Haiku

The Washington Post runs a 100 word "haiku" piece every Sunday, as two individuals share a snapshot of their life in 100 words. Driving to work today, I thought, now perhaps that would be a good practice for me. And so friends, a 100 word haiku from a very delinquent subscriber.

The wet, heavy snow dropped on my windshield this morning as I drove to work. The trees in the park near my job had a rosy tinge - ah yes, the redbuds. It's too early! But tell that not to spring. The warmth of the office welcomed me in the morning, and lulled me in the afternoon. There is often a feel of college to the place; some slower days followed by frenetic activity as projects are due and deadlines come and go. I like it. The pressure, the fast work, the finished product, then something new. By evening, only traces of snow remained, the ground saturated with new moisture.

Bonhoeffer addresses the boundaries of morning and evening in his "Meditations on the Word." That He knows we could not handle boundaryless lives in our humanity, and so He gives us the day at hand. The morning to wake up to, the evening to work towards, and to rest. Sufficient for the day is it's trouble; and still the promise stands, that He will give rest.

Rest well.

In a nutshell . . .

  A friend gently reminded me the other day, that if I was going to have a xanga, I needed to post!  So here is my almost quarterly post . . .

-many of you know that I moved to Alexandria, VA in early August.  The past few months have been stretching ones for me with the job hunt process, moving in and settling down, etc.  Blessed as well, with the support of family and friends left behind and the sweet blessings of new friends here as well.  I love the area - the readily accessible bike routes, new running routes . . .while I can't say the same for learning the new roads and directions, I realize that much of this is due to my innate sense of "I can get there . . ." without taking out the map.  Perhaps my most troubling moment of driving was bumping the same lady twice in traffic; the second time she was more than a bit perturbed, but I was very willing to take any heat - I would have been quite ready to dish it out if I were her!

-just finished two weeks of a new job with a contractor for the Foreign Service Institute, which I'm really enjoying.  The company develops distance learning language and non-language training programs for the Foreign Service and State Department and it is most interesting.  Lots of editing work at this point which is different from what I've done in the past, but I'm really liking the change and learning new skills.

-it's been an incredibly gorgeous October day here  - the perfect welcome to fall - and tomorrow promises to be sweet as well.  Hoping that tomorrow is a restful one, a respite in the week, a still place in the storm.  Thanks for your patience with my sporadic posts!

- "The journey of a thousand miles, begins with the first step." A.W. Tozer

I think . . . .

That the hardest part of writing is knowing where to start.  Actually, that is probably the hardest part of anything . . .but when someone shows me how and tells me it's possible,  I can believe - or at least try to believe - and give it a go myself.  Last weekend, my cousin through one simple analogy and explanation taught me how to wakeboard.  The trick seemed to be repeating his words in my head as the boat pulled me up, visualizing myself as a ball, tucked in tight as the boat began to pull.  And it happened . . .the force of the boat unwound the ball; it was possible to get up, to go, to fall, and to get up and try again.

Maybe that's part of the key . . .having someone who's gone ahead, who knows what to do, where to look, Whom to look to . . .and who then says "You, too, can hope, dream, fail, succeed, and try."  On my nightstand, there is a small cardboard matchbox, bearing the name of a restaurant where two women sat beside me and across from me, encouraging me to hope, to soar, to try.  When darkness and fear wedge their way into my heart, wielding heavy swords,  I look at that matchbox and remember that two women took the time to speak hope and courage into my life . . .hope to look ahead and the courage to start down an uncharted path - uncharted to me, but known to Him.  

Baby steps suffice . . .tottering steps as well . . .His hand is strong.      

Currently Reading Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books By Azar Nafisi see related

The Martin four . . . (Sarah, Rob, Heather, Doug). . .Times are rare that we're all four in the same place, so we seized the moment during Heather's graduation weekend . . .

So, 10 weeks is awhile . . . .

  Thanks, Adam for the encouragement to add a few lines to my long-neglected xanga site!  Moving my mom's mom into our home, taking the foreign service exam, closing up things at school (inventory, collecting books and fees - I now empathize with teachers' relief at the end of the school year!), and events surrounding my sis' graduation have filled the days. 

  Will be home this summer and am planning a trip out West with Keiko in July; Arkansas is the furthest west I've been stateside, so I'm looking forward to seeing more!  Plans right now are to move to Alexandria in August - my anticipation heightens and the emotional aspects of parting and moving are subliminal, yet present, I think.

  Along the lines of looking to the immediate future . . .Recently, I read Kite Runner, a moving novel centered around the relationship of two Afghan boys; one of my favorite ways to learn about history/other cultures is through historical fiction and this book helped me to glimpse Afghanistan, its complexities and the realities of life for her people in a way that I hadn't been exposed to before.  A phrase oft-repeated by the boys in the book, and for that matter in the Muslim world is "Inshallah" - or "as God wills."  The phrase stuck in my mind in thinking about future plans - James touched on it as well.  Years ago, a dear lady who helped my mother clean each week would say as she left "See you next week, Lord willing."  To my ears at the time, it seemed a bit archaic and cliche. After reading Kite Runner and the oft-used "Inshallah," this woman's words returned to my mind again; when people ask me my plans now, there is a faint whisper in my heart "Lord willing." God grant that one day it may be a confident declaration instead of a doubting whisper . . .and in His time, He will.

Currently Playing Lonely Runs Both Ways By Alison Krauss and Union Station see related