Today was my first day at my new job. I slept not well. I was extremely stressed. I don't like it about me that I stress so much over stuff like this. I wish I could sail through life smoothly, untroubled by the ups and downs of normal living.

However, the first day went well enough: the usual reading papers, signing things, being given information. The job doesn't appear to be anything I can't handle competently. The people are pleasant and nice.

I realize I am going through a bit of a grieving phase for freelancing. Things I love about freelancing: the ability to stay in my home. To go out when I choose. To stay up till 2am. To control my own schedule. To determine how I dress. When I dress. Large patches of free time to muddle with photos and IM friends. The sweetness of unstructured time.

When you work a job, your time is owned. 9-5 Monday through Friday, plus commuting time, plus when you run your errands and when you go to bed are all owned and controlled by the company you work for. No longer can I travel when I want: I have two weeks' vacation time in a year. And there's a myriad of other things: I have to admit to a bit of a rebellious interior "hmph" when I discovered today that my company blocks Facebook.

But it's a tradeoff: what I don't love about freelancing, or at least the way it's worked for me, is the insufficient paycheque and the uncertainty of when and how much you're paid. It works just fine if it's only my own normal expenses: however, the mountain of debt I've accrued through unpredictable circumstances is enough motivation for me to take on the yoke of full-time employment.

And, I know this is what God wants. For now, for me, that's enough. And discipline imposed from the exterior is not at all a bad thing: after all, Jesus is Lord and Master. Submitting our life to his control doesn't exclude and in fact usually includes doing so to the "master", or employer, he's given us. After all, as the New Testament says somewhere I'm too lazy to look up right now, I'm working for him, not them. I know this job is a gift from God, and I am thankful. I'll adjust, and I know, find joy in it.

Last night, I went to the Royal Ontario Museum. The ROM, as it's known (pronounced like "bomb"), is and always has been one of my very favourite Toronto destinations.

Back when I was a student, admission on Friday nights was free. These days, to my grudging surprise, it's half-price. I suppose it's because they have to pay for their fancy-pants new crystal addition:

"The ROM at Night: a thing of brave beauty?" by Flickr user livinginacity

Which, I have to admit, looks amazing, despite causing a hike in Friday night's prices.

I was feeling bored and restless last night and in need of a change of scene. I didn't feel like sitting home by myself trying to work and getting distracted by the internet. Thankfully, the ROM is only about a 15 minutes' walk away. And even though I didn't really have the $10 admission fee, I went anyway.

The dinosaurs weren't available last time I was there, because they were being put into their new home in the crystal. Now they've finished assembling all their bones, so I spent the good part of my evening wandering around marveling at things like chasmosaurus:

"Chasmosaurus" by Flickr user PhylG

Which looks much more impressive in person, I assure you.

And glyptodon, which is my new favourite extinct animal:

(Image courtesy Wikipedia.

He's a mammal. He's in the armadillo family. He's much larger than he looks in this photo. Glyptodon's Wikipedia page has this to say about him: "Flatter than a Volkswagen Beetle, but about the same general size and weight, the Glyptodon is believed to have been an herbivore...."

I want one. If I had one, I would keep him in the garage and call him George.

And, there was my now second-favourite extinct animal, the giant ground sloth:

(Image courtesy Wikipedia)

He's also much larger than he looks in this photo.

I left much cheered up. Seriously, how could you not when things like this used to roam the earth? I like God for being this creative.

A year ago today, I lost a friend.

I still remember.

Following Jesus is hard. There are reasons why it is called “the narrow way”, as contrasted to “the broad way”.

Following Jesus involves saying no to our feelings. It involves picking up our cross, dying daily, and following him. It involves saying “no” to our wants and desires, and saying “yes” to his.

It is about believing that he alone can satisfy us, against all the evidence of our screaming flesh.

It is about saying “no” to and walking away from the things that our flesh thinks will make it happy, and choosing to allow God to fill those empty spaces, even if we don’t know how he will. Even if it seems to take him a long time to do so, or even if it looks like he’s not going to.

It’s about stepping into the things he is calling us to, even if it involves great personal cost and pain. It is about following him no matter what, in the good times and the bad. It is about having the courage to step into a place of calling, even if it means turning our back on what once would have meant everything to us.

If we’re single, it means saying “no” to the desires for sexual intimacy and deep emotional companionship at the price of giving ourselves too much to someone to whom we don’t belong. It means crying out to God to satisfy us, even if part of that involves him sending us a mate.

It means speaking the truth to another in love to help his growth, even if he gets angry with us and doesn’t speak to us or retaliates in other ways. It means accepting the fallout from another’s actions and working together to pick up the pieces (not, however, enabling the behaviour).

It means believing the truth ourselves, and speaking it to us when we can’t believe it, no matter what we would like to think otherwise. It means saying “no” to fantasy and lies.

It means being willing to be seen as the one in the wrong, even if we aren’t. It means being willing to humble ourselves, even if we don’t have to. It means humbling ourselves when we HAVE done wrong. It means giving up our lives so that others can live.

It means being willing to bear the shame of Jesus before the world and accept the hatred that they will heap upon us as his followers.

It means giving up your life, even to death.

Who will follow him? It is hard.

I went back to the States this weekend for my sister's wedding shower. Wedding showers are normally something I loathe and despise and avoid like the plague, but this is my sister. So I went, enjoyed the short time I got to hang out with her around the shower, and enjoyed the shower for her sake. Particularly because I got to be the photographer and not take part in the games. There's nothing wrong with wedding showers per se, it's just "too much estrogen in one room", as I like to say.

I also got some exciting photos of dead fish. Very exciting photos of dead fish. We went for a walk along a pier on the lake and it was scattered with small, dead, dried and/or bloated, blackened dead fish. We were puzzled. We were mystified. We were mildly horrified. But, it made for a great photographic subject. I shall post the best one or two on Flickr for you to...enjoy.

And lest this post be simply frivolous, I add that I read a book this weekend that I believe everyone should read. OK, that's a sweeping statement, but I believe it.

I started out by reading Boundaries in Dating by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. I don't date, but it is applicable to any romantic relationship, with principles also applicable to any relationship, period. I found myself wanting to read their seminal work, Boundaries. Voila, my wish was granted this weekend as my sister lent me her copy. I finished it on the bus on the way home, and let me say, it is revolutionary. It will change the way you think, the way you view life, and the way you view relationships. I feel I have grown about ten feet tall from it, and I will be recommending it to many people. I also hope to review it in detail here someday, once my first loanee friend finishes it. Summary: get it, read it.

A few people pointed out to me that I hadn't actually made clear what my new job is.

It's website content coordinator for a Canadian company's Toronto office. This involves maintaining and updating their websites and managing their email newsletters. It will include HTML, image processing, email list management, and SQL databases. It will be heavy on proofreading, which is one of my strongest skills.

The whole thing has the smell of God about it. Several financial crises lately led me to become seriously desperate. I cried out to God, saying, "You have to do SOMETHING," and started job hunting. Freelancing has been wonderful, and I've done it for over a year, but the bottom line is that it's not meeting my needs.

This job posting immediately stood out when I saw it online. It fits exactly with my interests and experience, and is very similar to a job I held for a year in the States, a job I still consider almost ideal.

The interview went well, and I had a very positive feel about the office and the people. The commute is around 40 minutes by public transit. The salary will allow me to meet my needs and, God willing, pay off my debts within a year. I'm happy and excited and resigned to going back to the 9-5 office world, which has its own advantages. I will probably continue freelancing on the side, though I will have to limit the amount of work I accept.

I know it's God, so for now, I am content.

The job I interviewed for last week called me yesterday to say I got it. Deeply grateful to God. I really was at a point of desperation, and I cried out to him. Just another lesson in trust: he never fails to come through.

The job starts in two weeks' time; that should give me enough space to get some things out of the way before I resume full time employment.

Other things to write about, but they will have to wait.

Loneliness creates probably the greatest and most devastating hole in the soul of man. Ever since God made us in his image and declared, "It is not good for man to be alone," we were primed to live in perfect intimacy with him and one another. Ever since Adam sinned and the world tumbled into fall, we were doomed to face the pain of loneliness, isolation, alienation.

There are other pains, to be sure; but all of them result in loneliness. Our sin or the sin of others puts walls, barriers, miles of barren terrible wilderness between us and people and us and God. We exist inside our own little hideaway, hoping and wanting and wishing for someone to see us, someone to love us as we are, someone to exist with so we will not have to be alone.

Some loneliness is simply a result of this broken world. Some of it is by choice. Some of it is a result of the evil done by us or to us.

All of it hurts. All of it ends up the same way: distance.

Even those with close friends or a spouse can end up lonely. Loneliness isn't a disease only the single or exiles catch. Sometimes people have a thousand "friends" but not one of them sees them for who they are. You can be in a crowd, it's often said, and be lonelier than those who are alone.

Of course it was not meant to be. In an ideal world, we'd live with perfect closeness between us and God and our fellow man.

In an imperfect world, loneliness can become a pain that forces us to God. I once had a prophetic word that my loneliness had hemmed me in to God, because I had no one else. Truer word never spoken. But it comes at the price of terrible pain.

In an imperfect world, we seek to assuage the terrible, sucking, horrible, emptiness of isolation in many ways. The things we do numb us to protect us from the pain, whatever they are. It could be drugs, it could be surfing the internet endlessly. It could be reaching out and dialing that number when you know you shouldn't. It could be going out to clubs to seek someone to spend the night with, just for the temporary, deceitful feel of love that leaves us emptier than before. Because facing the barren, naked pain with nothing between it and us is unthinkable, it would destroy us.

We have to learn the hard way to go to God. We have to learn the hard way not to give into the powerful, all-encompassing scream to do whatever it is that will give us a few more minutes of peace, shut up the barking dog for a little while. We have to fight against the undertow that will suck us out to sea, into oblivion and into greater hurt. We have to face it, and cry out to Jesus.

That is not as cliched as it sounds. For I've had to do it. Time and time again, when loneliness bites and gnaws like an animal that will destroy me, I've had to identify it, face it, stare it down, resist its urges, and recognize a time to turn to God. If I ignore it and him, I miss an opportunity to learn his love. If I don't take his hand and walk with him through the valley of the shadow of loneliness, I become a shallower and emptier and colder person.

When I cry out to him, he meets me. When I cry out to him, allow him to wrap his arms around me, ask his Spirit to fill me, he does. It comes at the price of terrible pain, I told you. But the result is worth it. It's intimacy with God. I wouldn't, at this point in my life, choose to go back on all the pain. Even though right at this moment, if I could, I'd dodge and duck the pain I'm feeling.

He knows better. Loneliness is a gift. It's not one I would have chosen, but if I walk alone and it allows me to know him and to love others better, I guess, it's worth it.

I don't normally like to use this blog too much for personal updates, but I realize occasionally it's OK. So here goes, in totally random order:

1. God gave me a dresser. This sounds very silly, but it's true. I went out for a run the other night and walked up my street to cool down. Just a few doors up from me, a very large dresser with two missing handles but four working drawers was sitting on the sidewalk. I immediately pounced on it.

When I first moved here, I didn't have a dresser. Some friends from church kindly gave me one, but it was really too small, though it has worked in the meantime. This one is adequately large, if ugly. To boot, my new housemate needed a dresser, so the old one did just perfectly for her!

2. Financial issues have been proving massively stressful lately. It feels like I'm on a downhill slope, sliding further down, and receiving deathblows along the way (mixed metaphors, I know, but there you are).

I've come to the conclusion that freelancing is not working out right now, despite my best efforts, and have been job-hunting. Much as I hate the regimentation of a 9-to-5, sometimes you have to do what you have to do, and even free spirits need discipline.

The good news is that I have an interview with a job that looks really promising, later this week. I'll keep you posted.

3. I have seen God's provision for others; my new housemate, Sara, who just moved from New Brunswick, got a job within one week. So hooray for jobs!

4. Lots of crazy and wonderful things are happening with the group in Montreal. God seems to be moving and working and bringing things and people together in marvelous ways. My pastor, Chris, will be traveling there in a couple of weeks, along with me and a couple of other people from the church. So I'm looking forward to that.

I think in large part the financial situation is forcing me, again, to trust in God and to cry out to him for what I need. It was getting me seriously depressed, until I felt convicted about that: stress and worry aren't glorifying to God or useful to us. I know he'll come through, quite how remains to be seen; but he has always proven faithful in the past and I have his promise for the future.

A friend gave me this book with a high recommendation. I have to admit, not skepticism, but uncertainty about what to expect.

However, it was so incredibly excellent that not only could I barely put it down, I'm going to be lending it out and recommending it to others.

Steven Tracy is remarkably insightful, adept at understanding the mechanics and effects of abuse, and sympathetic to the abused. The book paints a portrait of what abuse looks like, its effects on the soul, and the path to healing.

The book's outline is as follows:

Part 1: The Nature of Abuse

1. A Wake-up Call Regarding the Extent and Power of Abuse
2. Abuse as a Perversion of the Image of God
3. Profiles of Abusers
4. Portrait of an Abusive Family

Part 2: The Effects of Abuse

5. Shame
6. Powerlessness and Deadness
7. Isolation

Part 3: The Healing Path

8. Facing the Brokenness
9. Rebuilding Intimacy with God
10. Forgiveness

There are also several appendices with much useful information, e.g. a sample child protection policy for a church; and warning signs of potential abusers (which I found particularly useful).

Part 1 stresses that abuse is rampant and wide-spread, and why it is so damaging: it perverts the image of God. It presents characteristics of abusers and characteristics of abusive families. It makes the very important point that often abusers, or abusive families, do not look so from the outside.

Part 2 covers the effects of abuse on the soul of the victim, under three categories: shame, powerlessness and deadness, and isolation. All of these deal with the way that we view ourselves, and our relationships with others. This was the part that I started to find really hitting home and will prove incredibly helpful to anyone suffering the effects of abuse, even years after the fact.

Part 3 presents the path to healing. Chapter 8, "Facing the Brokenness" makes the point that we must fully acknowledge the abuse and its effects on us before we can begin to heal. Otherwise we will remain locked in shame, powerlessness and deadness, and isolation; and even perpetrate the abuse on others.

The bit of this section that I found most helpful was a chart that Tracy presents on page 141, "A Healing Model". It traces the path to healing, from the characteristics of someone who has not yet begun (e.g. emotionally numb, hides past, self-righteous and judgmental) through the stages of healing to someone who is reconnecting healthily with God and with others (emotionally open, authentic, honest with God and others, etc). This one chart, to me, is worth the price of the book itself.

Tracy then moves on to rebuilding intimacy with God, which offers joyful hope without easy, "bandage" solutions; and forgiveness, which thoughtfully clarifies what forgiveness is and what it isn't. It's not cheap grace and it's not denial of the wrong done; it may and usually does involve setting boundaries between ourself and the abuser, but it is necessary for true healing.

The only part of the book I found somewhat redundant at times were his biblical examples; Tracy uses Bible stories to illustrate the dynamics of abuse. This sometimes seems a bit forced, as if he felt that writing a book to a Christian audience necessitated using biblical examples. Nevertheless, it is insightful, particularly, I found, his analysis of the story of Amnon and Tamar (2 Samuel 13:1-22).

In short, this book is an excellent, well-thought-out, very insightful resource for anyone who has gone through abuse, or who is seeking to help the abused. It presents a Christian perspective without legalism, judgment, or easy answers, and offers real hope and help. I'd wholeheartedly recommend it.

Listening is one of the most important relational skills that we have. Together with sympathetic understanding and non-judgementalism, it's perhaps the most powerful skill we can hone.

I used to wonder, why is that? What is it about another human being intently listening to us, understanding us, and sympathizing with us, that creates so much healing? After all, they're not doing anything "tangible" to help us, or even changing our situation.

I still don't have all the answers to that, but I think a huge part of it is that listening in this way creates a connection. Genuine caring on the part of one human to another causes a bond between two people that opens the doorway for powerful healing. Whether or not you believe in God, that's true.

We are made in the image of God. We are made for relationship. We are made for connection with him, and with other humans. When another listens to us in this way, or we listen to them, we are creating a relational connection that goes beyond the surface and sees right to the heart of that human being. It says, "I know you. I care. And it's ok."

It's powerful. That's why I think we need to cultivate it. Learn to listen, learn to see, learn to care. It will be used in amazing ways to bring freedom and release from deep-held pain for many people.