Post Secret

I've been trying to find the words to write about this site for awhile now, but they never seem to be sufficient enough. There is so much loneliness and so much sadness on each of the postcards. Some make me want to cry for all the lost innocence that people have endured throughout their lives. Some make me laugh because of their honesty and some make me fear for the anonymous lives that are in the balance. There is something so dark and so real and so...human about what I see on the site. I just read them, not to be a voyeur, but to understand more of the human condition and the pain that so many of us feel.

There are times when the postcards hit a little too close to home - as if someone is reading my thoughts and speaking out loud the hidden parts of my soul. There are times when I just don't understand what would make someone do something like that and times when I wonder if there is enough joy in the world to compensate for all the evil and all the hurt.

I applaud every soul brave enough to be bared on PostSecret. There is something to beautiful about being willing to be real. I hope those that are searching find their answers and that those that are lost find their way. I hope and pray for the depth and peach and love so many seem to need so much.

On a Lighter Note

Wow, this blog has gotten serious in the last several weeks--I guess that's just where my life is right now. While I still have a lot on my mind and am still struggling with some stuff, I thought I would lighten the mood a little bit. Here are some random snippets of my dreams from the last several nights...

Liz found a super cool pair of baby blue silk pj bottoms with bright yellow rubber duckies on them and uttered her trademark "shut your face!" (I would like to point out that I don't think I have ever actually been SAYING anything when I was the recipient of this comment!)

I was at the pet store in the mall looking at fish (the last place I would probably ever really buy a fish). Suddenly, across the aisle, there was a huge Old Navy with all of their "Finding Nemo" giant stuffed animals on sale. Now, does Old Navy really sell giant "Finding Nemo" stuffed animals? I think not... ANYWAY...I run across to look at them and a man with a giant monkey puppet attacks me!

Tom, our Senior minister at SOCC, gave the sermon from last Sunday (which was titled "Dear Abba, Why Do You Allow Evil to Exist") while wearing a clown costume circa 1975.

A runaway dumpster wrecks havoc in the parking lot at church while we are inside rehearsing a drama that has something to do with all my time in CSF. No fewer than 8 cars are totally demolished by the errant dumpster.

Back at the pet store, I can't find a fish I like, but I leave with a yummy chef salad...

Tim breaks an aquarium to get a fish he likes, but then the fish bites his nose and he crashes into a display of horrid smelling candles, which clears out the mall.

Those are the funny ones, anyway. I've had some sad dreams this week, as well, but those will wait for a later time...anyway, those are just the snippets I remember at 9:11 a.m. I seriously would be entertained to spend some time with a 'dream expert' because I'm pretty sure the only diagnosis they would give me is that I'm just plain crazy. Oh well...I hope something above made you smile. I'm sure there's another 'deep' blog forming...in fact, I'm positive. Maybe tomorrow...or later today...

Which Piece am I?

One picture puzzle piece
Lyin' on the sidewalk,
One picture puzzle piece
Soakin' in the rain.
It might be a button of blue
On the coat of the woman
Who lived in a shoe.
It might be a magical bean,
Or a fold in the red

Velvet robe of a queen.
It might be the one little bite
Of the apple her stepmother
Gave to Snow White
.It might be the veil of a bride
Or a bottle with some evil genie inside.
It might be a small tuft of hair
On the big bouncy belly
Of Bobo the Bear.
It might be a bit of the cloak
Of the Witch of the West
As she melted to smoke.
It might be a shadowy trace
Of a tear that runs down an angel's face.
Nothing has more possibilities
Than one old wet picture puzzle piece.

Yes, I gave the blog a face-lift today. It seemed to need something. The old format, though beautiful, had lately reminded me of the storms blowing in my own life. So, something a little brighter, but with just as much symbolism, was in order...and so now, there are puzzle pieces. There may be a new color and a new title, but the story on the page is still very much my own; my struggles, my fears, my insecurities...as well as my hopes, my dreams, and my faith.

I have always been drawn to puzzles. From wintry Christmas vacations in my childhood (when we were still allowed to call in Christmas vacation) to a recent sermon series, I have found myself somehow in sync with the randomness of a puzzle. Liz and I have talked often about our piece of the puzzle and where we fit...and how we would like to know the final picture, but just don't, at least not yet.

I carry a piece of a puzzle in my purse. It's dark blue and has a streak of pink and yellow lightning across it; it was part of a devotion about how "nothing has more possibilities than one picture puzzle piece" from the Shel Silverstein poem above. It's a nice reminder sometimes that my life, from beginning to end, is really nothing more than just one little puzzle piece. I am so grateful for that, and feel so blessed to even be part of the story, muchless have my own piece that only I can have!

The sun has been shining and I feel a little better about life this week. There is something inside me that is still deeply unsettled, but I am getting to a point where I am either content with the disturbance or pretending it's not there. I haven't decided which, yet.

Hundreds of Questions

Have you ever felt like maybe you knew something, deep down inside, that you didn't want to put words to? Have you ever felt like naming something, voicing something, speaking something...that it would make it real? Have you ever wondered exactly what an infant thinks and sees when they look into your eyes? Have you ever wanted nothing more than to cry out "I'm scared" but knew that it wouldn't matter in the long run? Has your journal ever turned into something with a life of it's own? Have you ever wondered if you can wonder too much about somethings? Have you ever felt invisible? Have you ever felt insignificant? Have you ever felt taken advantage of?

Have you ever felt?

What are the deepest fears in your heart? Have you ever told anyone your darkest secret? Do you ever silently wish for something and know at the same time it's not what you really want? Do you ever trust too much? Do you ever not trust enough? Do you ever really learn to live? Do you ever really learn to let go?

What would you do if it was all gone tomorrow? What would you change if you could? Would you change at all? Would you grieve? Would you laugh? Would you risk? Would you care? Who would miss you if you were gone? Who would you leave behind?

Who knows your secrets? Who knows your fears? Who knows your hopes and your dreams and your laughs and your tears? Who knows you? Would you still love if it meant it might hurt? How long will you wait before you let yourself believe again? Did you know there was pain in the world? Did you know there was evil and there would be hurt? Did you know your tears would fall like rain? Would you do it again if you had to? Would you do it again if you didn't have to?

What does it take to move forward? What keeps you standing behind? What is it that you're hiding? That you're not showing? That you're not feeling?

Who would you share your secret with?

And Another Thing

I really want to go on a trip. Somewhere fun. Somewhere that's not too hot and not too cold. I'm ready for a change of scenery and a change of pace. I want to go with family. I want to go with friends.

I just want to go!

Singin' In The Rain

Okay, so I'm not singing and it's not raining...yet...but somehow it seemed like an appropriate title for this post. I am starting to write not knowing what will come out, but hopeful that this weekend will be better than last and next week will be better than this. I got an email from my friend Jenny last night right before I left. I read it somehow changed me. It released me from a bit of the cloud I have been under, and I think it was because she reminded me that it was okay to hurt for my church and okay to be angry. Not that I haven't heard that from all the people in my life this last couple weeks, but there was something about the way she said it. It just made me feel better. So thanks, Ms. Mott, for everything! I told Tim last night that I had to shake this depression...this sadness...and he agreed. I don't know how to do that, because I'm not totally sure what all is 'wrong,' but I'm feeling a little more rested today and a little more optimistic that today will be a better day. (and some of it has been already...some, much the same)

In other news, it's Friday the 13th and a day most of Southern Indiana has been dreading for quite some time. It's D-Day for the Pentagon's list of base closures, and Crane was on that list. This is not just a base, it is the basis of the economy for many parts of Southern Indiana. With over 4,000 workers on site, plus the people in the surrounding area that are boosted by the Crane employees, we were looking at potential disaster for our economy. The list is out and Crane is safe. They could still loose almost 700 employees, but overall Indiana is set to actually gain jobs. I'm not sure how that works, but it's a relief. One piece of stress that can be eliminated.

I am going to go tonight and look at fish to 'replace' Creamsicle and Gandalf. Two fish is not enough in my tank. I was set to look last night, but then ran out of energy and really just wanted to just relax and try and figure out what is wrong with my stomach. Tonight, time and patience permitting, I will go look for more fish. I hate that so many have died, but I do think I do a good job of trying to make them happy and well. I love them, and that has to count for something.

Tim leaves for Europe in about 10 days. I am excited for him, jealous of him, and anxious about that, as well...

Sleep Without Rest

I have been sleeping through the night the last several days. That is unusual for me. I usually wake up three or more times a night, for various reasons. That has not been the case this week. I have been sleeping until around 6:30 without waking up, but I still am not feeling rested at all. I think my body succeeds in shutting down, but I don't think I'm getting the kind of sleep I need to actually renew my body and feel refreshed in the morning. It's strange. I've gotten A LOT of sleep, and have no energy to show for it.

I think, like everyone else around here right now, I am a little depressed, and that is part of the problem. And I'm dreaming a lot, as well. Last night I had a lot of dreams, but they all involved fights and conflict in one way or another. That can't be healthy. Then again, most of the dreams I do remember are the same way--a lot of conflict, fear, flight, and fight...I rarely remember the really "good" dreams, that's for sure. This morning, for instance, I woke up with a deep sense of being anxious and dreading...something...and I think I felt it the whole time I slept. No peace there, that's for sure. So, I fall asleep early and wake up feeling like I haven't slept! I need to shake this, whatever it is!

I feel the need to write about something positive, because I know there are good things going on in the world and good things going on in my life; even though right now the dark spots are much more obvious. So, because I feel like I need to add a little levity to these last few blog entries, I will end this one with this thought:

I love Sesame Street Vitamins. I know they're intended for little kids, but I love them. And I've been much better at taking my vitamins since I bought the Sesame Street Chewables a couple weeks ago. Whatever makes me happy, right?

RIP Creamsicle & Gandalf

Creamsicle died this morning. He was my favorite fish. I got him, along with Billy, right after Tim got me the tank. I'm not sure why he died; it was totally out of the blue. Two days ago he started acting really strange and now he's gone. I hope the two remaining fish, Billy & Gorbie, are okay while I'm gone so much the next couple of days. It makes me very sad, I'll be honest. I know they're 'just' fish, but I love the fun little things. They're hilarious and they're the perfect pet for me. I don't know what happened.

Gandalf, my silver birthday fish, also died over the weekend. He was very small and had an unfortunate habit of getting stuck on the filter. I think we should get bigger fish next time. Ones that aren't so small, that's for sure.

I am not giving up on the fish, I am just sad. It's a little thing, but with all the other things going on this week, it makes me very sad...very sad. The pathetic thing is that I'm a good fish-keeper. I check their water and test it for all the various factors--pH, nitrates, nitrites, etc...and everything checked out.

Poor fish. I hope they're happier now. I will miss them. (And, yes, I'm getting a little misty-eyed thinking about it!)

The Rain is Blowing In

I've sat and worked and watched the sky go from sunny and blue to a strange yellow-grey, and I know a storm is blowing in to little ol' Bloomington. Weather-wise, it's just part of living here. Emotion-wise, the storm has been blowing, and blowing hard, for awhile. The last week has been...to be frank...hell. I think I have succeeded in feeling every emotion known to man since last Tuesday. I have been sorrowful, angry, just plain upset, joyful, pessamistic, optimistic, worried, scared, unsure, lost, hopeful...basically everything on the little magnet on my fridge. It's so hard to put into words what I feel.

I cannot understand how people could claim to be Christians and then say some of the things they said. There was a mean and hurtful note in the offering today. I know, because it is my job to count the offering. And the note made me angry to the point of, had there been a name, I would have called them up and called them out about their hypocritical attitude. You cannot claim to be a Christian and then be evil and vindictive while sitting in the freaking pew on Sunday morning! I am honestly to the point where i just want to say, you know what, if you don't like something, LEAVE. No one is making you stay here and this church is not just about you and your 65 year old preferences.

Stuff like what has happened here in the last week makes me think about a speaker we had at the E-Conference the first (and only) year it happened. He is a minister at a huge church, Ginghamsburg, and basically took the old people in his congregation aside and said, "Would you rather hear the music you like or see your grandchildren come to know God?" It was such an amazing observation. And, they must have taken it to heart, because they church exploded with growth and is modern and amazing and doesn't conform to the stereotype of what 'church' should be like.

I know, some will argue, this was not about style. And, they're probably right, it wasn't JUST about style, but don't even try to tell me that didn't play a part. The people that complain the loudest are the people that don't like it when there is a beat, a drum, or a guitar onstage.

Between that, Phil V leaving, and just being worried and stressed about my church, my job, and my future, I am exhausted. Maybe that's why I haven't felt rested. I don't know. Suddenly even the things I thought were secure I'm afraid of losing.

I will try and have a less bitter, more upbeat post in the near future.

In the meantime, please pray for my church, for the Phil C and Phil V family, for the leadership here, and for my own peace. We here at SOCC can use all the prayers we can get right now.

Sometimes I Don't Understand

This has been a week of...feeling...there has been so much going on and I feel like I have felt every possible feeling allowed to humanity this week. My heart has been heavy. That is often the case when a friend is going through a hard time. When you love someone and they are hurting, you hurt, too. At least I know that's how I am. That's how Liz is, as well. I feel her pain and her sadness. Not in that just understand kind of way, but it makes my bones hurt. I cannot pretend to know the depth of what she's feeling, but I am grateful that God has allowed me to feel some of what she feels and to do my best to understand...

...and things at the church have been rough this week. There has been a feeling...and undercurrent of something going on just below the surface for a long time. I have felt it. Others have felt it. And we have all been holding our breath and wondering what would happen. The current overflowed this week, and there are going to be some huge changes at the church. I trust our leadership; I know they are Godly men who make no decision lightly and they are strong men who 'lean not on their own understanding' but I still cannot pretend that I understand what has happened. I don't know. It doesn't make sense, and it makes me heart even heavier. I think of the men on our eldership and know that God raised them up specifically for this time and this place and the decisions they would have to make this year. And, I trust that. I just don't get it.

There are so many little things I have learned through the course of my time here. The most important has been an understanding of passion and what it really means to love and worship God. I have learned that it's more than just music, more than just a song to sing and a good voice; that worship is really a lifestyle choice. Worship means giving God everything and praising Him for the life that he has given you. Worship is passion. Worship is love. Worship is adoration.

Worship Is.

And there are several people who taught me bits of that truth during the last 8 years. The LeMaster's taught me the basics. Rachael and Rene helped me with those first few steps. In college, it was people like Paul and Abigail, Liz and Jenny, Tristan and Mike and Eric--they all showed me different pieces of the Worship puzzle. But after college, after the safety of CSF and the bubble of faith I lived in, there was church. There was solid preaching and understanding, to be sure. There was communion and offering and all the 'things' that a good service has...and there was Phil. Phil, who loves God so much, who trusts God so much, who believes God so much...and who is completely unafraid to let that love show through everything he does. He's an amazingly talented and gifted musician and a worship leader that I admire. He wears his heart on his keyboard, and his God is glorified with every note he plays.

Phil taught me about passion for God. He trusted me and told me that my creative heart was a gift given by God and should be used for Him. He let me explore my creative side in worship and trusted me to write, to perform, and to be who God created me to be. I don't know that he ever knew it, but his trust and his reaching out to me to help with the gathering service brought me to a new level spiritually. Suddenly I understood that worship wasn't just about music. Sure, I had heard that before, but it actually sunk in. And when I said we should talk about other ways to worship, he laid aside his music hat for a moment and agreed with me.

Phil loves God and his family so much. He has changed more lives in the five years that he has been here than he probably will ever know. He's dealt with his share of criticism, but has stepped up to the plate and boldy went forward with the call on his heart. The result has been two great worship CD's, amazing outreach events, progression in worship, and people coming to know God more. I hope to be able to tell him the impact he has had on my life, but know it will be hard to do without tears coming. And soon he will be gone, no longer a minister at the church here...and, like I said, I don't understand...and don't know that I ever will.

And that was just Tuesday morning.

Tuesday afternoon, another punch was thrown. The other Phil that is a minister is leaving in July to go to a church in Colorado. I am excited for him and happy for his family, but that just makes my heart a little heavier. He is a great, strong man who just wants more people to come close to God and know Him more. I will talk more about him soon. I have just begun to process this all...

My heart is heavy for my friends and the different but deeply personal losses they are dealing with right now. My heart is heavy because I love them all and want to heal them, but know that I am not the Healer they need. My heart aches because there is pain and sadness that comes with growing and changing.