My, what difference a day makes!
Lord, thank you for the opportunity to stay home and recharge for most of yesterday. I did drive to New York to pick up friends from LaGuardia Airport, but that didn't happen until evening time. What a needed Saturday of staying in and refraining from social obligations!
My attitude has picked up tremendously since yesterday's blog post. Yesterday morning as I wrote, I was still reeling from a stressful week and an exhausting Friday. I knew I was grumbling a bit, but I couldn't stop myself from verbalizing pent-up feelings. With rest, gratitude has returned.
I did something nice for myself this evening. I bought a burger and fries from Shake Shack and had a little picnic in Edgerton Park, away from the people of New Haven and Bethesda. The fries even tasted healthy because they were so good for my soul.
Self-care is not normally a department in which I find myself lacking. But I've needed to give myself more of it lately, with a summer job turned stressful and a communal living situation to which I am still adjusting. Your mercy truly sustains me, Lord!
May I cease my striving this week and rest in Your provision. Your provision of energy, ability, efficiency, and focus. You lead me beside still waters...thou wilt keep in perfect peace her whose mind is staid on thee...
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Prayers
Theology drains me sometimes. I know some friends who love organizing their thoughts about God and making (a little more) tangible things about Divine mysteries. It's as if verbalizing something gives it a claim to truth. And it does, in many ways.
Though I did very well in my Introduction to Theology class, I know that this particular way of academic and spiritual engagement is just not my thing. I much prefer to read people's thoughts spoken aloud to God, rather than their thoughts about God. I've always enjoyed reading people's descriptions of their interactions with God. Perhaps I shall take a course on Women Mystics this academic year.
Prayer involves speaking to God and listening to Him, and eavesdropping on others' prayers gives me a window into the things God is up to within humanity.
Here are snippets from some of mine this morning:
Lord, I have not had an entire day to myself in ages, it seems. What a luxury to be able to sleep in until I awaken naturally, with no piercing alarm to jumpstart me into a busy day! You speak to me in my waking moments, while I still lie on my bed. Oh, I could bask in that peace for the whole day, if human needs did not compel me to get up and use the restroom.
I go downstairs to make breakfast, relieved that the kitchen is empty. My housemate walks in from the other room to say good morning, and I am pleased. A little bit of human contact is always good, even if one is starting an Introvert Recharging Day.
A pot has been in the sink since 2 days ago. It's not my mess but I wash it anyway, hearing my irritation reflected in my quick sloshing of water. Lord, give me grace. I am so ungenerous sometimes.
It seems that people are always wanting something from me. Work, of course, is a given. But at least I'm being paid to do that. Then there are friends who want to get together. "We should hang out sometime....Let's go here and do that....Can we have a party?"
Perhaps it comes as a surprise to some that I don't actually always enjoy being with people. I love my own company best. Why, then, did I throw so many parties last semester? Why, now, have I taken on the role of Community Life Co-Coordinator at Yale Divinity School?
Lord, why do I do things that I know will challenge me? All I ever wanted since I was a child was a simple life and a nice family. And lots of personal space--you know this!
And yet, reflecting back on my journey thus far, there are also clear memories of the exact times that delineate my sense of calling and purpose and which call for me to engage with community.
Bridge. Multitude. Supernatural. Warrior.
These were words prayed over me by my church before I departed for New Haven.
And then last night.
I have given you the City of New Haven as territory.
What does that mean?
I've taken steps to get to know my city this summer. My goal was never to relax and have fun. You know this, Lord! Yesterday evening, I attended a spoken word and visual arts exhibit at ArtSpace. Incarcerated men and New Haven youth showcased their work. It was deeply moving.
If I'd had my way, I would have come home and hidden in my room to process all that I heard. Instead, I went and bought s'mores for a bonfire that was taking place in my back yard. A dear friend said it best: "It's challenging being an Introvert Host." I often have to hide from my own parties--bathroom breaks, walking people out to their cars and taking my time to come back...
I gather people together because I sense that it is a way to meet a need. Yale Divinity School is starving for true community, and if I can somehow help provide some of that by hosting parties where theology is discussed over beers and where sing-alongs are made possible by stellar guitar players in our midst, then it's my joy to do so. But I don't do it to satisfy my own need. It takes a full day for me to recover from every party I host.
Then there are things that recharge me. Solitary walks, blogging, and dancing, where the only interaction is physical and not verbal. Going to church to worship and receive prayer. That's where I meet you the most easily, Lord, safeguarded from my own distractions and wayward mind.
In this life, Introvert Heaven is found by shutting the room of my door or escaping humanity by going to nature. But in Heaven, there will be no sense of being drained, and my identity as an Introvert will be subsumed by a sense of community that is always only uplifting and life-giving. Oh, how I look forward to that day!
Though I did very well in my Introduction to Theology class, I know that this particular way of academic and spiritual engagement is just not my thing. I much prefer to read people's thoughts spoken aloud to God, rather than their thoughts about God. I've always enjoyed reading people's descriptions of their interactions with God. Perhaps I shall take a course on Women Mystics this academic year.
Prayer involves speaking to God and listening to Him, and eavesdropping on others' prayers gives me a window into the things God is up to within humanity.
Here are snippets from some of mine this morning:
Lord, I have not had an entire day to myself in ages, it seems. What a luxury to be able to sleep in until I awaken naturally, with no piercing alarm to jumpstart me into a busy day! You speak to me in my waking moments, while I still lie on my bed. Oh, I could bask in that peace for the whole day, if human needs did not compel me to get up and use the restroom.
I go downstairs to make breakfast, relieved that the kitchen is empty. My housemate walks in from the other room to say good morning, and I am pleased. A little bit of human contact is always good, even if one is starting an Introvert Recharging Day.
A pot has been in the sink since 2 days ago. It's not my mess but I wash it anyway, hearing my irritation reflected in my quick sloshing of water. Lord, give me grace. I am so ungenerous sometimes.
It seems that people are always wanting something from me. Work, of course, is a given. But at least I'm being paid to do that. Then there are friends who want to get together. "We should hang out sometime....Let's go here and do that....Can we have a party?"
Perhaps it comes as a surprise to some that I don't actually always enjoy being with people. I love my own company best. Why, then, did I throw so many parties last semester? Why, now, have I taken on the role of Community Life Co-Coordinator at Yale Divinity School?
Lord, why do I do things that I know will challenge me? All I ever wanted since I was a child was a simple life and a nice family. And lots of personal space--you know this!
And yet, reflecting back on my journey thus far, there are also clear memories of the exact times that delineate my sense of calling and purpose and which call for me to engage with community.
Bridge. Multitude. Supernatural. Warrior.
These were words prayed over me by my church before I departed for New Haven.
And then last night.
I have given you the City of New Haven as territory.
What does that mean?
I've taken steps to get to know my city this summer. My goal was never to relax and have fun. You know this, Lord! Yesterday evening, I attended a spoken word and visual arts exhibit at ArtSpace. Incarcerated men and New Haven youth showcased their work. It was deeply moving.
If I'd had my way, I would have come home and hidden in my room to process all that I heard. Instead, I went and bought s'mores for a bonfire that was taking place in my back yard. A dear friend said it best: "It's challenging being an Introvert Host." I often have to hide from my own parties--bathroom breaks, walking people out to their cars and taking my time to come back...
I gather people together because I sense that it is a way to meet a need. Yale Divinity School is starving for true community, and if I can somehow help provide some of that by hosting parties where theology is discussed over beers and where sing-alongs are made possible by stellar guitar players in our midst, then it's my joy to do so. But I don't do it to satisfy my own need. It takes a full day for me to recover from every party I host.
Then there are things that recharge me. Solitary walks, blogging, and dancing, where the only interaction is physical and not verbal. Going to church to worship and receive prayer. That's where I meet you the most easily, Lord, safeguarded from my own distractions and wayward mind.
In this life, Introvert Heaven is found by shutting the room of my door or escaping humanity by going to nature. But in Heaven, there will be no sense of being drained, and my identity as an Introvert will be subsumed by a sense of community that is always only uplifting and life-giving. Oh, how I look forward to that day!
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Random thoughts from Bethesda
I've moved into a beautiful apartment at Bethesda Lutheran Church, just down the street from the Divinity School Campus, where I used to live.
Living in community has been both challenging and a blessing, after having a two-bedroom apartment to myself for an entire six months.
My first night here, I bleached and scrubbed the bathtub. Rent is less, but it comes at the price of my independence. Community will be a good cure for the parts of me that like to be in control and to be left alone. And as much as I cherish personal space, it is nice to feel like I have a family with which to share life in New Haven. I now have housemates who care enough to call and text when I'm not home by 10:30 at night!
Bethesda was a pool in Jerusalem, believed to have healing powers. Invalids gathered around and hoped to be carried to the water when it stirred. Jesus healed a man at the pool, telling him to pick up his mat and walk--on a Sabbath day.
Religious life is a funny thing, and it's even more interesting when Jesus gets involved. Perhaps angels do stir the water from time to time, and perhaps we do need our friends to give us a lift towards forces that heal. Perhaps sometimes, too, we just get up and walk away from the place at which we stayed for so long.
Community is an important, beautiful thing. It's also where the rubber meets the road and where love takes form in concrete acts of giving and receiving. Done right, it can be a healing force for all involved.
I chose to come to this intentional community, and I look forward to living here this coming year. Come September, I'll also be a Community Life Co-Coordinator at the Divinity School, making "community" an official theme of the year I transition from my 20s to my 30s.
June gloom had me hermited away in my apartment, cherishing my last month of solitude and spending time completing 70 educational credits for my Music Therapy Recertification. July is come, and I am ready to connect with friends again, for doing life alone can only last so long. Already, conversations in the past week have been life-giving and inspiring.
I don't know Hebrew, but some translate Bethesda to say House of Mercy. May mercy abound in this house of mine--this house of ours--and may it become a home where community is found!
Living in community has been both challenging and a blessing, after having a two-bedroom apartment to myself for an entire six months.
My first night here, I bleached and scrubbed the bathtub. Rent is less, but it comes at the price of my independence. Community will be a good cure for the parts of me that like to be in control and to be left alone. And as much as I cherish personal space, it is nice to feel like I have a family with which to share life in New Haven. I now have housemates who care enough to call and text when I'm not home by 10:30 at night!
Bethesda was a pool in Jerusalem, believed to have healing powers. Invalids gathered around and hoped to be carried to the water when it stirred. Jesus healed a man at the pool, telling him to pick up his mat and walk--on a Sabbath day.
Religious life is a funny thing, and it's even more interesting when Jesus gets involved. Perhaps angels do stir the water from time to time, and perhaps we do need our friends to give us a lift towards forces that heal. Perhaps sometimes, too, we just get up and walk away from the place at which we stayed for so long.
Community is an important, beautiful thing. It's also where the rubber meets the road and where love takes form in concrete acts of giving and receiving. Done right, it can be a healing force for all involved.
I chose to come to this intentional community, and I look forward to living here this coming year. Come September, I'll also be a Community Life Co-Coordinator at the Divinity School, making "community" an official theme of the year I transition from my 20s to my 30s.
June gloom had me hermited away in my apartment, cherishing my last month of solitude and spending time completing 70 educational credits for my Music Therapy Recertification. July is come, and I am ready to connect with friends again, for doing life alone can only last so long. Already, conversations in the past week have been life-giving and inspiring.
I don't know Hebrew, but some translate Bethesda to say House of Mercy. May mercy abound in this house of mine--this house of ours--and may it become a home where community is found!
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Sunday morning thoughts
I have been gifted with the pleasant inability to recall exact details of liturgy. Liturgy passes through my being even as I go through its stages. It's a rather beautiful experience when you come away with a feeling of connectedness and awareness that analysis would only spoil.
And so I experienced the 10 o'clock service at St. Thomas's Episcopal Church this morning. I won't bother to describe everything that went on, but the general impression I got was one of light, openness, and frankness. The faces I saw were pleasant, and some were even familiar.
From the sermon, I took away one reminder: "we are all becoming." What an apt reminder, as living and being in community sometimes stretches an introvert on multiple levels. What a comforting thought, as my introspection often leads to discontent!
If I laid out before you all my thoughts, you would see that they often conflict and contradict. I correct and overcorrect my own thinking patterns, and feelings become interwoven into the picture like threads on a loom. I've learned by now to accept and hold those feelings, releasing them into appropriate outlets when given the opportunity, but that doesn't mean that they aren't taxing.
Our service this morning ended with a blessing: "and may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus our Lord."
What a familiar verse this is, one that accompanied me throughout college--but which I've lately neglected to remember. I need the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. Some times of life feel more jumbled than others, and my latest transitions have pointed me to my need for even more trust and acceptance of the future and others.
On my walk back from church, a few bright flowers startled me into joy. Beauty does wonders for the soul, and in my recent days filled with dusty office and home spaces, learning about and working with families in poverty, and experiencing the culture dying in the medical field, one pop of color in a neighborhood of beautiful homes and green foliage somehow put a pause to the silent jumble within.
We are in the process of becoming....as individuals, churches, neighborhoods, and communities. New Haven is the only city in America with a decreasing crime rate, I heard the other day. We are all becoming.
In the meantime, may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard us, both emotionally, physically, and spiritually.
And so I experienced the 10 o'clock service at St. Thomas's Episcopal Church this morning. I won't bother to describe everything that went on, but the general impression I got was one of light, openness, and frankness. The faces I saw were pleasant, and some were even familiar.
From the sermon, I took away one reminder: "we are all becoming." What an apt reminder, as living and being in community sometimes stretches an introvert on multiple levels. What a comforting thought, as my introspection often leads to discontent!
If I laid out before you all my thoughts, you would see that they often conflict and contradict. I correct and overcorrect my own thinking patterns, and feelings become interwoven into the picture like threads on a loom. I've learned by now to accept and hold those feelings, releasing them into appropriate outlets when given the opportunity, but that doesn't mean that they aren't taxing.
Our service this morning ended with a blessing: "and may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus our Lord."
What a familiar verse this is, one that accompanied me throughout college--but which I've lately neglected to remember. I need the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. Some times of life feel more jumbled than others, and my latest transitions have pointed me to my need for even more trust and acceptance of the future and others.
On my walk back from church, a few bright flowers startled me into joy. Beauty does wonders for the soul, and in my recent days filled with dusty office and home spaces, learning about and working with families in poverty, and experiencing the culture dying in the medical field, one pop of color in a neighborhood of beautiful homes and green foliage somehow put a pause to the silent jumble within.
We are in the process of becoming....as individuals, churches, neighborhoods, and communities. New Haven is the only city in America with a decreasing crime rate, I heard the other day. We are all becoming.
In the meantime, may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard us, both emotionally, physically, and spiritually.
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