The Joy of the Lord is my Strength

Overbusyness has a way of sucking the life out of life. When you move on high speed not only are you easily frazzled, but with activities all bumper-to-bumper you have less patience when life swings you a curveball. You have no room to move and so anger at any inconvenience is our usual response.  I encounter so many angry people these days. Angry drivers who swerve irradically and honk as they pass, eyebrows furrowed, shouting heated words. Angry customers who impatiently move from line to line in the grocery store as they rush to get through quickly. I wonder where they are rushing to?

Overbusyness also sucks away the meaningfulness of our lives. Running on automatic, we don’t have time to listen to the Holy Spirit directing us to stop and speak to someone, send a caring email, or invite someone for coffee. The meaninglessness shows up in our interior spaces, in feelings of “what’s the point”, emptiness, and ongoing tiredness. I’ve been there. So I speak from experience.

With cell phones clipped on our ears, music flowing from our car speakers, and ipods plugging out the noise of the world , we have become so isolated in our busyness and yet wonder why our souls feel starved. Disconnection is the epidemic of the upcoming generation.  I cannot absorb the joy of my surroundings, or connect with the people right in front of me, when I walk through the grocery store having a pointless conversation with someone who isn’t with me in person but who is speaking into my ear.

The other day, and this has happened to me before, I was picking out shampoo in Save-On-Foods when a lady came into the same aisle by herself and yet began talking out loud while selecting a birthday card for someone. She read the captions aloud, and asked for advice from her friend who I slowly realized she was speaking with on the phone that was hidden under her hair. It was weird to watch her drift toward the cashier still in conversation yet totally oblivious to the people who were right there in the store with her. I’ve had similar experiences when I’m out walking in the evening, enjoying the woods, appreciating the sounds of birds calling and the creek trickling by. All the things that remind me to slow down, to enjoy, to relax. I saw someone approaching and I prepared to say  “hello” the way I usually do to fellow-walkers when I realize that he isn’t even aware of my presence – with eyes lowered toward the ground completely unaware of the peace of his surroundings, he was having a loud conversation with someone on his cell phone.  He didn’t look happy.

Our lives can be ever so full, never a moment to be still and listen or to reflect on the happenings of our day. Never a moment to intentionally connect with the earth from which we draw our sustenance, rarely making a meaningful face-to-face connection with another human being. It’s amazing how important that connection makes you feel.

As I walked last night through Clayburn Village I heard the sound of water rushing from a hose and looked up to note an older lady watering her garden. She happened to notice me at the same time and just lifted her hand, and smiled and waved at me. I felt something shift in my heart, and realized the importance and joy of being seen.  I’m here. I’m visible. I’m worth acknowledging. That little wave gave renewed vigor to my steps and carried me well along my way home.

The mid-weeks of June have flown by in a flurry of activity.  Easing back into the pace of life has felt like moving onto an entrance ramp on the highway. I’ve had to pick up speed in order to get with the flow again. And, the speed feels really unnatural after weeks of sustained rest.

I’ve been working hard trying to find projects that will raise funds for our mission trip into China. Although still in the initial phases with lots of time to go, I have been grabbing opportunities to connect with the public on this. So far we’ve run a “prayer bracelet” campaign with the Youth in the church, had a gently-used book sale with my childrens’ support school, and this past weekend had a very successful garage sale that ran over two days. The work involved in all these endeavors is far greater behind the scenes than I anticipated. Lots of organizing and conversations with all the individuals involved, packing and unpacking, setting up tables, carrying heavy boxes and then full days of standing around in strange places like driveways and back rooms.

All this busyness in the midst of the older kids scrambling to complete on-line courses and prepare for provincials!  And, I’ve been trying to slowly get my house back in order after months of illness. Although the family did a great job of keeping the place clean, there are lots of nooks and crannies where dust and dirt gathered unnoticed. Junk has gathered around the house, and I can’t wait to grab huge garbage bags and dispose of it all. I’m sure over the next weeks I’ll also make a few runs to drop off bits and pieces at the thrift store.

We have one more provincial exam tomorrow and then the 2009-2010 school year is officially over. Well…not exactly…as two of my girls will be running Social Studies courses into the summer. Darn! Not what I had in mind when I envisioned summer diversions and unhindered freedom to be out enjoying the good weather. But then…what good weather? We haven’t had much of that here on the great West, or should I say, Wet Coast.

This summer we have no formal plans for getting away as a family. This happened because the kids have so many plans of their own that keep mom and dad tied to home. The two older girls want to find jobs, our oldest needs to get her driver’s license, and she is also subjecting herself to a full mouth of braces as of the third week in July. They also have a week booked to walk the Juan de Fuca trail with a group of friends from High School with supervision from a couple of the dads. All in all, the July and August calendar is slowly filling up with all their plans. I wonder if I’ll get to do anything exciting? Or, even get away for a day or two from the responsibilities of home?

After six weeks of illness and being almost entirely confined to home, I am moving on. Today I’ll venture out behind the wheel for the first time in a long time. I hope that I’ve learned all that I could from this past season, if only having gained the knowledge that rest is possible even in a busy household.

We have two days until the supervising teacher comes for her year-end visit.  I am overwhelmed by how quickly this school year flown by. Summer break quickly approaches but break isn’t quite the right word for the upcoming months. The calendar is already brimming with the kids’ plans for summer and my plans are interwoven with many of theirs.

With the kids all progressing toward or into the high school grades I sense a need within myself to begin preparing for new paths. Although my youngest still has a few years to go, I’m not challenged enough with the homeschooling anymore.  Going through the curriculum with my son is just another journey over what is now very familiar ground.

I don’t have any great ideas about what to move on to. I used to envision going back to school and getting a master’s degree, but now I’m not so sure. Either way, I’d like to have a few dreams on the back-burner  instead of just a yawning abyss of emptiness.

I was really scared the morning I awoke with labyrinthitis. I didn’t know what was wrong with me but I felt awful. The doctor’s diagnosis consoled me a little bit, but the length of time she predicted for recovery came with a whole pile of other concerns.  But, I also shrugged off the time-frame she gave and arrogantly thought that I’d recover more quickly than other people. Well, so far the doctor and all the other people are right. Here I am at the three week mark of this illness, and I’m only beginning to see some signs of recovery: the spells of spinning are less frequent, and I’m not feeling so draggy.

Along the way I’ve had hours and hours of time to sit and listen to my own heart and to the voice of the Heavenly Father. I’m learning a lot about myself and am journalling these discoveries so they will have lasting impact. But, the most encouraging part of the journey has been the ‘wells of refreshing’ that God has placed along the way. I use the phrase ‘wells of refreshing’ because this piece of wisdom was given to me by a friend last summer before I knew I was going to enter an emotionally and physically tough season.

My wells of refreshing lately have been the people who have encouraged me in the past three weeks. People who have phoned, or sent a card, made a meal or two, or just come over to sit with me for a hour.  My family has also been outstanding as they have keep life running smoothly.  My husband is now full-time taxi driver and has gotten the kids to their classes and activities. The kids are progressing through their schoolwork, the house is reasonably clean and the pantry stocked. Amazing. The garden is getting a little overrun with weeds, but some things inevitably have to show signs that all isn’t as usual.

I love the concept behind ‘wells of refreshing’ – something that fills you. Looking for the wells of refreshing keeps one positive and anticipating. They keep the focus on the goods moments and they help one move forward with hope. The idea also assumes that there will be moments when we will feel encouraged if we only look hard enough.

I pray that as you journey the current circumstances of your life that you’re able to find wells of refreshing along the way.  Not all has to depend on the goodwill of others, though. I’ve also learned that sometimes I have to intentionally place good things in my own life; small, inexpensive gifts to myself that are life-bringing and soul-feeding.  A walk in early evening just as the sun is setting. A cup of coffee on the back porch under the stars. A new book that I just can’t wait to open. Sushi with a good friend who knows my story inside and out and has shared her journey as deeply with me. Sitting by the ocean and listening to the rhythm of the waves and the sound of seagulls calling. Soaking in a steaming scented bath. Music by candlelight.  Savory bites with a great bottle of wine. All done leisurely, fully present in the moment, with gratitude.

Well, what do you think? A new look for my blog…and not one that I had planned! My hosts here at Homeschoolblogger changed servers and the result is hours of lost work, the disappearance of all the special tweaks to my pages, and clipart that vanished. So be it. Letting go seems to be the theme of my 2010 year.  Surrendering to the circumstances of life that can’t be changed. Accepting that life is generally about changes and about being able to move with the currents of ebb and flow.

I’m still learning to navigate this season of on-going illness – sinking into the resting part of this season more often than wrestling with the inconvenience and disruption to the usual patterns of our days. I’ve been housebound for almost twenty days now, haven’t driven in all that time, and wake each morning with the hopes that the labyrinthitis will have run its course. Still, I am powerless to speed up the process, nor can I do anything to alter my ability to step back into the race.

I think this process will change me. I’m trying to listen to the lessons that are being sown in my heart. I listen also to the roots of my emotions and look at where those false beliefs started. Like you, I am a work in progress.