Tuesday, July 12, 2011


Just when the summer seems the most insufferable, on a late afternoon, the clouds roll in. Dramatic cracks of thunder warn of the coming storm. The cool downdraft blows the thick heat and humidity away, and after the rain, I go for a run. My shoes feel soft and spongy on the damp pavement, the air feels wonderful in my lungs and I fly around the park in record time, maybe. Maybe not; but I feel good, and that’s something.

The clouds make twilight seem earlier. The wind rattles down drops from heavy-laden leaves and it feels like autumn for a moment. The evening lantern orbs are lit, guiding my way home, and a few timid fireflies make their way around low branches.

I notice in the distance, silvery leaves hanging on branches, cascading over the earth. I approach and see a tree down, the tallest tree in the park? Perhaps. I walk around the wreckage and see that there is still a mighty tall stump with lots-of-life left standing. The top of the tree (mostly likely hit by lightning) lies on the ground, and has taken down a giant branch of another tree. It’s hard to see where one stops and the other begins. I walk to what was the highest point of this tallest tree and pluck one leaf, to keep.

I think of the mighty storm, bringing the top of the tree to a child’s level, to the ground. I think of the giant stump which will probably make it, and how these trials are part of nature, but survival is too. I think of the little leaf in my hand, and how I will forget what it is and throw it away. I make my way home. It is dusk. The night is beautiful.

Monday, May 09, 2011

Twelve Days

This morning, I'm awake before dawn. It's dark out, and the fan blows mild May breezes over me. I decide to get up, and enjoy a breakfast of several clementine oranges and coffee on the balcony.

There is much to do today. After much agonizing, striving, and finally peace, I have a new job. It's a different setting with a different population, but it's still what I went to school to do, and enjoy. So many reasons to be thankful.

But I'm not in my new job yet. The next two weeks will be wrapping up the old. Terminating with all my clients is like breaking up, over a period of 2 and a half weeks, with 25 or so people. I've walked with all these people, to varying degrees, for a while now, some for years. I've grown to love them, in the midst of their stories. Walking away means trusting that God over them is greater, and that it is not me who sustains. Walking away means acknowledging that I am just a humble dispenser of any good that happened in that office, not the source. It means trusting people, in the dignity given them by God, to have their own inner resources, and to be ok, by God's grace. It keeps me from becoming self-important as a helper. And it's hard.

I'm so thankful for a weekend that took me completely outside that world of work. Time to go back. Two more weeks.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Breaking A Long Silence

I haven't written in a long time. Partially because I feel like my thoughts tend to repeat themselves and I've already said it, partially because I felt I had no news that was impersonal enough to share online but personal enough to be interesting, and partially because I just didn't get around to it.

This winter has hung on like nobody's business! I'm so ready for Spring.

I wanted to break my silence with a song... this is the opening song of a folk opera by Anais Mitchell. I'm fascinated!