I don't know why, but it makes me laugh...

I couldn't tell if it was because it was a Friday afternoon at work, or if it was because Halloween, of it was because I left my office key card in my other pants pocket, but I had a hard time getting through my day.

So, I decided to skip going to the Y and opted for a quick visit to the coffee shop. I was glad I did. I got to connect with some people I hadn't in a long while. But what really made my day occurred on my way home.

At the traffic light on 6th and Union, a bunch of trick or treaters were crossing 6th Ave. It was the usual fare of familiar costumes, but I noticed that one kid was carrying a "We Need Change" placard.

Because it is getting closer to Election Day (did you vote yet? I did!) I had come to ignore these placards that have littered our sidewalks and street corners. But this particular one was in the hands of a little boy in a dark suit.

Yes, it was a little Barack Obama crossing the street.

I don't know why, but it made me laugh.

Odd Chances

This past Sunday, my church hosted a Harvest Festival. I was in charge of the cake walk. For two hours, in 10 minute intervals, I play referee for the scrambling children who desperately desire to win a cake. For like 10 seconds I'm every child's favorite, because I hold the key to the cakes. Only to be followed by 9 minutes and 50 seconds of being the sworn enemy of children everywhere because I denied them access.

Silly, fickle children. The game of chance is lost on so many people.

However, I found out that one of my favorite children in the entire world was determined to win a cake. Having been denied three years in a row, he made it known that all he wanted during this year's Harvest Festival was to go home with a cake.

Of course, since he is my favorite, I wanted him to win. However, I could not rig the game...espeically at a church function! Discovering that my integrity was coming into question, I decided to let random people in the audience pick the number. I picked my favorite child's mother to pick a number...and she ends up picking my favorite child's number.

Did I mention that this was a game of chance? Seriously...what were the odds?

The child didn't even know. I cheered for him and told him he had won a cake. His mother, with her own intergrity coming into question, showed the token that bore the number that her own child was standing on. He stared at the number he was standing on and when it finally registered, he threw his hands in the air and jumped for victory.

I was truly happy for that kid. And I hope he enjoyed that cake.

And no...I did not rig the game. I couldn't even if I tried!

Did I mention that this was a game of chance?

On a slightly related note, at work, we had hired a few new people to help with our Gift Catalog season. Gift Catalog items are quite popular during the Holidays and usually generates a large portion of our income. And since most of our yearly income at World Vision comes during November and December, it is imperative that we have all hands (and extra hands) on deck.

As I have mentioned before, I am working in the reserach department for DCS while one of my co-workers is on maternity leave. DCS agents take calls in the floor above us, so I have not quite met all the new hires. One of them was sitting at my old desk--which in itself is annoying. But shock of all shocks, was that I thought he was an former friend of mine (who, sadly, I no longer speak to. I'm sorry...I miss you, friend!). He looked so much like him that I almost went behind him to say hello and strike up a conversation that Former Friend and I would have.

Sadly, it was not him. Thankfully...I did not embarrass myself by interacting with New Guy as if we already knew each other.

And as I have gotten to know this person more, it is eerily scary how similar he is to Former Friend. Their mannerisms are oddly similar. He sounds almost like him. They have similar clothing styles. It is crazy! And for some reason, I forget that New Guy is not Former Friend every time I venture up the flight of stairs that separates our floors. I know its going to happen...I'm going to call him by Former Friend's name. I know it. Embarrassment is just around the corner!

I'm hoping they have the same name, so I don't have to spend any more mental energy to stop referring to New Guy as Former Friend.

Seriously...what are the chances?

Silver Lining

So, I'm walking around on the "floor" (as the third floor of our building is affectionately called. This is where DCS agents take calls.) when one of my co-workers strikes up a conversation with me:

Awesome Co-Worker: Hey, its good to see you up here. How is research going?
Me: I love it.
Awesome Co-Worker: I can tell. Its so good to see you smiling again.
Me: [blushing, laughing, smiling...] What?
Awesome Co-Worker: You've been smiling a lot more, lately. Its a good thing.
Me: [nodding in agreement.] Thank you. God has been showing me a lot. And I love working in research.
Awesome Co-Worker: That's good to hear.
Me: I like being friends with happy people--some of my best friends are the ones who can laugh at themselves.
Awesome Co-Worker: This is key.
Me: Well, I guess its about time I become one of those people.
Awesome Co-Worker: I had no doubt you were always a happy person. But its good to see more of it lately.

And I walked back to my desk downstairs, beaming with happiness.

Well, today, the conversation continues. I was shopping in Seattle with my mom and we were walking alone Pine street, after a successful run at Pike Place Market. Without going into the long involved story about the silver ring that I wear on my right hand, I will say that I had gone without the ring for the past three weeks. And for those three weeks, my naked hand stared at me. And for those three weeks, I kept running my thumb along the indented paled skin around my fourth finger.

I didn't want to admit it, but for those three weeks, I felt that a part of me was missing.

I searched for a new silver ring, knowing that by doing so, I would have invested in four separate rings in the past eleven years. I had failed to find one that fit perfectly, and I had given up the search. However, at Pike Place Market, I found a very close likeness to the one I had owned. I was happy.

And this is what my mother saw, as we walked along Pine street.

Me: I'm sorry, I'm just so happy.
Mom: I can see that.
Me: I know it's silly, but I have wanted to find this ring for so long.
Mom: I know. You are very happy. I guess it's meant to be.
Me: [staring at my ring.] It just felt different without it.
Mom: I can see that. I'm glad you found that part of you that you had lost.

And she doesn't even know the half of it.

I know this is just the silver lining, and I'm not quite through the storm. But something good is still going to come out of this nearly month-long journey. I just know it.

Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a
crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives a blessing from God.
--Writer of Hebrews, Hebrews 6:7

In midst of this storm, I shall drink deep and not drown in it. Out of this nourishment, God will produce something beautiful. And that is enough to make me smile.

Pinched

I have a pinched nerve in my neck, and I'm quite uncomfortable. I so desperately want to see my chiropractor! :::grin:::

Ok. Enough of that nonsense. I haven't written in awhile, and I thought I'd check in. There are too many thoughts swimming in my brain and I need to make room for more.

Last Saturday, I had a couple of conversations with a common thread. Apparently, there was something I was not understanding from God, and he had use three different people to get his point across.

Sometimes I wonder if God ever shakes his head at me with disbelief on how dense and oblivious I can be.

At any rate, the conversation I wanted to focus on was of the same nature of the conversation I had with Random Guy. The oddest thing was she talked about my issues with laughing. Now personally, I don't have issues with laughing. At least, I don't think I do. I love laughing. I like people who make me laugh. I like people who laugh at themselves. I try to surround myself with those who are, for the most part, people who laugh.

I offered my friend the same answer I had given to Random Guy. Sure, I would like to laugh more.

And it was then I realized what was really going on in my brain. I do laugh with people, but I hardly ever cry with them. I just don't cry. When I do, its for a brief moment. I blink twice and the tears stop and the telltale signs of red blotchy eyes disappear. Its a practice that I am not proud of, but one I have perfected over many years of hiding.

The conclusion I have is this. I don't mind people who cry, its just that don't cry often. And when I do, it is alone. The running joke for awhile was, "Let me pinch my leg to see if I can muster up a single tear."

I don't think not crying in front of people it is necessarily a bad thing, but apparently, there are those who want more of me. Sure, I'll laugh with you, but I won't necessarily cry with you. And if I'm hiding from people, than odds are, I am also hiding from God.

Sigh. I just don't ever really learn these things.

My friend also stated that she sees that I am constantly thinking. This isn't an untrue or unique observation. But her next statement was:

"I sometimes think of how exhausting it must be to be you."

You have no idea.

But apparently, that was not God's intention for me. And I hope that if anything, with my constantly running thoughts, worries, and fears, I will give the filter a break. Let vulnerability win and rest.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
-Jesus, in Matthew 11:28-30

Singing the Same Song

As I've mentioned before, I get the unique privilege of encountering many random conversations.

I don't plans these conversations (hence the random) and I don't deliberately seek them out (despite what a certain person thinks). And I love these God appointed encounters. In the last couple of weeks, I have been sick of hearing my own song in repeat. To remedy myself from the pity party, I ventured out into the world that seems to constantly reject me and came across a few observations:

1. We're singing the same song. Sure, have our own version of the song. Some sing the verse, or the chorus, or do a long riff on the melody. But the song is the same. It doesn't make it less true, of course, but we all want to be heard. To be known. To be loved. To be appreciated. To be safe. To be comforted. To not hurt. To become something greater than what we are. To not fail. To not fear. To not worry. To be courageous. To be strong. To be beautiful. To be...

2. People have stopped listening. I don't know if its because we're too busy singing our own versions of the same tune, but I am amazed at what a listening ear can do to a person. People have lent me their ears and it turned my life around (please see other conversations.) And I have seen the joy, release, and peace that enters a person's soul when I listen to them. It has been a personal to joy to be a sounding board for someone--especially when they feel that no one hears them.

3. We all have something to offer. My prayer is that we all realize this truth (including myself.) I often wonder what would happen if we stopped thinking about our own struggles and supported someone instead? I am often surprised that when I do, that the very thing I struggle with allowed me to help someone in the same situation. And it is in those times I learn the most. God uses all things...even us. He truly does.

Ok. The metaphor has been milked. Back to my song.

Human Kindness

I think I'm starting to feel like myself again.

Thank you, Lord, for the people you put in my life. Their kindness reflected your love.

I led them with cords of human kindness; with ties of love...
--Hosea 11:4

It's beautiful to me to know that God can use our kindness to lead others to him. May every act of kindness I do be used in a such a way.

For your glory, Lord.

I Like the Little Things

It was a discouraging day today.

But God, in his infinite wisdom and an unfailing love showed me once again, that he still cares. And he will still show this through people...even if they are random.

Today, it was my chiropractor.

We were in his office, talking about my one month reassessment. Because it's me, I ended up asking him more questions about his sleeping patterns than he did about mine. Realizing that I had yet, once again, turned the tables in controlling the conversation, he laughed and asked me what I would recommend for his sleeping problems.

I leaned forward and said with a raised eyebrow that I because I wasn't licensed, I couldn't give him medical advice, but I thought he should consult his doctor. And with a smile, I told him I knew a name of a few chiropractors. He laughed again and we talked about my schooling, when I graduated college and high school, where I went to high school, how long I lived in Tacoma and where my family lived. We chatted about where he grew up and his adventures in baseball.

Sadly, our conversation had to end, because, truly, I had an actual medical appointment, not a first date. (E-mail me if you want my thoughts on that one).

Sure, I'm a bit of a flirt (the debate is out there if I am one or not) and he was asking those questions to get to know me. Or maybe I just carry a good conversation. But in the end, I found it refreshing to have someone hold a conversation with me. I learned about them, they learn about me. Usually its one sided, but this time, it wasn't.

And after a whole day of feeling like I was never going to be heard and that I was destined for a life of silence, it was nice to have someone actually sit down across from me, look in me in the eyes and let me share a little bit about my life.

It doesn't have to mean anything, but one fifteen minute conversation proved to me that a little bit can still mean a lot.

Lessons from the Wizard...of Oz

First of all, I love the movie, The Wizard of Oz. Now that I'm a little older than when I first loved it, I find it to be such a smart and entertaining movie. I could probably devote a million blogs on this movie alone, but I will spare my two loyal readers. :-D

But for the moment, I will share only three observations. In lieu of my last marathon entry, I will keep this brief...er.

1. The Yellow Brick Road. It was the instruction Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, gave Dorothy when she began her journey home: follow the yellow brick road. It seemed simple enough, and Dorothy had to trust that it would not lead her astray.

But when Dorothy came to the fork in the road where she met the Scarecrow, she hesitated. Doubt plagued her...which road should she take? Was she lost? What happens if she went to the right or to the left?

Paralyzed by her fear of being lost, she neglected to notice that both roads were made of yellow bricks, and so forgot her only instruction: follow the yellow brick road. If Glinda was right, and all she had to do was follow the yellow brick road, she would find her way home...and either road would take her there...that is, if they were both yellow.

I often forget my instructions when faced with a hard decision. Paralyzed by fear and failure, I forget that no matter road I take, if I follow Jesus, I will get to where I am going.

2. The Wicked Witch of the West. When the Wicked Witch threatens Dorothy in Munchkinland, Glinda wraps a protective arm around Dorothy and says laughingly to the Wicked Witch:

"Rubbish! You have no power here! Begone!"

Wicked Witch, though quite a fearsome creature to behold, had no real power under real authority. How often I forget that Satan, though powerful enough, has no real power where God resides. And with a simple reminder under the full authority of God, he'll leave me alone, too.

3. Brains. One of my favorite quotes come in the scene where Dorothy meets the Scarecrow. He admits to her that he doesn't have a brain. She asks how he was able to talk if he didn't have a brain. His reply:

"But some people without brains do an awful lot of talking."

I tend not to be cynical when it comes to the Presidential Election, but a person can only take so much! Yes, there is a lot of talk out there. We tend to make stupid decisions, individually and as a group, but we are not stupid. We have the ability to make our own minds, and all we are asking is for the facts, not spin. Now, I can't say that people don't do stupid things (because many people do) but I am tired of a governmental leadership assuming that we cannot make an informed decision if we are given all of the facts.

Sadly, we can't fix the problem with a broken system. Talking heads are what we left with, and the Presidential Election will appear again in four years when, again, change is all we talk about.

I hope, with or without an Presidential election year, that we never stop talking about change. But I also hope that we do more than talk, that we would continue working toward a better world for our children and reaching those for the glory of God.

4. Puns. I hate puns. But this movie gets away with it. When Dorothy and the Scarecrow meet the Tin Man, he mumbles...

Dorothy: [to Scarecrow] He said oil can.
Scarecrow: Oil can what?

As a child, I didn't get it. Now that I do, I can't stop laughing.

Speaking in Code

So, I was sitting at the coffee shop, when I was engaged in a random conversation with a guy at the end of the bar.

He was about 50, a little disheveled but not quite out of place. He seemed nice enough. And he obviously liked talking to people.

Not that I spend a lot of time at the coffee shop, but I didn't recognize him. He later tells me that this was his first time in the coffee shop and he really enjoyed it. After that moment, we shoot the breeze about whether I was a student, where I attended school and where I worked now.

Ah, the holy trinity of conversation topics when people don't know how to approach me and they see that I am not wearing a wedding ring.

Again, he seemed nice enough. But I found myself a bit uncomfortable. He kept staring at me, especially when I was cracking jokes with my friends at the coffee shop and tipped my head back in laughter. I kept wondering why he was staring at me. It wasn't the typical ogling from prior encounters I had with men his age. It was like he was trying to figure me out.

Our stilted conversation drifted to my job. Unlike some people, he actually knew where World Vision was located. And even more so, he knew what we did.

Random Man: You guys do good work.
Me: We try. Its hard work.
Random Man: You're a humanitarian--did I say that right?
Me: Yes. We're a Christian humanitarian oranization.
Random Man: I like your work. [He touches his heart] And you are one of them, aren't you?

Them? I raise an eyebrow.

Random Man: I am, too.

Oh. He meant Christian.

What do you say to that? My offering was a shy smile and a paltry "I'm glad."

And then came the staring and his attempt to figure me out. At one point, one of my coffee shop friends came by and the conversation turned to the economy.

Random Man: I don't worry about it. Everything will turn out all right.
Me: Yes, it will.
Random Man: That's me. 24/7. I've been through three changes in the economy. But people like you and me don't need to worry.
Me: [Offering a small smile] I suppose you're right.

He laughs, as if I was confirming his suspicions about me. I try to shrug it off. But my own calculations were confirmed when he came to my corner before he left the store. He shook my hand, and whispered low:

Random Man: You're saved, aren't you?

It was a statement, not a question.

Suddenly all of his comments made sense. He was trying to figure out if I was saved. But he wasn't finished with his detective work.

Random Man: I knew it. I knew you were when you were talking. I knew you were a little uncomfortable, but it isn't about being saved.

Not really. I just have a hard time with strangers who stare at me. I never know what to say. And since I have lived a lifetime of being uncomfortable, this wasn't entirely new. But what he didn't know was that the past two weeks I had been dealing with my comfort level and how I interact with people--friends, family...and random strangers in my coffee shop.

Random Man: I think you're a very happy person. But you don't laugh very much, do you?

What I wanted to say was "I love to laugh." But what I said was the unfiltered truth.

Me: No. At least, not as of late. But it's getting better.
Random Man: You should. You have a great laugh. And I kept thinking that you need to laugh more. All I wanted to do was keep your smile on your face.

Hello, High Walls of Discomfort.

What do you say when the person you had just met sees so much about you? I was touched by his sensitive observations but I was also angry that just because he broke the code to our somewhat "secret" society, (which is a blog in of itself!) it doesn't mean he can tell me what he thinks needs to be fixed about me.

To be quite honest, I wasn't that angry. Uncomfortable, yes, but not angry. I don't know if the discomfort will go away when I meet up with people who stare at me. But Random Man was nice enough and I believe he did not mean me harm. The verdict is still out on how I feel about our conversation. I'm sure I won't see him again, at least not on this side of heaven. Apparently, that's what it means to be part of the same club. But I'm sure I'll be glad to see him again.

Its a wonder to me that these conversations with strangers are becoming more frequent. God is using people who don't know anything about me to reveal things that people don't often say to me. And I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that.

Losing Obsession

Ok. Last month, I declared that one of my goals was to get to a healthy body weight by next fall. My hope was that by living healthier was a good goal and one not based on vanity. I would focus on achieving a change in lifestyles instead of setting a concete goal in hopes that I won't become obsessed on how I look.

Vanity. It's all vanity.

And so, I made a silent pact with myself not to weigh myself. This came when I weighed myself last August after the stomach flu and toyed with the idea of becoming healthy. Eight weeks later, my friend asked me how much weight I had lost.

I must have made a face because she felt the need to explain herself. "You do know you're losing weight, right?"

Actually, I've been so good at denial, that I didn't even notice. I didn't think I had lost any weight. I look the same to me.

After much begging and prodding, she convinced me to weigh myself at the scale in our office space. She said that I would be surprised at the results. I didn't want to know, but then I did want to know...was any of this effort paying off?

And so I stepped onto that scale and slid the weights over to the right. I went straight to where I was before, and with utter surprise, I had to move it over to the left. I started with one notch. And then two. And seeing that I was making no progress moving it slowly, I slide it over the notch that was one pound less than where I was before.

No movement.

With a raised eyebrow I kept sliding the little weight that I had become so fearful of until the reader told me it was balanced.

Ten pounds.

Ten pounds? I blinked at disbelief. I then did the calculations in my head. Stats of every kind filled my brain. I then saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror and I still don't see the difference.

It was then that I realized how quickly I had stepped into obsession.

Vanity. All vanity.

So there's a fine line I'm walking. Although I'm proud of my achievement (even if I don't believe it) I don't want it to consume me. I'm still Abby. I was Abby ten pounds heavier and I am still Abby ten pounds lighter. I will still be Abby in Fall 2009 whether I lose the pounds or not. I intend to lose the pounds and my obsession...and not lose myself in the process.

But I will confess this: it feels good. And that's what I wanted to share at this random part of this journey.

Small Victories and Big Wins

Sunday was a good day.

Victory: I got out of bed.

Victory: I didn't avoid someone that I have been avoiding for a few months now. We still can't talk, but at least I'm trying. Maybe someday we'll have a real conversation.

Win: I made dinner last night that I was actually proud of and probably would serve to other people. Yes, I can almost cook.

Win: I went to the Y and realized that I had shaved off fifteen seconds from the mile for the third time in a row. It wasn't a fluke.

Victory (ish): I "stole" the church's keyboard for a few days. Due to poor planning, I dragged the heavy, cumbersome keyboard up a flight of stairs and into my apartment by myself. Don't know how I'm going to get it into my car Thursday morning.

Win: Because I stole the aforementioned keyboard, I got to spend three hours of playing piano and remembering how much I loved playing and how good I used to be. Great conversation with God through music. I am grateful that I can express how much I love God in this way.

I understand that there really isn't a difference between the victories and wins that I had listed. But it doesn't matter. Its been so long since I've actually had more in the column for victoriess and wins than for struggles and losses.

Yes. Sunday was a good day.

I lent voice to thought and that was my mistake

They say that saying it out loud helps.

A few days ago I admitted to a friend of mine the true struggle that lay beneath all the other struggles these past nine months. Now its out there, floating in the air. And I don't know what to do with it. However, saying it out loud did help me get out of bed the next morning. I was able to go to work, get through my normal every day life as I silently pondered what I was going to do.

I said it out loud--this stupid thing that brings so much shame. But I didn't feel better. I was running out of places to find the answers, and all I really wanted to do was get on with my life and function.

Although I did find myself annoyed more than comforted, I was pleasantly surprised by the people God had used to show me comfort and love. It wasn't those I had expected to extend a helping hand. Most of these people barely knew me, but still showed care. They didn't expect any details about my current trials. They didn't ask or prod, but tilted their heads and with a gentle voice told me that they loved me; were praying for me. They didn't have to know what was wrong--they only knew that something was wrong and offered me what they could--no matter how small the measurement.

It is amazing what a difference a smile makes. Or a caring touch. Or an impromptu dinner over news and politics. Or a hand firmly gripping mine, to offer whatever strength they had to help me get through whatever nameless thing I was going through.

My heart was moved by those who didn't offer words of advice, and led me to the care of God's hands. To those people, I am truly grateful. You may never know how bad it truly got, but each of your small smiles kept this failing heart going. Don't ever think that what you do is meaningless.

I just hope that someday I can return the favor.

My God loves me. And if there was any indication from the friends and random strangers he had used to show me this, I know this love is real.

They say that saying it out loud helps.