Looking for Abundance

We went to St. Thomas a few weeks ago. After our year of layoffs, financial disaster, and crisis, anxiety, the trip was like a long, cool drink of water after being in the desert for 9 months.

I felt guilty going. I added up all of the money we’d be out because we weren’t working during that week. Plus, even though we were staying with friends, who were also paying for half of our airfare, I still wondered whether or not we should be spending any money on leisure, since we still have some debt to pay off.

At the same time, we were exhausted. Burned out from scrambling to come up with money, with looking for work, for not blaming each other and trying to keep our marriage from derailing, like many marriages do in the midst of financial crisis. I was tired of trying to keep it all together. Of worrying about money. About beating myself up that we were even in this situation.

For six months, I've had a great gig at an agency. David has been working three part-time jobs. We're paying down chunks of debt. We have a little breathing room, even though we still don't feel totally secure. But I'm coming to the conclusion that maybe we’ll never feel totally secure, and that's okay.

So, in a moment of weakness, when David announced that he had found cheap flights to Puerto Rico, and that we could fly free from Puerto Rico to St. Thomas and then stay with friends while there, I told him to book the flights.

As the date for our vacation drew nearer, and I started adding up in my head how much more money I could make if I worked that week, I started feeling more and more ambivalent about our vacation.

Should we take time off work? What would other people think, knowing we were recently unemployed and now we're jetting off to St. Thomas?

I talked to my dad the night before we left, and told him how I was feeling.

“Oh, you’re just like me” he said. “Remember, we never took vacations. It was work, work work.”

“Just go and have fun!” my dad said.

So we did.

I embraced what I considered a gift, thankful that David and I were able to go on a trip. A trip that we couldn’t afford without generous friends.

Abundance.

I've always had trouble with that concept. For me, I think I've lived out of a place of depravation -- always seeing what I don't have, and concluding that I don't deserve good things. I could spend years in the therapist's office trying to figure out why. But in the meantime, I'm discovering that abundance isn't about how much you do or don't have, but a way of seeing, and knowing what to look for.

I'm discovering that I tend to miss the true abundance in my life because I'm looking for it in all the wrong places. I moan because I don't have a big house, or a child, or enough free time to write. But in the meantime, I'm missing what's there. Abundance may come in smaller packages. In the breakfast my husband cooks for me, or the job filled with nice people and challenging work that helps me pay the mortgage. The girlfriends who call me for coffee, and evenings curled up with my cat by the fireplace.

When I really think about it, my life is overflowing with abundance.

The night we arrived on St. Thomas, our friends took us out for dinner. Then David and I collapsed in bed after a long day of travel, and after a long year of financial stress. I felt my body melt into the bed, and into my husbands body as I curled up next to him. I heard the tree frogs chirping outside, and the faint sound of the ocean waves. A warm sea breeze gently blew through the windows.

"We’re in paradise." I said. “Huh?” David grunted, as he was drifting off to sleep.

“We’re in paradise” I said again. But by then he was out, and I was left to my thoughts.

Maybe this coming year will bring more abundance. I will look for it. And for grace, in the small things. Maybe it will be in a child joining our family. If not, then maybe grace will take another form.

I've already seen how the past year has brought good things. David and I have grown closer because we have weathered the storm together. We have grown closer to family and friends, because we were forced to be vulnerable about our struggles. Our priorities were shocked into the proper order.

During the next year, I have faith that God will give me more than I could ever ask or think.... and I vow to keep my eyes open to see it.

Things of Beauty

Fyodor Dostoevsky once said "Beauty can Save the World."

I know in some ways it saved me during this past year. I'm relieved 2009 is over. I'm sure many people feel like that. Layoffs, financial disaster, unemployment, foreclosures. We were in the midst of that. In the middle of my months-long unemployment (even though I now have a long-term contract position, I don't yet have a fulltime job. But I thank God daily for work.), I had to literally live day-to-day: "Today we have enough to eat. Today we still have a home. Today was have warm clothes." Every time I looked a few months down the road, I would panic, wondering if our money would run out, or how long the unemployment would last.

Our struggles pale in comparison to the suffering I see in Haiti today. We're not wandering the streets looking for loved ones who are trapped in collapsed buildings. We're not wondering whether the Red Cross will deliver enough water. We're not stepping over dead bodies in the streets. I can't imagine....

Yet, in the context of my comparably comfortable world, I don't want to discount our pain. I can acknowledge it while knowing some people have far worse suffering. It is still difficult to wonder what the future will bring. Whether or not we will ever adopt a child, whether or not we will have regular work. To possibly let some dreams die.

At night, during this past year, I would crawl into bed and read. It's my favorite time of the day. The day is done. Work is done. Now I get to read beautiful words.

Kathleen Norris, one of my favorite authors, at one point in her life replaced religion for poetry. The beauty of the words and ideas were enough transcendence for her. Faith in poetry was the only faith she needed. While she ended up going back to church and finding God again, I can relate to her feelings.

Not all books are transcendent. But a few I read this year have been. And not just books. Art, architecture, relationships. When things seem especially difficult, the beauty in this world, in contrast, stands out in relief, as if to say, "Hey, look over here! Don't miss this!"

So here's my list of Things of Beauty 2009:

Elizabeth Strout, author "Olive Kitteridge" (winner of Pulitzer Prize)

Olive Kitteridge is one of the best books I've read in years. Olive Kitteridge is a collection of short stories held together by the character of Olive Kitteridge who appears in most of them. The second chapter, "Incoming Tide" as a stand-alone short story rates up there with the best of Flannery O'Connor, in my humble opinion.



Richard Rohr, another author I discovered this year. In the midst of my layoff, his book "Everything Belongs" helped me to make sense of it. He writes:

"In God's reign, everything belongs, even the broken and poor parts."

And:

"We are at a symbolic disadvantage as a wealthy culture. Jesus said that the rich man or woman will find it hard to understand what he is talking about. The rich can satisfy their loneliness and longing in false ways, in quick fixes that avoid the necessary learning. In terms of soul work, we dare not get rid of the pain before we have learned what it has to teach us. That's why the poor have a head start. They can't resort to an instant fix to any problem: aspirin, a trip, or some entertainment. They remain empty whether they want to or not."



The Modern Wing at the Art Institute. Thank you, Renzo Piano.




Sailing on Lake Michigan on a gorgeous fall afternoon.



Kitka: Sanctuary, a Cathedral Concert. I sing in an all-women's Nordic Choir. My friend, Nell, from the choir, introduced me to the music of Kitka. Thanks Nell!



My niece's wedding. She lived in an orphanage in China until she was 8. Now she has a college degree and a wonderful husband. Her life is a beautiful story.




Our "Open Mic" Christmas Eve. My talented nephews read poetry, played the violin, guitar, piano, to give us a glimpse of beauty on the night we celebrated Christ's birth.



Songs in Haiti. I heard a news report about how the night after the earthquake, as people were on the streets, their homes destroyed, the Haitians started singing, and their songs continued through the night. Out of ashes comes beauty. Or, as the poet Rumi writes, "Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure."

My prayer is that the people of Haiti will find beauty and treasure in the midst of ruin. And that in some small way, it will save them.

Welcome to 2010

My poor, poor Blog. I have left it neglected and abandoned. And in the neglect of my blog, I feel I have let a little bit of my voice has died.

I must admit, I started having a love/hate relationship with blogging. After doing it for 4 years, I felt a little burned out, like the well had dried up, and I didn't know why I was doing it anymore. I think in this era of "social networking" and blogging, we (or I) often feel like I'm not significant or maybe I don't even exist if I'm not being heard in the cyber-world. So, I think I was rebelling against that feeling, and I sub-consciously thought, "what would happen if I just stopped it all? Would people still like me? Would I spend more time doing things that seem more significant? Would I still exist?"

Well, I'm still here. Now that I've proven that I can exist without blogging, I'm yearning to get back to it. I think it's a natural desire to be heard. To tell stories. We all do this in different ways. And as a writer, I guess one way I can do that is to keep blogging.

I miss that connection I have with my handful of readers. I miss the small opportunity to express myself and tell my story. I miss writing something other than website copy. I guess I just miss this outlet.

So I've decided to start blogging again, and see what happens.

So here's to 2010. David and I are both working again. Compared to a year ago, we are very thankful. But if it's one thing I've learned in the past year, it's that "security" is a very slippery thing. Jobs come and go. Bank accounts can be depleted in an instant. Things that we tend to count on -- like a good economy, a stable government, always being able to find work -- we have discovered we can't really rely on. But when all else is crumbling around me, my faith grows. My perspective clears. My priorities get re-aligned.

2009 was hard, but I'm grateful for the way my soul has expanded. Part of me wants 2010 to be easier and more comfortable, with more financial success and less trauma. But what will I miss out on if that happens?

Theology of Surprises

Many of you have read my posts about my growing obsession with my Beloved Community from Old St. Pats. Love these people.

Anyway, I attended a dinner last night and Terry-Nelson Johnson, the spiritual formation guy at Old St Pats spoke about the Theology of Surprise.

Basically, in a nutshell, it's what happens when you say to yourself, "This is NOT what I expected!"

That's what I say about my life pretty much every day. This is not what I expected.

But just when life is not what you expect is when God can surprise you. Good things can happen. Just not what you expect.

And surprised are often difficult, but full of grace.

Like a job loss. Not what I expected. But filled with good things like getting to spend more time with my husband. Feeling like I can finally follow some of my dreams because, really, I have nothing more to lose. Finally getting out from under the 9-5 cubicle grind.

So are we open to these surprises?

Often, I must admit, I am not. I want security. I want to know the rest of the story. I want predictability.

I must discipline myself to be open to surprise. To let go of my illusion of control (because, really, it IS just an illusion), and the arrogance that I've "been there, done that."

I want to be open to living differently. To taking the side route. Not letting the feeling that "all surprises have passed me by" become reality.

There's new life coming....there's new possibility....something new can happen if we are only available, vulnerable, open, and humble.

God joins us in our chaos. He's with us in the surprises that are difficult but full of grace.

Amen.

What's going on?

Looking at my number of blog posts for the past few months, I'm averaging about one a month. That's pathetic! I'm not sure why I'm not posting more. I guess it's because I think no one will want to hear about my rants about my lack of work, our lack of money, or this stinking economy.

It's a scary time, people....I don't know if anyone else is feeling it like we are, but it's frightening to think that we don't know what the future holds. I've always had the feeling that if I lost my job, or the freelance work wasn't coming in, I'd be able to make it by temping or working at Starbucks. But with so many people out of work, even those jobs are hard to come by.

But we are thankful for the little work that we do have. David is freelancing, and working part time at a counseling practice (although it will be a while before he builds up his client base...), and I just landed a website project that will keep me busy for a few weeks.

Every day I see things that make me grateful for what David and I have: A roof over our heads. Food. The work that is trickling in. We have friends and family and each other.

In Chicago, we always see homeless people begging at intersections. They wait for the light to turn red, and then they walk in between the two rows of stopped cars with a cardboard sign that reads "Homeless and hungry, please help" or something like that. Most of the time you see the same people at the same intersections. It's hard to know what to do. Once, I was eating a sandwich in my car and one of these beggars looked into my car longingly. I handed him the untouched half of my sandwich, and he stuffed it into his mouth. Other times, I give money. And sometimes, I just look away and pretend not to notice them outside my car window. It's hard -- I've heard that you're never supposed to give homeless people cash because they may spend it on drugs or alcohol.

I've noticed lately that different sorts of people are begging at these intersections. They're not the typical homeless men with dirt-caked jeans and mismatched shoes, who feign a limp to elicit sympathy. The other day I saw a 30-ish middle-eastern woman who was holding a picture of her three children. She was clean and had a desperate look on her face. I had no money with me, otherwise I would have give her the entire contents of my wallet.

At least we have food. And while I'm frustrated that our adoption is on hold until we find steady work, in some ways I'm grateful we don't have three children to feed.

When you feel uncertain about the future, it forces you to focus on today. On this moment. I will go crazy if I think months down the road. I'm just living day to day, and as scripture says:

"For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?"

I've always been a worrier. And there are times when I still wake up in the middle of the night and think of all of the Worst Case Scenarios: What if we don't find steady work? What will happen if we run out of money? What if the economy doesn't turn around soon?

But slowly, I'm learning to let go of that worry and just focus on today. And maybe that's the lesson I'm supposed to learn through all of this.....

More graduations!

Last weekend I attended my niece, Claire's high school graduation. She was valevictorian of her class. As you can tell, she didn't get her smarts from her aunt Karen, seeing as I don't even know how to spell "valevictorian." I think there's a "d" in there somewhere.....

She wrote a lovely, very mature speech that had to do with not judging people on how they seem on the outside, and that it's never too late to pursue your dreams. I hope she remembers it when she's my age. I hope I can remember it as I sit in front of my computer screen and wonder if I'll ever eeeek out a well-written novel.

I saw her writing notes on the backs of her graduation photos to give to her friends, and remember doing the same thing. These gorgeous and talented young men and women who are her friends have their whole lives ahead of them. College! Oh, what a fun and special time when your whole world is opened up. I remember leaving a philosophy class one day feelings like I was on drugs -- the euphoria was that great. And leaving chapel after hearing an inspired speaker and feeling like I could change the world.

Now, 20-some odd years later, after reality has smacked me in the face more than once, I still have those feelings once in a while. I wish I had them more often. But that doesn't mean that life isn't fulfilling and beautiful and adventurous. It's just that it looks a little different than it did on the college campus when I was wearing Izod polo shirts, a plaid skirt, knee socks and loafers (okay, it was the preppy era). Growing up means realizing you have more limitations than you think you have, and you discover that you may not be able to change the world, but you can change your small little part of it. And maybe you're not going to be a famous novelist, but the small things you write will maybe speak into the life of one person. And that's enough.

You also discover that maybe God needs to change you before you can change the world. You need to learn how to love better, and give better, and be more kind and less self-centered.

These are not easy lessons. But opening yourself up to them brings great rewards and fulfillment. And not learning them will lead to a small life of self-absorption and bitterness. Who wants that?

I wish I could tell my nieces and nephews all of the lessons I've learned in the past 20 years. I wish I could spare them the difficulties in life. But they will have to learn their own lessons, in their own ways.

My advice to them is to:

Not let fear keep you from love, or the work you love, or the adventures you want to pursue.

Keep your eyes open for grace. You'll find it in the most unexpected places and times.

Learn how to love unselfishly.

Remember that treasures will be found in the midst of ruin.

Don't live someone else's dream.

The most important thing -- even more than being successful or smart -- is waking up every morning and wondering who you're going to love that day.

Oh, there's so much more. But these are all lessons that will be learned through living your life. So just be open to them.

Oh, and don't forget to keep hoping, even when it seems like there is no hope.

That's the most important one.

Spring = Hope

I love Spring. It's filled with sighs of relief that we survived winter, and we can once again venture outside and enjoy the weather. Here in Chicago, Lake Michigan lures us with its wide open beaches and sparkling blue water reaching to the horizon. Flowers bloom, skies clear, the sun makes an appearance on more days than not, we go outside without jackets or socks, and we celebrate. We acknowledged my birthday on May 16 (I'm not sure I 'celebrate' birthdays anymore), and in our family, we're celebrating graduations, engagements and new chapters.

My niece, LiJen graduated from Anderson University a few weeks ago. She also got engaged to a really nice boy named Josh who she met in China last summer. We love Josh. He fits right into our family.












Next week I'm flying to Ohio to attend my niece, Claire's high school graduation. She'll be coming to Chicago in the fall to attend Wheaton (yipee!). Her big brother Drew is graduating from Princeton in a few weeks, and then he's on his way to teach in China.

Then, David graduates from Northwestern June 20. (double yipee!). He already has some counseling work lined up, so his new career is off and running. And I just finished my first book the day before my birthday.....

With birthdays, graduations, flowers, blue skies, warm weather, new books and chapters, Spring is most of all about hope. That there is beauty and celebration after the long hard winter. That there is work after layoffs. That one starts down an exciting new career path after the hard work of school. That a beautiful little girl who started her life in an orphanage turns into a gorgeous young woman with a college degree and a terrific fiance.

Like I said: I love Spring.