newsong (newsong) wrote,

Roots and Grafts

What if I want to be the one who
Doesn't look like anybody
What if I want to be the one who
goes her own way
Would you still believe in someone like me?

In the past month I've been travelling through several cities for work and friendship, I've shot a session I was looking forward to for almost three years, I've babysat adorable children, and I've packed more boxes than I care to remember. I've learned about DISC personality profiling and yet again been in the minority, and Paul has confirmed as I've long suspected that I actually am very unique and there's not much to compare my life to others. I am finally finding that the group of people I belong to the most are entrepreneurs, and that's a great discovery. I am on my way to feeling peace on that subject. This month I've been there for a friend in their darkest and hardest moments, and I've forged new relationships from chance meetings at networking events. I've snapped my fingers in deep agreement with beat poetry, and questioned how we in microsocieties deal with the "unacceptable" ideas of the world. I've appreciated the fine falling of new snow in spring, I've been offended, I've cried from the emotional pain of the past and how it affects my today, and I've loved deeply, wondering in awe of how love grows between two people as time allows.

A sleepy dog lies beside me this morning, confused by the uproar of boxes, the general pace of change, the deep unrooting of moving. His questioning eyes mirror my questing heart.

I feel this vast uprooting of moving in my soul, and even though I can't say I'll miss much about living here, I need to give myself credit for the difficulty of uprooting from any ground. I am a pilgrim on a journey from the southwest to the northeast of a big city. The things that were inconvenient are becoming more convenient, the things that were close are becoming a 45 minute drive away. For some I become easier to see, for others, harder. I am waiting for the promised land of a beautiful kitchen, an office with a picture window and room for a dog, and bedrooms for the children we await - our adoptive children who are already alive, going to school, playing and building a personality day by day. I think of them often these days, and await their arrival in my home with joy. This home that we move to in two days is the place we will build a bigger family, by grafts like a fruit tree. Did you know that you can graft one tree to another and see fruit thrive? I feel like adoption is like that. I can't wait to graft new branches on to our family tree. I look forward to providing a home full of laughter, good food, board games, nerdy television, and hugs, and wise counsel when life requires it - and silent support when wise counsel falls on deaf ears, as it is wont to do in puberty...

The wait, in some ways, is over. It's a huge milestone, and the fact that I feel that in my gut, the fact that I haven't had a true binge for over a month now since my life-changing business mindset class in Calgary is a sign to me of a lot of areas of healing. I am uncovering hurts and unsupportive hampster wheels that turned in the back of my head and selling them for scrap metal and freeing those hampsters to the wide world. It's dangerous out there, but what creature doesn't seek freedom, even at the cost of the predators and fierce weather patterns? I would rather be free than safe. Freedom is costly.

As we come to the end of Lent, I have been meditating on one of my favourite songs for Easter, Jon Foreman's Revenge, from the perspective of the the thief on the cross - and of all of us at our worst.

So I stopped for a moment to look at the Son
Dying today
Thats when the irony hit me
That this was revenge
That love had descended and stolen our pain away
We consumed heaven's Son
I drew first blood, I drew first blood
My hate was undone
I drew first blood, I drew first blood
Revenge, revenge

I am reminded as I listen of what's so amazing about grace - that it isn't about fairness. The world demands fairness, but at it's heart another of my favourite lyrics says it best: the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair. It is this glorious unfairness that Easter celebrates, and as Good Friday approaches I continue to meditate on the goodness of a God who experienced everything we have, even the worst kind of death a human being could conceive of, and who has given us a way to transform suffering to beauty, to use it for becoming holy. It's a good meditation, and I continue to ponder it in my quiet moments between the chaos of moving and work. I am moving towards something so much greater. Thank you for joining me on the journey.

So after all that outpouring of poetry, I will briefly cover things that actually happened, more for my own record-keeping than anything. I went to Regina to visit a friend whom I hadn't seen for ages, and playing with her dogs and generally sitting about and chatting - as well as eating delicious food from great restaraunts - was a highlight of the trip. I presented about owning my own business to a bunch of pre-teen Girl Guides, and learned some fun campfire songs. I finally got around to shooting that amazing powder session I've been looking forward to for ages, so that was a creative success. We babysat for our new landlords, and their kids are awesome. I drew custom robots for them, which was fun, and twirled them around the room. A very sweaty Paul playing airplane with children responded to cries of "Again! Again!" with looking at me in exhaustion and saying, "I am so out of shape!" which was adorable. There are a ton of amazing things that happened this month, both in personal and business life, but I am in dire need of a breakfast sandwich, some sharpies, and plastic dinnerware before the big push for moving gets underway when my mother-in-law breezes in today, so it's time for me to sign off for now. See you on the flip side from different digs.
Tags: #themed posts, adoption, bed, easter, good friday, grace, life, make your mark, music, poetic

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