Dreams on the back burner

She opened her purse and pulled out a kleenex, dabbing her eyes as she admitted disappointment. “I just feel like my soul is unsettled”, she shared. I can relate to this heartache in a way because we are in a very similar situation. I have a feeling there are more people in this boat with us than we realize, considering the current economic nightmare our country is trudging through. We own a house in the city we left to move here and are in the process of trying to rent it to someone…again. In the meantime we rent a townhouse, which is nice, in a safe, quiet neighborhood, fairly reasonable in price and adequate space for our family and two fur-balls we call pets. Deep in my heart is the dream that someday we’ll have our own place, and all our stuff will be in one place. We’ll have more room to have friends in and can really settle in. We’ll have a yard and a garage and on it goes. My friend is in this same boat – she and her husband own a home and can’t sell it. Meanwhile they’re living with family here. We both admitted we have more than we need but we can’t shake the dream of each being settled in a place of our own.

ist2_2936389-young-couple-dreaming-about-a-houseI don’t really know how to let go of this dream. It’s a daily process – trying to remain content and thankful and focus on other things. It’s interesting the things that make us feel settled in our hearts and souls: having a permanent residence, all belongings moved in and in their places, a steady job, a routine we’re used to, comfort zone stuff. Vice versa, temporary situations, not having all your belongings accessible to you, lots of change, living with someone else and feeling like you’re an outsider – like it’s not really your home – all of these seem to keep the contentedness of heart at bay. There seems to be a longing inside most of us to have a place, to have a home, to be settled down.

Maybe that’s why we feel so unsettled in this life. Continue reading

When Love Hurts

Is it worth it? Loving is investing, giving, receiving, risking… Is it worth it when you may not get to have the person you love in your life for good?

God has blessed me time and time again with a special friend, a mentor, a confidant, a fun & crazy partner in crime and then for some reason they leave, move away, or we part ways on this path. For instance, getting really close to someone, just starting to feel that wonderful closeness where they know you, you know them, and you like each other anyway. You feel comfortable with them, even when there’s nothing to say. You know they would be there no matter what and you can trust them.

nicecolourorigamirainwaterboat-50684c940f0d2264bb02f3f84ddf4319_h1In a way all of the people in my life are like a bunch of paper ships being set out on a creek. They float downstream together but then at times one or two may veer off and fall behind or even take a different course altogether. It’s just the way it is. Life is like a creek in that way. People come into our lives but they usually don’t stay there forever. Sometimes they “fall behind” as I keep floating along or the other way around and I’m watching them sail away from me into another future than mine. So…is it really worth investing in people and relationships when you know they’ll probably have to go sometime?

Recently I learned that two more dear friends of mine are going to be heading off in a different direction. As I mulled over the news on my way home from work I bemoaned the situation to God. Why? We are close and know each other well. Just when we’d gotten so comfortable with each other – like family – now they have to leave? I felt like God asked me, “Would you rather not have met them at all? Would you rather have missed out on knowing them – loving them?” “No,” I sulked. I get the point.

Love is worth it. My life is richer because of them. No matter the length of time that I get to sail along with someone, the time together is worth the risk, the investment and even the sadness when they sail on without me or I have to leave them behind.

So love.

Workin for a livin

Middle daughter is about to get driver’s license.

Middle daughter wants a car.

After parents laugh hysterically they tell her they are broke.

Middle daughter realizes that to make money you must work.

Middle daughter gets a job!

Congrats Kaikin!  She’ll be bagging your groceries at the local store starting soon and savin’ her way to an automobile.  Looking back, I wish I would have gone to a grocery store or restaurant for my first job.  I worked in a quiet clothing store and was pretty much bored to tears every evening.  Those were the days when you really dressed up for work, too, so I’d be standing around in high heels, whistling and changing the clothes on the mannequins every night just to make the time go by.

Love

“Could it really be that simple?”  I thought as I read “The Shack”*.  Jesus had just told the main character that the expectations put on us as believers in this world are not from God – that all we need to do is to love without agenda.  Love.  Just love.  Love God.  Love people.

What a freeing thought!   It bears up to thorough scrutiny, too, aligning with what God’s Word tells us to do and with all that Jesus taught.  To love is to accomplish everything else that God wants from us: bringing others to Him in relationship, helping people in need, maintaining and thriving in relationship to other people, knowing and enjoying closeness with our Creator, having fulfillment and purpose in this life, and more.   God is love.  He’s relational.  Interacting and relating are what He’s all about.  After all, He created people to have relationship with them, to interact, to love them and be loved by them… by us.

Whatever you’re about today, however long your task list, however heavy the load of guilt that you’ve piled upon yourself as you try and be a “good Christian”, let it go and just love.

I am remembering a song my parents taught me as a child

Tell me, Mimi, do you love Jesus?
Oh yes I love Jesus….

Tell me why do you love Jesus?
Because He first loved me.

*The Shack, by William P. Young