Things That Make Me Happy (8)

Sunday afternoon. I was hot and tired.

I have had this red cabbage in the fridge for too long now, and have always wanted to use it up but don't really like the texture and the taste of it. Can't stir fry it because it will turn into the world's ugliest color -- so ugly there is no name for it. It's not brown, and it's not gray. Horrible color.

I stood in the kitchen, thinking...

A few minutes later, this beautiful drink not only drenched my thirst, it made me so happy! The beautiful color is the highlight of my day. Praise the Lord for colors!

1/4 of a solid red cabbage, 1/2 of an almost-want-to-throw-away dead ripe banana, 1/2 peach from yesterday, 16 red grapes, 1/2 jumbo cucumber, 1/2 cup of water, 2 cups of ice cubes.

Life is good.

Feeling Unhappy

Feeling unhappy is a strange thing.

For two days now, I have been feeling unhappy. I notice the mood change after I had the phone conversation with her. She told me how she ran into John and shared with me what they talked about.

The strange thing was, I started to feel unhappy but didn't know for what. I allowed myself sometime to experience what I thought was going to be sadness, and because I was just about to go to bed when she called, I thought I would cry a little and then fell asleep. That was not what happened. I didn't cry. But I was unhappy. So it must not be sadness I felt. When people are sad, they want to cry.

For two days now, I am still unhappy. Still don't know why. I am amazed at human's capacity for self deception. The reason(s) for my unhappiness remained hidden from me and as much as spend quiet time with myself, praying and reflecting and searching, I still was not clear. Some hints, but not clear.

Being the way I am, this has become a more interesting, than distressing phenomenon for me.

Then I was reminded of this verse : "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God." (Psalms 42: 5)

Wanting to know has been characteristic of me. Knowledge about why things are and why people are the way they are and why I am the way I am has always attracted me. I am curious; I want to know. I want to know so I can make good decisions, and I want to know so things make sense to me. The problem is, there are things I don't know, and most times knowing doesn't do much at all in terms of help me love better, which is the epitome of God's commands.

Putting my hope in God needs to be a constant effort. The opposite of unhappy is not happy. It is the ability to look upward to Him. It is the commitment to move forward with him and not stuck in the present, or the past. It is the will to go to work, take care of myself, stay connected with friends and family, trusting that feelings come and go, but He doesn't change and He is a good God.

New Found Voice

I have always believed people can change, but it was not until yesterday did I pay attention to an important link in the process of changing. Effort. The awareness of the need for change, and the willingness to change are all important before any changes can take place. But without effort to work it, change will remain a sweet dream at best.

Several of my girlfriends have told me, at different times, that I needed a voice of my own. After years of being mute, I didn't know I had a voice, and as I am beginning to hear my own inner voice, to make it audible takes effort. I need to know how to voice it.

The kitchen remodeling is nearing its end. It has been agony for me. It's about what I want for my kitchen and it's about making things happen for me, and it's about asking people (project manager and workers) and sometimes demanding them to work for me and me alone. All is new to me. The last thing, after one month working on the inside, is to finish the outside window trim. A new window was put in, but it still needs frame. I needed to tell the project manager I wanted the window "restored" to pre-installation condition, i.e., where there used to be wood trim, after the new window was put in, the wood trim should be put back. Legitimate request, I think.

It took me thirty minutes to rehearse my lines before I called the project manager this morning. I heard my voice inside of me, but I needed words to communicate it to him. I remember scrambling words in my head, strike them, re-phrase, strike them, re-phrase. To my surprise, my main concern was to not offend him, as if I was being unreasonable, almost like a whining child, and I was afraid that if I upset him, he would not give me what I wanted. For the most part of my life, I think that's how I have "operated."

After much rehearsing, I called. I was hoping he would not pick up, and I would just leave a message, reciting from memory what I had been rehearsing til that point of time. He answered. My heart thumped but I heard my own voice. He had no qualms about it at all and it was done. I did not upset him and I got what I wanted.

But maybe I was just lucky. What if he did get upset because to do it as I wanted meant more work, and therefore less profit, for him and his company. If he would have given me a hard time, would I have backed off? There is no way to know. I know I can be very easily harassed and intimidated and bullied. My voice sounds to me like a little beep. A disagreeable look, a hum and a hem could easily silence me.

I used to be my daddy's little girl. And a good girl I was. A good girl never disagrees. She needs not to have her own voice. Or so some daddies think. My dad loved me, but he didn't allow me to have my own voice.

My heavenly father gives me a voice and wants to hear me. He also gives me opportunities to practice using my voice so I can hear it too. He is giving me back my lost voice; He is giving me back the lost me. For that, I give thanks.