I don't feel like thinking very hard. I just have a few thoughts swirling around and I wanted to get them out. I wrote a little bit when I got home from work yesterday morning. Only yesterday morning. Yesterday feels like a few days ago already.
I seem to feel the need to write after working 4 shifts straight. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's my stress relief. Maybe it's a natural result of having to put my life on hold for 4 days... a lot of stuff just needs to come pouring out.
I think I've been stressed lately. I can't be sure but... if I feel like I'm just barely surviving from one day to another... precariously on the verge of sinking but somehow sustained by some buoyancy which keeps my nose hovering just above the surface of the water.. barely enough to allow me to breathe but not enough to allow me to breathe very deeply... it's definitely a sustaining grace that I can only attribute to God. This God-given buoyancy will not allow me to sink... but maybe right now... it's also not enough to carry all the weight I keep wanting to place on my shoulders. It's just enough for me and my needs. I think I need to rest... and I need to let some things go. I'm not sure what. I just don't want to burn out.
Ok anyway... so this is what I wrote yesterday morning:
I just finished four shifts in a row... I came home and decided to wash my car... and then decided to wash my mom's car... and while I was doing it I figured I might as well wax them and wash the rims and clean the tires. I'm definitely NOT a morning person but there's something about doing manual labor really early in the morning... with the briskness of the morning air filling my lungs... the quiet of a neighborhood still in slumber... and then the gratification of washing my car for the first time in four months (I know... it's appalling)... and making something dirty and dusty... clean and shiny again... it made me feel quite happy. I couldn't believe I had the energy to clean. But... now that it's done and my arms are sufficiently exhausted... my brain won't shut down.Something I read a few days ago has been stuck in my mind as well.
As I was waxing my car... I was forced to examine the exterior pretty closely... section by section... and I noticed a lot of things. I was pretty sure I had not hit as many things while in the driver's seat as the evidence suggests... many of the dings and scratches must have either happened while my car was parked or while I wasn't paying attention. Certain things I know I've committed... by accident... and the evidence is blaringly there... the ramifications of my carelessness or my Asian-female driving has left blemishes and scars on my car and my rims.
I remembered a time when I would agonize over every little dent or a scratch. Now... I don't think I'm callous to them... I just figure that... it's a part of having, owning, and driving a car. As I did my final inspection... the microfiber towel in hand... gliding across the exterior of one of my most relied-upon and useful gifts that bears title to my name (I don't even think that made sense...)... I was so very thankful to have my car. I know I'm crazy and I talk to my belongings. I'm not an only child. I'm not friendless... but sometimes my objects are so personal and meaningful to me... they're like my friends. I talk to my cupcake bear. I talked to my bag of cheez-its the other day. I do tend to talk to my drinkware quite often. Very attached to my drinkware. Anyway... so I was talking to my car. More like thinking to my car but... just appreciating her for being there for me... for carrying my things... for taking me to far-away places... for enabling me to get to work every week.. for never breaking down on me... for taking a beating when I'm not looking... we had some good times together... and we'll undoubtedly have more. I was glad to have her there for me.
The LORD will tear down the house of the proud,
But He will establish the boundary of the widow. Prov 15:25.
Something about the tenderness of God towards widows always moves my heart. I'm very attentive to the widows or the mention of widows in scripture. Back in the day when a woman's security and livelihood depended on the men in their lives... to be widowed was to be desolate. To be widowed and then to have your only son pass away... was double desolation. To be widowed and have two sons pass away... that was ultimate desolation and worthy of changing your name to Mara (or bitterness).
Four ppl in the past few days have asked me different variations of the same question, "don't you want a family?" I thought about what the loss of Anderson has truly meant to me. It was not just losing my husband... it was losing the life we had together... the dreams we dreamt... our future and all the hope I had invested in "us"... the security of having him take care of me and our household. I'd lost the dream of having him father my children... the family we could have had together... "growing old" together... forever. I understand a little bit of the desolation. The more I pondered the desolation of loss... the more I realized that... I have been well-taken-care of. My boundaries have been established. And while the widows back in the day depended on the mercy of those around them... they did have to live by faith... and I'm sure that some of them grew bitter and wretched in their widowdom... but I'm also sure that some were refined in their desolation... in their poverty... who grew to become pillars of faith... thankful for every little bit they were given... and also, just as readily... giving it back... knowing that even if I only have 2 mites to live on... if I invest my 2 mites to the Lord... He will establish my boundary and provide for my every need. Yes, I might want a family, but what I have now is what I need. And I'm making the most of what I've got when I've got it... and what I've got is time, I think.
The Widow’s Offering - Mark 12:41-44 (NIV)
41 Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. 42 But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.
43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”
I'm thankful for my life lessons that have taught me more about faith. I've learned so much about faith through the situations I've encountered these past 21 months or so in my journey through widowdom. I'm also thankful for the wear and tear I've collected along the way. The dings and dents in my car don't really make my car run better... but they don't inhibit functionality either. They're minor. Getting beat up along the way means that I'm using my car... I'm being exposed to the elements... I'm living life, gaining invaluable experiences... Not a perfect analogy. OK switching gears... another thing that I've been thinking about lately...
I heard something twice on the radio on the way to work... sometime in the last 10 days. I'm pretty sure if I heard it twice... God really wanted me to hear it. I don't remember who was speaking... but I remember the gist of what he said and a few lines stuck out to me:
Advance. Engage the enemy.
These are action words. They're not just suggestions to "proceed with caution". To advance and to engage implies being on the offensive... being first to make a move... no fear.
OK. This might be kinda weird but... I'm going to relate this to... my battle with zits... and also to sanctification.
I've had pretty decent skin my whole life. I used to wonder why people had to wear makeup. Um... now I know. I think I've had a few zits here and there... they got a lot better when I was in Houston since I was sleeping a whole lot... and it was OK once I came back to California... but once I started working... I started breaking out like no other. These zits were coming with a vengeance and before one would leave, another one would come. I could not keep up. I was able to manage them fairly adequately... and then somehow after my birthday this past year... omg. They came back with a vengeance again. It was painful, hideous mountains of bright red blemishes. I was so self-conscious. I used to use makeup for like... special occasions... but it got to the point where I was too self-conscious to leave the house without it... and I actually went out and bought concealer because my foundation wasn't enough. This is new to me. Tiff, in her late 20's, was forced to fight a battle with acne. Heartbreaking.
Maybe my life is so "interesting" because I'm so dramatic about these little things that happen to me. Anyway... so my skin issues have become more of a priority to me lately. Things were just about getting hopeless... when God provided me with an awesome friend to help me battle my acne. She is a skin expert. An aesthetician. What an answer to prayer. She analyzed my skin and put me on a regimen. This was more detailed than any other skin care plan I've ever been on. There are steps. There's timing. There's this before that. There's fine tuning and adjustments that need to be made. And it takes a lot of time. A lot more than I used to spend on my skin. If I had to describe what we did together... it was definitely advancing or engaging this enemy... a very active method of tackling this problem from multiple angles, in different directions... and then waiting to see how my skin responds.
I have this machine now that uses sonic vibrations to help cleanse the impurities in my skin. I somehow feel like it takes a long time to use this machine... so I have "time" to think while I'm moving this brush in circular motions all over my face. A few other lines that I remember from the sermon I've heard twice... was that the answer to spiritual laziness is discipline. I definitely think that it takes discipline to keep to this skincare regimen. It takes faithfulness. It takes preparation and planning... and then you just gotta suck it up and do it.
It took a while to start seeing results. In fact, when it comes to skin stuff... sometimes it gets uglier before it gets better. But once it gets better... it gets a lot better.
I think it's the same for sanctification as well. If I asked God at the beginning of Lent... to get rid of the idols that threaten His supremacy over my life... then I should not be surprised that it got really ugly as He was revealing stuff to me. Stuff that I had maybe covered up with concealer... stuff that I was hiding under my bangs... dings and dents that I never stopped to inspect but once I started... all those things came to the surface and it was pretty darn ugly. I've gotten more angry and frustrated in the past two months than I have in a VERY long time. I've done things and said things out of spitefulness that make me ashamed to be me. But what's done is done, what's said is said. There is definitely a lot of wisdom in being quick to listen and slow to speak. It's been rough. The battle has been brutal... but it's looking like things are taking a turn for the better. I'm looking fwd to when my joyful heart makes a cheerful face and good medicine for others... and looking to leave behind the broken spirit that dries up bones and is unbearable to those around me.
If I had to whittle down my activities to just one thing... it would be to pursue God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength. It is just one thing... and yet it is so weighty that it consumes the whole of me. And what does it look like in my life? It manifests in a lot of ways. But most of all... I think it requires that I take everything I've got... my 2 mites... my sling and a few rocks... and I take a step out in faith to engage the enemy that threatens the armies of the Living God. Even if I buy fancy products or use a sonic brush cleaner thing... the power behind healing my zits still comes from God. The power isn't so much in the mites, or the sling or the rocks... but it is how mightily the tiny things can be used when I step out in faith to discipline myself to do it. I think I'm mixing all my metaphors. This is definitely NOT the most clear post ever. And I'm actually getting kinda tired... so I think I'll stop now.
I don't even know what to name this post. It's all over the place. Maybe I should have separately talked about sacrifice and then about sanctification. OK. Maybe next time.
<3,
Tiff
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