Self-sufficiency

Self-sufficiency. Merriam-Webster’s defines it as being able to maintain oneself or itself without outside aid; capable of providing for one's own needs.  I’ve spent my life in self-sufficiency and robbed myself of God’s sustaining grace, the kind of grace that God metes out for dealing with the trials and tribulations of life.   

Most huge things in life are not meant to be dealt with on one’s own.  Instead I am supposed to approach God’s throne with confidence, trust Him during the trial, that the trial has purpose and meaning and that it will bring maturity as He says it will instead of shutting down and not allowing the pain to enter.   

Shutting down makes one numb.  I woke up this morning, and my one thought was that I was numb.  I’m not feeling the pain of my marriage to a wonderful, supportive husband who I will never give up but who doesn’t understand me like I really want to be understood (which hurts although I believe it to be typical), the pain of dealing with two physically needy parents, the pain of not having and, more and more, never having children of my own, even the old pains of having to leave all my friends after 6th grade or further back of my Dad leaving me and my Mom.   

I’m tired of my self-sufficiency.  Hebrews 4:16 says, “Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”  James 1:2 -4 says “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”  

 So come, pain, wrack my heart with your sharpness during these my trials, but also come, Lord Jesus, send your grace to support me in my trials and bring the perseverance and maturity that You long for me to develop.  And thank you for the  timely sermon from McLean Bible Church’s online church this morning along with the music that softened my heart to listen.

Time Won't Give Me Time

Why is it that I can get up at 5 am and still be late to work at 8 am? How come I can walk downstairs at 7:15 and not leave until 7:50? Where does the time go? I'm reading this article in the Scientific American about time. It's not giving me answers. I need to know, people, because time has given me problems my whole life.

My Mom and step-Dad used to say that I obviously believed that Star Trek was real. They said that because I would leave home at the same time that I was supposed to be someplace. They figured that I reckoned that I could just beam wherever it was I needed to be and be on time.

I go into a store and time stops. Really, it does! It doesn't start again until I come out of the store after strolling around touching, trying on, and paying. Then it's as if time has sped up out of control, and I'm late again. No, I know what you are saying and no, I'm not imagining it. Time really does stop. I forget all about time until I've left the merchandise induced trance that is shopping. And it doesn't matter how much I remind myself before I go in that I have a deadline or a time constraint (psh, as if I'd really recognize that), I still act like I have all the time in the world.

Why do some people have an innate sense of time and others don't? Now that I mention it, how did it get to be 11:30 pm now? I was just eating dinner with Steve a minute ago!

How can I wile away the hours conferring with the flowers and consulting with the rain, yet it takes for-ev-er for vacation to get here? Then when it does, why is it over in a blink, no matter what I do or how much I pack into it?

How can a life of four score years and 10 seem so short yet three years seems so long, unending and unendurable?

Do we as humans just long to be outside of time like God is and to see time spread out like a landscape in front of us like Scientific American says time is arranged with past, present and future mashed in together, losing their separate meaning? In eternity, will we have a sense of time or will we forget how old we've gotten? Will it matter? And if it doesn't matter then, why does it matter so much now?

Monticello

I didn't grow up around here. I grew up in Ft. Lauderdale, FL, for at least what I call my formative years--grades 3 through 6. We took field trips to Vizcaya and Henry Flagler's home, two of Florida's prominent citizens. My Mom took me to Walt Disney World for vacations. We hung out in the pool and at Pompano Beach. By the time I moved back up to Maryland, (I did spend 1st and 2nd grade in MD, but we were learning readin', writin', and 'rimetic so had no time for history.) I was in jr. high and high school and supposedly we had visited all the historical landmarks around Washington, DC. Consequently, I never visited Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's home.

When Steve heard that I'd never made the pilgrimage to Charlottesville, VA, he wanted to take me. He went on and on about how cool Monticello was and that even as a young boy, he was fascinated. In 16 years of marriage, we'd never gone though. Other vacation meccas had always lured us away with their siren songs. Our cross country adventure trip changed all that. We would make Monticello our last stop before our abrupt bump back into work from vacation.

Since they were the last nights we'd spend "on the road", I wanted to stay at a posh hotel. Steve let me choose the Omni hotel, downtown near the pedestrian mall. Posh it was! We availed ourselves of the pool and the hot tub. We walked down the pedestrian mall trying to decide which of the myriad delights we'd eat for dinner. We chose a Mediterranean restaurant, Bashir's Tavern. Yummy! Next morning, we got up early (for us) and headed to Monticello.

Lunch was our first order of business after picking up our tickets. We tried the snack bar at the Visitor's Center. Not bad. As we were eating, we recognized a couple of our fellow visitors, the Stewart's and the Palmer's from our church. We enjoyed visiting with them, and they helped ease the transition from vacationing with strangers (mostly) to arriving back home to friends.

We had some time to poke around the Visitor's Center before our tour time at the house. We watched the introductory film, Thomas Jefferson's World, as an orientation. We were fascinated by the exhibit, Thomas Jefferson and the Boisterous Sea of Liberty. It consisted of a wall of flat LCD screens and interactive stations. It explored Thomas Jefferson's ideas about liberty and their continuing influence today. Basically an era of Jefferson's life was highlighted on the screens which would generate streams of words. On one of the touch screens one only had to touch one of the words to open a text box explaining the importance of that word and defining it. After an allotted amount of time, the era would change, and a new batch of words would flow. We spent at least 3o to 45 minutes in this room alone. We wandered through the architecture exhibit and the exhibit highlighting Jefferson's experiments. At the appointed time, we boarded the bus that took us up to the house proper.

We were escorted through the rooms of Monticello, walking through the doors that opened together using a pulley system, looking at the day and time clock that was so tall a hole had to be cut into the floor to accommodate it, marveling at the beds that were standard bed size but seemed so much smaller due to being built into alcoves designed to conserve heat and space, allowing the rooms to be used for more than sleeping. Jefferson used mirrors to bring light into rooms, had a dumb waiter to bring food up from the cellar kitchens and used pocket doors to save space. I was thoroughly captivated!

After the house tour, we could explore the gardens and outbuildings on our own. We saw the kitchens, the servants (slave) quarters, bathrooms, wine cellars, and took an extremely interesting tour of the gardens. Our guide explained the various plant species that were cultivated from seeds that Thomas Jefferson had hybridized. She told us about Jefferson's experiments in plant growth and how his daughter had to make sure that at least part of the garden was planted with actual usable food. Jefferson was all about the experiments and observations. He wasn't concerned with such trivial matters as eating. Our guide also explained that the Jefferson foundation was trying to buy back more of the original land including the small mountain that Jefferson had intended to plant with grape vines. Why was his land sold off? Jefferson actually died bankrupt.

Jefferson's money troubles were more than just him caring about experiments more than practical matters. They were actually caused because he was a two term president, devoted to his country. In his time, the president was required to pay for all White House Staff salaries and supplies to run the household or have state dinners from what he received as his salary. Needless to say, he didn't make nearly enough to cover expenses. He took what needed from his own Monticello. His incurred debts should have been covered by what land and holdings that he had. Unfortunately for him and really because of him, as president, Jefferson had made the Louisiana Purchase. Suddenly, the United States had all sorts of land instead of being locked into the relatively narrow strip of the east coast. Jefferson's own land value plunged. He effectively bankrupted himself by expanding this country. Amazing devotion!

We left Monticello with our heads and hearts stuffed with facts and impressions of this great man and his home. Our own home was our next stop.

Long Beach, CA

While Steve attended the World Congress of NCMA (April 5 - 8, 2009), I explored Long Beach! I walked all around the town. I shopped in the little village across the street, buying a turquoise ring, a pink straw bag, an enamel tile wall hanging and some candy at a bulk candy store. I walked uptown to buy some shoes for our evening banquet and found them and a used bookstore. I also treated myself to a manicure.

Dinner that first night was a banquet at the Aquarium. Since evenings could still run to the chilly side, I knitted myself a rectangular shawl. I went to All About Yarn and asked them what pattern and yarn I could use to make a quick shawl. They suggested this lovely. thin yarn in black with a silver thread running through it. I knit it on big needles. I was almost finished with it. A morning's concerted effort of knitting in the room completed the project in the nick of time. With the black Barbie shoes I bought, I matched Steve's elegance in his long-sleeved shirt, dress slacks, jacket and tie. We started out near the sting ray tank with a cocktail party and then were escorted into the first floor of the aquarium. The food was pretty good, and all the contract people at the table were anticipating the speaker. Unfortunately, the acoustics in the room did not lend themselves to public speaking, and his words were distorted and unintelligible by the time they reached us in the back. We cut out to the awaiting buses while the party leaders were patting themselves on the back for a good year.

It wasn't all me by myself exploring though. Steve and I walked around together in the evenings and shared dinner with a couple of MD NCMA'ers at Gladstones a local seafood restaurant with a beautiful waterfront view. Before heading to Anaheim, we also ate with his co-workers from APL at Famous Dave's. Typical food but good fun seeing what everyone else was doing with the rest of their week's vacation.

The Road Less Traveled

Our dilemma was not nearly as deep as Robert Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken. We just had a Sunday free and no plan of what to do with it. I suggested driving further south to San Diego and exploring the city. Steve suggested an alternative. As a general rule he prefers looking at God's creation rather than man's so studying the California map, he found the Joshua Tree National Park. He's a huge U2 fan. Of course, he wanted to see the place that inspired their album title. I figured that I'd be with Steve so it didn't really matter where we went. Joshua Tree won the day.

The California landscape is so different from what we have back East. Snow-capped mountains or just really huge weird shaped hills. Desert! Cliffs dropping straight into the ocean. Gargantuan, three-bladed windmills. Palm trees. We loved the drive, alone with our thoughts since the wind from the topless convertible blew our words out of our mouths. At one point, we needed gas. I suggested Palm Springs. I'd grown up hearing about Bing Crosby and Walt Disney and Rock Hudson and all the rest of that era's movie stars heading to Palm Springs to do whatever it is movie stars do on vacation. Steve agreed to this detour. We stopped at the Visitor's Center, got some brochures, cruised the town, fed the car and fed us (at the In and Out Burger--fast food is also different in CA). After that, a couple more stretches of desolate road and a couple more hills, and we were there. We checked out the Visitor's Center, reading about the indigenous flora and fauna. We drove Park Boulevard all the way down to Keys View where we saw into Mexico and viewed the ominous San Andreas Fault, sitting there quietly in the sun. Then we followed it back around past huge piles of rock and the ubiquitous Joshua trees, arms sprouting weirdly in all directions. Relaxed and filled, we headed back to Long Beach, much better off for the road we took.

And unlike the poet who never made it back to try that other road, we'll just have to plan another trip to California that includes San Diego.

Sweet Ride!

We hadn't planned on getting a car. Not really. At least not the kind that APL was willing to pay for. We didn't see much point in driving around Cali. in an economy car. Disappointed, Steve said we'd just take the bus. The BUS! In a car-driven (pardon the pun) society like California? Sigh!

I didn't give up. I kept surfing the APL-approved rental sites every so often. Lo and behold, one fine day, a special! We could rent a convertible for the cost of an economy car! I snapped it up!

Fast forward to our trip. We flew into LAX, caught the bus to the rental place, stood in line and waited and waited and waited some more. Everybody had a reservation for a convertible it seemed. Would there be enough? We waited so long the manager offered us a free day's rental. Sweet! Out came our car. It wasn't a convertible. Not sweet! The manger realized her mistake and then offered us an upgrade. "How about a Mustang convertible?" she said. Sweet yet again! Steve who thought he was going to have to travel by bus now had the cruising car of a lifetime. And we kept the top down pretty much exclusively despite highs only in the 60's. We just turned on the heat. Heaven on earth!

Thank You, NCMA!

Have you ever stayed in a Hyatt hotel? They are posh, boy! The lobby is swathed in marble and luxe fabrics with modern art everywhere. The rooms are plush with down-filled duvets and king-sized beds and flat screen tv's and marble bathrooms. Did we have to pay one red cent for this gorgeous place? No, we did not! Steve's work paid! Because Steve was going to be the president of his local NCMA (National Contract Management Association) chapter, it behooved his work to send him. Yippee skippee! Thanks, NCMA and JHU-APL! We stayed there three days and loved it!