A Life Lesson in the Little Things

"Are you kidding me??" I screamed aloud, having come back from a very short trip to the bathroom to discover one of my kittens having a boxing match with my keyboard. And, of course, the paragraphs I had just been working on were deleted, and a lot of gibberish had taken the place of my attempt at creativity. As a former English Major, I hold myself at fault for not having saved my work before leaving the computer unattended. But still...

It's amazing the things that come out of your mouth when you've had a typical Monday. I find myself yelling a lot these days. Things like: "What were you thinking?" and "Can't I just have ten minutes to myself when I get home??" and "Are you kidding me?" ...as if cats are quite skilled in the art of comic mockery. There are times when I am convinced that they have nothing better to do than piss me off. Just for the heck of it.

So why, you ask, do I even have cats? That is a very good question. I think they're here to teach me something. I don't want to be one of those annoying Pollyanna-type people that tries to make a lesson out of everything. But in this case, I really think it's legit.

See, the thing is, I wasn't ready for cats. I know that by now. I've been wanting a cat for a long time, now that I'm out making it on my own, but I hadn't purchased one yet because I didn't feel like I was quite ready. But the problem is, I have this soft spot in my heart for the abandoned, and they were about to lose their home... I guess I took them in as a kind of foster care service, to try to find them a good place to live. But of course I got attached, because I always get attached. And now I have no idea what I'm doing. Which just means I come home to whatever new mess they've made and get angry at creatures that have no idea why I'm upset. And that's not a good situation for anyone.

Just a few weeks ago, a guy I sit next to at work told me this very thing; that I wasn't ready for cats, and I got very upset with him. Did he really think I'm so incompetent a human being that I can't care for a couple of kittens until I find homes for them? I was quite insulted. But now I'm starting to see the wisdom behind his words. I don't think he meant to be offensive. It's just that I've had a rough couple of years, and things are finally starting to get better, and I really think this season of my life is about learning to take care of me. I wonder if having kittens is going to prevent that at all?

My problem is I put my whole heart into everything I do. It's a blessing and a curse, all wrapped up in one package. I stress out at work if I think I haven't paid a claim correctly. I want to get it right and do my job to the best of my ability. I want to be there for all my friends, right when they need me. I've found it difficult to be creative lately, because I just want things to be perfect. And Lord help me when I get into a relationship, because I give it everything I've got, whether or not it's worthy of everything I've got. I guess if I can't do something wholeheartedly, I find it hard to want to do it at all. And it's exhausting, let me tell you!

It's funny... because what I just said makes me sound a little perfectionistic. And I wouldn't really consider myself to be a perfectionist. If you look around at my messy apartment, or know anything about my messy life, you would think the same. But when it comes to matters of the heart, it's all or nothing for me.

If nothing else, I'm learning a lot from my crazy cats. I guess it's hard to have too much regret in life if you choose to learn from your mistakes and disappointments. I haven't decided yet if taking them in was really a mistake, or if this just means I need to let them go and admit that I'm just not ready to be taking care of anyone but me right now, or if I need to make room in my life for them and choose to give them what they need whether or not it's what I need...

I suppose there are very few people who would put this much thought into the decision. :) But I've committed to discovering the secret of living a full life, and this is just another attempt at it... even though it's just taking care of a couple of cats, I want to do this well. And if I can't do it, I want to find someone who can.

Just for the record, they're both acting crazy right now, running around my tiny apartment like maniacs, attacking each other, my couch, or my feet, whatever they happen upon first. In a minute or two, they will be attempting to climb onto my keyboard and my lap, purring deeply and ready to settle down for the night, simply wanting the affection I am anxious to give. It's these times when I think giving them up will be impossible. But time will tell. I want to learn all I can while they're here with me. Maybe they're supposed to help me appreciate the silence when they're gone...

I thought I would be up for hours tonight, because I drank an iced coffee just a little while ago, but a nice warm bed is starting to sound pretty awesome right about now. So I think I'm going to say goodnight for now... I'll write again soon.

A Dragon's Job

Donald Miller says that having a Dad is like owning a dragon. To take something so great and powerful and strong, and to know that it is truly yours, that it is there to protect and defend you... who wouldn't want that? It would be amazing.

I never got a chance to own a dragon. But I always wanted one.

Then there are all the fairy tales, that paint a picture of the horrible, cruel dragon guarding the princess in some lofty tower while she awaits her brave knight to come rescue her. I know girls who still operate under this type of system with their fathers. She's "under his authority" until her husband decides to show up, and then they pass her off like some antique heirloom. Nice.

I'm hoping there is a third category out there. My knight must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. My dragon never cared enough to guard me from anything. In fact, if anything, he took it upon himself to cause me a lot of grief and heartache that I am still attempting to mend. The sad thing is, these days it is far from uncommon. My struggle to survive simply confirms the statistics.

I am, at least, grateful for our ability to adapt. I am trying, anyway.

So it is Father's Day. And this holiday is weird for me. It cuts much deeper than, say, Valentine's Day. And I guess that's because I can see somewhere in my future having some semblance of a Valentine. But I will never, ever get to have a Dad.

Perhaps I am not being fair, though. I have had a few father/daughter relationships with men who took me into their families simply because they cared that much about my broken heart. I called one of my "adopted Dads" yesterday, in fact, because he has been more of a father to me than mine ever was. And there is still another that I need to call...

But I'm thinking of calling my biological dad, too. I know. I must be crazy. I have no expectations. He could do or say anything. Honestly, I could say anything as well. I've got a lot of pent up anger I've never taken out on anyone. Lord help him if he sets off that minefield!

But I've got one of those scenarios playing out in my head where, in the movies at least, there is distance between the father/daughter, and then one day before she knows it he's dead and she's standing there at his grave wondering why she never picked up a phone and called him. If my father died, would I regret never having said something to him? This question has been bugging me lately.

The problem is, my life was not scripted by Hallmark, and the things I will probably end up saying are not the lovey-dovey, just-in-case-you-die sorts of things. But what I will say, I do not know. I could really freak him out by telling him he was supposed to be a dragon, and didn't fulfill a dragon's job in my life! :)

But life is just like that, because there was a garden and there was a forbidden fruit, and there was a decision, a fall, and a sinful world followed. We all have our set of obstacles to overcome, decisions to make, and battles to fight. This one happens to be mine. I never had a protector as a child, and I will probably have a hard time letting a man assume that role in my future. I want it, for sure, but I don't know if I'll let it happen. I'm pretty awkward when it comes to dating. I hope the next guy is pretty brave...

I guess I'll post an update if I get up the courage to call him. Say a prayer for me, if you're the praying type. And Happy Father's Day, to all you who choose to use your power for good...

A Day in the Life

Another slow Saturday morning, and now I've come to the part of the day where I have to figure out what I'm doing for the rest of the day. No one has called with any invitations yet. Sometimes I find that situation depressing, but right now I am glad to have time to get my thoughts in order, before greeting any other humans.

Oh yeah, I have cats now. And internet. In fact, there will probably be much greater consistency in my writing from this day forward. So that's a good thing. My cats are crazy though. Much more so than I ever thought possible. I'm not entirely convinced that I am ready to be taking care of anyone but myself right now. So whether or not I'm keeping them is still up for debate. I change my mind every day...

So much has happened lately, and I'm certain not all of it gets to be written out for the world to see. Just take my word for it that I have grown up a lot since I last wrote. I learned some very difficult and valuable life lessons recently. God allowed some stuff to happen, because I was being stubborn, and then I paid for it, because we have to live out the consequences of our decisions, and now I'm on the road to recovery. And that's that. I'm glad it's over and done. And maybe next time, I will be a little more cautious about jumping into something with my whole heart like that.

But really, that's the only way I know to live. I don't know if I was designed that way or not. But it's the way I am, and I haven't figured out how to prevent it from happening yet. Maybe I really am supposed to throw my whole heart at something, but I just haven't found the proper context for it. I've always felt like I would be great for an orphanage or a ministry that needed truly committed people. I tend to invest everything I've got into relationships that are headed nowhere, and that's not what God wanted to do with me, I'm sure. But I've yet to figure out what God wants, so I continue to be a little bit lost.

I guess this post is about nothing in particular. I don't feel very inspired at the moment, to say anything of utmost importance. It's just another Day in the Life of Jo. I guess we all need some days to just chill.

I think I'm going to do some shopping and errands, and just try to take this day as it comes.

Great Expectations

Awaking with gentle sunshine on my face, and without that sense of morning exhaustion that I am so used to these days; I feel good about today. I need a big, fat cup of coffee in a minute. And I think one of my friends wanted to work out this morning. But I need to take a moment, while I have a moment, and enjoy the sunshine and the feeling that I finally rested enough to enjoy the day and live it well.

I think life is just about to get better... I can feel it right now, in my half-conscious state, and underneath all my sleepiness I am excited about the change. I have been coming dangerously close to settling in to mediocre. But God and I have a deal about that... I've promised to get my lazy butt up and keep moving whenever I notice I may be settling for less, and He says He's got something better for me if I just don't give up. I know we can't really make deals with God that way, because you can't earn anything on your own strength, but I'm telling you, this one works! Its like tithe, Man. Miracles happen.

I even got annoyed last week, when I was just reading random verses in the Bible and I came across the one that says: "Do not grow weary in doing good, for in due time you will reap..." But I AM weary!! I cried, I can't help it!!! I have grow quite weary, actually. That is a perfect description of how I have felt of late. But God, more than anyone, knows that I am human and knows my limits and my potential and knows (Lord, help me in my unbelief) what He is doing. Right? Because if that isn't true, then I'm wasting my time with another "god" who isn't really God, and I don't want to go back there.

I want, very much, to move forward in life. And yet, in "growing up," I am so afraid of losing that childlike faith in me. I have seen it fade as I move towards accepting the "real world," and while it is true that I am growing up and I want to be responsible, does that mean that I have to lose my heart in the process? Isn't that what's killing the writer in me? Because, after all, this isn't exactly quality literature, folks. It's okay... I know already. :) I'm just doing the only thing I know to do, and that's to keep writing no matter what...

But how long has it been since I really, honestly believed? How long since I thought I saw a gnome in the grass or "knew" there was pirate treasure buried in the sand beneath my toes? Am I growing cynical? Calloused? I feel torn between two worlds and I can't keep my foot inside both of them. I don't know how. So do I have to just pick one? But I can't bear to lose the one I'll have to lose if I choose "reality." I am just not convinced that that's what's really real...

Sometimes I sort through my own thoughts by writing them down, and that's what this has turned into. So I apologize, to anyone who doesn't know me, or doesn't know me well. But I have been given this imagination that has made the traditional ideas of growing up very difficult for me. I have no problem with taking care of myself and paying my own bills and voting and doing my taxes. For someone as scatterbrained as I can be sometimes, I think I have done quite well with all of that in the past few years of making it on my own. But there's the other side of me... the one, I guess, that is supposed to be a writer, the creative side that I don't show to everyone, because let's face it, sometimes people don't handle it well.

I am out of control with my commas today. Wow.

Anyway... I am still searching for myself, I think. I didn't realize it until just now. I thought I had a pretty good grasp of who I am, but its not true quite yet. I know who I am in the real world, and I know who I am when I lose myself in imagination and creativity, but I have yet to merge the two successfully. Perhaps I am afraid of the clash of those two worlds. Or is it just the loss of acceptance that I fear?

Here's a thought. Maybe God has a plan. Maybe he even made me and loves me and therefore wants me to be successful, so he knows exactly what I need to do. Maybe he wanted a Jo in the world, after all, and I wasn't really a mistake, as I have so often despaired to believe.

But how do I get others to see it, too? How do you inspire a lost world to keep believing? So many have sold out, and given up, and forgotten who they were, or don't even know who they could be. And my heart bleeds for them. But, silly me, God would have a plan for them, too, now wouldn't he?

So I am going to work on the merging of the two worlds inside me, and trust that God knows, and God does. Maybe that's why I awoke to sunshine, and the feeling that life was about to get better.

I guess, if ever the Real and Creative worlds were to meet, it would make sense that they would be inside a very Real and Creative God...

Rainy Day Blues

I won't deny it, I finally let the Melancholy get to me this week.

We lost our sunshine and warmth to the rain these past few days, and I've spent several evenings in a row alone now, and it finally just got inside me. Turns out drinking alcohol and watching even the most hilarious videos on YouTube isn't enough to fill the gap of human companionship. I guess I'm just plain, good old-fashioned lonely. And I don't mind admitting it anymore.

I realized it just a few hours ago, in the Wal-mart checkout aisle, when I found myself trying to make conversation with the girl at the counter. Not that there's anything wrong with talking to retail workers. I was in her shoes not so very long ago, and I always appreciated the people who treated me like a human being. But I realized I was talking to her because I was just desperate for a conversation. About anything. I guess that's what I get for taking an office job in a sea of cubicles where we're not supposed to speak to each other...

Sometimes I wonder if I'm going crazy. Seriously. My life really isn't that bad. So why is it my life is this bad? I was just reading my posts from just a few months ago, and I'm really doing well, considering. So maybe I'm just being dramatic. But I don't feel like I'm being dramatic. I just feel like I can't get my life together. I need someone's help. I think I'm supposed to say I need God's help. And maybe I do. But I don't know that I need God's help as much as I need other people. Is that sacrilegious or just ignorant? It is not my intention to be either.

Like right now. I need a backrub, and a good, long hug, and maybe even a free dinner. I need a real conversation, and maybe some laughter, and a good strong cup of coffee, and a new novel. And I need someone to help me clean my apartment, because I'm starting to believe it will never, ever, ever get done if I'm left to my own devices. And I'm depressed about it. I've been fighting this battle for a long, long time... it is never an easy demon to face.

My internet connection is lousy. It keeps cutting in and out and threatening to lose my unsaved work. I don't think losing this post would be such a loss. But I guess it's good to show the bad days along with the good. I am trying to learn to be real on paper, after all.

But I don't want to waste my words whining. There are definitely good things going on in my life. I just spent an atrocious amount of money on groceries, and unless my car breaks down or I have some sort of physical calamity, I'll never really notice a difference, because I finally have a good enough job that I can do that!

I really need time travel right now. I want to go back to my old apartment and find that scared little girl I was and give her a hug and tell her it will all be okay. Maybe six months from now I'll be reading this post and think the same thing all over again. Maybe I'll have some fantastic boyfriend by then, and a perfect relationship with Jesus, and my apartment, of course, will be spotless! :) Here's hoping.

But I know, from much experience, that rainy days pass.

It is nearly Friday. Just a few hours' sleep away from the last work day of the week. And then I get to go see Prince Caspian with my friends, and then whatever I find to do on Saturday, hopefully another convicting and encouraging Sunday, and then back to earning a living. I wonder how long I will do this? Will there ever be more to life again, or am I doomed to "independence" and coping with the daily grind?

A few weeks ago, I had a drink with a guy from work who told me I wasn't the kind of person who should be sitting in a cubicle figuring out people's medical benefits. He said I should join the Peace Corps and do my part to make the world a better place, or find some other way of using this deep heart in me. His words, not mine. I have been haunted by those words ever since... and I don't know what to do.

I have always wanted to leave this life behind and go somewhere and do something that everyone will think is crazy. It's just in me, and I'm not sure I'll ever silence that voice, even if I try. But then there's that part of me that has finally, finally found a place to settle, to rest for just a little while. And I waited so long for some rest, and a place that felt like home...

So there's the gypsy in me that will always want to travel and seek the new, and there's also the tired young woman who's way too young to feel this damn tired! Somehow I harbor both in my soul. And I really believe I need to rest for now, and maybe put down roots and see what happens.

Either way it is a risk. They are just different types. I am glad to know that I don't fear risk as much as I used to. Perhaps I am growing up a bit after all. I hope God hasn't given up on me yet. I'm pretty sure He doesn't do that, though, or we'd all be in trouble...

Just this week, one of my dear friends gave me a verse (from Psalm 103) that says: "The Lord is compassionate and merciful, slow to anger, and filled with unfailing love."

I still can't wrap my brain around it. What would it be like to be "filled with unfailing love," I wonder, because all the "love" I've ever been given has failed me at some point. I suppose we are all messes and failures in some way... and that's why we need Perfect Love. God's love. Compassionate, merciful, not easily angered... unfailing.

Even on gloomy, melancholy, rainy days. That is a very comforting thought.

Nocturnal Ramblings

I haven't written in a very long time, and I'm tired of staring at that same old post. So I'm going to do something about it! I suppose sleepy rambling is better than old news, right? I'll feel better about it, anyway.

So my life's been interesting lately. All sorts of things have been happening that I don't feel at liberty to post about just yet. I know, the mystery is killing you, right? :) All I'm saying is, I think God's doing some stuff. And if it's not God, man, am I gonna be in trouble!! But that's faith for you. Wow...

I just finished watching one of my favorite movies, Stranger Than Fiction, and I was reminded of how much I love writing. Everything from the act of writing, to the editing process, to reading what others have written (unless it's written poorly); I just love it! What exactly does that mean, though? Why am I not writing a novel by now? Am I just lazy, or am I supposed to trust my senses right now, when they tell me to hold off for a little while longer?

Who knows?

But I can't escape it. Writing is in me. There's nothing I can do. Like right now... I should either be cleaning up for the friend that's coming over to watch a movie tomorrow, or I should be going to bed, because I'm very, very tired. But neither of those things are happening, because the thought of a blank page came to me and I had a need to fill it up. Hopefully with quality literature, in good time, but for now it's just my general thoughts before I give up trying to motivate myself to clean up, and go ahead and fall asleep. Was that a run-on sentence? I'm pretty sure that was a run-on sentence.

Probably tomorrow, when I read this, I will be disappointed in my lack of creativity and meaningful words. Right now it feels cathartic, and possibly even brilliant. Why is it the next day always reveals your words to be less than inspired? It amazes me.

Here's hoping tomorrow reveals brilliance! :)

A Beauty So Deep

Written: Saturday, April 19...

I love Saturday mornings best. And yesterday I just bought some new coffee beans that I've never tried before, so I'm pretty excited about brewing a pot of coffee here in a minute. I think Saturday mornings are kinda like my “Sabbath” even though I still go to church almost every Sunday. Saturday mornings are when I get to think through the week and hopefully figure out how to do the next one better.

But things have been getting better already. And the sun comes out nearly every day now, so the world has not been such a gloomy place. So whatever part of me that seems to go to sleep during the winter, like so many hibernating animals, must have just stirred and arisen with sleepy eyes and messy hair. I am not at my best yet. Give me time to wake up...

I should probably work out this morning. I haven't done as much of that lately. At least I got out to walk with Jennifer last week. It's just so hard to schedule that into an already busy schedule. Whoever thought I'd be busy like this? With friends, and a good job, and a place to myself? Last year at this time... I would have been struggling at Old Navy... and I think I would have been still searching for a place to live because Steph had moved out and I was still at the Meth apartment, paying $400 a month on an Old Navy salary. Boy, was that fun. But at least that place had a view and no roaches...

Wow. If you look at it that way, I've come a long way since then.

And I've been pretty hard on myself over the last couple of weeks. So... it's Saturday morning, and it's time to take a deep breath, let the weeks go, and start over...

They say that heaven is beyond our wildest dreams... and really, this Earth is still beyond my wildest dreams, and I've only been a few places around this old globe so far. So, I can trust that God's got something else up his sleeve that's waiting for us in the end. But... I still haven't done all the things I wanted to do here, and there's no way I could do it all in just a lifetime. And there is a sadness in that realization for me.

I guess that's what makes heaven so scary. I've had 25 years to explore this place, but heaven I know nothing about. I can make a few assumptions, like it won't be bound by time like we are, and there probably won't be night and day, because I think the Bible says heaven is always full of light. I wonder if I will miss the evening, though? The setting of the sun, or the misty stillness of morning? I wonder if I will still get to discover little creatures, if there will be texture, if there will be anything physical at all?

Part of me doesn't want to go. I know I complain a lot about this place, and I often mourn how sin has wrecked everything, how I had a lousy dad and how I don't have a boyfriend. But really... I mean, will there be coffee in heaven? And cats? And fuzzy socks? Fun earrings? If you never have “a bad day” will you appreciate people being nice to you or giving you a hug? Will there be a Grand Canyon or the ancient green hills of Great Britain? Will there be literature there? Is story really as timeless as we hope it to be?

I guess it all comes down to trusting that God knows what He's doing. I guess that's what faith really is, simply put. Not only that He knows what He's doing, but for some of us with weaker faith, simply that he is, in fact, doing something... I am still trying to grasp that one.

Honestly, though, I didn't get to see the Earth before the ravaging hands of sin had their way with it. And it is still saturated in beauty, though lying in ruins. So to see a place untouched by sin, to walk a pure and holy ground, to dance without self-consciousness, to laugh without fear of crying... I would like to go to that place. I would take a risk on God knowing what He's doing, in order to witness a beauty so deep as Heaven.

I suppose Heaven might be my reward for keeping my heart alive and not giving in to the calluses of cynicism and selfishness. Perhaps when we get there, after breathing our last sigh on Earth and shedding our mortal skins, our lifetimes here will just feel like a long, hard day that's finally over. I used to fear that I would forget this place, but maybe Heaven will be so beautiful and good that I will not think of this anymore by my own free will.

But for now... I must rely on hot showers, and good TV shows, and the persistence of the ocean's waves reaching out to shore, and good talks with good friends, to be my heaven. For now, I have to learn to trust that God is doing... something. And my time isn't finished here yet... so I should not give in to despair.

That is all I know to be right now.