Welcome to My Kingdom

I have been feeling vastly uninspired by pretty much everything lately.  I’m not sure if it’s just a case of the winter blues or if my burned-out-ness (don’t judge me) is rearing its nasty little head.  Either way, I’ve been wanting to write even when I do feel like the Queen of Blahs, and I saw this wonderful post which did, in fact, inspire me.  You should thank this person, though I have no idea who she is.

If I could, I would most definitely take each and every one of you lovely people reading this blog out to coffee.  We could chat about life and where we’re at and laugh and just be together.  I would like that very much.

But since many of you who read this live far far away from the great state of Oregon, here’s what would happen if we could.

We would go to any number of trendy hipster coffee shops downtown, and make small talk as we perused the menu, deciding between coffee or hot chocolate or my signature drink, the chocolate chai.  Maybe we’d decide to share a scone or maybe we’d both agree we didn’t really need it.

We’d gather our drinks and make our way to a quieter table in the back, where after settling in, we could really chat it up.  I’d ask how you’ve been doing, how you’re enjoying things and what you’re looking forward to.  Then I’d tell you that things are just ok in my neck of the woods, that I get kind of lonely sometimes and don’t love my job.

If we were really close, I might confess that in reality, my nights of sleepless anxiety about my job have returned for no known reason, and it’s wreaking a small amount of havoc on my life (is there ever really a small amount of havoc??).  I might tell you that it’s been really hard because we don’t have many friends, and after being so close to so many people in college, we are going through withdrawal like woah.  

But then I’d put a positive spin on it, because I’d hate to leave you feeling sad or sorry for me.  I’d tell you that our finances are going well and we’re hoping to even have enough to escape somewhere for a weekend.  I’d tell you that I’m excited to go visit my sister and meet my new niece next month, and that the weather has been so nice lately, how could I possibly be sad?

No matter what, I’d leave feeling better and glad to know you, and to know you care about my life enough to meet with me (or read my blog, see how I did that??).  I’d thank you just for being my friend and leave with a smile on my face, for sure.  

So thanks, everyone.  And when my life has something exciting enough happen to write about it, I promise you’ll be the first one to know. :)

Growing in Winter

One thing everyone talked about upon discovery of my impending move to Oregon was how green things stayed in the winter.  Now, for a word of context here, when you tell someone you're moving, you discover that every single person on the planet has traveled to the exact coordinates you will be moving to, and they are a virtual guidebook of advice, recommendations, and words of warning.

Many of these are false, and you should ignore approximately 74.3% of all such outpourings.  However, this green winter thing is completely true.  I didn't realize just how true until I visited Oklahoma over Christmas and sliced my foot open on the sharp, dry, brown, drab, yucky "grass". (Exaggeration.  No such slashing occurred.)

Despite what "those people" told me, all trees here are not evergreen trees, and some do lose their leaves and look just as dead as any of their Midwestern counterparts.  Or so I thought.  Imagine my surprise, then, when last week I noticed all brown trees and bushes beginning to grow fur.

Or at least that's what it looked like.  Upon closer inspection, there is a variety of grayish-green, fuzzy-looking moss-ish substance on these "dead" trees.  At first, I was horrified.  This ugly, parasitic growth was disgusting!  Preying on these innocent trees attempting to hibernate for the winter, how dare they/it??

However, the longer and closer I looked, the more beautiful it became.  There is something magical about seeing the foliage I had assumed was done producing, ready for a long season of barrenness, coming to life again.  Though it was not the life I anticipated, it was lovely in a completely unexpected way.

What that tree is experiencing resonates with me and gives me hope.  Though there is no snow on the ground, I am experiencing my own winter.  I feel barren quite a bit lately.  My heart's desire is to pray, yet no words come.  I long to read my Bible, but I can't seem to focus on the words.  I ache to cry out to God, but I seem to have lost my voice.

And yet.

This tree assures me that something is happening inside of me.  Though I feel no movement, I find hope that there is a slow growth occurring inside my heart, a clearing-away of that which seems beautiful but lasts for only season.  Though it may appear ugly at first, it will become enchanting.

As I continue to struggle toward a firm foundation for my life and my marriage, I will take comfort that winter does not exist for God, but instead He is always planting, watering, and waiting for the fruit to appear.  I will take notice and eagerly wait alongside Him.