Last night I was escorted downtown by two men in uniform. No I wasn't apprehended for creating a coffee-induced disturbance. And I'm not dating the fire department.
I was on a "safe walk."
I had an appointment on Portage Ave. last night. It's wierd but I always walk faster and look behind me more when I'm downtown after dark.
(I once heard a transsexual on TV say the difference - going from walking down the street as a man to walking down the street as a woman - is that as a woman he/she felt like she had "dollar bills taped to her back." All of a sudden he/she had something people wanted to steal that she couldn't hide in her trunk - her body. Sounds wierd, but it resonated with me.)
I feel quite fine walking near my home after dark, even though I've never had a bad experience downtown, but my car and house have been vandalized in the suburbs. Illogicality aside, I'm obviously not alone in my core-area-paranioa.
Because when I arrived at my meeting I was handed a phone number for the Downtown Biz and told I should call "call for a Safe Walk." The person who answered the phone asked where I was and when I'd be leaving. When I left my meeting two men with walkie-talkies were waiting for me outside to walk me to my car.
Nice.
It felt so different from my walk there. I was still a semi-attractive whimp with a purse. I was still downtown after dark. But who I was and where I was didn't seem so important...
...as who was walking beside me.
I walked a little taller. I smiled at the wild-looking people at the bus stop (who are probably more sane than I am but look intimidating). And I thought about all the things I'm facing this year - teaching College for the first time, praying that my kids' school won't close, helping an autistic child learn multiplication - and I realized I wasn't as scared as I was a few weeks ago.
I'm still the same sleep-deprived, over-emotional, neurotically-perfectionistic person. I've still got the same insanely-overwhelming life. But that doesn't feel so important anymore.
Because I know who's walking beside me.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007
My God-list
I'm a firm believer in praying about anything. Not that I always remember to pray. But my philosophy is if it's big enough to worry about, it's worth praying about. That would include parking spots, stretchmarks, and dryers that go cachunk-cachunk when they're not supposed to.
My husband, the wanna-be time management coach, says the act of writing things down on paper gets them out of your head, freeing up your brain for more important tasks (such as, say, baking him his favorite pie). So this spring I made a "God-list" of things I didn't think I could afford, to get them off my internal Greed button and into God's hands.
This week I found the list and it's very interesting:
Occupational Therapy for K. - I convinced an OT at the Autism Service to see K., (covered by Manitoba Health). We've had our second session (out of 5) and she is so helpful. An example: She gave us a wiggly seat cushion - K. now sits for meals instead of standing, wandering or tipping over.)
Speech Language Therapy - Will be covered by T.'s new health plan, whenever I find a therapist.
Summer Camp - This spring we got a letter from our caseworker saying K. qualified for a free one-on-one worker to accompany him if he attended camp. I found out Camp Assiniboia has a subsidy program. K. spent a wonderful week at day camp.
Swimming lessons - Both kids took lessons and both learned to float on their own this summer! The pool even gave K. private lessons for the same price as group lessons because of his diagnosis.
New windows - We found a renovation company that gave us an amazing quote. Our new windows are ordered and should hopefully be installed before the snow flies. (I'm even getting grilles - I love grilles!)
New bed - My brothers moved out of my parents home last year, leaving them with more beds than they needed.
RRSPs - I called a friend who works as a financial adviser and we found a way to swing a small monthly contribution. She may have even found us a cheaper life insurance.
Basement Bathroom - Okay, I still don't have my bathroom, but we did clean out some of the junk in the basement to make room.
Cool, huh?
I'm not saying this to brag or gloat. It wasn't an easy summer by any means. T. injured his back at the beginning of July and God still hasn't answered our prayers for healing. I spent the summer doing all the yardwork T. couldn't! We didn't get any holiday time and Tony wasn't up to doing much around the city either.
But this exercise just reaffirms in my mind that I have a heavenly Father who loves it when I trust him with my dreams. However small.
My husband, the wanna-be time management coach, says the act of writing things down on paper gets them out of your head, freeing up your brain for more important tasks (such as, say, baking him his favorite pie). So this spring I made a "God-list" of things I didn't think I could afford, to get them off my internal Greed button and into God's hands.
This week I found the list and it's very interesting:
Occupational Therapy for K. - I convinced an OT at the Autism Service to see K., (covered by Manitoba Health). We've had our second session (out of 5) and she is so helpful. An example: She gave us a wiggly seat cushion - K. now sits for meals instead of standing, wandering or tipping over.)
Speech Language Therapy - Will be covered by T.'s new health plan, whenever I find a therapist.
Summer Camp - This spring we got a letter from our caseworker saying K. qualified for a free one-on-one worker to accompany him if he attended camp. I found out Camp Assiniboia has a subsidy program. K. spent a wonderful week at day camp.
Swimming lessons - Both kids took lessons and both learned to float on their own this summer! The pool even gave K. private lessons for the same price as group lessons because of his diagnosis.
New windows - We found a renovation company that gave us an amazing quote. Our new windows are ordered and should hopefully be installed before the snow flies. (I'm even getting grilles - I love grilles!)
New bed - My brothers moved out of my parents home last year, leaving them with more beds than they needed.
RRSPs - I called a friend who works as a financial adviser and we found a way to swing a small monthly contribution. She may have even found us a cheaper life insurance.
Basement Bathroom - Okay, I still don't have my bathroom, but we did clean out some of the junk in the basement to make room.
Cool, huh?
I'm not saying this to brag or gloat. It wasn't an easy summer by any means. T. injured his back at the beginning of July and God still hasn't answered our prayers for healing. I spent the summer doing all the yardwork T. couldn't! We didn't get any holiday time and Tony wasn't up to doing much around the city either.
But this exercise just reaffirms in my mind that I have a heavenly Father who loves it when I trust him with my dreams. However small.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Night
I have mixed feelings about a few things. One of them is TV. After the kids go to bed my legs ache, I'm hungry, and I have laundry to fold, nails to paint, and emails to answer. So I get out the snacks, lay back in my lazyboy, and settle in for an hour or two of CSI or TLC. It helps me unwind and gives me something to think about while I iron.
Then I turn it off and think, "I'm wasting my life!" I could have read a good book (say my Bible maybe) or had a meaningful conversation with my husband. Or maybe gotten to bed before midnight for a change.
Which brings me to another thing I'm ambivilent about: sleep. I crave it all day long as I yawn and caffeinate my way through my day. But in the evening I see the mess the kids have made and I keep doing "one more thing" to fix it. Then, when I'm finally satisfied that the kitchen doesn't smell like rotting salmon, and the kids will have clean underwear in the morning, and the hallway is clear of things (such as Lego) that will make me go bump in the night, I'm ready to unwind. First TV, then a book in bed. Or talking Tony to sleep. It's a ridiculous routine that does not foster health, happiness or relationship.
But I'm afraid I won't be able to fall asleep, afraid of the things I might think about if I stop moving. I preach the value of reflection, but some times (especially between 11 PM and 7 AM) it terrifies me.
Night is a lonely time - you can't pick up the phone and call someone and no one answers your emails. It's a time when you find out whether you really believe God will never leave you alone or whether they're just words.
Sometimes they're still just words. Words worth reflecting on.
Then I turn it off and think, "I'm wasting my life!" I could have read a good book (say my Bible maybe) or had a meaningful conversation with my husband. Or maybe gotten to bed before midnight for a change.
Which brings me to another thing I'm ambivilent about: sleep. I crave it all day long as I yawn and caffeinate my way through my day. But in the evening I see the mess the kids have made and I keep doing "one more thing" to fix it. Then, when I'm finally satisfied that the kitchen doesn't smell like rotting salmon, and the kids will have clean underwear in the morning, and the hallway is clear of things (such as Lego) that will make me go bump in the night, I'm ready to unwind. First TV, then a book in bed. Or talking Tony to sleep. It's a ridiculous routine that does not foster health, happiness or relationship.
But I'm afraid I won't be able to fall asleep, afraid of the things I might think about if I stop moving. I preach the value of reflection, but some times (especially between 11 PM and 7 AM) it terrifies me.
Night is a lonely time - you can't pick up the phone and call someone and no one answers your emails. It's a time when you find out whether you really believe God will never leave you alone or whether they're just words.
Sometimes they're still just words. Words worth reflecting on.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
My week as a potential convert
This summer I had the unfortunate experience of being "evangelized."
I dropped my kids off at a vacation Bible school at another church and K.'s teacher got it into her head that I was a heathen. (I said I was looking for a place to take the kids - I meant a summer program, she assumed I meant our first ever church service.) She tried to sell me on her church and get me to go to some seeker's Bible study across the city.
She actually asked K. right in front of me if he'd explained to me what the cross meant. K. wrinkled his nose at her and said, "Uh, she knows!" in an "are you crazy, lady?" tone of voice!
Yeah, I think they mentioned crosses somewhere in seminary. Or was that my 34 years of weekly Sunday school? It sounds so familiar...
It did feel kind of humorous. And I appreciated her concern for me. But on the other hand, it was a little icky.
Amy Johnson Frykholm, author of Rapture Culture: Left Behind in Evangelical America, writes, "I found witnessing to be an objectifying experience. No matter in what way I articulated or failed to articulate a reasonable position for myself, my lack of belief turned me into an object....To open oneself to evangelism is to be willing to offer one's own views for critique by someone who has already judged them to be inadequate."
I get that. I didn't like feeling like someone's project - a broken soul in need of fixing. An opportunity for her to earn a gold star on her Sunday school chart and a round of applause at her next Bible study meeting.
I'm sure half of you think I'm a heretic ("You should know how important evangelism is!") and the other half a hypocrite ("You talk about your faith all the time!"). Well, my experience being mistaken for an atheist reinforced in my mind that there's talking faith and then there's talking faith. (And I'm sure I'm guilty of doing the wrong one.)
Maybe a few words on why Christians feel such an urgent (and sometimes obnoxious) need to share. For most of us it's like my friend whose son was cured of severe headaches by a change in diet. She tells everyone about the naturopath who discovered her son's allergy, in hopes of helping someone else. I can handle listening to pretty much any opinion when it comes with that kind of sincerity and compassion.
Other evangelizers are like the Tupperware consultant who throws Freezermates into every conversation (partly out of concern for the welfare of leftovers everywhere) but mostly because it's good for business. Fine for a hostess party, not so fun when it comes to my soul.
Here are some tips for respectful faith conversations:
Keep it natural. If you twitch and sweat whenever you bring up what you believe, chances are all they'll remember is the smell. People don't trust nervous-looking car salesmen, so they probably wouldn't trust a clammy Christian either. Ask yourself, are you talking because of some guilty need to meet a quota, or because God has done something in your life worth sharing? (And if he hasn't, where have you been all your life?)
Make sure the other person cares. If their eyes glaze over, they're not interested.
If you've been the victim of an awkward faith conversation (or monologue), thanks for being patient. After all, how many times have you gotten carried away talking about your exciting renovation project, disgusting injury, or the vacation that flopped?
I dropped my kids off at a vacation Bible school at another church and K.'s teacher got it into her head that I was a heathen. (I said I was looking for a place to take the kids - I meant a summer program, she assumed I meant our first ever church service.) She tried to sell me on her church and get me to go to some seeker's Bible study across the city.
She actually asked K. right in front of me if he'd explained to me what the cross meant. K. wrinkled his nose at her and said, "Uh, she knows!" in an "are you crazy, lady?" tone of voice!
Yeah, I think they mentioned crosses somewhere in seminary. Or was that my 34 years of weekly Sunday school? It sounds so familiar...
It did feel kind of humorous. And I appreciated her concern for me. But on the other hand, it was a little icky.
Amy Johnson Frykholm, author of Rapture Culture: Left Behind in Evangelical America, writes, "I found witnessing to be an objectifying experience. No matter in what way I articulated or failed to articulate a reasonable position for myself, my lack of belief turned me into an object....To open oneself to evangelism is to be willing to offer one's own views for critique by someone who has already judged them to be inadequate."
I get that. I didn't like feeling like someone's project - a broken soul in need of fixing. An opportunity for her to earn a gold star on her Sunday school chart and a round of applause at her next Bible study meeting.
I'm sure half of you think I'm a heretic ("You should know how important evangelism is!") and the other half a hypocrite ("You talk about your faith all the time!"). Well, my experience being mistaken for an atheist reinforced in my mind that there's talking faith and then there's talking faith. (And I'm sure I'm guilty of doing the wrong one.)
Maybe a few words on why Christians feel such an urgent (and sometimes obnoxious) need to share. For most of us it's like my friend whose son was cured of severe headaches by a change in diet. She tells everyone about the naturopath who discovered her son's allergy, in hopes of helping someone else. I can handle listening to pretty much any opinion when it comes with that kind of sincerity and compassion.
Other evangelizers are like the Tupperware consultant who throws Freezermates into every conversation (partly out of concern for the welfare of leftovers everywhere) but mostly because it's good for business. Fine for a hostess party, not so fun when it comes to my soul.
Here are some tips for respectful faith conversations:
Keep it natural. If you twitch and sweat whenever you bring up what you believe, chances are all they'll remember is the smell. People don't trust nervous-looking car salesmen, so they probably wouldn't trust a clammy Christian either. Ask yourself, are you talking because of some guilty need to meet a quota, or because God has done something in your life worth sharing? (And if he hasn't, where have you been all your life?)
Make sure the other person cares. If their eyes glaze over, they're not interested.
If you've been the victim of an awkward faith conversation (or monologue), thanks for being patient. After all, how many times have you gotten carried away talking about your exciting renovation project, disgusting injury, or the vacation that flopped?
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