it does a body good.

not milk.  rest.  rest: it does a body good.   

it should be on billboards everywhere.

my dear little friend, Charly, was just reminding me of this.   rest.  Even God rested.  So who are we to think that we don’t need rest.

But that’s not it is it - we all know we need rest.  we just don’t rest.

why is it so hard for us to rest?

I’ve really been thinking about this recently - cause you see I remembe this whole needing to rest bit when I’m sick.  Because when I’m sick my body makes me rest, literally.   So incidentally I did a lot of resting last week.  Granted this week, ironically life had carry on and work had to get done, so resting and getting well has taken the back seat again. 

And I’m not the only one, who’s like this.  Why are so we thick (as Grandma would say).  Why do just not get this resting business.   

I can’t help but wonder that if I would actually remember to rest when I wasn’t sick, maybe I wouldn’t be sick in the first place.   

a little bit more information

so just in case you’re wondering … Jason Upton (I googled him so I could know who I had quoted on my last post) is a musician.   http://www.jasonupton.net/com/

Trying.

i was not created to know what i am doing,
i was created to rest in who i am.
jason upton

my friend Ali posts the most poignant quotes on her blog - and it seems that I always seem to click on them on the appropriate day.  Like this morning I was hanging out with one of my spiritual directors talking about this very thing: resting in who I am.   

not that it’s easy.

but it always makes me feel a bit better when there’s a "quote" that says what I’m trying at. Kinda like it makes it more real or more official.  Not that I know who Jason Upton is anyway

But needless to say as always, I’m trying.  I’m really trying.

Gravity

So apparently I have another reason to rest and lie down.

I woke up feeling better- better enough to get up and go to work even (I know some of you are saying, bad idea)

But then gravity says, "no. no. no. you’re not better. just you wait."

So gravity wins.

I’m going back home to lie down where gravity works for me not against me

‘Tis the Season

So it’s cold season.

And I have a cold.   a bad cold.  but that’s not surprising really given our crazy weather  and my crazy life. 

I’m a walking medicine cabinet: On my stove can be found, nyquil (which no longer has a decongestent in it, fyi), sudafed, dayquil, nose spray, throat lozenges, one my many boxes of tissues, mucinex, and something else I can’t remember because my head is too fuzzy. oh and I have Grandma’s remedy: honey and lemon juice.   

I just caught myself complaining to myself about not only "cold season" but the amount of money I spent on remedies for my cold that I caught during "cold season."  I was annoyed because in my mind, I don’t have a lot of money.  I tend to be as frugal as I can.   I’m not living on ramen noodles but there are days when I make that young, single declaration, "I’m poor."   In fact just the other day I thought it because my friend was commenting on how this was the first time in his life he didn’t have $5000 in his savings account.   I thought, "wow I really am poor."   

But you know, the reality is, I’m not poor.  In fact next to most of the world, I’m rich.   I drive a car.   That means that 92% of the world looks at me and says "you’re rich, you drive a car."  (only 8% of the world has a car). 

What do Africans do during "cold season" they can’t even afford the medicine to combat the AIDS pandemic.   

So my "season" gains a little perspective.

I will sleep well tonight because of Nyquil  (you know, the "so you can rest medicine"). 

But more so I will sleep well because Sunday marks the beginning of another season ..  a season that helps make the world right, the way God intended life to be … the season where we fight (we raise money; we fast) to bring medicine in the form of food, water, doctors, shelter, education, refuge to those who’s "cold season" is a year round, every day occurrence. 

Yes, Famine season begins Sunday.    Famine season begins so that everyone - I mean the 92% of the world that looks at me and says I’m rich - everyone can have that "good night’s rest medicine."

roller coaster rides and teeth grinding

Peace - we all want it.  No one really wants war or suffering.  The peace our hearts long for.  The peace our hearts were made for.   The peace we try for.   The peace we pray for.  The peace we wrestle with.

And interestingly enough it is this same peace we often evade.   Because on the surface embracing the pain, riding through the storm, making the hard call seem to work against the peace we seek. That age old wisdom: don’t rock the boat;  I’m not so sure it works. 

the restless hearts.  anguished spirits.  torn intellects.  teeth grinding.  debreifing sessions.  roller coaster rides.  pendulum swinging   and just shlumping seem to live side by side at times with "not rocking the boat."  and thus keeping us from the peace, that whispers, " all shall be well." 

holding on to avoid pain.   holding on to what "should be"  - holding on to what we wish would be.   we work against ourselves and the God who wants so much for us.

somehow though, peace is found in the pain.   restlessness and anguish (roller coasters and teeth grinding) come when evading pain.   peace comes in accepting and walking through the pain.  and yes even peace comes in death and loss.

so to my dear friends who have so very courageously faced and accepted the pain that dwells underneath their tries at love and life — and are walking through the valley of pain and loss.

peace to you. 

still waters.

green pastures.

peace to you. 

Postcards from England

What was good; what was lovely; what was comforting in England …  things I would have posted along the way.

1.   the brass band playing Christmas Carols in the supermarket as we shopped the Thursday before Christmas

2.   the little boy who thrillingly exclaimed as he passed a knitted nativity scene in the lobby of Southcroft (where Grandma lives):  Look, it’s Jesus!

3.   the runner who wished Grandma and I "happy christmas" really really early on Christmas morning.

4.  the homily that offered the hopeful words that even in the darkest of moments (and even with the dull ache of absence) we can still hear the background hum of joy and of hope and of love.

5.  Sitting around the fire, drinking tea, eating "schtolen" with Tim and Liz, Emma and Steve (my cousins) wondering how we got to be so old … wondering together about the life before us and the life we might create together.   

6.  Josh, my 8 year old cousin. The spread of food on the table: home made pizza’s; home made bread; cheeses; dips; crisps - a New Years Eve feast!!!!!   And Josh, my 8 year old God-child’s delight:  "oooooh cucumber."    (as his mother tried to cojole him into pizza or something a little more substantive. And on New Years Day …  Josh’s declaration to his mother:  mum, today I have a suitable source of carbohydrates on my plate.   

7.   the New Year’s Day walk.    beautiful sunshine in the morning.  a bit windy but a perfect day for a walk.   of course by the time we all had walked down to the park, it was raining.   But we carried on as did the rain.    On we walked and on it poured.    How we laughed.    Ruth’s conclusion when we were almost home: perhaps the cinema would have been a better idea today.    Ummmm, I’m not so sure.   

8.  Grandma.  reminders of where I come from and all the strength and goodness that runs through my blood… there are some things only family can remind us of.

9.  Aunty Ethel.   My 86 year old Aunty - whose dementia worsens.   She remembers not only who I am but where I live.   She doesn’t understand "what’s wrong with all those American lads,"  given her puzzlement over me not being married.    She apparently is coming to visit me in America next time and she’s sneaking in on my honeymoon to give me some "tidbits"  (Lord have mercy!).   But Aunty Ethel asked me a most beautiful question because of her dementia:  She asked how my parents were.   I paused and thought.  And then I answered honestly:  they’re fine now, Aunty Ethel.  they’re really ok now.   And you know, this time, I think I actually believed it true as well.

sing with me

Today I still sing:

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday dear Mummy.

Happy Birthday to you.

I love my friends.

I really do. 

I have a friend who’s a busybody; a couple who are freaks and scumbags; one who’s a prick; one who’s a sap; another who’s a borefest! (if you haven’t yet taken The Brutally Honest Personality Test you really should - we find it highly entertaining).   How I ended up as almost perfect I’m still trying to work out (and still laughing at - see I told you, highly entertaining).

I love them all to pieces, exactly as they are, beauty-marks and all!  I wouldn’t change them for the world.   

"Friendship," said Pooh, "is a very comforting sort of thing to have."  - A.A. Milne

And incidentally.

For those keeping up on my knitting …  I did finish the scarf mostly on my own.   

Grandmas do  work wonders, especially mine. 

She’s my hero.