Cross-eyed Cutie

I accompanied my slender, four-legged little friend for his regular pedi/manicure treatments on this lovely Friday afternoon.

Upon entering the salon (aka Petsmart), the overly energetic welcomer commented on Silas' perky and peculiar ears as we trotted our way across the tiled floor to register for his appointment.

Following his ordeal with the salonist which always includes trembling, panting and attempted escapes (by Silas!); we sauntered through the aisles, grabbed a few forgive-me-snacks and made our way to the cashier.

The welcome-girl-turned-cashier smiled innocently and asked if all greyhounds' eyes were set like Silas'. Expecting another positive remark about my handsome companion, I replied 'Yes". To which she remarked, "It's very strange, he's like a cross-eyed cutie."

And how does one respond to that?!

Portrait of an ESFJ

A while back a new friend suggested I take one of these Personality Tests. I actually took it a few times, because I doubt that answering a few questions can bring about a summation of my personality - but lo, it hath! (Kinda. Some mysteries will remain, to be sure!)

It's a lot to read, but if you find yourself bored some late night, take a gander and you'll actually learn a bit about me - for good or bad!

ESFJ

Re-Centering

12 very formative years of mine were spent sitting in poorly heated (or extremely humid!) classrooms, waiting on steps and running around in the tiny gym of this little red brick building.
On a recent trip to Holland, Michigan, I chose to return to this little school on Plasman Avenue after many years. I sat on the steps and wandered around the fenced in playground. I allowed a myriad of memories to wash over and flood through me as I remembered year-by-year and classroom-by-classroom. I recalled friends, teachers, coaches and pastors. I remembered choir rehearsals, sports games, chapels and study halls. Laughter, sorrow, fear, accomplishment, anger, gratitude and regret walked with me through these memories.

I had no agenda in this visit. I just sat. I just remembered. I just re-centered. I surveyed my current life and the recent events which brought me to this place. I traced the years backwards to the day I left those school corridors for good, what carried me from there and now what took me back.

It's an incredible story. It's a lovely story. It's a bumpy story. It's my story. I don't want to lose it. I fear moving on too quickly and forgetting each important chapter with each particular character and event. My passions and motivations and dreams are still alive, but easily get lost in the melee of the adult world. But sitting on the steps of this old brick building set in West Michigan, the ghosts of school days passed whispered messages of refreshment and refocus.

IMPORTANT NOTE: This Calvary building is now only an elementary school, though during my years it was kindergarten through 12th grade - lest you think it took me 12 years to get through my first six years of schooling!!!

On Relocation and Dislocation

"What human language captures the dislocation, the acute insufficiency of being in the presence of the superorganism [America], the sinking, shrinking feeling at this display of industrial steel and light and might? It was as if nothing I'd ever done in life prior to this counted. As if my past life was revealed to be a waste, a gesture in slow motion, because what I considered scarce and precious was in fact plentiful and cheap, and what I counted as rapid progress turned out to be glacially slow."

This excerpt is taken from a novel by Abraham Verghese, "Cutting for Stone". At this point Dr. Marion Stone is reflecting on his forced exodus from of his home country and relocation to the United States. I was struck by how in the last year I've often resonated with Marion's words, but never quite knew that this was the voice behind my emotion.

However, simultaneously a wise friend once told me that she believed every experience, every relationship, every trial and every joy will come full circle to deepen our understanding of life and broaden our perspective on others and God's working therein.

Though I may feel lost in this superorganism at times, I believe my years in Europe, my education and my experience will come together and unveil a Master weaver of these threads. Until then, I wait and believe and work and pray.