Alarm blaring, she reaches over and turns it off, quickly jumping to her feet.
Too quickly.
The world spins, and she grabs her bed for support. Closing her eyes, she shakes her head slowly. Not again. With a deep breath, she re-opens her eyes and stumbles cautiously forward, steadies herself, then continues. She prepares for the day with a gentler touch than yesterday.
Still, it’s worse than she thought: her head keeps swirling despite using every trick she’s come to learn over the years, and the dizziness is compounding the otherwise annoying issue. Mid-shower, she sits on the floor to calm the tides stirring in her head. A moment turns into a minute, one minute turns to several. Finally, as the water pumping out of the shower head starts to cool, she warily stands, rinsing off as swiftly as possible without worsening her condition. Turning off the water, she dries off, tugs on her robe, and makes her way back to her room.
The sun has started to rise, and the east-facing window greets her harshly, forcing her to stagger backwards. Blocking the rays of light with her hand, she ambles to the window and yanks the blackout curtain to properly cover the sunlight. She turns back to the dark room, eager to get on with day preparations only to find herself falling back into bed with the world twisting and spinning around her. Closing her eyes leaves the faded navy blue imprints to dance on her eyelids.
Just another hour, she tells herself. Maybe this episode will go away by then.
Sighing, she realizes she has to cancel a meeting; she can’t drive like this even if she were stubborn enough to try. She shoots off a text, brain too wonky to even time it to send later at a more appropriate time, and rolls over, tugging the blankets over her.
But sleep fails to come. First, she’s too cold, so she piles on the warmest of blankets from the end of her bed. Just as she starts to feel comfortable, she’s suddenly too hot. Tearing off all of the blankets does nothing to help, and the room feels stuffy and stale. Clambering out of bed, she opens both windows, eyes closed as she stands in them to catch a few snowflakes on her nose. Needing the fresh air but suddenly feeling weak, she crawls back into bed.
She tries to get some rest, but it refuses to visit her. So she pauses, turning her thoughts away from everything, even sleep, and rolling over as though to finalize that decision. She stares at the wall, then closes her eyes only to find the wall still before her, and asks God to talk through this silence. Her body continues to complain – it’s too hot, or it’s too cold, or it’s both too hot and too cold, or the sheet is crumpled, or the room is too dry, or the windows shouldn’t be open, or there isn’t enough fresh air. Still, she waits, not even knowing what she wants from her comforter.
Her phone buzzes; she resists the urge to reach for it. Several minutes pass, then it rings; she reaches over and silences it, then rubbing her face and wondering why that person would call her, especially at such an early hour. Another minute passes promptly followed by another phone call. Again, she reaches over and silences it, noticing it’s a different person that she’d been meaning to speak with. Not now, she closes her eyes, I’m not even sure I physically can speak right now. Besides, why all of this attention so early?
She glances at the clock. It slowly whirs into focus for a split second: 0938. She groans: her restful hour somehow turned into restless three. Worse yet, when she sits up, the world continues to spin, and now it also pulses, forcing her back to her pillow. Gratefulness overtakes her as she closes her eyes: at least today is a holiday; not all of the errands will get done, but at least she doesn’t have to explain this to her boss.
The thankfulness soothes her, quieting her nerves and allowing her to fall to slumber.
The Declaration of Independence, the United States Constitution, the constitutions of the several states and the organic laws of the territories, all alike propose to protect the people in the exercise of their God-given rights. Not one of them pretends to bestow rights.
Today’s Gospel reading (Mark 7:31-37) is about Jesus restoring a deaf and quasi-dumb man’s hearing and speech. (“Quasi” because the man was described as having a speech impediment, meaning he could speak, but not properly.) The passage is typical of the miracles of Jesus: someone with an ailment is brought to Jesus and is healed. This particular story has a slight twist to it that I never paid attention to previously, but the priest highlighted it in his homily.
Jesus took the soon-to-be-healed man aside from the crowd and plugged his ears with his fingers. One might think, “Random,” but it wasn’t at all. Jesus took him away from the crowd for the same reason He plugged the man’s ears: this deaf man was about to regain his hearing and it was kindest to be shield him from the cacophony the rest of the world is used to. Imagine typically listening to your television at a volume of one, but when you turn it on, you find it at a volume of forty-three. Your ears would hurt. Jesus protected the man while he acclimated to his new ability to hear.
That’s the Jesus of the Bible: helping people in ways the rest of us forget may need attention. Jesus consistently offers support not only in the way we’re asking, but also in the ways we need to get there. He helps with what I call logistical support, making sure the details of each need are covered.
Case and point: Jesus feeding the five thousand people who followed Him and the disciples out to a lonely place. His disciples told Him to send them away to find dinner for themselves, but Jesus took the provisions they had and distributed it among the people to satisfy their need for food. He could have sent them all away to get their own dinners, but He instead fed them because He cares for all of our needs. Not just the ones we ask about, but all of them, including the ones we don’t yet see.
How much do you trust in the Lord making sure you have what you need? I have my good days and my bad days. On my good days, even the most disastrous of circumstances leaves me saying He’s strengthening me for another trial. On my bad days, if the coffee shop doesn’t have the flavor of doughnut I want, the world is going to end and nobody loves me anyway so it doesn’t matter. Most days, I’m somewhere between the two; I fight to move that needle in toward trust, but I do still have to wage that war.
Do you have a favorite passage about God providing for His faithful? How do you best remind yourself that He loves you and will make sure your needs are taken care of? When do you find it easiest to trust God and His providence, and when is it more difficult? Where is the next step toward trusting God more fully in the way we are called to love, honor, and trust him?
Have you ever lamented your powerlessness to help another?
I have had several conversations recently with various people the gist of each being an earnest sadness for an inability to do something for someone else. Great or small, for stuff or action, offering money or attention, this all boils down to the same thing: sometimes we feel horrible that there isn’t more that we can offer our neighbors in need.
The most heart-wrenching conversation I had on this topic started out fairly innocuously as discussing time management. We were talking about various groups vying for our time, and she mentioned one of her several volunteer organizations moving a normal meeting time due to an event. She couldn’t make the new meeting time because of other commitments, but the group had already finalized it and expected everyone to be in attendance. The result was this intense feeling that she had to either be in two places at once or let people down. She didn’t know what to do, and she wept bitterly as she spoke about it.
Another discussion concerned helping a family who has gone through more than their fair share of trials and tribulations. Several people have been pitching in. One woman in particular has actively been helping them with a variety of tasks from driving to chores to things I know that I don’t even know about. She has repeatedly stepped in to help at every available opportunity. Then, when a certain opportunity presented itself for us to help this family, she sent an email saying that she feels “horrible” about her inability to help due to a precluding physical condition. Having her try to help with this particular thing would be comparable to asking a blind man to drive someone to the hospital, yet she felt horrible.
This – the feeling terrible for a limitation preventing giving more to others – happens frequently. I have had several conversations with variations on this same topic. I am not exaggerating when I say that every single time these particular people have been asked to give of themselves that they go above and beyond the call of duty to help people to the best of their abilities.
Even for those of us not up to this level of saintliness, we still give, and there are limits to what we can and can’t do. We can only give what we have to give, and it’s good to be good stewards of ourselves, mind, body, and soul. Taking care of ourselves isn’t greedy; taking care of ourselves allows us to better take care of others. At the same time, we are supposed to freely share our gifts with others. So how do we set proper boundaries?
I struggle with this myself sometimes, and I don’t always know where the line is drawn. However, I have worked out a few helpful guidelines to help give me an idea of when I should step up to the plate and when I should give someone else that opportunity to shine.
Do I Have That to Give?
This is a critical question. If a friend asks me for a million dollars, regardless of reason, I have to say no because I don’t have a million dollars. That’s a pretty simple and straightforward example, but the same reasoning applies to other giving as well. The response of, “I don’t have that to offer,” still applies if someone needs a house, a car, a Thursday-night driving service, or a homemade cake: I can’t offer any of them because I don’t have them.
Now, the counter is that I could obtain something to give away. That might be an option. You might say, “But you can bake a homemade cake.” Well, no, at the present, I don’t have that ability: no ingredients, no cake pan, and I doubt the ability of the oven here to properly bake any goods. As sad as it is, I consider this option foreclosed.
I may ask the friend who made this beautiful cake to make one for another cause, though. (I won’t try to voluntell the task, though.)
Time is subject to a more direct scrutiny. If you have a commitment and a request is made for a conflicting time slot, you don’t have that time to give. It’s like a budget: that time is already allocated elsewhere, and it cannot be recommitted.
Is it Mine to Give?
This is related to the above discussion, but it deserves its own section.
First, the obvious: you can’t give away something that doesn’t belong to you. It may belong to your best friend, your sibling, your parent, or your child, but if it doesn’t belong to you, it isn’t yours to give. Feel free to ask the owner to commit it to the cause, but it is not within your power to give it away.
There’s a verb for committing another’s resources: voluntell. (I didn’t make the term up, despite what spellcheck might tell you.) When I was in grade school, my mother would voluntell me for various activities without consulting me. I consistently protested on principle; additionally, I might have a scheduling conflict. Finally, when in town between college semesters, this became clear: I was voluntold to help with some activity that was taking place after my return to school out of state. Prepared for my protest, she explained how important it is to volunteer; instead of showing off my plumage, I nodded humbly and replied, “Okay, you pay for my plane tickets for me to be here that weekend and I’ll give them my Saturday afternoon.” Oh.
This applies to any resource. Money, for example, may not be yours to give even if it’s in your care. I had a discussion with someone who was explaining frustration at being able to give money to a certain cause. The cash she wanted to give was physically in her possession; however, it was committed elsewhere. She didn’t know what to do because she couldn’t say she didn’t have the money because she did. “Except you don’t,” I pointed out, because that money is already spent: that you physically have it doesn’t change that it has already been spent.
Analogies help me to wrap my head around certain concepts, so I’m including some. If a five-year-old child in your charge gave you their hard-earned $2 of allowance to buy a candy bar on their birthday while standing in line at the counter, it isn’t your $2 to spend on ice cream or give to the person behind you in line. Similarly, purchasing groceries on a credit card and then giving away the payment money earmarked for it is giving away money that is owed to the company fronting your grocery expense. Closer to the above incident, it’s promising to give someone money for food and then giving it to another cause because you ran into a spokesperson for that cause as you were leaving the bank.
In any of the above situations, that money already has a specific destination, is already spoken for, and is no longer available to be given away. In other words, it isn’t yours to offer.
How Much of a Strain Will This Cause?
So, you have a resource that is yours to offer. If you give it, how will it impact you and your loved ones?
This is a squishy question. The earlier questions have clear yes/no answers, but this one requires more detail. This question requires more of an analysis of the cost – both to you and those who rely on you. Just because you can volunteer for that event doesn’t mean you should: it might overly drain your resources, preventing you from being your best self in other capacities.
For example, a friend asks you to handle the ticket sales on Saturday evening for a gala supporting a group you have been helping for years. The people are great, the cause is something you’re passionate about, and you want to be involved. The hitch? You have a massive deadline at work on Friday at 11:59 pm, you have spent the last three weeks pulling sixteen-hour days trying to meet it, you really need to check on your bills and budget before next week, and your mother has been asking you to dinner for a month. In this scenario, even though that time is available and yours to give, you might need that day to recover.
You know your comfort levels, and your ability to recover, better than anyone else.
There are a number of variables to take into account. What roles do you play? Who are you to the people you care most about? Are you breadwinner, parent, spouse, and caretaker of a parent? What do you need to both retain your sanity and be the person your loved ones need you to be? Whom do you need you to be? Whom do others need you to be?
Again, this is the squishy question. It bears asking, and it bears pointing out that it won’t be a simple, clean answer like the other ones. The answer to this question may be that helping in that way will have ripple effects causing you to be agitated for the rest of the week and therefore is not something you can offer. Nobody else has to understand your reasons. Your decisions are on you because only you know all of the parameters you are working with.
I had a confrontation of this sort a few years ago. Some changes were made with an organization I had been volunteering with for several years, and there was a time shift for one of the weekly commitments. It seemed minor to most, but this change resulted in serious negative changes that lasted throughout my week: instead of my normal peppy self, I became frustrated and even angry at little things. I stuck it out for a year, expecting it to change again. It didn’t. I voiced my concerns to the person in charge who promptly waved it off and told me to get over it. But I couldn’t, and I couldn’t adequately convey the problem for him to understand. After several pleas were disregarded, I respectfully reported that I would no longer be participating. That was dreadful; however, I regained my proper headspace. Also, because of how I handled it, I retained a great working relationship with the other members of the group and have been welcomed to participate in other ways.
Give Without Depleting
We are called to assist others, but we need to do so in a way that does not leave us unable to care for ourselves or our loved ones. How do you help the people around you? What tips do you have for setting boundaries to enable yourself to help others?
Time to celebrate an accomplishment … with another post!
In many respects, this feels like a belated birthday card. I knew the 100th post was coming, but I didn’t check until just now. The 100th post launched on Friday, and the entry with the title of 100th post is Minuscule Reminders. A solid postfor the honor as it focuses on good humor and gratefulness from objectively negative experiences.
While there is still plenty of room for growth, 100 posts is a great start to this magnificent journey. Which goals and sub-goals on your dream list have you reached so far this year? How do you celebrate your milestones? Which next steps are you most looking forward to?
I look forward to sharing another 100 posts and learning more about this platform to better serve my readers and potential readers. I also look forward to more incredulous Paint drawings of subjects so ridiculously portrayed they might pass for abstract art. I am also hopeful regarding the late launch of a series I delayed as well as a few others that are brewing. Keep in touch! I expect new posts to continue to go up daily (excepting Sundays), and I hope to prepare posts in advance of launch dates so there’s a buffer in case of circumstances preventing my daily logging on. At this point, that may be a dream, but we shall see about making it reality.
Happy 104th post! How should we celebrate together?
Today is the day for voting in the primary elections! Have you made your voice count yet?
I live in New Hampshire. Many people still call New Hampshire the “First in the Nation,” but Iowa currently has that title. (Well, there are many ways I could sideline the Iowa caucuses, but I’ll concede that their constituents voted first.) Still, my pretty-purple state has a decent lead on Super Tuesday, and I’m interested to see how much the nation reflects on what happens here today and into the wee hours of the morning as the votes are finally tallied.
There are many candidates running this year: thirty-three on the democratic ticket ballot and seventeen on the republican ticket ballot. Yes, you read that right: there are sixteen people contesting the incumbent from within in the party. Oh, and the other party decided to one-up the previous election’s high number of primary candidates for any party by doubling it. That’s a lot of contestants for a game show with a winner of one.
Are we feeling a little ridiculous yet?
New Hampshire rules permit a person only to vote in the primary of the party which they are affiliated with. Normally, that means that anyone affiliated with the Grand Old Party walking into the polls today would have been told thanks, but no thanks. Most states are holding primaries for both parties. This is why I highlight the urge to vote: everyone should get out and vote this primary season, regardless of party affiliation.
That includes people like me – the undeclared voter, otherwise known as the independent or unaffiliated voter. In New Hampshire, if you are not officially with a party, you get to walk in, declare a party, vote in that party’s primary, and (if you wish) re-un-declare as you walk out. It’s rather awesome: I got to pick the contest my vote might matter for. If you knew my history (consistently cheering on the underdog because decent humans tend to be in that category), that would be borderline laughable. Though I did canvass for a candidate who miraculously won once… Anyway, I figured the majority of the action would be with the blue ballots, so that was my party of choice for twenty minutes.
So many options! (Also notice the centennial celebration – top left.)
I did my research, so no, I didn’t just walk in, see the blue pile was smaller, and pick that one. Gimme a li’l credit, mmm’kay? Research is an important component because you should know what you’re getting yourself (and your countrymen) into. It’s a lot better to vote for someone because they have sound policy ideas and leadership skills than because they have a cute name and the cutest Wikipedia picture. Yes, that was a value judgement, and I hope others share it.
During my research, I identified where the candidates fell on issues that are important to me. Do you have non-negotiable issues? What top traits are you looking for in a candidate? What do you want your candidate to fight for if they make it into office? What do you believe in?
There are a number of quizzes you can take online for free to get you thinking about specific issues, how much those issues mean to you, and who you agree with most. Caution on how you use them: I have yet to find any that allow me to sort by my non-negotiables, so candidates I agree with on many things but not on the important thing rank highly. They are worth checking out, but they are better for seeking matching the balance of your values as opposed to a particular issue.
Armed with the facts, I voted. I invite you to do the same: do some soul searching, check out the issues, and assess where the candidates fall on the issues, then make your voice heard at the ballot box. Who are you supporting this election year? Why? Where do you want the country to go from here? Where are we aiming to land? What are we doing well, and what should we prioritize changing? What do you want tomorrow to look like?
Quite possibly my favorite thing about tomorrow is that there will be no more canvassers knocking at my door trying to convince me to vote for some candidate or other. Props to the volunteers for their efforts; I applaud people for standing up for what they believe in. Regardless, I’m looking forward to not debating political ideology on the front porch without a coat in the middle of winter.
Days like this – when there is frost on both sides of my windshield – are the days the canvassers decided it was most important to engage me in lengthy discussions.
Some mornings are immediately great beginnings: beautiful starts to magnificent days. Many of these are decidedly great mornings by deciding to that effect: I will make today wonderful, and therefore this morning must follow suit. Then there are mornings when you can’t figure out why you’re in such a bad place mentally, growling at the water for coming out of the spout too slowly or furrowing eyebrows when it comes to putting on boots to protect your feet instead of the simple shoes that take half a second to slide into.
For me, this morning was the latter.
Today was destined to be a fabulous day: I was looking forward to meeting a new friend and making some phone calls in addition to getting more quantifiable work done. One of my favorite homilists was celebrating the Mass this morning, and I had some other tasks to complete that I was excited to do and get done. Everything was aligned; I even got a decent amount of sleep last night.
So why, then, did I wake up this morning feeling like I’d been drugged and beaten with a cudgel? Why was it so difficult to get out of bed, to get dressed, to even walk to my vehicle? Cleaning off the stubborn sheet of ice was the easiest part of my preparation for the day. (For that, I’m grateful; by the time I left the cathedral, I had to do it again.) None of it made sense, and I couldn’t quite find a grip to yank myself out of the pit with.
Then, during Mass, I somewhat lost control of my voice in the middle of the alleluia: it warbled. While it certainly wasn’t intentional, it was a beautiful little addition to the tune. I was at once confused and tickled and determined to not lose control of my vocal chords. (Such is unacceptable for singers such as myself, you know – not having control over our own musicality is strange at best and un-artistic at worst. … I write with a smirk and good humor.)
Despite myself, I couldn’t help but grin. It was precisely the opening I needed to reclaim the day, and I jumped on the opportunity.
The timing was also interesting because it relates to the post I added yesterday: a small thing recognized for some worth resulting in a great return on the investment of recognizing it. Small details can empower us if we let them. Are we grateful for everything the various facets of life offer? How can we open ourselves up to gratitude and empowerment through noticing another aspect of our lives?
