Woman Who Run With the Wolves

Just a tid-bit from this fantastic book for now, the story of The Four Rabbinim...

"One Night four rabbinim were visited by an angel who awakened them and carried them to the Seventh Vault of the Seventh Heaven. There they beheld the sacred Wheel of Ezekiel. Somewhere in the descent from Pardes, Paradise, to Earth, one Rabbi, having seen such splendor, lost his mind and wandered frothing and foaming until the end of his days. The second Rabbi was extremely cynical: "Oh I just dreamed Ezekiel's Wheel, that was all. Nothing really happened." The third Rabbi carried on and on about what he had seen, for he was totally obsessed. He lectured and would not stop with how it was all constructed and what it all meant... and in this way he went astray and betrayed his faith. The fourth Rabbi, who was a poet, took a paper in hand and a reed and sat near the window writing song after song praising the evening dove, his daughter in her cradle, and all the stars in the sky. And he lived his life better than before."

Lovely lessons don't you think?

(Shout out to Ecogrrl who introduced us to this book...)

Coalescence

Today has seemed to be a time for everything to start to gel. The kids are home more, they've finished up Pioneer Trek, Angie finished up Girls Camp... Sione is apparently finished with Football Camp (I was never quite sure if that was what Sam had him doing or not)... so finally, they have been home the past few days and I love it! It is such an odd feeling to putter around my home with just Roxie for company, she gets bored, I get tired because she wants me to entertain her without the other kids here for entertainment...

I've finally figured out a laundry soap alternative which involves a combination of Dr. Bronners Sal Suds, Washing Soda, Soap nuts and the essential oils of Lavender and Bergamont. I also use white vinegar as a fabric softener and baking soda (sparingly since I've heard that it can fade colors), however baking soda is an excellent deodorant so I want to continue to include it in my routine. One other laundry essential is hydrogen peroxide which you can use to clean blood stains and if you have a stain that you notice after drying your clothes you can soak it in hydrogen peroxide, add a bit of Sal Suds and let it soak, then run it through the wash again. I still need to look into bulk options for the Washing Soda, and essential oils.

I found one site that offers bulk essential oils here.

A curious site that offers soaps from yesteryear here. This site offers bulk soap goods, including borax, soap ash (which I believe to be the washing soda I'm looking for) as well as different scents, oils, powders, and lotion bases (and lotions). Should be interesting to look into.

Plus a few curiosities such as this site, which offers aroma therapy diffusers and this site which I love because they sell wooden straws! :D

Which reminds me of the fun things my friend Liz sells at her Etsy shop, Owl Post Magic, from which she sells her lovely "Harry Potter" themed magic wands, parchment letters, potions, lotions, and Pygmy puffs... she is amazing!! :)

On sadder notes, I'm worried about my dear friend from work. She is going through some hard times, oh how I feel for her. She was beat up by her boyfriend on Saturday, she's not been able to sleep much and today she just found out that she has thyroid cancer! I've been lending her money, her Dad is flying down and she's said that she will pay me back but I don't mind if she doesn't. I am praying for her and her little girl, and I pray she will get away from that abusive, immature and pathetic excuse for a man that she's with...

Well, off to bed... G'Night

This Morning

Evaluation time. I'm trying to take a step back to look at things from a more distant perspective. I really need the space, I don't want to feel like I am in a relationship because I've been compelled to be in it. That is not fair to me, to my children, or to the other person.

The trouble as I see it is that I went from one relationship to another without an intermediate break. I had a generally good regard for the other person and was flattered that he was talking to me, I felt initial relief that he was a decent guy, that he was someone whom I could talk to. My world seemed changed, I felt like I was in love, the sky seemed brighter, there was a grand euphoria. So when he seemed to be struggling to find words to tell me that he loved me, I told him I loved him first. Things have been complicated ever since. Why? Because I felt that I had trapped myself into something which was unsustainable.

I need to let go of my ego, let go of the feeling that someone outside of myself can fix this situation, make me feel better...

SG

Some thoughts about following Jesus

My daughter A is due to be home soon and the house that I had hopes to have clean before then will still be an utterly hopeless mess.

I slept in lat today, until 11 am! It felt good, but then I am realizing that I still feel tired. Nevertheless I shuffled about picking up stray laundry from the kids rooms and got it all downstairs into semi-orderly piles... and then semi-cleaned the kitchen in preparation for waffle making. I tried a different method today with a nuttier brown rice. The result was something that would perhaps make good bread but definitely not crisp waffles. I'm thinking that perhaps I can use the extra waffles that the batter made for sandwiches.

So today, I shall most likely have clean laundry, stacked high in piles... ;) and semi-clean rooms... and that's gotta be good enough for now.

I'm looking at a picture of Jesus on my calendar for July, he's sitting by the shoreline, gazing into the distance, thinking. How serene and peaceful he looks. One thing that's interesting to me is that the Bible doesn't mention the type of work he does to support himself. Plus he tells his apostles to leave their trades to follow him. Then he wanders around from place to place telling parables, stories, that are supposed to uplift and edify the hearer. So I suppose that he taught for a living, didn't care about worldly goods, but cared about healing and teaching. I suppose that people must have fed him and clothed him... to me the concept of following Jesus has always been a bit confusing. Are we supposed to leave our work, our earthly concerns, and go about to peoples homes teaching them, healing them... relying upon the good graces of the Lord to provide? Impractical, and I ironically in some ways today this would be seen as immoral as we are expected to provide for ourselves and our families (as well we should be).

Then what do we do, in what way do we follow Christ? and are there more implications than we might think about the right way and wrong way to follow him?

What I mean is, what are the practicalities of being a follower of Christ? For instance, he was beaten, spat upon, ridiculed. Are we expected to live up to that standard, to allow ourselves to be abused? Theoretically yes. But is this a symbol of powerlessness? Is humility humiliation?

One thing to recognize is that when Jesus told his disciples that when a man compels you to walk a mile with him walk with him twain, he meant that as a method of regaining personal power. The first mile was a law allowed under Roman rule. That a Roman could compel an Non-Roman to carry his burden for 1 mile, in that way the person compelled had no power. But walking a second mile carrying the burden is the compelled persons choice, in that way he regains power, the Roman then becomes obligated to the person he compelled.

In another way, when Jesus was spat upon, mocked, ridiculed... and he withheld retaliation, he gained the power over the situation. Those who were expending the negative energy, those who spat, mocked, ridiculed, were losing power.

Some thoughts anyway.

SG

Friday Night Thoughts

First of all band pictures, my son was rather hard to catch as he marched down the street playing Clarinet for the Timpview High School band...

 

 Koli is the fourth one in... hard to see...

Anyway, I stayed late at work today, basically because I got here late, like always... I'm glad that I have the freedom to stay late. I REALLY needed something to ease myself into working again.

So I'm here, the kids are at my parents (my oldest and youngest that is...). My daughter Angie is at Girls Camp, Sione is with his Dad.

Sooo, some thoughts. I'm 32, no seriously self... that's the number. I remember the time passing, yet it passed like a dream. Every waking day it seems as though I'm trying to get past it... trying to get over it... well almost every day... there are a few days and hours... minutes... seconds... that I wished would never end. Yet they treacherously did, and now on to the next minute of this day as simple and complex demands take my attention.

I hear the sound of the cleaners, emptying the trash. Soon they will discover me here...

They are down the hallway though... so I will write some more.

I remember getting my diploma, it's sitting on a shelf here in my cubicle, a weighty piece of paper... it took many, many moments of my life to get it. The hours I spent reading, rereading, and listening to lectures... taking tests. It's ironic that they dare to feel authorized to "confer" upon me some title, a degree, an award for all of that effort, "The degree of Bachelor of Science - Accounting." Honors, Cum Laude... irony. I felt so little when I graduated, a walking stone... In reality it was the equivalent of the paperwork you fill out after the labor of bringing life into this world, anticlimactic...

Especially since I had been through so much during this time, death, pain, sorrow, helplessness, lost love...

The death I starred at, late at night, it drained out of me, it lived in me... I struggled to know why it was there. The death I ritually wrapped in a cloth and carried to a tiny grave hoping to bury a piece of the sorrow. I faced it in the day time as well, with hard cramps and familial responsibilities. You never know how strong you are until you hide the pain from those who are too young to carry it...

Death I heard as a call in the night, a call to my heart... eminent relinquishment of a bond. I heard a voice tell me my Grandmother was about to die and so I went to see her in the hospital, stroked her hair back, marveling that my strong and gracious Grandmother could lie there helpless and oblivious. I talked to her, told her how much I loved her and she struggled against the tube down her throat to say something to me, anything! I told her that it was alright, that I understood and that I loved her. She lay back down and in the morning she died... my father was there to see her go.

How hard it is to grasp the divine. How hard it is to live with your hands to the glass, peering into the unknown.

I lay close to death, many times, and those who could have helped me were oblivious. After eating far to much gluten I found myself lying in bed, painfully caring for my baby daughter, struggling to lift her to my breast. Struggling to hang on. I told my mother that I was dying as I sat at her kitchen table, she didn't believe me. But I felt my soul rise, I felt disconnected from the world. It happened many times during the months, nay years after I had damaged my intestines so thoroughly. I remember lying in the tall grasses outside, staring at the kitchen window, weeping at the frailty I felt. The silent walk back inside, the utter helplessness as I watched the kids play, unable to direct them to stop doing this or that... to weak to speak to them. That is my own touch with death, I hope to not have to visit that world between worlds any time soon.

God, to me always this silent understanding that I've held of the universe. I've known that he was there ever since I walked silently through the dark gym behind the chapel partition, looking up at the dark green "Exit" sign, walking slowly as my shoes tapped on the gym floor. I think that God knows how to work with man better than men know how to work with man. Because I've often had to separate the actions that people take, the choices they make, from the actual manifestation of Gods will because very often people get it wrong. The closest that I've come to God is when I don't even know he is going to help me.

The blessing of a broken heart. The blessing of separation... the blessing of guilt, and the harm that unfounded guilt can do...

The important thing to remember is that when your heart is broken you are humble... it is quite different from deep grief. A broken heart is a sorrow for the state of separation that you feel from God. It is quite keen, poignant... and ultimately quite healing.

The separation that you feel creates the yearning, the sorrow that cannot be healed until you feel the healing balm of Gilead sooth your soul.

Guilt, by far the best indication that something is wrong with what you are doing... yet misinterpreted it can be harmful if all you do is live in a state of guilt. Becoming immune to guilt completely is to be completely unable to be persuaded by what is right, good and moral. But wallowing in guilt, feeling guilty for something that is not your fault... is destructive in and of itself. It is a fine line to walk to honor your conscience and yet to spurn the message of inadequacy or of failure. I suppose the best guide is to feel bad for those things that you intentionally do that you know are wrong. To question and evaluate those things that other people have influenced you to do and/or have done to you... and to not allow yourself to feel guilty for not having the time to do everything that you want to do.

Prayer, useless if you're not even trying, but a vital connection to the divine if used properly. The trouble is knowing in your mind and in your heart what you should do, because often your mind doesn't agree with your heart... and sometimes you wish that you had another choice... and sometimes the impossible seems to be within your grasp, it is marvelous.

I'm going to sign off, wishing that I knew more about this puzzling world... and yet ironically wishing that all I knew were those people whom I loved, and wishing that I could stay with each one of them forever...