Pieces of Quiet

I’m a little sleepy, but sandpaper eyes are a cheap price to pay for the profound peace I find in the wee hours. Despite tripping over my lab Ambrose’s prone body in the dark, I reached my computer relatively unscathed, and am happily settled in. My stomach’s growling now, though. It’s always something.

Maybe it was because I wrote about Baptists yesterday, but I woke to this little verse traipsing through my mind:

Jesus, Jesus - how I trust himHow I’ve proved him o’er and o’er

Jesus Jesus - precious Jesus

Oh for faith to trust him more

I haven’t heard this hymn in over twenty years, but honestly, I’m not too surprised by its reappearance. Song driblets regularly pop out of the distant recesses when I need them, though it’s kind of scary to think I may need this particular one anytime soon. Ohh, I’m really not as ignorant as I sound (don’t look so shocked); I have a good idea why I’m going to need to trust God. If they offer it, Scott’s decided to take the job he interviewed for yesterday.

The pay is significantly lower. However, he could make up the deficit in overtime, which is readily available. It takes seven minutes to get to the warehouse, not the hour he drives now. He’d be employed with over two hundred people, which does raise the potential asshole quotient, but then again, think of all the people who aren’t. He could be friends with them. Medical and dental and eye benefits. Many opportunities for promotion and higher pay. The near 100% certainty he’d never get rained off the job site. Fellow Oregonians (the company moved here a couple years back from Klamath Falls, OR, if you can believe that.)

The most important aspect of the job is this, though: the potential to trust God even more. To dig a little deeper to our life’s core; to put our money where our mouths are yet again. I think my purpose here in this phase of life is to become as fully Me as I can. Whole, filled-up, filled-in, rounded edges, sharp mind, loving. Loving. Loving. Every rule we impose on each other dissipates with tiny little shrieks under Jesus’s advice to love God with all our hearts, and our neighbors as ourselves. I’m trying. And to succeed, I need to look at life with different eyes, or maybe the same eyes focused on different places… I can’t watch people buy new houses, cars, boats, clothes, and tickets to Sting concerts. I have to settle down and get very, very still. I have to let the stuff we all want to hold in our hands swirl around me until it finally flies away frustrated because it can’t get in. I want peace, not something that breaks down or wears out.

So, when Scott told me about the job, even the part about lower pay, I felt a little well of excitement begin to rise in me. I could see in his face he felt the same thing. We were both thinking: Another opportunity for God to show us that he knows we’re alive, and loves us. It doesn’t make any sense, but it doesn’t have to. I don’t care if I can’t figure everything out anymore. The question I ask now is: Am I feelin‘ it? I don’t mean with my emotions. My emotions swing like monkeys from wall to wall every half hour. I mean, do I feel settled inside? Am I seized up with terror, or does peace pervade? FYI: Terror is a pretty good indication you may not be making a good move. Peace is good. Peace is our friend.

Obviously, all this may be moot if they don’t offer Scott the job. They’re scheduled to meet with two other applicants. But, they seemed to like him. They spent hours with him, introducing him to people, showing him around. The personnel director (is that the right term? It’s been so long since I had a real job I don’t remember anymore) spent half of last week trying to get through to him on the phone (dratted dial-up!). He could have given up the first day but didn’t, a fact we notice and deeply appreciate, and consider a point in Scott’s favor. But if the job doesn’t come through, we’re okay. We’ve been reminded again that we’re not hanging out here in this frickety world alone.

@Today’s our lunch date with Van! One of our family traditions is that around Christmas we head for lunch at Fuddrucker’s and whatever holiday blockbuster is playing that year, but since Van will be spending this Christmas in Iraq, we’ve decided to celebrate early. He’ll choose the movie, so I’m not sure what we’ll see (dear God not Mr & Mrs Smith!), and at lunch, we’ll give him the laptop to take with him overseas. Ah, the laptop. I’ll be honest. I’ve wanted a laptop for years, and when my parents told me they were giving me their old one, I was beside myself. I thought of all the writing I would do, now that I wouldn’t ever have to get out of bed again. So get this: the very next day (haha God) Van came home to pack up his stuff, and as he was folding a shirt he suddenly said, “Man, I wish I had a laptop to take with me.” My heart did a little jump, and I knew that laptop wouldn’t be in my hot little hands for long. There was no way I could enjoy it when I knew my son needed it. Sigh. I’m okay. Besides - duh - now he can write to me whenever he wants, instead of having to endure long lines at the computer terminals. I’m happy. I still want a laptop, but I’m happy, and I can wait.

Oh - I redeemed myself yesterday; Scott had a great birthday after all. I made fresh chicken enchiladas that were out of this world, and brownies with caramel icecream (remember, we’re mostly off sugar, so this was a real treat). I got him three action movies and he watched ’til his blood sizzled and his eyes popped. He was in heaven. His mom told him over the phone, “The check’s in the mail.” He’s intrigued by Rod’s mysterious soon-to-arrive gift (I haven’t spilled the beans yet). He has stuff to live for. Life is good. And now I’m off to live it! Love to you all. xo