Thinking about bacon

I haven't been writing much this summer. I want to. I think about it, but it's hard because so many of my thoughts are consumed, or at the very least threaded through with this constant thrumming note of fear. I make doctors appointments and hunt down lost medical records; I schedule and reschedule, practice relaxation techniques and try to pretend my laugh isn't shaky, and that I am always this sweaty.  I've quietly stowed away far reaching plans and expectations in favor of lists that focus on the immediate needs for that day and that day only, each item like a small anchor that binds me to the here and now so that I don't lose myself entirely. Sorrow and fear aren't complementary garments, and I do not wear them gracefully. I certainly have no talent at hiding them.  I'd like to tattoo, "Be kind; my heart is breaking" on the space between my eyes so I don't have to work so hard at pretending.

You can see why I don't feel overly compelled to write.

I won't lie and say it's all hard all the time. It most certainly is not. There are moments of exquisite sweetness and beauty, moments where mere breathing seems like worship.  Those moments are the bridges between myself and understanding anything at all about the events that are unfolding this summer.  While my brother fights his own battle and those of us who anxiously orbit around him get scanned, poked, prodded and generally worked over, one of my dear friends learned of her ex-husband's illness: stage 4 colon cancer. Call me selfish, but I'd like to not be needed to share my cancer experience with people I love the most. It's a desperate and humble level of intimacy to share a nightmare.  Christ's ministry of suffering isn't a call to alleviate pain, it's a call to enter into familiarity of heartache.

All of this backstory is necessary to explain what is coming next. My friend, whose children just learned of their father's cancer, was speaking with her six year old when she said this:

"My mind keeps thinking about Daddy; I keep trying to think about bacon."

In two sentences she managed to say what I have been unable to say for weeks.  The hard truth about some seasons is that you can try to think about all the pleasant, comforting, wonderful, tasty things that this life contains, but the mind has a will of its own, and it will return to the things you want to turn off for just five minutes every time.  Your body may be doing the normal every day things. It goes to the normal every day places.  Your mouth may engage in the same every day conversation, but your mind keeps circling back around to that sore spot that makes no sense. It isn't wallowing or a pity party. It isn't a matter of choosing to focus on the negative.  It's simply that in the end, we really don't have any control, not over who becomes sick or stays well, not over protecting the people we love, and certainly not over our minds lingering on those we hold dear who have suddenly become more precious and more fragile than we ever realized.

Maybe I just needed to say that.  There isn't anything wrong with thinking about bacon, or writing about things that have nothing whatsoever to do with where my mind currently circles.  Maybe I just needed you to know that I might be writing about bacon in the days to come (or perhaps more mundane vegetarian subjects as well) but it will only be a diversion, a momentary dalliance in normal daily life and routine. I am trying to think about bacon, but my mind...well...it's just not ready to fully cooperate yet.

Broken

I got a little scolding yesterday about my lack of writing.  Sometimes I feel like I am just bursting out with things to say, burgeoning with thoughts ideas, goals, hopes, thinkerly things, but I can't quite seem to assemble it all into coherent material.  It's frustrating.

I've used the phrase broken about myself many times these last few weeks. I am not a fan of anything medical, despite my long and very exciting medical history.  But this summer I get to run the gamut of tests, probes, scans, pokes and invasions. Not because there actually is anything wrong me, simply because there might be. Once you have a history of being broken in a new way, doctors take notice. They want to really look into what's wrong with you so that they can, maybe, prevent someone else being broken in the same way you were. As for me, I'd much rather be left alone to make my own way and take care of my own self. While every doctor reassures me that there is no reason to think anything is wrong and that everything is merely "preventive medicine," beneath all their smiles (and the somewhat disconcerting gleam of interest at handling someone medically unique) beneath all of that is the never ending hum of tension that all this scrutiny brings.  It makes me tense and out of sorts. It makes me feel afraid and very out of control.

But I ball all that anxiety up and shove it off to a little corner in the pit of my stomach and pretend like that time I really did have cancer that everyone acted very concerned and as though I had everything to worry about, not that they were acting just like they are acting now, and that in fact, I was found to be very, very broken.  Unfortunately that ball of junk hums like a radioactive bomb. Sometimes it's louder and sometimes it's quieter, but it is always there: reminding me of dates written on my calendar, reminding me of all the reasons why they'll probably find something wrong, reminding me that its all been borrowed time up to now anyway.

And isn't that the rub? This morning I sang the lyrics, "My whole life is yours. I give it all forever to your praise. Forever I will say: have your way. Have your way." But are they just empty words? Because it could be that this is where my train might jump the track.  My brother is sick, and I can't fix it.  I might be broken, and I can't fix it.  This whole world is filled with crippling illness, hurt and disease, and I can't fix even the smallest part of it. Not only that but every day between sunrise and sunset there are a million things that could, maybe even should go wrong. Here I am eaten up with anxiety that we might find the monster in the closet, when the real truth is that my life can change irrevocably, tragically in one moment and I might never even see it coming.

Do I mean it when I sing it? Do I want His way or my way? If you want the honest answer it's, "Yes, when it feels good, and absolutely no when the fear buzzes and gnaws and the unknown looms inscrutably deep at my feet." What I've learned about brokenness is that it usually happens unexpectedly fast that there is no preparation for it. When healing does happen, there are still fault lines, you see. Sometimes they tremor in reminder, and sometime they crack open again and release all those  things you thought were mended, and behind you. Those fault lines will make you stumble, and that is why surrender isn't a moment, but a process and healing isn't a promise, but a gift slowly revealed and grace, oh grace, it's limitless for all the time you need to stand on firm, unbroken ground again.

Introductions

This weekend I read Exodus (I'm reading the Bible in 90 days this summer with a group of amazing people - there's still time to join us and not be a bit behind!).  I love the story of The LORD and Moses.  Before ritual sacrifice, before the cross, before atonement, before all the things we expect must take place before we are permitted to approach God, the LORD spoke to Moses face to face, as with a friend.  It's basically one of the most amazing relationship concepts I have ever encountered: A Holy All-Powerful God claiming the BFF position of an exiled, sheep-herding, stuttering murderer.  But before Moses got all glow-y and before he carried the law of God on his shoulders (literally and figuratively), before all of that, there were the introductions. Moses really had no need to introduce himself to his Creator, so his part was skipped over entirely. And how does the Almighty, Creator of time, the universe and all that both of those things in all their vastness contain, the Beginning and the End, the Everlasting, Holy, Omniscient, Jehovah introduce Himself?

I Am.

Two of the smallest words in the human language; two of the most incomprehensible concepts the mind can entertain.

You need it? I Am.

You want it? I Am.

You don't know you need it yet?  I Am that too.

You can't understand it and couldn't put words to it if you wanted to? I Am.

I Am all the things for all the people in all of time; I am the center of the universe, the wellspring of life, the author of salvation, the source of everything good and, yes, evil.  

I Am the Healer, the Breaker, the Bringer of blessings and curses, the Creator, the Destroyer. 

I Am life and death and every single breath in between the two.

I am here and there and all places, filling time up like water fills a sphere, filling the earth up like a King fills His coffers, filling you up like a Spirit fills the empty spaces.

I AM

How Moses even survives the introduction without burning to cinder is beyond me ( in fact, his survival was pretty precarious through a good portion of this initial blind date) because implied in this new revelation of God, the great I Am, is the unspoken sentiment that Moses is very, very not.

Which is true, because he isn't.  From Pharaoh-in-Waiting to a dirty desert nomad doesn't even begin to span the distance that stands now between him and I Am.

The same distance, maybe a little less, than stands between me and the very same God.

He Is and I?  I am most certainly not. Anything really. Despite my seeming opulence when compared with Moses' lifestyle, despite society having come so far, and most of us being so very churched, and our clean kitchens and our safe children's activities....despite all of that.  We may as well just be dirty, wandering murderers in a dry and barren land.

For so we are.

Here's where it gets good though.  Moses and I, we're humans cut from the same cloth: bumbling, stuttering, impatient, murdering, disobedient excuse-makers who just so happened to be chosen, not because of anything at all that we brought to the table, but chosen none-the-less to shine.

God met Moses at the burning bush and told Him who He Is with two simple words.  The next few chapters of conversation will be used to tell Moses who he is and what he was created to do with no little protest from Moses.

Two words made very, completely clear that God was more than able to handle this situation entirely on his own, but the next four books of the Bible will tell the story of how He enlisted the person of Moses to make it happen, and in the midst of this, developed one of the greatest friendships in recorded history: a man and His God. A man who let I AM have the final say in who he was.

I better take my shoes off.  I think I feel an introduction coming on...

7 Quick Takes Friday Vol. 2: Ed. 15

1. I literally cannot believe that it's June.  It's June which means camp is right around the bend and right after camp we start doing some school again (this is so we can take more frequent breaks during the traditional school year).  It's June which will be the half way mark for the year, and barely feel like I have even started anything at all.  It's June and time is just spinning away so fast I feel like I am missing big chunks of it doing I don't even know what.  It's June.  I'm freaked out about it a little bit.

2. Today being June 1st kind of snuck up on me. I'd set a little mental goal for myself to write every day in June because I am badly out of the habit, and I do enjoy it when I do it.  I found myself rushing to the computer after dinner and some relaxing realizing that I was about to wimp out on the very first day of my goal.  But never fear, here I am with no plan for what I am going to share whatsoever, but writing all the same.

3. I brought a van full of herbs home from my Mom's last week. This week I picked up a few more, and yesterday and today everything got all potted and planted. They look simply lovely and they taste just divine in my food.  All in all it's an endeavor that is making me very happy. I'm also planning some tomatoes (I know it's late in the year for this but when have I ever been on schedule?), and really am considering trying my hand at growing all my own lettuce in the front window area which comes complete with full greenhouse style sun windows and a large garden box area. It almost seems silly not to try it.  The farmer's market has ruined me for all other lettuce.

4. Yesterday we had the most exquisite lightning storm over the lake that I have ever seen.  It rolled through the clouds and then bolted down to the ground. It forked and sizzled and snapped.  It burned reverse images into my retinas and then flickered like a strobe. It was amazing.  I never ever get sick of watching the weather and living here on the lake we can see it rolling in for miles.  I love it.

5. Having decided that I am tired of running through the same small handful of recipes recently, I have been looking for new, healthy, things to try. I ran across a recipe for pizza on the grill today which I plan to try sometime this week.  It looks delicious!  I kind of lost my steam in enjoying cooking lately. I'm trying to get that back.  Somehow we seem to have drifted into the habit of me making 2 or 3 main meals a night to meet everyone's taste. I'm pretty tired of that.  If you see starving, weeping kids wandering down your street it might be mine. I'm also making them drink WATER at lunch. Oh the humanity!

6. Another one of my summer goals is to run 100 total miles. After taking several months off thanks to strangely gimp ankle (which still likes to swell up randomly all the time but no longer causes me pain), I've been easing back into running with a relaxed C25K plan.  I haven't run all the weeks all three times, in fact until this week I only ran one or maybe two circuits of each week before moving on.  But tomorrow I am scheduled to run 25 total minutes again which will be the longest/ farthest I have run since December.  It's supposed to be nice and cool in the morning, and I am really looking forward to enjoying my time.  It won't be long before I have to invest in some new shoes again. These are about sprung despite my lengthy time off.

7. I've had a bit of book ambivalence again this week.  I can't seem to settle on one thing.  Ironically a friend and I are reading a book together which I literally cannot put down.  Of course it's the one thing I shouldn't speed through; I'll definitely be rereading it a slower pace as we work through it together.  But other than that I can't seem to stick to one thing or idea.  I'm planning to narrow down my choices and start being a bit more focused this week.  I've got five and half uninterrupted me days coming up in just about a week that I am super excited about. I want to enjoy them and also utilize them as best I can.