If it's Christmas, it's pink

 

 

My friend's mom, Ati, always liked the color pink. It was one of her favorite colors. And indeed, the very first time I met her, on a late afternoon in October of 2002, she was wearing a soft pink sweater. Now, when I look back on our relationship, the color pink is right there in my mind, an aura that is represents the love and the care and the gentleness in our friendship.

 

I've also heard that pink is a color that represents healing. Ati was always such a healing presence in everyone’s life, and such a comfort. You just felt so much better after talking with her, like everything was going to be okay. When you needed her, she was there, offering a hug and an uplifting word. Or maybe a joke that would ease the tension of the situation. Or a compassionate look, a listening ear, a gentle smile. She was the healing color of pink in everyone's life.

 

Ati's daughter did not like pink. She preferred darker colors, black and gray and navy blue. Ati knew this and so, when I came into Ati's life, I suddenly became the recipient of everything pink. I will always remember that first gift from Ati, for Christmas 2002: a white shirt with a pink flower on it. That started the trend, and from then on, at each Christmas I got pink shirts, pink pajamas, and even pink shoes as gifts. I was bombarded with pink things. However, what Ati didn’t know was that I didn’t really like the color pink either! But I couldn’t tell her that, could I? She had already been unable to shop for pink things for her daughter, and I didn't want to hurt her feelings. Her daughter always laughed every time I got a pink gift, probably out of relief that she was no longer the recipient. 

 

An interesting thing happened, though; over the years, I began to develop a taste for the color pink. It was always associated with Ati, and in this way, I became a fan. I liked wearing the pink pajamas because they made me think of her, especially since she had a matching purple pair. I liked the pink shirt. I never got into wearing the pink shoes (they didn't match anything I owned), but I couldn't bear to throw them out. They made me happy, just to look at them.

 

Another interesting thing happened over the years: Ati's daughter started to wear pink as well! Pink sweaters, pink blouses… wearing pink made her feel closer to her mom. Ati managed to convert both of us into pink people.

 

Ati was a very special person in my life. She was loving, kind, and maternal. She was so full of love and life and warm, wonderful feelings. And while she held, and will always hold, an important role in my life, she always thought about the other people I had in my life as well... relationships that needed repairing, connections that could be restored. And she always wanted to do whatever she could to help those reparations happen. Ati was always generous and warm, having such a healing effect on people. She is the color pink.

Loving intensely

Two Christmas Eves ago, I texted an overseas friend to wish her happy holidays. We had only become friends a couple of weeks before, but it was one of those friendships that starts out really strongly. I felt like I'd always known her. Actually, a couple days after I met her, I already felt like she was a part of my family.

When I texted her, I didn't expect a response. I knew she was with her family, and it was Christmas, after all. But not long after I sent my message, my phone lit up. Her reply was loving and intense, just like she is. Lots of exclamations, capital letters, and terms of endearment all packed into a little message.

People have all sorts of ways of expressing love. There is a book by Dr. Gary Chapman called The 5 Love Languages. It identifies the 5 major "languages of love" as the following:
1) quality time
2) words of affirmation
3) gifts
4) acts of service
5) physical touch

You can have one preferred way of receiving love, and one preferred way of expressing love to others. Sometimes those match up, and sometimes they don't. I know that for me, I feel loved by all 5 of the ways of expressing love, but I feel most loved by quality time and words of affirmation. I am not sure how I express love the best to others.

I get the feeling that I express love in the same manner in which I have been loved. I think about all the people who have loved me in my life: family members, friends, the pets I've had, acquaintances, friends of friends, strangers, people in other countries, people who started out disliking me and then grew to like me... I have grown and become a better person with each example, each experience of love in my life. I don't know how to explain it except to say that as I grow older and experience more love, my definition of love becomes broader and broader. And I have to thank each and every person who has ever loved me; everyone adds a new perspective of love to my consciousness.

Now, let's look at the source of this love and other examples of love in our lives: to me, that source of love is God. And because we are God's creation, we love people and are in turn loved back by people. And sometimes we love pretty intensely, and are loved back pretty intensely. Sometimes it is more relaxed, and may take a while for the full extent of the love to be shown or expressed. And each way of loving, each expression of love, is a blessing and a gift from God.

All love comes from above. One of my favorite verses talks about gifts: "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights" (James 1:17). Whatever good we have in our life is a reflection of the goodness of God, a gift that is given to us, His beloved children. The amount that God loves us is more than we will ever understand here on earth. Jesus loves intensely, God loves intensely, and likewise, we reflect their love when we love people, animals, and the world around us.

However, even though we are loved by God, sometimes love can seem unexpected, foreign, even undeserved. In my own life, I look back at even just the past year, and there were so many times when a friend or family member reached out to me, loved me, and I didn't know what to do or say. The amount of love that I felt was so strong, so overwhelming, but in a good way. This amount of love made me so grateful for life and everything in it. Every day was like a present that I was opening, to discover what goodness it contained.

Along these same lines, the friend I texted a couple years ago was so intensely loving from the get-go, and I didn't know how to respond at first. She began our friendship by telling me she was upset with me for not introducing myself when I first saw her. "You didn't come over. You denied me the opportunity to give you a hug." How does one respond to that? This person had so much love to give, so much affection, that she never let me forget that day when she was denied the opportunity to express some of that love. Later in our friendship, when I would get down on myself about something, she would say, "What are you talking about? You are WONDERFUL! Any other thinking is like when you thought you were going to bother me by saying hello that one time..." I definitely didn't feel that I deserved the amount of love that she was pouring out, but at the same time, it opened my eyes to another example of incredible love that was a direct reflection of God's love.

Why do we ever feel unworthy of this love, from people or from God? The Bible tells us, "See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God" (1 John 3:1). We are His children, He is our Father. How could we ever doubt that He loves us, or that we are lovable? Of course, as humans we all make mistakes; we all stumble and have challenges and sometimes don't act in ways that demonstrate our highest selves. But God, as our parent, will always love us, and we, as His children, will always be lovable and worthy of that love. If we could only see ourselves as God sees us... or even, for that matter, as our dearest friends see us. We would be a lot more patient with ourselves, and definitely more loving towards ourselves.

Mindy Jostyn has a wonderful song, In His Eyes, which always helps me in seeing that I am worthy of being loved. An excerpt is below:

"In His eyes, you're a fire that never goes out
A light on the top of a hill.

Now and forever, that light never dies
You're dearly beloved in His eyes."

If we could see the way that God sees us, it would change our views of ourselves, and of those around us. We are all worthy of love, and of being recognized as precious children of God.

There is another bible passage which has brought me a lot of comfort this past year, about how God helps us because He loves us so dearly.

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.
He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes, who were too strong for me.
They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
but the Lord was my support. 
He brought me out into a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me."
-- 2 Samuel 22:17-20

Many times this year, I focused on the last line: "He rescued me because he delighted in me." And I would remind myself that as my Heavenly Father, He loved me as one of His precious daughters. I kept thinking about all the (sometimes overwhelming) love I felt in my life from people and from my dog, and how much greater His love for me was. That is a lot of love, an incomprehensible amount of love. Intense.

I am so grateful for the gift of feeling love for God's creation, and for feeling love from God's creation. And I am so grateful for the source of all of our love, the One who loves us the most intensely of all.

Rolling down the path - some thoughts on life and death

Life and death, loss and grief, love and the eternal. In the past 2 days in light of what happened in Connecticut, and then in the past 6 weeks in light of losing a close friend of mine, I've been thinking a lot about these things. Today a thought came to me that gave me some comfort.

We often see our existence in 2 phases: the time we are alive, living on this earth; and the time when we have passed on, and our "being" is no longer occupying a tangible, breathing body. I see our existence this way; I know many people do. But I think these 2 phases differ only in their appearance or in the perspective of those who are alive on this earth. When we pass away, when our loved ones experience loss in our passing, I have heard the person who has passed on described as being "in the next room." Our souls, our actual identities as "beings," don't change; we have always been and will always be God's son or daughter and one of his divine ideas.

Today, when thinking about the recent losses in our nation and in my own experience, I pictured a ball rolling down a path. The ball represented our entire existence, both on this earth and then afterwards for eternity. Let's picture that the path is lined by trees, and that the ball is rolling through the darkness of the shade. Then suddenly, the line of trees ends, and the ball continues rolling under the sunshine. The path is lit up brightly, and the ball continues on its journey, rolling down the path.

At no point did the ball ever stop rolling; it didn't even slow down. I see this as our identity: even when we pass on, our identity and our being doesn't ever stop or slow down. We are just moving along down the path. Likewise, there is not a second when we are out of God's love or out of His care. Just as the ball didn't stop when it got to the end of the shade, and start again once it entered the sunlight, God didn't stop being right with us. He is right there for our entire journey.

It comforted me somewhat to think about this path that we take, especially when thinking about the children in Connecticut. Their existence as beautiful, wonderful, precious children of God never stopped, and was never interrupted. On earth, their loved ones and the survivors may see an interruption and a stopping point: I definitely did when I learned that my friend had passed away. But this idea today gave me a bit of hope, and made me feel so close with God. He is right there, right next to us, walking down the path with us whether we are in the shade or in the sunlight.

Thank God I Missed My Flight

Two years ago today, a couple friends and I were packing up and getting ready to fly back home from the UK. We'd just explored Spain, Andorra, and finished off the trip with a few days in Britain. I checked with my friends, and they informed me that our flight wasn't until 4pm. Good, I thought. I have time to go to church beforehand.

I stumbled out of bed Sunday morning and was alarmed to realize it was already 10:15. Church started at 11am, and I had no idea where it was. The UK-dwelling friend we were staying with came upstairs and said, "You ready to go?" I was so grateful she was going to walk me there, even though it was apparent she had just gotten up as well. I quickly changed into a hooded sweatshirt and wrinkled pants, and we headed out the door.

Once there, I was surprised by how warm and friendly people were, even with my obvious disheveled look. I hope they didn't think that all Americans look like that, just me. :) But I was welcomed with smiles and kind words upon walking through the door, and I felt immediately at home. Since then, this church has become my UK church... I've attended their services 2 other times, and I always feel so incredibly welcome. After chatting with some people there, I found a seat and waited for the service to begin.

At the time, I was struggling with something... it was an internal struggle, something that was happening on an emotional level. It had come up a few times during the trip, and I had been praying and thinking about a solution. But what was interesting was that as soon as I walked through the doors of the church, I felt immediately at peace. I felt so much love in that church. And once the readings from the bible lesson started, I was amazed at how applicable they were to the issue I was having. It was like each scripture and verse was written just for me, to specifically address my personal concerns. It was profound.

In that moment, I closed my eyes and felt God's presence more than I'd ever felt it in my entire life. I felt like I was being wrapped up in a hug. It was amazing. And I felt some healing happening with the struggle that I had been feeling only moments before. And then the thought came, "This is how I want to feel, and this is where I want to be."

Also, I connected with someone there who would later become a dear friend. Just being in their church seemed to bring us together, and a wonderful friendship blossomed from that starting point. So all in all, it was a great morning.

After church, I got my friends and we headed to the airport. And immediately found out that our flight had left a couple hours before; what my friends had seen where it said, "16:00" was actually the departure time of our connecting flight, a brief layover in another country. After waiting in line for a few hours, it seemed our only option was to take the same flight the next day. We would be charged for the difference in airfare (about $600 each, about a third of what I had spent on the entire trip), and would have to find a hotel room that night. We sent some frantic emails to our workplaces as obviously we would not be coming in to work the next morning, and then dejectedly left the airport. I hardly slept that night, fearing that we would sleep in and miss the flight again and have to pay even more money.

Later, probably weeks later, I became so grateful for what happened. I realized that I wouldn't have changed what had happened for anything in the world, as the experience I had in that church was one of those truly great experiences of my life. It was so life-changing for me, in ways that I cannot even begin to explain here. And despite the annoyance or inconvenience of missing our flight, that was probably one of the greatest mistakes I've ever made in my life. And even more recently, the past month or so, I have been even more grateful that this happened. What a gift that morning church service was, in so many ways.

We never know what will happen in our lives. We don't know the good that can come from something that seems like a negative event. But God knows; He knows what's happening, and what we may need or want in our lives even before we do. And I am so grateful that He knows and provides these wonderful moments in my life.

The First Year of Gratitude

I'm thinking about gratitude today... and how much there is to be grateful for. There is so much good in the world, so much love, and I am so grateful that God created us with the ability to feel all of the beauty, compassion, gentleness, and love that is around us. Even when we don't feel the love, we know that God is love (1 John 4:8), and since God is always present, the love is always there.

For as long as I can remember, I have always felt grateful for the love in my life; the kindnesses, the acts of compassion, the times when I felt God's presence, the friends and family who somehow saved me, both figuratively and literally. But this year is different; I can't remember any other year in my life where I have felt so intensely grateful, gratitude that has bowled me over time and time again. There are so many instances every single day that cause this overwhelming feeling of gratitude to well up inside of me. And because I can't remember any year when I felt quite this grateful, I am calling this "The First Year of Gratitude." (Strangely enough, this has also been the toughest year, but I addressed that topic in an earlier blog.) It is the first year where I have felt it permeate every moment, every nook and cranny, of every day. And in the future, I hope that I can always remember to be grateful, whether I am having a rough time or an easy time or whatever may be going on.

One day this past July, I was walking along the ocean. I'd been having a hard time with things, and had been contemplating my life: there were a lot of circumstances that I didn't know what to do about. But I knew that life was good and was a gift from God, and I knew that it could be better than it was currently. I'd recently had a "rainbows and balloons" moment, which is what I call the feeling I get when I am overcome with an incredible feeling of joy, and the knowledge that life is pretty fantastic. It had been a while since I'd felt that feeling, and when it showed up again I was so grateful. At one point on that ocean walk, I just stopped and closed my eyes... I felt the wind on my face, I listened to the seagulls calling to each other, and I breathed in the salty air. I had such a sense of stillness and of peace. The verse "Peace, be still" (Mark 4:39) came to me then, and for a full minute I just stood there. I thought of everything in my life, all the gifts and the blessings, and I was so grateful.

When thinking about limitless gratitude, countless things to be grateful for, I sometimes view the start of a day as a blank piece of paper. If I think of any single day in my life starting out as that blank paper, waiting to be written on, I see that the good that is present in my life fills up the paper pretty quickly. I know that there are countless things that happen each day, each hour, I can be grateful for. Maybe it is Vinnie snuggling up next to me in the morning, gently reminding me that I've hit the snooze button 4 times already. Or rushing to work and discovering that someone has brought bagels to share. Or a mid-morning phone call from a friend, who simply says, "I was just thinking of you and wanted to check in." A loving email. A funny dog video on YouTube that a friend sends me. A nice conversation with a coworker. A joke that a client can't wait to tell me. Running for the bus and realizing that both the bus and I are exactly 3 minutes late, in perfect synchronicity. Receiving a check in the mail that is the exact amount that those new brakes are going to cost. A hymn at church that speaks directly to my heart and is exactly what I need to hear. I find that no matter what happens, no matter what is going on in my life, at the end of the day there are more things written on that paper that fall under the "grateful" side than the "this sucks" side. It is an amazing feeling when we realize how many gifts are actually present, little or big things, that can make such a difference.

And each of those things is a gift from God. One of my favorite verses talks about these gifts. "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights" (James 1:17). Any good thing that happens in our day is like a personalized present from God, a time when God says, "I thought you could use this today," or, "Let me make this a little easier for you; I've got your back." I think about Him being there with us, talking with us, knowing that all is well and helping us maneuver through our lives as we also discover, although at a much slower pace, that all is well.

This is not to discount the rough days, or the times when things are really difficult or traumatizing. We all have those moments, those times in our lives where we don't know what to do. And on numerous occasions, I am not proud to admit, I have mentally compiled a list of things that were going wrong in my life. It made me feel vindicated, somehow justified, for how horrible I was feeling. When it seems the odds are stacked against you or that nothing is going right, life can seem pretty unfair and harsh. I can only speak from my experience, but I know that even during these horrible times we sometimes find ourselves in, God is always present. There has always been some comfort, some glimmer of hope, that has been there just when I needed it. In those tough moments over the past year, I am so grateful that I somehow found the ounce of strength (or desperation, not sure which) that it took to try and find one good thing. I have a friend who once told me, "Just find one good thought, and hang on to it." That was so helpful. Just one good idea, one moment with God... one phone call that I could make or email that I could write to a friend who could help me get some perspective or give me something to lean on until I found my footing again. And when that happened, what I found was that I was so grateful for anything that wasn't dark, that had some bit of hope or happiness, that it somehow turned the tables on how I was feeling. Once I had a good thought in my head, a little bit of inspiration and hope, it sort of grew until it took over every other thing that was unlike it. And that just shows me one more thing I'm grateful for: the power of good to overcome anything not good. Obviously, we may still need some time to work through things, some prayer or some extra help, but in those dark times a little light makes all the difference and can motivate us to even want to take those extra steps.

I am so grateful for each gift in my life, and for God and His presence. I am also so grateful for the ways He shows love to us: through nature, through our connections with other people, through animals, through His ideas. God, Love, is all around. I am grateful for this year, this First Year of Gratitude, and for the many more years in my life to come where I will have the opportunity to express and feel this love and gratitude. What a gift.

- Thanksgiving 2012

Time and Anniversaries

Time and memories and anniversaries are strange things, and too huge of topics to adequately address in a single blog post. However, I have some ideas and experiences I’d like to share.

I realized that exactly a year ago today I was wandering around London, looking for a church that I wasn’t sure I was going to find. I’d been to that church the previous year in 2010, but at that time a London-dwelling friend had walked me there, so obviously I had tuned out on the way over and had no idea where it was. J This time, I searched back and forth through several neighborhoods, up and down windy streets, with no international GPS on my phone to help me. I started to panic. It was important to me to go to this church, and what if I couldn’t find it? After at least an hour, maybe two, I finally stumbled across it, hidden away on a remote street.

I can’t adequately describe the sense of elation I felt right then; that church, although I’d only been once before, had felt like my church away from home. (For another post on church being “home,” click here.) The time I attended in 2010 was one of the most loving, spiritual moments of my life; I remember feeling that God was so close, embracing me, and I felt so peaceful and, well, so loved. So this time, in 2011, tears immediately came to my eyes as soon as I realized I’d found it again. I was relieved, and super excited to be able to attend again. And to top it all off, one of my dear friends attended that church, and I couldn’t wait to see her.  

(Speaking of anniversaries, something else happened that same night that I remember because it was so substantial. As I was walking home from the church, my foot started aching for no reason that I could figure out. I was alarmed to find that I couldn’t do much walking around for the next 5 days. I had a pretty amazing healing, which I’ll write about more extensively in another post.)

The concept of time and anniversaries is so present in our lives. We live in a society that is bound to a calendar. We have day planners, online schedules, time frames… Some of us even have an “internal clock” and can almost pinpoint the time, without checking our cell phone or watch. We are constantly being reminded what time it is, where we have to be in 5 minutes, what our next commitment is. It has become so ingrained into our nature and our way of doing things. I wonder if we rely on calendars too much; there are good sides and bad sides to being so aware of time, and I’ll talk about both below.

Sometimes this dependence, this obsession, with time can seem like a ball and chain. I had a boss who always said, “When I retire, I’m going to sit on the beach and never wear a watch again.” I loved that. The Bible says, “With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day” (2 Peter 3:8). God does not have the same idea of time as we do. He is not limited in His view of time, and being eternal and infinite, He has no beginning and no end. It definitely gives us another perspective of existence, if we think about ourselves as God’s creation and as having no spiritual beginning or end. Likewise, Jesus seemed to have the same timelessness. ”Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). And I feel that we are like that, too. Obviously we change and progress and grow, but there was never a time where there wasn’t a “Katie.” Even before I was born, and long after I die, I was and will be an idea of God’s. No beginning and no end.

On the advantageous side, time is useful with work and planning events, and it definitely helps us be more efficient. If I could just roll into work at any hour of the day and leave whenever I felt I’d spent enough “time” there, I’d probably be there about 3 hours each day. This would obviously be a problem. Many of us adhere to the 40hour/week work schedule (or 50, or 60…) and while it may seem rigid at times, it helps us be productive and get things done. In that sense, having a concept of time is essential. Many industries rely on time and schedules as the main “product” they are selling, such as airlines, train stations, the US Postal Service, schools, farmers, etc. Here, time is integral to the quality of the service.

As with time, remembering anniversaries can also have a positive side as well as a negative side. I think that the anniversaries in our lives can give us opportunities to recall important events, whether they were happy or sad. If they were happy, they are a time for celebration and rejoicing. We can relive our wedding day or the days our children were born or the day we graduated college. However, if the event was sad or was a day of loss, these anniversaries can give us opportunities to remind ourselves of the love in our lives. I think about the day that my friend’s mom passed away a few years ago, and each year on that date we call each other and share a loving story, recall a funny memory, or just check in with each other to say, “I was thinking about you today and I love you.”

What I don’t want to do with anniversaries is to get wrapped up in regret or guilt. Sometimes I find myself thinking, longingly, “If only it were last year at this same time… I would have done things differently.” This is not helpful thinking, and makes me feel bad instead of looking forward. If an anniversary just makes me feel like beating myself up, then it is useless. But if I can embrace the good that is present, and exists yesterday and today and tomorrow, then it can be a time for healing and a time for love.

Today I’m focusing on the gratitude and the relief I felt when I stumbled across my “London church” last year. It will always be a special place for me, and I am grateful that something that happened a year ago, 2 years ago, 10 years ago, can still positively affect my experience today.

"All is well."

This summer I had the opportunity to watch many beautiful sunsets. One of my favorite things about sunsets is the amazing range of colors of the clouds. They look one particular way before the sun touches the horizon, another way while the sun seems to be dipping below the horizon, and then yet another way a few minutes after the sun has disappeared. In each of these stages, the colors of the clouds change, the intensity of the light varies, and it's like watching a completely different scene from one minute to the next. But we all know that it's the same scene; the same sun, the same clouds, the same location. Recently, I've been thinking about these 3 cloud pictures as an analogy for when someone passes away. The clouds don't change, but what changes is our perspective, our view, of the clouds. Their essence, their being, their identity as a creation of God, doesn't change. They may just look or seem a little different when we look at them with our human concepts of time or space.

 

Last week I found out that one of my dear friends had recently passed away. It was a total shock to me. I found that part of me, about 99% of me, didn't believe it was real. That night after I found out the news, I remember I woke up about a million times, each time thinking, "Did that really happen?" And each time, it hit me again: yes, it's still true. I was in freefall; I felt like someone had pushed me out of an airplane without checking to make sure I had a parachute.

And then, when I thought I was going to smash into the ground, things started to slow down a bit. I felt like I was surrounded by love, both the love that she feels for me, and the love that I feel for her. I experienced a couple of moments where I felt her presence so much; whether it was something someone said that she always used to say, or it was something that happened that I had connected to my friendship with her... And then I realized that there were many other things that I could point to, other instances from the past two months that she'd been gone, that made me think of her. I hadn't known she'd passed away right away, but when I looked back on that time period, it was easy to see several other instances where I felt that she was there. For one, I couldn't stop thinking about her this Fall, and I didn't know why she was on my mind so much. One of the most interesting things was that right around the time she passed away, I took a picture of the sun and clouds, and the sun came through in a heart shape.

 

In the past week, I've found myself going through old emails, texts, phone conversations... and discovered that the last thing this person said to me was, "Don't worry. All is well." At first, I became angry when I realized this was her last message to me. I wanted to say to her, "What do you mean, 'All is well'? It obviously wasn't." And then, in the midst of my anger, a friend gently pointed out, "I think that is exactly what she would like to say to you right now." As I thought about this, I started to wonder if she was right, that maybe all was well.

She, like all of us, is a spiritual being, made by God who is all spiritual. Just because I can't see her anymore doesn't mean she is not here or that she is somehow "gone." In some ways, she is more present than ever before. When we weren't able to communicate much or see each other, it was because of material restrictions. Time, physical distance, money, challenges, obligations... And now there are no restrictions on her presence or on my experiencing her right here, right with me.

The night before I found out she had passed, I was feeling agitated and nervous. I could not get to sleep. I was thinking about her because I had planned to call her the next morning, and as I was tossing and turning I remembered a phone conversation we'd had, about a year and a half before. At that time, I was also feeling agitated, and I called to talk with her. After a few seconds, she calmly said, "Let's take a deep breath. Let's breathe in, hold it, exhale... Okay, now let's do it again." She was thousands of miles away, but somehow, thanks to cell phones, she was helping me to breathe normally. I was grateful then, and was also incredibly grateful that that recollection came to me at that moment. Her love, the expression of God's love, was right there.

I thought I had lost her friendship in my life. I hadn't heard from her, we had lost our connection, and I was feeling pretty bad about it. Had I done something wrong? Did she not love me anymore? But in the past week I am realizing that she never left. It may have appeared that way, but again, that was just the material picture, constrained to the material ways of communicating. She was always there, whether I received an email or a call from her or not. She always said to me, "I don't want you ever thinking I'm ignoring you... if I don't answer, it's because I'm on the road, or I don't have service." And when we seemed to have lost our connection, I think that was a time when she didn't have "service," so to speak. It just wasn't possible to be in contact then, but she was always there. And after such a long separation, I finally feel like we are reconnecting... I am thinking about her, recalling all the funny, happy memories, and even talking with her sometimes. It's like she never left; she is right with me.

Over the summer, as I was watching one particular sunset, I had an interesting realization. After the sun disappeared behind the horizon, I had expected the sky to become darker, maybe more gloomy; after all, the sun was no longer visible. But somehow, the opposite effect occured; the clouds lit up, even intensified, and displayed the most amazing pink and orange color. It was beautiful.

 

 

"I am right here for you anytime," she once told me. And I know that's true. Even after her passing, she loves just as intensely as when she was here on Earth. It's like she is letting me know, adamantly, that she was not ignoring me, much like how adamant she was about things when she was here on Earth.

Now, it's so obvious to me that the love that existed in our friendship is there just as strong as ever. And each time I feel a bit of sadness or loss, I just remind myself that love is never lost, no person is ever lost, and all is well.

Limitless Love

Limitless love... The term is similar to unconditional love or unlimited love, 2 other terms which make me think of God's love for us. "Unconditional love" makes me think of a love that endures and continues, no matter what. "Unlimited love" makes me think of love that never ends, that draws from a deep well, a never-ending source. However, with the word "limitless," I get more of a sense of love that transcends the ordinary limits, or walls, that we may place around ourselves or around our love for others. And this type of love has been on my mind lately.

Recently I have been thinking about one of my Persian friends. At some point early on in our friendship, she invited me into her family and said that I was like a daughter to her. And she knew I already had a mom; of course she knew that. My mom was actually the most important thing to her in her relationship with me. She would always ask about her, ask how my mom was doing, always send her love... But she knew, as many people know, that you can never have too much love in your life. And one love (like a person), does not replace, or diminish, another love (or person).

The limitless way she loved me, "adopting" me into her family and loving me as her daughter, was so life-changing for me. I had never seen love like that, love that went beyond the ordinary societal definitions of family. It expanded my perspective on families and connections and love. I had seen examples of it in books and movies (The Secret Life of Bees, Maniac Magee, Precious, You Bet Your Life, The Blind Side), and somehow, even as a young girl, the idea of an extended definition of family touched a remote place in my heart. Those were the stories I always liked. I still like, actually.

Our interactions and conversations in the community were kind of funny sometimes. When we were at the store or at an event, she would always introduce me as her "younger daughter." People would give her a surprised look, looking from her to me and back again. She would just smile, hardly ever offering an explanation. But it didn't matter; soon everyone knew me as her daughter, and would even refer to me that way. And once they all believed it, I started to believe it too. I sort of settled into the role, and knew that while I had my biological family, I also had this second, this Persian, family. This was like my bonus family, and she became my bonus mom. And, as I said above, you can never have too much love. Or too many bonus moms, for that matter. The most basic definition of a "mom" is someone who loves and cares and protects... and even, as mentioned above, loves unconditionally, unlimitedly, and limitlessly. Who can have too much of that?

Recently, at a Persian/Afghani wedding ceremony, I was looking around me and noticed that many of our college friends had gone home for the night. Those that remained were Persians and Afghanis. And I felt right at home. I thought to myself, "How did I get to this point, where I can be in a room with hundreds of Persians and Afghanis and feel like I belong?" It was a surreal moment for me. And a bit comical, because sometimes life is just so strange and wonderful.

Jesus had an interesting comment about family members. "And the multitude sat about him, and they said unto him, Behold, thy mother and thy brethren without seek for thee. And he answered them, saying, Who is my mother, or my brethren? And he looked round about on them which sat about him, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother" (Mark 3:32-35). His view of family was a lot broader than what was considered the societal norm of the day. Jesus recognized the expanded definition of "family," and functioned under that definition as he preached the gospel with his disciples and followers.

Our love for people can certainly expand beyond our immediate or extended family... beyond our circle of friends, beyond people from our same culture or ethnic background or economic background. This became clear to me when one day, early in our friendship, she sent me a short email. Just long enough to include, "We never had a similar experience before. You made me to think in a broader horizon regarding people in other cultures. I never thought I could be so close and happy with someone who doesn't share the same culture yet so sensitive and full of beautiful feelings that made a difference in the meaning of the word 'relationship.'"
It was at that moment that I knew I was special to her; it wasn't just Persian "tarof" (politeness) or just words... it was how she actually felt. And this connection with her changed my life. I know it changed hers, too; she wasn't shy about telling me that, and each time she did, I felt such a warmth around me, like a big hug.

I have had so much love in my life. From family members, from friends, acquaintances, coworkers, people in my community, strangers... And with each person in my life, each experience of love, I feel God's presence. And I feel so blessed.

In my life, I hope to love like this, limitlessly, unconditionally, unlimitedly. Jesus was all about love, and if we can live and love even close to that manner, I think we are on the right track. Love love love. "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love" (1 Cor. 13:13).

Gratitude during an unexpected time

I am so grateful for so many things. And for some reason, it seems that this year has been so full of gratitude, more than any other year of my life. What is so special about this year? I have a theory.

So, 2012 has been the most difficult year of my life. Physically, mentally, financially, spiritually... It's certainly been interesting, if not at times overwhelming, frustrating, scary, and uncomfortable. Not sure why so many things seem out of alignment this year, all at once. But I'll get it all figured out, little by little. Also, that's not the point of this post. The point is that, while this has been the worst year of my life in many ways, it has also somehow been the best year of my life. How does that even make any sense? The WORST year somehow is also the BEST year? Read on and maybe I can explain.

Obviously, there have been some wonderful things that have happened this year. Ethiopia stuff. New jobs. Skydiving. Best Seattle Summer Ever. Teaching my little sister how to drive. Beaches. Road trips. My older sister's wedding. Starting to paint. Discovering music again, after a bit of an absence. Getting some articles published. Connecting with new and long-term friends. Connecting with family... The list is endless.  And then there are the things that are less obvious: feeling so much love from people. More importantly, feeling love FOR people. The generosity (of time, money, energy, resources, ideas) of friends and family. Phone calls that come just when I need them. Uplifting texts or emails. A smile, gentle word, or hug. Feeling God's presence so strongly, almost tangibly. The compassion in my life. The laughter. The rainbows-and-balloons feeling, when I feel so elated that I might just float away.

But that's not why it has been the best year. It's not about the "good things" that have happened; and anyway, I believe that it is not what happens to us but how we react to and process what happens. It's been the BEST YEAR because of this amazing cloud of gratitude that I've been floating on for months now. I don't remember ever feeling as much gratitude as I have felt this year; it's like I'm super sensitive to anything good that happens, and my "gratitude sensor" is on overdrive. Before, I don't think I had so much gratitude for all the love in my life, or all the instances of friendship and kindness and generosity that were expressed. No matter what is happening from day to day, I can always think about something good from that day, or from earlier that month or year, and feel all of the gratitude all over again. And gratitude, by its inherent nature, is a double gift anyway; the actual gift from God or a friend or family member, and then the gratitude for the gift, which feels like a warm blanket wrapping us up in love.

Sometimes I wonder if there is a correlation between all of the challenges and all of the gratitude from this year. It can't just be a coincidence. This makes me think of a bible verse about trials: "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds" (James 1:2). I haven't been grateful for the challenges, but somehow the trials seem to make me more grateful in how I view life. When we are at our lowest, we are more vulnerable; maybe this also means we are more able to recognize the good that is present, because it is a like a light in a tunnel of darkness. Let's look at an analogy here: If I am walking outside on a sunny day, and someone hands me a flashlight, I might not recognize the benefit of this flashlight. But if it is dark and I am walking through the forest, bumping into things and tripping and falling into pits and ravines, the flashlight makes such a huge difference. At that point, the flashlight can be life-saving. It is so appreciated, can mean the difference between life or death, and when it is given with love, it just changes the way we perceive our whole experience. Suddenly things don't seem nearly as daunting, and we can move forward when before we felt like we were stuck. It's not that the flashlight on a sunny day was somehow less of a flashlight than the one on a dark evening, but the receiver is so much more grateful for it when they are in the darkness. Likewise in my life, every good thing, kind gesture, generous action, even light-hearted conversation or invitation to get ice cream, has made such a difference this year. I cannot even express how much of a difference it has made. And maybe, if I hadn't gone through these trials, I wouldn't have been as attentive to all of the good in my life that was happening at the exact same time. In some cases, the bad times drew out the blessings; not that I would ever choose to do this all again, but even in the worst times, there was always a silver lining. Something positive that happened, a kind word from a friend, a door opening, a card, a hug, a number of different things that touched my heart.

One final point. The 2 sides of the coin of this year, the best and the worst, don't cancel each other out. I'm not saying, "The good and the bad come together and equal a perfect medium." No. There are some challenging issues that need to be resolved, because I am not going to accept them as a part of my life any longer. They are not following me into 2013, or even November, if I can help it. But also, the goodness that has happened this year in my life cannot be diminished, or become part of the "average" of the best and the worst. The best things can't be considered less because of worse things. So despite all the challenges, or maybe even because of them, I am so grateful for 2012. Best Year Ever.

In summary, I am so incredibly grateful for all of the good and the love and the grace in my life. And to my friends and family, thank you for being such amazing gifts in my life.

Failure vs. Victory

In a couple of my blog posts from August (The God Bank and My Conversation with God), I mentioned some recent challenges I've been having in my relationship with God.  There's some confusion there, some doubts, and even something that feels a little like anger. And along with these thoughts and feelings, I've also been dealing with the suggestion that I've failed; failed in my faith, in my religion, in my connection with God. I ask myself, Why don't I have more faith? Why do I sometimes wonder where God is? Why can't I fix these problems using my religion? It's hard feeling like I'm failing time and time again, first because of the challenges I've stumbled into, and second, because I have some potential solutions in front of me and still can't seem to get results. However, instead of seeing these as failures, maybe there's another way to look at what's happening. 

A few months ago, I was listening to a radio show on faith and victory. The speaker, Channing Walker,  was talking about Jesus and how we can have faith in his teachings. He was also talking about Peter, when he was in a boat with the other disciples when the wind and waves started causing the boat to thrash about.  The disciples called for help, and so Jesus walked on the water and quieted the storm. Peter, seeing Jesus walking on the water, went out to join him. 

"And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me" (Matthew 14:29-30). 

At this point, we can think any number of things of Peter : Was he brave? Was he a coward? Why did he want to join Jesus on the water? Why did he doubt? 

What Channing Walker suggested was that Peter's actions signified more of a victory than a failure. He showed faith and courage when he stepped out of the boat, so much so that he was able to walk on water. Yes, he started sinking when he looked at the waves and the wind and all that was going on around him, but he made that first step of faith. He did something that the other disciples did not even attempt, and in that moment he was victorious. Can you even imagine how much faith it must have taken to be able to walk on water, even for just a couple of seconds? 

I feel that many times, God wants us to try; even if we're scared, even if we don't know what the outcome will be, we can still TRY. And because Jesus reached out his hand when Peter started sinking, we can expect  the same kind of support when we need it. God is love, and He responds to our needs with love. 

When I feel a lack of faith or trust in God, I find it extremely helpful to think about Peter's experience. I also think about moments in my own walk with God, times when I trusted Him and trusted what He was doing in my life, no matter how daunting the waves and the storm seemed to be at the time. And each time, God was there, reaching out His hand to keep me from sinking. 

"He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters" (2 Samuel 22:17).

And in these times of doubt, I try to see each step forward as victorious. Even if they are small, mere baby steps. Even if it's 1 step forward, 2 steps backward. Even if I sink a little bit before calling out to God to save me. And these are all still victories... because I'm trying. I'm not just sitting in the boat, looking at the waves and giving up. I'm trying to get closer to Jesus, trying to walk out to him. To me, any step that gets me closer to God, anything that moves me forward, is not failing. 

Truth and lies - Being mistaken for Russian

When I worked at the college a few years ago, one of my fellow teachers asked me if I spoke Russian. I answered, "No, I speak Spanish," thinking that she simply mistook the 2 languages when we were learning about each other's educational backgrounds. 

Some time later, she asked me why I didn't speak Russian. I looked at her a bit funny, and told her that I decided to study Spanish instead. She then asked, "Why didn't your parents make sure you learned Russian? Didn't you speak it in the house growing up?" I looked at her even more strangely, and told her my parents didn't speak any other languages; they were born in the United States, their parents were born in the United States, and past that... Well, Norway and Wales. Not Russia. 

She started laughing. "Oh! I've always thought you were Russian. You LOOK Russian. I just assumed. I couldn't understand why you didn't SPEAK Russian." Needless to say, I started laughing as well, and 6 years later, we still laugh about that story. 

This story reminds me of the times that I get stuck. Sometimes I assume something to be true, or I get so caught up in a lie, that it affects my own grasp of what is real and true and based in reality. Whether it's a lie about myself that I've been told or that I have come up with on my own, or a misguided opinion about someone else that affects the way I think about them or treat them, or something that I just tell myself is true without checking the facts to be true (like ice cream is good for me because it contains calcium)... These are not truths, but when we take them as true, they affect our thoughts and behaviours.

I had a couple of teachers in high school who helped me deal with some issues I was having outside of school.  And both of them stood up to the lies I was facing in my life. One teacher told me, "That isn't right. That's not ok." What I'd gotten used to as normal actually wasn't normal. He helped me take another look at my skewed view of an aspect of my life, and see it for what it really was, the reality of the situation. The other teacher kept telling me, "You gotta call a spade a spade." She was very clear about not twisting the truth of the matter. Just grab it, the truth or the reality or the facts, and call it like I see it. Both of these people were amazingly helpful as I was navigating this particular aspect of my life. 

Now, when I get caught up in negative self-talk, or a particularly tempting lie about myself or someone else, or a lie or bit of ignorance about God, it's helpful to remember the experience with my friend. I recall the certainty she seemed to feel about my Russian heritage, without even knowing the facts. I also clearly remember her disdain, condescension even, that my parents had let the Russian language slip through my language study and acquisition. She had created this whole story about me that was not based in truth at all. But once she discovered the truth, the lie seemed so funny, so ridiculous, and she was able to see that it had no foundation. 

I hope that as I continue on my journey to discover the truth, about myself, the people around me, but most importantly, about God, that I will strive to believe things that are secure, sitting on a strong foundation. Everything else is just smoke and mirrors, a blatant lie, and at best, a comical misunderstanding. Instead, I want to have a foundation that has no fallacies; one that is strong and steady, and based on the true ideas that I can see reflected all around me. If I fill up with good, with truth, there will be no room for anything else. 

The God Bank - When God doesn't seem to return your calls

Lately I've been feeling like God hasn't been returning my calls. I need help, I reach out to Him, and it seems I am just getting His answering machine again and again. I don't understand what's going on. (Maybe He texts these days and doesn't take personal calls?? Maybe He uses Skype?) It's frustrating, and sometimes I feel like He has abandoned me. I feel like David when he says, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me for ever? How long will you hide your face from me?" (Ps. 13:1). Where is He sometimes??!

It's not like I need Him to answer "Yes" to every question I ask Him. I don't want to be a spoiled kid who gets everything I ask for; mainly because God is smarter than I am and I trust His judgment and His course of action. I know that everything is in His control and that He has knowledge about things that I don't, and couldn't, have. That's okay. The problem I'm having is when He doesn't seem to answer at all. I ask Him questions, and He just doesn't answer, not in the affirmative or in the negative. It's hard to feel like He just doesn't have time to give me an answer. It's hard to feel like he He created me, put me in the world, country, city, family, job, house, situation that I am in, and then just left me to figure things out on my own. If He is indeed my Father, that would make me His daughter, and sometimes children have questions that they need their parents to answer! I feel like saying sometimes, "Don't just leave me hanging here! I know You know the answer! I know You could put my mind at ease in half a second!"

But I obviously don't know all the answers, and thus, I don't know why it sometimes seems like He's distant. He's probably not; I'm guessing it's just my perception or just the fact that I am distancing myself from Him, not the other way around. I just don't know.

During these times of frustration or seeming distance from God, I find it helpful to remember the instances in my life where God felt really present... Times where I could feel Him next to me, in the same room, closer than my breath. And I've saved these moments in a special file in my brain, to recall when I need them the most. This file is my "God Bank." I save up these God-filled moments for a rainy day, for when I really need that extra encouragement, that extra sense of His presence. When I feel lost or sad or hopeless and can't seem to get an answer from God, I go to the God Bank and make a withdrawal. Sometimes I even take out more than I actually have in the bank; but the good thing about the God Bank is that there are no overdraft fees. I am not going to get penalized for taking out a little extra faith or hope that I need to get through the day. Sometimes, on the particularly frustrating days, I feel like my relationship with God can be summed up with the following statement: "Fake it 'til you make it." Sometimes I just don't have the faith that I think I should have, or that I know I would have if things were just a little bit easier. But again, knowing that I don't know everything, I put the trust that I do have in God on the table, and fake the rest of it until it's there in earnest.

I can't count the number of times I've been given a great sum of God money that I then go and deposit at the God Bank. There have been so many days in my life, decades' worth of days, where I have been a millionaire - - heck, a billionaire, a gazillionaire - - with God currency. These were the days when I really felt God was there, protecting me, loving me, hanging out with me like a friend. These have been the great "paydays" of my life.

I have been so blessed... I think about the day my little sister was born. My family. The day I met my Persian friends. The day I started working at Hopelink and the shower of blessings that that connection brought to my life, in terms of people and friendships and experiences. Vinnie. My wonderful, amazing, funny, adorable, life-changing friends. The days when I feel really low, and suddenly get 3 unexpected phone calls from friends, a card in the mail, and a package on my doorstep. THIS IS NOT JUST A COINCIDENCE. This is God. This is God's presence and love and protection in my life. The teachers in my life that have been my mentors, my support system, my friends. My church, and the churches that I visit from time to time. The people in those churches. Nature. Animals. Clouds. Sunsets and sunrises. Ice cream. A friend's laughter. The days I suddenly feel a sense of comfort and peace that can only be explained by God's presence. These are the big paydays, and I am so grateful to be able to tuck these experiences away and be able to access them whenever I want to.

No accidents

Four years ago, I had an amazing experience. It was the only time in my life where I'd ever thought, for an instant, that I was going to die right then. And the intense joy that I felt when I realized I was still alive was pretty magical.

I was driving to Canada to spend a 4-day weekend with my friend for her birthday. I took a couple of days off of work because, in a sense, this birthday seemed important. Her mom had just passed away a few months earlier; this was the first birthday she would be celebrating without her mom there. Thus, we weren't really going to "celebrate," but rather just have some quality time together.

Even though it was August, we were experiencing a downpour. As much as I think Seattle drivers should be used to the rain, it was still backing up traffic and causing some pretty precarious situations on the road.

As I was driving, I suddenly saw brake lights in front of me, a lot closer than was comfortable with. I quickly slammed on my brakes and was quite relieved when I stopped a foot or two behind the car in front of me. Out of habit, I checked my review mirror, only to see a silver Ford F-350 careening towards me, showing no sign of slowing down. My hands grasped the wheel and I braced myself for the impact.

The next thing I heard was a horrible scrunching sound as the truck crashed into the trunk of my car, and I felt myself lurching forward, still in my seat but suddenly out of control. My car, a much smaller Toyota Camry, jolted forward at such an alarming speed that all I could think of was, "This is it. I think I am going to die." 

What happened next was amazing. I still can't explain it, except that it makes me think that God was totally present and guiding my car. All I remember was that I hung on to the steering wheel as my body thrashed around inside the thrown car from the impact. When my car finally stopped moving, I was 3 lanes over, slammed up against the cement barrier of I-5, facing the opposite direction than I had been 10 seconds earlier. I was thankfully over on the shoulder of the freeway, out of on-coming traffic and out of harm's way.

As soon as my car shuddered to a stop, I jumped out. I was a little disoriented, but at that second, I was so, soooo incredibly happy. I was alive! I have no idea what happened, or how my car didn't hit another car as it somehow wove its way through 3 additional lanes of rush-hour traffic, but somehow it didn't and somehow I was alive. A sense of pure joy washed over me as I walked a few steps, paying special attention to the amazing, “being”, living existence of my legs and the feel of the pavement below my feet. My back seemed a bit twisted and out of whack, and there was some tension in my neck, but all in all I felt great. I was on "this side" of life and death.

I stopped my jumping around and looked at the F-350 that had gone through several more vehicles, hitting the car that had been in front of mine, and starting a chain reaction that didn't stop until 4 more cars had been damaged. I looked at all the other cars that were surrounding the mess; all stopped, all just seemingly waiting. I imagined the cars in the other lanes were stopped not because their drivers slammed on the brakes, but out of sympathy for a fellow car. My battered Camry sat dejectedly, beaten, on the side of the highway. I quickly walked to the back of my car and inspected the damage.

And only then did I remember the scrapbook. The beautiful piece of art, the detailed pages, the family pictures that were included... the surprise scrapbook that Ati had started to make for her daughter before she passed away. Before Ati passed, she asked me if I could help her with some of the pages; get some notes from her daughter's friends, collect pictures that could be included, etc. I had tried to do so and had made some progress, and the pages that I had finished, along with all of Ati's pages, were in a big container in my trunk. And when I walked back to the trunk, I saw that these things, these pieces of art from both Ati and the things I had put together, had been destroyed. My trunk had been completely smashed in. Actually, I didn't have a "trunk" to speak of anymore; the end of my car was now the backseat. The trunk had just disappeared. The scrapbook pages were now covered in Seattle rain, and in the pomegranate wine that I was bringing up to Canada. The bottle had been smashed into 1,000 pieces by the impact. My heart dropped.

But then, for a moment, I thought of Ati and how her scrapbook pages were in between the truck and myself. Obviously not a physical barrier, but more of a symbolic one. The scrapbook had been made with love, and I felt so much love in that moment. For Ati, from Ati, for my friend... And I really felt that Ati was with me right then. I was so grateful to be alive, and so grateful for God, and it was again an amazing, wonderful moment.

A few minutes later I called another friend, and when she heard what had happened, she said, with such conviction but also with such tenderness, "You are in God's pocket. You are right there, safe and protected." She quoted some scripture to me, and I felt such a sense of peace and security. We talked for a bit more, and I just kept feeling so grateful that I was alive and well. And I was so grateful for this friend, not only for her love that was embracing me over the phone, but also because she was able to give me a spiritual perspective on what had just happened. I felt so incredibly blessed, and so grateful that NO ONE, not me or the driver of the truck or the occupants of the other cars or anybody in the other lanes of I-5, had been seriously injured. We had all been protected, safe and secure.

When I finally arrived to Vancouver, B.C., that night (my friend and her father came to pick me up), I was again surrounded by such a feeling of love, from my friend and her father and from God. And later, when I sheepishly gave my friend her birthday card that had been splattered with wine and rain, she looked at it and smiled the biggest smile I'd ever seen.

“I love this card,” she said as she took it from me. She hadn’t even opened it yet, but her smile remained. “This card is from you, and every time I look at it, I will be reminded that you are okay. I will keep it forever.”

I slept really well that night, thinking of God's protection, feeling the love from my family and friends, and knowing that this day had been such a gift in so many ways.

My conversation with God

I've been thinking about God a lot lately... We are at a bit of a rough patch in our relationship, and that's okay. Sometimes relationships go through rough patches. But while thinking about God and about His role in my life, I was reminded of an amazing experience I had in January of this year. I felt God's presence in my life in a way that I'd never felt Him before; it was like He was physically... THERE. So present. And recalling this experience, I felt so much love and gratitude for Him. It is an important recollection for me to have, as it shows me that He is there no matter how I feel sometimes.

In late January, I was driving up to Vancouver, B.C., to visit my Persian buddies. I had just sent a weird email to a couple of friends about some things I was going through, and was not too happy about my decision to send it. On top of that, I was feeling bad about some other things, and was berating myself over all these real and perceived mistakes I had made. Vinnie was in the backseat and, being a typical dog and being sensitive to my feelings, could tell that I was really upset. He kept pacing back and forth, whining in my ear, trying to give me a kiss to comfort me, and he just couldn't seem to get settled. What was interesting was that his inability to settle down was what I had been feeling since I returned from my trip to Ethiopia. I kept stumbling, kept trying to get my footing, and just couldn't seem to do so.

Then suddenly, amidst all the negative self-talk, I said, "Stop. You are amazing." But here's the wonderful/surreal/fascinating part: I felt it was God speaking. It came from my mouth but the words were not from me. I had been so distraught up until that moment, and in a second, it was replaced by love, gentleness, and forgiveness. The words kept coming. "All you have to do is be loving and gentle and kind, to yourself and others. And stay with me." I was speaking but again, it felt like God talking, saying to me, "Stay with me, just stay with me." I felt something along the lines of, "What if it were just you and me (God)? No one else, just you and me? Would you be okay with that?" Before, on the drive, I was worried about friendships, family stuff, other people in my life. And during this calm moment, my brain kept wanting to go back to thinking about other people and how I was letting them down, but each time I would try to go back there, I heard, "Stay with me." Just a gentle reminder to think only of God right then. And then I realized that life could be great with just me and God, that He was the most important being, presence, in my life, and every other person was like a "bonus." People in my life were all gifts from God, like extra blessings beyond the blessing that God is. I suddenly felt so independent, so free, of everything. I was still conscious of the issues and challenges that had distressed me, but I felt okay with however things worked out. Every time I worried I would again hear, "Stay with me." I took it as my directive to mentally and spiritually stay close to God. This thought, this directive, continued for another 30 minutes. The words were so loving and gentle, clear, eloquent, not from me! Just a steady stream of everything I needed to hear.

Also during this time, I felt so warm. I'd been cold on the drive up, and even pretty cold since I'd returned from Ethiopia. It was a weird feeling, as I usually NEVER get cold. I just couldn't seem to warm up. But for those 30 minutes until I reached my destination, I felt so physically warm. And, another interesting thing happened: at one point I looked back and saw that Vinnie had settled down and was snoozing. My frantic voice had worried him, but once God started talking, he was fine.

I'd never had an experience like this before. It may have been a once in a lifetime experience, or maybe not. But whatever it was, I am so grateful. And now, when God and I are talking and I'm trying to learn more about Him, and to see where our relationship goes from here, recalling this experience helps me feel so close to Him.

Lift your head up - What Vinnie taught me while he was wearing The Cone of Shame

                Right now, Vinnie and I are in the middle of a dog-sitting assignment. He accompanies me on all my dog-sitting gigs; he has a wonderful time playing with the dogs, checking out all their toys, and exploring their yard.

                Sometime during this current gig, Vinnie came in from the backyard with some blood lining the perimeter of his right eye. After some examining (and a subsequent trip to the vet the next morning), I found out there were 3 different cuts along his eyelid. Not huge cuts, but something that I needed to deal with. We left the vet with some disinfectant and, you guessed it, The Cone of Shame so Vinnie wouldn’t scratch it as he was healing. (For the reference, see one of the greatest, cutest, cleverest movies ever created). 

                I realized that I needed to take some practical steps with his injury. I needed to clean it every day, and make sure he was wearing his cone as much as possible, and reduce the amount of time he roughhoused with the other dogs. (Not only for his protection, but have you ever tried to wrestle someone who is wearing a cone? Ouch.)

                But along with the practical steps, I needed to take some spiritual steps. I needed to pray for the little guy. I needed to show him love and tenderness, as Jesus showed the people that he came into contact with. I needed to see Vinnie as God’s creation, as a beautiful creature who expressed God-like qualities such as affection, love, protectiveness towards me, curiosity, energy, zest for life, tenderness, crazy-puppy-like behavior (okay, that’s not really a God-like quality, but it’s still pretty endearing…). And I needed to realize that Vinnie isn’t my dog; he’s God’s dog. Even when I can’t protect him, I know that God can and will. I needed to remind myself of this, and see that everything is in God’s control.

                One of the messages that became so clear to me came from a simple line that I’ve repeatedly told Vinnie over the past week: “Lift your head up.” As he walks around with this cone, he is continually knocking the bottom of it against stairs, the floor, furniture, and whatever else happens to be lying around that Vinnie feels compelled to climb over. And each time he knocks the cone into something, the edge that is against his neck jabs into him, jolting him out of the intense focus that he seems to have on his desired destination. After a couple of collisions, the poor guy just stops where he is, sits down, and looks at me with a pathetic gaze. I can see the frustration in his face; he just wants to climb up the stairs and join the other 2 dogs on the deck! Is that too much to ask? At these times, I find myself saying, “Vinnie, lift your head up, bud. Lift the cone up.” That’s all it would take, just a slight inclination of his neck to bring the cone up far enough to clear any object he wants to overtake. If he’s having a particularly hard time, I will go over to him and gently lift the cone up myself, grabbing the top rim and tilting it up just enough, while pulling him slightly forward so he gets the idea that it is now safe to move ahead.

            After a couple days of helping him, I can see that Vinnie is making progress. He walks a little more carefully now, with a little more caution and calculation concerning his surroundings. He doesn’t want to get jolted backwards or stopped suddenly, just because he was a little overzealous or a little too eager to get to the food dish. When he moves slowly, he’s definitely not like the usual Crazy Vinnie who tears through the house. He just wants to be sure that his forward path is clear before making any sudden moves. But an amazing thing happens: when he lifts his head up, he knows that he can go quickly again. He can run down the hall, tail wagging, knowing that just by looking up, he will be safe and can move freely. When he tilts his neck upwards, he can practically fly, soar, crash into walls… just like what is typical for Crazy Vinnie. It’s amazing to see Vinnie figure this out, and act like “Vinnie.”

                I feel like I’ve had a similar experience lately. A few months ago, this past winter, I was having a hard time moving forward; emotionally, mentally, even maybe a little physically. I just felt that there were so many issues and so many problems, and each time I would try to overcome them or try to find a solution, I would hit a stumbling block. I got jolted backwards, I fell down, I couldn’t get up again… and if I tried and succeeded in getting up for half a minute, I would just fall down again, much harder than before. But even with all of these falls, each time I tried to stand up, I really just wanted to run. I wanted to reach as high as I could and stretch out my hand as far as it would go… Not just settle for feeling “all right,” but feel totally back on my feet again and totally stable, totally full of the life that I knew was inside me, feel the rainbows-and-balloons sensation of total joy. But I just couldn’t get there.

As I kept falling, again and again, I had so many people in my life who showed me so much love. Some people could see that I was falling, and others had no idea but were loving nonetheless, just because they love continually and unconditionally as part of their nature. And each expression of love that I experienced touched my heart. I didn’t know what was happening with me and I felt like I was in a scary place, but quite frequently there would be an instant, a moment, that was so full of love, and this was such a support to me. It was definitely the silver lining.

                After 6 weeks of this up-and-down rising-and-falling nonsense, I decided that I was going to take it slowly. I decided that I wasn’t going to hit the ground running. It only took Vinnie about 2 days what it took me 6 weeks to learn! (It’s okay… I don’t mind if Vinnie shows me up from time to time.) Like Vinnie, I was just going to take it easy, and make sure there wasn’t anything in my way before I started running. This was my philosophy behind it: When you’re struggling and not at your optimal performance level, why run straight at a hurdle that you’re not sure you can clear? If you’re feeling great, feeling ready, then go for it. But if you’ve fallen down a dozen times recently, start with smaller hurdles. Go slowly, practice, breathe… and then, when you know you’re ready, take on that big hurdle!

So I went slowly, and didn’t try any large hurdles… just the small ones that I was confident I could do. During this time, which was over several months, I discovered that there were still some things I needed to figure out. I wasn’t falling down like before, but I was still bumping into things. I didn’t feel like I was able to move freely, and I didn’t feel like “Katie Brotten.” I just felt like a toned-down, less energetic, less “Katie” version of myself. And then one day, I fell down again pretty hard. It was like before, when I had tried to move too quickly and wasn’t ready… Except this time I had been moving so slowly, and still fell down! I was immediately jolted out of the slow, ambling pace that I had been keeping for a number of months. I thought that by moving slowly, I would be safe, but that was not the case. I didn’t know what happened, or how to help myself out of it. I was scared.

It was time to make a change. Like Vinnie, I needed to lift my head up if I was going to clear the obstacles in my path. I just wouldn’t be able to move forward without doing so. It is one thing to move carefully and cautiously, but if your head is still down, you are going to bump into things no matter how slowly you move. And to really be able to take on life at the speed I wanted to, I was going to need to look up.

At this time, a good friend did something for me, which, while on a much larger scale, had some similarities to what I did for Vinnie. Similar to how I tilted the rim of his cone so that he could maneuver the path and move forward safely, this friend gave me a hand when I most desperately needed it. Like Vinnie, I was struggling with the most basic steps forward. I just wanted to stop there, in the middle of the hallway, and just be done. Not play with the other dogs, not go and get a toy, not go explore the backyard; just be done. In addition to meeting me where I was, where I had fallen, to give me a gentle lift to my feet, she also helped me see the different options that I could take and prompted me to move forward on my own path. And above all, she reminded me where the true source of everything good is; she helped me lift my thought to God. I was reminded that there is so much more when we just look up. We do not have to be stuck in one spot, to forever bump up against obstacles and become immobilized by the “cones” that we wear, whether we choose to wear them or they are placed upon us in one way or another. There is indeed a way to move forward, many ways, and if we try a path and it doesn’t work, we must move on to the next one. And the whole time, we can lift our gaze and our thoughts and our energy upward… This is essential in moving forward.

Vinnie gets his cone off in a couple of days, and he’ll be back to the wild and crazy kid I love; unobstructed and unfettered by anything that would dare to stand in his way. And I’m taking my cone off too; it doesn’t suit me. But, regardless of the tough times spent stumbling and falling, I have such an immense feeling of gratitude. It’s astounding to me how much gratitude I have felt during this time, the toughest time I have ever experienced in my life. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn from these experiences, and to learn more about myself and about God. I am grateful for the love that was so overpowering and so present in those times, the love from God, from friends, from family. And I’m so grateful for every kind word, smile, expression of love, and for every person who reached down and lifted my cone up a bit, helped me to keep my eyes on God as I continue to move forward.