A Room with a View

My book club met last night, so I feel free to blog about this E.M. Forster book now. (It was a little weird when I first arrived last night, because I had just read my version of a book club meeting on this book that I had fanfic'd a little over a year ago. Wanted to refresh my memory on what I had thought then on some of the main points. Lisa says I'm a nerd.)

I love this book. Love it. (I think I've mentioned that.) There was somebody there who pretty much hated it, which is always a little punch-to-the-gut for me because I identify so strongly with certain fictional characters and books and movies that somebody saying they like or dislike it is immediately equivalent in my mind to people saying they like or dislike me. To the point that when people say something like, "My favorite character in the Harry Potter series is Hermione," I have to remind myself that other people do not think like I do and so very likely this is not a compliment or oblique reference to what the person thinks of me. 

A Room with a View is strongly themed around personal honesty. Lucy is a young woman raised in a fairly conventional society, and she has been accustomed to accepting everyone else's view of her. On a holiday to Italy, she finds herself rebelling internally, urged on by a pair of travelers with whom she falls into easy comradeship. This disturbs her so much that she runs (personal honesty is a frightening thing when you're not used to it), but of course you can't run from truth your whole life, at least not often in books, and by the end everything has sorted out, or she has.

Lisa said that a room with a view is a place from which you can see things, thus the title for a book about broadening horizons and seeing things as they are. (She said it better last night, but I didn't write it down.)

Quotes, quotes, quotes, quotes....

"He has the merit--if it is one--of saying exactly what he means. He has rooms he does not value, and he thinks you would value them. He no more thought of putting you under an obligation than he thought of being polite. It is so difficult--at least, I find it difficult--to understand people who speak the truth."

"By understanding George you may learn to understand yourself." 

"She had refused, not because she disliked him, but because she did not know what had happened, and she suspected that he did know. And this frightened her."

"I'm always right. I'm quite uneasy at being always right so often."

"Secrecy has this disadvantage: we lose the sense of proportion; we cannot tell whether our secret is important or not."

"For the only relationship which Cecil conceived was feudal: that of protector and protected. He had no glimpse of the comradeship after which the girl's soul yearned."

"But Lucy had developed since the spring. That is to say, she was now better able to stifle the emotions of which the conventions and the world disapprove. Though the danger was greater, she was not shaken by deep sobs.... Love felt and returned, love which our bodies exact and our hearts have transfigured, love which is the most real thing that we shall ever meet, reappeared now as the world's enemy, and she must stifle it."

"She disliked confidences, for they might lead to self-knowledge and to that king of terrors--Light."

"Yes, for we fight for more than Love or Pleasure, there is Truth. Truth counts."

Interview Thoughts

I have an extended set of interviews tomorrow. I may get to work with a bunch of engineers, who I hope would all be quirky and nerdy so I'd feel at home. Speaking of nerdy, I am excited about the possibility of Excel charts and PowerPoint presentations.

I plan to exploit the cuteness. It doesn't feel as wrong as it sounds.

We will see what happens.

Burn on re-entry

I hear good lines in movies, or songs, and I want to put them on Facebook statuses, to have somebody know I heard it and see if maybe somebody else has heard it and picks up on it. Or I want to post another video (how much do I love Rascal Flatts' "Every Day" just now? oh, well, I couldn't find a karaoke track for that anyway). Or I want to send a quick note to somebody and I don't have her email address.

Except....

I still want to pull back a bit. I want to pare down. And I don't know...is there a polite way to unfriend somebody? I mean, we do it all the time in real life without really worrying about etiquette. All you have to do is stop talking. Easy. It's the making time for people that takes work, anyway.

But something about actually deleting them off a screen seems harsher, even if I never talk to that person in real life. Maybe it only feels that harsh because they can tell I'm doing it. I've done my fair share of reassigning people to nebulous categories in my IM programs. "Ha, shows you, person who probably wouldn't even care what I'm doing if you knew, you're not in the 'Buddies' category anyMORE!" (Despite the presence of my mom's genetics, I'm not the sweetest person you've ever met. Nicest thing somebody ever said to me regarding this: "Yeah...sweet doesn't really do it for me.") 

And what happens when I maybe start talking to them more, and want to friend them, and now they're getting a friend request, although they previously friended me? Or what if they think I'm still off Facebook and then they see me post on a mutual friend's wall, and try to write to me and can't? Awkward.

Maybe I should restrict my account to former classmates/co-workers and some other people I don't see on a regular basis. Hm. 

The return plan is clearly still a work in progress.

Things that make me happy

This morning, in my first grade Sunday School class

Me:          "Joshua, any prayer requests?"

Joshua:   "Nope. But you got a hair cut."

William: "Heyyyy, yeahhhh...."

I always like reactions to a hair cut, but this one might be my favorite ever. I love my first graders.

I am excited about this book.

First of all, it is by Kevin DeYoung. Second, it has just about the longest title ever: Just Do Something: A Liberating Approach to Finding God's Will, OR How to Make a Decision Without Dreams, Visions, Fleeces, Open Doors, Random Bible Verses, Casting Lots, Liver Shivers, Writing in the Sky, etc. Third, as somebody who's always wanted to wait until she was 100% sure of being 100% right before she actually made a major decision, and who has thus been shoved out of the nest a LOT (e.g. going to college, living with my sophomore year roommate, staying in Grand Rapids, getting a job, leaving the job), I am tired of masking my fear of being wrong or being hurt as "wanting to be sure it's God's will."

I can't take that job. It might not be God's will.

I can't date that person. It might not be God's will.

I can't think about moving. It might not be God's will.

Yeah? For real, Suzanne? You think you're so big and bad you can thwart the will of the almighty God? That maybe He'll have turned His back for a moment, turn around, and be all, "Oh, no, I had the perfect job/man/place for you, and you settled! How could you? I guess there's nothing I can do about it now!"

Here's a quote from the book that a reviewer posted on Amazon.com: "So go marry someone, provided you're equally yoked and you actually like being with each other. Go get a job, provided it's not wicked. Go live somewhere in something with somebody or nobody. But put aside the passivity and the quest for complete fulfillment and the perfectionism and the preoccupation with the future, and for God's sake start making some decisions in your life. Don't wait for the liver-shiver. If you are seeking first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, you will be in God's will, so just go out and do something."

I'm excited. Let's do this.

English Abroad

Deep down, squelched under as it is by statistics, is the part of me that is attracted to the early 1900s British notion that going on an Italian holiday would bring about life-altering change. Leaving behind familiar things and the people who know you, or who think they do; being surrounded by people who live from the heart instead of the head; coming face-to-face with yourself and discovering what sort of person you really are underneath the dust of routine; being truthful, absolutely truthful, even if it's strange and awkward and frightening; releasing yourself to recognize and to feel all your emotions; becoming so real it changes everything and everyone you run across.

Maybe it's silly and fluffy and unintellectual, but there it is. Beneath all the accumulated life experience, part of me still believes in Italy.

Character Sketch

This is how life works. 

He tells you he is in love with you, and he looks so sincere, so vulnerable, that your heart catches in your throat. This thing you have told yourself isn’t really a flirtation is suddenly on an entirely different level. You retreat, try to make sense of this new development, try to put things back into some semblance of order. You try to get your breath back, and then he’s taking it away again and your brain is worthless for anything. 

You hesitate, and your chance is lost. 

It isn’t him, you tell him, but then for once truthfulness kicks in and you admit that it might be, that you’re not really sure but that you’re sure this isn’t working like this. He asks if there’s somebody else, and you hesitate again, and he knows what that means. Then he asks who he has to be for you, and you say you don’t want him to have to be anything. He cries, which surprises you, but you’re halfway out the door already. 

You can do more than you thought possible.

Every day your cell phone is close at hand, as you wait for messages that never come, wait for him to realize you were just confused, wait for him to try again, wait to be brave. One day he walks back into your life, and you think this is it, but then you see in his eyes that he’s still a few hundred miles away. You smile encouragingly, you hug enthusiastically, you pretend to understand when he brushes you off. You figure he needs time to adjust, too. Then he tells you he’s seeing somebody else, and it seems he’s already found a way to adjust. 

You are absolutely sure of something, and then your world comes down around your ears. 

You sit at home, wondering if he is with her, and how it is he could say he was in love with you, throw your world into confusion, and then get over you so fast. You wonder if he’s really over you, and you tell yourself not to be silly, that he has to be, because surely if he was into you for those years you were unavailable he would be there when he knew you broke things off. Especially since he knew when you broke them off. You think there must be something in him that wanted what he couldn’t have—that maybe that was the attraction. But then if is he with her now, maybe it was really something in you that drove him away. You sit chasing your thoughts around and around, getting nowhere except lower.

You’ll never figure out someone else’s motivations by staying in your own head.

You are tired of living this strange different life, tired of being ignored, or—worse—treated with the utmost politeness. You struggle to remember what being wanted feels like, and when he asks you to dance it feels close enough, so you push aside all the reasons you left and you say yes.

It’s hard to change. 

When you hear them talking about you, hear what they say when you’re not around to know, it’s like meeting yourself for the first time. Late into the night, you stand staring into your mirror, looking for honesty and courage in the pale, tear-streaked face. You haven’t looked into your own eyes this deeply in ages, maybe in forever. Then, behind the passivity towards circumstances and people, behind the fear of change and the fear of your poor pathetic self, somewhere past all of that you see a spark of something more. Of someone more. And in a sudden rush you realize that you are not bound for all time to be what you have been. 

The truth hurts and frees and starts to heal all at once. 

You try for a fresh start, and it explodes in your face. You try to change, and life fights against you. But you fight back, and you look for fresh starts everywhere, and even when things don’t go as you plan you own them, and you know that one day all of these day-to-day sketches and classroom still-lifes are going to break forth as art. And you’re going to be breaking through with them. 

Your life is what you make it.

Homesick

I just spent a week at home with my parents. It was a good week, relaxing and yet with an odd feeling of productivity to it nonetheless. I don't know that I could recount a long list of accomplishments, but neither did it feel like I was squandering my time. (Maybe it was something about sharing it.)

I have a Lost viewing planned for tonight, and a meeting tomorrow afternoon, and then an interview, and Smallville tomorrow night (plus Jeopardy, maybe, and I'm going to let my hopes go up for that; forget you, statistics), and lunch with a former coworker this Friday before another evening out. I have friends here. I have a life here. 

Part of me wants to pack up and turn around and go back. I'm happy in Grand Rapids. But then I go to the other home, and that fits, too.

Kind of hard sometimes, having roots and wings.

Two Voices

He doesn't want you to be happy. Can you remember him ever saying he did? No, little fool, he wants you to be holy, not happy. Let's do a quick NASB word search: "happy" appears fourteen times, "holy" appears over five hundred and fifty times. See? Statistically speaking, "holy" wins.

Yeah, sure, you like to say that his glory and your good are the same, but then he talks large scale and so that means good on a cosmic level. Like in a big picture other-side-from-this-life way. For now, holy misery is what he's after. For you, anyway.

Because, really, look around. You know some people with screwed up lives or health problems or whatever, but most people like where they are and what they're doing. You don't get to. You're going to be trapped in mediocrity for years because you're lazy, and you're too late (good grief, almost thirty, how many works of literature had Jane Austen published by thirty?), and you're not better at anything than anybody. There's always somebody better than you, somewhere in the world. Grace, love, blahblahblah, all of life is competition, really, and you're not tier one material.

What he probably wants is for you to take a long series of dead-end jobs, at less and less pay because you're horrible at negotiating and all that business stuff. Then maybe eventually he'll have you break down and get married to the first person who'll have you. This guy'll be boring and uninspiring and passionless and you'll be able to run circles around him in every way and the only reason he'll take you is because you're not the dating kind (the fun kind), you're the marrying kind (the kind you settle for because you're desperate and you're tired of hearing about eHarmony). But hey, that's holy misery for you.

He wants to bless you, sure, sure. Spiritually. Growth is pain. Life is pain, princess. Don't let anybody sell you different.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Get behind Me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to Me, for you are not setting your mind on God's interests, but man's. 

Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

For whoever wishes to save his life shall lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake shall find it. 

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. 

Do not be anxious then, saying 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'With what shall we clothe ourselves?' For all these things the Gentiles eagerly seek; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious for tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. 

Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it shall be opened. Or what man is there among you, when his son shall ask him for a loaf, will give him a stone? Or if he shall ask for a fish, he will not give him a snake, will he? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask him! 

Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. 

(Matthew 16:23, 14:27b, 5:4, 5:6, 16:25, 6:19-21, 6:31-34, 7:7-11, 11:28)

I'm not ready for this....

I've been applying to staffing agencies, and today I heard about three different job offers. I refused all of them on the basis of salary/commute issues, but...staffing agencies are going to be calling me. I hadn't even really thought about that, despite my applications. Everybody keeps saying there are no jobs in Michigan, and here I got three offers in a day and refused them all. (All justified rejections under the rules of MI UIA as I understand them.) These jobs can go to three other unemployed people, but am I being reasonably reserved or am I being way too stuck up about jobs? Are the agencies going to start hating me for being picky?

Financially, I'm okay on unemployment for a while. Do I take the first job that comes along (obviously I haven't, but the first job that comes along after I catch my breath), even if my heart is sinking, or do I hold out, knowing as I do that few job descriptions sound exciting to me?

I'm not ready to go back to work. There it is. I feel like I should feel worse about that, but I don't want to be back in an office. 

I'm afraid of being trapped for years doing something that doesn't excite me, or of job-hopping in the hopes of finding something I enjoy (one of those things I internally mocked other people for...figures I'd understand it eventually). I'm afraid of getting a job and finding the environment is as tense as it was at my old place of employment for the past year or so. I'm afraid of picking Door #1 when I should have waited for Door #2, or passing on Door #2 when it turns out there is not Door #3. I'm afraid of leaving a job on purpose more than I am of being laid off, of finding something better a week after I found a job (this happened to me last time). 

Pause. Collect yourself. You're going to have to go back into the trenches sooner or later. Settle. Prepare. 

It is good.

In these last days, it is good to know that people like Brooke and Chelsea exist--women thoroughly in love with God in a way that makes me holy jealous, that pulls me inward and onward--good to drink their faith through their words, to sense peace settling down through the reminders that I am not alone (reminders that I need, huddling Elijah-like in the desert watching dust devils).

It is good to hear you speak of Him, to share your delight in Him and your struggles with Him, Brooke and Chelsea and all of you who speak in this way, as though all of life should be consecrated (it should) and the hugest problems were dwarfed by His surpassing greatness (they are). 

Rest peacefully, heart, in every circumstance. Strengthen your song with every iteration. You are by no stretch of the imagination really truly alone.

Psalm 116 Thoughts

When plans realign in minor ways (something like "can we meet Tuesday instead of Monday?"), the gears in my brain screech uncomfortably. There is often a moment when I barely know where I am, barely know how to react, and I have to reach deep down and do triage. Too many zigzag changes too close together and I whiplash into a decision I regret later.

Being unemployed at almost thirty is a major plan realignment for me. I am not depressed about the mere fact that I will be turning thirty a month from tomorrow. I am not missing my old job. But I am finding, as a friend who turned thirty last year told me then (you know who you are), that unsettling feelings are rising about where I thought I would be now. I don't think I would be dealing with this if I weren't unemployed, honestly. If I weren't looking for jobs, maybe I wouldn't feel so trapped in employment monotony stretching on beyond my line of sight. ("Bend in the road. There's no bend in my road, I can see it stretching straight out in front of me to the skyline." -- Katherine Brook) Or maybe I'd just be...not dealing. After all, repressing and/or ignoring difficult things is a personal specialty of mine.

I'm in mourning for my plans, my vision for my future that hasn't happened. It's easier to bury hope where it can't hurt you, easier to brush it off as a weakness or even a sin (wanting something you don't have? weak, ungrateful, selfish woman!), but I think it's more honest to mourn, and months ago I asked God to help me be more honest, even if it hurts. (Some days it seems like that was a stupid request.)

Psalm 116 balances gratitude that God hears the psalmist's voice with the recognition that the reason it is good to be heard is because life can be distressing and sorrowful. The verse I'm most familiar with is 116:15--"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His godly ones." I used to think this was meant just as a verse about how when God's people die they go to be with Him forever, free from sin and sorrow, and that delights God. While that's true, the psalm also says "I shall walk before the Lord in the land of the living" (116:9).

It isn't only the physical death that is precious. The lesser deaths (often feeling greater because of the sheer number of times you pass through them) are precious to God, too. The deaths to self in the acknowledgement of brokenness and the cries for help. In surrendering dreams into the hands of God, to be returned if He chooses and maybe even asked for with regularity (to want something you don't have is to be vulnerable; hope can be a death, too). In taking God at His word and clinging to a promise as yet unrealized. In all the deaths you walk through as you walk before the Lord and cast more and more velveteen layers at His feet.

Tonight in choir we sung "Blessed Be Your Name." The lyrics aren't chipper and easy. It's a hard song, about turning all things over to God as praise even when the blessings aren't obvious and when pain saturates the offerings of praise we lift before Him. Here, in this time, this is the song of my heart. When it comes down to it, this is all I have:

You give and take away

You give and take away

My heart will choose to say

Lord, blessed be your name

I love the Lord, because He hears

My voice and my supplications.

Because He has inclined His ear to me,

Therefore I shall call upon Him as long as I live.

   ~~ Psalm 116:1-2

The Angels Sing

I've spent the past seven or eight years in somewhat of a rut, on a whole lot of levels. I see my life as a small one, and I don't often see myself as important, in the grand scheme of things. 

Yesterday, I started thinking: What if I were to die tonight, and when I got to heaven I apologized to God for not using what he gave me, not making the most of my opportunities for life and career advancement? 

"Lord, I sat processing spreadsheets and answering telephones for years, and there were many times I failed to treat people as I wanted to be treated, and many times I let myself fall to gossip. Lord, I wore down the same ruts of behavioral patterns over and over, obsessing over things that didn't matter and trying to find my happiness outside of you. Lord, there were so many false starts and rabbit trails in my life and I think I missed your will along the line."

I wondered if maybe the answer would be something like:

"Almost all of those things are true, but they are not the only true things. 

"There were times when you apologized to a co-worker for snapping at her, or when you swallowed your bitter words unspoken. There are times you did think before you spoke, or even before you emailed. You hated that obsessing more fully, mourned it more deeply, each time you trod what felt to you like the same ground. Your heart broke a thousand times and you moved from seeking to wound as you had been wounded to seeking to swallow the shards so nobody else would be hurt. 

"All of those things you did for me...and the angels sang. 

"As for the rabbit trails and false starts...didn't you catch glimpses, even then, that you weren't aiming for a destination, but a person? You didn't miss it. You didn't miss me. Your life didn't fall outside of my will. I had you in my hands the whole time."

What if the grand scheme of things isn't what I think it is? What if I have the little things and the big things reversed?

"On that day they will say to Jerusalem,

'Do not fear, O Zion;

do not let your hands hang limp.

The Lord your God is with you,

he is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

he will quiet you with his love,

he will rejoice over you with singing.'"

~~ Zephaniah 3:16-17

Sexual Sanity

That is the title of a conference that some people I know have been promoting. I am not going to this conference. Wouldn't have even if I didn't get an email today clarifying that the female speaker is going to address married women. Why? Because talks on that subject are depressing. 

This is the sort of thing I usually hear (DISCLAIMER--it might not be what is actually said): Men are all sex-obsessed and can't keep their eyes in their heads. If a woman shows any skin or wears clothes that aren't baggy, she is putting the spiritual health of all men at risk. As for women, what they need to hear is primarily how to help men, because men are the ones who have trouble with sexual sin and the odds that women might have any difficulty viewing sexual issues in a balanced and godly way are so low as to be negligible. (I've heard this logic somewhere besides the OPC...hm...where would that have been?)

I always come away thinking, "Okay, okay! I would hate to lead men into sin! I will wear potato sacks if I have to!" and then, "This is probably why I'm not married, because apparently 'men,' and I use the term loosely, don't even look at women who are wearing potato sacks." Oh, the dilemma.

If the only choices are leading men into sin or perpetual singleness, it isn't a choice for me. I'll be single until I die, no sweat. It is easy because I don't want anybody to sin and because I would only ever want to be married to a man, anyway. And to me, anybody who chooses to be restricted and defined by his sin is not living as a real man.

I come away mourning for the ideal of Biblical manhood that is apparently never reached, the stories I don't hear about the men who don't struggle with sexual sin 24/7/365, or who fight on a daily basis and are victorious, or who have fallen and repented and been forgiven. The men who look for spiritual beauty above physical beauty and are able to value and celebrate the latter more fully because the former is present. The men who put God above their appetites. Where are the men?

And I have to stop and list them. My dad. My brother. My grandfathers and other relatives. My friends who have protected me over the years in more ways than one, especially the friends who have shown a high degree of respect towards me and other women. The men who make me proud to be their sister in Christ, who make my heart sing out to God in gratitude that He is indeed bringing His kingdom.

The men are there.

And the women...we have our problems, too.

Way deep down, underneath all our manifest differences, underneath all the conferences targeted one way or the other, we have the same core problems. And the same solution.

Good Idea, Bad Idea

Good Idea: Leaving your trash by the curb.

Bad Idea: Leaving your trash by the curb if it's a box for something like a 32" LCD TV. I feel that's like putting a "please rob me" sign on your lawn. But maybe that's just me being ignorant. Maybe criminals don't even bother to go for anything under 42" anymore.

Facebook Sabbatical Update

(In case you swing by again, Zo.) 

On April 8, I deactivated my Facebook account. Have I found other ways to procrastinate? Ohhh, yes. Do I miss Facebook? Not really. 

I almost feel guilty about how much I don't miss Facebook, like I dropped a lot of friends and don't care. In fact, Facebook is great at trying to guilt you out when you deactivate your account. "So-and-so will miss you," they say, and maybe some people believe them. 

Okay, I did get an email today from somebody who said she missed seeing me on Facebook. I doubt most people have noticed I left, or would have noticed if they hadn't heard from me. But that's the kind of obsessive "is so-and-so missing me? thinking about me? ever recalling my existence if I'm not forcing it on them?" weakness that I was trying to back away from by deactivating the account. It's also an example of how the people who want to contact you will find ways to contact you.

This morning I logged in to look up a few email addresses and AIM handles. I scrolled through my five pages of "friends" to see if I needed info on them. I almost wrote down a few email addresses and then stopped myself, thinking, "s/he would probably be weirded out to get an email from me. " And although I know there is plenty of room in this world for casual friendships, and people you don't see on a regular basis but enjoy seeing when you do meet, I don't know that I want to have casual friendships via internet, yet one more step removed from intentionality. Especially not with those people I share a city with. I know that for me it is a comfortable copout to inquire after people on Facebook when I brush past them in church hallways with barely any eye contact. 

Will I be a regular Facebook user again someday? I'm not as sure that I will as I once was. Certainly not as enthusiastic about it. It feels kind of like a trap I escaped. I have considered the possibility of reactivating someday and deleting all of the people I see on a regular basis, along with the people I don't see but feel weird enough contacting even via a social networking site. We'll see.

All of which is starting to remind me of something I wrote last September:

Computer screens

Telephones

Instant

Convenient

Our lives in degrees of separation

I try to fit you into my schedule

When and where and how I want you

But secretly I like it when

You burst into my life

Whether or not it works for me

College-era throwback, early-onset mid-life crisis, or something else?

People keep asking how the job search is going, and I don't know how to answer. It feels like an emotional land mine--a casually-meant question that edges closer to dangerous ground than the questioner is aware--and I've found my perimeter defenses kicking into action.

I spent over seven years doing something that as a child I told myself I would never, never do (a desk job! horrors!), and I'm afraid of getting into another rut like that. And my latent idealism is reactivating. I'm getting all these ideas about working for a nonprofit, of doing something creative on the side, of trading a "dependable" income for job satisfaction.

People are staring at me blankly a lot when I do say these things, and I feel like I've given the wrong answer on a test, or that (worse) maybe they see through me and don't think I've got it in me to follow through. (Do I?)

I know what I want, but I don't know if I want it enough. Or if it even matters what I want. Maybe I'm just an angsty, overly-enabled middle-class American white girl with the luxury of introspection who needs to get over herself. Maybe that's comfier to believe than any of the alternatives.

How's the job search going? Well, my resume is on Monster and CareerBuilder and CalvinLink and I've got a few leads I'm following up on and I'm learning how to write resumes and cover letters and I went to a practice interview and I know for sure I don't want to do 100% commission sales and I have more surface information to throw at you if you want or is that already more than you wanted to know?

I love E.M. Forster...

...and so far I love A Room with a View best. I'd post some quotes, but we're reading it for book club and I have a strict "no spoilers" policy, so I won't.

I'm taking lots of notes because I am reading it so early in the cycle...my book club doesn't meet for over three weeks yet. I couldn't wait. I had read it once before and was so excited to read it again I had to start right away.

Oh, how I love this book. Read it and then let's discuss! 

Hey, big spender

I went to Meijer today and bought groceries for the first time since March 20 (it is an ongoing experiment, seeing how little I can spend...and I was out of town for a week and a half, and I had a lot of stockpiled food from before the layoff, so it's not like I've been starving). I was only planning to buy some fruits and vegetables, but I have been eating granola bars for breakfast every morning and getting a little tired of them, so I broke down and bought milk and cereal. 

I feel like such a spendthrift, but then again, milk sounds like a major luxury after four weeks.

Remote Control

There are no buttons on my life. I've checked. 

No matter how much I've wanted to pause a moment like I had today, standing on the bridge over the Calvin Seminary pond and feeling the breeze and beautifully existing in that place, I can't (today, my business-shoe-clad feet started to hurt).

No matter how much I've wanted to fast-forward until I get to the good parts, past all of this uncertainty and fumbling around, I can't. (Over ten years ago, I read an essay in which the author pointed out that if life was like a movie, we'd miss everything but about two hours of it.)

Mostly, though, I don't dwell on the fact that I can't pause or fast-forward my life. Mostly, I want to rewind. I want to rewind so strongly that I almost believe it possible, that I start running scenarios in my mind about how I'm going to do things differently when I get a second chance. But there are no second chances. Not like that. Opportunities pass.

If only I knew then what I know now. I would have made a different choice. If I had known that person cared what I had to say, I wouldn't have said what I did say. If I had thought they cared where I was, I would have been there. 

There is plenty of room to delve into my assumptions that sometimes the people in my life don't care what I say or do, but today, thinking about rewinding a recent situation, this thought occurred to me: "Make sure you don't become a source of regret on that front."

Want people to be there? Tell them. Appreciate people? Tell them. Expect people to know something, but they aren't picking up on it? Tell them.

Life is too short to live it passive-aggressively. Tell them.

there is only so much time

that the window is open wide

and then you watch it close

before you could decide

~~ Rachel Zylstra

Waiting on and for and in You

Search me and know my heart, O God. Direct the path (wherever it leads); open the doors (whichever they are). Guide me, O thou great and mighty Jehovah.

Here am I. You know me more than anyone ever could, more than even I ever will. You have not given a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, hope, and a sound mind. (Not a mind in turmoil, but a heart at peace.)

Send me.

Libation

this isn't quite the thing

smiling and raising of holy hands more

easily interpreted from the outside

but here we are

(a really good love story always makes me cry and

amazing

you love me

you love me

you love me)

tears speak to you like tongues

and if weeping were to endure forever

this would be the way to do it

(but it won't last forever

a promise that is part 

of the reason it happens now)

today

tomorrow

always until then

oceans of sorrow and joy poured out before you

may they be pleasing in your sight

my strength

my redeemer

Fish, not snakes

hasn't God said

he wants you to be holy

trials produce great gain

life here is difficult

hasn't he said

joy not happiness

desires of your heart, sure

if they're the right ones

if you're doing it the right way

hasn't he asked you to ask him

and have you

have you asked him lately

asked him often

beaten down his door

hasn't he said he's already given you everything you need

who are you to want more

don't you think he's busy with bigger things

beyond handouts

the voice is dusty with familiarity

the smile is not the shepherd's

the teeth the better to eat you with

and you haven't said happiness, Father,

but I fell broken over that corner stone long ago

and I refuse resist reject that after that

you mean to crush me like dust

World readership

One of the rather egotistical sorts of things I like to do after I've "published" a fanfiction is to go to the site and see the readership broken down by visitor country. (This is after I go see how many people have read it in general and wonder why so few of them have bothered to leave me a review. Yeah, it's nerdthetic.) So far, my latest fic (check it out if you want, but beware of Smallville spoilers) has had readers from the following, listed in order of number of hits:

USA

UK 

Canada 

Australia

France

Brazil

Germany

Philippines

Italy

Belgium

Turkey

Chile

Ireland

Norway

Indonesia

India

Austria

Croatia

Poland

Mexico

Finland

Bosnia

Argentina

Guam

Malta

Russia

Latvia

Puerto Rico

Pakistan

Netherlands

Switzerland

China

UAE

Venezuela

Greece

Dominican

Denmark

Guiana

Slovenia

Sweden

Czech Revar

Malaysia

Spain

I mention this because it's the most impressive list of countries I've seen yet--43, and that's not counting the mysterious unmarked country that I didn't note on the list. It speaks more to the popularity of Smallville fanfiction in general than to my own personal popularity, but still. It's pretty cool to see someone in Latvia, which sounds a lot like somewhere Dr. Doom would live, has read my work.

UPDATE: There are 56 countries total listed in the visitors to all my fics for the month of April. That represents over a quarter of the countries in the world. Including Iran. Whoa.

What you want

"You already know what you really want, we all do. We just don't listen." -- Chloe Sullivan 

In general, I believe that. We confuse ourselves. We rationalize away the things we really want. Maybe sometimes for good reasons, but maybe it's still best to step back and raise the mental fog and take a good hard look at the things we want and don't have, and at why we don't have them yet. Because that feeling like your brain is going to overload and explode? Maybe that's what happens when you lie to yourself. Maybe the frustration is less related to your circumstances than it is to your reactions to them. 

"These excuses, how they've served me so well 

 They've kept me safe 

 They've kept me stuck 

 They've kept me locked in my own cell" 

-- Alanis Morissette

Or as my dad (a far more reliable source for wisdom than either Chloe or Alanis) put it in his pre-college advice that stuck with me more than any other advice I ever remember getting: "If you want something and don't get it because you didn't try for it, you have nobody to blame but yourself. If you tried your best and didn't get it...well, you tried your best."

Okay. 

Let's try for a few things.

Logical Limitations

I admire the Vulcan race. Often seen by outsiders (or non-Trekkies) as emotionless beings, the reverse is actually true. Vulcans are intensely emotional beings, who over their history found that their capacity for negative emotional outbursts was great enough to pose a danger to their entire civilization. A visionary named Surak founded a philosophical system based on meditation and self-control, which reigned in these emotions to such an extent that nearly all emotional expression was curtailed, to find an outlet only once every seven years.

The Vulcan system is indeed based on a certain despising of emotion, but that is due to the pendulum effect, a phrase I may or may not have just invented, in which the reaction to an extreme position is to take an extreme position as far away from the original as possible, often while failing to recognize that the central point is the same. (In this case, the central point would be "emotions are powerful," and the two diametrically opposed postions would be to embrace emotions completely or to shun emotions completely.)

Sometimes, stuck in the same familiar emotional ruts I've worn down to bedrock, I forget that this is not how the Holy Spirit works, that there is no sitting back and waiting for me to master my emotions, to exert self-control so powerful that nothing can touch me except for those regularly scheduled times when the world explodes.

But then sometimes, traveling the same worn-out roads, I forget how it is that the Holy Spirit does work, how it is that he can be working even when I don't see any progress, even when I see the same feelings flaring up that have been flaring up for a lifetime with no sign of stopping.

I suspect that life is not illogical, but rather extralogical--beyond logic, outside of the grasp of logic, larger than logic alone. Life is not to be found in logic, but rather what undergirds it: logos. Word made flesh. Dwelling with us. (The strain on the central point of the pendulum would be unbearable if it were anything other than divine in nature.)

How then shall a would-be Vulcan live?

Facebook Sabbatical

Lately I have been feeling the dangerous lure of casting myself backwards into the abyss of the internet, and have been trying to work out how I'm going to deal with it this time. (Last time I felt it this strongly I got all confessional and it got really, really ugly and my life sort of imploded around then, so it's not a scenario I'm anxious to repeat.)

Today I deactivated my Facebook account, for lots of reasons that are kind of hard to explain but that relate to the above paragraph and involve big issues with how I relate to people. I could go for the easy "it's because it's sucking up my time and I'm on it way too much when I should be looking for a job," but that is only part of the answer, and even that can tie back in to people issues.

I'm disappointed that all I have to do to reactivate my account is sign in again. There should be more hoops to jump through, or maybe a quiz to take based on your reason for leaving. In my case, since under reason for leaving I marked "Temporary; I'll be back," the quiz would ask me about whether or not my time away had lived up to all I was hoping for it, and if I was really ready to come back yet. Or maybe instead of a quiz my computer could be rigged to play something really obnoxious when I tried to log back in, like anything by Kanye West.

As it is, this is a job for an under-used asset: willpower. Hopefully, this will spill over into how and what and why I write on this blog. And how many times I check my email inbox or my instant message program looking for some kind of validation. And how open I am and why with which friends.

Goodnight, dear void.

Ruining it forever

"These Days," by Rascal Flatts, is the second biggest stalker song I know. (The undisputed winner, of course, is "Every Breath You Take.") Rob Paravonian says that "if you listen to the lyrics of a pop song, it'll ruin that song forever." Well, it isn't only true for pop songs.

Have you ever heard "These Days"? It's a plaintive, romantic ballad about a man who hasn't forgotten his first love. Except that his first love left. Apparently a while ago. Because since the last time he saw her she has graduated from college, moved to Vegas, and married a rodeo cowboy. "Wow," he says, "that ain't the girl I knew." No kidding. Because you haven't seen her in years. She ain't the girl you knew. 

But the really stalkish thing about the song is that it's written as a first-person monologue directed to the woman in question. And the scenario is that they've met randomly in an airport. And when they meet randomly in this airport, he (knowing both that he hasn't been in contact with her for years and that she's married) spills his guts about how he's still not over her, how he cries about her when he wakes up and dreams about her when he falls asleep, how he listens to their song and checks his phone messages in case she left him one.

There is one line in the song that gives a hint to the woman's point of view on this scenario: "Well, hey, girl, you're late, and those planes, they don't wait." (Translated from the polite brushoff, "I'm running late and my plane is leaving really soon" means "I didn't initiate this contact and have no desire to prolong it. I am so thankful for a ready-made excuse right now I could almost cry.") 

He asks her to stop by next time she's in town, to visit an old friend. Sure, that sounds like an appropriate thing for a married woman to do, drop by for quality time with a high school or college boyfriend who still professes devotion. Smart. Not awkward at all.

Let it go and move on, protagonist of "These Days." Your "girl" obviously did.

What's your favorite stalker song?

P.S. For anybody who was wondering, I didn't go in for the third interview. Started praying about it and the second sentence turned out to be "Give me the strength to say 'No,'" which was odd considering I hadn't known that was what I was going to be saying at all.

Honestly?

Sometimes I want a husband just so I have somebody to push decisions on. 

"Should I pursue this insurance agent job even though it means working all on commission and doing things that sort of scare me and a huge learning curve and a whole lot of work hours, especially at the beginning?" I would say, and he would say, "No, that's a bad idea, I'd rather you didn't go to work at all because I make enough money so that you can stay home and keep the house clean and cook and write and visit other friends who are at home during the day" or "Yes, you should do it, I believe in you and you are capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for and no matter what happens I'll always have your back." (Either way, I think you have to admit my imaginary husband is a pretty sensitive and amazing person.)

As things are...well, if they offer me a job after my upcoming Round Three interview, I figure I should have something better to say than, "Wow, I didn't expect you to like me this much and thus am completely unprepared with a response. My mom is hesitant about me working on commission and maybe going into seedy neighborhoods, can you speak to that?"

Tomorrow after I call them back, I think it's concentrated prayer time.

Secret Decoder Ring

Sometimes it seems like the big things in life are coded. There is a right way and a wrong way to do them and nobody tells you which is which until you're out of the running. "Oh, we would've been friends still, but after you said that I knew we couldn't keep it up." "Oh, we would've hired you if you had replaced the word 'helped' on your resume with the word 'assisted.'"

I (surprise, surprise) like to have the answers to codes or they are not fun. Tell me what you want, what you need, and I can be it. I'm about 97% sure of it. I'm also about 99% sure that I can't read your mind. (I try to shut the other 1% up because it usually gets me into trouble.)

I have an interview tomorrow. Part of me recognizes that I wouldn't want to be chosen for my acting skills unless it was for, you know, an acting job. Which it isn't.

The other part of me is digging for the prize at the bottom of the cereal box.

Joss Whedon definitely has his moments....

B: "Nothing's ever simple anymore. I'm constantly trying to work it out: who to love...or hate; who to trust. It's just like the more I know, the more confused I get."

G: "I believe that's called growing up."

B: "I'd like to stop, then, okay?"

     

G: "I know the feeling."

B: "Does it ever get easier?"

G: "You mean life?"

B: "Yeah. Does it get easy?"

G: "What do you want me to say?"

B: "Lie to me."

G: "Yes, it's terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and, uh, we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies and everyone lives happily ever after."

B: "Liar."

Buffy and Giles in "Lie to Me" (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Letting Go

No more latching on

grasping, clinging, taking

using you to mask my flaws

fill my heart

  (someone whispers that

   you will leave

   but he is a liar and has been from the beginning)

I'm loving you with open hands

come and go as He wills

as I shall

It's a declaration of intent, not achievement

but the intent is for my hands to snap trap-shut

less and less frequently

and for you to be always free of them

when they do

No wonder the term is Uncle Sam

From the online Michigan unemployment filing instructions: "Please explain in complete and specific detail all the reasons why you did not file for unemployment benefits in the first week you were unemployed. Please provide the details of the incident, including the beginning and ending dates."

Pop-up from the same page after I wrote what I thought was a concise yet thorough explanation: "Too much data in the text box! Please remove 356 characters" (and no, there was no period after the last word).

For the record, the U.S. Government apparently considers 250 characters (including spaces) to be enough room for "complete and specific detail."

I love random personality quizzes....

This was the best LOST personality quiz I've run across. The questions weren't too obvious. Sometimes you get quizzes with questions like: "Have you ever been unable to walk but then were miraculously healed?" And you're like, "Hm, I'll pick this one, maybe I'll be Charlie."

I took the Harry Potter quiz, too, but 95 out of 100 of those tests yield the same response, so I'm not even going to post the results. I will, though, post the results from the "Which Female Action Hero Are You?" quiz. Stay tuned.

Suzanne took the BrainFall.com quiz "Which Lost Character Are You?" and got the result "If I were in Lost, I would be part Sawyer and part Hurley."

You are part Sawyer. Quite the charmer, you can get almost anything you want with a smile. You are well liked and enjoy all the attention you get from others. You are definitely a sweet talker and have no problem finding a date on Saturday night. Although you have a busy social life, you also relish moments spent alone reading. You are fun, cool, and know how to get what you want out of life. 

You are part Hurley. You are everyone's best bud. Full of humor and wit, the people a

round you are always smiling. When someone has a bad day you are the first person they call. You usually keep your own problems hidden away because you don't want to be a downer. You have a lot to offer and are quite intelligent. Sometimes you get frustrated (but would never tell anyone) because people don't think to ask you for your opinion. But basically you're just what you seem- friendly and happy!

Suzanne took the BrainFall.com quiz "Which Female Action Hero Are You?" and got the result "If I were a Female Action Hero, I would be Princess Leia." You are Princess Leia. You are down-to-earth and stick to a rigid sense of ethics. Nerds may lust over you, but everyone looks to you for your grounded logic and intellect.

I want everybody who watches LOST to take the quiz and let me know who you are. I'm assembling a flight.

But about that job....

While I accept that it's good that I haven't been married yet (see previous post), it does mean that despite my childhood wish to be financially supported by somebody else by the time I was thirty, I have to support myself. I don't understand the economy. I don't understand hiring factors, and I don't know the secret words to make myself seem like a desirable commodity. I do not like being a commodity.

I understand the economy more in an agrarian setting. "What, you need tomatoes and you have potatoes you do not need? Why, that is the opposite of my dilemma. Come and we shall make an exchange." "I need to raise a barn and barns need wood. You need clothes and for that you will need animal fibers such as wool. This will work out nicely."

And I? I know no such useful things. I have little to no interest in cooking, even. I can write you stories and sing you songs and urge you to think and make you laugh, but mustn't everybody want to do those things? I feel like the things people should get paid for are the things I would hate, like driving trucks or doing math or being nurses. (Most times I forget that some people actually enjoy those things.)

So. Here is a list of things I enjoy. Maybe somebody out there reading this knows how to turn straw into gold...I mean, strong preferences into marketability. (I hate selling myself. Have I mentioned that?)

• Writing (but not journalism)
• Editing
• Children (but I don't have a degree in education or a desire to go back and get one)
• Reading (silently and out loud)
• Deep conversations
• Human interaction
• Acting/singing/performing of just about any kind
• Directing
• Organizing
• Spreadsheets
• Lists
• Witty banter
• Variety
• Museums
• Birds
• Making things more efficient

Anybody out there with a gift for figuring out what other people should do with what they have? 

Soulmate

As I look for and apply for jobs, I am remembering my career goals for the age of thirty: married to somebody fascinating, mother of several children, supporting my husband and family tactically (e.g. doing the laundry) and emotionally (e.g. "I believe in you, husband/kids"), and writing (always writing figures in somewhere).

When I was a girl of about eight I was such a huge fan of "somebody saaaaave me" helpless female scenarios that my parents were a little concerned. I told myself that I would probably be allowed to date when I reached fifteen (not that I had anybody in mind) and fantasized about what that would be like. In college I made lists, mental and otherwise, of the characteristics of "the perfect man," from his level of spiritual maturity down to his hair color. I believed in one true love and fairy tales and all of that.

Well, as Alanis says, life has a funny way of sneaking up on you. By my sophomore year  of college the interested "does Suzanne have a boyfriend yet" queries from family members who were amazed at how Suzanne could go a whole year without half the guys on campus falling in love with her stopped trickling through to me. I graduated with only a B.A. and no M.R.S., and there haven't been any close shaves since then, either. 

Not that my heart isn't still weak or that the old marriage fantasies don't resurface too frequently. Not that I haven't felt like just "being in love" would be fun, or interesting, etc. But nobody I've ever swooned over has ever done more than glance in my direction--at worst feeding off the flattery of my interest, at best never noticing it. This used to bug me. A lot. 

Now, when I'm quiet and listening like I was today, I realize how jealous God is for my heart, mind, and soul. "Life planned out? Here's a plot twist. Like that guy? Here's a girlfriend for him (it's not you). Looking for fulfillment? Here I am."

Because looking for fulfillment in the husband and family I'd envisioned was a hollow lie. Cast as fulfilling in and of themselves, they were idols, and no idol can bear the weight that only God can carry. I wouldn't have been much of a wife, either--you can't surrender yourself to the love of another without first surrendering yourself to the love of God. Unless he is your only hope to protect you, you will constantly be fighting to protect yourself. (This is not to say that nobody who marries before the age of thirty is truly connected to God, or that you can't learn about surrendering to God through the experiences of marriage. This is the way of my walk with him, not yours.)

Over and over again in my life I have pined for shadow men until I've replaced them with other shadow men. All loves remain until they are supplanted by a new love, a greater love. And there is no greater love than the love shown by one who lays down his life for his friends (John 15:13).

He saved me once for all when I was helpless. He could've marked me in the "redeemed" column and moved on, yet through the Spirit he is still there to save me every minute of every day, to remind me of his existence and his love. He has been with me my whole life and promises to be with me always. He is the only perfect man who ever lived, perfect in ways that transcend and transform outward appearance.

He is my one true love, and he is no fairy tale. And my beloved holds my destiny in his hands.

Lead on and come quickly, Lord Jesus.

A Quote

I love this book I am quoting from so much for being hugely challenging in such a helpfully Christ-centered way. I've been getting angsty over my place in the world when my little brother is married and the next wave of marriages are for people almost ten years younger than I am, etc., etc., whine, whine, you've read about it here on this blog before. Anyway, I figured it was time to re-read this book, and I was right. Way to serve up the perspective, Professor Smit.

I'm posting this particular quote because it resonates with thoughts I've tried to express in the past and haven't been able to find the right words for on my own. 

"Other relationships--such as those between children and parents or creatures and Creator--may legitimately begin with need, but they must not end there. If we really love our parents, we will eventually value them for themselves, not just for what they give us or do for us. If we really love God, we will eventually praise him for who he is, not just for what we can get from him. Ultimately, with all love--not just romantic love--we must see and value another person as a person, not just as one who meets our needs. We must interact with others as independent people who are ends in themselves, not means to the gratification of our needs. One woman told of her experience with a dating service. She ultimately decided it was a bad way to meet people because there was no context, because the person was being used as a means to dating. A dating relationship ought to emerge out of a relationship with a person."

-- from Loves Me, Loves Me Not: The Ethics of Unrequited Love, by Laura A. Smit

About Roommates

Sometimes I miss having a roommate. The idea is scary on many levels, considering my behavior towards some past roommates, the strain I sometimes feel even when spending long periods of time with family, and my hatred of moving. 

Back when I first moved to my current apartment, in October of 2001, my boss said, "You're screwing yourself over by living alone...if you ever get married, you'll be thinking 'What's that person doing in my space?'" He's right, not just about getting married but about sharing space with anybody. As my pastor once said, "When you live alone, you become more and more like yourself"--and not always in good ways. 

I'd be a pretty particular roommate. I don't mind a mess as long as it's mine. I don't mind company except when I want alone time. I don't mind cats or dogs as long as they aren't living with me. My current roommate, while beautiful, is also loud, jealous, spoiled, and sometimes violent, and he and I are a package deal.

So there are a lot of obstacles to me having a roommate. But then I remember high points, like dancing around the living room to Enya (and to the great amusement of our neighbor across the courtyard), or talking about anything at any time, or having somebody know and care where I was (some because of the posted schedules and some because they memorized them), or having somebody tell me when I was being a jerk and realizing after half an hour or so of pouting that she was right, or hearing the downpour outside and having somebody right there who also wanted to go run around in the parking lot.

Those parts I wouldn't mind having again someday.

Knowing as we are known

"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known." (I Corinthians 13:12)

I heard something rather terrifying yesterday. Something along the lines that women think they're complicated, but no woman is, because men know what they're thinking. Based on my own experience, I strongly doubt the universal veracity of the statement. But what if....

I don't know me all the way through, let alone have more than a working knowledge (sometimes no more than working suspicion) of anybody else. To me it is comforting to know that God knows me, that He can sort out all of the confusion swirling around inside of me so often, that He knows even the darkest parts of me and that Jesus covers those parts so they aren't a cause for shame.

If I didn't know that, I think the second best thing would be to know that if God saw the evil in me it would be judged, and that when the devil sees it he is after it. Because stranger than either the thought of God's forgiving love or His judgment, worse even than the devil's condemnation, is to be seen and known and dismissed. 

It's what I do. It's what you do. Every time we hear a cry for help, no matter how subtle, and turn the other way. Every time getting involved is somebody's life is a large time investment that we avoid. Every time I turn the TV louder instead of making a phone call, or writing a letter, or sparing a thought for another person on the whole planet besides myself.

So I hope it's not true, that people know more than they let on, but I fear it might be true, even just a little bit. And I can't think of anything more horrible than that somebody, myself included, might really see, really know...and just not care.

"If I have...all knowledge...but do not have love, I am nothing." (I Corinthians 13:2)

Not Easy

I am so sick of that phrase, of hearing it or seeing it lurk unspoken in someone's eyes. It's not easy to get a job. It's not easy to get into a field you like. It's not easy to do this, or that, or anything. When did this become news, anyway? Who ever thought life was easy?

I've lived "easy" for years, and I've felt increasingly ill at ease in spirit over it. I'm so tired of digging holes in the ground instead of investing what I've been given. I'm tired of wrapping self-sabotage and self-doubt around me like armor, because it's tin foil armor that protects from nothing, nothing at all.

If my only two choices really are spectacular failure or safe hiding, I want to go down blazing.

Let's Play Pretend

When Jeremiah and I were growing up, we were always playing pretend. Whether it was enacting scenarios with our action figures or having conversations as if we were members of the Ghostbusters (I was usually Venkman, he was usually Ray) or playing superheroes, I don't remember a day of my life growing up in which some playing pretend didn't feature.

This is what I love about theatre: the interaction of writer and actor, actor and actor, actor and audience, etc., etc. 

This is what I love about repartee: the verbal fencing match, the improvisational dance.

This is what I love about children: a suggestion like "you're a dog and I'm going to 'throw' this plate like it's a Frisbee" can be met by an enthusiastic response instead of a fake mature roll of the eyes.

I love playing.

Today I was a grown-up, discussing coupon clipping and ways of saving money like I knew what that was for more than one person. And I was a fun tomboyish big cousinly figure, twirling kids and chasing them and tossing them around. And for a moment I was Storm, summoning the winds. And all of these were play, in one way or another.

With my brother far away now, I'm always keeping my eye out for other people to play with. How do you like to play pretend? 

Doing Hard Things

I haven't had to do anything difficult, not really. 

School was easy. College was easy. I could and did get good grades without always putting my whole self into my work. 

I got all of my jobs except for one through temp agencies, and the one job I didn't get through a temp agency was offered to me by the employer, so applying was simply a formality.

I've never risked anything I was afraid of losing. I have rarely put myself on the line without a guarantee on the other side.

Guess I'm kind of a spoiled brat in a lot of ways. Guess this is as good a time as any to start getting my hands dirty.

Temptations

I am already seeing some of the temptations I will be up against in this season of unemployment.

• Moving from strong frugality to outright miserliness.
• 
  
• Accepting every request to join something or help with something that meets during the day.
• 
  
• Hyper-over-analyzing every job-related move I make: is this a good one to apply for? is it settling? what is that sinking feeling inside of me and should I trust it or move past it? what's the secret code I have to break on my resume or in my cover letter or in how I present myself that even gets me in the door?
• 
  
• Telling myself that I'm not all that special, that other people deserve to be hired more than I do, and that just as I was horrible at auditioning (a.k.a. only got cast twice) I will be horrible at interviewing.
• 
  
• Telling myself that my dreams of supporting myself financially through doing anything that I love are stupidly, childishly unattainable. No matter how much an increase in both deep-seated yearning and outside corroboration tell me that I should at least take a chance.
• 
  
• Settling back into miserable because I know the shape of it and so it feels safer. 
• 
  
• Allowing self-pity, less over being laid off from this job than over not having people to connect with during the day just by turning around.

Please pray. (And a cheery hello now and then wouldn't go amiss, either.)

Warning

If you're single and just got laid off and attend a missions conference, at least four people will tell you that you should probably go to China and help the missionaries there. This will be like how people have told you for years, "So-and-so just started coming to church here and he/she is single." (Quote from Tim Tjapkes when I voiced this yesterday: "You're single, and I'm single, so you see we have something in common. I was kind of afraid that once we got married we would have nothing else in common, but then it occurred to me that we would both be married, so it still works.")

I think God wants you to do hard things, no question. But I think He also puts a spark of desire somewhere in your heart when those hard things involve major life commitments. Maybe I just haven't had enough of my youthful idealism beaten out of me.

Oh, well. At least people didn't combine the missionary and marriage thing and tell me I should move to Chicago for the unmarried missionary who spoke. I was actually bracing myself for that.

Things to remember

• No, yesterday was not Saturday. No, today is not Saturday, either. Tomorrow is Saturday for real. Next is Sunday. And the next day will not be Saturday, even though I still won't be driving to work (this is the longest amount of time I've spent at my apartment without being sick).
  
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• A day does not naturally break into segments from 6:30-8 (pre-work), 8-12 (morning at work), 12-1 (lunch break), 1-5 (afternoon at work), and 5:00-10:30 (post-work).
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• By the way, work is not just something you get paid for or someplace you go, it's an attitude and a state of living. I don't have a paying job, but I am not out of work in anything beyond an idiomatic sense.
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• Life is more than food, the body is more than clothing, and existence both encompasses and rises above what you do. For over seven years I organized and streamlined and now all that is not just behind me, it will be leaving the place where I took care of it. The people who bought that division have their own systems and probably don't want my handy spreadsheets or hand-written labels. The value in those years is to be found both in and beyond the physical work, and right now I'm thinking it has more to do with how people were affected than how wallcovering shipped (although the two connected).
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It's a Wonderful Life

Being laid off feels a little like being in the last scene of It's a Wonderful Life, the one in which [spoiler alert] George Bailey's friends all rally around him and tell him how much he means to them and offer to help him any way they can. The first person I passed on the way in stopped me to tell me he was sorry I was leaving and that he appreciated everything I'd done and that I could use him as a reference. I had four other people volunteer themselves as references. I had emails and phone calls from co-workers who were saying nice things and asking if they could do anything and reassuring me that the past eight years of my life hadn't been a total waste. And when I accessed my personal email I had a whole slew of emails from people praying for me and offering assistance.

People keep saying they're sorry, which is kind of them. I will miss the paycheck, and I will miss the people more. But I won't miss that job. I won't miss the actual work involved (except in a glancing way...sometimes filing samples was mindlessly relaxing), and I won't miss the politics, and I won't miss the anxiety hovering over and around and in it.

For the past several months, I've had a growing desire to trust God more, to lay aside the restlessness of wondering what would happen, to be willing to take risks knowing that He is taking care of me. It was something that came to me strongly in October, as evidenced by this blog post from last November. I've been praying for complete trust, and I was telling my dad yesterday morning that I've noticed God tends to take those prayers seriously. He laughed, "And why do you think you even wanted to pray that way?" That floored me. God has been preparing my heart for this very situation before the potential loss of my job was even a fully-formed concern in my mind.

So here I am, God. I don't know what happens next, but I know you've been working it out. I'm rejoicing at the opportunity to lean hard on You and just beginning to understand for real that sometimes that means leaning on people, too (thank you for Your timing on the car problems).

I'm excited to see what's coming.

Half a step ahead

This afternoon I learned that tomorrow is my last day at the job where I've worked pretty much since college.

I am free.

Free is scary sometimes.

Speaking of free, I will be accepting all free meal offers. (Some things in life stay the same.)

Small problems or big God

When I'm feeling down about my life, when I'm missing people or losing my grip or feeling like I'm about to explode, I tell myself that I have no good reason for any of those things. My problems are small. Most often I am missing people because they are moving on in happy ways for them, and it's selfish to want them to keep coming back for me if we're on different paths. I am losing my grip because my faith is weak, and I can't see the forest for the trees. I am feeling about to explode because I am shallow and petty and out of control.

Other people have family members die or leave them (oh, and the only grieving that counts is grieving for a husband, a sister, a daughter, a mother...granddaughters and cousins and nieces don't have grief worth speaking of). Other people have cancer or heart disease or chronic pain from celiac or chronic fatigue syndrome or any number of things. Other people have lost their jobs, and they have large families to support so they really need jobs.

I've framed it as a question of perspective, and it is. But last night it occurred to me that it isn't perspective in the way I've framed it, the perspective of my problems vs. those of other people. It's my problems vs. God.

Is God really so small that He only has time for 'big' problems? Is He running around up in heaven barely able to handle all the cancer patients and unemployed fathers and grieving widows? Or does He know and care when a sparrow lands, and promise His children are worth far more to Him than birds?

On February 26, I took my car in for routine maintenance and heard that I needed more extensive repairs than I'd planned for. A lot more expensive. I was feeling very, very sorry for myself, and very poor. And then the next day I received an anonymous gift of money in the mail, with a note that said the sender had been feeling for several days as though this was something that God wanted done. And then my co-worker's brother-in-law looked at the car and said he could fix it for about 50% less than the original quote, and found a transmission fluid leak while he was at it that was caused by the way the routine maintenance was done and could have caused much greater damage if left undetected. And then I had to rely on other people for rides and got to spend quality time with them because of it and got to peek under the dark edge of my independence.

I don't know what is happening tomorrow. I barely know what is happening today. I can't see more than half a step ahead of me, and I hate that, but even through tears I know it's so good for me, because all I can do is hold my Father's hand tight, and look behind me, and see the points of illumination like the one burning around the recent service needs of my car, of all things.

Even though I can't see the path ahead, I know I walk in the light of the God who is there. And all problems, whatever their size, might turn to blazes of glory in the blink of an eye.

out of the bleakness
a flash
a fluttering
anxiety on all sides
deep down hope
strains
rises
pushes past the dark
dances
with the fear
it meets halfway
life, like love,
ever a surprise

Great Proficients

both of us sure

if it weren’t for the people we’d seen

mess it up

if it weren’t for the mess we knew

we could make on our own

if not for those and other

little reasons

if we’d chosen

if we’d wanted

we’d have been there by now

supremely confident

under cover of darkness

overnight

all the ifs boiled down to

if we weren’t so afraid

and can you get an if

much bigger than that

In a Relationship / It's Complicated

For those of you who don't know, the title of this post lists two options under "Relationship Status" in a Facebook profile. If you're Single or Married, everybody probably already knew that. If you're Engaged, people probably knew you were headed in that way. (And I've never seen anybody use the "In an Open Relationship" status. I'm not sure what that even means. "I'm dating fairly steadily but don't worry, I feel okay with dropping him/her at any time if you call me"?) So if you want to create a sensation, your best bet is to change your status to "In a Relationship" or "It's Complicated." 

I've seen this happen multiple times, and I'm always a little surprised by how many people go for it. I've thought about changing my Facebook status to "lonely and bored and need vaildation: please comment on this status," but haven't done it so far. Probably still wouldn't get as much buzz as I would changing my relationship status for the comments, even if the two meant the same thing.

When I first signed up for Facebook, I listed my relationship status as "It's Complicated." I live with a bird who seems pretty sure that I belong to him and who doesn't want to share, so it fit. After I started getting  questions on what that meant, and especially after one of my cousins went to her sister to find out about this mysterious person with whom it was apparently complicated, I blanked out the status.

Realistically, my status should read "In a Relationship," because I am in relationship with every person I interact with--friend, sister, daughter, granddaughter, teacher, employee, co-worker, pseudo-aunt, random acquaintance, etc. But "It's Complicated" would be appropriate, too, because life is complicated and so are relationships. 

I protest being defined by whether or not I'm dating/married/whatever, and I hope that's not for some angsty reason. I hope it is (and/or becomes more and more) for my stated reason. To paraphrase Paul: in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, single nor married. When I draw dividing lines, I don't want them to be based on something as small as relationship status.

Especially the Facebook version.