For I have learned to be content...maybe this time

"Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am."  Philippians 4: 11-13, The Message

Contentment. It's my constant struggle. I find myself daily, wanting. Wanting a new something, wanting a different job, wanting a relationship, wanting a family, wanting a new place to live. Every single time I have let the want overtake my contentment, I have paid a price. In December, I paid an actual price for allowing my want to have its day.

My kitchen/office at Christmas

I live in a small apartment above a garage. It's cute, and cozy and other than the fact that I don't have a stove and I have to combine living spaces (office/kitchen, living room/bedroom) it's really quite lovely. Here, I am under the watch-care of one of the kindest and most caring families a person could ask to be near. Compared to many, many people, it's a palace. I am blessed. But, in my head and heart at times, I don't find myself blessed. I find myself comparing it to my dream house. I get caught up in thinking about how old I am and what the world says I should have. "Chris, you're nearly 50, shouldn't you have your own place by now? Something you can call your own?" my Wormwood whispers in my ear. "Think how different your life would be if you had your own place. If you were closer to downtown. If you had a writing and music space, you would be so much more creative."  (It should be said that this isn't the first time this year I've thought about moving. Earlier in the year, I was inches away from moving to Wilmington, NC.  Thankfully, the Lord closed that door for me. My portable job wasn't portable enough to move there. When the time is right, the door will open, or perhaps it won't.) 

This is not the home, but it's what it looked like in my head.

Off to the real estate websites I went, armed with unrealistic expectations of what I wanted and what I could really afford. In the past, when this discontent came my way, I wouldn't find anything. This time, I found two places.  Surely, this was the Lord. One was an apartment above a store on Princess Anne Street and one was an apartment in what was the old Maury School. The centrality of the building and the shiny finishes of the apartment in the school grabbed me. I put down a deposit and filled out an application.  Almost immediately, I started to panic. For the cost, the space wasn't all that different from where I live. It was a studio apartment with little delineation in living space. Was it really worth it? If I had just listened to the Lord at that moment! I was determined, it was time to move on. I went back to my websites and found a house, for the same amount. A house. My dream. This was definitely a gift from God. He knew my heart, this was the thing that would make me happy, having my own space. Once again, God tried to put up a barrier, the agent didn't want to move my deposit. I was yet determined. I made it happen. I went to see the house, and even though it was old, it was quaint, and more space than I could have dreamed of. I knew it would be tight financially, but it was time to move forward. I could make this happen. I signed the lease and put down the first month's rent. 

It was then that full fledged panic set in. I was in way over my head. The rent amount would take up a high percentage of my paycheck, and there were utilities on top of that. The numbers, which I only ran until AFTER I signed the lease, weren't adding up. I am not a person who doesn't sleep. I didn't sleep a wink that night. I am not a person who feels anxiety, even when I was diagnosed with cancer, I didn't feel the panic like I did looking at those numbers. My blood pressure went through the roof. The only thing that calmed me even slightly was assurance of God giving me Jeremiah 29:11-13, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me an come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart."  I cried a lot. I prayed a lot. I must have scared poor Ellie as I stood in the Glasgow's kitchen in the midst of a panic attack crying and asking Sharon if they had plans for my apartment yet. Thankfully, they had promised it to no one. I decided the best thing to do was to write the woman who owned the house and ask to be let out of the lease. I would just be honest with her about my situation. Surely, she would have mercy. 

She did, sort of. She let me out of the lease. She kept all that money. I thought for certain that God would spare me that. Not so much. Now, I live with the consequences of responding to my lack of contentment instead of resting in the place that Lord has me. There is no need to feel too sorry for me, but if you know someone who needs guitar lessons, you could send them my way. ;-)

I don't mean we shouldn't move forward in life, have goals, or even want things. I am not saying even that obstacles are signs that God is not in it. If that were the case, the Emancipation Proclamation would never had been passed, polio would never had been cured, and we never would have landed on the moon. I do mean we must be certain that it's really what God wants for us and not just the cry of our deceptive hearts. Sometimes, what I think is a step forward in faith, is a lunge for something I want that God doesn't want for me at the moment. He may allow doors to be opened that I shouldn't walk through to remind me that my contentment doesn't come from that person or thing or place, it comes from Him and only Him. That's why God tells us to test all things that come our way. Only if I had actually done what I know I should have.

Maybe, I've learned this lesson this time. You see, it's not the first time that God has had to remind me the hard way that my contentment comes only from Him. I have a tendency to fall off the rails in this area. Hopefully, it makes me more empathetic to those who fall in this and other areas. I read this verse this morning, and it's my prayer for today. 2 Corinthians 1:12, "For our boast is this, the testimony of our conscience, that we behaved in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity, not by earthly wisdom but by the grace of God, and supremely so toward you."

Holiday Woes

There's been a lot in the news lately and on Facebook about how early Christmas becomes a part of the consciousness of the world. I've seen Facebook posts about the first Christmas ads running, the Christmas songs are heard in public, and the choices of retailers to open for Black Friday earlier and earlier. This year Target has received a lot of publicity because an employee created a petition to get Target to go back on its decision to open on Thanksgiving. People are so upset for the retail workers. How awful that they don't get to spend time with family. That is very true.

I'd like to point out a couple things though. If no one showed up on Thanksgiving, they wouldn't do it again next year. If people wouldn't line up in the middle of the night to get the "great deals" they wouldn't have felt compelled to even try. I've never really been a crack of dawn Black Friday shopper. Perhaps its because I don't understand the pressure to get "that gift" for someone. I understand people have limited budgets for Christmas (or at least we should) and want to stretch if as far as it can.

I submit, however, that all of this is because we all (present company included) have lost sight of what both Thanksgiving and Christmas are supposed to be about. Thanksgiving isn't about food, or family, or football.  Christmas isn't about presents, or decorations, or Santa. Even though I see nothing wrong with any of those things, both of these holidays are about something much bigger than that, they are meant to be worship of the one who gives us all blessings and gave us a Savior to lift us out of the din.

I realize that not everyone believes as I do. However, if you're frustrated at the direction these holidays are taking, our thought processes have to change, first. We've made this bed. We like to blame the "corporations" but they are only reacting to what they think will work and evidently has. WE created this. WE are the only ones who can change it. Perhaps if our thoughts were first on God or perhaps even on our fellow man, then this season could be what many wish it was.

Wasteland

I've always considered myself a writer. But a writer isn't a writer if she doesn't write. I can't believe I have gone almost a year without a blog post and even the entries in my journal are sporadic. I am living in an idea wasteland.

I definitely waste too much time. Facebook, TV shows, shopping, games, they all add up to wasted time. Time that could be spent writing or reading or playing music. I haven't written a song or a story in forever. I wish I could say it's like not breathing to me, but I'm also too practical for that. There's dishes to wash, cat litter to change, money to be earned, doctor's appointments to go to, weight to lose. I posted last week on Facebook that I was thankful for my employment, and I am, but what I wouldn't give to have more hours in the day. By the time I cook for myself a couple times a day, clean up for myself a couple times a day, work, go to the gym for a couple hours, shower, put on makeup, have some time in the WORD. I can't leave those things undone. What other time is there?  What other brain power is there? And how people who don't live by themselves get anything accomplished I will never know.

So, here I go again.  Trying to put my thoughts down. Trying to figure out what it is I even need to say. Desperately hoping to find my voice again.

Remembering JoePa

Joe Paterno died Sunday morning. The media and maybe some of you think that Penn State thought he was a god. I can't speak for everyone, but I know that wasn't what I thought. In fact, I thought just the opposite. He was a man, a man with flaws and not so great fashion sense. He was also a man of loyalty, integrity, and other simple and sometimes forgotten values.

In 1982, I went to University Park as a freshman by some miracle, 'cause my 1060 SAT score (which was not great, but not horrible at the time) sure didn't make me a shoo in to get in at Main Campus. I grew up in Pittsburgh, so I knew how big college football could be. I, like many other freshman, was so excited to be part of the first home football game. I have no idea who we played, but I do remember the feeling of being in that crowd and the rush of watching the team run out of the tunnel with Joe at the head of the line. I don't remember if we won that game, but I do remember it was a great season overall. I remember rushing the field after beating Nebraska in the last seconds of the game and nearly getting knocked over by a Nebraska player, by far the biggest person I'd ever seen in my life. I remember winning the Sugar Bowl that year. Jody, Brenda, and I walked out to Hills Plaza from our dorm hoping to see the team come back. We ended up hitching a ride back to campus and climbing onto the roof of the football building so we could see the team come home. We sat over the door and waved at them all as they came through, even JoePa. He just looked at us like a worried dad and shook his head. 

After my freshman year, I didn't go to as many football games, sometimes the weather kept me away, sometimes the studies kept me away, sometimes the thought of getting pelted with marshmallows kept me away (those things hurt after a few throws). But, it was Penn State, it was hard not to hear the roar from the stadium on a Saturday afternoon and be caught up in it, even if you didn't go to the game. And JoePa was always there.


Once I ventured beyond campus and made some friends amongst the "townies," I discovered that JoePa lived in a little ranch style house near a park in town. And even after winning two national championships during my tenure at Penn State, (yes, that means I was on the 5-year plan) they didn't move out of that house. It's the same house Joe did his last interview from a couple weeks ago. The man made lots of money being a winning football coach, but chose to give that money to Penn State rather than buy an ostentatious home.  Perhaps Tom Brady could take a page from that playbook. (Brady just bought a home for something like 40 million dollars.) Once I made friends with some of the players, I discovered that they would often stop at the house to visit with Coach and SuePa. She would make them bologna sandwiches, shoot the breeze, and talk about school. I heard the story of Bob White and how Joe and Sue insisted that he read 12 books and write reports on them (graded by Sue) before coming to Penn State to play football. My brother had classes with Bob and said he was a great student and a nice guy. There a litany of players that can tell stories about how he touched their lives.

I only saw the man up close once, though. I was a freshman or a sophomore, I can't remember exactly. I lived in South Halls, the dorms closest to downtown. My hall, Hoyt Hall, was just across College Avenue from Bell's Greek Pizza and just down the hill from where the football complex sat at the time. On a spring day, some friends and I attempted to study spread out on the hill behind my dorm. I wish I could remember if it was Jody and Brenda with me, or maybe Adrienne and Lori, but I don't. I just remember looking up and seeing Joe Paterno cutting across the hillside close-by. I guess he was headed to the pizza place on the corner. One of us called out, "JoePa!" he stopped and turned toward us.

"How's school going, girls?" he asked.

We all told him it was fine. He asked what we were studying and we told him. We talked for a minute or so, I don't even remember about what.

He turned to go and he said, "Study hard, now."

And he walked toward town.

Now, that's not a great story. It's probably not even an interesting story or particularly inspiring story. It was not a conversation that was life changing or filled with wisdom. To be honest, it's a moment that I sort of forgot about until the "Penn State Scandal" broke. But I believe this little moment revealed a little of Joe's character. Here was this man, successful, at the top of his field, revered by people at the university and all over the US, and he took the time to stop to talk to some college kids sitting on a hillside. We had nothing to offer him. We weren't influential. We didn't have parents that were influential. He could have waved and kept walking and we would have been thrilled. But he took the time to ask us how we were and to point us to what we were there for, education.



And let me be clear, I realize he was just a man. The press didn't like him particularly because he had no patience for some of their questions. He sometimes came off as arrogant. He had not embraced the technological age. I am sure that being the driven man he was, he wasn't easy to live with as a husband and a father. He freely admitted he's made mistakes. Haven't we all? I've made some doozies, just ask my friends and family. And there's others that no one knows about, times I took the easier, safer way or the way that made me look or feel good. I believe it says somewhere, let he who is without sin cast the first stone, and something about taking a plank out of your own eye. Criticism has been he was about money or about protecting the football program. To that I say, if he was about money, he would have taken one of the many offers he had over the years to go elsewhere. If he was only about football alone, he could have very easily allowed his players to fail academically or his boosters to entice players with money like other schools have. JoePa wasn't about any of those things, he was about the students.  I would guess there's many stories like mine out there.

Joe Paterno's legacy, in my experience, is not the wins on the gridiron, but a few moments on a hillside. 

Risky Business

It's been another six months since I wrote a post here!  How am I EVER going to be discovered as a writer/blogger if I don't put it out there for people to see? ;-)

The last post I wrote was about the earthquake we had here in August.  Honestly, those brief tremors were probably the last exciting thing that's happened to me this year.  But, you know after the past couple years of jostling and shaking, I'm okay with that. Job loss, leaving my church family, moving for what seems the 60th time, cancer, money problems, family illness--they've all been a part of the previous years.  So, I guess a lack of excitement has its perks. But it also has its risks.  It makes me think some very foolish and dangerous things, like:

1.  I'm okay
2.  Life is predictable
3.  I have everything under control
4.  I don't really need to rely on anyone else, including God
5.  Safety and security is all that matters
6.  God is finished with using me
7.  The most important person in my life is me

And the list could go on and on (add your own in comments if you like).

Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the respite. But I also know that it won't remain this way and I shouldn't desire for it to be so.  The thriving organism is the organism that is changing and adapting. So, as I think about this coming year, I am looking forward in anticipation to what tremors and jostles this life might bring me.  I am ready for my risky thoughts to be like this:

1.  What can I do to bless others?
2.  What can I do to change things near and far from me?
3.   How does God want to leverage my uniqueness for His glory?
4.  What is the new thing that God wants me to do, experience, see this year?
5.  How can I persevere and, even better, shine in the midst of where he has me now?
6.  How can I let go of my grip on it all and trust God more.
I hope you'll join me in responding to some of these questions.  May we all be more of what we were designed to be this year.

So yesterday was the a gorgeous day. The icky humidity was gone, we woke up to temperatures in the 50's and a gleaming blue sky.

About 20 to 30 minutes  before 2 PM, my cat got really whiny. She sat at the window and cried. Then she went down the stairs to the door and cried. Finally she went and hid under the bed.

I was at my desk trying to get some work accomplished when it happened. We live near Quantico, so to have the windows rattle isn't unusual.  That was my first thought, Quantico was really going at it.  Then, I thought maybe Dale had some kind of big truck at his construction site outside. Then I realized, freak, it's an earthquake!!! I jumped out of my chair and ran for the door jam. Then I thought, I'm on the second floor, maybe not so safe! So, I dashed down the stairs and out the door and away from the building. Everyone who was on the property was abuzz.  What was it?  Was it an earthquake?  Jennifer, who lived in CA for a long while, said she'd never experienced anything like it out there.  Rachael wanted me to check the internet, but I'd left my phone in my apartment.  So, I reluctantly went back up the stairs and Googled earthquakes.  It took me to the USGS and the fact that the quake had been a 5.8 and was centered near Mineral, VA.   In Virginia? A 5.8? I knew Mineral was somewhere out 522 toward Culpeper.

Facebook blew up with exclamations of  "was that really an earthquake?" And the news people were all completely rattled (like my pun). Rumors abounded, the weirdest one, the Washington Monument was leaning. It turned out that there is a crack at the top of "the national pen," as I have heard kids called it, and it's closed for the time being. As the day went on we heard of damage in Culpeper and even an apartment complex in DC that was structurally compromised. At my house, as far I can tell the only impact on my place was a drawer and a cabinet thrown open. Of course, the exodus from DC was hellacious, but like that would be surprising at all.

Then I got an e-mail from Pete.  They evacuated his building. In Pittsburgh! Really?  The red circle on the news just grew and grew.  It was felt from GA to Chicago to Nova Scotia.

Then last night at about 8 PM, the first aftershock. It was just a second, but definitely was there. It was 4.2. And I was pretty sure I felt one after I went to bed last night.  The news confirmed it, 12:45 AM around a 3.

I know people who live on the west coast that think we're being silly to freak out so much about this quake.  But holy heck, nothing like this has happened here since the 1800s!  Definitely not a disaster, just a little shake up to an otherwise normal day.

Monticello

Yesterday afternoon when I got to Charlottesville, I decided I would head over to Monticello and take some pictures. It's my second time visiting the house. Thomas Jefferson was an amazing man. Fluent in seven languages, a scientist, an architect, an inventor, a visionary.  There's certainly no one like him in government today. Here's a few pictures I took on the grounds.  The gardens are beautiful. First the flowers....

 Now the veggies!

I didn't know that's what asparagus looks like!

And look who greeted me on my way back to the house!