some sort of clue as to what's going on and where He's got you, and in that trust, also being content that He's got you where He wants you and that's where you should be. In order for this to be able to happen, the right focus is necessary. The right focus is not staring over your right shoulder or anything like that. The right focus is an eternal focus, keeping in mind both who and where you are. I am a child of God on my way to eternity with Him. He's all powerful, all knowing, and loves me to bits. If I can't trust Him to take care of things, the problem is with me.
So many times I've thought, "Now I've come to the end of this blasted desert! Finally, I've learned all the lessons I've been put here to learn. Any moment now and this wondering and waiting will be over." Of course such is not the case or I would not be here, now, writing under the title of "Timnath Serah
and what comes before."
"Follow the guide, not the destination." I've come to realize through this journey that both what I want and need the most is not reaching my destination (which is truly only a stopover), but rather what I want the most is simply to be lead by God. Towards or away. To the scorching sand or cool green grass, what does it matter so long as that pillar of cloud and fire is there in front of me?
The exam is done. I'm alive. Now if only work would just go away! :) Yeah, and I also wish my house was self cleaning (other than when I clean it myself). However, there is an advantage to everything. I suppose someday I'll find one.
A quote from
Mercy Street:
"We all know about prophetic speaking, but prophetic listening means listening to others in such a way that we draw out of them the seeds of their own highest understanding, of their own obedience, of their own vision, that they themselves may not have known were there. Listening can draw forth out of people things that speaking to them cannot.
~Elise Boulding
Thoughts? I'm listening :)
Oh dear. It's time. Crunch time that is. Not just crunch time;
Exam Time!! My German 117 exam is on Tuesday. It's amazing how much stuff I have to study between now and Tuesday. Absolutely amazing! It's OK now Lauren, you don't have to panic
(yet). Tomorrow I meet some people from my German class for some conversation practice. Perhaps that's the kind of stuff I should do tonight. Perhaps not. Perhaps I should simply study vocabulary. Perhaps I should listen to German tapes. Perhaps I should avoid the whole situation all together and type here all night. (Avoid! That's the spirit!) Oh dear. Oh dear!
Things for some reason I've failed to mention (ie. little things God's been doing for me lately):
- assure me He's leading me and then walk me unscathed through a potentially disastrous situation
- give me a new name --> Lauren ap Elohim
- tell me something --> "Why do you always think that when you start praying you have to talk?"
- bless me financially
- allow me to regain some of the insight I used to have into people
- tell me to slow down (and avoid high blood pressure)
We start getting into those things for which there are no words. I'm sorry, this medium of communication fails here.
Who would have known the extent to which such endeavors would lead? The tangled mess of trying and failing all wrapped together with a fortune in gold. And all this before my morning coffee. My original quest thusly thwarted, the time has arisen for plan B. I watched recently on TV many great scientists argue about the time of origin for the Shroud of Turin. According to the scientific method, scientific proof comes from being able to repeat the same procedure and consistently end up with the same result. Well now, it seems that consistently when various scientists are giving their professional opinions on something, say the Shroud of Turin for example, the result, time after time, seems to be a very predictable lack of agreement. Does science disprove the scientific method?
Breaking forward in the relative movements of spring and poetry capture spiders in glory. Hallucinations require no more perfection than a great quantity of translated cash can give you. Moments lost beyond time strike like bells the memories of forgotten heroes. Meandering through the cyclic maze of fear and torment found it's own way in its own sweet time to the forefront of all. Perhaps we should just once let go of the magic of their lives and the torture of the expectations our children have yet to bring upon us. We can only be here you know. We can only disconnect from that which we have once before been connected to.
Why the tears, my friend? Why the blackened soul beneath the fantastic facade of joy and success? Where do you find it? Where do you bring your temptations when they cling to the inside of your warmest winter coat? What has taken you away from the future you were promised? If I were to lament the end not yet arrived, would my tears be sufficient to prime the pump of the Spirit in your soul? I have tried once you know. The morning before all that came after, was the greatest heartbreak of my life. But it doesn't really matter. You struck out on your own; you left me behind. It's OK though. Once it's all over, what's done is done. Maybe you can, but don't even try.
It brings me great joy to announce that my 39 year old (and not holding) truck made what turned out to be a four and a half hour trip (I had to bring my sister to her house, adding another hour) without hitch or any sort of problem. What can I tell you? 40 years ago, they really knew how to build them.
Tonight will be an interesting night. One of those moments I simultaeously anticipate and dread. For some reason, treading into unfamiliar social territory is one of those things that causes me greatest discomfort. And here, probably more than just about any other. Back in the Bible School days, I read a book on prayer and one of the prayer types in the book was the,... uh, well,... come to think of it, I seem to have forgotten what it was called. Anyhow, the idea was a short, one phrase prayer that you would constantly repeat. The most common being, "Lord be merciful to me a sinner." Mine is not quite that short, "Lord, help me to live in the reality of the power of Your love." The confidence I should have knowing that God, the maker of me and the world I live in loves
me. I want that reality to be evident in every part of my life. But for now, it's them ol' fluttery pigeons.
A good morning to all, and to all a good night, and that's about all I have to say to you this evening. OK, so it's not. Keep it to yourself. Have you ever found that the more that is going on, the less there is to say about it? No? Well, me neither. (Or maybe I have. At this point, who knows.) Quite out of control, I say. Right now my almost 2 year0 old20 20niece is try0ing to help0 me0 t0y0pe by play2ing+1 0with t
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+ for a moment. All done I see. (And yes, I just erased pages of blank space.) Hmmm... an interesting point we're at here.
I've been thinking. And perhaps that's my problem, but I've been thinking nonetheless. I've spent the last several days at my parents home with, for most of the time, the rest of my family. I've been discovering, or perhaps simply paying attention how much family gatherings stress me out. Ironically, this gathering has had the least strife or conflict out of just about any in history. It's not that my family doesn't get a long as a whole, it's just that everybody has buttons that everybody else intentionally or not, knows how to push. This time there was really very little button pushing... leading me to believe the stress comes from elsewhere than simply conflict. I know for sure part of it is simply being around many more people than usual (I live alone) and not having my space. I'm just surprised how much stress it causes. I love my family. I genuinely enjoy being around them. They just drive me to the edge of panic.
And some more I've been thinking... Tomorrow I drive my truck home. My truck is a 1965 GMC 910 ½ ton. It's about a 3 ½ hour drive. The farthest I've ever driven this truck in one stretch is oh, about an hour or maybe 1 ½ hours. It's done very little for the last several years although I did drive it a fair bit when I was in high school. In fact, driving it again kind of takes me back to those high school days. Sometimes I really would like to shoot this stupid computer that is automatically making mistakes everytime I do something right. It's a function known as "Auto-Correct." I for one, don't believe it. Anyhow, I took the opportunity with my truck this afternoon to do a bit of a tour. I grew up on a farm, and we just sold it probably just over two years ago. Maybe three at the most. I don't remember. This afternoon I went on a drive past the old farm and all the land we were farming. I remembered exactly how much I haven't dealt with this yet. The summer we moved off of the farm, I didn't have time to grieve or otherwise deal with things. There was an auction sale to prepare for. I didn't have the luxury of time for anything else. Now, driving the old farm truck (which, by the way, my grandpa bought new and my dad bought from him) over fields it had been over so many times and over which it would almost certainly never again pass, and feeling like the disposessed farm boy who had lost his farm and some of his identity with it, I couldn't help but shedding a few tears. One thing I don't do well is let go.
I've got more reasons for saying that. Right now I'm just trying to put years of, well, life into a few short words. I never know how. Maybe it isn't so much that I don't know how to let go. It's just that I don't know how to let go and hold on at the same time. I think at this point my desire is mostly to simply let go, but the other I've promised. Not to say I don't want to... because honestly I do (not, would be letting go way more than I want to) but at the same time, perhaps I need to (simply let go that is). And why, oh why is it that, no matter what the reality behind the situation, some people just make me nervous? I don't get it. And now... now, now... the other half of the fun, trying take hold without grabbing; trying to approach without leaping. Trying, as it may be, to approach the brink of the long slippery slope as slowly and carefully as possible so as to keep the nearly impossible to control descent as, well, in control as possible. I think the essence of "control" means retaining the ability to adjust direction and also retaining the ability to abort all together should it be required. All this, and I don't even know if I want to go forward at all. Ironically, I'm happy about that part.
Some days I find it remarkable that I've never once questioned my sanity.
It comes to me today that I need to spend a certain amount of time going nowhere in order to get somewhere. Before I can really stop and think, I really need to stop. Really, really, just need to stop. Star Trek; poetry. There's a concept of open spaces and blank screens being the poetry. If you need a bit of that, just scroll for a moment. I'll still be here.
Sounds and silence. There's a fan in the background but no one's home. Why walk when you could cry? Why think when you could just as easily run over that dumb chicken with your boat. You know there's always tomorrow. It's the noise I'm trying to get out, I think. Maybe just cut through. Who? Who's whispering to me? You want what!? You want
rain on your salad!? Bring back the something I once called my own.... And the world will remember. Remember who I am? Morning? No. Mourning has broken. Sit silently now. Be soft; remain still. Superfluous. Now there's a question. Really! I'm just not going to ask it. So what are your thoughts about feelings? Sometimes I think I live in a world dictated by them. Other times I think I'm ignoring them entirely. Feelings. Now then, what
should I feel? Throughout my life I hope and I think in some ways and in some areas I've managed to live with integrity. Of course, those ways and areas have never really mattered until now because until now, I was only living them theoretically. It's amazing what one can do in theory. Now, perhaps, theory may enter into the realm of practicality, and I think I may already have missed the whole stinking boat.
What is it they say, "If you're going to rock the boat, take a plane." Oh yeah, that's me. Nevermind.
The beginning? Or the end? To date, I've begun many endings and ended almost as many beginnings and could quite honestly swear I've got many more to go. If I only knew which was which. Or maybe I don't want to.
Lost in the memories. Thoughts of green. First spring; then the last. Everything in between is not. Why? Don't you know! Don't you know!! We thought once the answers had been found, and then... and then.... Don't you remember! Don't you remember!! New and old. It's what the world is made of. Or is it? Did you ever think that perhaps everything in this world is new? Or perhaps you think everything in this world is old. You may be right. It seems that the new is incomplete and the old...? The old is just a bit dusty. Dust to the core? Who am I?
Bring back the something I once called my own and the world will write a mystery tale of ancient style romance brought on by an attack of the insane kind.
Is it better to know or not to know? What is better?
Mismanagement. Is it a skill? Can one get their degree in it? Why is it so popular?
Holiness. What is it? It's nothing but a title. Can't you see it? It's a word so full of meaning that it doesn't mean a thing. It's become a word. It's become nothing. I've become convinced recently that the opposite of holiness is not unholiness. Rather, the opposite of holiness is mediocrity. You see, if holiness is nothing, how can unholiness be anything? It's not nothing? It's nothing not? Holy. Brought on by an attack of the insane kind. To be holy is to be separate. We live in a world of middle. This world is the extreme middle. Are you in it? Do you live it? To be mediocre is to be part of it. To be part, is not to be holy.
To cry. To wake up in the middle of the night and not know what just happened. To sleep. And then to know. Before the last thing came the first, and before the first comes Science to it's end. We know. You know. They all know but don't really care. The first is in the morning and the last was the night before and the entire middle is a big lump of jelly. Beginnings... Do you know?
I am here, at a beginning. It's interesting, you know, that this beginning is also an end. This is the end of being before now; now when I begin. I've contemplated blogging for the past several months, not being sure if I should do or not do. Why blog? It's a bit of a question. The part of it that gets me is how much of the desire to blog is subliminal exhibitionism and if not that, then what? I've arrived at a firm conclusion. I do not know. Through the course of the past several years of my life, I've realized sometimes not knowing is for the best. And so to the question... my answer is this. Ya just don't have to understand everything.
The Journey. My life and all that happens in between is what occupies most of my time. Somehow or other, no matter how I ignore it, it sneaks it's way in there and makes me take note. One of the great things about looking at life as a journey is the underlying assumption that your journey has a destination. The destination as such that I think of now is, I know, merely a stopover, and the path has in a way been clearly laid out, but there is so much traffic; so many routes available. So darn few signs. One does need to take note when they show up. Speaking of which...
A few weeks back I was contemplating a career direction for my life, among other things, and said, "God, what do you want me to do." "You're asking the wrong question," He told me, "You shouldn't ask, '
What do I want you to be, but rather '
Who do I want you to be. When you become who I want you to be, you will by nature do what I want you to do." And so I ask, "Who does God want me to be?"
