mood rings

Do you remember mood rings? The cheap ones that you could purchase at Claire's that usually turned your finger green around the band and were a better barometer for the circulation in your extremities than the actual mood of your person. Today, I found myself wishing, quite fervently, that I had a mood ring that would let me know before I got up what kind of day it was going to be. I think I would need an adult version of the colors. Something along the lines of:

• Blue: You are perfectly lovely today. You are pure sunshine. Speak freely as you choose.
• Red: Vah. Vah. Voom. Your 13 year old adolescent is in top snarky, innuedo-d form. Please enjoy but also be aware of your audience.
• Yellow: The stresses of life are making you extra weepy today. Please remember that your cats don't play mean out of spite but out of habit. Despite appearances, they are not actually out to get you.
• Green: You are reading too much into everything. Hold your mental tongue, don't take things too seriously. Hold you verbal tongue as well, while you're at it.
• Black: What appears to be a good start to the day crashes around your feet by your AM shower. Watch your tone and your actions. Hold your mental tongue but actually talk to those who are annoying you. The scary quiet thing has lost all charms. Be kind.

Reading these, they are actually half fortune cookie, half mood ring. But, in the interest of being transparent (modeled by my husband) I'm going to confess. My mood ring probably went to bed yellow last night, only to start the day off green and then take a quick U-Turn to black this morning.

In the group home setting I used to work in, we didn't talk about mood rings, per se, but we did look for triggers, for signs of an immenint meltdown with the girls. As I live in my situation, I find that it is all too easy to try and pinpoint triggers. And I could pinpoint them. Lots of transitions. Lots of typical oldest child behaviors (impossible standards for self, for starts). Lots of busyness, not enough rest for this introvert. But, and this is an important but, but it doesn't matter. Those things, they just let me off the hook. A hook that I hung myself up on when I didn't keep myself in check. I have the blessing of self awareness, I ought to know myself enough to know when I need to shut down and reboot. And today, I didn't. Did I need to overreact about the windows? No. Did I need to assume that he had assumed the worst about me? Again, no. In fact, shouldn't I be assuming that he assumes the best about me, in love? In fact, the question that is probably best: should I place my own issues on him ever, much less first thing on a Monday morning? No.

As I finished getting ready for work and walked across the black-iced-sheathed parking lot, my own self actualization took a deeper hold. My capability to be a bitch as well as a lovely person is astounding. I'm not proud, but I am more aware. This is, I know, part of living thoughtfully. It is not all beauty and flowers and creativity. It is being thoughtful in the times of the black mood ring, in the times of the snarky wounded sinner and revising how I cope, how I live, how I treat those I love the most. Living thoughtfully brings tears of shame and repentence, as well as tears of joy and laughter.

Where to from here? Ask for forgiveness. Cling to grace. Seek health. Repeat until death. Take the cat to the vet. Get a haircut on Friday. Keep breathing. Keep learning. Keep living.

But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.-James3

Lots of Pictures.

So. Things to update. We'll let pictures more or less do the work for us. We rearranged the living room. I love it. It was in the upper 20s and sunny today. I love that too.
Ender's favorite activity is watching the birds on the feeders. This is a picture from the first day we had them up. In this smaller feeder, we probably have to refill it every other day. The other one is less frequent as it is bigger. Squirrels are thrown from it repeatedly.
Cuddling with BlueBear is Ender's second favorite activity. And this is possibly one of my personal favorite pictures of the kitten. He was definitely hugging it. For cute.

We have a new resident in quarantine in the bedroom. Ender is still trying to figure out how he feels about her.
This is Bean. She loves feet. She is 14 weeks old, medium haired stray cat. She was found near a sewer drain and was found by a family who kept her overnight and brought her to the Saint Paul Human Society. I saw her online on Friday and pounced on it. Dan has always wanted a black kitten, she is wonderful. She's an odd cat, with 5 toes on her front paws. She is completely cute and was too playful to pause for pictures.

Spring? Is that you?

While the high for my part of the world today is a balmy 16 degrees (compared to the veritable icebox that the past few day's temperatures of between 1 and 6 degrees have been), I am looking forward to the forecast of the next week. Temps in the mid 20s to low 30s. And while I trust Minnesota to throw a raging blizzard our way sometime in mid-March to throw an Arctic wrench into the machinery, I still choose to hope. Spring? Is that you, knocking at the back door?

Seeking Cohesion

I don't like presenting blogs that aren't a unified whole in some way, shape or form (at least in my head), but in order to get thoughts down, here we are. Maybe someday I can expand and be more thoughtful. If anyone can spot an underlying theme, I'll give them a cookie.

And here we go:
-Had coffee with Vanessa yesterday. She's on a 4 day vacation in town so we had a chance to catch up and grab some Caribou time. What amazes me is how easy this friendship is now. What was, at one point, a friendship that seemed more forced by proximity (at least to me) has, as it has been given space, grown into a relationship where I find that there is true care and concern on both parts. We have been through three years of living together, something that at this point only one other person outside of family can say about me (and it's not my husband!). It would be easy to say that it's easy because we only see each other a handful of times a year at the moment, and there may be truth in that. But in reality, I think that we've grown up. We've come more and more into our own. And it's just easy. Not forced.

-I feel like the past few days have been a wash of new information and chances to learn about doing student ministry in an urban setting. I feel humbled by how much I am still learning, how much of what I am comfortable doing is within my context from growing up (white, middle class, suburban) and how my experiences at Bethel have prepared me for what is coming and what I am doing. We are all in this learning, learning from one another and trying to live out our calling. I have been convicted that we talk so much about where we are lacking and don't pay attention to the resources that we do have (particularly, male leaders and our location to local schools) and as such, we haven't used them as well as we should. Lots of thoughts percolating.

-In light of all of these thoughts, however, is my list of things that I really must do this week here at work. I'm trying to list out, intentionally, what I need to do during my work week. As a way of being more accountable to my time and the ministry's needs. I'm almost overwhelmed already. This is a busy season for all of us. I am also incredibly excited.

-We rearranged the living room this weekend. I really love it. It feels homier. If that's a word. Anyway. It hadn't been rearranged since the wedding, since Dan moved in. And really, that wasn't rearranging, that was fitting his things in as best we could. This was more collaborative and feels better.

-I'm working 3 out of 4 Mondays now. It's a different feel, well, the first hour of my work day has had a different feel. My Monday seems more like a Friday so far...but I know that things will pick up considerably. Speaking of which, my self-allotted time to blog this out has come to an end and I must really start my day. So I'll end with these three closing, short thoughts.

-I think that Christian is going to win Project Runway. And, the more I watch it, the more I think that Jillian is an alien. I wish she'd show some emotion. Or change her vocal frequencies. Something. Throw me a bone, Jillian!

-Lost blew my mind this week.

-Dan and I are going to the Matt Costa concert tonight. It's a combination birthday present, and Valentine's day dinner out. I'm really looking forward to it and hoping that Dan enjoys his gift.

-Why the heck does blogger let you use webdings as a formatting font option? It just doesn't make sense!?!?

roses are red, poems are read

In truth, this Valentines day has been just like the day before, and I anticipate, will be quite similar to the day I will have tomorrow. I'm not complaining or bemoaning the state of affairs. Dan and I exchanged gifts earlier this week (two more years of RealSimple. My not so subtle hints took hold!) and are going out to dinner this weekend. We enjoyed a simple night in and took in yet another exhilerating episode of Lost. I don't mind Valentines Day...as I lovingly remind Dan, Valentines Day likely single-handedly paid for my education and childhood. (And that other Hallmark inspired holiday -- Mother's Day.) Still. I like simple, heartfelt gestures and I felt that I missed the boat on partaking in some this year. I'll have to be more creative in the month's to come.

As I was driving I listened to a story on NPR interviewing Ted Kooser -- a former poet laureate. He used to write valentine poems and mail them to women (his wife is incredibly good natured). He recently collected the numerous Valentine Poems that he wrote over the years and published them in a volume. He shared one of my favorites and, if you are reading this far away, let it serve as my Valentine's wish to you -- to share in your company and share what you mean to me. He was inspired by a friend who was trying to get a girl to notice him, so he kept slipping flirtatious pieces of paper in her sweater pockets when she wasn't looking.

"Pocket Poem"
If this comes creased and creased again and soiled

as if I'd opened it a thousand times

to see if what I'd written here was right,

it's all because I looked too long for you

to put it in your pocket. Midnight says

the little gifts of loneliness come wrapped

by nervous fingers. What I wanted this

to say was that I want to be so close

that when you find it, it is warm from me.

Finches Feasting

Sometime in the last 24 hours the birds found one of our birdfeeders. Approximately 15 minutes later Ender found the finches. He is, of course, frustrated by the sink and window blocking him in.

This morning my dreams danced around, not really settling on a specific theme. Shapes and patterns shifted with every plaintive cry of the cat outside my door. My last dream was spring. A dark, rainy morning. I could smell the moisture in the air, feel it in my lungs, it was heavier, warmer. As my eyelids fluttered open, knowing it was 8 o'clock and that the sun should be out I grew foolishly hopeful at the darkness filtering in through the curtains.

"Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." Genesis 2:7

What would the man have been without the breath of God? Nameless? Without identity? Without proof of maker or foundation? Instead, man became a living being. It is the breath of God that sustains me, that moves me, that grows me. It is the breadth of God where I find grace, acceptance, mercy and identity. The breath and breadth of God move me through these final weeks of winter (5.5 more, if the gopher is to be believed) and into days where dampness and growth are breathable things. 40 days of movement toward the cross, denial of self, time of reflection. Spring.