During our year in Bangkok, we quickly realized that emissions standards were not exactly what they are stateside. Unmuffled motorcycle noises had no difficulty rising to our apartment on the 21st floor, and the air down on Sukhumvit, the main thoroughfare closest to our home, was positively grey with exhaust from cars, buses, bikes, and street vendors' charcoal fires; long periods of engines idling in heavy traffic didn't help matters. This Texas girl quickly missed seeing vast expanses of blue sky. We typically wore earplugs outside to protect against the noise, but for some reason, maybe unavailability or simple vanity, we never tried filter masks for the pollution.
The poor air quality really hit home when we were walking through a mall and saw what appeared to be a medical kiosk, with several people sitting in chairs breathing through plastic masks. It turned out that some clever entrepreneurs had turned the pollution to a profit by selling oxygen to shoppers, a literal breather before heading back outside.
At that time the discovery was a cultural experience and a shared laugh. Almost six years later, it ripened into the following poem:
Praise
1/22/2007
Like ten minutes of breathing
Pure oxygen
Bought from a booth
On the mall esplanade
As fortification
Against the diesel fumes and incense
Oppressing the lungs of the passersby
On Sukhumvit outside.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Glimpses of Gratitude 6: A Dog's Life
Hi, dere. Dis Ebony Dawg here. My mama sez I gots to do dis today cuz she's on staycation or sumpin and not working on compewter dis week. Not sure what dat staycation word means. "Stay" I git. "Cat" I git (blech!). The "ion" part at the end I'm not so sure about but I hope it's fud or a belly rub or sumpin else good like dat.
Or sittin on de couch keepin de peeples out of trouble with a cartoon. Still gittin dem trained. Honestly, sometimes it's like herding cats.
So anyway, dat's what's going on here dis week. Oh, and I'm sposed to say thanks for some stuff, too. Here's my thankful list:
- a family to love me and bring me home from the shelter
- bacon
- belly rubs
- rawhide bones and my Kong and my treat ball
- blankies
- my couch and my big chair and my beds
- walks with Dad by the creek
- bacon
- licking the peeples' frozen yogurt cup
- chasing squirrels
- bacon
- havin all my peeples at home where I can keep my eyes and paws on them
Friday, September 24, 2010
Nature Walk
The change of seasons has taken the edge off the heat here, and I am surprised to see the changes on the walk down the driveway to the mailbox and back, which is still more or less my limit. The big, showy changes like fall color or the first blooming trees and bulbs of spring always attracted my attention on my once-habitual long daily walks, but when my world was bigger the smaller details under my nose escaped my notice.
This year, I see, really see, that liriope blooms have filled the bed under the live oak;
the lantana by the curb is covered in gold;
and the live oak itself is dropping acorns.
The back garden still looks like summer, with roses, Turk's cap, okra, and cantaloupe not yet ready to close up shop.
Wherever Providence has you today, kind readers, may the Lord open your eyes to the beauty in your world and fill your heart with gratitude to Him who made it.
This year, I see, really see, that liriope blooms have filled the bed under the live oak;
the lantana by the curb is covered in gold;
and the live oak itself is dropping acorns.
The back garden still looks like summer, with roses, Turk's cap, okra, and cantaloupe not yet ready to close up shop.
Wherever Providence has you today, kind readers, may the Lord open your eyes to the beauty in your world and fill your heart with gratitude to Him who made it.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Landmarks on the Journey
This illness flare has been a strange experience for me. The onset of symptoms was as rapid and dramatic as sliding down a mountain. Once the doctors unraveled the various issues involved, the recovery began. To continue the metaphor, the healing has resembled ascending the same mountain on a winding trail that only gains a yard in elevation per week and sometimes levels off or dips back down for a while. It does seem that my health is improving, but it's as slow as sanctification.
As on any trail, there are mile markers and geographic landmarks along the way. In this journey, for me, those are taking the form of special events on the calendar or activities resumed. Going to church for the first time in six weeks: mile marker. Going to church and being able to stand for the hymns even though I couldn't sing: mile marker. Leaving the house for a date night meal: mile marker. Video night at my parents' house: mile marker. Doing laundry by myself: mile marker. Changing the bed linens almost independently: mile marker. Driving the mile to the library book drop and back: mile marker.
Other landmarks have been more disappointing. Family events, holidays, church opportunities rise into view ahead on the trail, and I think, "Maybe by [my nephew's birthday, my sister's move, Labor Day, the women's conference, our vacation] I'll be strong enough to participate and enjoy it." Then the path winds around again, and the landmark turns out not to be straight ahead after all. We were able to eat at a restaurant instead of at home for our anniversary, for which I give thanks, but otherwise these hopes may as well have been heat mirages on a Texas highway in August.
One of those landmarks, a Beth Moore simulcast at my parents' church down the street, came and went this past weekend. I marked it on the calendar in May or June, but it was not a good idea to spend my limited energy on attending even part of the day's teachings. Another marker lies ahead next week, the time off from work Al scheduled back in May. We have stopped thinking, "Maybe by vacation I'll be strong enough to go for long walks, attend a concert, travel, visit the botanic garden, . . ." but we still plan to enjoy the time with each other and away from schedules, alarms, and as many chores as we can manage to avoid. All three Lord of the Rings movies are ready for the player, too.
Looking back to the missed women's event and ahead to a vacation different than we'd expected, I am remembering last year's Living Proof Live event, "The Heart of Your Desires." In a number of ways, I was in transition, and I arrived at the conference anticipating that something in the message would meet me at the point of my need. I knew God had brought me to that place and had a purpose in that time.
Through the course of the messages, Beth talked about how, when God says no to the desires of our heart, He may be taking us deeper, to the heart of our desires. Sometimes the desire we're most aware of is only the surface desire and actually masks something deeper that can only be revealed and satisfied by stripping away the superficial longing. She also regaled the listeners with a story of her grandson becoming so obsessed with the chocolate sheet cake to end the meal that he refused to eat a single bite of the supper which was the prerequisite for the cake. After the laughter died down, she challenged us to examine our unfulfilled desires to see if there were some "vegetables" we needed to eat first.
These ideas applied to me in two ways then. First, I looked at the renewed desire to finish the seminary degree put on hold when we left for the mission field. Did I want to learn Bible and theology, or did I mainly want letters after my name and a new line on the resume? The peeling away of a layer of that desire prompted me to work out a study schedule for the fall as a way to focus on learning, the more important desire that was in reach already. The intentional, disciplined pursuit of growing in understanding also served as eating my vegetables, in a way. Beth's story showed me that even if every obstacle to further schooling were removed in an instant, I was too out of practice at intensive study and had forgotten too much Greek to take advantage of the opportunity.
Second, I looked at the desire to share writing with others again and realized there is a difference between the desire to testify in words of God's work in my life and the desire to be a Published Author. One was well within reach, and the other not so much. That's when the blog idea started to develop, but it took some more no's to more desires to shift the idea into action.
As I was thinking this weekend about missing the conference, I prayed for the women who did go, that they would hear what they needed as surely as I did last year. I also rehearsed the lessons of that conference last year and listened to see if they still spoke to me today. They did. The Lord is still sifting and purifying my desires, saying no to the superficial ones to grant the better, deeper ones. I'm still seeking daily grace to eat my vegetables faithfully, too, because somewhere farther down the trail, there will be cake.
As on any trail, there are mile markers and geographic landmarks along the way. In this journey, for me, those are taking the form of special events on the calendar or activities resumed. Going to church for the first time in six weeks: mile marker. Going to church and being able to stand for the hymns even though I couldn't sing: mile marker. Leaving the house for a date night meal: mile marker. Video night at my parents' house: mile marker. Doing laundry by myself: mile marker. Changing the bed linens almost independently: mile marker. Driving the mile to the library book drop and back: mile marker.
Other landmarks have been more disappointing. Family events, holidays, church opportunities rise into view ahead on the trail, and I think, "Maybe by [my nephew's birthday, my sister's move, Labor Day, the women's conference, our vacation] I'll be strong enough to participate and enjoy it." Then the path winds around again, and the landmark turns out not to be straight ahead after all. We were able to eat at a restaurant instead of at home for our anniversary, for which I give thanks, but otherwise these hopes may as well have been heat mirages on a Texas highway in August.
One of those landmarks, a Beth Moore simulcast at my parents' church down the street, came and went this past weekend. I marked it on the calendar in May or June, but it was not a good idea to spend my limited energy on attending even part of the day's teachings. Another marker lies ahead next week, the time off from work Al scheduled back in May. We have stopped thinking, "Maybe by vacation I'll be strong enough to go for long walks, attend a concert, travel, visit the botanic garden, . . ." but we still plan to enjoy the time with each other and away from schedules, alarms, and as many chores as we can manage to avoid. All three Lord of the Rings movies are ready for the player, too.
Looking back to the missed women's event and ahead to a vacation different than we'd expected, I am remembering last year's Living Proof Live event, "The Heart of Your Desires." In a number of ways, I was in transition, and I arrived at the conference anticipating that something in the message would meet me at the point of my need. I knew God had brought me to that place and had a purpose in that time.
Through the course of the messages, Beth talked about how, when God says no to the desires of our heart, He may be taking us deeper, to the heart of our desires. Sometimes the desire we're most aware of is only the surface desire and actually masks something deeper that can only be revealed and satisfied by stripping away the superficial longing. She also regaled the listeners with a story of her grandson becoming so obsessed with the chocolate sheet cake to end the meal that he refused to eat a single bite of the supper which was the prerequisite for the cake. After the laughter died down, she challenged us to examine our unfulfilled desires to see if there were some "vegetables" we needed to eat first.
These ideas applied to me in two ways then. First, I looked at the renewed desire to finish the seminary degree put on hold when we left for the mission field. Did I want to learn Bible and theology, or did I mainly want letters after my name and a new line on the resume? The peeling away of a layer of that desire prompted me to work out a study schedule for the fall as a way to focus on learning, the more important desire that was in reach already. The intentional, disciplined pursuit of growing in understanding also served as eating my vegetables, in a way. Beth's story showed me that even if every obstacle to further schooling were removed in an instant, I was too out of practice at intensive study and had forgotten too much Greek to take advantage of the opportunity.
Second, I looked at the desire to share writing with others again and realized there is a difference between the desire to testify in words of God's work in my life and the desire to be a Published Author. One was well within reach, and the other not so much. That's when the blog idea started to develop, but it took some more no's to more desires to shift the idea into action.
As I was thinking this weekend about missing the conference, I prayed for the women who did go, that they would hear what they needed as surely as I did last year. I also rehearsed the lessons of that conference last year and listened to see if they still spoke to me today. They did. The Lord is still sifting and purifying my desires, saying no to the superficial ones to grant the better, deeper ones. I'm still seeking daily grace to eat my vegetables faithfully, too, because somewhere farther down the trail, there will be cake.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Glimpses of Gratitude 5: Bookish Edition
Alternate title: Where I Spent Summer Vacation
Summer is not the friend of lupus. The intensity of the UV light can trigger symptoms and flares. Consequently, we are learning to shift travel to fall, winter, and spring for best results. (Our lack of children's school schedule to navigate helps immensely in this.)
That said, this summer has not been void of exploration. Big Al and I began June with a museum day in Fort Worth and a visit to my grandmother. July started with nearly a week in New Braunfels with his family.
Then the doctor grounded me.
For the rest of the summer, I had to content myself with questing in Arthur's England; a glimpse into the life of a writer with lupus through her letters from her mother's farm in central Georgia; English village politics and pots of tea; and visiting mid-century Midland, Texas, and traveling to halls of state around the world with a former first lady.
And all that with a passport which expired in July! But, um, that should probably be our little secret.
From the gratitude journal list, #936-948:
936. No new dental issues from last week's check-up
937. No vision complications from lupus medications (the other annual check-up this week)
938. Opportunity to trust the Lord with my vision anyway, as tests showed a tiny cyst that could cause problems if it grows (more diagnostics next month)
939. Ability to read
940. A terrific library system
941. Freedom to explore other times and places through books
942. Parents who taught me to read and read to me often
943. Grandparents' examples of voracious reading
944. Decades of friendships sourced in books and discussions about them
945. Help with my own "stuff" as I look through the windows of story into others' journeys
946. Encouragement from unexpected sources
947. An embarrassment of riches in free access to multiple Bible translations in my heart language, on paper, online, and in my ears.
948. Those hard at work translating the Scriptures to get Bibles to the Bibleless
Summer is not the friend of lupus. The intensity of the UV light can trigger symptoms and flares. Consequently, we are learning to shift travel to fall, winter, and spring for best results. (Our lack of children's school schedule to navigate helps immensely in this.)
That said, this summer has not been void of exploration. Big Al and I began June with a museum day in Fort Worth and a visit to my grandmother. July started with nearly a week in New Braunfels with his family.
Then the doctor grounded me.
For the rest of the summer, I had to content myself with questing in Arthur's England; a glimpse into the life of a writer with lupus through her letters from her mother's farm in central Georgia; English village politics and pots of tea; and visiting mid-century Midland, Texas, and traveling to halls of state around the world with a former first lady.
And all that with a passport which expired in July! But, um, that should probably be our little secret.
From the gratitude journal list, #936-948:
936. No new dental issues from last week's check-up
937. No vision complications from lupus medications (the other annual check-up this week)
938. Opportunity to trust the Lord with my vision anyway, as tests showed a tiny cyst that could cause problems if it grows (more diagnostics next month)
939. Ability to read
940. A terrific library system
941. Freedom to explore other times and places through books
942. Parents who taught me to read and read to me often
943. Grandparents' examples of voracious reading
944. Decades of friendships sourced in books and discussions about them
945. Help with my own "stuff" as I look through the windows of story into others' journeys
946. Encouragement from unexpected sources
947. An embarrassment of riches in free access to multiple Bible translations in my heart language, on paper, online, and in my ears.
948. Those hard at work translating the Scriptures to get Bibles to the Bibleless
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