Evaluating October Goals

Oh my....I can't believe November is here already.  It just seemed like yesterday that it was just the beginning of October.  


My life is flying by.


1. Finally finish setting up my room.  
It's pretty much done except for my invisible book shelves.  Once the canopy and lantern was up I was done.


2. Finish editing Leah and Matt's shoot.
Half done.   I took more than I thought.


3. Finish editing the Wong's shoot.
Also half done.

4. Get 4 hours of Arabic in. I still love this language, and I do want to learn it.
Utter FAIL.  
0 hours logged.
Although I did log 9+ hours of Bollywood movies.  More if we count all the songs that I listen to on my ipod.  If only I know what I'm singing....I can count it as learning a new language.  Well knowing how to pronounce the words is half the battle right???

5. Make one fascinator.
I started....

6. Try one new soup recipe.
FAIL.

7. Finish 3 books (Forgotten God, Tribes, The Practice of Godliness)
I finished 2.5 books.  None of the above though.

8. Clean as I go. Hopefully Frank the apt. Will stay cleaner for longer than 2 days.
I think this was more of a ongoing thing.

9. Do a fall shoot.
Didn't do a fall shoot, but Lydia and Sam's engagement shots count as a shoot.



10. Sleep before 12 on a regular basis.
I did pretty good.

The Valley of Vision

Lord, High and Holy, meek and lowly,
Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine;

Let me find thy light in my darkness,
thy life in my death,
thy joy in my sorrow,
thy grace in my sin,
thy riches in my poverty,
thy glory in my valley.

-from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions

She's Back

Oh the irony of ironies, that the very day I spoke at our weekly meeting on the topic of Meaning would be the same day that my therapist and I concluded that my struggle with depression- which manifests itself in my life as a pervading sense of immense meaninglessness, would probably be a lifelong thing since it seemed to be a chemical imbalance.

She's back.  My depression that is.

It's been 3 months since I weaned off meds.
3 months for everything to leave my system.
3 months for my body to be on its own, and not making it.
3 months for her to come back.

I didn't want to admit it for many, many reasons, but all the symptoms started to show up.
The flatness and the heaviness of the soul.
The spiralling catastrophic thought patterns, the dread, the anxiety.
The sinking feeling.

I cried, and cried, and cried, and am still crying.
At one point, in a bathroom stall (again) because even whilst grieving I couldn't resist a good cliche.  Girl, crying in a bathroom stall.
Cue cheesy music.

I cried because I felt and still feel like I've failed God.
That I didn't try hard enough to love Him enough.
That I didn't try hard enough to root out my idols.
Even though I know this is not true at all.


I cried because of oh the stigma, stigma, STIGMA,
which I only partially dealt with since I had believed  my depression was only brought on by my burnout and not a lasting thing.
Especially since I'm back on meds.

I cried because of lingering heartache that was exacerbated by depression.

I cried because I didn't want to go back to that darkness of the soul.

I grieved for "normalcy" or "wholeness" or  whatever semblance I had of it.

And so I continue to fluctuate between grief and acceptance- that this is my chance to bring Him glory by demonstrating my faith in a God who works for the good of those who love Him, in all things- even depression.

Then of course there's my sense of humour going: at least you weren't diagnosed with a terminal illness...yet.

Can I just say that today's one of those days
where I really wish that Jesus would come now.
As in this very instant.
I'm ready to go home, home.
I want to leave this broken world,
with all my brokenness, all my frustrations,
all my pains, and all my fatigue behind.
Bye, ciao, sayonara, toodles poodles, hasta la vista.


But regardless of when He comes, He will come, and...
so we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.
2 Corinthians 4:16-17

Drool

Red and Blue Sari, originally uploaded by shellieos.

Five Good Things

1. Finding parathas (North Indian flat bread) at Loblaws. Huzzah!
2. Wicked the musical. Not the book.
3. The Holy Spirit running my life on autopilot after I tuned out.
4. Skyping with one of my girls from project.
5. A great home cooked steak dinner.

YOU Follow Me

Comparison is a dangerous game, and we women play it too often.

In the area of singleness it goes like this:

"So-and-so got a boyfriend, why can't I? I'm just as (insert qualifying adjective here: smart, funny, beautiful, godly, etc... ) as her. Or even more so."

We do it because we think we have a right to a mate and throw a tizzy when we don't get one when we want one.

I know this because I've played this game.

"So-and-so got a man! Why can't I?"

And if not Shelly? What will you do? Give God an ultimatum?

More and more God has been impressing John 21:22 on me. Jesus had just foretold Peter's death, and Peter turns around and asks Jesus about John's future.

Jesus replies:
"If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!"

Along the same veins, I sense God pressing on my heart,
"If it is my will that she gets married, what is that to you? You follow me!"

People may think that I'm being fatalistic in thinking that I might never marry, but at this point a lifetime of singleness is just as possible as marriage. And I don't want to be naive, heading overseas. There may be someone to marry, but there may not be.

Five Good Things

1. Being a human chair for a 2 year old.
2. Heart to hearts.
3. Bhangra drum and drumming at the Indian restaurant.
4. Grilled green chili peppers. They burn your digestive system, but they're so good.
5. "Random" verses that pop out. Like this one:

I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears,
I drench my couch with my weeping.
My eye wastes away because of grief...
Psalm 6:6-7a

I am not the only emo Christian out there. Yay for the psalmist.

Boredom

Ok so I've noticed that boredom has started to become a recurring theme in my life. Not so much "I'm bored. Whaddya wanna do," type of bored, but bored as in "I'm bored with life," type of bored.

It's somewhat unsettling because I have yet to figure out where the heck this is coming from, and ever since burning out I usually have a good handle on my emotional pulse.

Part of me wonders if I'm such a glutton for punishment that I actually get bored when there's a reprieve from the storms of life. Or maybe to put a positive spin on it, it's because I thrive on changes and challenges, and there hasn't been much of that this year.

And I think one of the reasons why I'm so emotionally drained is because I'm...bored. That, and I'm still working on figuring out what it practically means to have Jesus as my joy in everything. Read "in being single."

Shoulds, Wants, and Needs

The activities that occupy my day have been subconsciously divided up into 3 categories: Shoulds, Wants, and Needs.

Shoulds- Things that are my responsibility, that I ought to get done. i.e. ministry responsibilities.

Wants- Things that I want to do, like going to see Wicked, the musical.

Needs- Things that I need to do to keep my sanity. i.e. stay home and be a hermit.

When I told this to my counsellor he suggested a change. Apparently there is something to a name. To help manage stress, my counsellor suggested that I rename two of them shoulds- to Ministry and needs to Self-Care. So renamed they are.

Unfortunately if this was a Venn diagram on Graph Jam, none of the circles would intersect. I can't stay home and go see a musical at the same time. And unfortunately ministry drains me.

Sadly September was filled mostly with Ministry and Wants and little of Self-Care. Warning bells started ringing and red flags started waving when I felt suffocated every time I looked at my weekly schedule, and wondered, "when am I going to have a chance to breathe?" So now I have to take drastic measures to fill up my emotional tank or else pay hell in the future with my sanity.

Can I just say that it's not easy enforcing hermit status on yourself when your roommates and teammates are some of the funnest people around? It's only been day two of hermit status and I've already declined two invitations to hang out. TWO! And more to come. I hate the thought that I'm missing out on fun and inside jokes.

Not to say that staying home is bad. There is a reason why I need to. Many actually. And since I did stay home tonight instead of traipsing out on the town, I have shiny, mint green nails to show for it.

Pats on my back.

This is part of growing up I suppose. Choosing wisely over choosing emotionally.

Singleness and Marshmallows

My desire for a relationship can be compared to that marshmallow experiment that they do with kids.

You know the one where they give a kid a marshmallow, tell her that if she waits, she'll get two more later.  Me being the kid and a man being the marshmallow, and the husband being the second marshmallow.

I've had so many older people tell me if I wait the right guy will come along and then I'll be so happy that I didn't settle for just anyone.

I had and have a hard time believing them.
So I would dive for that first marshmallow whenever I got the chance.
Also because I would think that the first marshmallow was the second marshmallow.
Still following the marshmallow analogy?

This is all to say, I'm seriously impatient amongst other things.


This is why my mum worries.  Can't blame her now. 

What It All Came Down To Part 3

I've been really getting comfortable in a bad sense in Toronto these past few years.
Since joining staff I haven't really taken a major leap of faith where God would have to show up or else...

At one point my heart turned from world missions to a lakeside loft, interior decorating, and just making myself comfortable and happy. And that is not where I want to be. I'm not condemning buying a house and decorating it, I'm just saying that for me to not do missions would be to sear my conscience.

God's calling on my life has been loud and clear, and I cannot run from it.
And believe you me, I've tried.

Toronto was never meant to be my final destination on this earth, it was just a stopover.

Love Languages

I have observed over the past few weeks that the way that I receive love has shifted.  All the love languages are important to me, but relatively words of affirmation make a greater deposit of love into my life than the others.  But when I say words of affirmation I don't mean random general ego boosters, but sincere words of truth spoken in love.

I'm really surprised that it has shifted because I never really thought anything would trump acts of service, but I suppose different life stages warrants different things.

So in order of importance:  

1.  Words of Affirmation
2.  Acts of Service
3.  Gifts
4.  Physical Touch
5.  Quality Time

Go ahead love on me!

I hate to say this, but I find singleness chafing and wait for it, hard.
Surprise!
This has probably been blatantly obvious to everyone around me, but it was only recently today that I could actually admit to myself that I found it hard because I didn't want to admit it.
Because to admit it, would be admitting to weakness. Or at least in my mind anyways.
And to admit it might mean that I might be that girl*, and I'd hate to be that girl.  Although there's been many times this year where I've been that girl to my chagrin.  Anyways I digress.

For me singleness at its worst has been heartbreaking and at its best has been ignored.   And by "ignored" I mean me walking around ignoring that gnawing hunger inside, pretending it's not there, that it doesn't bother me, and that I don't really want a man.  That is what we call a dumb idea.


I honestly haven't had a very clear idea what it means to bring it to the Lord.  I've had some vague ideas for sure, but when it came down to what it tangibly entailed,  I had and still have no clue.  That gaping hole, that gnawing hunger, that overpowering desire, that screams to be filled, I didn't and I don't know what to do with it.   I didn't want to be all "Jesus is my boyfriend," because I don't think that's it and so the best I could muster was the cold shoulder because I didn't want to figure what it really meant to bring it to the Lord either.

I was scared that Jesus might not really fulfill me, and that if He did, that, that would mean no husband for me later.

I know, idolatry, I know.

Yet I still kept it as a pet, and refused to deal with it.

Earlier this year my pastor had gently and lovingly exhorted me to be patient during this season.  It went something along the lines of...
"I've seen many a staff woman get derailed because of this.  He'll come.  Let him grow up more, and in the meantime you can grow up a little yourself." 

I took his words to heart, and it's been reverebrating in my mind ever since.  I've seen the depravity of my own heart and the darkness of my own soul, and I know that it's only by the grace of God that I haven't been derailed yet, but if I continue to keep a pet sin....  

After a sound rebuke from the Lord last week...and boy was it loud and clear,  I figured that it was really time to get serious about surrendering this area to God instead of dilly dallying.

So where to start?
Thinking of singleness as fasting. 

 *How to explain?  that girl encompasses all the traits of the girl, a girl doesn't want to be.  I think every girl has their own concept of that girl.

I've started many a sentence tonight.
Then deleted.
And then typed some more, and then deleted.

My mind is full of thoughts swirling around...

But my mental capacity isn't up to the task of putting them to words. Actually it's been quite feeble of late. So many grammatical mistakes in my tweets and posts. But anyways...

This is all to say:

I wanted to blog, but was too tired to write anything coherent so I wrote this instead.

Thanks for reading.

October Goals

Goals are good when your life and identity aren't defined by them.

1. Finally finish setting up my room.
2. Finish editing Leah and Matt's shoot.
3. Finish editing the Wong's shoot.
4. Get 4 hours of Arabic in. I still love this language, and I do want to learn it.
5. Make one fascinator.
6. Try one new soup recipe.
7. Finish 3 books (Forgotten God, Tribes, The Practice of Godliness)
8. Clean as I go. Hopefully Frank the apt. Will stay cleaner for longer than 2 days.
9. Do a fall shoot.
10. Sleep before 12 on a regular basis.

On Missions

It saddens and frustrates me that when most people consider missions, if at all, their initial thoughts revolve around themselves, myself included.

Do I feel like going?
Can I handle the stress?
What about my family and friends?
How will I fare?
I'm going to miss home so much.
I'm going to die from the culture shock.
Who the heck am I going to marry over there?


(These thoughts continuously cycle through my mind like a broken record player.)


So many people I've talked to, their reasons for not going were somewhere along the lines of, it's going to be uncomfortable for me, and I can't handle it so therefore I'm not called to go, thank you very much.  Again, myself included.
Ugh.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for making sure you're emotionally stable and mature before you jet overseas.  That's very important, but I don't think that's the main reason why the labourers are few.

The main reason is because we're selfish.

Unless God has specifically called us to stay and send, all the above points are moot because we serve an all-mighty, all-knowing, all-loving God, with who anything is possible.   I'm not saying He's going to make everything comfortable.  I'm saying He'll sustain you through the difficulties.  Be it hot weather, beatings, or the lack of a mate.

And can I just say that our most common excuses don't hold up under the costs of discipleship listed in the Bible?

Nowhere does it say if it's too uncomfortable you can stay and not go.
Jesus says again and again,

“If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me."

But somehow we forget to figure that in.

The worst excuse is "but I'm not called."


Really?  Take a gander at Matthew 28:18-21.
How can we say we're not called when there are billions, literally billions of people perishing?
Is that excuse really going to stand up before Jesus when we meet Him?


Let's reverse our psychology.
Let's GO unless God closes the door and stops us.

In My Head

Scenario: Thinking in my head puttering around my apartment.

Me:  It's a little boring not having someone to like.  There's no excitement.  There's no one to look forward to seeing.
Me (Voice of Reason): Wait...no.  Are you saying that you miss and want the drama?!?!


Pause.
My heart seizes up in a mad panic.


Me:  Oh yeah...No.  No, no more drama.  I'm gonna go watch Shahid Kapoor dance now.


I have to admit there is that thrill when you start liking someone, when you see him, talk to him, etc...
But then how easily I forget how fast it goes downhill when the waters get murky murky.

Morale of the story: Girls are stupid too.

25

25.
Twenty five.
Two.  Five.

Wow.  I can't believe we're here already.  And of course by "we" I mean "me".

25.

25 has always been a BIG birthday in my mind growing up along with
10 (double digits baby),
16 (sweet  16),
18 (officially an adult),
20 (the twenties!!!),
and I didn't really want to think about it after that because in my mind it all went downhill after the big 2-5.

25.  Man.

25 has always been a very daunting birthday because I had always felt pressured by our culture to "have it all together" by this time.

I'm suppose to have "arrived" by now.

Not only that, but there were also self-imposed expectations to be so incredibly accomplished that I would stand out above the crowd.

25.

The expectations were so, that as I inched closer to 25, I would have mini panic attacks every time I evaluated my life.  Followed by much self-loathing, much condemnation, much guilt, and much despair.  Then by the grace of God,  a few years ago, a little something called "burnout" happened....

25.

I don't have it all together.
I don't have it all figured out.
I don't think I ever will.

And I'm so ok with that.

Life will always be a journey...until I die.
God will always be teaching me and refining me.
I'm excited to see what He'll do, and follow Him wherever He calls.

25.

By God's grace you have become a birthday of hope instead a birthday of despair.