My Middle Finger

My Middle Finger

No, no…I’m not giving it to anyone.

The middle finger on my right hand is part of what makes me unique.

When I was very young, my parents, together with an aunt and uncle, owned a general store. The kind of general store that you’d see on Little House on the Prairie perhaps. Our home was attached to the back of the store.

On the yard, we had a power generator. 

I’ve always been a curious person. I’ve always needed to try to figure things out.

It may not have been the smartest thing to do but remember that I was young. I was at an age where I had no ability yet for cause and effect thinking. I remember being taken to the doctor’s after but  I have no actual memory of what I did. 

It appears during the exploration of the generator  I stuck my fingers in the gears.

The tip of my middle finger partially detached and I lost the nail. The tip was reattached but that finger is about a quarter of an inch longer than that same finger on the other side.

When the nail grew back it was rough and it had split. Since then I have 2 nails growing on it. The top nail usually stays attached about half way down and then I have to cut it right back to the cuticle.

The way I learned to tell right and left was by my middle fingers. Rough nail, right side. Smooth nail, left side. To this day I subconsciously think of my middle finger when I’m thinking of directions.

Once for a wedding that I was in I had an acrylic nail put on it. It was a little disconcerting for me to not feel the ridges on that nail.

Why is that finger and nail on my mind? What’s the reason for me telling you about all this?  Well, for this first time in all the years since this event happened (and the years are many) the upper nail has not detached. It has almost reached the full length of the lower nail and although I can see a small air pocket underneath one area it is still fully attached.

Small detail to you perhaps….but there you have it. 

And now you know…one small part of my uniqueness.

And you?

Teapots and Broken Hearts

(not my photo)

She was in a meeting at a little white country church. It was the kind of meeting where people stood up to speak out a ‘word’ that they felt God was impressing on them for someone present. Usually someone in the group would accept it as being for them. They may share what they feel God is saying to them and why it relates to them. Or they may just receive it with thanks.

At one point someone said they got a picture of a broken heart. Considering the conversations that she’d been having with God as of late she knew it was a word for her but her pride wouldn’t allow her to speak up. She said nothing. And the group carried on. 

She needed to know though why God had shown this person her broken heart. So she emailed them. The return email said that not only had they been given a picture of a jagged broken heart, they’d received another picture along with it. 

This person had been shown a teapot.

 It had been broken a couple of times before and put back together. But this time the teapot shattered so badly that it couldn’t be put back together. 

(not my photo)

 This picture resonated with her immediately because that’s exactly how she felt. But she felt angry. ‘Why God?  Why did you show this person that for me? I already know that! I know that this time I’m so shattered that I feel like I can’t do much about it!! What kind of word is that for me? It tells me nothing! I still don’t know what to do!” 

It was true. Situations in her past had caused brokenness before. But she was outgoing, she was gregarious, she made friends easily, she was gifted in ways that allowed her to easily reestablish herself. She could shake it off pretty easily and start again elsewhere. She put herself and her life back together. 

But this time, this time she didn’t feel that she had anything left. She just couldn’t do it anymore. She was too shattered. Empty. There was nothing she could do... 

Now she couldn’t shake the visual of the teapot. As she battled with God about why He’d shown this person that picture for her with no answer as to what she should do, she began to realize that this was exactly the point. There was nothing SHE could do. 

She had to surrender. 

Finally she came to see that this was a good place to be, this place of complete surrender. She had to rely completely on God to do the work. It may be impossible for her but He could work miracles. Nothing was impossible for Him. 

(not my photo)

Over the next few weeks, months, 

as the various shattered areas of her life came to mind, 

she picked them up in her hands and 

she held them up to God. 

She gave the pieces to Him. 

She didn’t have a clue about how He was going to fix the teapot. 

Was He going to restore it to its original state? 

Would He aggrandize the broken and cracked areas? 

“When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something's suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful.”    Barbara Bloom

Or might He make a mosaic of the broken pieces perhaps in the form of a stepping stone? 

She had no idea. 

But she was beginning to feel her heart restored with each piece that she lifted  up to Him…one by one…trusting that He knew best what to do with them. She became willing to wait to see what He would do. 

She started to feel some excitement and curiosity. She began to sing again. She began to feel alive.  

Today she still doesn’t know exactly what He will do with those pieces but she knows that this is where they should have been all along. Had they been in His hands the first few times of being broken they wouldn’t have shattered so easily again this time. 

It has taken a long time for her to get to this place but she can finally relax. She doesn’t have to work so hard to put the pieces back together. She knows now in her heart of hearts what she’s always believed in her head. 

It’s in His hands.  He knows what He wants to make of her. He knows how she can best be used for His glory. 

Still in awe of how God used one visual of a teapot to bring all this about, she now can rest and wait as the pieces are restored 

Blogging Friendships

About ten years ago a friend of mine who met her husband via a Christian dating site kept encouraging me to join one as well. Eventually I joined a couple of Christian sites. Unlike her, I didn’t end up walking down the aisle. I did have some great experiences on one of the sites though. 

Before I tell you about those good times, let me tell you about a couple of the men I met.

One was a sociology professor with whom I had many things in common. Although he didn't say it outright, in his follow up email after our date it became apparent that this was all a sociological experiment for him. Ouch! 

Another had put on his profile that he was divorced but as we were walking along the river trail I realize from something he said that he was still married.  When I called him on it his explanation was that spiritually he ‘feels’ divorced. Uh huh! 

A third man I had a nice evening with when I went over to Vancouver Island for a weekend to visit a friend. After a dinner that he cooked in his home we went to a theatre production where he promptly fell asleep.. To his credit he was raising his sons on his own so his schedule was full. 

So the dating part of it didn’t work out for me the way it did for my friend. But one of the sites that I joined had a free blog. This blog and the people in it became my source of entertainment and support while I was living in Mexico from 2005 to 2007. 

We had hilarious fun at points. 

As anyone who has been on a dating site knows there are scammers and bogus profiles. There are also those that post pictures of themselves that are from younger years. 

One day we arbitrarily decided that everyone needed to prove they were real and current by posting a photo of themselves holding a banana and a toothbrush. I didn’t have a banana on hand. Being in Mexico at the time I did have a tortilla…and a toothbrush.  

We had virtual parties. One person would invite us to their blog for perhaps a BBQ and the thread that followed would be filled with what everyone was bringing, what we were going to do, and so on. Telling you about it doesn’t sound nearly as fun as it actually was but believe me, hilarity ensued.

 I really think we should all have collaborated on a work of fiction because we did so well in helping each other build on these stories. 

 Many of us also posted our testimonies, sharing what God has done in our lives. We were there for each other in prayer support. When others in my life were not so accessible my blog friends were there daily when I needed them. 

There was the usual conflict and some who wouldn’t play nice.  But by and large it was a group of fun supportive people.

I’ve met a number of my blogging friends in person. Some in Arizona, a few in Michigan, a woman in Toronto, another person in Winnipeg. Then last year in New Jersey when another blogging friend from Seattle and I went on a trip to NYC.  In each case my online perception from observing them in the blogging world was accurate. We truly felt like friends.

It’s been a long time since I was at this blog. Most of the people I knew there have moved on as well. But the connections made with many of them are lasting. Without that community I don't think I would have survived the loneliness of adjusting to a new country.  I will be forever grateful for those online friends.

It's Part of the Shaping and Re-Shaping.

Maybe I’ve read one too many fairy tales. Or perhaps I’ve seen too many chick flicks.

I’ve always pushed to get to the happy ending, to the sure thing. I dislike waiting for things in my life to resolve themselves. I feel uncomfortable sitting in the messiness of it. 

Sometimes I can make a decision too quickly because I hate sitting in the tension of the unknown.

During my late 20’s I first realized that I did this with men. 

At that time I was reading one of the Venus and Mars books. I presume it must have been John Gray’s book on dating since it was about ‘the stages of dating’.  The author says that because of our discomfort with this, we often jump past this uncertain stage, this getting-to-know-if-you’re-the-right-one-for-me stage. We quickly jump straight to the commitment stage, sometimes even into the living together stage. Then we come face to face with the uncertainty that we tried so hard to avoid but by this point it’s awkward to move backward. 

Yup, that rang true for me! 

Then a few years later, in a writing class, I noticed that I would write about something deep in a powerful way, starting strong, but then I’d rush to a neat and tidy ‘happily ever after’ ending. The instructor kindly challenged me on this. The reality is that many stories aren’t tied up with a neat little bow in the end. Even in my writing, I need to be able to stay in the uncertain stage for as long as it take. But I have to confess that while I’ve matured in this I’ve not overcome it.  I still hate sitting in the messy part. 

I thought about this today as I was realizing that I’ve been doing the exact same thing with an opportunity that’s come my way unexpectedly. As I was speaking with friends this past week I pretty much convinced myself to stay with the tried and true.  

There. 

Done. 

Next…

Thankfully as a Christian I have the prodding of the Holy Spirit and I have some good friends who are giving me feedback so I was not getting internal peace about this decision AT All. 

Once I saw this I took a step back. Now I’m again sitting with the tension. I’m choosing to wait out the process but this time I’m a little more at peace with it. Still not really liking it, but more at peace, knowing that this is what I need to do. 

For awhile now I’ve been seeing the title of a book on this exact topic: ‘The In-Between’ authored by Jeff Goins, a writer whose blog I’ve been following for a couple of years.  

He says: 

“Moments of breakthrough are not where life’s greatest transformation happens; the stuff that God uses to shape us often lies in the in-between. It’s the bus stops and layovers and DMV lines and moments of unintentional pause that force us to become better people.

That’s not to say there aren’t moments of epiphany. There are. It’s just that most of us find ourselves living somewhere in the in-between.

Learning to live in this tension, to be content in these moments of waiting, may be our greatest struggle — and our greatest opportunity to grow. “

Whatever the outcome will be in this situation, I’m being shaped!

(not my photo)

Wow! I thought I had a neat and tidy ending to this writing but I just this moment realized that this ties in to something God has been teaching me and a writing that’s been in process for almost a year. 

THIS! RIGHT NOW!  Is part of the shaping and re-shaping. I’m in the potters hand.

No tidy ending…just continuing to learn…and continuing to surrender my agenda…to Him...and to His agenda.

(not my photo)