What to do.

"Early to bed, early to rise..." Bleah.

I can't figure out how to get back on the horse of being on time for work. In fact, I'm not sure I ever have achieved true progress in this area - just a few mornings of accidental punctuality. I am who I am. But why am I late?

I remember missing the bus in 7th grade. I remember my Dad, fuming, racing me to school. I remember that I had to go to detention for being tardy to first period 7 times in one semester. Apparently, I've got a long-standing issue here.

I've said it stems from my having "no concept of time." I really don't estimate how long things will take with any accuracy at all. "I'll be there in 20 minutes." Why do I even SAY things like this, when I know I'm going to be wrong? I'll inevitably look at the clock, and think, "Oh, I've still got time to...just one last..." Ugh.

I'm a mess. Other than deliverance from the Spirit of Late, how can I make real and lasting change when it comes to being on time for things? And WHY is it so hard for me?

Please, feel free to offer any insight or motivation. This is like pulling out my own teeth.

Granular Vocabulary

One of my 7th graders tipped me off to a website that will feed hungry people for free, if you know your words. Go to freerice.com and check it out - they'll donate 10 grains of rice for each correct answer you can give, and you can view totals as you go. The project is linked to the UN, and various other relief organizations.

I guess 10 grains is a start?

It's actually kind of fun to know that I can simultaneously increase my vocabulary AND stop world hunger. Check, and check.

The DMV is your friend.

When I left for the DMV on my lunch break today, I expected to spend the better part of my free period sitting on one of those long pews in the waiting area, watching the little sign flash customer numbers in no particular order. I know how it goes - and I knew that my attempting to achieve registration renewal AND an address change in the time I had available would be a stretch. Lunch hour + government office = lines out the door, and the need for some reading material. I packed a book in my purse.

I got in line (which was, by the way, just barely inside the door) and prayed that I had brought everything I needed. Seems like every time, I forget something that holds everything up. A second form of ID, my kindergarten transcripts... I watched the woman behind the information desk (where the sign says EVERYONE must stop before going any further) and noticed that they had the right woman for the job - she was able, even when turning away frustrated citizens (who forgot to bring some necessary form or the blood of a goat) to maintain a cheery smile that seemed to say, "I look forward to helping you when you're ready to do this my way."

I stepped up and said what I'd been practicing saying in my head while watching her turn away the 3 people in front of me. Not many make it past her to the pews. "I need to change my address and renew my registration with the new address." I prayed. Do you remember the scene from Neverending Story where the boy is trying to get past the two creepy statues that singe you with their laser beam eyes if you don't have a pure heart?

She gave me two forms, and a number. B605.

My number got called, and I was in and out in no more than 10 minutes. I had to pay the $31 fee to renew, but the little sticker for the back of my license was free. I was back at my desk in less than an hour.

So, I just had to say it. The DMV isn't so bad after all. I've been putting this off, thinking I'd be stuck there without food or water for longer than I've ever fasted before - but no. I still got my lunch break.

Wheat Thins and hummus.

thankfully yours

There might be something big happening. I have only begun to scratch at the thing. But the thing is there. With me. Moving towards me, from behind some window, or on the other side of my drinking glass. All wavy and thick, I can make out the shape of someone and hear the response they are having to the sound of my breathing. I am in need of a vacation.

On Tuesday I will leave school and not come back for 5 days. I will eat and talk with family, and think about who I have spent my time with for the past year - where I have decided my heart should go. My body? I haven't seen Colorado in some time. I haven't seen Nebraska in even longer. I am busy making a new home, in a new city. I suppose I should quit thinking of somewhere else as home, when I've lived here for four years. They said it might take a while. It has.

Distance to and from make no sense any more. To think of closeness in relationship in degrees seems like a silly thing to do. Why are humans so linear? It's unfortunate that we have brains built for time. Our spirits can't make sense of it. We are, in fact, supposed to be timeless, fixing ourselves somewhere beyond it. This life, this time, should not be home. We've forgotten.

I believe there can be seasons, even in friendship. I know a girl, and I can't get her time unless I am having a crisis. I can't bring myself to schedule an appointment two weeks in advance - I will not resolve myself to the idea that we have to do friendship like grown-ups. It sucks, but I miss her and would rather let this season go by us, without straining against it too much. Trying too hard messes things up. Instead, I know that we've gone deep in the past, and there will be no breaking the foundation we've established between us. Somehow, despite the months that have passed, I know we will eventually be sipping coffee and gesturing wildly with our hands as we catch up on life. I love her. And I won't lose her - I think I'd have to try to lose her. Real relationship rests.

Rests.

"Love suffers long and is kind;
love does not envy;
love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;
does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil;
does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails..."

I Corinthians 13:4-8a

the coffee drunk

I think the staff of the Charles Finney School needs to detox. We drink a LOT of coffee. I used to make a pot and drink it every day at work. I now make my coffee at home, and drink only what fits in my travel mug - except for the days when I ALSO fill up at work, or on the way to work, or on the way home, or later that night, or if I happen to bring a THERMOS. I just sort of enjoy my thermos, for it's style. Stainless steel, and pretty slick.

I have discovered that even my small habit has affected my performance. I can hardly form a coherent thought while teaching my first period social studies class until I've had a significant portion of what's in my mug. Usually, I'm fine.

But then there are days like today that I'm a little more accident prone than usual. I have been running into things all day. I have knocked things over, dropped things, splashed and spilled...and the thing is that I'd NORMALLY say something like, "Gee, guess I need some coffee." But I've already had it. Is the caffeine having the opposite affect after so long? Am I just in a chronic state of needing more? Has my habit started controlling ME???

I have a problem.

Draining the pool

If all my options were open all the time, I'd be in trouble. I'm thankful that someday, I will find out that the decisions I made today were right, or wrong. To think that doors never close would be a horrible place to be - we need change to keep moving. I need it. I need to know that my choices led me from one room to another - from one side of the wall to the other. I think (optimistically) that there are better, more beautiful rooms for me to see in this place God's given me. Whatever it is.

There is a day every autumn where I find myself reevaluating. It's like I take all the pieces out of the puzzle I've been working on and go, "Wait - was this a monkey or a unicorn?" It's the moment I check the box to make sure I know what the picture is supposed to be. I think through all the things that make up my life, take up my time, hold weight in my heart. Maybe it's the changing of seasons that puts me in this mood - leaves falling, blusters of snow showing up, darkness when there used to be daylight. It shakes things up. Makes me aware, again, that the world is turning under me (over me?) and maybe it's time for change.

Time to clean up. Time to prepare. Straighten what's gotten tangled, bolden what's become weak. Time to start again.

Whenever I go there, I remember what I always set out to be about - dwelling. I want to dwell well. I want to be right where I am supposed to be, and content with knowing it. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to make that stick on a day to day basis. I am continually plagued with this need to question.

Probably, the questioning is a product of having been raised to believe that God has a will, and you might not be in it. Phrases like "if it's God's will" and "being out of God's will" made me think that the possibility of NOT being in God's will was greater than the chance of me finding myself in it on any given day. That if I hadn't done the maintenance, I would most definitely have fallen out of it. Like getting plaque if you don't brush regularly. It will happen.

I guess there's some element of truth to this. I mean, neglecting your spiritual journey with the Father will make you lose focus in other important areas. You'll probably still be rolling in the car, but you've forgotten where you're headed, and have let up on the gas. But to be led to believe that God's will - and being IN God's will - were like this place up a river that you've got to keep working and striving to get to, or like getting a door to open against an especially forceful gust of wind...doesn't this seem like an awful lot of work? What about love?

If God is at all like the good father portrayed in the scriptures, I have to believe he's going to make it as easy as possible to find him, and even easier to stay once you're there. Why the prodigal ever left is beyond me. Fattened calf and all...

Good dads teach you to drive. Mine sat in the passenger's seat while I cried out for more instructions - he would simply tell me I was "fine" and keep a calm voice. He would let me experience mistakes in technique so I'd learn what it felt like, and what to do about it. He worked the fear out of me.

And he stayed in the car.

Maybe God's will comes to us. Maybe we're not slipping in and out of it so much as we're kicking God out of our car when we think we've "got it." Then, when we realize we're lost and confused, we're like, "Why, oh WHY have you forsaken me?" Stupid student drivers. We never have to go it alone. We never have to be without. We ought to never stop asking what next, and realize that when there's silence, maybe we're supposed to listen and learn. Maybe we're "fine" and should stop panicking.

Anyway, time to make sure I am still in the car with Jesus. Time to make sure we're headed where we meant to go.

I remember my drivers ed teacher giving me instructions, and my being confused. He stopped talking, and let me take the wrong turn, and end up on the expressway. I was scared. We were only on for one exit, but after that I knew where I'd gone wrong! Never made the same mistake again. Maybe, sometimes, good teachers are silent.

Too many metaphors?