the old glove

It's funny how simply we fall into old patterns.  The ease of conversation and relationship supernaturally blossoms, as though the flow of time temporarily halted during the absence and then continues its flow upon reunion.  Small things, in some ways, and yet profoundly important.  Those who choose to continue downstream with you and those who took other paths, it's always surprising, but at this point in my life it is not new.

So this is just a reminder to myself, that even as I am open to those who join in on the journey, I can choose to put distance between people; and also, people can also do the same to me.

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I'm tired.  I've almost made it through the first onslaught of the spring semester.  A little over a week and I will be on a spring break where I am actually able to take a real break.  There's still things to be done, music to be learned, but at least freed from a schedule and from the ever changing landscape of "making it work."  The rest is much needed.


Matthew 6:25-35 (MSG)
“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.

 “Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.

 “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Some days suck

And that’s that.

I’m sure it didn’t help that I was awake every hour or so, which I’m somewhat used to at this point.  But waking up with “let’s not have her dead anymore” is not very helpful.  Getting out of bed was difficult, and unfortunate with a day that started at 9 AM.  The first half of the day was very busy with S&E, and then I ran and did recordings and finished up S&E, trying my best to not be annoyed but failing.

It was the kind of day where I wish I had a scarlet W emblazoned on me, so that people didn’t have to ask to understand but also would judge with the right approach.

I’d love to put something uplifting but I’m still spiraling that this should have been a six year anniversary and we didn’t even get one whole year of marriage.

the unseen corkscrew

Well, I am still not sleeping, but tonight has been a rare evening where I've been home at a decent hour and so was able to do some important things (laundry, running, invoices, taxes, responding to e-mails that aren't about setting up rehearsals, etc.).  I am hopeful that soon after writing this that I will lay down and maybe get some decent rest.

Saturday is our wedding anniversary, and my hope is that finally getting to that will be the thing that gets me to get back into sleeping regularly.  Lack of sleep is really wearing on me; I can either do long days, or little sleep, but not both.  It's actually rather annoying, because I've always said my super power is sleeping.  But more specifically it is an ability to fall asleep- unfortunately sans one evening has not been the problem.  I can fall asleep just fine.  But I keep waking up.  Crazy dreams.  Sweating.  Realizing I've cried in my sleep.

On the flip side of this, God is good in that I have self-control through the Spirit to not let all of the bubbling underbelly out to wreak havoc on my little world.  I know that I can't just act based on how I feel, and being in the moment (which actually is an easy default, particularly as a musician) I think helps keep me from totally spiraling out of control.  But I also know that my private time is not exactly exemplary.  My car has heard more than it's fill of angry rants traveling between places.  And it's not even like the anger is always because of something in particular, which is still the strangest/scariest part.



My other (short) rumination for the evening: because of assembling "the box" I have seen a lot of Cam's handwriting, which is such a strange thing to think that it was a regular part of my life for several years.  Lots of cards with silly gifts, little sticky notes everywhere (EVERYWHERE), and then things that I wasn't necessarily meant to see, at least not so soon- journal entries, her own musings and schedules and questions.  I can listen to her talk and play, I can see pictures of her, but somehow, for the time being, reading these things makes her the most "real" to me.  Her personality, her care and attention to detail, her constant pursuit to better herself, her love for me.

It's all so crazy still.  I wonder if it will ever not feel that way.  I wonder if I would really want it to not feel that way.

James 1:2-18 (MSG)
Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.

If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. 

You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. People who “worry their prayers” are like wind-whipped waves. Don’t think you’re going to get anything from the Master that way, adrift at sea, keeping all your options open.When down-and-outers get a break, cheer! And when the arrogant rich are brought down to size, cheer! Prosperity is as short-lived as a wildflower, so don’t ever count on it. You know that as soon as the sun rises, pouring down its scorching heat, the flower withers. Its petals wilt and, before you know it, that beautiful face is a barren stem. Well, that’s a picture of the “prosperous life.” At the very moment everyone is looking on in admiration, it fades away to nothing.

Anyone who meets a testing challenge head-on and manages to stick it out is mighty fortunate. For such persons loyally in love with God, the reward is life and more life.

Don’t let anyone under pressure to give in to evil say, “God is trying to trip me up.” God is impervious to evil, and puts evil in no one’s way. The temptation to give in to evil comes from us and only us. We have no one to blame but the leering, seducing flare-up of our own lust. Lust gets pregnant, and has a baby: sin! Sin grows up to adulthood, and becomes a real killer.  So, my very dear friends, don’t get thrown off course. Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light. There is nothing deceitful in God, nothing two-faced, nothing fickle. He brought us to life using the true Word, showing us off as the crown of all his creatures.

The word for 2020

I set out to write tonight but I don't know exactly what I wanted to work through.  It's officially solo and ensemble season, I've three events happening over the next three weekends.  Because of that, my days have been more full than empty, which I hoped would help me fall asleep (which it has) and stay asleep (which it has not).  It is rather annoying to keep seeing midnight, 2 AM, 4 AM, 5 AM, but at this point I'm almost used to it.  I've actually used some of the time to do worthwhile stuff like laundry.  I guess if it happens again overnight I have some reading that I am having trouble imagining I'll have time to complete before the end of the month.

There is something that is left unsaid.  A word for this year, and it seems to be “redeem.”  I don’t know if I have used this word before, and at the moment I am writing on my phone so looking up old entries is difficult.  But what a great word, in the concept of time.  Redeeming my time in the car with a liturgy podcast; redeeming my physical life with running and praying; redeeming the sleepless night with prayer and seeking God.

But man is it hard.

It is easier to be angry.  To do mine numbing activities.  To seek comfort in food or intellectual activities or relationships.

So I fight against the temptations of life, knowing that God redeems me ultimately but also learning more and more that God redeems me daily.  His mercies are new every morning.

A last thought; I shared this with a friend but I need to share it with myself as well:

Lamentations 3 (MSG)
 22-24 God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,
his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning.
How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
He’s all I’ve got left.

 19-21 I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,
the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.
I remember it all — oh, how well I remember —
the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there’s one other thing I remember,
and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

 25-27 God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,
to the woman who diligently seeks.
It’s a good thing to quietly hope,
quietly hope for help from God.
It’s a good thing when you’re young
to stick it out through the hard times.

 28-30 When life is heavy and hard to take,
go off by yourself. Enter the silence.
Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions:
Wait for hope to appear.
Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face.
The “worst” is never the worst.

 31-33 Why? Because the Master won’t ever
walk out and fail to return.
If he works severely, he also works tenderly.
His stockpiles of loyal love are immense.
He takes no pleasure in making life hard,
in throwing roadblocks in the way:

 34-36 Stomping down hard
on luckless prisoners,
Refusing justice to victims
in the court of High God,
Tampering with evidence —
the Master does not approve of such things.

Waking up early is one thing.

Never getting to sleep is an entirely different thing, and something that I can't remember ever being this severe.  I haven't slept well in a week, but I've always at least fallen asleep.

So when you haven't slept, I guess you write.

Psalm 77 in The Message has exactly what I feel at the moment (vv. 2-6):

I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord; my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal.  When friends said, “Everything will turn out all right,” I didn’t believe a word they said.
I remember God—and shake my head. I bow my head—then wring my hands.
I’m awake all night—not a wink of sleep; I can’t even say what’s bothering me.  I go over the days one by one, I ponder the years gone by.  I strum my lute all through the night, wondering how to get my life together.

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I was reflecting earlier on the short amount of time we were in our house, not only because our time together was so short, but also because of BMT land.  The trigger this time was kitchen gadgets, things that we got from the wedding, things that we used, but only a few times, things that I've used but only recently, because they are no longer in storage and I thought they no longer had emotional power.  But it's not necessarily a bad power.

So anyway, we spent maybe a little over 7 months in the house, one and a half before entering BMT land, and then remembering living back and forth between DeLand and Tampa, hearing the fireworks at Busch Gardens from the apartment, taking walks and runs around the little "lake," flushing the port, Dinosaur World, so much driving, so many days of empty brain, and all of it just a glimpse of how many memories there are and how much still to unlock.  And I have planned to do some of that Saturday, which will be very good but very hard.



Mercifully I don't have a lot going on today.

I guess I'll go for a run.

A lament

How do I go forward when the path is beyond repair?

How can I take steps with such a heavy load?

Why give us what we desire, what we didn’t know we wanted, 

Only to take it away, too soon to have enjoyed it?

Where is comfort in solitude?

Where is light that does not mock?

Who can stand to move against

The bitter winds of emptiness?

Talk to me, show me the way out of darkness;

Nourish my body and soul with your provision.

Make a new path, direct my steps, 

And bolster my resolve to follow You.

Only then can I begin to walk the chosen path.

By Your strength, I can see the true light

And find Your purpose in the pain.

I think I know better, but You are sovereign.

Even if I were perfect, still Your plan is better.

And I am not wise, I am not good.

But You are good, and You do good.

You have worked these things for my good,

And will comfort me so I can comfort others.

So I trust You, and I must follow You.

Where do you see yourself in five years?

The inevitable interview question that I rarely, if ever, have an answer for, and yet here I am, not at the moment looking to five years down the road but instead looking at the five years I've travelled.  And let me tell you, I did not see myself here almost in any capacity.  We measure life in many different ways, and for whatever reason our human brain tends to like groups of five.  We have five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot; when we tally, the fifth mark is the different mark; we claim to have five senses (though we really have more); some believe that there are five elements that make up the world; we make bigger celebrations out of the 5's and 10's (birthday's, anniversaries, whatever).

This is not the five years I could have ever saw.

So once again here I am about to say that nothing in my life is because of my own plans, that I didn't try and make happen anything of where I currently am and am doing and the people I've met and all those wonderful things.

The thing that was one of the defining features of the first year of Cam's death has been plaguing me for several weeks now: knowing exactly how many days away February 2nd is.  I haven't slept through the night in over a week, although I did finally do the math and at least my body really still is doing sleep cycles, but only three instead of the usual five.  Hey look, NOT five.




Today's been a weird day.  That anger thing was ever present, although I would hazard that if you asked anyone that interacted with me that they would have no idea.  But on the inside I was ready to smash things into walls, not because of any trigger, but this is just apparently the flavor of my life for this season.

I'm rambling but I'm trying to make myself write more so that I don't keep it in all the time.  Also I started this this morning and didn't get to finish my original thoughts until about 10 hours later.