New journey

And so it is... This journey comes to an end and a new one starts with a new blog, new outlook, and new adventures. I am calling it: Take part.


Thanks for reading and see you there!

eed

Dreams

A friend of mine recently challenged me to dream, to dream big. Those words took me by surprise, not because it was anything new, but because it made me realize that I forgotten HOW to dream. It then occurred to me that over the years, my dreams have turned into expectations, expectations that I am determined to keep as low as possible.

I have often looked up to Joseph in the Old Testament, not because of who he ended being, but of who he dreamed he could be. Every time I read about his story, I keep hearing the words "I know this is possible, but ...how..". I wonder if he ever stopped along the way of his "misfortunes" and remembered the dream that started it all. Frankly, in his shoes, I probably would have felt a deep sense of resentment not only towards my siblings, but also towards myself for speaking up about the dream. But then again, there lies the difference between Joseph and I. He dared speak his dream, he dared walk his dream, he dared believing that things were going to work out, even in the deepest parts of his heart while locked away in a prison cell....

The problem is still that I forgot how to dream, and I am not sure how to get it back. Looking back at the most recent decisions in my life (while most of them are good ones) they have been dictated by the same  factors over and over:

- Money

- Potential others see in me

- Fear of the future

- The need to be rational

- and more importantly fear of failure.

I suppose a lot a people struggle with similar issues, but does it mean that I should simply give up and get used to the idea that dreams are not meant to come true? Rhetorical question! Of course, I can blame a number of things, but in the end, I still have to do something about it. I still have to open my eyes, and stop standing on the sidelines. I still have to dare to dream, to date to act, to dare to fail.

EED

Happy pace

According to my "Freeway to 10K" running podcast, a happy pace is defined as a running pace that allow runners to run fast enough feel the vigorous effort, but slow enough to have a conversation with someone.. The body then gets stronger daily, weekly, until you realize you are now running faster and easier than before. It certainly has been true for me in the past few weeks, and then I dawned on me that it was also true in my life.

Let me expand... happy pace in my life has taken different forms... 

Spiritually, over the past few years, finding a happy pace has meant that I had to stop running so far ahead of myself and learn to be quiet and listen. As many of my friends, I have always struggled with the story of Martha and Mary. As much as I respect Mary and her desire to sit down and spend time with Jesus, the world needs Marthas. It simply does. I feel like the story should end with Jesus saying something like: 

-"(...) still, the place looks great Martha, and the food is simply amazing!".  

I know, I know, the story is really about a balancing act between being and doing, but in my life, doing just tends to take over until I decide to completely switch it over to being. At which point nothing else matters. Now that I think about it, it doesn't sound like I have found my happy pace in this aspect of my life yet. I do, do and do and get so tired that I forget to just be. Self examination, you will be the death of me!!! 

Moving on...

My happy pace in relationships means not being as closed off as I used to be. I am trying to not hide behind my friendly nature while quietly keeping people at a distance. It has not been easy, mind you, but the process and the lessons I am learning are worth the experience. Happy pace means I am learning to care of the people in my life, it's spending more time with my family. It means learning to invite people into my life instead of hiding behind walls or waiting for "something to happen". It is learning that love is not about fear, but about hope. 

The whole point of having a happy pace is to keep runners motivated. Too many times, I start something at full speed, ready, motivated and pumped to get going, only to lose all that positive energy in a matter of days. My happy pace gives me room to grow, it gives me room to learn, it gives me room to fall back for a short while, if needed, only to get back up and keep going. In the big scheme of things, I am still a baby runner, making baby steps, learning to pace myself...

I am still looking for my happy pace, and I hope you are too.

EED

2011

2011 was quite the strange year for me. I was rather nervous about what the year would bring... and specifically the way it would usher my 30th birthday. That's right, I turned THIRTY last year! Oh heavens, it was hard. Fears, insecurities, questions, anxiety about the past, the present and the future, all made an appearance at one point or another. The rather organized and polished 5 year plan I had created for myself had completely and utterly failed. Single, no kids, no fancy cars, no.... the list went on and on. 

As in any good story though, something changed along the way... I suspect it started with a trip back home in Senegal, where I grew up. It was my first time "home" in about 8 years. Speaking of, what's home really? As a third culture kid, it's really hard for me to answer, but more on that topic another time.

Here is my favorite picture of my 2 week trip: I call it "The point of no return". 

That's the actual name of this door. The picture was taken on Goree island, which was the point of departure for many African slaves captured in the western part of the continent. For most slaves, the door represented the last point hope before leaving the lives they knew behind. There are no step beyond the door, just the ocean, where I always imagined the ships docked and picked up their human "cargo". I have always cried at the point of this tour of the old slave house, but that day I felt numb. I am still not sure what happened that day, but it felt like the beginning of a long and surprisingly rewarding journey. 

I knew I needed to make some dreaded lifestyle changes, and so I did... very...very slowly and...very reluctantly. The past 2-3 years had been filled with just unwise decisions and choices. The bottom line: I just stopped taking of myself. I made small changes: in a work environment, where relaxed clothing was the norm, I stopped wearing T-shirts on weekdays and starting "dressing up" on Sundays. I took swimming lessons. I ran a few 5k races. Small changes, but they made a difference in the way I felt. I traveled more: Chicago, Detroit, DC (one of my favorite cities)... Arizona. (I have ALWAYS wanted to see the Arizona desert, and it was more beautiful than I ever imagined). 

And then, it happened... I turned 30..THIRTY. The point of no return! I celebrated with my family, my birthday with my mother for the first time in years. I celebrated with friends, who love and care for me. I celebrated with strangers, who kept calling me a "youngin". It felt amazing. It felt peaceful. It felt right. Sure some things haven't changed, but what changed mattered in more ways than I could have expected. I can openly admit that I am a sucker for cheesy things, but I never really believed the saying about the journey and destination... good thing there is hope for everyone...

eed

Pain*

*(Sorry for the somewhat mopey tone of this post... but "topic oblige")

A few months ago, my dentist was going through my X- rays and was offering me different options to treat my cavity (on tooth 31). The 2 options were extraction, or root canal. He took another look at my X-ray and said: 

- It looks like you have had a root canal in the past?

- I have????

- Well, yes. Look right here...

- Uh... Um... I guess...

In an attempt to not sound totally clueless, I pretended to remember getting a root canal as a child. The truth is, I did not. I simply forgot about it... The only thing I could remember is intense, and unforgettable pain, which fostered a growing level of fear and anxiety whenever I had to see a dentist.

This incident is a good reflection of how I deal with painful situations... I bury them deep, very deep, only to be let out in the occasional nightmare, or bout of anxiety. Not too healthy, I suppose...

The past few years, have been harder than I care to remember; because I had no place to hide. Returning to Christ meant that along with the good plans He had for me, He had to start a painful work in me to become more like Him. During those years, I had to dig out some painful childhood and young adult experiences that I have affected me more than I care to elaborate (maybe one day....). These events had taken root in my heart, and were planting seeds of doubt and insecurities in many areas of my life. I ran so fast and for so long that I forgot what it felt like to rest. Until, He made me. He made me lie down and one night, He brought it all back. One long September night a  few years ago, I remembered what pain felt like. It hurts. It hurts in a place where you cannot reach and soothe. It hurts in parts of my life I didn't even know mattered. It hurts.

Part of my spiritual growth meant learning to give it ALL back to Him. Not just a little, or the things I could not handle (while keeping a tight reign on what I felt I could control), not some days... nope... ALL of it, ALL the time. I cannot begin to describe how freeing that was. Note, I didn't use the word "easy" but "freeing". I felt free: free to let go, free to breathe, free to move on, free to dream, free to trust, and maybe one day, free to completely forgive. 

I do have a long journey ahead of me, but I am not alone on this journey anymore. I have Him, and His love never fails (1 Cor 13:8).

PS: I picked the extraction, and while the pain of the extraction was short lived, the healing was of course the hardest part. There is another lesson in that.

Silence

For the past few months, I have felt that God has been silent in my life. I kept getting this feeling that He was far off, in the distant place but still left a forwarding address in case of emergencies... It felt really disturbing and confusing to me... When I first noticed it, it felt really strange and unnerving, like waking up from a deep sleep and noticing scratches on your forearms (which happens a lot lately, now that my nails are growing...) When I really paid attention and started asking questions, I realized just how wrong I was. 

Turns out, He never stopped talking... I just stopped listening. I played my music too loud again, and missed the the words around me.  I was so oblivious that, when He spoke louder, all I could hear was a faint noise disguised in (seemingly) blurry and fuzzy prophetic words. *Sigh*. 

I am so thankful for His patience....

EED

I will follow

Lately, I have been wondering what is keeping me so busy, so occupied, so distracted. I have been wondering if my actions reflected my desire to follow Him and Him alone. Working in ministry has a funny way of making me doubt myself that I am doing what He has called me to do. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, I love serving Him and others, but there is still this part of me that says... "what if..."

This song is my wish tonight, as I pray: "Where you go, I'll go, where you stay, I'll stay. I will follow you."



EED