I just got an email from a dear friend who has become disillusioned with her life. She was lamenting that she would never be a movie star, Stevie Nicks or live in a mansion with servants waiting on her. She's feeling old and past the point of life where you can still enjoy yourself. She's five hours older than me.
I think so many people are in that phase; just going through the motions, watching life pass them by. How sad!!! As Andy said in The Shawshank Redemption, "You gotta get busy living, or get busy dying...." So I wrote back to my friend and here is an excerpt from that letter:
As for wanting to be a movie star or Stevie Nicks or waited on hand and foot in a big mansion—here's what I think. Movie stars are never happy, never satisfied, never have privacy, and I don't think they really have ultimate trust with their mates because they're so good at acting. Who needs that? Stevie Nicks? Old before her time, worn out and haggard looking. You don't need that either. The rich life? Hmmm Let's spend all our time wondering if ANYBODY loves us for who we are or if they all just want to leach off of us and use us.... It ain't worth it. Look at your own grass, honey. I think it's pretty green...
So I have to tell you this little story. Let me preface it by saying that I know most of the world, U.S. especially, no longer believes that God can and does miracles today; they think He's distant and aloof and hands-off when it comes to relating to us. I'm not one of that majority, cause I totally think He does do miracles, and He is involved in the smallest details of my life. So anyway, day before yesterday I had to go to the Post Office to pay my electric bill, which was about 540 Shekels (about $110 US). I can't write checks over here, so I withdraw about 2500 shekels from the ATM and that lasts me a pretty good while, but I was getting a little low on the cash side. Right before I left, I took out my money, which I carry in a little bitty zippered pouch in my purse, and counted it -- seven 100 shekel notes, a twenty and some change. I went and paid my bill, which left me about 170 or so. Then I decided to venture down the street and explore a bit since I hadn't been that way before.
I found this little kitchen shop that had some really fun stuff in it and I found some mugs I liked. I thought this would be a good purchase since I only have one. There was also a little mug stand that I was contemplating, but it was a bit expensive and all of it together would leave me with very little cash. So I only got the mugs. Then I stopped by this little cafe and got a falafel for dinner and headed back home. At the crosswalk just in front of my building, an old beggar woman was sitting on the side walk. She seemed a bit different than most beggars around here; she was holding out her hand instead of a cup and there was a gentleness to her. I counted out a little over twenty shekels for her and went and put them in her hand, and kinda touched her hand and looked her in the eye and smiled at her. (you don't usually do those two things with most beggars here).
The light changed and I went on home. The next day I was getting ready to go to the souk (open market) for some food and I got out my purse to see how much money I had. After the mugs and falafel, I should have had about 100 shekels. Instead I had 300 shekels. I'm no math genius, but somehow I had two hundred extra shekels that were not there the day before. I guess most people would explain it away; say that I had just overlooked the money or miscounted or something. But I don't think so. I've had that happen before, where I have given something to someone, expecting nothing in return and God has given me back ten times as much.
Other "interesting" things have happened since I've been here. One night I woke myself up coughing in the middle of the night and my head was all stuffed up. I actually heard a voice say, "Use the white pillow, m'lis" (I have two green ones and one white, which I generally snuggle with). I didn't stop to think about it, I just moved the green pillow, put the white one in it's place and the second my head hit the pillow, the pressure in my head broke and I was fine. I just went right back to sleep without thinking a thing about it, but the next morning when I woke up, it all came rushing back to me. I thought, "did that really happen?" and I was laying there on my white pillow...
I'm not sure why I told you those two stories, except that maybe I think that life IS how we CHOOSE to see it. I could choose to write those things off, chalk them up to coincidence or just bizarre moments; but I don't. I know that God did them. And when you have an outlook on life that chooses to see the good or the potential, life is no longer boring. Does that make sense?
There are so many things in my life that, if I chose to, I could get majorly bummed about: I'm pushing forty and no potential serious relationship in sight. My parents are gone, Marty's not speaking to me again, so basically Mark is the only family I have left; I live in a city where I can't speak the language, can't find clothes big enough to fit me; my closest new friend can never have dinner with me at my house because she keeps kosher; I have no car, no guaranteed income/regular paycheck, no dryer for my clothes; I have to walk everywhere and carry all my groceries about a mile or so; I have no microwave; I don't understand how to work my oven; I can't read the labels when I go shopping.... the list could probably go on and on.
But the thing is that there's blessing in all that, if I choose to see it. I'm not in a horrible, bad relationship like so many people I know; I am strong and able to take care of myself. Mom and Dad are gone, but Daddy's passing brought my Aunt and Uncle back into my life and they have been so supportive since I've been here. I miss Marty, but I love the relationship I have with Mark; I talk to him every week. I may not be able to speak the language here yet, but I'm learning, and every time I can understand how much the vendors at the souk are asking for, that's another victory for me. I don't really need to buy new clothes anyway, I would probably just be throwing my money away. Even though Racheli can't eat here, she has gone out of her way so many times to plan fun stuff for me and has had me in her home with her family and her parents love me. I don't have to make car payments or pay for insurance or gas, and I'm healthy enough to walk wherever I need to go. I don't have a guaranteed salary, but I'll make a big sum on freelance this month and I can work in my pajamas anytime I want. My clothes are staying so nice and not getting worn out from a dryer. I don't really need a microwave; I can always reheat stuff on the stove. I'm learning to cook again, more from scratch and it's forcing me to be creative; the result is not boring!
(end excerpt)
So I thought I would just share those thoughts here in case there's some out there who can identify with my friend. If you are one of those finding yourself in that disillusioned state of mind, it's time to move to another state. There's blessing in the midst of the hard times if we just open our eyes to it all.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Thursday, January 19, 2006
new kid in town
Yesterday was a very interesting day. In the morning I dreamed that a cat had jumped up on my bed and snuggled against my legs. It was so real that in my dream I got up to see how he had gotten into my apartment, and I found a window open in the living room. My friend, Jennifer, walked in about that time and told me that she had left the window open. Jennifer loves cats. The dream then morphed into a bizarre scene that I won't go into at this time.
Later on that day, I was walking through the park next to my apartment and this really cute little kitten came running up to me. This is strange because 1) the stray cats around here run away from people, 2) they're usually pretty mangy and scraggly looking and 3) he had on a collar. I started trying to find the owner, but there was no one in the park except three business men walking along. The cat wouldn't leave my legs and ended up following me home. I fed him of course, and thought maybe he could hang around a bit.
I started to do some work at my computer and he jumped up on the desk, which I can't stand, so I decided to put him out. I started feeling a bit guilty and then I prayed that if God wanted me to help this little guy out, that he would show up at my office window. A few minutes later he showed up at the window. So I let him back in.
That evening I left him in the apartment and went to watch the boys for a little while. When I got back he was curled up in the little bed I had made for him. I went back to my desk to work a little more and he jumped up again and laid down between me and the computer. That would have been fine except for the fact that he kept getting in my face and going for my hands to get me to pet him. I couldn't take it. He went out again.
This morning I opened the shutters on the living room window and a few minutes later, there he was. I let him in and he curled up next to me as I had my quiet time on the couch. It wasn't long before he was in my lap and I finally gave in. He's so sweet and I can tell he just feels a little scared and lost—kinda like I do most of the time. I held him snuggled up to my chest for quite a while and he just calmed right down and dozed off. I just kept thinking that when I'm scared and lonely, that's the place I need to be—snuggled up to the heart of God.
He's been with me most of the day, except for a few short stints outside (I pray he answers nature's call out there until I can find a litter box!). I left him again for a while tonight and came back to him snuggled on the couch. We've kinda worked out the desk issue—he can stay there as long as he just sleeps and doesn't interfere with work. After all, it looks like I'll be needing to buy some cat food....
I've decided that he'll definitely speak English, because the Hebrew word for cat is a little hard for me to pronounce. But I'd like to give him a Hebrew name and I'm considering "Tovi" which means "good." I'm hoping that it will be prophetic and that he will be a good kitty as long as we're hanging out together.
Later on that day, I was walking through the park next to my apartment and this really cute little kitten came running up to me. This is strange because 1) the stray cats around here run away from people, 2) they're usually pretty mangy and scraggly looking and 3) he had on a collar. I started trying to find the owner, but there was no one in the park except three business men walking along. The cat wouldn't leave my legs and ended up following me home. I fed him of course, and thought maybe he could hang around a bit.
I started to do some work at my computer and he jumped up on the desk, which I can't stand, so I decided to put him out. I started feeling a bit guilty and then I prayed that if God wanted me to help this little guy out, that he would show up at my office window. A few minutes later he showed up at the window. So I let him back in.
That evening I left him in the apartment and went to watch the boys for a little while. When I got back he was curled up in the little bed I had made for him. I went back to my desk to work a little more and he jumped up again and laid down between me and the computer. That would have been fine except for the fact that he kept getting in my face and going for my hands to get me to pet him. I couldn't take it. He went out again.
This morning I opened the shutters on the living room window and a few minutes later, there he was. I let him in and he curled up next to me as I had my quiet time on the couch. It wasn't long before he was in my lap and I finally gave in. He's so sweet and I can tell he just feels a little scared and lost—kinda like I do most of the time. I held him snuggled up to my chest for quite a while and he just calmed right down and dozed off. I just kept thinking that when I'm scared and lonely, that's the place I need to be—snuggled up to the heart of God.
He's been with me most of the day, except for a few short stints outside (I pray he answers nature's call out there until I can find a litter box!). I left him again for a while tonight and came back to him snuggled on the couch. We've kinda worked out the desk issue—he can stay there as long as he just sleeps and doesn't interfere with work. After all, it looks like I'll be needing to buy some cat food....
I've decided that he'll definitely speak English, because the Hebrew word for cat is a little hard for me to pronounce. But I'd like to give him a Hebrew name and I'm considering "Tovi" which means "good." I'm hoping that it will be prophetic and that he will be a good kitty as long as we're hanging out together.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
waking the dead
I've been struggling with insomnia—not being able to go to sleep until 2:00 or often 3:00 in the morning. Then of course, I can't get up until 9:30 or 10:00. And I never feel rested when I finally do get up. This is a new problem in my life and it's really been getting to me. I feel like most of the day is gone by the time I get up.
Last night, I finally had a bit of a breakthrough. I was walking past a bookshelf and my hand, of it's own accord, reached out and grabbed my "Waking the Dead" workbook. "Waking the Dead" is a book by John Eldredge that I read probably a year and a half ago. It really hit home then, but I never got around to doing the workbook. I started at 11:00 last night and cried bitterly through the first part of it, but by the end of the first section, something had snapped back into place. I had forgotten how big of a battle we're in, how Satan wants to rob us of all our joy, make us doubt God, and make us miserable in general. So I did a little spiritual warfare and I slept so peacefully. Then I managed to get up much earlier this morning, have a quiet time with the Lord, go for a walk, have breakfast and do laundry all before 9:30. It made me feel so much more human and responsible somehow.
I know I'm a "plugger"; I push my favorite things on people all the time. But that book is really, really good if you're feeling down, like you're living a mediocre existence, hopeless, out of touch, and are beating yourself up for feeling that way. If you're in that place, give it a try. It's well worth it. That's it. No long discourse or major revelation. Just a little recommendation.
Last night, I finally had a bit of a breakthrough. I was walking past a bookshelf and my hand, of it's own accord, reached out and grabbed my "Waking the Dead" workbook. "Waking the Dead" is a book by John Eldredge that I read probably a year and a half ago. It really hit home then, but I never got around to doing the workbook. I started at 11:00 last night and cried bitterly through the first part of it, but by the end of the first section, something had snapped back into place. I had forgotten how big of a battle we're in, how Satan wants to rob us of all our joy, make us doubt God, and make us miserable in general. So I did a little spiritual warfare and I slept so peacefully. Then I managed to get up much earlier this morning, have a quiet time with the Lord, go for a walk, have breakfast and do laundry all before 9:30. It made me feel so much more human and responsible somehow.
I know I'm a "plugger"; I push my favorite things on people all the time. But that book is really, really good if you're feeling down, like you're living a mediocre existence, hopeless, out of touch, and are beating yourself up for feeling that way. If you're in that place, give it a try. It's well worth it. That's it. No long discourse or major revelation. Just a little recommendation.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Joshua & Caleb were right
When Moses sent Joshua and Caleb and the other spies into the Promised Land land to check it out, they brought back reports of milk and honey flowing and giant fruit, as well as actual giants (Exodus 13 & 14). I think that somewhere in the back of my mind, I had reduced this to fairytale. Giants are hard enough to believe, but giant fruit? Come on! My experience had always been that the smaller fruit had more flavor, any large fruit seemed like a freak of nature; over-fertiziled and somehow tricked into growing really big, but losing it's great taste somewhere along the way. I think that it has been especially true in the last few years. I would buy these beautiful specimins and then be utterly disappointed when I bit into them. I had just about given up on fruit.
So when the giant strawberries started appearing in the souk, I would walk by thinking, they sure are beautiful, but they're too expensive and probably have no taste at all.
I did break down and buy oranges finally and they turned out to be so good that I thought that maybe the strawberries might be okay too. Yesterday I noticed that the price had come way down, so I decided to buy some. They don't come in the tiny little containers that you see in American stores; it's more like a container built for a family of eight and the average strawberry was about 2 1/2 inches. But I bought one thinking that probably the ones on the bottom were bad anyway. When I got home I bit into one (it was way too big to put the whole thing in my mouth!) and it was the sweetest, most flavorful thing I have tasted in ages. I had never before met a strawberry that didn't need a little sugar to make it sweet. And out of the whole package, there was one that was bad, and it was a very small one. Now I have more strawberries than any one single person needs, but oh well.
Lately I've been asking God to fill me with awe at His word. Maybe the giant strawberries are proof of His word, because I am now in awe of the fact that Joshua and Caleb were not exaggerating and it was not just a fairytale.
There really are Giants in the land as well--sometimes I'm overwhelmed with them. Tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes, coal mines collapsing, schools teaching that evolution is true and banning teachers from even suggesting that God made us and the earth, suicide bombers, and not knowing what's going to happen now that Israeli Prime Minister Sharon is incapacitated. But in the middle of all these giants, there are these strawberries. These little glimpses of the goodness of the Promised Land, a sign that God has not forsaken us, though our actions say that He should. God didn't want the children of Israel to fear the giants; He knew He could and would take care of them. But they let the fear crowd out the incredible blessings that God wanted to give them, so He let them wander in the desert for forty years.
Forty years.
No thank you.
God can handle the giants. I'm going to savour every bite of His goodness in the Promised Land.
And just in case you were wondering about the milk and honey, since I've been in Israel, not a drop of milk has gone bad in my house! I think I could drink it by the gallon, and let me assure you, this is no small miracle. I was always throwing out spoiled milk back home—I don't think I ever finished a container! As for the honey, I just bought my first and it definitely wasn't disappointing.
So when the giant strawberries started appearing in the souk, I would walk by thinking, they sure are beautiful, but they're too expensive and probably have no taste at all.
I did break down and buy oranges finally and they turned out to be so good that I thought that maybe the strawberries might be okay too. Yesterday I noticed that the price had come way down, so I decided to buy some. They don't come in the tiny little containers that you see in American stores; it's more like a container built for a family of eight and the average strawberry was about 2 1/2 inches. But I bought one thinking that probably the ones on the bottom were bad anyway. When I got home I bit into one (it was way too big to put the whole thing in my mouth!) and it was the sweetest, most flavorful thing I have tasted in ages. I had never before met a strawberry that didn't need a little sugar to make it sweet. And out of the whole package, there was one that was bad, and it was a very small one. Now I have more strawberries than any one single person needs, but oh well.
Lately I've been asking God to fill me with awe at His word. Maybe the giant strawberries are proof of His word, because I am now in awe of the fact that Joshua and Caleb were not exaggerating and it was not just a fairytale.
There really are Giants in the land as well--sometimes I'm overwhelmed with them. Tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes, coal mines collapsing, schools teaching that evolution is true and banning teachers from even suggesting that God made us and the earth, suicide bombers, and not knowing what's going to happen now that Israeli Prime Minister Sharon is incapacitated. But in the middle of all these giants, there are these strawberries. These little glimpses of the goodness of the Promised Land, a sign that God has not forsaken us, though our actions say that He should. God didn't want the children of Israel to fear the giants; He knew He could and would take care of them. But they let the fear crowd out the incredible blessings that God wanted to give them, so He let them wander in the desert for forty years.
Forty years.
No thank you.
God can handle the giants. I'm going to savour every bite of His goodness in the Promised Land.
And just in case you were wondering about the milk and honey, since I've been in Israel, not a drop of milk has gone bad in my house! I think I could drink it by the gallon, and let me assure you, this is no small miracle. I was always throwing out spoiled milk back home—I don't think I ever finished a container! As for the honey, I just bought my first and it definitely wasn't disappointing.
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