Big Changes

Change happens. A lot. And sometimes all at once.

Never having been one to shy away from change, it doesn't really scare me. Unless of course that change is my favorite book gone missing, my favorite dish no longer on the menu at my favorite restaurant, or my eyebrows going missing in the night. Then I may panic.

But for the most part change is fun. Exciting.
The world throbs with new possibility and opportunity and a sense of expectant vibrancy.
The clouds are bluer, the flowers more pink, the people I encounter more chipper.

Today my life is changing. Forever.
It will never be the same again.

And I could not be more happy!
I am so blessed, abundantly dripping in good things, in love, and in possibility!

What, you may ask, brings on this euphoric sense of joy?

Well, I say, I have been given the chance of a life time to change the world!

I am going to be working with the young and sometimes restless residents of Green Bay. I accepted a posting today as the Associate Pastor to the Green Bay Church!

Yea for change!

Tirade

From my favorite online etymology site - www.etymonline.com

tirade

1801, "a 'volley of words,' " from Fr. tirade "speech, volley, shot, continuation, drawing out" (16c.), from tirer "draw out, endure, suffer," or the Fr. word is perhaps from cognate It. tirata "a volley," from pp. of tirare "to draw." The whole Romanic word group is of uncertain origin; some think it is a shortening of the source of O.Fr. martirer "endure martyrdom" (see martyr).

I have a job. I get up in the morning, usually throw on some gym clothes, hit the gym fora bit, head home to change and then drive furiously for the entire 3 miles it takes me to arrive at work.

I do not have a hard job. I do not have a glamorous job. I do not have a well-paid, sit-at-a-desk, thoughtless or predictable job.

I work at a nursery, with wee baby plants, massive flowers, monster sized trees and wonderful glorious hours spent outside sweating in the dirt. Life hardly gets better, right?

Sadly, no.

I work with a woman who knows exactly how to press every button I have. When I greet her, there is hardly a reply. When I let her know that we actually have a product she told someone we don't have so he should just go check at WalMart (seriously??!!), I get scolded. When she sees anyone standing around talking she runs and tattles to the boss. When I let someone know about a plant, she will come behind me and contradict what I said and has even made customers put plants back. Argh!

Every interaction with her is strained and tense. I find myself dreading work because I know this button pushing, tattling, rude person is going to be hovering on the horizon of my day. I feel a bit like I am being pulled through a whole bag full of suffering. I feel like a tirade is here.

And I am at the point where I don't know how to be nice to someone. How do I react in a nice way to someone who makes me want to scream and run away whilst frantically banging pots on my head to drown out her voice?

As a Christian, I know there is a standard of love I choose to live by, that should and I believe can, influence even the toughest of interactions.

So how do I love someone who is, for me, the epitome of unlovable?
How do I choose to respect her, to be kind and gracious and appropriate?
How do I turn the other cheek when I fear the state it will be left in?

So far as I can see, there is only one place for me to go, to look to,
to fall on
and that is the
Throne of Grace.

I know that there are people who cannot stand me. I am their button pusher, their dreaded work companion and for them to react to me in love? It would take a miracle!

And so I am trying, learning, leaning and reaching out for Grace- a much needed miracle cure for button pushers and pot bangers alike.