Slowing down. Way down.

I've been forced to slow down this week. And, as a warning, I am writing this while in a sinus-medicine-induced haze, so my thoughts are kind of everywhere. While I love the beauty of God's creation, I am sadly allergic to all of it. Animals, feathers, dust, mold, grass, pollen, trees... the list goes on. Way back when I was a good asthmatic with serious allergies, I dutifully took all my medicine and got weekly allergy shots. Now (big surprise) I can't seem to fit those weekly shots into my schedule, and I can't bear to shell out a $50 copay to go see the allergist, so I get by with taking the occasional Claritin and sometimes using my backup emergency Albuterol inhaler when cuddling with my puppies causes my breathing passages to close up. It could be worse.
But about twice a year, I am hit with a terrible, horrible sinus infection. And this week has been the Second Annual Sinus Infection of 2010. I could feel it coming when I woke up on Monday. Tuesday, of course, was impossibly busy. I have season tickets at the Orpheum, and Tuesday night I had big plans to go out to dinner and see Wicked, which is one of my favorite shows. By the time I got to dinner, I was so stuffed up that I couldn't taste anything. I think I had a really good chicken and pineapple sandwich at South of Beale. Everyone who tasted it said it was good. As Wicked went on, I continued to go downhill. By the end of the show, I had gone through a handful of cough drops and a purse-full of Kleenex, and I had a fever.
At this point, I just want to say that I'm proud of myself: before I went to bed that night, I made the decision that I wasn't going to work on Wednesday. I sent the necessary emails, took a big dose of whatever "may cause drowsiness" medicine I could find, and didn't even set the alarm clock. That is a big step for me. I hate missing a day of work, especially when I haven't planned for it. I feel like I have people and children who are counting on me to be there, and I don't want to let them down. The bigger issue here, though, is that I feel guilty missing a day, as if people are saying, "She's slacking off. How sick can she really be? The rest of us all come to work even when we don't feel great." I don't know if people actually say this-- I just imagine that they do. But honestly, I'm not doing myself or anyone else any favors by trying to "survive" at work on a day when I just need to be at home. I slept for twelve straight hours, went to the doctor, and (thanks to a sinus cocktail and four prescriptions) went back to work on Thursday feeling a million times better. I'm still not feeling great, but I know I feel better than I would have if I hadn't just taken a little time to slow down. It's Saturday afternoon right now, and I have had a restful weekend so far. I know my body needs it, so I'm trying to be good to myself and not push myself too hard. I want to be out there in the fall weather. I want to go on a walk, look for pretty trees, admire the Halloween decorations in the nearby neighborhoods. But not yet. Honestly, I've enjoyed having a few slow days. I may claim sinus trouble for a few more weeks, just to have an excuse to be slow about things!


On the subject of slowing down, a friend posted this on Facebook earlier this week:

"Speed damages our souls because living fast consumes every ounce of our energy. Speed has a deafening roar that drowns our the whispering voices of our souls and leaves Jesus as a diminishing speck in the rearview mirror." -Michael Yaconelli

 

It's like she knew I needed to read that! Thanks, A! I have thought about the effect that my rushing around has on God's presence in my life, and this quote just puts it perfectly. I am leaving Him behind. This is my favorite time of year, when the weather cools off and the trees change. I feel like some years I really soak up the season; I admire every changing tree, every falling leaf, and I see God's presence in nature. And then other years, I just get so wrapped up in myself that before I know it, fall has passed, the trees are bare, and I haven't praised God for letting me appreciate yet another brilliant autumn. Well, that's not going to happen this year. I am slowing down, I am looking at every tree, and I am looking for God's beauty during this, my favorite time of year. Those red trees on the side of the road may be diminishing specks in my rearview mirror, but God will not be!

Blessings!

I just wanted to take a minute and give thanks! I have felt incredibly blessed this week, and it has just been because of little things here and there. For example, the kindness of a stranger- I discovered yesterday that the guy at the Dunkn' Donuts drive-thru gave me extra punches on my card, which means free coffee on Monday! I know that's small, but it is nice to know that my efforts to be nice and friendly in the morning paid off. (I am so not a morning person. And this poor guy has to deal with me before I've even had a sip of coffee.)

I am just so thankful for my friends, my family, my job and colleagues... I love my life and I needed to take a moment to reflect on it and give thanks! God is so good!

Mid-week mania

I wrote this Wednesday night, but I haven’t had internet access to post it until now:

For the record, I love my job. I thank God every day that He has blessed me with an amazing school, a fabulous group of coworkers, and the cutest darn kids I’ve ever seen. There isn’t even a “but…” to this statement. I honestly love it. I don’t ever want it to sound like I’m complaining about work.

That being said, there are some days where I just go and go and go, and it wears me out. This is our first week back after fall break, and I was anticipating a pretty light week. I really should take a look at my plan book before I decide such things. Monday and Tuesday were fine; I’m housesitting, so there were a few extra responsibilities but nothing too bad. Then Wednesday hit…

Wednesdays are always my longest, busiest days, and I just really struggle with finding mid-week peace. Today I woke up at 5:45; I fed and watered the dogs and then rushed off to work for “early morning duty,” which I do every Wednesday. God bless my dear, dear friend who brought me a nice big cup of Starbucks. I can’t work the fancy coffeemaker over here, and I didn’t have time to grab coffee at a drive through. From there, I don’t think I sat down all day, except for sitting uncomfortably on the floor in my skirt as I led small groups. I know that’s normal for a teacher. (I’m not complaining, just explaining.) We have faculty meetings on Wednesdays, and this week was my turn to organize snacks for the meeting. I love Halloween, so our snacks absolutely had to have a Halloween theme. That meant that I spent my time between classes setting up tables, decorating, arranging fake spiders artistically across my orange tablecloths, baking chicken-cheese things, etc. Then I spent the beginning of our meeting rushing around, making sure trays were filled and everyone else’s snack contributions made it to the table. Then I sat through a very informative talk about ADHD where I pretty much solidified my suspicion that I do indeed have ADHD. (That really helps with the whole “trying to be peaceful” thing, trust me.) From there I sped to my parents’ house to drop off all the dishes I borrowed for my snacks (moms own SO many Halloween platters—it’s a scary mom thing), then I went out for a quick dinner with my mom, during which I ate fast and talked fast—the entire time—about my hectic day (I’m sure Mom loved that), and then I went to church choir practice. By that point, I had entirely drained my supply of attention and good behavior for the day (side note: I really think I’m allotted a certain amount of attention span each day. I used all mine up by about 3:00 today). I fidgeted, I whispered to my friends, I texted, I checked my watch a lot, I spaced out… occasionally I sang when I was supposed to. And now I’m home, vegging in front of the TV in my pajamas, and I still feel like I’m rushing. My mind just won’t stop.

My problem is that once I get going, I can’t slow down. Days like today, I’m just constantly thinking about the next thing. I rush through dinner so I can do what? Hurry up and go sit around at choir? And then I’m impatient during choir because I can’t wait to go sit around on the couch. Is this normal? Am I really living my life the way God wants me to when I’m not really living in the moment? I wish I could just focus on what I’m doing at the time, without being so anxious for what is coming next. And when the day is over, when it’s time to just slow down and enjoy a meal with family or time singing with friends or quiet time on my couch , I wish I could really s l o w  d o w n.

Luckily there’s another Wednesday coming up, so I can try this whole slowing down thing again.

Inside People

I wrote this Tuesday night, but I haven’t had internet access to post it until now:

For the record, I’ve been a little angry at nature lately. It’s October, it’s supposed to be fall, my favorite season, but instead we’re experiencing record high temperatures. Why am I surprised that the weather in Memphis isn’t cooperating with me? When has Memphis weather ever been agreeable or reliable? So, given my generally unhappy feeling toward everything outside right now (come on, leaves. Change already!), it was only fitting that I find myself in some outdoor-type situations today.

And the outdoors worked their magic, of course. I was feeling a little guilty about the handful of trail mix I ate earlier (by “handful” I mean enough trail mix to fit in the palm of Lou Ferrigno’s hand) so before I allowed myself to commit to dinner plans I decided I had to go for a walk. I’m housesitting right now, and I love walking through new neighborhoods and tracking my route on my handy iPhone app. I get bored with the same old walking paths, so I decided to venture into a zero-lot-line neighborhood nearby which I had always driven past but never explored. Those little houses are so quaint, all neatly lined up in rows with their tiny yards and impeccable landscaping. But they tend to look so… suburban. Stepford-esque, even. So when I noticed a little asphalt path leading out of the neighborhood, I took it, of course, and found myself in a park! It was just a random little path around a semi-dried-up pond, but beyond that was a really pretty view of the Wolf River. I stopped walking and climbed up a little sandy hill so I could really get a good view of the meandering river. The area was so peaceful and secluded. The only other person nearby was a boy circling around and around the pond on his bike.

That little boy on the bike got me thinking too, just about the effect that nature has on kids. Studies have shown (or so I’ve heard) that nature is calming to children. Take those kids who act up in a classroom, put them out in nature… and they’re so well behaved. I think I just assumed that those mischievous students are the ones who are most likely to get outside and start rubbing sticks together to make fire, or torturing ants under a magnifying glass, but that’s not true. They really show an appreciation for the outdoors. I went on a field trip today to the Botanic Gardens, and it was really great to see all those kids outside. They all behaved wonderfully. They were engaged in our activities, they were exploring and discovering nature, and it’s just really cute to see kids get so excited about looking for leaves and talking about seed pods.

I think that kids in general, and really just all people, don’t spend as much time outside as they used to. I know I sound like an old lady when I say this, but I remember playing outside all the time. We rode our bikes everywhere, we invented games, we swam, we climbed the magnolia tree… video games (and by that I mean my dad’s old Atari games) were a rare thing. They weren’t even really a luxury. Just something we would pull out from time to time once it got too dark to play outside. And just for the record, I’m 26, so those days weren’t too long ago. So now I’m an “indoor girl,” as someone called me. I’m not a huge lover of the outdoors. I don’t camp, for example. That doesn’t mean I don’t like to be outside; I’m just allergic to it all. And I’m terrified of spiders. But really, haven’t we all become indoor people? I don’t know any parents who let their kids run around outside unsupervised. And I really don’t know more than a handful of people who spend substantial amounts of time outside. And, speaking as an indoor person, that’s really unfortunate. I know I’m in the wrong here too, but where is there a better place to find peace than out there among all of God’s creation? I remember when I was younger, middle school or high school, I would ride my bike all the time. Whenever I got really mad or frustrated about something, I could hop on my bike and as I picked up speed I could just feel the frustration melting away. By the time I got to my destination, assuming I even had one, I couldn’t even remember why I was mad in the first place. My point here isn’t that I think I should ride my bike more. My frustration toward bikers is a topic for another day. I’m just saying that there’s something peaceful about being outside, being at one with the majesty of God’s creation (even if you are in the middle of suburbia), and that maybe I should remember that the next time I need to center myself.

Giving...

It's the time of year at church again where we make our annual giving pledges. I've been thinking a lot lately about the whole idea of giving, and the idea of tithing 10 percent, and since yesterday's sermon, I've been thinking about the concept of giving with a thankful heart and not out of obligation. Actually, I think that came from "a time for children" and not the sermon, but at least I was paying attention to something.

I don't really have any well-formed thoughts on the subject yet. It's just something that's currently weighing on my heart and that I'm praying about. I've always considered tithing something that Christians are sort of obligated to do. And honestly, I never feel particularly thankful or joyful as I put my money in the offering plate. But the idea of giving to the church, more specifically, giving ten percent, came from the early practice of giving the first ten percent of one's harvest as an offering to God. The first ten percent-- that's what gets me. How can I give the first ten percent and know that I have enough left over for myself? A selfish thought, yes, but I'm not the only person who thinks this. Isn't it easier to see what's left over at the end and then give what I can? Does that defeat the purpose of giving? It's still giving, after all.

I think this is where faith comes in, and this is where it gets hard for me. I've heard people say they give ten percent of their paycheck as soon as they're paid, and then they trust that it will work out in the end. And honestly, the thought of doing that is really stressing me out. How can I trust that the numbers will just work out in the end? If I do the math on paper and it's not adding up, is there some sort of "magic math" that happens as soon as my money hits the collection plate? I know I'm being called to give, and to do so with a joyful heart. And this is where my faith is being tested. This is where I need to keep thinking, and praying and reading so that I can be at peace about my giving. I'm sure I'll be writing about this for a while!

Finding peace on Facebook

The past few days, I've still been thinking about negativity-- more specifically, how to handle negative comments. One thing about me that I don't really love is my quick temper. It really doesn't take much to make me mad (just ask my dad), and I always have to have the last word. Why can't I just let things go?

There's a scene in You've Got Mail, which I watch every time it's on TV, where Meg Ryan's character laments the fact that she can't ever think of the perfect comeback until it's too late. I think this was also a storyline on Seinfeld (pretty sure this is where George came up with, "The jerk store called. They're running out of you!") Anyway, the one time that she manages to come up with an appropriate zinger at just the right time, she feels horrible about it. This never happens to me. I don't have trouble thinking of something to say; I have trouble holding it in. And, of course, when it does slip out, I feel bad about it (sometimes). The combination of my quick temper and my sarcasm, which really is out of control, can get me in trouble. Luckily I can usually explain quickly that I am sarcastic; or that I wasn't trying to be sarcastic but it sounded like I was; or I can do some fast backtalking to get myself out of a foot-in-mouth situation.

The one place where I can't get away with any of that is here on my computer. Electronic communication doesn't allow for sarcasm, or "takebacks." Once it's out there, it's out there. It can be saved, printed, forwarded... it's never forgotten. I think this is a lesson some people could stand to learn, but my purpose here isn't to point fingers at others. I'm thinking about how I respond to unwelcome comments on the internet. In actual face-to-face conversation, I sometimes can't stop myself from getting the last word. That sarcastic word-vomit just comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. But online, on Facebook, to be more specific, I can think about what I say before I type it. And then I can think about what I've typed before I send it. So there's really no excuse for word-vomit comments. Someone recently typed something that I found offensive. It's not the first time this has happened, and I've let it go in the past. I like to think I was doing it to be the better person, but really it was because I couldn't decide which snarky comment I wanted to type. While the end result was good-- I didn't take this person's bait-- I didn't arrive at it in quite the manner that I should have. This time, I want to do the right thing. I don't want to mull over all the possible responses I could make. I don't want to run to my friends and complain. I just want to be at peace with the fact that this person says things that offend me, and I know that responding won't help the situation, so really the best thing to do is just to let it pass. Is that so hard?

I'm looking at Bible verses about dealing with anger right now, and Proverbs is just full of gems: "A man's wisdom gives him patience; it is to his glory to overlook an offense." "An angry man stirs up dissension, and a hot-tempered one commits many sins." Okay, okay, I get it. This is that whole turn-the-other-cheek, pray-for-those-who-persecute-you thing. I know that if I don't say something, these comments will continue. But I'm being called to hold my tongue, to think before I type. So I'm praying that I will get to a point where these comments roll off my back. I'm not there yet, clearly, but hopefully I will be someday.

Peace, Pigskin, and Pessimism

This weekend I took my new peaceful self on the road, and I realized this would be a good chance for me to see how calm I can be while dealing with the inevitable hassles of traveling. Of course, when I'm dealing with a travel-related issue, I never remember in that moment to stay calm and find peace. It's always after, when I'm reliving the situation, that I realize how un-peaceful I really was. The weekend was just chock full of opportunities to lose my peaceful focus: an 8-hour roadtrip with my family; driving in a caravan with two other cars; dealing with rainy weather; and watching football. The whole family/football thing was no big deal. My family and I travel really well together, and I am just generally very apathetic about football (the same cannot be said about basketball, however). We went to the Indiana/Michigan game, which was a bit of a family rivalry since dad is a Michigan fan and Brother went to Indiana. The other people in our caravan were some of dad's Michigan buddies. There were, however, three situations in which I felt my sense of calm was being tested.
First, we had to deal with some rainy weather. Ugh, just typing that made me feel whiny. The thing is, a 30% chance of rain in Memphis means it's not going to rain. We learned that a 30% chance of rain in Bloomington, Indiana, means not only is it going to rain, but the rain is going to just settle right over the parking lot where you are trying to fire up your fancy tailgate grill. The whole time the rain was falling, I was fretting. I worried that my jacket wasn't waterproof. I worried that my shoes weren't waterproof. I worried that I didn't have on enough layers to combat the icy temperatures. I even (so shameful) worried about my hair. The rain did finally end; we grilled up an amazing lunch, and the weather during the game was absolutely perfect, albeit a little chilly. I regret the amount of time I spent worrying about the weather. I wish I had just given myself a weather pep talk (I do this a lot... it goes something like "It's raining, and it's going to be raining for a while. You will get wet. Deal with it and move on." It's how I made it through this summer's record high temps. Yes, I'm a nerd) and allowed myself to enjoy the day despite the showers.
Of course, I also think my bad attitude toward the rain was partly due to my exposure to Peace Roadblock #2, who I will just call Negative Nancy. One of the couples in our caravan was someone my dad met while watching Michigan football. No one we were with knew them very well, but when we found out they had tickets to the game they were invited to caravan and tailgate with us. The husband was very nice. The wife was very... well, just negative. She hated everything we did. She complained that the drive took eight hours instead of seven, and she argued this point as if she thought she could magically erase an hour from the drive. She was too tired to join us for dinner. And on Saturday, the first thing out of her mouth at the rainy tailgate was "I hate this place!" She made friends with some people who had a tent, stood in the corner of their tent all day, and didn't open her mouth except to complain about the rain, the cold, her hair (yes, this is sounding familiar. I am ashamed of myself. But at least I just spent the day worrying to myself instead of complaining to others... right? Right?) Her negativity became a bit of a joke to Brother and me. We started anticipating what she would complain about next. At the end of the game, which her team won, and which she almost missed because she wanted to sit in the car by herself instead of sit out in the cold, she came up to us and blurted out, "This was one game I was hoping wouldn't go into overtime! I don't want to sit out here any longer than I already have!" Really??? That was the best game I've watched in a while, and that's all you can say? Okay, sorry, I can feel myself losing my cool as I type.
I think what I learned from that was how much I let others' opinions affect mine. Maybe I would have been okay with the rain if she hadn't complained about it so much. Or maybe I'm just unfairly blaming her for my bad attitude. I think maybe it's a little bit of both. I think I could have snapped out of my rain-induced funk and truly enjoyed our soggy tailgate if she hadn't been with us. Negative people are draining. You can try disagreeing with them, you can try being positive when they're being Debbie Downers, but in the end is it really worth the effort to keep reasoning with them? They'll wear you out or they'll pull you down with them. Either way, you end up negative too.
How often have I been that negative person? Have I ever been the Debbie Downer who ruined someone else's weekend? Have I complained so much about something that it became exhausting for others to be around me? I feel like that's not very peaceful of me. Unloading my problems on unsuspecting bystanders... that's not who I want to be. And I don't know what the answer is here. Do I pray for a joyful heart, for the ability to stay positive in situations that would normally get me down? Do I pray for the ability to rejoice during times of trial (knowing that the testing of my faith produces patience, according to James 1:2-4)? Maybe I'll try that and see where it gets me.

A Metaphor

I had a rare flash of insight the other night when I was at choir practice. Church choirs are made up of a mix of people who can sing really well and people who aren’t the best singers but still want to participate and glorify God through music. I’ve noticed (I’m sure this is true for all choirs) that sometimes the better singers try to sing extra-loud as a way of “helping” the singers who, well, aren’t as good. I have caught myself singing too loudly in choir on many occasions, but it’s not because I think I’m better and that the other singers need my help. When I was in college and had the privilege of singing with a group of incredible musicians, I sang loudly. I know those singers and music majors didn’t need my “help.” I just sometimes get caught up in listening to myself and I forget that I’m supposed to be blending with the rest of my section. But when I do remember this, when I match my volume to the singers around me and really focus on how the different voices combine, it’s beautiful. I love singing dissonant chords. I love being the note in the chord that eventually resolves. I love hearing how the altos voices blend with the tenors, while the basses' voices thrum on those low notes that hold the whole chord together.

My flash of insight came when I compared my choir self to my out-in-the-world self. I get caught up in my own life, worried about my own issues, focusing only on myself. And how am I supposed to blend with my environment, with the people in my life, if I’m only listening to myself sing? I think that part of being peaceful is being at peace with my surroundings and learning to live peacefully with others. This means shifting my focus from just myself to how I blend with the people around me. And it makes a difference! Talking to others, even exchanging a few words with the woman who is in front of me in the checkout line, or saying hello to my neighbors reminds me that I’m part of a community. I like being an active participant in the world, and I am called to interact with those around me in a peaceful manner, with a joyful heart, and with a feeling of love and tolerance toward total strangers. All of our voices and lives together, as a community, are more beautiful and more pleasing to God than anything I could do, any noise I could make, on my own. God, grant me the ability to listen to the other voices in the choir too, and to make sure that my voice blends with the others to create a beautiful noise.