the choice we keep making

i sat today in the sun, on my beach (3rd ave, of course), in a stripey old beach chair in a new white bathing suit, with my ipod on, cucumber water cold next to me and "the great divorce" in my hands. there was a tiny breeze. two tiny blonde kids playing in the water ahead. a warm sun just pouring down. i felt perfect, perfect, perfect. i get bored of the idea of perfection a lot of times, because i think that when theres nothing to solve, no light and dark contrasts, no challenge, no ache, its just.... bland. but today's perfection, mixed with early morning prayer with the roomies, meeting holly downtown, working a tiny bit on church stuff, going to bargain barn and buying an amazing old couch and two non matching arm chairs, and riding my bike around town doing errands in 70 degree weather, was full of flavor. it was soaked up. it was right. it was perfect in its everyday ordinary-ness.

"the great divorce" is about heaven and hell and its gnarly. i began reading it like 3 years ago, maybe, and havent finished it. its weird, its less than 200 pages and its taken forever to get through. mostly due to my ADD-book thing i have. but, the central theme so far (in 80 pages) is about heaven and hell and how when we have chosen one, all the other parts of life and death become stages of one or the other... cs says

"But what, you ask, of earth? Earth, I think, will not be found by anyone to be in the end a very distinct place. I think earth, if chosen instead of Heaven, will turn out to have been, all along, only a region in Hell: and earth, if put second to Heaven, to have been from the beginning a part of Heaven itself."

and it got me thinking about the progression of my faith. i have this thing where i want to work so hard, and so fast and so completely on getting DONE with things (example: i have recently been in such a manic state at church with re-doing the offices and completing tasks that have to do with aesthetics, etc) that i can finally just be done, be complete, be finished. i want to work and then be done with it. no progression, no cycles, no seasons. just total work and then total rest. its annoying that i am this way.

something about the concept that we may be in the first stages of heaven here and now, should we chose it, makes me rethink myself. i am on this journey (please, i think as i type, no more journey analogies! but they are so good, though, its unavoidable) and i have tried to chose heaven as i know it and if what cs says in some way is true, then i am going to keep getting closer to the next stage of heaven (in a mysterious sense, i hope this isnt coming off like i am changing my theology) as i keep growing and changing and choosing to follow after God. and, so, in a sense, my work on earth, my growth, my change, my progress, is never done. the more i know or understand or think i know or understand God, the more awareness i have of my need for him, the more awareness i have of my need to live for his Kingdom and to be part of bringing that in some small or big way here and now.

i made a choice to follow God one summer and as i continue to live in the wake of that choice, i realize now that i needing to keep choosing it... because my understanding of the choice keeps changing. it begins to encompass more. its deepening, consuming.

i dont feel like i am being clear.

ok.

i think as i get older in my faith, i am realizing that i am continually learning about what it means to call myself a christian and live as a christian (little christ).

for the first part of my years following jesus, i thought it was choosing the right moral path... not kissing boys i wasnt dating, not getting drunk, not being selfish and self-centered, not gossiping. so i worked hard at that, learned how to tame some of those desires and bad habits... and don't you know it, i have found it relatively easy to stop those little sensual sins from creeping in too often (i am not perfect by any means and am not claiming i havent made mistakes in these areas as a christian, but the mistakes are less frequent and less intense as they were before).

so the next stage of following jesus was serving God in a church setting, reading lots of christian authors, reading my bible and trying to be a "light" to those around me. so, i volunteered at the church for 3 years, almost part time during the summers, read lots and lots of zondervan, tried to learn the bible and talked to my friends in college about jesus and my "relationship" with him. all good things, all helped in my growth, etc etc.

stage 3... mentor, community/bible study and "relationship evangelism" and then even beginning to mentor someone else.... check, check (double check, actually, as i oversee community groups for the church), half check (it could be better, cause now that i work for the church, i barely interact with people outside the church, which makes my heart sad and disconnected), and check (somehow i get to have a rad girl in my life who wants my advice on things, its weird).

ok, so i think now, this month/year/year(s?) i am coming into the next stage, sort of. on the edge of the abyss/black hole/unknown(?) i feel like, even in all the service, and learning, and relating, and growing (and again, ALLLLL these are so good and positive and important, i am not downplaying them), i am still, STILL figuring out how to give every part of me to the One above it all. to live in the inbetween, between dreams and cloudy fog and unformed mass and sorrow and brokeness and work and sad-- and then in those bits of beauty, the real reality (heaven) awaiting me- the flashes of heaven that haunt me in moments of perfection, in moments of connection, moments of "i think im in love", moments of utter rest, moments of joy and moments of eveything's right with the world.

i still don't think i am saying it.

cs famously says in the great divorce:

"If we insist on keeping Hell (or even earth) we shall not see Heaven: if we accept Heaven we shall not be able to retain even the smallest and most intimate souvenirs of Hell."

and i guess what i am saying is i want to dig around under the bed and in the back of the closet and behind the shelf and inbetween the couch cushions and give back my souvenirs.

he spoke

i called grandma and grandpa yesterday to see how things were. grandpa is out of ICU, on the mend, walking the walker all the way down the long hallway and ready to get the hell out of there (his words). grandma's rich, vintage voice was perked when she answered the phone in their lovenest/retirement home room they now share and told me all about how she was so proud of her "sweet william" who had returned to sleep next to her (in another bed) for the first time in years (they couldnt sleep in the same bed cause of her health problems) in their room they now share.

he came on the phone, "hi kris" not remembering much of our visit and so ready to be out of that hospital and now so ready to be out of that retirement home. he was shakey in voice, but it was his voice. HIS VOICE, finally, not just whispers, but solidly, his voice. i told him how i had been praying for him and he lit up, his demeanor feeling a bit like it did in the hospital the first time i saw him there, and he was so grateful. he soaks up your prayers, thanks for reading and praying for them both.

grandma has plans for their life there, their life home and their life after this, she says.

fumes

last night, i went to sleep with my newly painted, vintage, bought for 5 dollars from bargain barn nightstand by my bed side. up late with no dinner made my head achey as i drifted off to sleep, but i would be fine if i got some waffles in me first thing. when i got up this morning, my head was pounding, aching worse and i felt dizzy. as i ate in front of the heater reading my email, my head wouldnt stop hurting. i realized i had coated that night stand with a clear protective coating the day before that hadnt dried all the way and i was breathing in fumes from it all night. after that long night of unhealthy breathing, my brain cells were corrupted, altered, pounding, that inside your head headache that doesnt go away with water and advil. by about 6pm, it began to subside and as i drove home from my meeting (5.5 hours, a new record), i realized it was all because of breathing in bad things i had no idea were getting inside of me.

just had to say...

....that tonight was one of the best nights of ministry ever.

not cause lots of stuff was solved or organized or figure out....but you get 4 people together, with similar passions and vision, big hearts for people and God, that college/post college 20 something idealism, mixed with a vague sense of hipster awareness and cultural saavy, and something magic happens.

mostly, though, it has to do with God's spirit. And His choice to bless us with each other and a chance to make a difference.

i
love
my
job.

i sat listening to your prayers and imagined us all somewhere else someday, doing different things, in different places, with different people, knowing that each of us would loook back on this time, even this moment, and remember it as when something started.



what do we call this thing? josh suggested "love wins"... its jacked from rob bell, but i think he'd be ok if we used it for something so kick-a.

losing your mind at 1am

things come out so much better late at night, i have so much honesty in here.

i wish i was cohesive enough to have a larger theory about things. what would i say, if i were going to give a message to everyone, whats my theory? whats my saying? whats my thing?

i am finding that i often think i know what that thing is, and i live on it for a while, only to outgrow it for something else. i am making no sense, but as i write, it feels good. sometimes only a picture, a light, an image, a song, music and words written out on paper in a meandering manner can say what you mean to say. i talk a lot a lot a lot, say so many things, figure out so much, analyze critique understand, come to so many conclusions. but in the end,

i

don't

know.

i want to keep going with this idea about songs saying something, poetry/stream of conscious/cryptic statement saying something, art in general saying something... because they do, don't they? why does the way a room looks put together in such a way say so much? why do lyrics to melodies to choruses to hooks make me feel better, worse, moved, loved, part of and outside? why do these fingers tap tap tapping make so much sense?

why have i started so many books i have not finished?

why does one day feel so good and the next...?

why does it take so long to feel this way?

why are hearts so easily bruised?

why, in the sun coming down and the warmth, am i whole?

why, the next second, so much frustration and confusion.

no conclusions. just more songs, more looks, more subtlety, more imagery and more of what you can't quite say but you just feel.

he is one hungry soul

((late night randomness without cohesion))


so my grandma says grandpa can't eat anything, not even jell-o. they still can't see each other, she in the nursing home, he in the icu. he had one of his first lucid conversations this weekend, which makes me happy.... last week, it became almost unbearable for me to imagine him spending that last part of his life without being able to actually talk to anyone, especially his kids, clearly.

grandma says this is the hardest time of their whole lives, both of them being so sick. and this sounds so dramatic to type out, to share... but she is on month 3 of her 3-6 months the docs gave her till her heart gives out. we always thought she would be the first one to go, having been sick so long, but now grandpa isnt doing too well either. all grandma wants is for them to be at home, like it was before and for her to be able to lay in the bed next to him. she has even told my dad she will be the one to take care of him, thats right all 20% of her functioning heart caring for the man shes been married to for 53 years, who has taken care of her for most of those years.

all this makes me see death more clearly, or i guess you could say makes me see death as reality, not some far-away thing. i dont think i have ever endured the suffering of having death around me all the time or the suffering of knowing its so near. even just being in such proximity to it now is jarring. dan spoke about it today for easter, the reality of death and reality of eternal choices. i just dont know how anyone can endure the sort of suffering my grandparents are in-- or how they can endure the suffering thats felt a million ways in a million people in a million places all over over the world-- without the hope of a life after this. how?


i drove my car over the hill today and thought about how much i love my grandparents, but how i dont see them very much. and how much of their love is actually formative love, love that made me who i am-- they were around for the first 5 years of my life and loved me so much and spent so much time with me, that i feel so strongly they were a huge part of building my foundation and self-awareness and self worth. and i thought about how i love them so much, but its often at a distance and often out of memory. then i looked at the cars around me, and thought that i dont really know the people driving aorund me, but some part of me does love them, since they are people and i have a basic love for humanity. but i love them only as we drive in a pack along a windy road, slowing for accidents and curbs, taking exits and disappearing. and i thought about how much i love my parents, who i see all the time and who are such a huge part of my life and who are in an ongoing relationship with me and know my details and news and updates and ups and downs, how their love is present, daily, there. and i thought about how maybe sometimes our loving of God is a lot like how we love the people around us. maybe sometimes we love at a distance, maybe sometimes we love like we know we will pull of at the next exit... maybe sometimes we love daily, in the present, in the details.

i listened to a song in my car today and it sung " i wanna live and i wanna breathe, to search out your heart and all of your mystery"-- and i got to thinking about God's mystery and how i have spent 7 years getting to know God and still dont know even a tiny percent of him, but how i have given up, in some ways, trying to search out his mystery, since i feel like He can't show me anything new any more-- except more examples of the things i already get. either i am in for big disappointment or a big surprise or a big fat fall on my face....

grandma says grandpa is one hungry soul and i liked how she said it, because my soul is hungry, too