Self-Imposed Work

5.30.19—Self Imposed Work

Ever since 7th grade, I’ve kept a journal of my poems. For years, I would gather pieces of paper, napkins, and any else I’d scribbled on, put them in chronological order, and then copy their contents neatly into my “book of poems.” This collection process helped keep me organized and made the formatting the same for all of my writing. It’s actually really neat to look at how both my handwriting and signature have changed over the years—and how I am the same person year after year, just with a different understanding of God and self, and with much, much more grace.

Since 2007, however, I’ve done most of my writing on the computer or, more recently, my phone. This electronic gathering of words is much cleaner, neater, and easier to organize than the paper way. I haven’t needed my hand-written book of poems as much because I can print and bind a professional looking book quite easily. In fact, I have printed and bound books for every year of the past decade or more. My “original copy of songs and poems” file has pretty much ceased receiving additions. My writing thought process with edits has pretty much ceased to be seen. The backspace and delete buttons of electronics erase evidence of poor word choice and misspellings.

Maybe this is why I still find myself desiring to copy my writing into my book of poems—to remind myself that I’m human—to remember that some processes can and should take time—to remind myself that it’s okay to make a mistake every once in a while. Pen and ink are good reminders of that fact—especially when one writes as small and messy as me…

Ever since my first year of teaching, I’ve kept a budget sheet. Money Matters with Larry Burkett was on the radio each afternoon as I drove home, so he instilled in me both the importance of having a budget sheet and of having no debt. In the past twenty years, software programs, apps, and electronic banking have all become popular ways of keeping up with spending. I know this. I know there are time-saving ways to keep track of personal finances. And yet, I continue to keep my own budget sheet. The format of the sheet has changed many times over the years, but it’s always involved a manual entering of spending…because maybe I need to slow down and process my purchases—really look at where my money is going and ask myself what my spending habits say about my heart—and maybe I need a slap in the face ever so often because maybe I’m not always the good steward of my money that God has called me to be…

The other day, I was complaining about my hand hurting from writing down poems. A few days before that, I was complaining about being behind on my budget sheet. One of my friends said, “All of that self-imposed work.” And I realized she was correct. My book of poems and my budget sheet are both self-imposed tasks that no one would miss were I to stop doing them—except for me. I would miss both of them—because both of them have their place in my life—and both serve as a reminder for me to slow down and really look at the life that I’m living—to truly remember the journey—and to pray for the people, events, and circumstances that inspire me to write or cause me to spend money…

Think about the self-imposed work that you have in your life--schedules, routines, tasks, organizational systems, and expectations that you alone hold for yourself. Does this self-imposed work help or hinder you? Does it add something positive to your life or fill you with frustration? Is it something that you need or is it something that can be let go? If you need it, then why? What value does it add to your life? Don’t be afraid to name and claim it. But if you can let it go, then what practical steps can you take to actually do so? There is no need to live life bogged down by self-imposed work.

Whatever you name and whatever you decide, I hope that you will embrace your self-imposed work as part of who you are and use it for the betterment of yourself and others. In the meantime, I will continue writing down poems to the detriment of my hand and I will continue filling in my budget sheet to my personal dismay. How one person can spend so much money on food, I don’t know. But at least I know it and can celebrate that so much of what I have spent has been with family and friends.

What We Love The Most

5.27.19—What We Love The Most

Last year, sometime before retiring from my job as music minister, one of my choir members came to church in the most awesome shoes. I asked where she’d gotten them and within 10 minutes I’d ordered a pair from Amazon. Before the summer was over, I’d ordered two more pairs, and just recently I added two more pairs to my collection. I wanted to have all color bases covered.

What’s interesting about this part of my shoe collection is that people have actually noticed it! I’ve been wearing Birkenstocks since the early 1990s. I started wearing them because my brother’s college roommate recommended them and I’ve not stopped because most other shoes hurt my feet. For those of you who know me well, you know that I don’t pay much attention to fashion, so it’s not phased me that Birkenstocks haven’t been popular. But all of a sudden, they are popular again, and people keep noticing and asking about my shoes! I’ve probably told ten people what type of shoes they are and where they can find them. That’s ten more people than have asked about my shoes in ten years!

When people ask, I tell them that they are waterproof Birkenstocks and that they can be found on Amazon. [To be more specific, they are Gizeh EVA sandals, but I never can remember that much.] I share that I like them because they are lightweight, they float, they don’t stink, they aren’t overly expensive, and they come in many different colors. I say that I like that they all fit the same so that the tan line on my foot is consistent. But most of all, I say, I like them because they are comfortable and they support my foot with the footbed that my foot has come to expect. I’m not sure how many people have actually purchased a pair because of my recommendation, but it’s not because I haven’t tried.

Friends: We talk about the things that we experience and value the most. My original choir member had no idea that her telling me about her shoes would result in me purchasing five pairs would result in me telling at least 10 other people about the shoes. This is evangelism—not of the love of Jesus Christ—but of that which we experience and value the most. We talk about shoes, clothes, TV shows, movies, food, phones, vacation destinations, art, parenting techniques, worship styles, health and beauty, cleaning hacks, teaching tools, sports, couponing, politics, and endless other topics because, 1) they are life, and 2) we experience and value them the most.

I think this is natural. I think it is normal to talk about the things we know the most about. But I can’t help but wonder: What if, above all else, we experienced, valued, and talked about love—not of things—not of anything of this world—but of the God who IS Love and who wants us to live in relationship with one another through Christ’s love? Yes. We would need to talk about other things. But what if, at the root of it all, our goal was Love? And what if we refrained from saying anything that doesn’t come from a place of love?

I suppose this may sound silly. But every time I buy a pair of shoes—especially if they are expensive—I pray that God will bless the shoes and the feet that will walk in them. I pray blessings on the places that they will go and I pray that God will use me as I go wherever God leads…

I think maybe I should start praying for the people who ask about my shoes—that God will guide their feet, too—and that together, in Birkenstocks or not, we will carry Love to this world.

We Should Tell Them

5.23.19—We Should Tell Them

I was recently looking through some old poems when I stumbled across one that hooked me. It is a 2014 update of a song that I wrote in 1999 for a dear friend whom I learned had been molested by her babysitter when she was a kid. At the time, her story was the first of its kind that I had heard. It naturally broke my heart. Since that time, I have heard (and witnessed) many more terrible stories of childhood sexual trauma—and other forms of childhood trauma as well—and my heart still breaks for their reality today…

Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing as a music teacher. I have my Master of Divinity and my Master of School Administration degrees, and yet I am outwardly using neither of those degrees on a daily basis. Yes, the process of getting the degrees influenced and changed me for the better. But sometimes I wonder why I spent so much time and money earning degrees that I do not need as an elementary music teacher. Sometimes I wonder if I’m wasting my life and call in this classroom. But then I remember the kids…the brokenness…the pain and heartache…mixed with promise and hope…and I remember that I can provide 45 minutes of goodness and attempted unconditional love to 700 students each week—and that’s big. I can also provide music…and music has a way of healing us when nothing else can—that’s big, too.

I don’t know what doubts you carry today, friend. I don’t know if you, too, wonder what you’re doing with your life—if you wonder how you can simply influence your family, much less the world. I don’t know if you have experienced a trauma from which you are still healing. I don’t know if you know someone who is hurting so deeply that it makes you cry. But I do know this: the God who provides us with goodness and true unconditional love is wooing you to accept that goodness and unconditional love and to try to share it with those around you—however you can, in whatever you do—even if it seems like your attempts are pointless.

Show up. Sit. Listen. Tell stories. Laugh. Give. Hug. Sing. Do your best work. Be patient in the midst of chaos. Remain calm when tempers flare. Smile. Drive someone to therapy. Realize that therapy is okay. Share a meal. Share a spare room. Share Jesus.

There is so much brokenness in the world. So much from which we must heal. But we have the Great Physician on our side and God wants to heal and redeem the world with and through us…and that’s just so big…

-----

“I Don’t Know About You But I Think We Should Tell Them”

No child should have to:
know all she knows,
see all she sees,
hurt all she hurts,
be all she is.

No child should have to:
face life alone,
doubt her next meal will come,
feel she’s not good enough,
believe who is she is, is wrong.

No child should have to:
joke to hide all the pain inside,
think she's weak if she cries,
fear the touch of another’s hand,
hear words that wound and damn.

But so many do.

Just look into eyes: shame.
Just listen to voices: humiliation.
Just look at shoulders: embarrassment.

If only they knew who they are.

If only they knew they are loved as they are:
Beautifully broken, resilient children of God,
Created and able to grow by the creativity of God,
Redeemed and made new by the grace of God…

Sometimes We Have To Wait

If you’ve ever been to Riverbanks Zoo in Columbia, SC, then you may have noticed that it is directly across the street from the South Carolina Baptist State Convention Building. This is the building that houses SC WMU and greeted me almost every day for three years. There were days that I would arrive at work and hear the siamangs calling to one another. There were other days that I’d visit the zoo during my lunch break, just because I wanted to see the bears—they were my favorite—and that’s how close we were to the zoo.

If you’ve ever been to the zoo, then you know that it is a major attraction for children seeing animals that they’ve read about in books for the first time. You also know that the animals don’t hold children’s attention for very long unless they are doing something other than sleeping—which is very often what animals are doing. One of the things that I learned to do when I worked across the street from the zoo was simply to wait. Since I didn’t have to cram a full zoo tour into one afternoon, I could just stand and watch one particular animal for quite some time. Eventually, they would yawn, stretch, get up and walk around, decide it was time to eat, scratch, turn over, play, swim—something! It’s in the waiting that I became fascinated by the brown bears—and the koala bears—both of which I wish I could snuggle.

So it makes sense that the animals I most wanted to visit during a one hour visit to Riverbanks on Tuesday were the brown bears and the koala bears. The brown bears were awake and active. One of them was hanging out in the pool, playing with in the water. The other was sitting on a rock at first, but then he got up to walk around, roll around, and then plop into the water as well. As always, the brown bears made me smile!

When I got to the koalas, they were asleep. I wasn’t surprised. Koalas usually sleep about 20 hours per day, so to see them awake is a rare treat…but I got to see it! Standing there smelling the fragrance of eucalyptus filling the room, I startled to realize that one of the koalas was waking up! He stretched his little arms and opened his little eyes and then just sat there, straight up, until his keeper came and gave him some medicine. Then he stuck out his little tongue, which was extremely cute, hoping for more medicine, until he decided that it was time to go back to sleep.

Meanwhile, the other koala had woken up, stretched his little arms, decided he was hungry, and walked over to get his dinner. Watching him reach his little hand and grab the branches of eucalyptus leaves was so neat! I’d never seen a koala that awake and active, leaves hanging from his mouth, chowing down…

Friends: There is a lot in this world that I don’t understand. Sometimes it seems that society’s problems and heartaches are so grounded that they will not go away. Sometimes it seems that war, conflict, us-against-them, and other dividing forces are so strong that forces of peace, cooperation, togetherness, and unity-through-diversity can do nothing to make a dent. Sometimes the questions and doubts are so poignant and real that answers and faith cannot be seen. And yet—

Sometimes we just have to wait. Even if all the world keeps going, sometimes we just need to remain in place and believe that something more will come. A little hand will stretch. A little mouth will open. A large body will decide that it’s hot and move toward the water. Something will happen. Energy will shift. And Life will make itself abundantly clear. It’s just that sometimes…

Sometimes we have to wait.

Bestowing Grace On The World

In preparation for a sermon that I delivered on Romans 12 yesterday, I reread a paper that I wrote in divinity school over a decade ago. One of my favorite parts of the paper is as follows (slightly edited):

In the English language, the word “gift” is defined as “a natural talent” or “something easy to do.” In Greek, the word for gift, “charism,” is defined as a “divine gratuity.” “Charism” denotes any word or action that brings concrete expression of God’s gracious outreach to humankind. In other words, a charism, or gift, is any word or action that serves as a means of grace. Spiritual gifts, then, aren’t just natural talents or things that we’re good at, rather they are words and actions given to believers to bring grace to expression in this world.

I love this.

I love knowing that all who are believers are gifted, through God’s spirit, to bestow grace upon this world.

Does it mean that we are all musicians?
Does it mean that we are all great public speakers?
Does it mean that we are all gifted craftspeople?
Does it mean that we are all capable of roofing?
Does it mean that we are all super intelligent?
Does it mean that we are all excellent athletes?
Does it mean that we are all super talented in ways valued by this world?

No!

It means that we all have a way through which we bestow grace upon the world.

Prophesy.
Serve.
Teach.
Encourage.
Give.
Lead.
Show mercy.
Generously.
Wisely.
Cheerfully.
Diligently.
FOR GRACE.

So sing those songs.
Bake those cookies.
Clean that building.
Work with those children.
Replace that sheetrock.
Construct that Etsy craft.
Make those speeches.
Plan those events.
Build that fire.
Coach that team.
Take charge of that meeting.
Pray those prayers. Out loud and silent.
Do what you do best,
What you enjoy doing most,
But filter it through the gift(s) that you have been given to bestow grace upon this world.
Amen?
And Amen.

Fireflies

Two weekends ago, I had the privilege of providing the special music for a women’s retreat in Arapahoe. While I was making the three-hour trip, I noticed a super cool billboard that said: “Gotta Go? Newly renovated restrooms in (however many) miles.” The image on the billboard was of a non-descript person crossing his/her legs in the “I’ve got to pee” stance. The logo on the billboard was for an outdoor store. I smiled as I drove by and thought to myself, “That is the first time I’ve ever seen a roadside advertisement flat out address the fact that sometimes we really need to stop but have no idea where we will go...”

Many years ago, I saw another roadside sign that said, “Next Rest Stop 42 miles.” At first, I was mad. I thought that the sign was taunting me, tormenting me, and telling me that I’d need to wait for 42 miles to stop and use the restroom. But then I realized something very important: If I could just hold on for 42 miles, then I would be assured of clean, safe restrooms and I wouldn’t have to pull off on every exit and hope to find a decent gas station or restaurant bathroom. I realized that just knowing what was ahead helped me keep going…

Shortly after the rest stop sign encounter, I wrote a song called, “Fireflies.” I was at summer camp, sitting in a field, waiting for a clear sign from God, when all I saw was darkness…until I noticed the fireflies. They were everywhere. I couldn’t tell when or where they’d light up. But they kept lighting up. All around me. And in their small lights, I realized that God was telling me something: I am already here, Deanna. I am all around you. You don’t have to wait for some big sign. I am in the love of your friends and family. I am in the calm of the wind. I am in the peace of the trees. I am in scripture. I am in prayer. I am in laughter. I am in tears. I am all around you. Please, just to open your eyes and see. I am right here…

I shared a bit of this story with the ladies on the retreat two weekends ago and then I sang the song.
Later that night, they saw fireflies. In them they saw a flash of God’s light and heard the promise that God will never leave or forsake them. Maybe you need to be reminded of that promise tonight. And maybe you will never again see fireflies the same.

“I was sittin’ alone in the dark one night ~ Lookin’ at the stars through a break in the trees ~ The moon covered up by the grey, summer clouds ~ I was waitin’ to see God’s face ~ So I sat and I sat and I waited ~ I waited for what seemed like years ~ Blinded my stupidity ~ I couldn’t see through my fears ~~ Oh the answer, it was in front of me ~ It was behind me, beside me ~ Little flashes of light all around me ~ But still I could not see ~ Fireflies, oh fireflies ~ Rays of hope, short feelings of peace ~ At the right time they come ~ To carry us through until the day we the Son ~~ I was driving down the road one day ~ When I really needed to stop ~ But then I saw a bright blue sign that said ~ “Rest stop 42 miles” ~ So in pain I drudged on, I drove and I drove ~ Knowing that soon I’d get relief ~ The knowledge of what was ahead of me ~ Helped me to persist ~~ Oh the answer it was in front of me ~ It was inside me, a part of me ~ In my heart and soul ~ Knowing I’m not alone ~ But still I could not see ~~ Fireflies – Fireflies”

Big Rev and Little Rev's Prayer

My dad and I almost walked down the aisle beside each other yesterday…but we were too big to fit side-by-side so I sent him ahead and walked behind him with my hand on his arm. Big Rev and Little Rev co-officiated a wedding for the first time, and I couldn’t be prouder to have stood by his side.

As we prepared for the wedding, my dad introduced me to a prayer of blessing that he has used at a couple of his weddings. The prayer pretty much summarizes everything that he wishes for the couple…and it also summarizes pretty much everything that I hope for myself and those around me.

After some edits, the prayer reads as follows. I pray that you will feel it being prayed over you right now, friend, for you are loved.

“Bless us, oh God, as we continue our journey down life’s road. We don’t know what lies ahead, for the road turns and bends. But help us make the best of whatever comes our way.

Help us to always remember that nothing or no one is perfect and to look for the good in all things and all people—including ourselves. Help us, too, to enjoy those around us.

Help us to respect other person’s likes and dislikes, opinions and beliefs, and hopes and fears, even when we do not understand them.

Help us to learn from those around us and to help each other grow mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

Help us to create peaceful, stable spaces of love to serve foundations on which our children can build their lives.

Help us hold to our loved ones and to know that, no matter what happens, things have a way of working out for the good.

And most of all, dear God, help us to love without ceasing so that our lives may be shining examples of your love to everyone we meet.

We love you. So much. Amen.”

It Takes Everyone

Confession: I am a Battle of the Books dropout.

For those who may not know, Battle of the Books is a trivia-like competition for students who enjoy reading. The NC School Library Media Association publishes a list of books to be read and studied each year. Various persons then write fact-recall questions about the books and different schools select teams of students to compete again other teams in answering said questions. Teams have no idea what the questions will be until they hear them at the competition.

I started reading this year’s Battle of the Books books at the end of last year. I read a handful of the books and had every intention of completing the entire list…but…I didn’t. I somehow managed to run into a brick wall of anti-reading, and I’ve yet to overcome the wall.

Not reading all of the books = disqualified from the Battle of the Books team = Deanna disqualifying herself as a coach. I, Deanna Deaton, am a Battle of the Books dropout.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t help with this year’s competition.

It sounds small, I know, and it really is small in comparison to the hours of practice that the team and coaches put into this year’s competition, but I provided the plants for stage decorations and the microphones for the sound system at this year’s countywide competition.

The coaches were hoping to rent some stage decorations, but the rental fell through. I always buy my mom plants for Mother’s Day, so I decided to buy the plants early this year and loan them to Battle of the Books. [Happy Mother’s Day, mom :-D!]

I used to sing in a band. At the height of our career, we bought our own microphones. I have six microphones that now sit in a closet at home. We have no decent microphones at school. I was asked to set up the sound system, so I decided to bring my microphones from home so that the sound would be consistent between teams. I figured that the microphones are much more useful at school for two days than they are in the closet at home.

Like I said, I know that these two things are really small in the scheme of the entire event. Yet they needed to happen. And I could fill the needs. So why not step up and play my part?

The truth is, friends, everything is a sum of its parts. None of us stands completely alone. Ever. Sometimes, our role in an event or happening is as big as coordinating or coaching. Other times it’s as small as providing plants and microphones. Regardless, we each have our roles to play—gifts and talents to offer—things that we can do to help those around us—support that we can give—solutions that we can offer if we will but take a few minutes to see what they are. And I don’t know why, but this truth is especially good news to me today.

I may be a Battle of the Books dropout, but I’m also a Battle of the Books supporter. I did what I could to lead to today’s victory for our school. That’s right—my team won! And I couldn’t be prouder to have been a part of it all.

“ For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully. Love must be sincere.” Romans 12:3-9

End of Year Reflection

6.6.19—End of Year Reflection

Last year at this time, I was setting up my hut for the beginning of the 2018-2019 school year. I spent a lot of money on storage containers; inventoried and organized all instruments, CDs, DVDs, and books in the classroom; and rearranged everything in the hut so that it would be ready when the school year began. I worked really hard for all of the workdays and left my classroom more prepared than at any time in my career…only to be called away from that classroom just a few weeks later.

To say that this year has flown by would be an understatement. It seems like just last week that I was sorting through an entirely new batch of music stuff, trying to make sense of what was and wasn’t at Greenwood, trying to figure out how to set up a classroom that was actually in the building, with a closet, and near a bathroom, rather than in a hut! Instead of beginning the year prepared as planned, I began the year feeling unprepared and overwhelmed by the whirlwind that was an unexpected move and by the enormity of building a music program for 650 students (and teachers and parents, too) whose names I did not know and whose stories I’d not yet learned. Yet I made it. With the help and support of my team and with grace and patience toward myself, I made it. And it was a good year. Different than I’d expected. But good nonetheless. And my classroom finally feels normal—like home away from home—it just took some time…

Time. Our greatest enemy. Our best friend.

Or as Henry Van Dyke once said, “Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.”

I am thankful that time has allowed me to settle in at Greenwood and that, as far as I know, I will have more time next year to learn more names, hear more stories, and get to love people more dearly than I already do…

Yesterday at Kindergarten graduation, one of my Kindergarteners said that his favorite part of Kindergarten was completing Kindergarten because everyone in his family had completed Kindergarten and he wanted to carry on the family tradition 😊.

I have now completed 14 years of teaching. I don’t know if I will retire from this career or if God will call me to something different. But in the meantime, in all the time in between now and then—whenever “then” is—I want to carry on a tradition of excellence for my students and coworkers. I want to know people’s names. I want to live and breathe grace and patience. I want to surround myself with good people who make good things possible. And I want to tell those people that they are loved and appreciated…through all space, eternity, and time…

Markers

We had EOG test training today. Every year, at this time of year, teachers across NC gather for EOG test training. And every year the training is similar, though not always the same because information always changes.

Today, as I sat in training, it hit me that EOG test training is a marker in my life—a fixed point that I can look back upon to create a specific container of time. For instance, in between last year’s EOG trainings and today, I have been called away from both the church and school where I served for five years and instead called to Greenwood. A container of one year. So much can happen in that space…

These markers,
These yearly events,
Mark the passing of time.
They are simple reminders of what has stayed the same and
Complex announcements of all that has changed.
Every year they come
Like the seasons,
Steady,
Predictable,
Flooding the mind with sorrow and joy,
Mourning and celebration,
Extremes of life’s continuum,
And everything in between.

Markers, I think, are both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes we don’t want to remember. But sometimes, we need not to forget.

What are the markers in your life? What events always make you think back to the same event in a previous time? I’d love to hear.

Going to the Car Wash

I washed my car last week.

I didn’t take it through the car wash or pay to have someone wash it for me.

I washed my car myself—at the car wash—with a lot of quarters—and the soapy brush—and the pressure washer.

Many years ago, when I taught in Angier on Tuesdays, I stopped at the car wash with my friend B every other week. We had our system down—how we would wash our cars—and we helped each other get our cars squeaky clean in the quickest way possible.

I didn’t have B with me last week, but I followed our same pattern of cleaning: pressure soap, foamy brush, rinse.

Since my car has been living outside, it acquires a lot of dirt. I could see that she was dirty last week (yes, my car is a girl) and I could see the dirt coming off of her with both the pressure soap and the foamy brush. For a moment, I considered becoming a professional pressure washer because watching the dirt and grime disappear was so satisfying, but then my hand started hurting and I quickly gave up that daydream.

As I rinsed the soap from the car, I started noticing little black pieces of dirt showing up on the newly whitened surface. Confused at first, I kept rinsing until I realized where the dirt was coming from: deep within the grooves and seals around the windows, lights, trunk, and hood.

Until that moment, I hadn’t thought much about these grooves and seals. But as soon as I started paying attention to them, I quickly realized that the pressure soaping and foamy brushing hadn’t cleaned them because the dirt and grime were so embedded. And so I started blasting them. And they started coming clean. And then my time ran out before I properly formulated the thought that I should add more quarters to clean more grooves.

So I went back the next day. And specifically attacked the places that were dirty. And I smiled the whole time because the whole process was so neat—so full of accomplishment—so cleansing…

I wonder if our lives are like this sometimes—covered with dirt and grime that we don’t even realize is there because it’s been building slowly over time.

I spoke with a friend the other night and she made the comment that she didn’t realize just how poorly she was doing until she stepped back from everything and gave herself time and space to breathe—to renew her spirit—to find the spiritual and emotional parts of herself that she had forgotten were there—and to remove all of the junk that had piled on top of them…

I saw a place that I missed on my car yesterday—a seal around a taillight—and I had to stop myself from spending more money just to blast it clean. I think I’ll wait until my car has been outside for a few weeks and then take it to the carwash again—this time knowing that I must pay attention both to the parts that are obviously dirty and to the parts that aren’t so much so—and knowing that I should examine myself and how I’m doing in the process.
Have you been to the carwash lately? Have you found some areas in your life that need some work?