A Monday Morning Pick-me-up

It's Monday morning and I have three weeks left at my job to organize 4 1/2 years of files, emails, and priorities for my successor. In addition to my normal job responsibilities AND completing an extensive government grant proposal--the 176 pages of instructions to submit a six page concept paper should explain my ever amping stress levels.

Needless to say, I'm feeling a little frenzied, hurried, helpless.

I want to reject this moment. This rolling out of bed. The mountain of unending tasks set before me. But I'm reminded of the words of Ann Voskamp in One Thousand Gifts:

"I will not desecrate this moment with ignorant hurry or sordid ingratitude."

When I say

I don't want this task.
I don't want this moment.
I don't want this job.

I am saying

I don't want this God.

And that is not what I want to be saying. That is not how I want to spend this morning or these next few weeks or my life--in ignorant hurry or sordid ingratitude.

Like my favorite Sara Grove's song, I want to "Add to the Beauty" instead of seething in stress.

The lyrics go like this,

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside 

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful
This is grace, an invitation

Yes, it's way too early on a Monday morning, but today is also an invitation to be beautiful.

And so before I hit the cubicle, I will take a moment to give thanks, to see beauty, to stack joy. You can't add to the beauty if you don't see the beauty in the first place.

The accumulation starts with acknowledgement, so before hurry can apprehend, I will stop and count the graces.

Today, Monday June 11, 2012, I am grateful for

1. The day I get to spend--in the same office!-- with my friend and coworker who usually works from Colorado. Welcome back, Corbyn! 
2. The chance to laugh and pray together at morning staff meeting.
3. The opportunity to grab lunch with a coworker before he leaves for Thailand and I leave for Guatemala.
4. The privilege of inviting others into the life-giving work of Plant With Purpose. 

Thank you thank you thank you thank you.

Now, let's start adding to the beauty!

The Carnival in a Cubicle

Thank you, God, that you will restore my joy. 

Thank you that will turn my mourning into dancing, my weeping into laughing, and my sadness into joy.

Thank you for the gifts you've already given me. Thank you for unexpected joy. Thank you for my coworkers and friends who remind me of your love, who bring me joy, who decorate my office and make me laugh and dance and celebrate. 

Day 30: "Welcome to the "It's Aly's last day working with Christi" fiesta.

Thank you. 

*I still have 29 more days at Plant With Purpose, but my coworker, Christi, leaves for Africa tomorrow, so Friday was technically our last day working together in the same physical office. Thanks for the festivities, Christi! 

For the Love of Mom

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there!

My beautiful mother.

In honor of my own sweet, empathetic, creative, intelligent, inquisitive, and grace-filled mother, Susan Lewis, I'm reposting a piece about the power of my mother's words and love to transcend depression and bring life to the full.

Thank you, mom, for believing in me. Thank you for living out your beliefs in such real and tangible ways. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for teaching me to ask the question, What if I am worth loving?

***

I circled the small space in my on-campus apartment bedroom, talking to my mom on the phone. Again my mom was asking if I had gone to church. Again the answer was no.

It was a conversation like hundreds of others we had entertained that year when I spiraled in post-study-abroad-the-world-is-an-unjust-and-awful-place-depression. The conversation consisted of mostly silence, deep breaths, and occasional grunts on my part.

I thought my mom would launch into another tirade about going to church, seeking help, doing anything to get out of the pit I was in.

Instead she told me something that I've never forgotten.

She said, “I want you to feel better about yourself, not just because you should, but because it’s a reality.”

For the first time in probably my whole life, I entertained that thought for real, like really for real. What if I really am lovable? What if that is the reality? What if the guilt and shame and anger I'd placed on myself for not measuring up to whatever impossible standards I'd created was just that, something I myself had created and entrapped myself in?

What if love was the reality?

Within the next few months my depression and self-hatred hit an all-time high and I hit an all-time low, and I realized that I either needed to live like I mattered and life mattered or life would be unbearable. And my mom’s words echoed in my mind.

"You are worth loving."

With the idea that love and acceptance could maybe come from something bigger than and outside of myself, I decided to live what my mom had believed about me all along. Suspending my doubts, I launched my own Love Aly campaign in which I radically rejected any thoughts of self-hatred and did my best to "fake it till you make it," choosing to live like I loved myself even if I didn't feel it.

And it was this experience of unconditional love for myself that brought me back to church, to faith in God, to life.

Thank you seems like the understatement of a lifetime, but I'll say it anyway. Thank you, mom. I love you.

Happy Mother's Day!

***

Readers, I'd love to hear about your mom--What have your learned from your mom? What qualities do you most admire in her? How are celebrating Mother's Day?