Ears

Eucharisteo #6: Ears.

Ears to hear -
the rhythmic "swish-swish" of ski tails on hard packed snow.
the droning hum of studded snow tires on dry pavement.
the notes of laughter in a shared moment.
the soul piercing lyrics and emotional melodies of my favorite music.
the stillness of a night devoid of the howling, screaming wind.
the sharp cracking of trees beginning to thaw and move again.
the rustling of Beech leaves skimming across frozen glades.

Ears to feel -
the cold bite of a fresh new day.
the caress of a warm spring wind.
the drips of snow melting off a frozen roof.

Ears to hold -
the earrings my friends and family members gave me.
the glasses that allow me to be something other than blind.
the hair from falling in my eyes.

Continuing Lessons

Eucharisteo #2: I have eyes that can drink up creamsicle sunsets

Eucharisteo #3: I have skis and adequate winter gear to enjoy the many many months of snow and cold

Eucharisteo #4: Someone invented Gouda cheese AND thought to put it into quiche

Eucharisteo #5: I'm no longer lactose intolerant

"Survivor"

I'm a sucker for solid writing about relevant topics.  You know, the things that let your brain roll them over for hours, even days, or the articles and blogs that make you think, "YES!  They are so blessed to be able to put that into words!"  As I was bouncing through articles in the late night (now early morning), I stumbled onto a link shared by the Maine Cancer Foundation.

MCF is an organization I've only become involved with in the past year, but I've been greatly impressed by them.  Their network is incredible and they're not afraid to tackle big issues, but know that even small things make a difference in the lives of Maine cancer patients and their families.

The New York Times article they shared, entitled Lost in Transition After Cancer, made me both glad and sad at the same time.  This was ironic or appropriate or both given the tone of the article and subject.  This woman does an INCREDIBLE job of putting into words what so many of us struggle with, at varying degrees, on a daily basis.  Her writing is gut wrenching, powerful, and raw.  She doesn't shy away from the bare bones, ugly truth: being a survivor is not something that you just do and then are; it's an hourly and daily learning curve - even when you're nearly 15 years cancer free.  In a way, it's freeing to know "I'm not the only one," but it's also terrifying at times to know that and to also know there is a huge gap in care and resources for so many people.

For 15 years, the one thing that keeps me moving over hurdles, new challenges, old challenges, and roadblocks is knowing that I was created for a purpose and I "survived" for a purpose.  Therefore, I am not only still learning to "survive," most importantly I'm still learning to live.

Read.

Ruminate.

Digest.

Survive. Live.

Learning Thankfulness

Eucharisteo, that's Greek for what is essentially "he gave thanks," is something I've been learning.  In general, I consider myself a pretty positive person, it takes a lot to get me down and I can find something to smile about it most situations.  However, sometimes, there is a nagging under the surface that I'm not quite "nailing" this whole LIFE thing.  My church attendance has been hindered by sick kids and physical exhaustion in recent weeks.  I've made a point to take time to read, watch, and listen to teachers during this time and everything keeps coming back to prayer and how I pray.  Top that off with thankfulness as a part of prayer and you now should be starting to at least see if not feel the gavel hitting my head...over...and over...and over again.  DOH!!  I've been screwing this up!

I'm in the middle of reading One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are, which was loaned to me by a dear friend.  As soon as I started reading, I was struck by the authors intentionality.  Am I living my life with that type intention or am I letting things that frustrate and hurt me follow me around or just sit in the corner staring, poking, settling in?  After continuing my read and identifying areas that I not only need to improve, but must make more intentional, I want to start making a point to write out the things I'm thankful for.

Anyone who knows me at all knows that if something comes up in passing and I don't write it down I sometimes don't remember (okay often!).  However, if a slow down, tuck it away for rumination or if I do write it down, then it is stuck with me forever. An example: Elephants eat a lot, not because of their size, but because they have highly inefficient digestive systems that don't extract all of the nutrients from their food sources.  I don't remember where or when I learned this.  My sister frequently gives me the "you're a freak" look when I jump into the conversation with something that just pops back into my mind (in my defense it's usually a little more relevant to the conversation than elephant digestive systems).  However, I want to be able to remember why I know these things to be true.  I need to be able to back things up.  I need to know that I know why I know how I know for what I know, not just that I know.

The second part of this Eucharisteo is not just for me.  I work with a population and in an environment that is much more stressed and under more pressure than most.  They're some of the brightest people I'll ever meet, but I see then struggle daily with the demands they feel they must meet or they will lose their value.  I want to share my thankfulness in everyday life with them, that it may be a door opener for conversations and a bit of thought for them to take and chew on themselves.  I'll be posting my Eucharisteo moments here, but also on my apartment door for them to share.  Thankfulness is not something that can be contained or hoarded, that's why we gather to be thankful.  So many of the moments of eucharisteo in the Bible were moments of gathering to share food, thoughts, moments.  

Sharing is a vital part, but cannot be achieved when one is dry from spiritual exhaustion.  It takes a continual effort of making a point to seek Him out daily to keep myself focused, filled, and up for the task He's seen fit to give me.  It's the joy in knowing that right now, this "mission field" he's given me is just exactly where I'm supposed to be that lets me go to bed weary, but not wake up dreading the day coming.  For that, I am so very, very thankful.  By God's grace I am alive, I am his child, I have been chosen to reflect his love.  I fail at this, but his grace prevails, he still has and continues to shower me with grace to allow me to be thankful and find joy in life. 

Eucharisteo #1: a job that not only provides a paycheck, but that I can wake up excited for the day ahead.