Surgery update, part 2

Hi again, friends.

Mom is still in the hospital--has been here since February 18--and the doctor is saying she should be home by the end of the weekend. If you have been following my Facebook or Twitter account (www.twitter.com/ohmylands), you know that it has been an up-and-down adventure so far. There have been a couple really tough days, and several very good days.

At this point, Mom is doing well. The doctor is happy with the way she is progressing, and she's finally able to eat some simple foods for the first time in a week and a half. I appreciate all the people who have called her and sent her cards, and all the friends who have been checking in on me as well. Thanks again for your love and suppport.

Surgery update

Hi friends. My mom had her surgery yesterday, and I'm happy to report that the doctor said it all went very well. She will be in the hospital well into next week, but we will be playing things by ear each day.

She didn't sleep last night--I was here at the hospital with her overnight. And today, she is having a lot of pain. She's not seeing visitors right now as a result. but the whole family appreciates your prayers and support.

I am relying mainly on Twitter and Facebook to get my updates out. Our internet access is limited right now, so those are the best way to stay updated.

Thanks again for being a part of this journey with us.

"Can I order bacon with it?"

It's been another long hiatus for me, and I am heading into what will probably be another one. I'm realizing that, in a sense, this blog really does mirror my life. There are times where I am present and intentional and funny and on top of everything, and then... there's February.

In blog- and real-life-form, I have disappeared for two weeks or more at a time. I am sure there are a couple friends who are certain I am avoiding them; each time they contact me I am out of town, on my way out of town, or otherwise entangled. If you're one of those friends, here's two things you need to know: 1) I'm not avoiding you and 2) you're not alone.

Also in blog- and real-life, there are the things I want to talk about and can't. There's the Haiti post I have sat down to write multiple times and have given up because I am crying too hard to type. Someday, it'll be written. Someday when I'm braver.

My mom is going back into the hospital this week, hopefully for the last time. So I'll be away again for a while. Prayers are, as always, appreciated, if you're the type. I'll be abandoning my family in their time of need on Monday, however, because The Magnetic Fields are playing at the Aladdin. Here's The Magnetic Fields, unclassifiable as they may be:

Also, in a not-exactly-unhealthy-but-probably-unwise bid for stress management, I have bought a ridiculous amount of music in the last month. And while multiple things have cycled through the car cd player, Metric's "Fantasies" seems to have taken up residence officially. The others will have to find somewhere else to be, I suppose. Below, because I don't know how to post a a simple audio track, is another cheesy still YouTube video of my favorite track:

In closing, I would like to point out that the title of today's blog was spoken to me by two separate people this week. They make terrible vegetarians.

"How did I get here?"

January will be over in a matter of hours. I will be a year older in a matter of days (Technically, I'll only be a couple days older, but you know, it's what we say.).

The start of 2010 has been an odd one. I refuse to call it difficult, or rocky, or anything like that. But it has been odd.

My mom just finished another week in the hospital, and it was a week of questions and half-answers and retractions and revisions, and for the most part, it was a lot of unsettledness. Thankfully, she is once again at home, and things seem to be figured out. Fingers crossed, etc.

At the start of last week, I got the idea in my head that what I needed in my life was Talking Heads. I was certain that there was a connection to be easily made there, in the current unsettledness in me and the twitchy, generally agitated sounds of the music. And every time I thought of it, there would be a Talking Heads song on the radio, or in the store, or wherever I happened to be, almost immediately. This tends to happen to me quite a bit--I think, "Wow, it'd be great to hear ____________ right now," and within 15 minutes, they appear.

You would think that would be enough, but this is the other thing that happens to my brain: When I get a need for a particular band in my head, nothing else will satiate the need, no matter how close, how brilliant, how compelling Band B may be. And so despite the songs here and there, I found myself heading to Music Millennium to put some lotion on the itch. I walked out with some Talking Heads and the new Magnetic Fields, and I feel so much better.

I also feel like a total nerd, especially after realizing as I drove away that almost exactly two years ago, I was in Everyday Music on Sandy with some friends (another fine local establishment; let's hear it for Portland music shops!), and I bought what was the new Magnetic Fields album at the time ("Distortion", if you're curious), and the second Band of Horses cd. I don't know how or why I remember these details, but at least I'm somewhat consistent.

So, January's been odd. And 2010 has not settled into a groove as yet. But apparently, for me, nothing says "Happy early birthday, self!" like being able to drive down Burnside singing "Psycho Killer". Charming, isn't it?

1 Corinthians 13:12

Hospitals are intensely lonely places. They're buildings crammed full of isolation, and while hospitals can also bring life in and give life back, when you're the one who is sick and in pain, it's unlikely you'll be thinking of the birth day celebrations happening down another corridor.

My mom was in the hospital last week, and thank God, she's home now and recovering. But for eight days she was stuck in a bed, and I knew that if I felt alone walking the halls after visiting her, the loneliness must have been amplified tenfold for her. I spent her first night with her, not-sleeping in a chair and listening to a tv that was too low to hear but impossible to turn off, and I had a lot of time to think.

The day my mom went into the hospital, I had planned originally to write a delayed "2009 in retrospect" post. I hadn't been here in a while, an entire holiday season and new year had passed, and it was time to emerge again.

On good days, 1 Corinthians 13:12 came readily to mind, and I would hear probably only the only King James Version translation I have ever used: "For now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face..."

Revelations 21:5, in my Heather paraphrase, would pop in too. I would open my eyes, open my front door, and all was new: new year, new life, new heart, new hope.

On bad days, those words might come to mind in a whisper, but I would also be reminded of the note I wrote to a friend, calling 2009 a "shockingly difficult year". And it was. The latter half of the year in particular was, for me, filled with confusion, anger and fear.

There were too many sleepless nights to keep count of. I found myself withdrawing often, grasping at occasional straws, and I made some choices I soon regretted. I medicated a broken heart in both healthy and unhealthy ways. And I found my heart re-broken and broken again, until I didn't even know who or what was doing the breaking. I know it sounds dramatic. And if I say that at times I felt as if I was being torn limb from limb and then held under water, I know that would be hyperbolic, but it certainly didn't feel that way.

But then. Now, then. In one of my seminary classes a professor loved to point out whenever the phrase "now then" was used in the biblical text. It signified a shift, a sign that some stage had ended, and something new was on its way. So...now then.

I'm not sure if it was the holidays or the hospital or a combination of a thousand conversations, but I started to see, again and again, that in the midst of the pain and the fear and the darkness, there had been all along these glimpses of grace. Some were tiny lights, flickers of friends stopping by, and some have been raging fires, times when I have been rescued. All in one year.

And my life is always this way. Grace is always there, trailing behind or paving the road ahead. As graduation from seminary loomed, I told a group of professors and students I felt as though I was looking out onto an empty horizon. No land, no other boats. It was an image, for me, that went beyond alone-ness, into something else I was afraid to try to name.

And lately, because of those glances and long hard stares at grace, the image has changed. There may still be an empty horizon, but I now realize that staring straight ahead has caused me to miss the people who have stood beside me on the shore. Now, I look to my right and my left, and I am overwhelmed, not with the company I keep, but the company who keeps me. I am supported and loved and uplifted and encouraged in ways I can't describe and in ways I am sure I don't even know. But I don't stand on an empty beach, and the ocean ahead of me keeps a steady rhythm.

I have no doubt that in some sense, 2010 will be a shockingly difficult year, but I don't believe that will keep it from being good as well. I don't do new year's resolutions, but I know that this year I will continue to heal, I will do my best to be honest and true, and I will keep both eyes open wide for grace along the way. I know I'll find it.

"I have four dollars."

I have been avoiding writing this blog for several days now. I'm not sure why, but I think it hits a nerve in me that makes me uncomfortable with my own position, and so I avoid it.

The other day, I had just parked at Target. As I turned away from my car, a man approached me, speaking as he walked. He looked a little worn, but not necessarily homeless. He said that he and his wife had come from Madras, had car trouble, and were now stuck in Portland. I struggled to follow his story as it grew, details being added as he continued. His wife's mother was on her way to Portland, he said. They had a cat with them. They had tried all the shelters, and they were full (I knew this was true--this was the deepest day of last week's cold snap). His wife was pregnant.

He continued to talk, said he had asked for help from the police, who had given him a copy of the Rose City Resource. Eventually, he said that his wife was at the Portland Hostel (he had a brochure in his hand) but that they needed money to pay for the room. I knew that the question was coming, and I knew I had some singles in my purse, and I knew I couldn't lie to him.

"I have four dollars," I said.

"Well, that'll make a big difference," he said. I handed him the money, he told me to have a blessed day, and walked on through the parking lot. Other people made a wide path away from him when he made eye contact. I saw a friend shortly after, and she had a lot of questions. "Why did they bring a cat? How do you know he actually went to the hostel?" I only had one answer for her.

"I don't know," I said, "but I don't think it's my job to know."

Here's what I do know: I could have said "Look, buddy, things are tough all over. I don't have a job right now, and it's just not happening," and few people would have blamed me. I also know that things are true. I rarely have cash on me--I often get asked for money, and have to say honestly I can't help someone. And that four dollars, by God's grace, was not standing between me and having heat or lights in my home. It was not my only chance to eat for the day, and it was not making any difference in me having a roof over my head for the night. The truth is that those four dollars would have almost certainly gone toward a coffee, and little else. And I am not called to be anyone's interrogator.

It's possible that my four dollars bought him a bottle, bought him drugs. It's possible. It's also possible that he returned to the Portland Hostel that night with a handful of one dollar bills, and that he and his family had a place to stay for the evening. I hope that was the outcome, but I will probably never know.

Was it a waste on my part? I don't think so. Hopefully, if nothing else, I and some other people listened to his story rather than avoid him, and that he experienced some small kindnesses in the course of the cold day.

"Apostrophes are excellent at hiding in caves."

I'm a little behind the buzz, but Oprah had Jenna Jameson on her show the other day. Whitney Matheson, who is the pop culture critic for USA Today (Hello, fantasy job. Nice to meet you.), also has a Twitter account, @popcandy. And the day before the broadcast, Matheson said the following:

"Oprah is interviewing Jenna Jameson tomorrow (?!). Man, I can't wait to hear Jenna's advice on how to live your best life."

It got me thinking. For the record, I didn't watch the Oprah episode, and my knowledge of Jenna Jameson is strictly limited to magazine articles (real ones, with words). But I do know that she's an extremely savvy woman, and she has basically built herself an empire. She even has instructional videos. And now she's on Oprah's couch, which is essentially a seal of approval from the most powerful voice in world culture. In a sense, Jameson's become the porn star next door.

I am not here to judge Jameson's actions, to critique her moral position, or to spark a debate on the evils or benefits of the porn industry. I'm here talking about Oprah and a porn star because I think Whitney Matheson's simple little tweet was actually quite profound.

Oprah is all about living your best life. She's also had Joel Osteen on her show more than once, and has embraced his extra-positive view of living the best life possible. And Osteen's latest book, It's Your Time, also just came out.

Matthew Paul Turner has a blog I follow, Jesus Needs New PR, and he's always full of snarky comments for almost everybody. He posted about It's Your Time, and posted the text from the book jacket, with his own comments interspersed. I have taken them out, but reposted it. I'm going to let the text speak for itself.

For legality's sake, I'll make it clear that the following is the property of Osteen's publisher, Simon & Schuster. Any grammatical or spelling mistakes are typos, and should be blamed entirely on me.

Get your hopes up. Raise your expectations. Your best days are in front of you. In challenging times, it may be hard to see better days ahead. You may feel as though your struggles will never end, that things won't ever turn around for you. This is exactly the moment to put your faith into action and expect God's blessings. It's your time to declare your faith, to look for God's favor, and to give control of your life to Him so that you can find fulfillment in His plans for you!

It's your time to believe.

It's not easy to always be optimistic. Life can be difficult and in hard economic times it's not just your finances that suffer. Your relationships can be strained. Your health can be stressed. When one part of your life after another takes a bad turn, you can feel like there is no end in sight, no way out. The truth is maybe you don't have an answer. But God does! Maybe you don't have the strength. But God does!

It's your time for favor.

In It's Your Time, best-selling author Joel Osteen, pastor of the nation's largest church, offers the inspirational truth that no matter where you stand in life, you are never alone. He reminds you also that the bigger your burden, the greater your blessings to come. You may have neglected God, but He has not abandoned you. He has already released good things into your future. As long as you're breathing, you can still reclaim His favor by renewing your faith and accepting His plans for you.

It's your time for restoration.

In these pages, Joel offers assurances that God does not want you to merely survive challenging times, He wants you to thrive. When you give your life over to Him, God will send new opportunities your way so that you can soar to new heights of fulfillment. History has shown that the most difficult times can serve as a catalyst for creativity, innovation and accomplishment. If you hold onto your faith, ask for God's favor, and don't give in to depression or discouragement, you will emerge not bitter but better, not a victim but a victor.

It's your time to trust.

God is already working in your life to arrange the right people, the right skills and the right opportunities to give you the tools you need to fulfill and exceed your dreams. Drawing from Joel's experience and those of people around the world, It's Your Time offers messages of faith, hope and strength to help you rise above any circumstance so that you can fulfill God's best plan for your life.

It's your time to stretch.

Joel has filled this book with bold new prayers, inspiring stories and practical tools for moving forward in faith. You will find inspiration from others who have overcome adversity and achieved their dreams. You will find proven methods for not just picking up the pieces but for building a new life better than you'd imagined. The hopeful messages and warm encouragements in this book will push you to expand your horizons beyond what you thought you were capable of doing so that you might go even farther than you'd ever dreamed of going.

It's your time!

I hope somebody can understand where I'm going. Oprah has adopted a "whatever works" policy that she is sharing, quite literally, the world over. Whatever gives you your best life! If it's God, great. If it's sex, great. If it's food...sorta great. If nothing else, you living your best life now will keep Oprah in business as she shills for every new diet fad and every new mildly attractive doctor she meets.

But ultimately, Oprah's message is that it's all about you. It's all about your pleasures, your satisfaction, and your fulfillment. And no wonder both Jameson and Olsteen make great Oprah guests--their messages are exactly the same.

Thinking about these two made me think about how often I have misrepresented God and the gospel, how often I have made it sound like something simple, happy and easy. The truth is that my relationship with God brings me joy, but it is far from easy. It has been an experience of letting go of myself and releasing my dreams, not of finding fulfillment in them, as Osteen supposes.

This doesn't mean that I don't have dreams or hopes--it means that I have a new hope, one that isn't based on my success or failure, or my ability to perform. It's based in allowing myself to be changed, and to be transformed, little by little, into who I am and will be. I understand that part of that will mean failure, and part of that will mean continually allowing my dreams to change and re-emerge, rather than demanding that they succeed and expand. It means that I won't always be satisfied in other people, and that I won't be able to make them react and respond how I want, no matter how many videos I watch or inspirational prayers I pray.

Jenna Jameson, Joel Osteen and Oprah Winfrey are not the enemy. I am just like them, and at heart, I want the same things they're offering. I want what I want, even as that changes day to day. The real enemy can wear lots of names (greed, selfishness, pride), but it's always hard to define.

What do you see as the enemy? What's the best way to not be taken over by it?