My Life

I am officially spent. Why? Because there is something called helpfulness that actually makes your life easier. And then there is meddling, introducing obstacles that make your previously straight path into a winding series of roadblocks and uphill climbs. The line between the two is not fuzzy or fine. It is distinct and bold. And yet there are some who consciously decide to make the effort and expend the energy to pole vault over that moat. How many times must I hear that I can't do this but I have to do that?? I now know what a teenager feels like, only I am supposed to have more sense as a so called grown up. And as an adult, I actually have the financial independence to defy the neysayers and just get off the darn road.

Please, just let me get some rest.

Jump

At my age, it's arguable that I might be approaching the "can't teach an old dog new tricks" phase of life. Say it isn't so! Although work and routine have ruled my life of late, I still secretly yearn for adventure - the kind where a little ounce of fear fuels a wave of adrenaline that makes me wow out loud no matter how hard I try to suppress it.

Can't say this fits the bill, but this past weekend, I was led to rediscover the age old Farmers' Market, where I was re-introduced to local hands-to-the-earth toilers hawking their produce. What fun it was to roam the short street checking out greens I had never cooked, encountering a few I had never seen before. The aroma of strawberries mindlessly guided me to competing stalls where the price of a flat went down with each tick towards the 1 o'clock closing time. I was wisely counseled to go where the Chinese people were, and sure enough, that's where the deals were hiding. Sugar snap peas for 80 cents a pound. Clementines for a buck a pound. Leafy greens for 50 cents a bunch. Regularity, here I come!

My boss once told me a story of a sailing trip he captained. Managing a quality department of all women, it was not a surprise to him that not one of his quality cohorts had any sailing experience, so he was figuratively on his own. But the one thing he couldn't do alone was tow the line in when they docked. He asked a particular person to do the job, which entailed jumping off the boat onto the dock, grabbing the dockline and pulling the boat safely in. She was excited to be commissioned to take on this very important task, eager to be of service instead of simply going along for the ride. As they arrived at the dock, she situated herself to take her leap, but then made the mistake of stealing a quick look down from the edge of the boat and declared, "I'm not doing that!", climbed back into the boat and sat down.

Perhaps a trip to the farmers' market falls into the mundane weekend activity category, but it reminded me that there is still life to be lived and little presents yet to be opened. At this point in my life, I don't want to get back into the boat and just sit and watch.

Excuse me, but I have some beets to roast and some swiss chard to saute.

Because I Love You

According to Dictionary.com, "Peruse has long meant 'to read thoroughly' and is often used loosely when one could use the word read instead, as in 'The librarians checked to see which titles had been perused in the last month and which been left untouched.' Seventy percent of the Usage Panel rejected this example in our 1999 survey. Sometimes people use it to mean 'to glance over, skim,' as in 'I only had a moment to peruse the manual quickly', but this usage is widely considered an error. In a 1988 survey, 66 percent of the Panel found it unacceptable, and in 1999, 58 percent still rejected it."

So if they lied to us about this, what about the rest of it? Was it all a sham?? It appears that I am experiencing a bit of adolescent trauma a bit late in life. This trauma extended into my work arena as well, the only place, mind you, where I am paid to play the role of an adult. Yet again, the joke was on me. Yes, I fell for it; I was the fool. I freely admit that I was taken to the cleaners. How many more trite adages do I need to throw out there before the beatings cease?? Earlier last year, there was a breach of trust that I couldn't get myself to believe. I kept asking myself how could this be? I rather dislike getting angry, because I simply hate the feeling of anger. And so I tend towards becoming disappointed and sad. But when there is outright lying in what is supposed to be a professional environment, sometimes anger is one of the more effective ways of communicating disapproval. So the iron fist had to come down during what my coworkers affectionately call "The Crackdown". But I must say that I held back tears while threatening to fire the next smug character who dared dry lab data again.

A few months ago I began that post having responded to dishonesty in my factories with unbelief, interlaced with a bit of anger. Outside of work, I have also felt betrayal in my life that put me past the point of merely holding back the flood. In those times, I found myself beseeching God to explain why He would allow such grievous trials to afflict me. Why? Why God? But recently, I was admonished to recall the story of Job. And so my heart is tenderly pulled into a compassionate sympathy for my brother of old, because of the pain he agonized. But I'm reminded not just of the man, but also of the strength and stalwartness of his faith which allowed him to be tested. My head then skirts the negative notions of punishment and malady and for a moment, embraces the comfort of being loved by God. Maybe God loves me so much, He was sure my faith in Him and Spirit filled heart could endure the dolor (neat word, huh?). Maybe He knew I've grown enough to withstand the temptation to throw angry darts upwards at heaven in blame of my plight.

Or maybe not.

I just know that God loves me. And there isn't enough love in my heart to express how grateful I am for that unconditional affection.