Negotiables

This is (sort of) a precursor to my next post, and also just random thoughts, not leading up to a particular conclusion.

In life, there are things that are negotiable, and things that are not. Some non-negotiables are eating, sleeping, and having heat in the winter months. I, or any other person, will literally not survive without those things. Some pretty obvious negotiables are: eating out at fancy restaurants, owning a brand new car, having a gigantic net worth. 

Then there's the category of things that seem non-negotiable, but are actually negotiable. We think we need them, but we actually don't. For example - a car. Cars are not necessary for survival. I drive my car every single day. If I didn't have one, I could ride my bike to a bus stop up the road each morning, and ride the bus to work. Do I prefer the car? Heck yeah! Would I survive without it? Yes. My life wouldn't be as comfortable as it is now, but I'd certainly survive. 

Another example is a cell phone. I use mine every day. But does my survival depend on it? No, not really. Most days I use it for fairly unnecessary purposes - such as receiving picture messages of my sister's hamster. Of course, I acknowledge that a cell phone can get you out of some difficult, dangerous situations, like being stuck in a snowy ditch on I-90.

Something I can't seem to categorize is companionship, and/or, I suppose, love. Most of me says it's unnecessary. Yeah, people want to be loved, but are we going to die without it. . . I want to say no. I've noticed this trend, though.  I have a physical reaction to being alone, lonely, feeling abandoned. I get this rash. It looks kind of like dry skin at first, or some sort of abrasion. It grows, gets itchier, and turns bright red in water. I have it right above my knee now. I've had it on my elbow before. This could all be coincidence, too. I mean, I do refer to myself as "allergy girl" on occasion, so it's not that far fetched to believe I'd have a reaction on my skin - it's happened plenty of other times. Who knows.

He Is

On Saturday night, I pulled out of the parking lot of a Catholic church's gymnasium crying my eyes out. Currently, I'm battling lonliness. It's so easy to type that word, to say that word, that I wonder if it can truly carry the level of emotion I feel. There's no end in sight, no solution to work towards, and so I cried as I waked across the parking lot, got into my car, and drove away, because it was the only thing to do. 

I remembered pulling out of that same parking lot a year earlier. I was feeling uneasy. My boyfriend, whom I thought should be with me, wasn't. He was on a retreat because he was thinking of moving to China to do missions work for a year. I was concerned about a number of things. Would he go? Would the relationship end? Would I be miserable for a whole year? What if he went back again for a second year? How would I say goodbye? How would I handle any of it with grace? I had lots of questions and fears, and they were all running through my head as I pulled out of the same parking lot of the Catholic church.

He didn't go to China. When his retreat was over, the next day, he called me up and I went to his house and sat on his bed in the sun while he folded laundry. "I learned two things this weekend", he told me. "First, I learned that China isn't for me". I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and wondered why I'd been so worried. "The second thing I learned is that I've been afraid to love you". Wow. I was ecstatic. The pain, the worry, the experience, had been worth it, more than I could have imagined.

The next time I was in the Catholic church parking lot was in December. I was downright miserable. All my dreams had been pulled out from under me. My heart was broken. My paychecks were bouncing. My efforts in buying a home had fallen through. I couldn't participate in my favorite activities. I got in my car, in my black performance clothes, and started sobbing.  I drove back to my parents house, screaming at God for destroying my life and putting me through so much pain. I didn't see any way out, any redemption, just unending hurt.

After that, not another paycheck bounced. Within several weeks my relationship was restored. Within two months I was homeowner.

On Saturday, despite my loneliness and tears, I remembered that God had been faithful. Twice before I'd driven through that parking lot feeling hopeless, and twice before my hope, and more, had been restored. When I arrived back at my dark, quiet, empty house I didn't feel any less alone or lonely, but I felt sure of God's sovereignty in my situations. He Is. He Is the same yesterday, today, and forever!

Homeownership

On Wednesday, I ran into my first big problem as a homeowner.

Currently, the only thing residing on my deck is a bird feeder made from an orange juice jug. Actually, currently it's in the sink in the basement, but earlier in the week it was sitting on the ledge of the deck. On Wednesday, from my upstairs window, I noticed the bird feeder had blown off the deck into the grass, and I decided it would be better to move it than to litter. 

I don't think I'd ever walked down the steps of my deck until Wednesday, and so when I went out there to get the bird feeder I looked around the area a bit. Right away, I noticed a little pile of fur towards the back of the deck and was nearly giddy with excitement. I figured it must be a baby bunny hole! I ducked down and went farther under the deck to look more closely. 

It wasn't a baby bunny hole. 

It was a dead bird.

I think my throat dropped into my stomach. I grabbed the bird feeder and went inside, somewhat disturbed. 

(The bird feeder had two slugs in it, and that's why it ended up in the basement sink.)

I figured ignoring the dead bird under the deck would be simple enough. How often do I go under the deck, anyway? The problem stayed out of my mind for maybe an entire 14 hours, until Thursday morning, when I was getting ready to leave for work. I'd opened the door from my hallway to the garage, hit the button that opens the garage door, and as the daylight came streaming into the garage I noticed an unusual blob on the cement floor. That unusual blob was a dead, semi-squished, frog.

I know how to solve both of these problems - with a shovel - but I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it. You know, I knew homeownership would present a lot of new challenges, but I just never expected dead animals to be one of those. 

Sunshine

For the most part, I hate getting out of bed. I hit the snooze button three times on a normal day, and then proceed to continue laying in bed for another 10 minutes. I'll sacrifice any number of things, like a warm breakfast, a cup of coffee, the chance to make some phone calls, in order to stay in bed for even 5 minutes longer. Maybe I'm just not a morning person, or maybe it's my obsession with being wrapped in blankets thats the problem. Maybe laying in bed in the morning is my only chance for down time. Maybe I feel safest there. Whatever the reasoning, Tuesday was different than normal. 

Before my alarm went off, before I even opened my eyes, I could see the sun. It was bright, and warm. I smiled. I threw my blankets off of me and just enjoyed it. It was pouring in my windows, filling the entire room. I laid there calmly, in peace. 

After a few minutes my alarm went off and my brain woke up, and I remembered the day that was inevitably going to begin. I wasn't particularly excited about it, but I wasn't particularly depressed about it, either. I asked God for lion-strength, threw my sheets back, stood up, and had a good day.

I love the sun.