nothing new under the sun

since jon asked me to make that list of 20 things i wanted to do before i die, my mind's been aflutter with list-making (a practice i fear to indulge. list-making threatens the early onset of number-obsession, a trait i think my mother is intent on passing down to one of her unwilling daughters). and yet, unless i make my lists, i fear my mind will shut down entirely, reluctant to yield any of its thoughts through any other means (really, imagine your mind being attacked by Sesame Street-esque puppet-people costumed in large foam numbers dancing and spinning around your head. voila. you understand me). still, i refuse to give in to this number obsession and yet, i will make my lists.

a) on my 19th birthday, erin and shelly surprised me with an "i am my beloved's, my beloved is mine" ring that i'd picked out earlier that summer (at the time, my relationship with god was very song of songs-based. it still is, in fact, but understand that i had been of the i kissed dating goodbye camp that year and whatever i could do to impress upon my heart that jesus was more than enough for me and i didn't NEED a boyfriend, well, i did it). long story short, i've worn this ring every day since july 30, 1999. now i fear we are at the end of our time together. at some point in the past couple days, i've managed to completely disfigure the ring to the point where it is an almost perfectly skinny oval and can no longer slide off my finger. i've yanked at it so much that my knuckle is swelling. today, my coworkers have assessed that it will take more than butter; i'll need to call maintenance. sad, but true.

b) as i began my regular blog-visiting routine today, i stumbled upon cory's new blog and immediately tumbled into a bit of nostalgia, remembering my days as a newbie blogger. one particular comment really resonated with me: "most of my words will emerge from daily crises of faith in life." yes. remember when you first started writing your thoughts? it's like you had a thousand things to say! and not enough time in the day to say them! so, cory, thank you. this is impetus enough for me to blog my thoughts from last night.

c) about a year ago, my friend allan told me that - spiritually speaking - i was in my terrible teens. i had the kind of attitude with god that mimicked my own behavior with my parents as a 13-year-old. you know, the kind of attitude that came home from school and didn't want to be harassed with questions i felt (unreasonably so) were intended to trap me and teach me, and ugh, eye-rolling and bothered, marched up the stairs, shut my door, tossed a cranberries cd in my stereo and bemoaned the hardships of being 13 (in all fairness - to any 13-year-olds reading this - 13 IS hard. i'm not belittling your pain. puberty and zits and growing and braces and relying on the lyrics of only a few solid bands to aptly give voice to the things you only wish you had the nerve - or vocabulary - to express is ridiculously difficult). this is what i did with god.

*side note: i shared this revelation of being in my spiritual teens with a friend who, i assumed, after hearing me denote a spiritual age, lost all interest in the point behind the story, and responded to my expression of heartfelt sharing with, "how old do you think i am spiritually? i mean, i kind of feel like i'm in my 30s ..." i stared blankly at her. what???? talk about completely missing each other ...

anyway, so last night i was writing my rwandan pen pal and trying to devise creative ways of talking about god in my letter without coming across as cheesy (see, i told you i'm like a teenager. here's this 12-year-old girl who writes about god unashamedly, sharing her favorite psalms with me, telling me how he patient he is with her, and i feel like the biggest nerd if i say thing one about him. i AM lame). so i confessed to her that i've been learning about how god matures believers. and how i want to choose my way over his way ALL the time. and how trying to understand this "my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways" business isaiah writes about is awfully difficult for me.

why am i so freaking stubborn?

later last night i felt isaiah 55 pressed on my heart strongly enough to visit a commentary on it. this guy writes, "we can never walk on God's way until we forsake our own way." i am annoyed that he has to use the word forsake. why not collaborate on our ways? use the best of both of our ideas?

sometimes i imagine i am playing house and trying to dress god up. like i'm trying to fit this massive spirit of GOD into cute little corduroy overalls and feed him a bottle of milk. the problem is that i can't even grasp him. he's like too much spirit for me to actually handle. and i feel like shaking my finger at god and asking him to please get dressed and then come into my beautiful plastic playskool house and enjoy it with me.

at these moments, i feel like he does two things: 1) (ahhh! shriek! numbers!) he grabs my hand and very tenderly look into my eyes while 2) using his other hand to fully destroy my little plastic house into absolute nothingness (all the while making sure to save the scraps for recycling purposes - my God is very eco-centered).and then he starts laying bricks for the foundation of the house he decides he wants to live in with me. and i feel like, ahhh! rage! this is going to take forever!!!

precisely. "and it will take even longer if you don't help." my God is very into working together.

he squeezes my hand to stop me from rolling my eyes. and my fingers react from the pressure of the misshapen ring digging into my skin. he lets go of my hand to begin working, and i stare down at my pathetically uncalloused hands to rub my weak fingers. and there it is staring up at me, this old ring, quietly revealing that i am indeed my beloved's.

my God. the things you do for love.