Disclaimer - I'm too tired to write coherently or concisely but it's now or never...
I just had the best Sunday. Went to a baptism in the morning, after which we had this really great party with lots of good food, sunshine, singsongs, dancing and all lovely stuff like that. The ceremony itself just had so much joy - four people took the plunge and each had such a special story. I know no-one's testimony is better or worse, each a magic part of kingdom history, but this one guy stood up there and told us about his life full of addiction and violence and total shit and said he gave his life to Jesus two weeks ago... It had been a bit more of a journey than that but the crux is that he said for the first time he now had a hope and that the darkness of it all had been broken by this light he never knew even possible. I suppose the thing about those really stark stories is that they can represent in a graphic image the reality of freedom that we all (can) have with Jesus. Darkness doesn't have to be obvious or even apparent in anyway to take a hold of a life and chain it all up. Loving the reminder. (Also loving the way I was sitting at the front right behind one of the baptisees who stood up and pulled down his jeans in front of me...! He was wearing shorts under but it was still *quite* unexpected.)
Talking about darkness... (and being in shock!)
I didn't make my deadline on Friday.
After a night of utter frustration, during which I was stupidly (nay miraculously) OK and able to keep afloat and I suppose jog on some (not running, that is too hardcore), I got to midday before I decided it wasn't possible anymore and I should prob go tell someone. But I'd kept at it till then, willing it to work. Crying out at times to take it all away (secretly hoping I would get hit by a car on my walk just enough that I could stop but not so bad it would hurt or have any long term detriment!) but then embracing the need to try and do my bit even if it didn't work out, so I felt like I had done all I could. At which point it still didn't work out.
How did that feel? Second time round, so sure, so joyful, so adamant that it would be a testimony to God's faithfulness like when Daniel went in that old den and Darius was dead impressed by the lack of death-by-lion. I didn't feel like my faith depended on it so much, more that those friends who saw me be so carefree and chilled would be a bit unimpressed if my God didn't rescue me. I wanted Him to work a specific miracle for what I thought it would be good for and I had set out very particular guidelines for how God should be honoured in this situation.
But I realise: it really isn't up to me to tell him how to roll. Actually, maybe this wasn't about God doing something that would impress all those people who I'd seen the day before but about what honour I personally could give to him. Maybe he wanted my affections in the dark situation rather than to "win people over" which, let's face it, He can do however He likes. There is a pretty sweet song by Ishmael - you must know him - which goes like this:
I praise the Lord when the sun comes out, but I won't if it get's too hot
I praise the Lord when it rains a little, but not if it rains a lot
I praise the Lord when things go my way, but I won't when the going is tough
I praise the Lord when I've plenty of cash, but I won't when I aint got enough
Obviously sarcastic. Brilliant. Friday I had to let go of the let down, relinquish the fear that I was going to fail, and just go with it and still trust. I don't like saying this 'cause I don't want to appear proud but at the same time I am delighted at the way in which depending on God drew me close enough to Him that when it turned sour it wasn't about giving up but about somehow trying to praise through it. Though I won't pretend it wasn't horrible and really gutting too at times and just utter emotional sleep deprived turmoil. Another song ('cause everyone else says it better) by another legend Graham K sums it up:
For the joys and for the sorrows, the best and worst of times
For this moment for tomorrow, for all that lies behind
Fears that crowd around me, for the failures of my plans
For the dreams of all I hope to be, the truth of what I am
For this I have Jesus (repeat 2.5 times for emphasis!)
My point? I don't know if it will ever get easy to give up on my plans... especially when this alternative involves continued pressure and an absolute lack of idea about the coming months and how I will possibly deal with further deadlines and exams and, well, life. But really when it comes down to it all these things will pass away and so once again I must look at the things that will not. He is the only thing.
I figure that if I did what I could and this still happened then it must the right thing, ergo be glad. I suppose that is the difference that the light makes: chases the dark out of situations so they haven't got the power to ensnare and destroy.
Don't get me wrong. I hate it a lot. Friday sucked ass and did threaten to break me. I hate not being free, I hate the stress and the excuses and the way in which I have to be needy and "special" and I wish I could see my friends freely and get involved in the homeless shelter (I'm not being holy, I like it there) and everything else I want to do. There's no point pretending life is amazing right now 'cause that will only devalue it all when it is amazing, but it is alright nonetheless. After all, there's a time to enjoy and a time to endure; a time to play and a time to work. But I don't mind the shit 'cause truly it does bring me closer to Jesus and I am by no means perfect but I ain't gonna lie, I am improving.
Being refined, duh, it is not going to be nice or quick or pain free and messless. But it is going to be incredible and as these deep foundations get laid and a seed is planted at the bottom of them a house can be built that will have fruit growing all around it (I like mixing my metaphors) and then it will be like a gingerbread cottage but instead of tempting and dangerous and far too indulgent it will be healthy and good and the right kind of natural sugars.
So walk, plod, run, crawl, skip, jog, shuffle, trudge, dance on. Which ever it is, as it gets me through the fire, I know I will not be burned.
Showing posts with label Waiting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Waiting. Show all posts
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Suddenly I Don't See
I'm looking into an abyss. I've not given up per se but I can't see the end. This is partly 'cause all the arguments I had fell apart when I realised something terribly problematic with a very integral concept of my essay. That is to say, I was just plain wrong. I now have no point to make and, though the beginning and middle parts of my essay are actually very good and were coming together quite nicely, they say totally different things and leave me with absolutely no comprehensive conclusion. All from a seemingly tiny detail too, I didn't think overlooking that would be this devastating.
But I am laughing about it. Which is, I think, the most important thing.
Plus, it turns out that being under pressure and having my faith challenged makes me write a lot of music. I now have 6 songs about not doing my homework...!
The way I see it, the NHS are all about sorting out my throat asap and not so much about my head (though I cannot blame my lack of understanding on anything but my own capacity) so maybe this deadline is actually God's way of getting me to write my first album...! Jokes.
Though it is true that give me any sort of pressure to get something done and I will instead create. As long as the pressure isn't to do something specifically creative, 'cause that would be too easy.
Back to waiting for revelation. I went and caffeined up so I would be in it for the long haul and now I have all this energy and nothing to apply it to. Like, I really don't know what to do next... Ah well, maybe I'll write another song!
But I am laughing about it. Which is, I think, the most important thing.
Plus, it turns out that being under pressure and having my faith challenged makes me write a lot of music. I now have 6 songs about not doing my homework...!
The way I see it, the NHS are all about sorting out my throat asap and not so much about my head (though I cannot blame my lack of understanding on anything but my own capacity) so maybe this deadline is actually God's way of getting me to write my first album...! Jokes.
Though it is true that give me any sort of pressure to get something done and I will instead create. As long as the pressure isn't to do something specifically creative, 'cause that would be too easy.
Back to waiting for revelation. I went and caffeined up so I would be in it for the long haul and now I have all this energy and nothing to apply it to. Like, I really don't know what to do next... Ah well, maybe I'll write another song!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Speechless, Sightless... Helpless?
I've not got a lot to say.
I also have limited capacity for actual speech given that my voice is dying. It's been ongoing for an incredibly long time and I haven't quite known what to do about - torn between waiting for it to mend and expecting it to sort itself out as time went by (particularly having quit smoking) so best keep exercising the muscle... the latter being by far the more tempting! Last week a very nice doctor put a camera up my nose and down my throat and as I lived out an episode of House (excepting the fact that he was a very nice doctor) he showed me the nodules that are forming on my vocal chords.
Which is a bit of a bummer. Not least 'cause I sing and love it (and want to be in a band just soon as I can) but also 'cause it does actually get in the way of socialising. Rather a lot. In fact, as I look back I realise how much I have been ploughing on regardless and ending up worn out and in pain... it's not the smokey atmosphere (which no longer exists in the UK) and alcohol (which I don't drink that much of actually :-O) that mean I wake up dry and hoarse but rather my compulsive "need" to talk. So that is going to have to change. We hope.
I have been referred for speech therapy which could take an indefinite amount of time to start and so I look ahead with trepidation: in part excited to be one day free to sing without feeling terribly bad very quickly and that maybe I can get back to a place where going out for a drink with friends is not daunting to the point of avoidable (maybe that is why I feel so old and boring?!); but also in part wary at the hard work it's going to involve to recover and aware of how much I must change. Which isn't in and of itself a bad thing as I have been working towards that a while (whilst not really knowing what it will look like when I get there)... but still, medical condition to force it to happen seems a bit extreme. Though not necessarily bad and I am incredibly grateful for my diagnosis, the care, the hope and the timing of everything as it sure beats not knowing and getting no help.
And what in the mean time? Well, last night I went to the pub for the last forseeable time. I can't hack talking over people like that (no, not my friends, just the background noise). Which again, given my degree needs, is probably no bad thing.
On the topic of which... I haven't got a hope in hell of completion or coming even close. My presentation was delayed a week 'cause I was "struggling" and the essay due in 2 weeks and 2 days looks ominous. Then there are the exams and other deadline in April and yet more in June. All the old attentive and mood dilemmas are arising and I feel *quite* pathetic. I literally cannot see all the way to the end and me still being alive. I have no vision at all.
Luckily though, my hope isn't in hell actually and, though I am still incredibly uncertain of what is going on in my spiritual life (a tale for another time) I know once again that if it hasn't all been a figment of my attention-seeking, eratic, desperate imagination then I am going to be OK. 'Cause there are about a million and one promises buried in that bible (none of which I have the energy to locate right now) that tell me so...
Hmmmmm. This place also seems a bit extreme, even if it is to facilitate me moving deeper with God. Though again, not neccesarily bad. Now I await various diagnoses that can potentially get me help here too... I just wish they could put a camera up my nose and into my brain to tell them what's going on.
God is faithful even when we are faithless. Apparently.
I also have limited capacity for actual speech given that my voice is dying. It's been ongoing for an incredibly long time and I haven't quite known what to do about - torn between waiting for it to mend and expecting it to sort itself out as time went by (particularly having quit smoking) so best keep exercising the muscle... the latter being by far the more tempting! Last week a very nice doctor put a camera up my nose and down my throat and as I lived out an episode of House (excepting the fact that he was a very nice doctor) he showed me the nodules that are forming on my vocal chords.
Which is a bit of a bummer. Not least 'cause I sing and love it (and want to be in a band just soon as I can) but also 'cause it does actually get in the way of socialising. Rather a lot. In fact, as I look back I realise how much I have been ploughing on regardless and ending up worn out and in pain... it's not the smokey atmosphere (which no longer exists in the UK) and alcohol (which I don't drink that much of actually :-O) that mean I wake up dry and hoarse but rather my compulsive "need" to talk. So that is going to have to change. We hope.
I have been referred for speech therapy which could take an indefinite amount of time to start and so I look ahead with trepidation: in part excited to be one day free to sing without feeling terribly bad very quickly and that maybe I can get back to a place where going out for a drink with friends is not daunting to the point of avoidable (maybe that is why I feel so old and boring?!); but also in part wary at the hard work it's going to involve to recover and aware of how much I must change. Which isn't in and of itself a bad thing as I have been working towards that a while (whilst not really knowing what it will look like when I get there)... but still, medical condition to force it to happen seems a bit extreme. Though not necessarily bad and I am incredibly grateful for my diagnosis, the care, the hope and the timing of everything as it sure beats not knowing and getting no help.
And what in the mean time? Well, last night I went to the pub for the last forseeable time. I can't hack talking over people like that (no, not my friends, just the background noise). Which again, given my degree needs, is probably no bad thing.
On the topic of which... I haven't got a hope in hell of completion or coming even close. My presentation was delayed a week 'cause I was "struggling" and the essay due in 2 weeks and 2 days looks ominous. Then there are the exams and other deadline in April and yet more in June. All the old attentive and mood dilemmas are arising and I feel *quite* pathetic. I literally cannot see all the way to the end and me still being alive. I have no vision at all.
Luckily though, my hope isn't in hell actually and, though I am still incredibly uncertain of what is going on in my spiritual life (a tale for another time) I know once again that if it hasn't all been a figment of my attention-seeking, eratic, desperate imagination then I am going to be OK. 'Cause there are about a million and one promises buried in that bible (none of which I have the energy to locate right now) that tell me so...
Hmmmmm. This place also seems a bit extreme, even if it is to facilitate me moving deeper with God. Though again, not neccesarily bad. Now I await various diagnoses that can potentially get me help here too... I just wish they could put a camera up my nose and into my brain to tell them what's going on.
God is faithful even when we are faithless. Apparently.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Bah Humbug
I am such a boring old fart. I've had it with Christmas parties. Everyone pretending it is going to be amazing when really it is just hyped up normal time but with people more uncomfortable, stressed, with silly expectations and sore feet. Don't get me wrong, all 4 of the ones I've been to so far have been enjoyable (went to a Ceilidh tonight!)... but it's hard work to keep merry for that long and I usually want to be at home curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea.
I really am old before my time. But it is difficult. I go to uni with people who are all at least 2 years younger than me and I already feel older than I am most of the time (I keep accidentally lying about my age). I hate being a student. I hate the stereotype and the funny hours and the lack of respect and the way people assume you like to stay up late and get wasted. I don't. I like to stay up late and write my blog and if I do drink alcohol I almost always want to fall asleep afterwards.
I still love learning. I have that to be thankful for. Today I had an exam worth 25% of my French unit and, while there are loads of things that weren't amazing and the listening was chronic, I was a bit prepared. And all because I did work! Which sounds pathetic and I don't want to self curse but I do find work very very hard to concentrate on. But today, in the space of about 5.5 hours I did I'd say at least 2.5 worth. Mixed up with chilling and eating and showering and playing the piano and all other good stuff. OK it sounds ridiculous but for me that was a miracle and a sign, a HUGE sign, that God is actually working in my life.
My second presentation last week was another one. The first I did before visiting La Suisse and I was grateful I managed to do anything (I had been so scared it wouldn't work out and I would lose all faith in God). The second one I genuinely believed that He would be there and He was. I remember saying to myself that this was not going to be fun but it was going to happen... and it did! And it went quite OK too - got a few laughs and that's what philosophy of maths is about afterall... I actually feel more faithful. I think.
What am I even talking about? There are two points me thinks. I am amazed and delighted that my work is starting to turn a corner. I am a boring Scrooge today that has lost her Christmas cheer and feels in limbo.
But I must remember what dear Jo said to me tonight. It was about my hair. She has wonderful long locks that I want badly but she said that sometimes she just wants to be short and choppy and crazy. That I need to get it out on my system now so that when I have it long I won't pine for the funky times. Transferring that to the analogy and fit it together with some of the other disconnected thoughts I've been having recently and I suppose one could say I need to live young, free and single while it lasts. Enjoy the journey, enjoy the crazy funky cool mystery that is not really knowing what is going on and be fresh while I still am (given that I am not actually physically that old comparatively and definitely not spiritually). I don't really know how much longer the hair will be short anyway. Could be weeks, could be years. Better make the most of it! Spike it up a bit and don't force the parting before it is really there...
I am just hoping I can do these things from the comfort of my own living room.
P.S. My blogging is off form at the moment. Sorry. Don't give up, I've got some good 'uns up my sleeve... Laters.
I really am old before my time. But it is difficult. I go to uni with people who are all at least 2 years younger than me and I already feel older than I am most of the time (I keep accidentally lying about my age). I hate being a student. I hate the stereotype and the funny hours and the lack of respect and the way people assume you like to stay up late and get wasted. I don't. I like to stay up late and write my blog and if I do drink alcohol I almost always want to fall asleep afterwards.
I still love learning. I have that to be thankful for. Today I had an exam worth 25% of my French unit and, while there are loads of things that weren't amazing and the listening was chronic, I was a bit prepared. And all because I did work! Which sounds pathetic and I don't want to self curse but I do find work very very hard to concentrate on. But today, in the space of about 5.5 hours I did I'd say at least 2.5 worth. Mixed up with chilling and eating and showering and playing the piano and all other good stuff. OK it sounds ridiculous but for me that was a miracle and a sign, a HUGE sign, that God is actually working in my life.
My second presentation last week was another one. The first I did before visiting La Suisse and I was grateful I managed to do anything (I had been so scared it wouldn't work out and I would lose all faith in God). The second one I genuinely believed that He would be there and He was. I remember saying to myself that this was not going to be fun but it was going to happen... and it did! And it went quite OK too - got a few laughs and that's what philosophy of maths is about afterall... I actually feel more faithful. I think.
What am I even talking about? There are two points me thinks. I am amazed and delighted that my work is starting to turn a corner. I am a boring Scrooge today that has lost her Christmas cheer and feels in limbo.
But I must remember what dear Jo said to me tonight. It was about my hair. She has wonderful long locks that I want badly but she said that sometimes she just wants to be short and choppy and crazy. That I need to get it out on my system now so that when I have it long I won't pine for the funky times. Transferring that to the analogy and fit it together with some of the other disconnected thoughts I've been having recently and I suppose one could say I need to live young, free and single while it lasts. Enjoy the journey, enjoy the crazy funky cool mystery that is not really knowing what is going on and be fresh while I still am (given that I am not actually physically that old comparatively and definitely not spiritually). I don't really know how much longer the hair will be short anyway. Could be weeks, could be years. Better make the most of it! Spike it up a bit and don't force the parting before it is really there...
I am just hoping I can do these things from the comfort of my own living room.
P.S. My blogging is off form at the moment. Sorry. Don't give up, I've got some good 'uns up my sleeve... Laters.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
A Discovery of Deception
I was just now thinking about what it is that's so hard about struggles. Life struggles, faith struggles, dealing with personal issues or just being motivated to live in all fullness. Just anything hard really.
And I discovered a LIE! You know one of those things that you just think without realising that it is a load of bollocks.
When I get demotivated, which is quite a lot actually, it feels like I am wasting life. I know I am doing wrong when I seek comfort in bad places (I've tried quite a few in my time and though my vices are less these days there are still plenty of things that get me, some more that others. Like blocking out reality by going on line, or comfort eating...) and generally don't live up to God's perfect ideal. Which really sucks.
Then of course enters the knowledge that I really need to sort out my self discipline. It is biblical and good (especially for managing time which is of utmost importance to me and also something that Mrs P31, my inspiration, did). It gives one self control instead of letting worldly things take over. Fasting is SUCH a good example, it can bring me out of a fleshly plane and helps me focus on the spiritual realm a bit more.
But something was going majorly wrong.
I've been a bit run down spiritually, going up'n'down in a mostly usual way but it has been growing slowly more negative as the low moments are becoming longer. I often put this kind of thing down to when God is doing cool stuff in and/or through me and the debil does not like it. Makes sense of late, life is pretty intense and exciting on many fronts...
So I have been really fixated on the goal of self-control as being my key to unlocking this depression. Like, getting out of bed on time, eating sensibly, setting goals for work and other such targets. All the stuff that I know works, is biblically sound and therapistically too come to think of it. Forming a habit and then inhabiting the form (Don'tcha love that?).
But I missed the point entire and I think that perhaps this kinda stems from the fact that I looked at the psychology and having noted that it's *like* the bible followed it instead; forgetting that the bible is the first truth and how things that looks like it are a semblance or a shadow of the truth. Likely to break down in their validity at some point, as they forget about my omnipotent God.
'Cause the thing that makes no sense is that when the moment is at it's most crucial - where every decision is hardest and the easiest things to do become huge goals; going to a lecture is a day's worth of achievement and getting a coursework actually completed and handed in on time feels like it should last a week; having a single positive thought feels like you have won some prize but the balance can tip in an instant - that is when I am supposed to exert self-control. It's already impressive to be disciplined when life is hunky dorey and I make the choice to get up before 9, wash, read, go to uni, pray, be slightly organised and tidy and make the most of most of my time. To then put my emotions at the other end of the scale where getting up at all becomes an achievement and turning up late to a seminar feels like I deserve a first class degree and THEN say I need to train myself into positive habits... Now THAT really is akin to getting a camel - a very miserable and stubborn camel - out of a big pit of mirey clay and telling it to understand Second Order Logic.
Duh. This isn't Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. I am not supposed to be "training" myself to do anything.
I've just seen that what I've been trying to do is akin to using Will Power and thus living in my own strength. By sneakily disguising it under the name self-control which we all know is a good thing Satan can bring in an incredible amount of pain to a struggle that is supposed to be easy to bear. That verse in 2 Peter, "make every effort..." doesn't mean you "try on your own". We cannot do these things by own own strength. This self-control that helps us live a Godly life, it is one of the fruits of the Spirit and it is funny how utterly subtly I just forgot that these are given to us and not something we work for. We must desire it but we do not have to DO a single thing to receive it.
Those who hope in the Lord WILL renew their strength and rise up on wings like eagles.
I hope so I will. I don't will to have hope.
And I discovered a LIE! You know one of those things that you just think without realising that it is a load of bollocks.
When I get demotivated, which is quite a lot actually, it feels like I am wasting life. I know I am doing wrong when I seek comfort in bad places (I've tried quite a few in my time and though my vices are less these days there are still plenty of things that get me, some more that others. Like blocking out reality by going on line, or comfort eating...) and generally don't live up to God's perfect ideal. Which really sucks.
Then of course enters the knowledge that I really need to sort out my self discipline. It is biblical and good (especially for managing time which is of utmost importance to me and also something that Mrs P31, my inspiration, did). It gives one self control instead of letting worldly things take over. Fasting is SUCH a good example, it can bring me out of a fleshly plane and helps me focus on the spiritual realm a bit more.
But something was going majorly wrong.
I've been a bit run down spiritually, going up'n'down in a mostly usual way but it has been growing slowly more negative as the low moments are becoming longer. I often put this kind of thing down to when God is doing cool stuff in and/or through me and the debil does not like it. Makes sense of late, life is pretty intense and exciting on many fronts...
So I have been really fixated on the goal of self-control as being my key to unlocking this depression. Like, getting out of bed on time, eating sensibly, setting goals for work and other such targets. All the stuff that I know works, is biblically sound and therapistically too come to think of it. Forming a habit and then inhabiting the form (Don'tcha love that?).
But I missed the point entire and I think that perhaps this kinda stems from the fact that I looked at the psychology and having noted that it's *like* the bible followed it instead; forgetting that the bible is the first truth and how things that looks like it are a semblance or a shadow of the truth. Likely to break down in their validity at some point, as they forget about my omnipotent God.
'Cause the thing that makes no sense is that when the moment is at it's most crucial - where every decision is hardest and the easiest things to do become huge goals; going to a lecture is a day's worth of achievement and getting a coursework actually completed and handed in on time feels like it should last a week; having a single positive thought feels like you have won some prize but the balance can tip in an instant - that is when I am supposed to exert self-control. It's already impressive to be disciplined when life is hunky dorey and I make the choice to get up before 9, wash, read, go to uni, pray, be slightly organised and tidy and make the most of most of my time. To then put my emotions at the other end of the scale where getting up at all becomes an achievement and turning up late to a seminar feels like I deserve a first class degree and THEN say I need to train myself into positive habits... Now THAT really is akin to getting a camel - a very miserable and stubborn camel - out of a big pit of mirey clay and telling it to understand Second Order Logic.
Duh. This isn't Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. I am not supposed to be "training" myself to do anything.
I've just seen that what I've been trying to do is akin to using Will Power and thus living in my own strength. By sneakily disguising it under the name self-control which we all know is a good thing Satan can bring in an incredible amount of pain to a struggle that is supposed to be easy to bear. That verse in 2 Peter, "make every effort..." doesn't mean you "try on your own". We cannot do these things by own own strength. This self-control that helps us live a Godly life, it is one of the fruits of the Spirit and it is funny how utterly subtly I just forgot that these are given to us and not something we work for. We must desire it but we do not have to DO a single thing to receive it.
Those who hope in the Lord WILL renew their strength and rise up on wings like eagles.
I hope so I will. I don't will to have hope.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sidetracked
In the days before I came to Geneva I was building up quite a few blog thoughts. I can't promise they will ever make it here: back then I was too busy with life and not online; now I have plenty of time and a (sneaky) wireless connection with a comfy sofa, but my thoughts are elsewhere - and where I am not even sure.
The thing about blogging is, sometimes a post can only be posted when it is relevant to what you just did. I will start writing about a particular incident from my day then be rushed off on the next project; getting home at night with no way to finish and by the morning the moment has passed and I am on to the next thing.
Which in this situation I suppose is not critical. One might even argue that I was making a choice between real life and e-life and that in doing so while BGB might miss out, Kat(i)e was almost certainly edified... which can be no bad thing.
But let's suppose, just for a moment, that this blog actually suffered. Like, from neglect that is. It hasn't become something that it could have and is constantly yelling "I have unfulfilled potential 'cause you aren't writing in me".
If I don't complete on time I will miss the deadline and then that particular thought will be null and void - like a news reporter where the big story is all about what I had for lunch and how God revealed something exciting to me about it. It is true that in life there are other things in the mix and only 24 hours in the day (well, let's not make that a hard and fast rule, God can do what He likes with time but I don't think I should schedule my days in that knowledge) and that we can't have everything but I wish, sometimes, that I weighed up the payoff a bit more - regretting posts that I ought to have made but never quite got around to dealing with a tricky paragraph, or looking up a certain fact, or being disciplined enough to finish or, well, facing up to something that really just needs a total rethink.
I know a lot about waiting. I am good at that these days. Well, a bit better anyway. You know what they say about the 7 years Jacob waited for Rachel and then he got given Leah and had to start again? There is so much importance in patience and trusting God (or whatever you may believe) and learning something very valuable so that you are ready when God finally says Yes! Sometimes it maybe even just be about the self-discipline or the sacrifice but wait is DEFINITELY a good, nay a God, thing.
But I am also good at "waiting" when I actually mean Procrastinating. Thinking that at some point in the future it will be more appropriate and perhaps that if something is hard right now it is evidence that the time is not right. Looking at the bible bit it can be easy to ignore the fact that though Isaac waited and worked 7 years for Leah, he only had to do another week to get Rachel - the next 7 years came after the prize. It makes sense doesn't it? I mean, we are never going to be totally ready for anything.
I know that when I write my blog it takes me longer than it ought to. I'm easily sidetracked when difficulties come up and get a bit perfectionist about the silliest of things. The real problem arises however when I then pretend that if life is too full to get it done I obviously was not supposed to make that blog. Maybe if I didn't avoid the more unpleasant things and instead looked them straight in the face and dealt I would be able to press the 'publish' button instead of the 'save for later' one a bit more.
I wasn't sure where I was going with this post. It kinda just grew out of sitting down with, for once, absolutely no idea what to say. The message coming out for me seems about discipline and getting a task that I wish was something that could put off till later, completed. Lord knows that's been relevant a lot since starting back at uni! I need to stop saying it is about the one day when actually, more scarily, it might be about the now.
Wait and procrastinate (I HAVE to use that rhyme) can look very similar but they are vastly different. One gives you more in the long run and t'other, well, it leaves you somewhat lacking.
So I better go back through and redraft till I am content with this post. If you are reading it then you can be happy for me that this day I didn't delay.
Next stop, applying this to something that will actually be life changing...!
The thing about blogging is, sometimes a post can only be posted when it is relevant to what you just did. I will start writing about a particular incident from my day then be rushed off on the next project; getting home at night with no way to finish and by the morning the moment has passed and I am on to the next thing.
Which in this situation I suppose is not critical. One might even argue that I was making a choice between real life and e-life and that in doing so while BGB might miss out, Kat(i)e was almost certainly edified... which can be no bad thing.
But let's suppose, just for a moment, that this blog actually suffered. Like, from neglect that is. It hasn't become something that it could have and is constantly yelling "I have unfulfilled potential 'cause you aren't writing in me".
If I don't complete on time I will miss the deadline and then that particular thought will be null and void - like a news reporter where the big story is all about what I had for lunch and how God revealed something exciting to me about it. It is true that in life there are other things in the mix and only 24 hours in the day (well, let's not make that a hard and fast rule, God can do what He likes with time but I don't think I should schedule my days in that knowledge) and that we can't have everything but I wish, sometimes, that I weighed up the payoff a bit more - regretting posts that I ought to have made but never quite got around to dealing with a tricky paragraph, or looking up a certain fact, or being disciplined enough to finish or, well, facing up to something that really just needs a total rethink.
I know a lot about waiting. I am good at that these days. Well, a bit better anyway. You know what they say about the 7 years Jacob waited for Rachel and then he got given Leah and had to start again? There is so much importance in patience and trusting God (or whatever you may believe) and learning something very valuable so that you are ready when God finally says Yes! Sometimes it maybe even just be about the self-discipline or the sacrifice but wait is DEFINITELY a good, nay a God, thing.
But I am also good at "waiting" when I actually mean Procrastinating. Thinking that at some point in the future it will be more appropriate and perhaps that if something is hard right now it is evidence that the time is not right. Looking at the bible bit it can be easy to ignore the fact that though Isaac waited and worked 7 years for Leah, he only had to do another week to get Rachel - the next 7 years came after the prize. It makes sense doesn't it? I mean, we are never going to be totally ready for anything.
I know that when I write my blog it takes me longer than it ought to. I'm easily sidetracked when difficulties come up and get a bit perfectionist about the silliest of things. The real problem arises however when I then pretend that if life is too full to get it done I obviously was not supposed to make that blog. Maybe if I didn't avoid the more unpleasant things and instead looked them straight in the face and dealt I would be able to press the 'publish' button instead of the 'save for later' one a bit more.
I wasn't sure where I was going with this post. It kinda just grew out of sitting down with, for once, absolutely no idea what to say. The message coming out for me seems about discipline and getting a task that I wish was something that could put off till later, completed. Lord knows that's been relevant a lot since starting back at uni! I need to stop saying it is about the one day when actually, more scarily, it might be about the now.
Wait and procrastinate (I HAVE to use that rhyme) can look very similar but they are vastly different. One gives you more in the long run and t'other, well, it leaves you somewhat lacking.
So I better go back through and redraft till I am content with this post. If you are reading it then you can be happy for me that this day I didn't delay.
Next stop, applying this to something that will actually be life changing...!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
I wish I wasn’t a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
OK I’m not. I don’t have flowers in my hair and, technically, am not really a punk rocker either.
But I sure as hell look like one.
Today, ladies and gents, is the next installment in my most major, nay famous, analogy. My hair cuts. (See here for the full hairstory.)
I have gone and gotten all controversial on 1 Corinthian 11’s ass. Which I will in due course (or not, I am aware I make empty promises when it comes to blogs and apologise. Please Matthew 18 me) be expounding on but today in not the day for biblical debates (I think that sounds more like a Tuesday thing doesn’t it?).
I no longer have face length hair. It doesn’t even cover my ears. In fact, some may argue that my whole attempt to have long locks has been somewhat marred by my decision to cut it all off to not more than 2 inches in any place.
‘Citing though, in’t it?
I have been this way since Monday. The title might suggest that I am not best please with the idea. “Getting tired of it already are you Kat(i)e?” I hear you cry. “That’s what happens when you make a whimsical decision on a bored impulse.” Should have stuck to the waiting slowly and repeatedly recolouring to bring myself into some kind of semblance of truth till I had fully grown through, maybe?
But the thing is, it was getting a bit much. Constant redying was a drain on the resources if nothing else and the effect did not really last very long ever and wasn’t always as good a match each time. It stood me in good stead for a time but the fact remains that some things are too damaged to repair and you do just need to cut off and start again.
And this does indeed fit in well with where I am at right now. Check out Ezekiel 39 (particularly vs. 12-16) and you will see my life story. As long as you can replace Israel with Kat(i)e; Gog with [insert terrors from the world here]; skeletons with assortment of left over memories, insecurities, traits, resentments, attachments etc etc and tweak a few other key phrases like bury, search party and land. The essence is there though and I am indeed 7 months on from doing some pretty big battles (in the spiritual sense) and have been, on my return, doing some major cleansing (a mixture of literal and symbolic) and burying (of people, possessions and thought patterns – metaphorically that is). The to-the-day “coincidences” have been uncanny and I have, during the week at my folks, been doing some more sorting out of actual stuff. I am cutting the crap and sometimes you just have to be drastic.
And that is what I did hairlistically speaking too. I chopped away at the ashen (as in a shade of blonde and post fire!) remains and salvaged the roots, where the true colour is at. Underneath it all I had enough new growth to make a proper style of it. Just.
And that just is what I don’t like so much. It is cool enough and faking it was hard work, but really I do want more. I want to have a bob again and be looking forward expectantly to it hitting my shoulder blades. And beyond…
But this all takes time. Patience. Waiting. At least I am back to "how I was intended". The remnants of the bleach attack are, aside from a few tiny wisps at the front, all but lost. The colour? Fabulously "ginge" ☺ Being at the start of what I know will be a long process is pretty daunting whilst not particularly pretty, but it is real. I'm getting established and am on my way.
Which also fits in with what I'm getting up to. Yesterday I was all organised, checking out about studying, organising support, paying bills, ringing the gas man, seeing the carpenter, sending off insurance papers. Today a few more errands and dealing with "household affairs". All the grown up stuff! Revolution is indeed in the air.
But I sure as hell look like one.
Today, ladies and gents, is the next installment in my most major, nay famous, analogy. My hair cuts. (See here for the full hairstory.)
I have gone and gotten all controversial on 1 Corinthian 11’s ass. Which I will in due course (or not, I am aware I make empty promises when it comes to blogs and apologise. Please Matthew 18 me) be expounding on but today in not the day for biblical debates (I think that sounds more like a Tuesday thing doesn’t it?).
I no longer have face length hair. It doesn’t even cover my ears. In fact, some may argue that my whole attempt to have long locks has been somewhat marred by my decision to cut it all off to not more than 2 inches in any place.
‘Citing though, in’t it?
I have been this way since Monday. The title might suggest that I am not best please with the idea. “Getting tired of it already are you Kat(i)e?” I hear you cry. “That’s what happens when you make a whimsical decision on a bored impulse.” Should have stuck to the waiting slowly and repeatedly recolouring to bring myself into some kind of semblance of truth till I had fully grown through, maybe?
But the thing is, it was getting a bit much. Constant redying was a drain on the resources if nothing else and the effect did not really last very long ever and wasn’t always as good a match each time. It stood me in good stead for a time but the fact remains that some things are too damaged to repair and you do just need to cut off and start again.
And this does indeed fit in well with where I am at right now. Check out Ezekiel 39 (particularly vs. 12-16) and you will see my life story. As long as you can replace Israel with Kat(i)e; Gog with [insert terrors from the world here]; skeletons with assortment of left over memories, insecurities, traits, resentments, attachments etc etc and tweak a few other key phrases like bury, search party and land. The essence is there though and I am indeed 7 months on from doing some pretty big battles (in the spiritual sense) and have been, on my return, doing some major cleansing (a mixture of literal and symbolic) and burying (of people, possessions and thought patterns – metaphorically that is). The to-the-day “coincidences” have been uncanny and I have, during the week at my folks, been doing some more sorting out of actual stuff. I am cutting the crap and sometimes you just have to be drastic.
And that is what I did hairlistically speaking too. I chopped away at the ashen (as in a shade of blonde and post fire!) remains and salvaged the roots, where the true colour is at. Underneath it all I had enough new growth to make a proper style of it. Just.
And that just is what I don’t like so much. It is cool enough and faking it was hard work, but really I do want more. I want to have a bob again and be looking forward expectantly to it hitting my shoulder blades. And beyond…
But this all takes time. Patience. Waiting. At least I am back to "how I was intended". The remnants of the bleach attack are, aside from a few tiny wisps at the front, all but lost. The colour? Fabulously "ginge" ☺ Being at the start of what I know will be a long process is pretty daunting whilst not particularly pretty, but it is real. I'm getting established and am on my way.
Which also fits in with what I'm getting up to. Yesterday I was all organised, checking out about studying, organising support, paying bills, ringing the gas man, seeing the carpenter, sending off insurance papers. Today a few more errands and dealing with "household affairs". All the grown up stuff! Revolution is indeed in the air.
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