A Smattering of Unrelated Thoughts

I've been very focused all day, reading a stack of documents to familiarize myself with a new case that is hurtling toward trial at the speed of light.  So please pardon me if this blogpost is anything but focused; I seem to have spent all my focus elsewhere.

A touching moment.  Last night, Mr. Squire and I watched the first half of the premiere of Season 4 of Downton Abbey.  In it, Lord Grantham said to Tom Branson (concerning Lady Mary and the deceased Matthew Crawley), "The price of great love is great misery when one of you dies."  Mr. Squire and I both made sad faces and reached for each other's hands when he said that.  I was touched--because Mr. Squire isn't exactly a feeler.  But he apparently feels the same way about me as I do about him.  I am thankful for the great love we share.

A touching dream.  Halfway through Downton Abbey, I expressed a desire to go to sleep.  The looming trial and everything that needs to get done in the next nine months before it (not to mention my five other active cases) exhausted me mentally, and I really wanted to just enter my own little world.  And enter I did--and there, I had a wonderful dream.  I was careening around town in some contraption that is best described as a cross between a subway car and a Disney ride.  We came to a stop, and the man diagonal from me rushed out the doors.  Just before the doors closed, he rushed back in, to my surprise (I thought he was getting off? Maybe he was mistaken about the stop?).  In his left hand, he carried a large plastic bag bearing a conical object.  He had clearly just picked it up--bought it.  Inside was what appeared to be a gigantic bouquet of flowers, which he wordlessly handed to an elderly couple across the train car.  And that's where the dream ended.  It made me very happy.

At the foot of a mountain.  The eerie peace and quiet couldn't (and shouldn't) last forever.  It's been several months since work really quieted down.  During that time, I've reached a critical place of peace in terms of calling/vocation.  I've reconnected with friends and truly rested.  I've picked up a new hobby (hello, papercutting!).  It's time to lace up my hiking boots and pack a bag for a long trip, though.  The call has come; it's time to go.  Time to go mountain-climbing.  I have several active matters at work, and one gigantic new assignment.  I think it's something of a test, and even if it's not, it will certainly be very challenging.  I'm nervous, but also excited.  I am almost certain that the next nine months will bring exhaustion, fatigue, frustration, and hopefully not too much of a physical toll.  But I also expect to learn a ton and grow immensely as an attorney.  My prayers are to not be overwhelmed; to not get buried in work; to do my work with excellence; to remember who is my God.  Especially that last one.  Here we go...

Good Will Hunting

Last week, one of my friends celebrated another birthday.  He lives in Texas, so I sent him an email with a couple birthday queries:  What are you doing to celebrate?  What's one thing you loved about last year?  What's one thing you're looking forward to this year?

His response was cheerful and full of things that were more or less expected... meeting up with friends to celebrate... loved finally landing his dream job at the Department of Justice ... looking forward to doing two criminal trials....  The usual.  But then my eyes landed on the last sentence in his response to Question 3:  "I am also looking forward to having a closer relationship and understanding of Christ."

In my heart, I smiled.  And on my face, I grinned.  And in my head, I thought, What the--?

I've known this friend since 2007, when I worked under him at my old law firm.  He was super-intense (still is) and I was super-intimidated, but I enjoyed working with him.  If anyone I know loves the field, the work, the art of law--it's this friend.  We got to know each other as boss/underling, and as the weeks passed by, that slipped into more of a mentor/mentee thing.  By the end of the summer, we were friends.  

The first time I realized that we had become friends was late one evening when we were both in the office, working together on our pro bono brief.  He came into my office without announcement, slumped into one of my guest chairs, buried his head in his hands, and murmured, "I have a headache."  With that admission of his feeling/being something short of super-awesome, we ushered in a new age of friendship.  Since that time, although we have rarely been in the same city, we have bonded and helped each other with numerous career-related anxieties and relationship issues (more his than mine).  He came to our wedding.  I visited him while on business in Texas.  I went to his special 30th birthday dinner with a very select group of his family/friends/judge.  

Through all of these years of friendship--especially the early years--I never hid my faith.  He knew what I was.  He knew who I thought Jesus was. He knew who I wanted Jesus to be to him.  ... But he gently mocked me, calling me a goody-goody, taking little jabs at claims of the Bible... that's just what I came to expect with him.  I didn't really mind...so it goes with the lost.  But, like his mom, I prayed for him--kind of.  I'm not sure I really believed God would ever change him.

Then he moved to Texas.  And his judge there is a devout Christian.  Things started to change in the way he spoke about God.  And amid his career-direction crisis that followed, he began to ask me to pray for him.  Every time he asked me to pray for him, I marveled at the work that God was doing.  Could it really be?

Yes, it can really be.  Several years have since passed.  He is looking forward to growing in his knowledge of Jesus and deepening his relationship with his Lord.  I am amazed at God's ongoing work, and more than a little ashamed that I didn't trust Jesus more.  I am inspired again to pray--with belief, please!--that God can change the hearts of whomever He so chooses.  The people I think will never turn to Jesus just might one day, with His help.

Praise God for His faithfulness and for His ongoing work in all of our lives.  And happy birthday to my dear friend -- my brother.

Scenes from our First Snowfall in 2014

Welcome to Willowtown.

Hindsight and Foresight: The Year in Review and Looking Ahead

Some years are more eventful than others -- and 2013 was on the far end of the spectrum.  A few highlights and lowlights:

Mr. Squire... 

-Took a break from teaching and picked up whatever it is that he's doing now as unpaid Vice President of a two-man hedge fund.  This transition from teaching to not-teaching was incredibly difficult for me.  Why would God pull a caring, loving, capable teacher out of a desperately flailing system and plop him into some day-trading "job" that doesn't directly add value to the world?  It seemed like an utter waste to me, and yet I knew Mr. Squire could not sustain another year as a teacher--and if he left now, he still might return (that's my hope, anyway).  So, kicking and screaming and whining a bit on the inside, I went with it.  And it hasn't been bad.  In fact, it's been good--for me, for the guys in his men's group, for the husbands in his husbands' group, even for his school (because now he goes back to sub and relieve some pressure from the teachers).  I don't know what the future holds, but right now, it seems to work.

-Started reading his Bible every day.  Ironically, this was a direct consequence of his financial research work, which God used to make him realize that if you're going to go high in your faith, you have to go deep in your knowledge and understanding of God, Jesus, and the Gospel.  The God who surprised the world by using non-eldest brothers and humble tribes and towns to raise up the Savior is still using unlikely means today.  Three months have passed since Mr. Squire started reading his Bible on a daily basis, and I am still marveling at this amazing answer to my prayers.  I believe more strongly now than ever before that God can and does change hearts.

-Became himself again.  I didn't realize what a rough road we had been on during his teaching years until he quit.  And slowly, he emerged from zombie mode... his emotional capacity increased significantly... he didn't require daily propping-up... he became whole again.  All of which, of course, made life much easier for me.  Perhaps this hiatus is just what we needed.  Knowing God, that must be true.

As for me, I...

-Was given a tremendous gift of revelation about my calling/work circumstances.  See this post and this post from October.  This is probably the single most major thing that happened to me in 2013.  After having struggled for so many months, it has been a great relief to reach a place of relative peace about where I am and where things are right now.  Of course, it still feels as if I am sailing on an endless sea, surrounded fully from horizon to horizon by vast expanses of water--no land in sight.  It still feels as if I have no map, and no idea to where I am sailing, or why, or how long this mysterious part of the journey will last.  It still feels, frankly, as if I am lost.  But after months of flailing about, steering hopelessly this way and that, I am ceding control.  To be clear, I haven't given up--I've just given over.  It still feels like I'm just floating, but now I trust/realize that though I can't literally see God at the helm, He is there.  And that makes things a lot more okay.

-Grew a lot at work.  I picked up a lot of skills--did many things for the first time, and then for a second and third time.  Worked for many people.  Built something of a reputation, which I hope to only refine and strengthen in the coming year.  I have a lot of work to do, a lot of catching up to do in terms of litigation, and not a lot of time to do it.  There have been some very tough moments at work, and many other joyful ones.  Overall, I still feel very lucky to be at my firm.  The work is good, the opportunities are great, and the people (for the most part) are fantastic.  I really don't think it gets much better than this for a law firm in the City.

-Felt a shift in my role for this current season.  I sense that God is calling me to enter into certain people's lives to just be there for them.  Listen.  Pray.  Counsel.  Pray more.  These are people at work, people at church, people currently in law school, people currently in college.  I'm seeing that God is using a lot of the challenges from the past to help me speak from a place of true compassion and empathy.  Reminds me of II Corinthians 1. 

-Performed half of my 2013 New Year's Resolution of reconciling with two people from my past.  The other half will not happen, I think.  I don't think he welcomes--or even values--reconciliation.  Even more so, I don't think he thinks reconciliation is an issue here; in the New York professional world, contacts are used and discarded once they are no longer valuable...so it's just business as usual for him.  That makes me sad.  I was hoping to have the guts to seek him out anyway, perhaps to demonstrate my own view of the value of a person, but...I'm not that bold yet.  More sadness.

-Adopted three new pets:  an ostrich (Oi), a mosquito (Bugger), and a donkey (JJ).  I freely admit that I have too many pets.  But I can't give any of them up.

The Squires...

-Entered into the New Hope project, which has been going well, thanks to G&J in Denver.  We continue to marvel at this opportunity and pray for God to use it to bless many people.

In other news, my goal in 2014 is to become a better writer.  God willing, I will work at it, He will enable me, and it will happen--somehow, to His glory.

Twinkling Lights in Willowtown

This picture brings me much delight.  

Warm, bright Christmas lights lining the trees in front of Iris Cafe's eclectic storefront.  The Riverside Houses towering above, River Deli and our Moroccan friends in the near distance.  This little corner of Brooklyn has been our home for the last two-and-a-half years, and we have loved every single moment (well, except for the moments when some of our hei ren neighbors taunted us from a balcony in Building 20, yelling, "Tell your people to stop moving in here!" ... but we get some sort of that practically everywhere, so...).

Living here has been a joy and a privilege.  Wish we could stay.  One day in the semi-near future, we will go and make our home elsewhere.  But we will always be thankful for the all the seasons--particularly the joyful Christmases!--that we had here.

Siiiiigh.  It's been a while since I last reflected.  I have a number of things on my mind this evening.

Moments of Delight.

We've had a number of these lately.  

This afternoon, the Squires ventured out into the freshly fallen snow with two friends from church after eating a very satisfying Brooklyn pizza lunch at Juliana's.  We had an impromptu snowball fight -- husbands vs. wives.  We raced across a soccer field scenically situated on a pier, partially in an attempt to weird out the guy who was cross-country skiing on the field.  We took pictures together.  We went to a nearby playground and I finally got the chance to try out the two big slides there.  They were extra-slippery in the snow, and we flew off the slides at seemingly break-neck speeds, shrieking the whole way.  We became children again, and it was awesome.

We received an orchid from a dinner guest two weekends ago.  It is still alive.  In fact, it is doing well.  This is something of a small miracle in this household, as I am reputed to have a black thumb.  I am delighted that Margherita (I named after Margharita of Savoy for the same reason that the margherita pizza is so named) is thriving. Let's see how long I can keep this up!

The last week has brought several soul-feeding conversations with sisters at church and with my dearest friend at work.  I enjoy a good, deep conversation that surpasses small talk and generalities and really digs in deep to address real issues (good and bad) in life.  I am deeply grateful that work has been incredibly low-key and peaceful for so many weeks.  This has given me the opportunity to recenter my thoughts surrounding work and where I am now, reconnect with many people, and reflect on big-picture stuff.  

Sobering Reminders.

I am painfully aware that I am far too impatient with my parents sometimes.  I am actually nervous about returning home for the holidays for that precise reason:  I haven't seen them in so many months, so I want to make the time really good.  But I know (based on my phone conversations with them) that certain things that they do (or don't do) push my buttons to such a degree that I snap at them or say things that I shouldn't.  I hate repeating myself, for example.  I also hate being interrupted.  I don't like hearing criticisms (they sound like criticisms to me, anyway) about how other children are raised, especially because that makes me nervous that I will also be so criticized behind my back about how I raise my own children in the future.  I grow impatient with hearing about the same medical problems, again and again.  I don't like being asked, "Can you believe it? Are you surprised?" because in some perverse way I think I am somehow above being surprised (at least with them).  All of this is horrible and stupid and embarrassing of me.  I'm quite ashamed, really.  :(  I know that only God can help me be better.  Only He can give me the grace and self-control that I so desperately need.  I have been praying that I will be patient with them throughout our visit; that we will be a blessing and not a curse to my parents; that we will love them and make them feel loved; that we will be willing to do things that we don't particularly enjoy simply because they enjoy it.  And by "we" I mean "I," because in these ways Mr. Squire is a better child of my parents than I am.  Problem is, he's not actually their child, so they don't really care that much about whatever he does or doesn't do.  It's what I do or don't do...and I really need to do better.  Lord, deliver me from evil and help me to be better...

Something happened at work recently that completely rattled me.  I felt very tense and unsettled for the rest of the day, and spent much of the day pondering how the event would or could possibly affect my perceived standing as an attorney, as a female, or simply as an individual.  It was a terrible day, and I felt helpless and unjustifiably attacked.  Things got better as the day went along, but I was still uneasy when I left the office.  I took a long walk toward home, playing Steven Curtis Chapman's songs on my iPhone and reflecting on the events of the day.  I was proud of myself for turning to God early on in the event--praying for my "enemy" and also praying for a right perspective.  But I knew that I was still nursing my broken pride.  I looked up at the moon shining down on me, and I remembered with great comfort who I am in Christ.  For a moment, it was well with my soul.  And that moment gave way to a reminder from the Holy Spirit that the sufferings we endure actually serve great purposes.  God reminded me of other difficulties that He had brought me through in the past:  unfair characterizations in high school; unjustified feedback from a particular employee in a prior job; uncertainty with respect to my professional future at various points in my education and career; rough roads in my personal relationships.  God showed me scenes from each prior thorny thicket.  Then He brought to mind scenes from conversations that took place years later--when I was in a position to share about my path out of the thicket with real empathy and real compassion from a place of genuine understanding.   Second Corinthians 1:3-7 says: 

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,  who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.  For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.  If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer.  And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.

I felt substantially better about what happened at work as a result of this reflection.  It may have been unfair, but it will serve a purpose one day.  That makes it worth something, and much easier to accept.  Still hard, but easier.

The Plan for 2014.

God willing, and with the Lord's help, I'm going to become a better writer in 2014.  One comment I received this summer has fueled a fire within me to prove the commenter wrong.  I've resumed the study of a usage book, started a word list, subscribed to The New Yorker, and ordered two desk references.  I will pay much closer attention to how I draft even the simplest of emails.  I will practice, practice, practice.  I am determined. 

Still At Home Sick

Day ten of being sick, and I'm feeling pretty miserable because I'm still in pretty rough shape (slept only two hours last night due to incessant coughing) and tomorrow is Monday.  I went into the office for all of two hours last week, and I have a filing on Tuesday, and I'm interviewing someone tomorrow, so I need to go in tomorrow.  I thought the whole holiday weekend thing would help me recover, but... seems I just got worse! :-p

I digress.

What I actually meant to say is that the side benefit of being sick is being forced to slow down...to stop, in fact... to reflect... to re-evaluate.  To be still.  I appreciate that aspect of illness.  This time around, I've spent a lot of time lying in bed, awake.  Ordinarily I am pretty restless; I like to be busy with things, even if it's being busy doing something relaxing.  Sitting still and doing nothing is not among my fortes.  And yet I have spent MANY hours during this last week doing exactly that.  And in those many many hours, I've been reflecting upon the following:

• This is, in part, what I've been praying for over the last several months.  Things have been going so well and I have been praying daily that even when things start to slip, we will still maintain a posture of gratitude and joy.  God has been answering that prayer.  Of course, we know this illness will pass and there are much greater trials to come.  But I feel that God has used this little hiccup to affirm the value of requests during times of peace for the same strength--and alacrity even--to carry us through times of difficulty. 

• The cross.  The meaning of the Jesus's sacrifice.  How it relates to communion.  How it relates to me.  I've shared before how I struggle with communion.  It's not a very spiritual experience for me, and a lot of times I feel as if I'm just going through the motions without understanding why it is so important, or even how the symbolism really works.  But an "Eat This Book  - Torah" sermon we listened to recently walked us through the whole process of atonement and animal sacrifice in the Old Testament, and it really spoke to me.  Pastor Tim talked about how sin is like our trash, and we can't just let trash accumulate; we have to deal with our trash.  How God deals with trash is by requiring the shedding of innocent blood to cover our sin.  While this sounds violent and gruesome, it just goes to show how serious sin is in God's sight.  In the Old Testament, God allowed a sinner to atone for his sin by bringing a blemish-free animal to the altar, laying his hands on the animal (thus symbolically) transferring his own sin to the animal, and slaying the animal (to pay the debts of the sinner).  The Israelites had to bring sacrifices over and over and over, though...until Jesus came.  As the Lamb of the world, He took away all the sins of the world, for good, with His sacrifice on the cross.  It's not as if I didn't know all this stuff before, but...somehow it makes a lot more sense to me now.  

• The parable of the man who was forgiven a huge debt, but wouldn't turn around and forgive a small debt.  I read this earlier in the week and it really stuck out to me.  I struggle with being judgmental of certain people in my life, and I feel as if God is telling me that I judge them because I haven't forgiven them.  And I must forgive them; after all, I am the man who was forgiven a huge debt! How could I not turn around and forgive a small debt?!  I am still mulling this over, and realizing how much I need God's help to change.

• My husband is more patient and loving than I am.  All week, night after night, I have kept him up with my coughing.  Instead of consoling me during Coughing Bout 1 through 3, then ignoring me in all subsequent Coughing Bouts throughout the night out of annoyance (which is what I would probably do), he consoles me during all of them, all through the night. Every night.  And now I know--yet again--how much more patient and loving he is.  I'm challenged to be better at this wife thing.  Need to outbless my husband!

Time for a nap, methinks.  Or maybe just more lying in bed, with more time to reflect.