Close your eyes and think of England.

That's been my motto this week. The thing about taking a long trip is that you have to do things you've been putting off. Hard things. Boring things. Long things.

Stinky things.

But none of it is as bad as getting screwed over at the gas station these days. There comes a point when you have to say, To hell with the budget, I'm just going to have to fill up. And so you close your eyes and think of England.

Except, of course, gas prices- or rather, petrol prices- are even worse over there. If you've been paying attention on Ravelry, there's been a good amount of international petrol price wanking going on, with people on both sides of the pond and both sides of the border at each other's throats. Not pretty.

Besides, we should all be at the oil companies' throats instead, right?

Still, I'm not convinced that that lovely little isle ruled by the Queen has it as bad as they think. Their intercity busses may be inexpensive and infrequent, but at least they exist. And if you can walk to the grocery store, you're still doing better than I am. Plus, they've got free health care! That's, like, a quarter of my monthly budget that they don't have to pay for at all!

How did this turn into a gas rant? I love the British. They make great TV. And radio. And accents. But it's too late now to turn this post into anything else, as I have to go do more things with my eyes closed and my thoughts trained on England. I guess I'll just have to send this one out with apologies to the offended Brits. I love you guys.

Oh, and Mr. Tennant? The offer's still on the table.

Cheque-ing in

Is it August again? I swear it's August again. It's hot outside, my life is thoroughly boring, and I'm hunting for a job again. Does this sound familiar?

It's hard to say how I feel right now. I feel like I've been stuck in the same place for months. On the edge of going broke, with painfully unoccupied days and a thousand desperate plans to get some quick cash. I always thought people who took vows of poverty were noble and brave, but right now I think they might just be crazy.

I'm making a crazy move right now; I'm going to apply to be a substitute teacher. It would be a good position in so many ways- it would get me some teaching experience and give me summers off to to SIL training. Brilliant, no? Here's the catch- it will take nearly all the money I have to pay for the training to be certified.

It's terrifying. But I have to try for something. I just hope whoever cooks for Bible study in the next few weeks cooks lots, so that I won't have to go buy lots of groceries before I have a paycheck.

Of course, if anyone would like to buy, say, a pair of hand-knit socks or mittens, or a crocheted quilt, that person could help ease my worries... ;)

Musings: Hospitality, Generosity, Opportunity

(With any luck, tomorrow will be the day for knitting pictures- possibly including one of the HP movie ensemble. Fake grafting of the House "Sweater" shoulders is in progress; neckline and armhole ribbing is scheduled for completion tomorrow, followed by a very long session of weaving in ends. If I have any strength left after that, you'll see pictures.)

For the first time in my life, I think, I have hit what I could fairly call "hard times". The past few months have taken their toll, and I sit at the end of them tired, sick, broke, and now without income. It's not a particularly pleasant place to be. These circumstances have, however, given me just the right amount of time for reflection.

I knew it would be best if I stayed in the same town while my medical issues sorted themselves out. This meant putting off my dreams of grad school or, alternatively, a short-term mission placement. My life was put on hold while my survival took center stage. I was disappointed. But finally, after months and months of tough times, God delivered his whack of the clue-by-four.

I'm starting to realize that having to give up my plans is not a setback: God's timing is best. It is an opportunity. I believe I have work left to do where I am, both for myself and for my community. What exactly that work is, I can't say. I'm still waiting for the Cruise Director to hand out the itinerary, if you catch my drift. But I am learning to trust and wait. It's not an easy lesson.

Meanwhile, I'm struggling to figure out how exactly one serves God while dirt poor. Maybe the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil, but the lack of money sure makes it hard to serve God the way I want to. How can I show hospitality to people when I can't spare a can of condensed soup to feed them? How can I put in my two pennies in the offering plate when it's all I have to live on? How can I be generous when I owe people money and I could run out of food next week?

But in my good moments, I find joy again. When I'm at my best, rather than panicking about how to get things, I'm weeding things out of my life that aren't necessary. Extra blankets. Extra clothes. That second coat in my closet that belongs to the person who's shivering in the cold. (Well, not shivering today, maybe.) In some ways, this lean time is a blessing. I feel less cluttered; my purpose is in clearer focus. Not to sound too proud about it, because I'm only making meager beginnings, but I'm learning to throw away everything that separates me from Christ.

It's a fast of sorts, and I'm grateful for it. I have never been poor before, and though I'm not anywhere near real poverty yet, I feel like a layer of scales has fallen off my eyes. I'm just not quite sure what I'm looking at yet.