Broken Beauty

I had a grip of shimmering sea glass in one hand, and was holding my balance with the other, as a fisherman stumbled by and mumbled, "What are you doing down there?" I replied with a chipper tone that I was looking for sea glass. He looked at me with smirk, and audaciously made some comment about me collecting trash. I took deep offense, as if the comment was personal. I thought about why this was so offensive to me, after all, I didn't create sea glass. Ultimately, sea glass has been an escape for me, and even more importantly, a love letter from God.

I was in Africa for a year. Upon returning I felt out of place, lonely, and misunderstood on a few levels, to say the least. At that time, my good friend Rachel invited me to go "sea glass hunting." We found a few pieces, and I thought that they were amazingly beautiful, especially when they were held up to the light, like sea gems. I regarded these fragments as something that was neat when seen, but nothing that necessarily needed to be sought out. I took my small handful from the day home, placed them on a shelf, and didn't think much about them. But I thought that the experience was calming, and it was pleasing to feel that you have found a rare "treasure" among the various other things the sea offers on the shore.

Later that month, as life (in my eyes) should have settled into "normal", I was irritated that I couldn't find a job, a place to live, or friends in the area. While I was in Africa, my closest friends had gotten married, moved and even had children (it was an eventful year). I felt like I was chasing my tail, not doing anything to get me to that "pinnacle of life".

The beach has always been a sanctuary for me, so I "escaped" a lot along the sandy shores that

year. This particular day, as I walked along the beach, I was honest with God, telling Him that I was angry with the path He has taken me on. I was frustrated that I had given Him my life, and I was feeling beat up, confused, broken, and alone. I remember questioning Him in an agitated tone "Can't you see that I have worked hard to serve you? Why has that left me so lonely and misunderstood? Why has everyone gotten to move one, and I was across the globe? What do you really expect me to do with everything you have shown me and allowed me to experience?" As I was praying this through tears, I looked down, and amidst a pile of gray rocks lied an amazing cobalt blue piece of sea glass. I fell to my knees and realized my answer.

That small piece of broken glass was stunning. It stood out among the rocks and was a treasure not understood my many. That piece at one time was part of a bottle, serving a purpose, and I would have imagined pretty content with being useful and valued. Then, as part of it's journey it's current purpose was finished, and it was broken, beaten, jostled among the waves, and abused for a period of time. It was only after the time of grinding and being tossed among the waves that it's beauty could be revealed. It truly was that, beauty among the rocks.

As I looked down. I felt understood. I felt that God has allowed me my times of being tossed among the waves, only to polish and reveal the character He has intended. At times I am broken and even shattered, but that is the first step to standing out among the rocks of life, revealing His goodness and faithfulness. I looked down and knew that this short time of being uncomfortable and shaken is going to result in a journey better than I could ever dream.

I still have that blue piece of broken glass sitting in my small apartment. I see it, and know that there are many things in this life that will cause me to break and ultimately feel grinded on. It isn't about this imaginary pinnacle, because the journey will always have monstrous waves and grinding sand. It is my His design that we shine from these things. I hope one day I can be as beautiful as that glass was on that day; shining among the gray dullness of this world as an indication of God's grace, love and ultimate faithful design.

My Nutshell, My Sanctuary

Small spaces have always appealed to me. There is something I find comforting about them, like how a rabbit must feel in his perfectly sized tunnel and den. When I was in college, I shared a ten by ten foot space with my best friend......for two years. We later went on to participate in Semester at Sea. We called a small cabin at the bow of the boat "home" for three months. It was literally the smallest on the ship at a measurement of about six by ten feet, (it even caved in at the end due to it's location on the bow of the boat...so probably even smaller than it was indicated to us). Some of our fellow classmates had these extensive rooms, which compared to ours, felt and looked like the Brushard Gardens. I wondered what they did with all that space. They apparently were at a loss as well, because our cabin became the place to hang out that semester. It became a game to see how many people we could fit in that small space, like clowns in a car, or people in a British telephone booth. I think that we topped at 13, with one girl half out into the hallway. Just couldn't get those legs in!
I was thinking about this "small" comfort I have, and realized that there are many legit reasons why small spaces are blessings in disuise, especially in our consumer driven culture. Currently I live in a place that is less than 400 square feet. Although it is small, it has been a blessing beyond words, and my personal sanctuary. Here are the reasons I have come up with, dedicated to the greatness of small living spaces.
1. Obviously, easy to clean! No need for "Saturday Chores". I can knock it out on a school night!
2. Three's a party!
3. No need for surround sound. Walmart speakers to my computer takes care of the whole place! Even the bathroom!
4. One painted accent wall. Done with the painting for anymore would literally be too much.
5. I haven't lost anything in months!
6. Open one window and I have fresh air through the whole place!
7. I can live by myself, 200 feet from the ocean on a teacher's salary.
8. I can hear the waves as I fall asleep (related to 7 I realize, but such a notable blessing)
9. I can hear the teapot whistling over the hair dryer because there isn't much footage between the bathroom and the kitchen.
10. When my canary sings, his varied notes fill the whole place.
11. One lit candle takes care of the ambiance throughout the entire space.
12. Hang clean laundry in the door jam, and it smells great for days.
13. One new house plant rejeuvenates and brings life to the whole space, not just one room.
14. Heater is on for two minutes (literally) and I have a cozy situation!
15. Living room easily converted into my personal yoga studio....especially since I can create a sauna like environment in 5 minutes (thank you wall heater..I love that chunk of metal!)
16. On the contrary, one fan cools the place off....all over!
17. Great singing acoustics, anywhere!
18. I don't spend my money on useless things because the only thought that goes through my mind in the store is, "Where would I really put this?"
19. Not much cabinet space, so my dad put shelves up. Dishes are there which means that I don't even have to open a cabinet for a dish. Handy!
20. I have learned new tricks. Latest is I can do a handstand against the front door, stand back up and spin, then reverse my handstand against the bedroom door. I feel really cool when I do that.
21. I love to be reminded of my blessing when my mom repeatedly asks, "You still like it here?"
22. People are literally speechless when I say the square footage of where I live. That always brings on a little giggle for me.
23. I look at my single miniscule sized closet and can't help but to think, "Gosh, I have a lot of clothes."
24. I wake up in the morning, take two steps and am at the heater, take three more steps and I'm at the stove, turning on the water for my coffee.
25. Learned to cook using the table and chairs as counter space. Again, this makes me feel pretty cool, like a juggling act.
26. Gotten very flexible sitting on the floor when company comes over.
27. My friends see me as resourceful. They reinterated the size of the place when talking to other people, like I can't emphasize it enough by myself. Again, causes a little giggle on my part.
28. Never put off going to the bathroom because I don't want to walk there. Lazy man's palace really.
29. When people under the age of ten come over, it is an amazing attitude shifter. I no longer have any longing for children (this is sheer sarcasm, however, they REALLY fills the place with a remarkable amount of energy).


.....and adding. May God bless my nutshell, my home, my sanctuary with many more benefits, funny stories and opportunities to laugh at the ridiculous things in life.

"Weirder"

I was asked once what body part I like the best about myself. As awkward as that question was, I knew the answer immediately: my feet. My toes are sized right, I have two toe rings that shine beautifully in the ocean and my feet are relatively thin. On those beautiful PMS-ey days where nothing fits right, I'm bloated and broken out, I look at my feet, and I feel slightly better at that small moment. However, my saving grace has been altered. Three months ago I fell out of a yoga pose and landed on my big toe, "flipping" off my toenail. My big toe is now bald and grotesque looking, and this has resulted in some interesting life lessons. One in particular has caused me to look at our human nature's subconscience skill of masking pain and injury, for the sake of looking "normal" (whatever the heck that may be at that present time).

Shortly after parting with my beloved toenail (strange I realize, but I really felt like there was a divide there), I went for a pedicure. Before I sat in the chair, I explained slowly and precisely to the smiling woman, that I did not want my big, bald, injured toe even TOUCHED. She smiled and said, "OhhhhKayyyyy," with a spunky little head nod that made me wonder if she computed what I said. Shortly after, I got my answer as she attempted to accetone the raw skin. So, I explained again, this time with hand gestures. While pointing to my nail-less toe, I said, "This toe....do not touch....please.....DO NOT TOUCH". This time she giggled and said something to her friend in Vietnamese, who also giggled. Now, when this happens on a regular basis, I know they are talking about me, however, my theory is, "Chat away; whatever gets the job done." This time, I wasn't so nonchalant. I was tense throughout the rest of the pedicure. I felt like a helicopter parent over her diabetic child at a birthday party. I had reason to be so, because she whipped out the paint with avengence (I saw it...really!)

As she dipped the paint brush into the ruby red paint, I tensed. She audaciously headed straight for my specified, off limits, bald toe! I swear I saw a determined grin come across her face. I don't know what she thought she was painting. Afterall, it is toeNAIL polish. No nail there lady! I slapped her hand away. I was as startled as she was at my response. I didn't mean to, it was impulse! She said something in Vietnamese to her giggle buddy who came over promptly and said, "We paint. No paint, you look weirder". Through nervous laughs I said, "No, leave it alone. I don't have a toenail and you have nothing there to paint. It is healing!" Apparently this was "weirder" to her because she looked at me cock-headed and said, "We paint skin. We do all time."

After a three minute broken English argument, she surrendered and proceeded to paint 9 toes (with an attitude I will add). I sat in the chair and thought about her last comment, "We do all time". How many people are injured and wounded, and walk around with temporary band-aids to attempt to not look weird? Heaven forbid we are actually ourselves, and let our wounds heal in the sunlight for all to see. Instead we mask the pain and injury, to look "normal" with chemicals and quick fixes, which really prolong our healing time. In addition, we cause more pain on top of the initial pain. (Could you imagine taking nail polish off of an exposed nail bed? Crap!)

Then I thought about if we were all to be true, not pretending to be "alright", what would "normal" really look like? Would there really be a "weird"? What a great world that would be, and how much faster would we all be whole? I realize that there are deeper issues that come with being human than losing a toenail and debating whether or not to paint raw skin, but I state that healing is healing, no matter what is entailed. I claim that being true and staying "raw" will further our cause of finding who we really are as people and helping others as a response.

As I look at my nine painted toes, I realize that this is the genuine of person I long to be. Let me start by publicly stating that I currently hate my feet. They are not pretty, and do not currently offer me any moments of happiness when I am PMSing. But I will not mask it, because I believe the pain will subside, the deformed looking nail bed will go away and the nail will return. It will heal in it's time and for the time being, let the sunshine do it's thing and whoever sees it, so be it. I may be even be able to tell them this story, wouldn't that be stellar?

Furry Royalty

"Pacemakers of the desceased will now be readily available to dogs in need." The newscaster managed to keep a straight face while reading this new medical breakthrough off the tele-prompter. I had a little giggle at the thought of a dog with a pacemaker, and proceeded to finish getting dressed. Then I heard, "The surgery to implant the pacemaker is estimated to be $4,000." I poked my head out, only to see once again, a straight face.

Seriously. I think that it is great to recycle needed medical equipment, and if someone really want to donate to a dog, (which I realize is really the happiness of the pet owner) then so be it. However, I cannot justify $4,000 to make that happen. Where have we gone that we as a population can pour thousands of dollars into an animal, where people are starving on the streets right in our own neighborhood? To each his own, but this new discovery is sheer ridiculous-ness.

Overrated Logic

I have logic. Don't we all have one form or another? We are all still here spinning around on this earth, that has to say something. Survival of the fittest right? Mere scientific fact.
As I have been hanging out with a very logical individual, I have come to question my own way of coming to conclusions. I have never really questioned my thought process, but his seems a little more to the point and therefore, I sheepishly say, slightly more productive.
Last week I flushed a crayfish down the school toilet (former class pet). This resulted in having to call the school clerk to call the janitor, who ripped through my classroom with a plumbing snake right in the middle of science. Sidenote, have you ever talked about the toilet with eight year olds? I don't know why parents bother with toys, just stick them in the bathroom. Apparently they are entertainment to the nth degree; and so is your teacher explaining to the janitor, that she flushed a crayfish carcas and single handedly clogged the school toilet.
Back to logic. To me, I was thinking that this lobster like creature would smell if placed in the trash. Secondly, what damage could I cause on eight year minds who come to school to see their old class pet belly side up among tissues and half eaten pencils. Goodmorning! Thirdly, people flush fish all the time; the old, "Return to the sea," logic. It made sense to me, so "Swoosh!" he went. Or should have gone rather.
I was telling this story to my "logical" friend, and his very calm logical way asked, "Don't they have a hard shell and a pincers?" Well, sure, that is apparent to you, but to some, those synapses just didn't fire. As a result, I was once again a brunt of a joke that I inadvertently created.
I was a little frazzled, because I am on a constant mission to be "smarter", (whatever that really means) and this was not furthering my efforts. But after thinking about it for a little bit, I realized that I have a blast in life, and a lot of my enjoyment in life is because of the idiotic things I do as a result of the logic I have (or lack...green grass right?)
I have reasons for the things that I constantly do and the decisions I make. I find a comfort in that, for that is what makes me me and gives me my often times wacked out stories. Another perspective, is that in the "Story Olympics" I will lap a traditionally "logical" person. My logic has taught me to laugh, understand others and walk around giggling to myself. You can have your "smart" logic. I'll keep mine, and when I think I need yours, I'll find some logical way of getting it.

Where's my car?

"Do you love the earth?"
"Yes"
"Then can you sign my petition for prop. (whatever, whichever)
"No."
The man's face dropped like he was actually surprised. Why can't these corporations find ways to promote their cause that isn't so obtrusive? Here's the laughable part, the part that makes for the "green grass". These young kids who make dollars for signatures hung their coats on the easel provided by the establishment. The same easel that held a sign saying, "Trader Joe's supports distraction free shopping." Apparently they suppoort the backpacks and the coats of the kids providing the distraction free shopping.

Bliss

Bliss. I am feeling the sheer happiness I couldn’t find for years. True to my bones and blessed euphoria. I do not think that there is any connection to any particular event or life situation, just came on one day. I have been blessed enough to ride out this euphoria for a few months now. The only thing that I have come up with is that it was another “wait” situation from above.

Would I be able to recognize this euphoria, if not given years of confusion and depression? I do not think that it would be euphoric, maybe just pleasant. Maybe God in all His infinite wisdom decided that I needed a while of sadness in order to truly appreciate happiness. Strangest thing is that I have no idea why now.

Don’t get me wrong. I am hands down pleased and by no means mentioning this as a means of more confusion. I am pleasantly euphoric.

I have thought a lot about this new happiness and have come to two conclusions. For one, it is an answer to prayer. It was a long awaited answer, but it’s an answer none the less. An answer I waited a few years for because God knows I didn’t like the “wait” answer. I was waiting for the “yes, you can be happy where you are now,” answer.

Secondly, (and oddly), I have always had it on my heart to write a book. I enjoy writing, mostly for it gives a destination for all the wacked out thoughts that run circles in my head. However, I knew that as long as I was not “happy”, I was honestly in no position to write.

I saw an Opera episode a while back where she interviewed a beautiful girl struggling with anorexia. The girl mentioned that she wanted to write a book. Opera got all Opera irate on her and passionately told the girl that she had to get better before she even thought about writing a book. I never really knew why that stuck in my mind, but it really stayed with me. I was not in a position to write a book when my heart was stuck in “waiting” mode and my mind in longing and depression.

So back to secondly (and oddly). I prayed for contentment. I know what I want in life and I know where I want it. I have been given an amazing gift of contentment through years of waiting, and here is my thank you. I will start to write and share of the journey that is yet to be completed.

I thought that the happiness would come when I had great job, was out of debt and of course was not alone anymore because I was always with the man God has created for me. Well, none of that has happened, and here I am writing anyway. Funny. I thought I would have those three things before I talked about my journey through waiting. But ironically enough, I am still there, but content in life.

Not to get all Christian cliché, but just to give credit where it is due, it’s all God. So I guess I am going to set out on a little journey of writing about waiting and the things I have learned along the way. I am writing about waiting, while still waiting for the things I have always waited for. Yes, that would be right. Not the order I ever planned, let alone even making sense in my human mind.

I don’t have the “answers” ( whatever that may be), just a slew of strange situations, obscene, rude and oddly inappropriate comments and of course multiple ways of dealing with the infamous question, “Why are you single?” This journey has not come at a time in my life I thought it would, but as you will see, a lot of the things I have experienced do not come in my timing. Apparently God and I are really off on our understanding of appropriate timing.

If I would stand in front of Him today I would have a line of questions. Asking Him why he couldn’t line us up on this timing issue is currently sandwiched between “What’s up with my miserable skin?” and, “I truly praise you and thank you for your timing, because I am fully aware I am living the journey.”

That is why I write.