October « 2004 « octolilly [through the years]

Archive for October, 2004

de-clutter.

Monday, October 4th, 2004

Taking an idea from Katy, I’ve decided to de-clutter my life.

It began with 2 hours of unpacking boxes that I’d left at my parent’s house. I sorted through art supplies, old college papers, HUNDREDS of books, odd knickknacks, and way too many clothes. On a side note, those of you who know my addiction for little journals, well…I found five blank journals!

My stacks are these:
– Recycling Center Stack
– Goodwill/Hospice Stack (haven’t decided which one yet)
– Things Mom Will Want Stack
– EBAY Stack

Eventually, when I’ve done most of the grunt work, I’ll pass along the link for my Ebay items. You might find something you can’t live without!

And, I might scan some drawings I did in high school. Be prepared to laugh.

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grand central station.

Sunday, October 3rd, 2004

I first noticed something was amiss when our pianist jumped up and ran off stage to answer her ringing cell phone. I could hear a few instruments in the orchestra dying off and I heard the cute little boy who plays the cymbals giggling. But since he is always doing something interesting, I kept playing. When the cymbals are only half your size, you are given much more leeway.

Then Heather’s reed started doing something very funky and each time she played a certain note, a very odd rumbly noise would happen. I could hear her snorting on her clarinet and believe me, that is something that will make you laugh even if you are normally quite Pious and Calm at church.

And then during ensemble, the lady who sings in front of me suddenly grabbed her cell phone and ran out of the sanctuary. Everyone tried to act like it was perfectly normal and so we kept singing. But apparently the “unusual” things had shaken us up a bit because everyone stopped singing after the second verse. Everyone but me that is. WE STILL HAD ONE VERSE LEFT. So, I began singing.

When I realized that I WAS THE ONLY ONE SINGING IN THE ENTIRE CHURCH I glanced toward my Pastor (who had rushed to play the piano because the pianist was standing in the vestibule talking on her cell phone) to find him doing his best to hold his laughter in. But he nodded his head and I kept on. Eventually everyone else chimed in and sang along.

Needless to say, we were all trying our very best to hold our giggles in. I was blushing and trying to find my music for the offertory while Emily kept whispering what on earth is going on?

Pastor Jeff was snickering by the time he reached the pulpit.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m preaching at Grand Central Station. Anyone else need to leave?”

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limits.

Sunday, October 3rd, 2004

“There is a time for everything.
And a season for every activity under heaven.” – Ecclesiastes 3:1

I’m slowly realizing that these are not the same time.

Hungering to pick up the violin, the responsibilities of helping to teach in Sunday school, giving of my best for orchestra, working a 40 hour week, aching to read the stack of books beside the Large Comfy Chair, needing to hang the beautiful red curtains I bought to separate my little washroom area from my kitchen, gathering information on Poland so I know better how to write our Polish missionary, doing Pilates everyday and praying to God that I will not bang my feet on the glass table any longer, wanting to have the piano moved down here right away, stifling the urge to scan every single picture I have simply because I now have a gorgeous flat as pie scanner, wishing restoration was a given, feeling overwhelmed at the thought of writing 50,000 words on a topic that is very real to my heart, longing for the bitter cold days of Autumn to arrive, hoping that I’m finally learning how serious some choices are, having to figure up the cost for selling pigs (Can you believe people are wanting to BUY these pigs now? Good Lord. They are just pigs!), wanting to buy a guitar because I miss playing so much, and so much more.

But I only have 24 hours in each day. And it’s hard to balance all of that with the realization that seeking His face is most important. Maybe it’s not difficult for you. But I’m a normal girl who struggles with remembering that I wasn’t made for these tangible, small bits.

So if the curtains continue to lie on my loveseat and if the stack of books beside the Large Comfy Chair goes unread, I will at least choose to do the things that matter right now.

I’m learning my limits.

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whatever the cost.

Saturday, October 2nd, 2004

I found myself opening an old hat box this morning. The lid doesn’t fit properly, and so I tugged on it for quite sometime before it came loose.

Part of me didn’t want to open it, especially knowing that I’d end up in tears. But part of me ached to remember.

The letters and cards were filled with memories that gripped me tightly. And now I sit weeping.

In one letter, I found this quote by C. S. Lewis:

“Though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and, therefore, it is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of these sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him.”

I never imagined the cost would hurt so much.

Oh Father, teach me to have revulsion for sin. Always.

“Of the things that I hate when I look at my life,
the worst is my being alone…”

– Don Chaffer

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mimi.

Friday, October 1st, 2004

A year ago today, I touched your face and said goodbye. My tears were raw, my grief was real, and my questions were many.

I miss your laughter. Your stories. The nights on the back deck, trying to pretend that your cigarette smoke didn’t bother me. Complimenting you on your jewelry even though it was Tacky as pie.

My grief is somewhat selfish. I wanted you to be apart of my life for a much longer time. But I know you are in a better place. You are with the One who made you.

I love you, Mimi.

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octolilly [through the years]