The Rain of Forgiveness

Recently the sky has looked like it was going to rain. I mean the sky looks pregnant with rain, and is seconds away from giving birth and ... and… and nothing. It is as though the sky is taunting us. Showing us something we need but can’t have.

Now when it comes down to it, I am a southern California girl through and through. I enjoy my fair share of rain, but I am not one of those people who claim to LOVE rain, who get all dramatic when the sky turns grey and act as though it is the perfect time to run outdoors and frolic in a field. But rather, I am one of those folks who enjoys the smell of wet asphalt, that nostalgic smell that recalls days in grammar school playing dodge ball during recess, I breath in that familiar smell and smile, and there might even be the slightest bounce in my step for those 60 seconds it takes me to walk from my work building to my car. And that’s all I need. 60 seconds.

I much rather observe the rain from indoors, nice and dry. I might open a window or sit under a covered awning to take in the scents that only come when it rains. Those smells that comfort you and reassure that mother nature is cleaning house and taking care of you in the process.

Now maybe this last metaphor is best understood by those of us who have lived in southern California. Those of us who have see the sky in a brownish tint. We, who have scanned the horizon and witnessed some of God’s magnificent design in nature and have understood the desire of many Americans to migrate to sunny southern California, only to have the glory of this place marred by the inches and inches of brown haze looming over our cities, even hiding our hills and mountains, as if to say “How mighty are you really?”

Oh that damn smog! I don’t know why, but it seems like this year more than any other, I have noticed it. I am sure it has always been there. But I never paid attention. For some reason God has opened my eyes to it and it makes me sad. And I feel guilty daily, as I make my 65 minute commute from home to work and back. Yes, I am carpooling, but I am still contributing to the smog. And there is no way out of it that I can see. It makes me sick. I must admit, every time I gaze at the horizon, I am tempted to hold my breath, and protect my lungs from that filth. I don’t take a breathe again until I look away; out of sight out of mind.

And I write all this to say, that recently it has looked like it is going to rain. And this year more than ever, I am yearning for that rain, that cleansing and forgiving rain. This is one of the worst droughts California has had in a while, and it is as if Earth knows it, and mother earth is withholding her forgiveness, waiting for us to wake up and realize how we are torturing the earth. This place where Christ walked, where God set foot upon, where God let the fullness of his imagination run wild. It’s as though she is waiting for a contrite and repentant spirit before she pours forgiveness and life down.

I want to make peace with the earth, but I feel so helpless. I want to be a good steward of this kingdom He left us, but I feel trapped in this capitalistic world. I cry, full of shame and guilt. Lord when you died, and you forgave us, did you forgive us of even this, the defilement of your land? May your GRACE stretch out even here, on this bit of soil I call home.

Life In a Fish Bowl

It has been more than a year since I have wanted to start this blog. It has also been more than a year since I began my life in corporate America. Ahh the good life...

I have decided to start a chain of entries about my observations, and experiences as an Administrative Assistant (that is, a secretary), and they will be titled "Life in a Fish Bowl".

"Why's that?" did you ask? Well, it is simple really. I am the admin. assistant, so I sit at the front of the office, I have no proper cubicle, and thus no semblance of privacy. Absolutely everything I do is visible to everyone. And all the looky-lous love it! Anything on my desk is fair game. Please feel free to pick up my personal items. I don't mind, really. No no, I wasn't in the middle of writing a personal email, go ahead and read from over my shoulder, in fact, why don't you just read it aloud so all can hear. And don't worry I hate the concept of personal space, in fact I love it when you come and rearrange the items on my desk. It's like my very own game of hide-n-seek. What fun!

And so it goes...my life up here at the receptionist desk is like a little fish in a fish bowl. No privacy, no personal space, crystal clear glass inviting the world to come and peer into everything I do because they have nothing better to do. Isn't it great!

Like the other day, I had a pile of mortgage industry newspapers on my desk. I was gathering them to send them to another department for a big-wig on another floor to read and pass on when he was threw with them, when a co-worker walks up to drop off some paperwork for me and notices a picture of GW on the front of one of the newspapers.

"Oh is this an old paper?" she says, seconds away from picking the paper up and taking it to her desk.

"No, it isn't a newspaper. It is a mortgage paper " I say half tempted to swat her hand away. Apparently she must have mistaken a newspaper on my desk as hers.

But I can understand, because everyone else in the office seems to confuse my stuff that is in my area as theirs all the time, and so it would make perfect sense to touch, grab and take whatever it is from my desk. Please, help yourself. Don't mind me. I'll just keep swimming around in my fish bowl...