Categories: uncategorized
Date: 17 February 2008 09:00:57
Yesterday was an amazing day for me, it was one which happened partly by accident and partly through intention. The time and space I have been craving was finally created.
I was meant to be going to London, but cancelled because, for various reasons, I felt the duties of being a mum were more important this weekend. However, I was determined this was going to be a "me" day and so I didn't bring any work at all home with me. That means between now and Tuesday when I am back in I am going to make myself stop.
A friend who knows me very well and whom is kind enough to be a sounding board for my dreams sent me a card saying "refuse to believe there are things you can not do". When I opened it yesterday morning it was a welcome surprise and both an encouragement and a challenge to me. At the moment I am in one of those times of waiting where my self-doubt is growing and I am not sure which I fear most rejection or acceptance.
Then it was off to the hair dressers where I expressed my desire, need for change, yet the dilemma I had because everything I liked was actually wrong for who I am. In the end my hairdresser, who is an absolute wonder, translated my desires for a short crop or sharp edged cut but need for a low maitenance, tidy, style which did not bring attention to my glasses or fat face in to a softer style which is medium short and a bit choppy. Basically, according to my daughter I now have an emo cut, but one which is suitable for a woman of a certain age.
When I came back I sat and read, and read, and read, interupted only by a short walk on the beach. It is a long time since I finished a book in under 24 hours but yesterday I did it with The Road to Daybreak by Henri Nouwen. I don't know if it reflects my mood at the moment or what but this book really did feel like water being poured onto a parched soil when I was reading. It's one of those books which I know I will have to revisit often to remind me of some things, yet it was a book which just on the first reading touched parts of me nothing has touched for a long time.
It's a years worth of journal writings from a priest and international speaker, as he moves from top flight academic to humbly serving in a community for people with disabilities in the mid 80's. Yet it is a more than this, it is like a series of blog entries from a man who struggled with a lack of belonging and depression and was constantly looking for "real faith", despite clearly being a very devout man. It is a year in the life of a man who was seeking to rely fully on God and live his faith in all areas of his life, whilst struggling to deal with the realities of an increasingly secular society. It was a man who was seeking to belong whilst being naturally different. It was the story of a man seeking to disern the correct next step of the journey and not only understand but live the demands of poverty and chastity. It is a year in the life of a man who truly sought to live the gospel.
It was not a comfortable book to read; it challenged me to my need to return to prayer,on the importance of my accountability friendships, on what I really want out of life and the place Jesus / God has in this life. It also challenged me on my treatment of the disabled and of the "other", I talk alot of inclusion but realise that I have no idea.