Transience

whew

The last of the family was dropped off at the airport this morning. It was wonderful to see them, but I am really looking forward to having the house to myself (and the cats) for the first time in a week and a half. My niece is teething, so she slept very poorly, which meant the rest of us did, as well.

My dad & brother spent about 6 hours hanging new lights in the kitchen (the old ones were hung very strangely & had freaky wiring, so it took a while), installed a new ceiling fan/light in the front bedroom, rewired a basement outlet, and ran a phone jack into my living room so that people will no longer trip on the phone cord as it stretches across the entryway and over to the futon. Yay!

We also had the unpleasant discussion about what to do with my parents' bodies when they die, which one of us wants to be executor of their will (my brother does, thank goodness), and how to convince them to let us sort through all the stuff in storage & dispose of much of it now, rather than waiting until they return to the US or die. All-in-all, it went better than it could have.

I'm looking forward to another long weekend, as I don't feel like I've had any vacation at all.

holiday cheer & scary gifts

I was amused by these photos of children who are scared by Santa. I suppose Santa could be kind of creepy. How many times a year did your parents encourage you to sit on the lap of a stranger wearing wierd clothes and a fake beard? If it were August, they'd be clutching little Baby Sally's hand and looking around for the "America's Most Wanted" poster.

Other things I find scary: sock monkeys (I had one my mom made & had to give it away because I couldn't even open the closet where it was stored), the wierd ceramic head/candle holder from Mexico that grandma gave me, nutcrackers (especially the 3-headed mouse in the 2nd photo), and cabbage patch dolls (I think they want to eat me).

before & after

I'd like to thank Steve, Erik, Sarah, Trip, Andy, Katie, Jesus, my third-grade teacher Mrs. Krabapple, sunshine, & the Letter K for inspiring & helping me on this journey. Waves the Oscar in the air. I love you guys!

finding God in the muddle

After every peak comes the downward slope. I just hope the plateau is higher than where I started.

This weekend a friend came to visit. I've known Joy for... oh, 9 or 10 years. Maybe 11. Holy crap; I didn't realize it was that long. Anyway, I haven't seen her in a year. She came up Thursday night to help me do some cleaning and get ready for my family's visit. It was good to catch up with her, but also hard, as it made me realize just how much I've changed since we met. I had to struggle so hard to be gracious when she put on KTIS while we painted the kitchen. I bit my tongue while she raved about how much she loves Billy Graham specials & The Purpose-Driven Life. What could I say? Perhaps the hardest part was when she was telling me about this man "with an awesome testimony!!!" His story? His family van was caught in a flash flood & his wife and three children died. But he's not angry at God at all. Isn't that awesome!!!

Ugh.

I really didn't know how to respond. I mean, she's lost children. I know she's been very angry at God. And yet she thinks that the most God-honoring reaction to tragedy & pain is to gloss over all the normal human emotions that flow from it. Sorry, but I don't praise God because of what happened to Jenell's babies. I don't praise God that I (and so many wonderful friends) are still single against our wishes. I don't praise God that my grandpa went in for a routine checkup and the doctor dislodged a blood clot which caused a stroke and killed him. I don't praise God for these things because it seems wrong, like commending a father for slapping his kid around because he forgot to put the knife on the wrong side of the spoon when setting the table.

Away from the computer for 3 days this weekend, I soothed my spirit with the simple absorption of physical tasks: taping the woodwork before painting, cutting tiles and planning the best way to fit them together (like Tetris for my floor), spending hours and hours working out the kinks in my first plumbing project. Despite the frustration which led me to smack a hole in the bathroom wall with my hammer and the cramp in my calves from crouching by the pipes, I felt peace while doing these things. Peace in kneeling on my basement floor, feeding tile into the whirring blade. Peace in slowly cutting through copper pipe. Peace in that momentary jolt I feel every time I walk into my newly-tangerine kitchen. Peace in the clean & organized fridge that was Joy's gift to me. Peace in knitting during the sermon last night. Peace in eating dinner with women I love.

Right now I do not find God in the radio or books. I find him in my body and my home. I find him in my depression and joy and anger and confusion and hope. I find him in the muddle of my life.