we have to fight for it.

You know when you’re reading something that you know will change your life, our outlook, your paradigm forever? I just finished one of those chapters. It was a call to community, to fellowship, to battle, to hearts entwined, even when it hurts. It made my inner being just long for relationships like that. That’s the way its supposed to be, you know. “It’s normal” says Mr. Eldredge.

I’ve been re-reading Waking the Dead for a few months now. Other books have been read in this period, but this one shouldn’t be read all at once…or if you should you should follow a little pattern I first read in “Spiritual Leadership” by J. Oswald Sander. Read it first to get an overview, a second time to really grasp what he is saying, then a third to let it penetrate your heart. Or something like that.

No wonder our churches are in shambles. The way we’re doing things remains status quo. Lives aren’t changed because hearts aren’t being touched. I’m not talking about the “wow, that was a great sermon”…or song…or whatever. I’m talking about the ability of a community to go in and see someone’s heart over a period of time. One time experiences don’t change people (well sometimes, but its rare). People are living organisms, we grow, we change over time. For the most part the only quick change living things experience is death.

What we need is a group of people, joined together over time. Knowing each others crap, seeing it, loving it, and knowing that there is something so much better there, under the surface. Fighting for each others’ glory. That’s what I want. And I’m willing to fight for it.

My writing abilities don’t do justice to my heart right now. Words just don’t seem to do it.

sad and freaking all at the same time

I'm dog-sitting. Oscar (also known as Bubba) belongs to my dear friend Sara. She calls him "Issue Dog" yet loves him dearly and unashamedly. There's a lot of Oscar to love. He's not very big, but his personality is. He's a Boston Terrier, makes snorty noises, is deaf, knows sign language, has epilepsy, wears a yellow slicker poncho thing when he goes out in the rain. He's a trip.
I've had him since last week, when Sara went home to see her family. The first few days were hard: he kept relieving himself in my dining room and kitchen (poop in the kitchen, pee in the dining room), christened all the rugs in those rooms, wouldn't take his epilepsy medication, and was just being a stinker.
But the last couple of days, as we've gotten used to each others schedules and I started putting him in his crate during the day, we've been getting along better and he just seemed happier.

Then I come home yesterday in the storm, looking forward to putting his coat on him and letting him look like ET in it. But as I shook him to wake him up, he didn't move. He wasn't breathing. It took me a few minutes to move mentally from "he's not breathing...what do I do" to "he's not breathing. He probably hasn't been for hours and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it."

The I started making phone calls. The first was to Lisa, fellow Sara and Oscar lover. "to hear her tell it, I said "He's not breathing, get over here. [click]" But I think I must have said something else during our 51 second conversation. Then I left a message with one of my roommates and got ahold of the other. It was good to talk to her. It made me calm down some. I just have this need to talk about it, even now. Then I called my mom and dad. Then we got a call from a marketing research company. I'm sure they get the "I'm sorry, I can't talk to you now because my friend's dog that I'm taking care of just died and now is not a good time" excuse all the time, but this time it was really real. Oh well.

Lisa came, we called Sara, really really really hard for both of us. I cried. She cried. If I've ever wanted to believe in Doggy Heaven, it was there. we cleaned up his mess and took him to the after hours clinic where they'll keep him until Sara comes home.

The whole thing just breaks my heart--mostly for Sara, but also for this feeling that this is not how God intended life to be. He didn't intend for our hearts to break over and over when someone or something we love dies. He didn't intend for our bodies to battle illness and diseases and pain. But we do. My heart longs for the day when we won't have to anymore.

that reminds me...

Posting that big about cards reminds me of when I was little and I had this fear of throwing things away because I'd never see them again. It all began with a Spiderman balloon. My first memory of helium baloons. Jeff got a Spiderman and I got a butterfly. He let it go and in his typical philosphic way (many of my memories of Jeff from when we were little are him saying something profound...maybe its just what I remember) said that it would go all the way up to atmosphere and then burst. That saddened me. And then I started to not want to throw anything away because I'd never see it again. Dad told me we'd get me a big box to keep all my papers in so I wouldn't have to be never see them again. I don't know how long it was until I figured out that this was indeed, the whole point of trash collection. How big would that box have to be if I kept it since then? Sure am glad I didn't do it and don't have to deal with it now.

cards

Yesterday I wrote this as an email to Daniela, then realized I should have blogged it since I haven't done any of that for over a week. Maybe later I'll tell you why...

For now. Ladies and Gentlemen I give you....email.

Today I’m going through my basket of cards…thank you cards, birthday cards,
Christmas cards, thinking of you cards, ect. I haven’t thrown hardly any
of them away. Some of them are dated all the way back to 2002, my first
spring here. I just having a hard time throwing them away when they
contain greetings of friends. But I’m doing it. Except for very
special ones (Family birthday cards and ones with content too dear to give
up…like yours) but then there are others that I just feel like I need to let go
of. I try really hard not to be a pack rat. I like to not have
things sitting around but then again, I’m very sentimental, too. I try to
find a balance, realizing that at the end of my life, I don’t want to have to
throw away a box of old cards, as much as I loved those people. Sure, I
may forget people, but really, Do I want boxes and boxes of cards in my
life?? UGG.
I did find one from Trena and one from my Grandma
who passed away. Those are very dear to me. I have been keeping my
parents and grandparents cards, too. They date theirs so one day it will
be nice to have a whole collection of them. I don’t know how many I
have. Over the years I’ve kept them in so many places that I don’t know if
I’ll ever find them all again.

Anyway, I felt the need to
write about it. Hmm…That would have made a good blog.