Friday Five: The Random edition

Over at RevGalBlogPals there's a Friday Five that I felt like playing:

RevKarla says:  Hello Pals~~
Random Friday Five is back!

1. If you could sneak away anywhere this weekend, right now, all expenses paid,
where would you go and what would you do?

Do I have more than two days or am I taking a private jet?  Maui or the Big Island of Hawaii, just to sit on the beach and watch the waves and maybe go float in the waves on a pool noodle.  I would say down to the beach just a few miles from my house but that water is cooooolllldddd!!!

2. What is for lunch today? (one of the very first FF I ever played asked this.)

Lunch?  People eat lunch?

3. Along that first-FF-I-ever-played theme, what are you wearing today?

Khaki capris, a blue and white sleeveless shirt and white cardigan...cause though it's warm to hot outside the office is cold!

4. Along the Today Theme, what are you doing today?

Working...when not playing the Friday Five...and then going to the Fair.  Turkey races and fair food (to make up for the no-lunch?)  Yippee!

5. Along the random theme, what is your favorite scent, and why?

Scents are tough for me as they tend to trigger migraines if they are too strong.  However, nothing beats the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.  I think I associate the smell of chocolate chip cookies with love.  It's my Mom's fault.  =)

Filling the sound of silence

Back when I was a regular worship leader, I would lead prayers once or twice during the worship service.  At one point in time, I became aware that our prayer time was filled with a lot of words...one person speaking for the whole group to God.  It dawned on me that we were filling up our worship service with a lot of words and music but we rarely filled the space with silence.

So I tried it.  I didn't say anything in a prayer for a minute.  An uncomfortable minute for some as they shifted in their seats with some anxiousness, a beautiful minute for others.  Anytime I was in the place of praying during the worship service, I made a point to include silence...a time to process, a time to listen, a time just to breathe.

Today I was reading the latest headlines and I came across a headline that said "So and so, speaks out on so and so."  I didn't watch the video or read the transcript of what was said but my initial reaction to the headline was "I wish they would just keep silent."  I get that the media is always pushing for words but sometimes, sometimes silence really is best.

We jump in and fill spaces with words that may have been better left unspoken.  We say things that then require apologies that we may not mean.  We jump to conclusions and spout facts that are made up or speak before we know the whole story.  It's the way of the world but sometimes, sometimes we really should just be silent, to let our hearts and minds catch up with each other...so that our words really do reflect what we are feeling and thinking.  Silence is a good thing.

My first trip to Mississippi after Hurricane Katrina, the silence was deafening.  There weren't any birds chirping, nor was there the sound of cars driving by or radios playing.  During the day the sounds of construction work rang through but in the late afternoon and evening silence reigned...well, except for the teenagers in my group.  A few trips and a couple of years later the birds had returned, the cars had returned, the people had returned and busyness filled the air.

There were still times of silence.  The year that we scraped (by hand) the outside of the pretty house I spent a lot of time listening to the stillness of the air.  Being a quiet person by design, it was beautiful and refreshing to be perched on a ladder up near the rafters of an old house scraping paint surrounded by silence, while my team mates scraped the other sides of the house.  I enjoyed the moments back on the ground, laughing with the team but in those quiet moments on a ladder, I found peace.  I had time to process, to listen, to examine my own heart and mind...and be annoyed with the bird with the very irritating call that kept breaking the silence!

I think my heart, my soul is longing for that silence again.  I find myself longing to be places where I have found peace and rest in the silence...the lanai in Maui, the rocks at Zephyr Point, on a ladder scraping paint at the pretty house, in my car with the top down driving to nowhere, on a bench in D-land.  More than the silence, I'm longing for the peace that comes along after the silence.

I'm longing for that for myself, but also for this world, so used to noise that silence makes us shift uncomfortably in our seats, making so us jumpy we make up stories that aren't really true to fill the silence...and the news cycle continues.

A little levity

I recently moved items around in the office, so that I had better access to a filing cabinet and because I was bored.  Really, really bored.

It didn't take much work, I pushed my desk towards one wall, moved the filing cabinets around a little and all of sudden the room just opened up.  I had space again!

Now, the scanner and lateral filing cabinet are accessible by a push of my feet and a roll of my chair.  It's quite fun, especially with the plastic chair mat that makes rolling oh-so-easy.

The mat doesn't go far enough, though, and sometimes, to get to the vertical filing cabinet, I wind up rolling off and have a hard time getting the chair back on.  Still, it's a little fun that makes the day better.

Yesterday, I was pushing myself around the office when all of a sudden I went flying one direction and the chair went the other.  I'm not even sure how it happened.  I literally pushed myself out of the chair.  I caught myself before I wound up face first into the laser printer stand but for a moment I had this flash of black eyes and broken wrists.  It wasn't pretty, that flash of premonition.  I was glad for two things:  1 - that I was able to stop the disaster before it happened and 2 - that my office door was closed as I hurtled myself off the chair.

I'm a little more cautious today, as I roll back and forth between the scanner and the desk.  I don't really need a repeat performance...but I can giggle about my close call with black eyes and broken wrists.  It's all in a day's work!  =)

Grief check-up

Walking this path of grief, I'm always aware that my path is unique to me.  What I need, isn't what other's need.  What turns me off and makes me want to run away screaming, may be comforting and helpful to other people.  It's helpful to write down what it is I need, don't need, sometimes need and what I have to offer at the moment, so here goes.

Here's what I need:

• People to listen to me or read what I write.
• People who will simply pray or think of me throughout the day.
• Virtual hugs...RevGals introduced me to this one.  It's simple. Take a persons name and insert it into parentheses, such as ((Brittany)).  I dig those.
• Little simple notes "thinking of you", "love you", etc.  Or in the case of one friend, inappropriate text Fridays.  =)
• A lot of grace and understanding.  It's hard just to get up in the morning.  All I want to do is hide away from the world.  I'm working, really working, at being open and available but oh gosh, it's hard 'cuz I am wrung out emotionally.  I find myself exhausted at the end of the week, just from going to work each day and being "on".  My introverted tendencies are now swamped by the emotional overload of grief...it's just a tough time in life.

Here's what I don't need:

• Reassurance of God's presence...I'm fully aware of God's presence.  I'm not mad at God and I don't feel abandoned by God...y'all can stand down.
• To be told the details of your prayers.
• Detailed stories from your own walk with grief.
• Reassurance that "this too will pass"...yeah, that one isn't good.
• Scripture verses quoted.

Here's what I sometimes need:

• Physical Hugs.  This one is tough.  I've found that my inner sensitivity levels are interlinked to physical touch, if that makes sense at all.  Sometimes I am good with hugs and sometimes, wow, sometimes I really just don't want to be touched because I will come undone.

Here's what I can offer others right now:

• Not a lot.
• Honesty, but only if I deem you trustworthy or really willing to accept what I have to say...even then, I'm finding I don't have much to lose these days...either that or I don't have much of a guard/shield/filter in place.
• Tears on demand.
• Watery smiles.
• Sincere gratitude for those walking beside me.  

Road Construction ahead

Every day I drive the same road.  Driving south, I head to work.  Driving north, I head home.  I've been driving this road since I first got my license many a year ago.  The road hasn't changed much.  There have been new patches of concrete/blacktop added here and there.  A couple of stoplights have been added.  But the overall road hasn't really changed.

Driving south, I'm familiar with the bumps, the turns and where the potholes are that I want to avoid.  Driving north, it's the same.  There are some times (and I know this isn't a good thing) that I can drive this road and not really see much.  I'm on auto pilot.  I drive to work.  I drive home.

Recently, they have been working on the road at night.  Cutting down through the concrete to get to the water pipes below the road.  Honestly, they are making a mess of a once okay road.  Should it ever rain here in California again, there will be new potholes and bumps to avoid.

This road construction has meant one way traffic control.  The northbound traffic is now diverted into the southbound lane, past the construction.  The other night, as I drove northbound in the southbound lane I realized this road that I was so familiar with, had suddenly become something completely different.  The bumps and curves were different.  I was driving the same road but everything had changed.

The bumps and curves that I knew so well traveling south in the correct lane, felt different and unfamiliar traveling north.  I didn't know how to anticipate the road anymore.  I suddenly felt disoriented and was very glad to move back into the correct northbound lane as I passed the construction zone.

This road realization has a direct correlation to my life.  I'm traveling the same roads yet somehow the lanes have switched and everything is different.  The bumps and curves are hard to anticipate. I'm doing the same thing I was doing before April 29th and June 2nd.  Yet, I'm driving on the "wrong" side of the road because there's this big gaping hole that I'm maneuvering around, ever aware of it's presence and achingly aware that the hole is going to remain open and under construction for a very, very long time.

Driving north in the southbound lane...it's a whole new adventure.

On the path of grief

"Praying."

That's all the text says, most times.  Just one word and I'm moved to tears.

The texts have been coming for two months now, usually around the same moments when I'm feeling pretty shaky.

There is no expectation of answers or accolades.  No requests for prayer in return.  Just a simple acknowledgement of prayer and support.

I see the woman who sends me these texts, at church.  I usually walk right into her hugs, whisper a thank you and that's all.  I can't get any more words out.  The lump in my throat won't let me.

The beauty of these texts are two fold:

1.  She is acknowledging the pain, the grief, the tough journey I am on, and will continue to be on for a long time, and honoring the journey with her acknowledgement.

2.  Through this simple act, she is bringing me comfort and reminding me God is right here, in the midst of this storm.  The word content of her prayers does not matter to me, there is simply comfort in the knowledge of the prayer being said, to the God I follow.

To me, this is church.  This is being in authentic community with one another.  This is living out one's faith.  This is how we walk through grief with one another...simply acknowledging the journey.  I'm grateful to have her friendship on this road.

The gift of comfort from an unexpected source

"Hey," said the voice, as I walked by the table outside my favorite dining establishment in small town.  I braced myself as I turned to look at the person who belonged to the voice.  I was sure it was one of two types of people, someone from town who knew my family and wanted to offer their sympathy or one of the local homeless/down on their luck folks who occasionally ask for help.  Turned out to be both in one.

As I swung around, I looked into the eyes of R.  I've written about him before.  I smiled, as best I could, and said "Hey, how's it going," and there was this silence and a look in his eyes...then he got up and suddenly his arms were around me, holding me close as he whispered, "I'm sorry." 

I whispered back, in a very shaky voice, "Thank you, R.  Thank you."  After a moment, he stepped back and went back to his seat.  I smiled again, struggling to keep the tears at bay, and said "Thank you" again, before I turned and headed to my car.  I cried all the way home.  Shuddering sobs.  The gaping wound in my soul was opened again, but also soothed...by someone unexpected but very welcomed.

I caught a glimpse, yet again, of the beauty of R's soul tonight, of the person behind the addictions, of the person behind the label "homeless".  I was given the gift of comfort from an unexpected source.  It's a gift I'm going to cherish for a long, long time on this journey of grief.