3rd day

Today, I didn’t wake up with a start. I kept hearing the alarm going on and on in my sleep. I kept dreaming of missing appointments because I’d overslept. Of course, I did oversleep and when I eventually awoke I had to choose between exercise and more of the Song of Solomon. I chose the Song because belatedly, I realize that it is about a relationship. I can learn something from Solomon and his Shulammite. They might have gazed in each others eyes but their elegant similes and metaphors demonstrated that they were never at a loss for words. This Shulammite lady might not have had time for spa treatments as she was busy tending her brothers’ vineyards. She was fully aware that she could not compete with the grooming of the elegant daughters of Jerusalem. Notwithstanding these adverse circumstances, she did not assume inferior status although she was being courted by the greatest king on earth. She conceded that Solomon was handsome, pleasant and rich but went on to declare that she was the rose of Sharon, the lily of the valley. Twenty first century women claim gender equality but few have the confidence to accept their body with its flaws and so confidently claim their strengths.

I may never have cheated nor sought to wrong folk. My friends describe me as wise and giving but can I use these qualities to define me during a courtship? On the contrary, like so many women I down play my strengths and hope that my helplessness will make the fellow feel more secure. Dishonesty with good intent underpins too many relationships.

I certainly learnt about partnering in relationships today from a lady , over 2000 years old, who lived in another place and culture. She humbles me by her knowledge of self and affirmation of her feelings. She knew that she was worthy to be loved and Solomon, a connoisseur of women was bewitched by her. He proved his wisdom in choosing her above the daughters of Jerusalem. Of course, Solomon was the wisest man ever but some men of these times still feel threatened if the women in their lives earn more, learn more or do more. The Shulammite would find many soul sisters today, but she might be hard pressed to find a Solomon.

Day 2

This journey through Lent is so different from other trips when I was pre-occupied religious readings and observances as well as well as what I was giving up. I attempt the Daniel fast but find that I eat more than before I changed my diet. There is a craving for food although my caloric and nutrient needs are being met. So I eat all the time. Strange fast but I refuse to allow my eating habits to pre-occupy my thoughts and make me too guilty to hear God’s voice. I realize that on some days I’ll relate better than others.

My mission is to serve God through the routine of every day life, reaching out to people where we meet. I had overslept this morning and had to forego my Bible reading and my exercise so my day did not have the best start. Disregarding my failures, God used an ordinary class to inspire someone to serve Him better. It was an awesome moment. I felt some empathy for the little boy who gave up his fish or the servants who had their water turned into wine. When Christ anoints our daily tasks and tools with His transformative power, His kingdom comes and we know His will is done.

Thirty minutes of awe and I was immersed again in the humdrum of administrative tasks. Mountain tops give us picturesque views but work calls to us from the valley floors.. Yet I know that this experience will encourage me through the frustrations and disappointments that are part of the working life. It is one of my Lenten gifts, which makes me feel special and loved.

First day

Last night, I went to bed laughing at myself and wondering how God could tolerate our inconsistencies and still have any thunderbolts left. My excuse was that I had recently celebrated a birthday with flowers, good wishes and fruit. Decades of singlehood had taught me how to care for myself so I bought the first lot of yellow carnations. I usually try to do something different as an immunization against getting into a paralyzing rut. This year, seduced by the free trial, I started to apply to an on-line dating service. Self -description is not at all easy for me so I thought that I should sleep on it. Sleep evaded me, and then the implication of what I had attempted made me feel shallow and trite. After all, I'm already trying to build a relationship. I feel that the least I can do is treat God as I would a lover. Therefore, I can't be looking for a date during this period of relating to Him. In my romantic relationships, I was always loyal to my partner so God shouldn't be treated differently. In fact, He said that He is a jealous God and that we should put none before Him.

I take comfort in knowing that no part of my mind or heart is unknown to God so I recovered from my on-line adventure. I still wanted to know how to say good night to the God of the universe. Rituals are important in giving meaning and intimacy. I recall during the dating game, going to bed reflecting on what we'd done or shared so this will be my starting point. Memories of my bedtime routine when my thoughts were crowded with images of the one I cared about and my heart longed for the next day to see him again and to start all over, made me smile. Treating God like a person is an adventure, not knowing where it will end , only hoping to be with Him.

Lent starts on Sunday

During last Lent, my church had the Daniel fast. There was a great spirit of comraderie and a lot of positive health benefits although my friend and I seemed to be the only people who did not lose weight. The time was memorable because I fell down the stairs at work but landed sitting two steps below where I tripped. I was certain that God intervened to stop me crashing down to the next floor. Sore for days with a knee that was badly swollen, I felt really grateful that I had escaped so lightly. However, I did not have new spiritual insights and felt somewhat disappointed when Lent ended.
On Shrove Tuesday, I made English pancakes as I've yet to learn to make the American ones. My guests enjoyed them but making pancakes was the only tangible preparation I made for the Lenten season. Ash Wednesday came and passed, and I remained unclear as to the direction of my 2011 Lenten journey. I completed the Book of Proverbs. Starting the Song of Solomon was automatic but Isaiah or the gospel seemed more inviting at this time. Saturday, was spent hanging out with my niece and her charming friend when I was not watching cartoons and playing toy pool with my nephew. As they left for dinner, I raced to Kroger's for breakfast food: bread,bacon, eggs, cheese, cookies (not on the list of the Daniel fast).
Sunday morning, I tiptoed to my niece's room to take breakfast orders. Sleepily, she informed me that she would eat on the road, I thought: I can't keep eggs for forty days, I'd already emptied my fridge of unsuitable stuff but I smiled and asked: "Leaving so soon"? As I was only going to eat oatmeal, I slid in the shower. Rubbing exfoliants on my face, my body relaxed beneath the caress of the warm sprays. I remembered shortening my bath just to be able to spend more time with someone. Amidst the suds, the challenging question begged an answer: Can you love me enough to want to spend as much time with me as you did that man? This morning I was confronted and humbled with the state of my heart as I could not answer Yes! I try so hard to please God and to live my life in obedience to HIm. I really want HIs will for my life but do I want just to spend time with HIM, to be with HIm alone. Isn't it strange that I am willing to work for God, am more ready to die for my beliefs about God than to enjoy a love relationship with HIm? So exploring this paradox is now my Lenten quest.
How can God be my lover? How can I have that sense of expectancy to be with Him. How can I make it real. Holy,Creator God of the universe in a relationship with me- finite, fragile , female sinner. What happens next, I really don't know but I'm ready.

God's Eyes

The eighty per cent rise in my air fare grounded me and forced non-attendance at my father's memorial. So free of appointments, I watched videos of news.

The ambulance stopped outside the Rehabilitation Center and quickly became surrounded with intense activity as the congresswoman was admitted. Despite her access to such good care, I think of her family and friends who are physically and/or emotionally her best care-givers, May they find strength as they comfort, cajole and encourage her. May they always be cushioned by hope and faith in the long hard days and longer nights ahead.
But there were other images flitting across my screen today. Egypt with names like Cario and Alexandria, part of the ancient world; yet still mysterious. Its pyramids are on my bucket list. The crowds in the streets reminded me of Tehran decades ago.


Two very different incidents but both examples of how quickly our world be it personal or national can change without our consent or input. What a difference a month can make!
Life seemed so whimsical as I observed people struggling with multiple tragedies. I've even sulked at God on their behalf or tried to become more devout so that he might spare me. I felt that God was just waiting for me to mess up enough and then He would throw the thunderbolts. Apollo and Zeus probably tainted my view of God because I really forgot that as far as the east is from the west, so is His ways from us! I often confused the swings and slings of life with divine intentions.

Now, I'm still affected by the pain and loss in the world but I try to use a sad or dreadful event as an opportunity to be grateful. When I hear of difficulties, know of someone my age or younger who is very ill or has died, I see God's grace to me. Each new day births its own praise because the God who eyes the sparrow also has His eye on me.

Three hundred and sixty five days

Yesterday has gone since twenty four minutes ago. I returned home twice on my way to work for my phone and credit cards that I did not find. I phoned my assistant and asked Do I have to come to work today or can I work from home? She reminded me of a meeting at 1 , some training at 5.30p.m so I knew that meant that it was business as usual. For an anxious hour I searched for the missing cards before finding them in a very safe location.

It seemed an ordinary day and yet, a year ago, my heart was overwhelmed with grief which shattered my life. So I shared the night with the sleepless; the endless tears, silent and uncomforting. I recall brief moments of respite as "Let it be" echoed in my head. It was such a surprise that this poignant lyric helped in a way the great hymns I love did not.

There is an" insanity" in loss. One day , I could not stop the tears because my dad lay buried under a heavy snow storm. When the brilliance of spring sunshine made me want to dance, I began to sob because, it was a day he could not enjoy. I even thought how unkind parents were to die before their children. I knew I was irrational but I cried anyway. While the tears drenched my spirit, and apathy threatened to cripple , life continued to demand its celebrations: anniversaries, birthdays and ceremonial events. Each of these was a guidepost. Each pointed the way to a different place. Pain is part of the human experience. It often signals growth. It usually spells change as we adjust and adapt.

I am more mindful of my father than when he was alive. His thoughts live in my head as he urges me to live my best life. Decades ago, he told me that I was brave, In the aftermath of his passing, for weeks I hid under the bed . However, I have had a good year without him and knowing how much I loved him, I am sure, he's cheering my achievement. I take him in my future, not as a sentimental talisman but rather as a reflection of his values and beliefs. I know that there is no night in heaven and a thousand days are but one but I hope that there are anniversaries there and that he had a great time. We'll meet again.

Grieflands

It is January 13th, the birthday of my oldest brother. This year, he has achieved a significant milestone as well as he has become the senior male member of our family. So on Saturday, we had an early celebration. As a teenager, he helped our dad on his eighteen seater boat. Dad rewarded him and us by giving us the boat to go on picnics along the river. My mother fretted that folk would be very critical if there was an accident. My father declared that my brother loved the boat as much as he did and would act responsibly. My brother never let him down. To remind him of those days, his birthday cake was crowned with a jaunty boat and the name "Pomeroon Pilgrim" was etched in blue on its side. Everyone enjoyed themselves and no one wished that Dad was there. Another milestone was successfully passed across the track of grief.

The Christmas tree was decorated early but in my forced attempt at normality , too much emotional energy was expended. The boxes of cards I had bought were opened but week after week remained unwritten. My annual family letter stayed on the to do list as I tried to make sense of my internal voices. Some asked me to go easy on myself. After all, I have lost the most cherished person in my life. Healing takes time. Other voices urge me not to be self-indulgent with the ceaseless reminders that I have so much for which to be thankful. "Though much is taken , much remain" is still as true as when first written. Despite my father's loss, I am grateful for the good things in my life and I'm deeply thankful for the time I was blessed just being his daughter. After Christmas 2009, my brother-in-law cried (to his wife's annoyance as she did not want to cry too) when dad left because he felt that that would be his last holiday with him. We all coped with anticipatory grief according to our temperament as the shadow of death inched ever closer. Then death arrived!

December, 2010,we enjoyed a Christmas Eve meal with invited friends. Christmas night all my sisters and their families with my mother slept under one roof. At 1.20 am on December 26th, we celebrated surviving our first Christmas with sighs of relief. Another milestone had passed and over the three days , we adapted and adjusted to a world without our dad. Going through the motions has brought me to a different stage of my journey; further along than if I had stayed in the paralysis of grief. Sometimes, it is hard to even do that but it is always worth the effort. My brother's party was a big effort but it signaled that I can look beyond myself and I know that one day, my journey across Griefland would be over because the God who gives us new, clean hearts can repair broken ones.