Hurry Up and Wait

Okay, so life has thrown me a few changes lately.  And I don't really like changes.

My baby is growing up.  He doesn't need me as much anymore - or maybe he still needs me, just in different ways.

My brother and his family moved to Ontario. I've been so blessed in my life to count my brother and my sister in law as two of my best friends.  And so them leaving leaves me feeling empty.  I know deep down that this is a good move for them but I feel like a piece of me moved along with them. They took my niece with them too, despite my offers to keep her and allow them to visit her whenever they wanted.

So I've spent the past couple of months trying to reinvent myself.

I'm not trying to *find* myself.  I already know who I am.  I think I've been trying to *change* myself.  Push myself way outside of the boundaries of who I am and push myself to be more extroverted.  Push myself to enjoy things that I don't really enjoy.  I mean, I thought that I should meet new people and get out there and do new things, like maybe joining Toastmasters or an acting club or a choir.  I joined *another* dating site.  I seriously considered moving.  I considered moving in with a friend and having home stay students.  I looked into adopting a dog.

(Well, the last one is totally me. I would love, love, love a dog.)

But then I realized that all that is not me.  At least not me right now.  Because why do I need public speaking skills?  Because I can't act.  Because I haven't sung in almost 20 years.  Because dating sites are so not my style.  Because there is nothing wrong with where I live *for now*.  Because I love my friend, but I don't have what it takes for home stay students.  Because with Q I'm not home enough for a dog.  It wouldn't be fair for the dog.

And I would NOT be happy doing all that NOT me stuff.

Where does that leave me?  Where does that leave me right now?

Waiting.

It leaves me waiting.

Waiting...

But here's the thing.  Waiting is not bad.  I know what has been placed on my heart.  I know that the waiting now is preparing me for the future when my time comes and then I will be ready.  The waiting now is for rest and reflection so I will be confident when when it is time to *be*.

Presidents are not allowed to be under 35 - but seriously look at the average age of the candidates running now.  Nelson Mandela spent 20 years in jail, resting, before he was voted in as the first leader of a democratic South Africa.  And because I love women and love to support their successes...Amelia Earhart was 40 when she took her fateful flight and made history.  Mother Theresa was 69 when she won the Nobel Peace Prize.  Sarah was 90 when she had Issac.

For now, I will take the time to rest.  I will read books.  I will write.  I will read some more.  I will go for walks.  I will laugh with friends.  I will get healthy.  I will watch Pee Wee hockey games and cheer for #12.  I will help with homework.  I will try to remember to go to PAC meetings (I forget every single 3rd Tuesday every single month).

Because I know that when my times comes, I will be busy.  I will be moving mountains and I will be taking names.  (okay, I may not be that influential...but who knows maybe I will).

I don't know yet what it is I will do...maybe I'll run for office (is that a thing in Canada??  It sounds way cooler than 'I will run for MP') and revolutionize politics by being the first honest leader who really wants to make things better for all classes, whether you're homeless or a billionaire.  Maybe I'll run a Fortune 500 company (again...is that a thing in Canada???  I should really read up on Canadian catchphrases if I'm going to be running the country.)  Maybe I'll be a famous author after writing an amazing novel that changes every one's life for the better.

Truly, truly what I hope for and pray for every single day is that God will use me to change lives of young people.  I pray that he will send me a partner who wants the same.  Every day I hope for a husband who's heart also waits for me and wants to foster/adopt as many children as we can.  I hope that we can show these children that they matter and they are important and they are capable of great things and they deserve to be loved greatly.  I hope that we can plant seeds in these young minds and hearts for whatever time we have them, so that one day when they are grown and alone and faced with two choices, they will choose the good because they remember they are worth the good.

I feel this calling every day.

Every day when I hear of mass shootings, I feel this calling.

Every day when I read of the teenager who overdosed on drugs, I feel this calling.

Every time I see someone begging on the street for spare change, I feel this calling.

So for now, I wait.

I rest.

And I prepare my heart for what's next.

I Judge People

Welcome to my bi-monthly special where I dissect my character flaws for all to see.

I think it’s important to say that I don’t have a really low self esteem, and I’m not doing this to beat myself down. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I thought I was pretty near perfect for a really long time. I was really nice to people (who were really nice to me), I only gossiped to a few trusted sources who would NEVER repeat a word of it to anyone, and I was so fricken funny, I made myself laugh all the time.

But when you’re near perfect, there’s nothing to work on. There’s no way to grow. So, I started really breaking it down. And I found that I’m judgmental. Not just a little judgmental, I’m like super judgmental.

It might surprise you (as it did me) that I don’t judge the prostitute on the street corner, or the drug addict/alcoholic begging for money. I’ve seen how tough life can be. I get how it can break you and beat you down. I’m actually surprised more of us aren’t out there trying to forget all the horrible things that have happened. If a bottle of vodka takes away the memories of being beaten to near death as a child or drowns the sadness from never being loved, then that seems like a pretty simple way to forget. And way cheaper than therapy. My heart actually aches for their broken souls. I’m sure I would be shocked by what many of them have seen and experienced.

No. I don’t judge them.

I judge rich people.

I judge smug Christians.

I judge rich, smug Christian people.

People who should know better.

People who’ve been given a second chance (and a third and a fourth, because let’s face it – God’s grace is never ending) and refuse to give others even a second glance, let alone a second chance.

I judge the people who say “Look at me, look at me! I’m such a wonderful Christian. It’s all about MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! I’m so ¬¬¬¬_________ (insert conceit…talented, pretty, rich, smart, nice)” People who forget they’re part of something bigger than them, forgetting that it’s not actually about them at all. If you have to tell people you’re talented, you’re probably not that talented (hate to break it to you).

I judge the rich Christian people who hoard their money for a rainy day, while other people all over the world are dying from simple ailments because they cannot afford medicine or clean water. I judge them for driving their rich cars, wearing their rich flashy watches while children are orphans and growing up without parents, without love, without chances to become better people. I judge them for living in huge mansions while others live in leaky huts, or door ways, or sidewalks.

The thing is – judging them doesn’t make me a better person. Judging me doesn’t make me better than them. It makes me the same as them. It makes me angry inside.

And judging others really isn’t about them. It’s about me. By choosing to judge them, I choose to see the worst in the world, instead of looking at all the miracles and blessings that surround me.

Everyone has their brokenness, for some it’s their conceit. Because believing you’re something better than you are might be the only way you can get through the day. Because loving money might be the only thing you’ve ever loved that hasn’t disappointed you. Or hurt you.

So this month, I guess I’ll work on being less judgmental.

And then next month, I’ll be perfect for sure.

For sure.

Perfect…

Homesick....for Work...

It's no secret that I resist with my whole being dislike change just a tad.  So, this past month has been a little hard on me.  Q in school full time, new shift at work, new routines, new schedules.  *Sigh*

Here I am at work, sitting at my new desk, typing away on my new computer, supervising my new employees, learning all their new quirks.  My new boss doesn't quite know how to take me, so I think he just totally avoids me instead.  He's a no-nonsense type of guy who substitutes glares for pleasantries.  It makes following the kill-'em-with-kindness policy that I love to live by even more the sweeter.  Because he doesn't know what to do with it.  He asked how I was adjusting to the new shift and I went on this five minute tangent over how I've re-arranged my sleep pattern, while also managing to see my child and do my laundry.  As he walked away in complete disbelief, I called after him, "Thank you so much for asking!!"  He grunted in reply.  He also has difficulty with my finishing his sentences for him...especially when he's trying to impart his wisdom and *coach* me.  Coaching is the term we use here like, all. the. time.  Coaching up, coaching laterally, coaching your employees.  If you're not coaching, you're not doing your job.  Here, at Canada Post, we're just one big team.  I haven't figured out what kind of team we're like though...maybe a bowling team.  Or shuffleboard, perhaps.  But definitely not football.  Or hockey.  Unless you count the penalties.  Then we're kind of like hockey.  We would have a whole lot of penalties.

The only thing that I can compare what I feel right now is homesick.  I'm homesick for my old job, for my employees and their idiosyncrasies.  I miss them.  I feel homesick for them.  I wonder what they're doing (right now, they're probably sleeping...lucky SOB's), wonder if they're missing me.  I wonder if they're getting the support they need to do their jobs well.  I wonder if they're being treated well and with respect.  It's funny that something/someone can become so much a part of your life that you miss them so entirely when they're not there.  They threw me a going-away party, complete with snacks and goodies and speeches.  One employee brought me apple tarts from a bakery that his grandfather used to take him to when he was a little boy.  How special is that?  Another bought me this awesome "bento" box for me to bring my lunch, seeing as how nothing is open here in the middle of the night.  Thoughtful gifts. 

They all told me that I was the best supervisor they've ever had.  One guy has been here for 35 years.  That's pretty amazing.  What a compliment, huh?  Another said I was the nicest, and definitely the prettiest.  What a sweet talker, that's all I gotta say 'bout that one!  It makes me sad that I was the best supervisor they've ever had, because all I did was treat them with respect.  A smile here, a please there, a thanks, ask instead of tell.  It so simple, really.  It makes me sad that I was the first one who tried that 'technique' with them.  We forget how easy it is to impact a life and make someone's day.

I've learned that it doesn't matter where you are, you can still change the world.  You don't have to be a missionary in a third world country, you don't need to be a politician to effect change.  All you need is a heart for people and you can move mountains.  Ghandi said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world."  How could something so simple be so powerful?  Not sure, but it is.  I spent two years in my previous position wondering what the hell I was doing there, what was the purpose.  I thought I was wasting time and doing nothing.  I felt small and ineffective.  Turns out, a whole lotta people believed otherwise, and that means the world to me.

It makes me think that maybe you can change little bits of the world every single day.  A smile to a stranger here, maybe a thanks to someone who holds the door open for you.  Something that is completely inconsequential to you can be the difference to how someone's day goes.  The day of my last shift, I was getting a coffee when I saw a blind man with a cane trying to find an exit.  He kept hitting walls and going in circles.  I was about to help him, when out from nowhere came one of my employees, (this guy...like 6ft3 and a good 350lbs...scary, if you didn't know him) puts his arm in the arm of the blind man and leads him to where he needed to go.  A random act of kindness.  That's what I love about my guys.  They look tough on the outside, but on the inside, hearts of gold.

My new section, my new employees...they're pretty great.  They're hard workers, they're nice, they get the job done.  One night last week, one of the women came up to me, and in this quiet voice asked, "So....do you like us?"

I just smiled and nodded.  I was just wondering the same.