I Said No!

I am fortunate that I love the career I have chosen to support my family.  I get to work with numbers all day, I get to meet with great people, and I get to give lots of free advice.  I'm a CA, and anyone who knows anything about accounting knows that this time of year gets stupidly busy.

Even though I love what I do, I've had a nagging feeling, or maybe a nagging from the Holy Spirit, that God has bigger plans for me in His kingdom, and while accounting is great to pay the bills, it's not serving His Purpose.  Of course, I'm still waiting for the dream in which I am hanging out with Jesus and he tells me, "Jo, your Purpose is......." - somehow I don't think that's going to happen.  What I do know is that every time I have accepted a new client in the past few months, a little voice says, "Do you really need another client?  Don't you have enough?  Where do I fit in if you become consumed with work?"  It seems as if there is a neverending supply of people out there who need accountants, and I was starting to worry that if I didn't start saying no to people, that I was going to become one of those accountants that I always complain about - accountants who don't have time to give great service, accountants who lose track of who their clients are, accountants who don't seem to care. 

I was also worried that work was going to start consuming my life again, like it did when I worked in the city, and I sure didn't want to relive that nightmare!

But last night, I received a phone call from someone who needed their taxes done, and without thinking, I just said, "Unfortunately, I've taken on all of the clients I can this year."  There!  Done!  No lightning bolts shot down from the sky, the house didn't rumble and shake, my head didn't explode, I just said no, and that's it.

I felt a little guilty afterwards, but then, driving to pick up Elizabeth from gymnastics, the message become loud and clear:  You will now have enough time for Me.  You will now have enough time for your Mission.  I have put certain people in your path to show you how much you can care.  Time to get to work.

I have lived too long in a life where work has defined me, where a new client feeds my ego (they want ME!), where work makes me feel important.  I still love what I do, but I do it to pay the bills, and there is so much more to be done. 

Wow God, you sure work in amazing ways!

Improvement

Since I'll probably (hopefully) look back at my yoga progress with chuckles, I thought I should comment on the improvement I noticed in my second Warm Yin Yoga class.  Last week our first pose was a wide-legged child's pose, knees apart towards the outsides of the mat, leaning forward with forehead down and arms stretched out.  I couldn't last the entire pose without bringing my knees together - it was to much for my hips to be in that wide pose for that long.

However, this past Sunday I managed to stay down in child's pose for the duration!  Near the end I had to employ some breathing techniques (thanks Joyce!), but I made it.  Joyce (my yoga instructor) also commented this morning that she can see my hips opening a bit....yay - I love to see progress!

Interestingly, since Joyce has been receiving complaints about her Yin poses, she didn't do any this morning, and I felt out of sorts for the entire hour.  There must be something about Yin that grounds me for the day....I'll have to look into that.  I've ordered a book on Yin - should go well with my Essential Ayurveda book.  Speaking of which, it's from that book that I found the best advice ever:

Do less
Be more

Warm Yoga

Everyone who knows me would agree that I am not a person who should be put in a hot climate.  I get fidgety, irritable, and downright cranky.  When friends are discussing their plans to go to Mexico or Cuba for a winter getaway, I just dream about going to the mountains and walking around in the crisp, cool air.  It should come as no surprise that this new craze known as "hot yoga" scares the bejeebers out of me! 

However, as is usual in my life, logic always triumphs over fear.  I am currently taking two yoga classes a week here in town, and long for the day when my body doesn't feel broken down.  My trainer told me the tales of her hot yoga experience, and while the thought of moving around in a room heated to 38-40 degrees is not my idea of a good time.....EVER, I thought that maybe the "warm yoga" (a mere 32-34 degrees) might be okay.  So my friend and I headed down the highway to a Sunday night Warm Yin Yoga class.

If I could sum it up in one word.....AMAZING.

And in a few words.....why didn't I start doing this years ago?

Our instructor had a voice like maple syrup - flowing, dreamy, calming.  Her postures were simple, yet effective, and very gentle.  The air was hot, but I found it comforting, almost like being wrapped in a warm blanket.  At the end, as everyone else was leaving, I just lay there, enjoying the silence and the heat.  The class went by too fast and I can't wait until the next one.

I came home so relaxed and slept very well.  I awoke at 5:15 feeling great and rolled out of bed for an am bootcamp-ish class.  If Jo from two years ago visited Jo today in a time machine, she would not believe what I am about to say.

I think I prefer the yoga class.

Yin Yoga

I am not a huge fan of yoga, but I am logical enough to know that there are huge benefits, especially for an aging body.  I am therefore taking two yoga classes a week, and last night was introduced to Yin Yoga.

Gak.

I don't know much about Yin Yoga, other than it is good for facsia and connective tissue, poses are held for a long time, and oh yes, one more thing.

IT HURTS.  A LOT.

I am writing this account in the hopes that I can look back on it in a year and chuckle, but I sure wasn't chuckling last night.  To start with, I couldn't even get my feet into the right position, the instructor had to come over and help me, so with her help I was able to get my legs in a contorted position.  Then she was expecting me to sit back.  My butt cheeks were supposed to be touching the floor.  I think the entire volume of the World Book Encyclopedia could have fit between my butt and the floor.  So she put yoga blocks underneath so I could somewhat sit.  Then she told me to lean forward.

I looked at her like she was crazy, and showed her that I wasn't able to lean forward.  She then pulled out a huge bolster that I had to rest my head on.  The whole time I was supposed to breathe, but I spent my time cursing my poor flexibility.  I felt like a big loser with my blocks and bolster while everyone else in the class was leaner forward, and yes, with butt cheeks on the floor.  Getting out of the position wasn't much easier.  And to top it all off my hips hurt when I woke up this morning.

However, I am determined that this Yin stuff will get easier each time I do it, and off I go tomorrow morning to try it again.  We'll see if it seems to be any better.

Somehow I doubt it will.

A.J.

AJ is a regular fixture at The Mustard Seed; he's a slight man, in his 50s, and is of middle eastern descent (his real name is long and somewhat unpronouncable, so AJ does the job just as well).  When I first met him, he always greeted me with a smile, saying, "God bless you" or "Thank you for looking after us."  He's told me a few snippets of his history - homelessness, drug addiction, a common story in the inner city, but he has had a home for the past eight years and is drug free, and he is not afraid to share that he owes everything to God.

What an example AJ is!

On Friday, not my usual night, but I felt like going downtown anyway, and I had a chance to speak to AJ behind the coffee bar - he was volunteering for the night.  He told me that he had a heart attack a number of years ago and was in God's presence, but he was sent back to Earth, and now feels that it is his job to tell everyone about our Lord.  He confessed that he has never learned how to read or write, but that all of his Biblical knowledge comes from the Holy Spirit.  I was amazed, because AJ can speak Truth as well as any literate church-goer that I've ever met. 

He then went on to explain how spiritually dead The Mustard Seed is, and how no one speaks of God, but he does, to anyone who will listen.  He doesn't do it to show off or appear knowledgeable - he does it because he truly believes God sent him back to spread the Good News.  It made me think of my actions when I am downtown - yes, I help, yes, I'm a "good person", but am I intentionally creating disciples?  Not really.  I can talk about God to those who ask, but that's not very often - it's those who don't ask who probably need to hear about God the most.

Yes, the church may be spiritually dead, but it only takes a bit of effort to bring God back into His house.  I'm going to follow the lead of a former drug addict, a former homeless man, a child of God, and spread the Word to those who need it most. 

We can't wait for a near death experience to decide that we need to spread the Word - time is of the essence.

One day He will wipe away every tear

I am not a crier, and on the rare occassion that I do cry, it is usually in a burst of rage or stress, and it is very short, and then it is over and I can move on with my day.  But today, a day that will live in infamy much like September 11, 2001 or April 20, 1999, the tears started the moment I heard the news and have continued throughout the day, to the point where I have no more tears left to give.

I cried for the little ones who headed out the door this morning, grabbing lunchkits and backpacks, kissing their moms goodbye for the last time.

I cried for the moms who were out shopping last night, out buying one last gift for their little one.

I cried for the dads who heard the news at work and rushed frantically to the school in search for their children.

I cried for the lego and Barbies that won't be opened on Christmas morning.

I cried for the teachers who were planning activities for the last week of school and looking forward to their Christmas vacation.

I cried for the mom whose last moments on Earth were left gazing at her son as he killed her.

I don't know why this tragedy has affected me so deeply - there have been other recent tragedies, and while sad, they haven't thrown me into a state of catatonic depression.  Maybe this was my "last straw", after being numbed by violence for so long, and they were just all bubbling below the surface, waiting to explode.

Can you imagine how God feels?

Tragedy after tragedy, not only gun violence, but human slavery, poverty, brutality, children dying in the streets of east Asian slums, building and building until we become numb to it all.  It's just too overwhelming.

But as I was sharing my grief with a friend, I remembered something that my sister once said:  You can't help everyone, but you can help one person at a time. 

And one of my Pastors, half way around the world, comforted me unknowningly with his Revelation quote.

Yes, one day He will wipe away every tear, but until then, we will cry for the lost, and provide hope to all that we can.  One person at a time.

Frogs and Muffins

First of all, I must say that there is no way that it's been over a month since I last posted!  November was just yesterday....wasn't it?  Try as I might, I just can't seem to keep the days and weeks from zipping by.  I was hoping to slow down December, but here we are, on the 12th already, and still so much to do!

Life goes on in the inner city, most of the people are aware of the Christmas season but many don't care; it's a painful time for many and they just want to get it over with...but are still appreciative of the many festive meals served during the season.  Last week was a tough week at the Mustard Seed; it was bitterly cold and windy, and I was yelled at more than once and also sworn at, and I left feeling drained and tired, but would never quit trying to befriend these people; all God's children who have just taken a wrong turn somewhere in their lives.

I remember when I first started volunteering and a woman named Tammy would come in every week, never smiling, never saying thank you, but I was determined to break through her rough exterior and now we are buddies!  On the days that I see her she tells me about their new place, her grandchildren, and what she's been up to since I last saw her.  I am reminded of Tammy as I approach the folks who look grumpy, who don't say thank you, who bark responses to my questions, knowing that inside there is a mother's son or a father's daughter, and at sometime in their lives, even if it was a long time ago, they had a spark of hope. 

And we can give hope to so many, even if it just through a smile.

Last night was one of those fun nights downtown - it was cold but the mood was festive, and my volunteer pal Minnie brought me an apron that was shaped like a frog.  Even though I am not typically an apron wearing person, I thought it was pretty cute and might generate some smiles throughout the night.  Boy, was I right!

My frog apron struck up many conversations with the community, prompted lots of smiles, and kept me in giggles for the entire night.  We had plenty of food and I was able to hand out muffins until the end of the night, and everyone left with something extra for their lunches the next day.  I joked with a community member who was trying to get us to guess his name, and rather than cheating and asking one of the staff, I just decided we would call him Rumpelstiltskin.  That evoked more laughter and giggles.

We all went our separate ways at 10:00, they to the streets and I to my car, but I left with a lot of good feelings and a prayer that maybe some of the community members will remember that evening of joy and fun, and that it will bring some hope into their lives that things could be a little better.

Where You go I'll go and what You say I'll say.......