Wandering Heart

"Our stained glass means nothing without light."   It's a lyric by Sleeping at Last from the song "Sight" that has been running through my mind over and over again for weeks now.   It is a powerful image.   I have always been mesmerized by stained glass windows.  I remember sitting in my grandparents' Lutheran church as a child contemplating the scenes they depicted of Christ.  But at night without the light, they lose their spell.   In darkness, they become nothing.    In this advent season, remember the Christ who came as light of the world.  Remember our lives are nothing without this Light.  Soak in the beauty of these stained glass windows  as the light beams through.  May our lives be just as beautiful as we allow the Light to shine within and through us. 

"Remember, you are the cheapskate, not God,"  I read those words in The Artist's Way  by Julia Cameron a couple days ago.  It is a book I would highly recommend.  I cannot stop talking about it.  For a bit of context, the chapter is titled "Recovering a Sense of Abundance".  You examine your views of money, explore what brings you delight, and remember that creativity is not a limited supply.  Cameron causes you to question why your decisions are always made out of sensibility and encourages you to "pamper" yourself.  Or as Donna and Tom in Parks and Rec say, "Treat yo' self!".  I'm beginning to see the benefit in this practice.  It does not have to be some extravagant purchase.  Rather, it is small "luxuries", as she calls them, that bring you joy and delight.  Do you like succulents?  Place them in your room and your office.  Do you enjoy eating blueberries?  Buy them often and include them in as many foods ...

Words define what other words mean. Trees define what trees are. We use other birds to define ‘bird’ and we wouldn't use a rock to help define birds. The 'thing' is defined by the thing itself. Humans define what humans are. And God defines what God is. That is a hard pill to swallow when I want to define Him. It is also magnificent for He is exceedingly beyond any definition I could imagine and comprehend.

I'm a little hesitant crossing intersections these days.  I pause and look over my shoulder more than  the average person.  On my bus ride this morning, I watched as three people risked crossing and cutting into traffic.  I would have waited but that's not always been my habit. I  hate waiting. But I'm beginning to see benefit in waiting. Hesitation and waiting are different.  They both are a pause.  Yet, hesitation is often weaved with uncertainty.  Waiting is incorporated with certainty.  With hesitation there is indecision.  In waiting, the decision has been made. When you approach a yellow light, three responses are possible.  You may go.  You may hesitate.  You may stop.  If you hesitate and then decide to go, you may end up running a red light from your indecision.  Stopping requires waiting, though.  And in this stop to wait, usually patience is required of you too. It seems there is circumst...

Today, I had many thoughts for writings go through my head.  I'm going to write a few of them out, give you a glimpse into them.  Some are heavy seven course meals that I've not been able to make it through yet.  Others are simply the garnish on the side.  I'm not intending to wrap this up in a nice little package to place under the tree.  Rather, I'm going to unwrap the package and open it and leave it there for you and me.  So let's get unwrapping. This morning on my way to work, I saw the sunrise against the Chicago skyline.  The buildings were softer in the morning light.  The sky was grey-blue.  The clouds were lavender-gray and glowing pink.  It was beautiful.  It was a moment I wish I could picture and hold in my mind forever.  As I was observing it, I felt an aching absence from something not yet gone.  And I wonder if you ever experience this?  Missing something, even when you still have it. I watched par...

Twice this week I have expressed feeling needy to two wonderful humans and friends.  We are only on day three and it's happened two times already.  I hate feeling needy.  I'm left in a vulnerable position when I'm needy.  I hate being vulnerable.  It makes me feel weak.  I hate being weak because it exposes my neediness.  On and on in this detrimental circle we go.  Often I stifle my neediness, pretend it does not exist, justify why I should not be feeling it.  It forces me to recognize what I need.  It forces me to face myself.  It forces me to know I am not completely self-sufficient. When I ignore my neediness, my needs, I'm essentially saying I am not important enough have them met. I'm essentially invalidating part of my humanity. To be human is to be needy. Today, I needed food and water and warmth and sleep. Today, I needed affirmation and love and encouragement and laughter and hope. Today, I needed mercy and forgi...

Two people I know were having a discussion today.  (Well, I'm sure everyone I know had a discussion of sorts today.)  I have no idea what the details of this conversation were, only that it was on writing everyday.  One of them told me this.  I had just been recently considering the possibility of posting something everyday.  I think I will try it.  I have to take small bites or the whole will overwhelm me.  So for now, it's one week of postings. I was in my Lyft ride on my way home tonight thinking about the recent purchase I made at a small retailer chain.  Upon walking inside, my five senses were instantly attacked with Christmas, with greens and reds, smells of cinnamon, Christmas music, tinsel, and heaven only knows what else.  I was overwhelmed before I could even take three steps inside.  I'm not even sure what the Christmas section had to offer.  I had to ignore it or face an engulfment of jolly, kaleidoscopic, purchasable...

I recently finished a clever, concise book called  Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader  by Anne Fadiman.  As the title suggests, it is a book about books.  More than that though, it is a book about Fadiman's life experiences intertwined with love of books and reading.  Many times within the stories, I found myself wishing I had read more books and wishing I knew more. My manager recently mentioned a man (whose name I do not remember) who read every book in an entire library.  And I found myself wishing I had read more books and knew more. At least half of my recent watch list on Netflix consists of informational shows on design, algorithms, and weird wonders of the world.  And I find myself wishing I knew more. In conversation, if I do not think I have anything worthwhile to add, I often remain silent.  And I find myself wishing I had the right words and had greater knowledge to draw from and bring to the interaction. I often have a ...