Tonight I'm feeling a bit nostalgic. It's quiet in my apartment. Sitting atop my new eggplant-colored chair, laptop perched upon my lap and listening to the sounds of the cars drive by on the dampened Boulevard, I reflect.
Moments, several moments, too many moments, this past week brought me back to the reality of the brokenness that exists in the lives of people that I love. Just minutes ago I sent an email that was challenging to write. Part of the larger story is that I don't know where these two friends are or what has happened in the recent months. I feel left out and unaware, but not so much wounded by the lack of inclusion in their affairs as the limited knowledge of how life is for them and what has transpired between them. Email is never my choice communication medium especially when the circumstances require greater sensitivity and care. And, this added to the degree of stress I felt as I typed. I wanted to be careful and loving and available and grateful.
It's not just this circumstance, but as I mentioned, many. People are broken. People make good decisions. People make poor decisions. People seek wholeness. People hurt others. People are hurt by others. People grow. People remain stagnant. People want to control their own lives. The list goes on and on.
As I have continued to grow in my relationship with God, one thing I've noticed is a increasing awareness of my own brokenness. For some, this might sound miserable - "Becoming more in tune with how messed up I really am? Why would I want to do that?" For me, it has been so encouraging and freeing. In the midst of seeing my junk and dealing with it (not running from it, avoiding it, ignoring it), I have an immense gratitude for the work of Jesus in my life. I don't have to do this on my own! I am completely loved and accepted for who I am! I am forgiven! I am secure! I am in process! I am made whole!
Yet in my humanity, I am still broken. I still fail. I still hurt others. I am still hurt. That's life...
Where does the nostalgia fit in to all of this? If you know me, you know that I see the glass as "half full!" When life tosses you lemons... Well, I make lemonade. Though, as I get older I've noticed my tendency to "sit" longer in the grief of the brokenness. At times it is overwhelming. I don't think I ever considered how the actions of those that I love would impact my own heart and life. But they have... Deeply. Even when it had nothing to do with me. I'm learning that the decisions we make take their toll on those that we most care about - for better or worse. The challenge is this: How do I live rightly?
For my part of it, I know that I have to trust God to continue to show me how to do so beginning in the smallest decisions of my life. I have to ask him to show me the potential repercussions of my choices and I need to choose the road that may be most challenging to walk down in the present, but that which will most bless and encourage the people that he places in my life. After all, it's not just about me. My hope is that I will finish well.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Painting = Peace
I've loved my day. I woke up fairly early this morning after achieving a limited amount of sleep (I have a head cold that has hung on, allowing me around 6ish hours of sleep these last few days; I'm sure the transition back East hasn't helped the situation), enjoyed some Ruby Red grapefruit juice while paying bills and going through stacks of mail, headed to the Post Office to send things off and came home. In that moment, I felt done for the day. I'd accomplished a ton and wondered how I'd spend the afternoon.
Not long after, my roommate and I were discussing our days and both stated a need to go to Target. I mentioned that I'd been thinking for weeks about the area rug I've wanted to find for the living room (my roommate's musings these last months about the missing item has become a prominent idea in my brain for the room) and we both thought it'd be good to head to Home Depot to check out some options she'd seen a while back.
Somehow, in the midst of this brief conversation, the topic of paint arose. I've been dying to paint the bathroom since I moved in three years ago and my roommate has been unsettled by a certain living room wall that has maintained a basic off white color (an old roommate and I painted several other walls, but unsure of how to approach the largest that connected living and dining spaces, left it) for years. She pulled out swatches she's been considering for her new apartment (sad! losing another roommate!) and all of a sudden, colors for both rooms stood out among the pack. It was completely unplanned, but there they were - the PERFECT bathroom color and the other to tie the living and dining room areas together in color harmony!
We couldn't believe it!
Finishing quickly at Target, we headed to Home Depot. Took a look at the rugs, but finding nothing exciting, moved on and purchased the paint, pans, edger, etc. The bathroom would be a sort of honey yellow and the wall in the living space would be a pearly gray. We moved on to Harvard Square to look at a couple more shops with area rugs - found a steal on two lamp stands (!) - stopped into Starbucks (of course!) and headed home a few hours after our departure.
The last hours have been well spent. It will sound weird, but I am so grateful for the gift of these two colors. Seriously, my house is more of a home tonight as a result of the changes and I feel so peaceful. There is something to be said about the process of painting. Some people love it, others abhor it; I'm in the "love" crowd. To paint and create change in a space that makes it more inviting, provides continuity and leaves you with a sense of wholeness in the environment is a thing of beauty. I'm always amazed by the overwhelming feeling of rest I experience when I paint - like deeply inhaling and releasing that air. Breathe in. Breathe out.
We sat and enjoyed the space for some time after completing the projects. It was sweet to discuss our perspectives on the process (we've discussed this stuff many times this year) and how it felt to complete it. As she moves out next month, I'm left in my beautiful condo with more of a sense of completion and "home." It's a gift and significant that her input has brought this to bear. I'm going to miss this roommate so much, but I'm so thankful for the opportunity to learn from her and see something completed that we both had hoped for in different ways.
Next on the list: well, that area rug that is still escaping me and more wall art. That said, I'll soon have a Wendy White original hanging somewhere in my house. I can't wait to see what it looks like and will share that story sometime in the near future! In the meantime, feel free to pop over and see the changes. :)
Not long after, my roommate and I were discussing our days and both stated a need to go to Target. I mentioned that I'd been thinking for weeks about the area rug I've wanted to find for the living room (my roommate's musings these last months about the missing item has become a prominent idea in my brain for the room) and we both thought it'd be good to head to Home Depot to check out some options she'd seen a while back.
Somehow, in the midst of this brief conversation, the topic of paint arose. I've been dying to paint the bathroom since I moved in three years ago and my roommate has been unsettled by a certain living room wall that has maintained a basic off white color (an old roommate and I painted several other walls, but unsure of how to approach the largest that connected living and dining spaces, left it) for years. She pulled out swatches she's been considering for her new apartment (sad! losing another roommate!) and all of a sudden, colors for both rooms stood out among the pack. It was completely unplanned, but there they were - the PERFECT bathroom color and the other to tie the living and dining room areas together in color harmony!
We couldn't believe it!
Finishing quickly at Target, we headed to Home Depot. Took a look at the rugs, but finding nothing exciting, moved on and purchased the paint, pans, edger, etc. The bathroom would be a sort of honey yellow and the wall in the living space would be a pearly gray. We moved on to Harvard Square to look at a couple more shops with area rugs - found a steal on two lamp stands (!) - stopped into Starbucks (of course!) and headed home a few hours after our departure.
The last hours have been well spent. It will sound weird, but I am so grateful for the gift of these two colors. Seriously, my house is more of a home tonight as a result of the changes and I feel so peaceful. There is something to be said about the process of painting. Some people love it, others abhor it; I'm in the "love" crowd. To paint and create change in a space that makes it more inviting, provides continuity and leaves you with a sense of wholeness in the environment is a thing of beauty. I'm always amazed by the overwhelming feeling of rest I experience when I paint - like deeply inhaling and releasing that air. Breathe in. Breathe out.
We sat and enjoyed the space for some time after completing the projects. It was sweet to discuss our perspectives on the process (we've discussed this stuff many times this year) and how it felt to complete it. As she moves out next month, I'm left in my beautiful condo with more of a sense of completion and "home." It's a gift and significant that her input has brought this to bear. I'm going to miss this roommate so much, but I'm so thankful for the opportunity to learn from her and see something completed that we both had hoped for in different ways.
Next on the list: well, that area rug that is still escaping me and more wall art. That said, I'll soon have a Wendy White original hanging somewhere in my house. I can't wait to see what it looks like and will share that story sometime in the near future! In the meantime, feel free to pop over and see the changes. :)
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