Inspiration Fabrication

Someone asked me the other day why I haven’t written in a while. I had to think about my answer for a moment. A few popped into my head, “I’ve been busy, tired, etc.” The truth is that I just haven’t felt like it. I usually only write when I have been inspired, and I have not been inspired in a long time. Most days, I have a hard enough time being motivating myself to even get out of bed, forget about the effort it takes to write.

My flatmate and I have recently been on an inspirational movie kick at home. It’s been a lot of fun to work our way through Braveheart, Miracle, et al., but there has been a serious disconnect somewhere along the line with me. Even after spending hours watching other people fighting for something in which they believe, I feel nothing. Should I feel even the slightest stirring, I am immediately reminded that I have to get up early in the morning; therefore, I delay any action.

Admittedly, I have done a few unusual (for me) things in the past couple days: donated to a political campaign, and got a new haircut… but that’s about it. Those things aren’t exactly life-changing. Or are they? In the absence of a lofty quest, perhaps the everyday becomes more significant. It has struck me that most popular heroes are in the Greatness-Thrust-Upon-Them category. You know, the average Joe who suddenly finds himself called upon to save the world.

Who knows, adventure may yet beckon—and in that moment I must be ready! More often than not, success lies in preparation. While I have not been inspired in a long time, I may be very soon. By that token, I write today. Cicero said that “even if you have nothing to write, write and say so” and I do so. There entire epistle has been a fabrication of necessity in the absence of inspiration and for that, I apologize. Until a genuine muse appears, feel free to check out my film site for a cheap imitation.

Yahweh Yireh

Hallelujah! September is over! I don’t know how this past month was for you, but it was pretty brutal over here. It was so bad that I had to make up a new word because all others failed in description: lifesore. Lifesore is what happens when the hits just keep on coming, day after day. You know, when you get so sore that you can’t even get out of bed in the morning because it hurts just to move.

I had planned to use this title for a blog post last weekend, to celebrate financial provision. The bills from my knee surgery in August finally filtered through the insurance and simultaneously down to me. They were quite a bit bigger than I had anticipated and I don’t have several hundred dollars just lying around. You can imagine the anxiety which set in as I did the math, even though I already knew I would be short.

However, I had forgotten that because of the calendar’s set up there were actually three paychecks this September! My budget is structured around two paychecks, so the unexpected third was exactly what I needed. I was able to use the extra payday to cover the medical bills, knowing that there would still be another one before I had to pay my rent.

The plan was to write about all that last weekend while I was in New York for a funeral. That did not happen because my car broke down while I was halfway there. And by broke down, I mean my transmission blew just as I hit the PA/NY/NJ border on I-84. It didn’t just blow, it was “blown to hell,” according to the mechanic.

Now that I am at last getting a chance to write this, it looks quite different than I had originally intended. I have so much more for which to be grateful, blessings such as: being able to (barely) coast off the highway and avoid an actual accident; having already been wearing a very cute new hat so that the rain wasn’t quite so dampening; my grandparents helping me pay for a “new” transmission.

All that to say how very excited I am that September is over. I am even more excited that my Lord sees and provides for my needs before I ever could. Seriously, how long ago did the whole calendar thing get set up? No way could I have taken care of that one! For a month that started with half the county getting flooded out, it sure put a strain on divine providence.

September reminded me again and again that life hurts. Sometimes it’s physical pain, like strength training on my refurbished knee, which hurts like a bad word. Other times it’s emotional stress, like wanting to panic when your car dies. Most often it involves a spiritual ache for a better world, a kingdom which is not of this world. The one place I can find enough strength is in the knowledge that our God has already provided for not only our temporal needs, but even for our eternal.

Like A Rock

Driving home from Upstate New York on Sunday in the middle of Hurricane Irene, I felt like I should have been in one of those car commercials. You know, the ones where they show you how awesome the vehicle is by driving it through rivers, over boulders, hauling the Titanic, and then launching it into space to fix the International Space Station. Then at the end someone sings “like a rock, ohhhh like a rock!” and that’s supposed to make you buy their product.

Blatant materialism aside, my little Spencer performed like a champ and nobody is allowed to criticize him ever again. I spent most of the trip gripping the steering wheel and contemplating rocks in all forms, including rock ballads and rock slides. I found myself meditating on the parable of the wise man who built on rock and whose house withstood a hurricane; the foolish man had built on sand and his house was washed away.

My flatmate and I were recently discussing fear. Fear of getting robbed, mugged, carjacked, etc. This is something we all consider occasionally, whenever we see it another violent crime against an innocent victim reported on the front page. It’s not a question of whether we will have storms in life, only of when. The real question is how then do we live.

One particularly common sentiment seems to be that all you have to do is get married. Everyone seems to expect that a spouse will fix everything that is wrong in their life—everything from their car to their parents’ marriage. My heart breaks for this mindset. A wedding is not the happy ending, complete with riding off into the sunset and happily ever after. It is only a (hopefully) happy beginning. I worry that my friends will discover this the hard way.

No mere human can control every aspect of life. There has yet to be a single person in my life who has not let me down at one point or another. Relationships fail. Jobs are lost. Looks fade. People die. When life shakes you to the core, you’d better hope your foundation is sturdy enough to handle it. Trouble happens, but you can’t let the fear of it rule your life.

There are always several responsive options: you can fight, you can run away, you can ignore it and hope it goes away…. That decision defines you. It will impact the rest of your life in ways you can’t even fathom. Yes, you should be able to rely on your husband, wife, father, mother, etc. But “should” and “could” are two very different things. When you suddenly can’t depend on anyone or anything else, the Rock on which you should have built your life is going to matter even more.

The conclusion of the aforementioned conversation on fear was that we could never leave the house, but that would be no way to live. Sure, we could hide under the covers, yet we choose to go out and confront life head-on! Every day, we each must boldly go where no one has gone before! Even if that means sometimes having to drive through a hurricane.

Older Women Teach

Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior… to teach what is good, and so train the young women… that the word of God may not be reviled.

Titus 2:3-5, ESV

Recently I have been noticing how much my relationships with older women have been developing. Now, by “older women” I simply mean women who have been handling life a little bit longer than I have—not that anyone is actually old. As I continue through life, some things are getting easier, but a lot of things are getting harder. Having more experienced people’s help along the way makes a HUGE difference.

These godly women have been helping to fill the void left by my mother. I wouldn’t say that anyone is formally mentoring me, but they are all teaching me something: one woman loves to remind me that she didn’t even meet her husband till she was 30. Another one has the best dessert recipes ever! Another has never been able to have children. Another one is a little bit older and still single, but she’s probably the coolest person I’ve ever met.

Something I’ve been learning about life is that no two experiences are the same. There may be some general similarities, but the happy family with 2.5 kids is more the exception than the rule. Nobody’s life is perfect, certainly not all the time. What matters is your ability to gracefully deal with all the conflict and confusion, especially in the everyday.

The best part is that most of the time, these women inspire me without even realizing it. I may see them at church, or at work, or on facebook, or at Walmart… the where does not matter because of who they are. They are living as virtuous examples. It’s a little scary to think that there's always someone younger who might be watching me, looking for her own role model. I guess the good news is that we “older women” are all in the whole “teaching” thing together.

Christmas Time Is Here

Christmas is coming! Based on my calculations it should be here… tomorrow! Yes, I know the calendar says it should take another 124 days, but based on how quickly the summer went by, I figure it will only feel like one day, maybe two. Personally, I had planned to do a lot over the summer but ran out of time. After all, you can’t do much overnight.

That’s sure what it feels like to me. It feels like commencement was just yesterday, yet we already have convocation today. Somehow, I managed to be in a wedding, find a new apartment, undergo knee surgery, go to New York three times, and fall in love with my Kindle—all between yesterday and today. However, that isn’t nearly as much as I had wanted to do!

So little time, so much to do. I had wanted to get to the beach. I had wanted to have a Lord of the Rings marathon. I had wanted to rearrange my office. I had wanted to update my blog more often. Somehow, all that time just got away from me. Crazy work hours dominated the few days of nice weather with which Scranton is graced every year. Life has always been a battle between what I need to do and what I want to do.

The beautiful thing about Christmas is its scheduled sanctity. We get federal holidays and office parties and bonus checks: we get a BREAK. I don’t know about you, but I know that I’m already looking forward to the vacation. All those tranquil days of quiet snow that can be spent cuddled under a blanket on the couch… I’m feeling peaceful just thinking about it! Good thing it will be here tomorrow.

Toy Story

A very scary thing happened to me yesterday: I legitimately used the phrase “when I was your age.” This terrifies me because I don’t think I’m that old! However, when confounded by the modern toy industry, it was entirely appropriate. All my friends are having babies now and a generation gap has officially formed twixt my own childhood and “kids these days.”

The problem was that I was searching for a classic toy. I checked the toy departments in Walmart and Target first, because I was there anyway. Then I went to Toys R Us, which was a huge mistake. The only sales associate I could find was a teenager who looked like she hated her job almost as much as she hated her life. How could you hate working at a toy store? Only way to beat that would be to work in Santa’s workshop itself!

She just gave me a blank stare when I said that I couldn’t find a paratrooper toy. “What’s a paratrooper?” I very politely described the parachuting soldier doll, trying my best not to call her an idiot. She had another blank stare, then mumbled something about them not having it and walked off. I resumed the search on my own and eventually concluded that she her lazy guess had been correct.

When we were growing up, my brothers and I had basic toys, mostly because we never had any money. I loved my Etch-A-Sketch and Polly Pockets. What I did not love was stepping on random Lego blocks all over the house. We actually played with our toys, often even outside. The only “luxury” toy I ever had was my American Girl doll, which was a Christmas gift from my grandparents. I definitely still have her.

Most of our toys were pretty low-tech. I did have a Galaxy class U.S.S. Enterprise model with detachable dish and warp engines, which even made warp and torpedo sounds. There was always great debate between me and Andrew about who had the Enterprise and who had the Klingon Bird of Prey—but we always agreed that James got the lame shuttlecraft.

It was such a big deal when the boys got their first Nintendo 64. Up until then, my Furby had been the most high-tech toy. We never did get Gameboys. As I looked around at all the new toys yesterday, I was amazed. Almost none of them lacked electronics of some sort. G.I. Joe and Barbie are now fully articulated, yet even they were largely outnumbered by action figures for the latest movies.

The lack of educational toys was heartbreaking. When I was a kid, we still had to use our heads to play. We actually learned how to build rockets! Nowadays, toys don’t leave much room for imagination. You don’t have to imagine your toys coming to life when they can already walk and talk and fight crime on their own. Give me a Thomas the Tank Engine set any day. You can keep your Orbeez Soothing Spa set.

Little House in a Good Hood

Sometimes God’s perfect timing comes when you least expect it. My friend Laura and I recently experienced one such surprise blessing: a new apartment! Everything has worked out so perfectly that there is no way we could have planned it so well ourselves. Weeks later, I still can’t believe it all actually happened.

What happened was that I realized I hadn’t seen my fellow librarian Laura in ages and felt like a bad friend, so we had dinner on a Saturday night. Around the same time, I realized that my current lease was about to be up. Over the course of dinner, we got to talking and figured out that it might be a good idea for the two of us to look for a new place together.

When I got home Saturday night, I hopped on Google to have a look around. At the top of the list was an ad for an apartment that was showing the next day. It really looked too good to be true, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to go check it out. I emailed Laura and she thought the same thing. So Sunday afternoon, we went to have a look.

It actually was as awesome as it looked online—way bigger than the shoebox I’d been living in, with hardwood floors and a new kitchen, conveniently located near our jobs. The space was actually on two floors (living room and kitchen downstairs, two bedrooms and bath upstairs), making it feel more like a little house than an apartment. The price was exactly where Laura and I had agreed we felt comfortable.

We fell in love with the apartment, but figured we’d never get it. After all, we’re practically still just kids, and several other people were also interested. The landlords said they would make a decision and let us know by the end of the week. Monday morning they called to say it was ours if we wanted it. Of course we wanted it!

Less than 48 hours after deciding to look around, we had it. There were still lots of details to work out. I had to move out of my apartment; Laura had to move out of her parents’ house. It got pretty crazy for a while there. There were a few little snags, like getting the electricity turned on, but everything eventually fell into place. A big thanks again to all my friends who helped us!

I am now living in a genuine neighborhood for the first time in… a long time. We already knew the family nextdoor, who turned out to be some of my coworkers. I just love hearing the kids playing in their yards and sometimes even mine. There was even a big bonfire the day after we moved in, so I got to meet everyone almost immediately.

It never ceases to amaze me how the timing in life correlates with personal development. Did it happen because I was ready? Or was I ready because it was happening? I’ll never know. All I can do is wonder what’s coming next. For now, I’m more than content to dream about the future from my awesome new home. Be jealous.