Thursday, August 23, 2007

Cleaning can be fun.

Well, it can.

Oh, come on.

Okay, in seriousness, this is why I take forever to clean my room out/up. I'm merrily putting clothes away, minding my own business, when I stumble across a little piece of myself that I'd forgotten about. A picture, a piece of writing, some memory of something that was at one point really, really important.

As I was sorting through my 'portfolio' (the stack of design work accumulated from the last 3 years that usually resides in my closet and which has now been demoted to 'under the bed'), I came across a typography project from 2nd year. The design isn't half bad (Bodoni?! What was I thinking?), but the text really got me.

DERAILED

A wall of humid air hits me as I run from the cool, dark interior of the house. Slamming the front door behind me, I ignore the stares of the children playing nearby and head furiously away from home. Blind, I steer myself down the shoulder of a busy road, away from town and
them. Cars rush by me, some swerving dangerously close, but I do not move away. Without checking for oncoming traffic, I take a sharp left onto a country road. A few steps inward and the sound of the traffic gives away to muffled stillness. The silence presses in around me as frantic thoughts roll uneasily around in my head.
Through forest and field I follow this road, until another intersects it. A lawnmower drones in the distance and a slight, urgent breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees. Shadows drift across the cracked pavement as the sun slips in and out of sight behind gathering clouds.
I breathe deeply. My heart is pounding painfully, and I am unsure of where to turn.
Peering down the westward road, I can make out rust-brown rails dissecting the pastoral landscape and cutting a gouge northward. Where it is met by the road, a dormant signal stands, its deadened black eyes glaring through the shimmering heat. Mesmerized, I turn, and trudge down the lonely road towards it while stray whispers of thought chase circles around my head. On either side of the road, oak trees form a sweeping green corridor. Passing beneath it, I look up through the gnarled branches to see the sky start to darken. Dead leaves scrape dryly across the pavement, and a cloud of dust kicks up among the broken corn skeletons in a nearby field.
As I leave the trees, the whispers inside my head grow to an angry buzz, as a clap of thunder tears across the sky and the trees pitch and heave in a sudden gust of wind. Pale ghosts of the past winter swirl around me as I draw nearer and nearer, the dull gaze of the crossing signal boring through me. Above the wind, the sound of an ominous bellow swells to a crescendo. In an instant, the languid eyes of the signal explode to life, filling the air with light and sound. Fate, the voices inside my head taunt, has brought me here.
The growl of the approaching train builds and builds until even the storm is overcome and the buzzing in my ears becomes a painful throb. Gasping, I reach out with a white-knuckled hand for a nearby fencepost, dragging myself closer to the rails. Their surfaces glint like knife-edges, offering me a solution to the problems that drove me here in the first place. Closing my eyes, I feel the ground vibrate with pure energy as the train bursts out of the trees and roars past. Boxcars fly by me, on e blur after another, clanking and groaning only a foot from my grasp. My hair whips across my face, stinging my eyes, which are full of salty tears that collect and fall, shattering noiselessly on the gravel.
Car after car streaks by me, pounding my ears with deafening sound, and I scream. I scream at their recklessness, and I scream at the futility that I feel wrapping cold fingers around me. I scream until the world spins and the earth tilts and the sky swirls into oblivion. One, long, overwrought howl that is drowned out by the relentless growly of the beast before me.
And the the train is gone, and my screams fall away into ringing silence. Shivering in the rain, chest heaving, I sway. The gravel rends my knees as the slam into the ground.
In the distance, the long, low, pitiless wail of the train cries out against the storm.


I remember the day that this talks about, and I remember what it was like to feel so utterly helpless. It was roughly just after I had found out that I'd failed first year, and things were looking utterly bleak. What's interesting to me, I suppose, is that this was written almost 8 months after the fact, at the start of what seemed to me like a very hope-giving relationship. My life is full of strange splits in reality. Leaving singlehood to enter coupledom, feeling hopeless and then feeling redemption. When I wrote this, I wrote not as someone who had moved on and was living a separate reality from that hopelessness, but as someone who was still rooted in it. Written early on in the second term of second year, it was a very quick downward spiral that nearly led me to failure once again.

Since finding God and choosing to follow Christ, my life has been systematically realigned. As one thing turns, so must others, until entire areas of my life are suddenly filled with new light and hope. The prospect of relationships, singleness, and marriage are a very obvious example, and many people know I'm very outspoken now about how good God is in his design for our relational lives. So much has changed internally that reading this made me very aware of another split in reality. I lived that experience, and yet it seems so foreign to me now. I feel like I'm observing myself from a distance. I've only had one similar experience since becoming a believer, where I could feel futility 'wrapping cold fingers around me', but even then, it was a different encounter, because I became very aware of the Holy Spirit, leading and counseling me.

I was doing something I knew I shouldn't. I had striven so hard to avoid this situation, and yet here I was, finding myself in the same position, submitted to my own desires, like a slave. I knew it, and yet I continued. And as I continued, grief mingling with the promise of release, I was aware of something. Someone, I suppose, egging me on, telling me to continue, coaxing and pleading, nudging me forward. At the same time, a quiet, steady voice broke through, telling me I could still turn back, that this didn't have to be my life, my reality. To me, it seemed too late. The first voice grew stronger and more insistent and as release welled up and spilled over, my joy and relief gave way to horror as the voice cried out in victory and began feeding from my sin as a wild animal tears into a fresh kill. I'd failed again, and the enemy was delighted. Exhausted and shamed, the quiet voice found an audience in me. It told me that this wasn't permanent, and that if I trusted, I knew I could be forgiven, and that I could move on. I was still loved. Wiping my tears, stood up and walked away. I'm still walking.

Thinking about it now, it's amazing, the stillness and calmness that the second voice brought, and how simple it was to slip out of that first reality into the second, of a life spend following Jesus. No fog of confusion, no widening pit of emptiness inside. Just a simple choice to walk away and focus on Jesus. We're not guaranteed a perfect life, but we are guaranteed grace. I'm still amazed that people find my story, well, amazing. It's seemed like such a natural process, albeit a very hard one at times. I'm just thankful now that I have the option to choose, rather than feel helpless.

Something else to be thankful for, I guess.



Monday, August 06, 2007

Ranty McRant

I'm taking a short break from cleaning out my room. Like, literally, gutting every possible orifice. You know what I'm learning?

I keep EVERYTHING. Blaaaaarg.

Witness Erin: Cleaning machine. Whirr-Hummmm.

Seriously though! I've found all kinds of things from first year, which was uh, 4 years ago, and even before then. I keep the strangest things. Sticks from hikes. Old notes from classes I've long forgotten the lessons of (in hopes that I'd study them sometime in the future?? No THANK YOU, Friend!!). Living virtually out of a suitcase in Halifax taught me the value of simplicity. So I'm making an effort to cut my room in half. I've got a box full of stuff for eBay, I've already carted 3 bags of paper to the blue box. Another stack to be burned. My desk drawers have never looked so clean or purposeful. It's taken me 3 hours just to do my computer desk. Just looking at my drafting desk makes me sad. Mostly because it has mutated from desk to a junk collector.

I need a more functional room. Pray - seriously - that I manage to severely minimize this space. This room is too full of memories to be full of crap too.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Turning from "Self " to "Selfless"

Hey friends. :)

I'm not entirely sure where to begin this post. With joy, I'd like to tell you that I'm making it my plan to update this blog at least on a weekly basis, probably every Sunday. This summer I learned a lot about the value of taking time to reflect and meditate on what I've been learning, and Sunday seems like the most logical day. So here is the first of the Sunday posts!

First, to give you a brief update:
On Wednesday, August 1st, I arrived at Pearson International Airport at 5:48PM, 10 minutes ahead of schedule. It was a relief to be finished traveling. Saying goodbye most of Monday and Tuesday was very hard, and I felt a strong desire to move on and away from those thoughts and feelings and into the next step. Within hours, I was home with family, and then off to a staff party for my workplace in Waterdown. It was a beautiful night and a great time connecting with my coworkers at home and just genuinely enjoying time with them.

Thankfully, God has provide for me abundantly this month! I am now working 19 out of 31 days. This is a great big answer to prayer, as I did not get nearly as many hours this summer as I would have liked (though I probably worked about as many as I could physically or emotionally handle). My time is also being quickly filled up with things related to York C4C, friends, family, and just taking some time to chill. Which leads me into what I wanted to really say...

The month of August for most people is pretty insignificant, as far as calendar months go. We get a couple of holidays, really hot weather, and hayfever and back to school prep to boot. August to me is slightly more significant. This month marks the one year anniversary of the beginning of my journey for Truth and God. Aug. 15th marks the specific date that my seemingly ideal world came crashing down about my ears, and I was forced to look at the reality of my life and my situation. Roughly a month later, I made the full commitment to follow Christ, and 5 months following that, I declared publicly through my baptism that there really was no turning back for me. I had made up my mind. A month following, I left for Edinburgh, Scotland. Facing the reality that mankind is indeed stubborn and has desperately fallen out of sorts with God, I stepped out into the battlefield. I learned a lot from my teammates and the people we spoke to, and came home with the conviction that God was calling me to continue to study and grow at home. Three months later, I boarded a bus with Olga to Halifax, and for three months I spent my time getting to know God more intimately, growing exponentially, and encouraging others around me. Here I sit, a year later, hardly believing the words that I type. I lived all this, the sorrow, the joy, the adventure, everything. So what have I taken away from it all? What great lessons have I learned, and what will my life look like in the future?

God really does have the best plan, and he really is faithful to those who love Him and whom He loves. Hey, that sounds pretty good.

But what does it mean in my life (and hopefully, yours)?

As I look back, and now look forward to what's ahead, I can see one clear trend, which I alluded to in the title of this post. It's something that, while my growth may have been exceptionally speedy, has taken a long to unfurl. It's the steady, subtle change from being selfish to selfless. Now, I'm not saying that I've done the complete 180, or that the spiritual/emotional place that I'm at now is the endpoint of my journey. We continue to work out our salvation with fear and trembling, and we are cautioned numerous times to press on towards the goal (Jesus Christ).

I am thankful for my time with my coworkers, the Meeting House, C4C, my friends, and anyone else who really opened themselves up to God and helped me get back on my feet. Your actions and words were amazing models of God's love. You were patient in the early days when I wallowed continually, and spent a great deal of time in self-learning and spiritual re-adjustment. That work isn't finished. But now, coming out of that a year later, I can see the future much more clearly. As much time was spent carefully fitting the pieces back into place according to God's will, now it's time to turn from self to others. Paul didn't just see God and and go "Hey, look, there is an almighty God out there who loves us. Neat." and trip along his merry way. Nor did he simply realize how wrong he had been and seek to turn from those things that stood between him and God, and that was the end of it. He made it his life long mission, his one and only purpose, to know Christ, to know the Good News and live within its truth - that we have been given the amazing chance to be totally free of sin, to have our lives changed, wiped clean, and set aright. And not only that, he ministered to others! He spent the rest of his life in close relationship with the people in the world around him, encouraging them, rebuking them in love, teaching them and praying for them. He turned from self, to selfless.

I want to live like that.

I just didn't realize how much until I came home.

Like I said, the Meeting House has been instrumental in my walk with God. Their unrelentless pursuit of the real Jesus, their boldness in tackling issues such as sex, violence, poverty, and so much more, has been inspiring. I've learned and grown a lot within those walls. But now, I think it may be time to turn knowledge into action, place my involvement at the Meeting House (and not my learning) on the back burner, and really look closely at the community I'm in, right here in Hamilton/Waterdown. I'm not sure what this looks like yet. It might mean attending the Meeting House location closer to home, or attending a different, more local church. It could (and this sounds appealing to me) mean starting a Waterdown homechurch. It could mean many things. But I do know that it looks like serving others in spite of the way the world views them, and in spite of myself.

Sorry this was so long, but as we've all noticed, it's been a month since I last wrote and there's been a lot going on in my world these days. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I continue to spend this month working out the plan for this year. I'll try and make it a little... lighter... next time! ;)