Even when you have to fly away for a time,
I am thankful that I know where you are.
I am not searching.
You are right behind the wing.
Knowing Where You Are
In Five Minutes
At 5 minutes to 5, I was near tears. M. and K. wrapped up rehearsal with the string quartet and I turned to L. saying, “I really don’t know if I can make it through tonight. One more song about love and I’m going to lose it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a big subject. Touchy.”
I wanted someone to hold my hand. Where were you?
L. scrunched her face as we sat in the front row of the sanctuary. “I do not feel cute in my clothes. I never feel good about what I’m wearing.”
“Me neither. But you look cute. You always look so nice. I got this shirt I’m wearing at TJ Maxx yesterday for 10 bucks; it’s not breathable.”
“Are you hot?”
“No. I just feel like I stink.” I hoped the drummer didn’t just hear that. He was sitting a few seats down.
“Don’t worry. I don’t smell anything. I need a haircut.”
“Oh my. So do I. I was literally just thinking that in the bathroom. And earlier, my sister told me to wear my hair down. She said it was looking good, but I can hardly stand it. My ends are all torn up.”
“You look good. We always try so hard, don’t we?”
“What a funny day.”
L. looked back and agreed. “Have fun singing tonight, okay?”
“Thanks.”
At 5 pm, I was ready. My crisis was averted and I did not cry whilst leading worship and not holding your hand. We will see what tomorrow brings, but I hope to be engulfed in the truth that I have an even bigger hand holding my entire being.
I’ve Earned My Badge and I Wear It Proudly
Sitting in a rainy co-worker smoke break at the mall entrance today, I surprised myself. It wasn’t that I was doing anything so spectacular or beautiful or stunning. It wasn’t even that I was doing anything stupid or embarrassing or cheap. No, I was proudly displaying my age badge.
We were having a conversation about some mid-twenty’s troubles (boys, weird health issues, retail stress) and I chimed in saying, “When I was twenty-four…” One of the girls chirped, “Oh, so long ago” to which I proudly replied, “I’m twenty-nine.” And my eyes sternly said the rest. She was quiet and listened to my yes, oh so wisened wisdom.
The rest of the meaning in my eyes was that five years really does make a difference. Things smooth out with the guys, you get a hold of your health (if you haven’t already; I hadn’t at 24), and you stop stressing about how your manager doesn’t know what she’s doing. You go with the flow.
Unlike P.H. who consistently says, “I’m thirty now. It’s time to start growing up.” I believe the time to start growing up is generally eighteen and you should be finished by the time you’re thirty, at the latest. Most girls I know in their mid-twenties have real jobs and careers ahead of them, but then something dramatic happens and they really solidify their grown-up selves.
Big events that have impacted girls I’ve known ages 23-25: marriage, first real-man boyfriend, a significant break up, terrible health issues like inexplicable daily vomiting for a year, a promotion, resigning for the first time from a stressful job, graduate school begins, graduate school ends, moving back with parents, moving out of parents’ house (again), moving to an unknown city for a guy, first no-roommate apartment, and transcontinental single living…In fact, these things have happened to multiple girls I’ve known.
So when I’m twenty-nine and chatting with a group of colorful, stressed out, mid-twenty’s girls, I am proud to be able to tell them to hang in there. Keep your head up and your heart soft. Make the changes now. Now is the time; this is the age for troubling troubles so go ahead and deal with it. You’re growing in ways you’ve never expected.
What surprised me most today about myself was the ease with which I shared my age. I’ve known these girls for over a year and I never told them my age (expect for the one who is twenty-eight, so she doesn’t count). But somehow today, I was okay with it. In fact, I almost said, “I’m thirty.”
(Maybe I should say that anyway, just to practice.)
Candid
I am not a naturally light and candid person, but I am quite sincere. When asked, I always try to give my most honest and heartfelt answer appropriate to the audience. Sometimes this leaves me talking for entirely too long as I try to cover all the minute nuances of my thoughts on the subject. In reality, I am often attempting to write an essay as I respond. While this makes me good at interviewing, it does not help me play around in a conversation. I do apologize if you have ever been on the receiving end of one of these winding, oral compositions–especially one that doesn’t make sense or hold it’s weight in the end.
Tonight was girls’ night. A bunch of us pooled down to a trendy French restaurant in St. Paul, ordered drinks and fancy food and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves in our pretty dresses and high heeled shoes.
These are some topics I wish I had not waxed on about:
- Not fully understanding what it means to be an aunt.
- Meeting guys at work.
- How eharmony really works.
- Wanting to get out of my own head.
On the other hand, who else would say all these things on my heart to?
I am sure the girls understand.
Confession #1: Pie Jesu
Sometimes I catch myself thinking, “GoodNIGHT! My husband is going to be so amazing! I mean, check out the girl he’s getting. He’s got to be amazing if he’s gonna get THIS. I am all kinds of awesome, so it would make sense that he would be, too. We are going to be a force of cool to be reckoned with.”
On Friday, I thought this when I turned up the volume on the radio to better hear Sarah Brightman perform Pie Jesu while I washed the dishes. This is the song, of course, Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote for his father with Brightman in mind, who at the time was his wife–but I’m sure you already knew that. Yes, I turned up the public radio station while I was washing dishes and thought, “Gosh, I’m cool. My husband is going to be amazing.”
I can’t be certain why these two specific thought-vents occurred at the same time, but they did. It happens every once in a while and I’m okay with that.
In other confessions, my next thought was, “If I die in the next five years, I know just who will be performing this at my funeral.” I suppose it’s true that my mind is always a step ahead.
Here’s Ms. Brightman, Connar Burrows, and Mr. Webber:
To do with you:
There are so many things still to do with you.
Paris, France
Calm Ocean Day: In Vision
Last summer, I wrote a poem. Last fall, I posted it here. This winter, a new friend surprised me with his visualization of it. Here it is. Thanks, M.
Superhero Gear
Last weekend we hosted a Pie, Piano, Poetry, and Photography Party because we like all those things. (So why not?) J. joined us, proving that even middle schoolers are artists and like to share their work. These are a few examples of J’s creativity. He has fashioned at least two superheros; I’m sure more are hiding their identities in his sketch pad. Here are his superheros are in all their glory. The green one has lightening powers and the red one has lava powers. Yes, lava powers. Don’t get in his way.
The “Merry Christmas” cloth is J’s first attempt at sewing, much better than my first and last attempts at sewing. J. also shared a wallet with us that he had made out of an old computer keyboard circuit board. He confessed to waking up around 5 am with an unquenchable desire to attempt the wallet. He did all his own research online to determine what he needed and how to make it work. I take that back, I don’t think J. is even in Middle School yet.
Minds, they do great and inspiring things. What will yours share today?
She loves that art.
K. loved the tincture she had made. The rest of us didn’t know what it was. Then she explained it and we loved it, too. K’s tincture is beautiful art.
Skype Me, Thailand
After a most gorgeous conversation via Skype with my dear friend in Thailand, I feel energized, encouraged, lifted up to high heaven, and just so much love. And so, I’m going to bed without a love song video for today and I’m okay with that. I will live in this moment and enjoy the rest that comes from of years and miles of friendship. Feel free to check out Victoria’s work with at-risk children in Thailand via this webiste: www.victoria.missionsplace.com. I know you will be encouraged as well.
May love be in your eyes, your heart, your hands, and your words, right now, in this moment.
Naphtalia 