When the Lord closes a door...

I found out Tuesday evening that because of my food allergy, I will not be going on a mission trip to South East Asia this summer.   When I found out, I was pretty devastated.  My eyes glossed over as I stared in silence at the email infront of me.  "The conclusion will be unwelcome to you and hard for you to accept," wrote the medical advisor, who a few days before had told me things were good to go.  At first, probably out of shock more than acceptance, I thought "Ok, God, this isn't where I'm meant to be." 
But then a wave of emotion flooded me - and I felt like I was drowning from the inside.  Tears wouldn't fall fast enough...and I felt my disappointment, my frustration, me brokenness building up inside me, racing through my body; poisoning me.  Rejected. Declined. Disapproved....No.  Not going.  Not serving.  Not teaching.  Not learning.  Nobody was on facebook, msn, or skype.  Mom had just started work.  Dad was still at work...I felt lost, trapped...alone. 

And so I laced up my shoes, grabbed my keys, and ran down the stairs.  I was just going to run.  I was just going to run until my legs wouldn't carry me.  I was just going to run as the rain fell on me.  I was just going to run until my clothes were soaked through, and I was shivering, and I could fall down far away from what I'd just read, and the truth could sink in, and my heart could calm down, and I could breathe.

I stepped outside, and just as my foot touched the path outside of the sheltered doorway, the rain stopped.  I walked towards the canal, crossed the road, crossed the footbridge, went down the steps, and now I was on the path that I hadn't walked since before the snow.  The path where the ground was still soft, and moist.  The path right on the edge of the canal, where there were no bikes, and not many runners.  I could see myself in the puddles.

I ended up walking, and singing, and running, and just standing still breathing.  When I'd calmed down a little, and I was so cold I couldn't move my fingers, I turned around, and meandered back to school.  As long as I didn't think about what I'd just learned, I was ok.

Later, my roommate and I went out for comfort food, and a movie.  We came back, called Veronica over, put our mattresses on the floor, and sat eating ketchup chips, and when we were done with those, it was icecream out of the tub.  Finally we settled down to watch the movie - Phantom of the Opera.

Maybe it was the ketchup chips - because when we were seven, and dreams that were broken were hastily replaced, Emily and I would take break from rehearsals, sit with our backs against the wall  of the theatre, and eat ketchup chips which we'd purchased from the EMCS vending machines.  Maybe it was the movie - because one musical always makes me think of another musical.  And the thought leads to the songs, and the songs lead to the characters, and the characters lead to the words.  The movie ended, Taylor and I put our mattresses back on our beds.  I slipped under the covers, and stared at the ceiling.
When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.
I fell asleep.

Wednesday I was still pretty upset. I had wanted so much to experience this new place.  I had wanted so much to be serving God on foreign soil.  I had wanted so much to be pursuing my passion of teaching, while at the same time helping the needy.
I had wanted so much.

Slowly, I started to find more peace with the decision.  Obviously, Asia isn't where I'm supposed to be this summer.  Hadn't I just spent an afternoon, walking along the canal, talking about how painful it was to come to Ottawa - but how it was the right thing in so many ways? Hadn't I just been at church, praying Not my will but Yours be done.  Hadn't I applied for this trip because I wanted to go where I was being led?

If it had been the right thing, I would have been going.  And I know - from experience - that going where I'm called is going to work out so much better than my plans ever could.

So now I just need to find the window.  That in itself could be the adventure I was looking for.

Waiting

I like quiet rainy days.  The kind when you know there's things do to, but everything inside of you is resting, and your heart and soul are at peace with that.  The kind when you sit in a chair, cozy by the window, hands softly wrapped around a warm cup of tea.  This is the kind of rain that makes me feel like a child, safe inside, waiting for the sun to come out.  It's a carefree waiting.  This is the kind of rain that is sure to be followed by sunshine and soft green grass, and fresh clean air, and delicate flower petals.  

At some point, anyway.

The past few weeks have been such an exhausting exercise in patience!  Waiting to find out what I'm doing this summer - when I'm going home, if I'm going on a mission trip, what kind of job I should be looking for, when I can book flights, when I can tell people what I'm up to...it's like doing the stretches before a run.  I know that I'll hurt afterwards if I dont.  But sometimes, I just want to jump in.  I just want to run the race. I just want to be excited, rushed, and happy about what I'm doing. 

Since my last blog post, I've probably checked my email more times than is really required in six months.  (Yes, I know, it's only been 6 days...) Today I found out that if I didn't have a seafood allergy, I'd definitely be going to South East Asia for my mission trip.  BUT, since I have one, I might not get to go at all.  And so I'm waiting, and praying, still/again.

Despite the waiting, I have actually had a pretty good weekend. Friday night, Campus for Christ was held at this really wonderful prayer house about 2 km away.  My friend and I both had an idea of how to get there, but we weren't entirely sure.  I wrote down directions, but skipped the first few steps because I knew where they were.  Unfortunately, I didn't write down where my directions began. And so for this reason, we had some problems.  We ended up going on instinct, turning the opposite way I'd written to go numerous times, taking streets because they name looked familiar, or the shape of the road looked right.  We got there on time, without taking a single wrong turn.  

Now, if you know how fabulous I am at getting lost...you'll be amazed.  

We had such a great time worshipping and just talking about the things that have happened both at uOttawa and Carleton this year.  Some pretty astounding work has been done!

Saturday I had a quiet day to myself, got some work and laundry done.  Probably not too much else.  

I love Sundays.  I love going to church.  I love worshiping.  I love the people there.   After the service, the young adults were staying at the church to make some pizza and play board games.  I'd forgotten how much I LOVE homemade pizza.  Lane and I left before the games, as we both had lots of work to do.  And I actually did get some work done, not as much as I wanted to, but probably more than I had expected to.  Some of Neil's friends were over for dinner as well, and the conversation around the table was very...deep.  I wonder if in 4 years I'll actually think and talk about things that seriously?  At this point in my life though, the conversation made me feel really young, and kind of inadequate.

Monday was another day of waiting - but it was a good day.  THe last nice day before what's supposed to be a week of icky weather.  I went to my morning class, went for a walk along the canal and had a really good talk with one of my friends, went to my evening class, had tuna casserole for dinner, skyped with Timothy, made apple crisp for dessert, did some work...and went to sleep.

That brings me today, which I'm not quite ready to talk about...I'll update soon though.

Good times and accidents.

Maybe it's just because I've never been in such a concentrated area of young-ish people with easy-ish access to alcohol, but St. Patricks day was RIDICULOUS here.  So many people were dressed up, wearing huge silly hats, green socks, shirts, facepaint..everything.  And by the time I went to my first class at 11:30 there were already people wandering around drinking, or at least carrying huge quantities of alcohol into rez.  By 2 there were people screaming all over the place.  By 5:30 this had turned into large groups of people, chanting and singing silly (very un-irish) songs at the top of their lungs.  For the first time this year, even though we've been through 101 week, halloween, end of semester, beginning of semester, and just random obsessive drinking days, yesterday we had to register guests when we brought them in.  Only two guests each, student card and keys required to register them.  This is in effect today and tomorrow too.

With Taylor going out, Veronica studying for an exam she had this morning, and Amber in Toronto, I was prepared for a nice quiet evening.  I'd planned to play the guitar for a bit, to watch some shows, to do some reading, and have an early night.  

Veronica came over around 9 to bring me her guitar...and somehow this turned into talking about weddings, and somehow that turned into playing various songs from our favourite musicals, singing along, standing and dancing on the beds, and some sort of strange pillow fight/choreographed dance.  This lasted almost 2 hours, and only stopped when the drunk boyfriend of my next-door-neighbour walked in.  

Veronica and I  hung out until 1 am.  And then, just as I was thinking of sleep, I decided to worship.  Just one song, I told myself.  At 2, my fingers in pain from the metal strings, my eyes barely open, I went to sleep.  

Taylor slept at her friend's place, and I had the room to myself.  Accident? I woke up to my alarm feeling a little sick.  I reset it for 11.  I turned it off, apparently, and woke up at 1.  

I'd been doing so well for the last week and a half at waking up early!  So much for getting a lot of work done before my 4pm class.  

At least it was a nice sleep, and I don't feel sick anymore.  

Before sweet turns sour

This afternoon I sat out in the sun, too hot in my jeans and tank top.  There's talk of rain and a little snow in the forecast, and I waned to take advantage of the weather.

It was sooooo nice, sitting outside, listening to happy people around me, the breeze, blowing my hair and the pages of my book.  If the grass had been dryer, it could have been summer.

I finished the story I had to read for class, and drew for a few minutes before heading to English.
So, assuming English will have the same effect it usually does, I wanted to record that I am in a wonderful mood!

Time to pay attention...more later.

Sunny and 15 degrees

Today I:

Drew a picture of myself, and I actually like it. (SHOCKED????)

Took notes and payed attention for my ENTIRE class, even the rants!
Did dishes for an hour...I didn't even know I had that many dishes
At some point before going for a run, hurt a muscle without realizing it.
Realized it while running...but ran anyway.
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the first flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the second flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the third flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the fourth flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the fifth flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the sixth flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the seventh flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the eighth flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the ninth flight of stairs
Considered how long it will take me to start listening to my body, ascending the tenth flight of stairs
Considered how many more days there are of lent (times 10), how many times I go up the stairs a day (again, times 10), and how many days I can expect to be in pain.

If I you hear about a girl going up and down stairs on her arms in the near future, it might be me.

At least the run made me feel happy!

silver, white winters that melt into spring...

...these are a few of my favourite things.

Usually, when I'm walking to my class and the wind is blowing hard at my face, giving life to my hair, pushing my clothes tight against my body, making my eyes water, I am sure that if I just made it to the other side of whatever large building is infront of me, I'd find the ocean.  And I keep expecting to smell - and even taste - the salty air.  But today, the wind was warm.  It was strong. But not a wild strong.  A comforting strong.  A breath of life strong.  A Spring strong.

When classes were finished for the day I meandered down to the canal, and slowly, breathing in the sweetness of this new air, walked up and down, the warm sun beating down on my head, my sweater slipping off my shoulders until I gave up on it all together.  Today there was life around.  There was sound in the wind.  I heard birds.  Ducks, always a male and a female together, dove in an excited frenzy up and down, up and down in the emerald green water which is swiftly conquering the ice that's been in its place for months.   Squirrels chased eachother over tender grass.  The ground is almost like a forest floor, the melting snow has softened it so much that it dips down when you touch it, carefully cushioning your step and then bouncing back up as you take another.  

My camera in my hands, I thought about the beautiful photo's I missed the opportunity to capture.  First, there will tiny pools of clear water that appeared around the tree trunks, tinting the white snow that touched their edges a blueish grey as they silently crept towards the earth beneath.

And soon, there were giant, but shallow puddles that one would assume to be a myriad of mirages, magically turning a parking lot to sky, giving rubber boots, high heels and tipping-toes deep, vibrant roots, and life in a once solid, opaque world beneath.  And the water carved away and shrinking snow banks, retreating into nothingness, revealing once again a life that's been dormant all winter.  Wake up grass, moss, weeds even.  And suddenly the world went from white, to blue, to green.  Well, green in the eyes of those who haven't seen it for almost long enough to believe it was gone.  Green that appears lush and beautiful to some, brown and old to others. 

I see the beauty.  And trust me, the grass is greener on this side.

To see all the photos: 

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=163942&id=538346974&l=46b9df766d

~Yesterday~

Spring forward.  

I woke up, thankful that I'd remembered to look up a bus schedule, and accidently clicked on facebook instead, and happened to read the status of a friend who'd happened to write a note about daylight savings.  Some saving grace, I'd say.  It was raining.  Big, cool drops which sounded like home, falling on my hood and sliding down my sleeves.  Warm on the bus, I watched it.  I don't know if I'll ever picture Ottawa raining.  I can picture it snowing - peaceful flakes, angry flakes, confused flakes.  I can picture it sunny - bright colours, sandals, music.  I can picture it cloudy - resting, thinking.  But rain? Rain is something I need to feel.  Rain is something I need to smell.  I need to feel my bangs, curling and sticking to my face.  I need to feel my jeans, damp and cold against my legs.   I like feeling protected by my rain coat. 

And I love the rain on the way to church.  It prepares me for sanctuary.  It makes me thankful.  It makes me reflective.  It makes me want to sing.  

I was alone on Sunday.  Not really alone, but by myself in the pew.  Lane was sleeping in - but he warned me first, though I had guessed as much.  His parents are on vacation.  And so I came to church, found my place in the sanctuary just as the choir finished going over their anthem.  I prayed.  I sat in the quiet, breathing.    Katherine, the lady who sits behind me, came in a few minutes later, and our small talk soon turned into deeper, more meaningful, more connected talk.  She'd say hello to people who waved at her - and tell me about how wonderful they are.  That man, she said, he and his wife would always get together with my husband and I.  The ladies for tea, the men for a glass of wine. 

 He was at the hospital when her husband passed away.  He had to leave right after it happened.  He couldn't be there.  I listen and watch her eyes glaze with tears.  They aren't bitter tears, they aren't happy tears, they aren't anguished tears.  They are pure love.  And she shared this moment with me.  

Later, some ladies from the choir who had been sitting in front of me asked me to consider joining.   My smile and laugh were about past experience.  My joy was about feeling home.  I had a lovely conversation with them as we waited to shake Pastor Dan's hand on the way out the door.  I stayed for tea, not yet ready to face the rain, or the homework waiting for me when I got back to the university.  Normally, I stick to Lane.  I follow.  We either both follow Lianne, or I speak to who he speaks to, or we just speak to eachother, or we just stand there, waiting for Lianne to tell us she's ready to go.  But this week, I was by myself.   I ended up talking to so many people.  And some people that I've met once or twice introduced me to the people they were talking to, and then that person introduced me to some others, and before I knew it, I was one of the last people there.  The couple I was speaking to at this time, Richard and Carol, invited me over for lunch, and I accepted. 

And all at once, I felt the love of a congregation come around me.  How blessed I am, to have two incredible church families. 

Maybe a little distracted...

(Friday Afternoon, March 12)
Right so...these are the notes I took during English...

“Describing this room and the board, and the lights on the ceiling and the back of the room, and the still faces is not describing the reality of this room. The reality of this room is what is going on inside of each of us."

Some of the pictures on my wall are crooked. Actually, an entire arrangement of photos is crooked. Little reminders of people and places I love, meant to be perfectly lined up on the wall instead dip down a little to the right. And I haven’t fixed them yet, even though I so often look up at the wall, and feel as though my own work is mocking me. I put them up that way. I put them up imperfectly. Is it silly that on par with my desire to fix them is my desire to stand up to them?

When I look past the lines, I’m caught up in the faces. In one picture, life is so carefree. I think I’m seven or eight – young enough that I’m completely comfortable to be spending the day outside in my first two piece bathing suit. Young enough that I’m completely content to be spending the day with my brother, playing with logs and rocks in the cool, shallow waters of the San Juan River. I can feel the sun beating down on my shoulders and hair in another. I can hear the waves coming in against the shore, and Emily coming up with excuses to not be in the picture. But I win, and we lean in toward each other, smile, and capture a moment at the beach during a grade 12 spare. One of my favourites is a photo from a camping trip a few summers ago. Devon, Emily, Justin and I were hanging out amid a massive log jam. Devon tried to take a picture of me: but it flashed a little too soon. I’m just about to smile – but I look like I’m going to kill someone. And Justin seems to be lurking in the background, making a silly and somewhat scary face. I remember how horrified I was with this picture at the time. And now, I smile every time I see it. It reminds me of how little some worries are. It reminds me of how much perspective can change. It reminds me to think beyond the moment.

Yesterday I received some encouraging info about my mission trip. It’s still not set in stone, but it seems to becoming more of a reality. My mission trip to South Africa in 2007 was so life changing – I am more than excited for the experiences I’m sure to have if I go to South East Asia.

Surrealism: dream and reality combined together

Just a note

Hi!
So you may have noticed a sudden blogging increase, as well as a few changes to my blog!  These are most likely linked to the fact that I've been rather glued to my computer as of late, checking my email an average of once every 4 minutes in hopes of finding out if I"m going on my mission trip or not.

However, I wanted to point out that I've changed the commenting process, and if everything worked the way it was supposed to, it should be more possible to post comments now.

Enjoy your day!
-Jennifer

This Morning

This morning

Rays reach through my window,

touching my eyelids

warming my cheeks, shoulders, toes

there's a glow around me.

this morning.

This morning

Sounds like a sweet melody

Waking birds, running streams,

Wind.

Maybe it's inside of me.

This morning

My heart is beating

My lungs are full

My thirst is quenched

My body moves,

A dance,

A life.

This morning is vivid

It's yellow and green and orange

It's summer waves and baby leaves

It's daffodils and glistening dew

This morning is fragrant

Like after the rain

Like baking bread

Like shampoo

Like blooming flowers

This morning is soft

Like a child's skin

Like slowly moving water

Like green grass

Like clean sheets.

It is pure

fresh

new.

This day is beautiful,

Glorious,

Mine.

A little bounce in your step

I love the signs that Spring is in the air. People are smiling more, mornings are brighter, everything is escaping from the ice and snow that have kept them trapped all Winter. And people are walking with a little more bounce in their steps. Footballs and soccer balls are popping up all over, and when I walk outisde it looks like one of those "rez life" ads. How weird, that in one good aspect of life, ads are actually true?

This evening Taylor and I, whining, complaining, and expressing insincere phrases about how much we hate eachother went for a run along the canal. We ran 6 km, with only one break at the half way point. A good effect of peer pressure? She ran because I was still running, I kept running because she was running. By the end of it, we were pretty tired, but so alive! It felt so great to be outside, smelling the air. Noticing where the ice is melting away, where the grass is green, and how I couldn't see my breath.

One thing that was different about running with Taylor, was that we didn't talk. We both had music playing, and simply ran together. I usually don't like listening to music when I'm jogging, but this was different. The music was loud enough to tune out the traffic zooming past the trail we were running on. So I had the quiet of the night, and I was listening to praise music. My pace sped and slowed with the tempo of the song, my feet, my breath, my body - everything but my voice were going with the song, and I felt so blessed, so happy, and so close to God.

The night ended with tea, friends, and much mockery.

(It was a )

Goodnight!

"R2 says the chances of survival are 725 to 1. "

Those may be the odds of this post actually getting finished, since as you might have guessed, I’m watching Star Wars at the same time. I love writing…but Star Wars, even better, Star Wars on a screen that’s bigger than my laptop? Blog can’t stand up to the power of the force!

Right, so my nerdiness mostly aside, where does the phrase “My got up and go got up and left?” come from? Sometimes I’m ashamed to admit that it seems to apply to my life way more than it should. I sleep in every day – except Sundays and Mondays. On those days, I have such a hard time getting up. And even though I know that there are so many things I could - probably should - be doing with my time, when the sun is shining, the air smells fresh, and the room is lazy, it’s so nice to just lie cozy and quiet in bed.

My last few weeks have been such a blur. I really don’t know what happened to February. Somewhere in there I had a bunch of midterms, and some papers, and a ridiculous amount of reading. And then came March, which finally included the completion of a very, very long mission application.

February did, however, mark a step in my life which I’m now finally ready to write about. I dropped a class. Because I didn’t need it. Because I didn’t care about it. Because I couldn’t invest in it. Because I didn’t understand it. And my life as an overachiever is temporarily at an end. Sometimes I feel like I’m failing, like I’m just not trying hard enough, just not sacrificing enough. I don’t need to sleep in, or stay up talking with my friends, or spend Sunday afternoons relaxing, do I?

[Leia: I love you

Solo: Serious, longing (hysterical!) face I know.]

But I don’t want to repeat the mistakes I made in high school. I don’t want to be the girl who doesn’t have time for the people she cares about. I don’t want to be the girl who does well in school, and volunteers three times a week, and goes to church, and keeps her room clean, and doesn’t know anything about herself.

Maybe right now, I should be learning more than where to place pronouns en francais, the importance of transfer epithet , or the significance of the Cuban Missile Crisis.

The sun is shining again, it’s rays are warm, life giving. The snow is melting, revealing grass that is surprisingly green. Winter coats, boots, scarves, hats, mitts, and sweaters are being put away – in a cautious disbelief, is Spring actually here?

[I AM YOUR FATHER! Hopefully no explanation required.)

I’ve learned that black socks aren’t quite as bad as I once thought. I’ve learned that drinking pink juice out of a pink cup isn’t going to kill me. I’ve learned which types of tea are still good the next morning. I’ve learned that I can cook in a toaster oven. I’ve learned that I can stay up all night if I have to.

[Luke, it is your destiny]

I’ve learned that I don’t have to get straight A’s. I’m learning to accept it. I’ve learned to take quiet time. I’ve learned that I’m so much happier with more balance in my life. I’ve learned that I’m so not as grown up as I thought I was.

[I’ve learned that the person who played Vader, and the person that did his voice apparently were not the same!]

~ Later~

I also just wanted to give you a minor update on my mission application process, I mentioned that it's finally in! This week I also began getting some shots in anticipation of the trip. I still dont know if I'm going for sure, and when exactly the trip would be...but my work is done and now it's time to wait, and trust.

Anndd I have been trying to post some pictures from my trip to Toronto on reading week, but for some reason, I'm having difficulties uploading them. I might try later, but in the mean time, you can see my entire album at:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=159960&id=538346974&l=5001745833

The secret plan? Amber and I took photos for every letter of the alphabet. Some of them are pretty funny!