a ministry of redemption is what she says i have and i like the way that feels to say. its what i find myself saying to people who bring me stories of sorrow and brokenness... that God redeems all things. its the path of my understanding about God's will and plan-- that despite all our wondering and planning and seeming wrong turns, He redeems all things. its what i turn to in deep sadness, when i can't find reason-- the promise of once redemption, present redemption, redemption to come.
i began the day today so badly. a night prior just so caught in my head and held down. getting stuck on stupid projects forever and not satisfied with any part of life. restless sleep and a morning of guilty bad mood and sore feet, i was not ready for anything at 2pm but sleep and nothing.
but then came a sunny meeting at starbucks about the darkest of things ready for redemption by the people called for times like this, which is always. a set of agreements follow and we find ourselves with a decision and direction we didnt know would come so soon. and its all fallen into place, suddenly and unexpectedly. a bad day redeemed.
all these edges of something i keep expecting to find under my feet and in front of me seem to point towards an 8 conclusion. This month, i celebrate 7 years since i stepped into this life of following Jesus. July 2000, everything changed- it was the start of a new millennium for our world and it was the start of my new life. Now, seven years later, i find myself on the cusp of something new, a new way of relating to and loving and living for the God who never seems to run out of ways to surprise me. Joann says 7 represents sabbath and 8 is new, ready, fresh. this seems right.
http://notforsalecampaign.org/
http://www.concerttoendslavery.com/
Monday, July 30, 2007
Saturday, July 07, 2007
rounding out the top 10...
6. though dad had to endure the brunt of the downside of these, i love long car rides. more, i love long stretches of nothingness. so many hours were spent sitting a car or plane, staring, thinking, not thinking, reading, listening, writing. its my little busy bodies only way to rest sometimes and i felt so glad to just have so many long stretches of this nothing. what makes these so perfect are that the scenery as you stared felt out of a dream and made your thoughts different, roaming, expansive, but also familiar, close.
7. heaven was rolling into queenstown on day 13, after a million stops in smaller towns to see the sites and have some site-specific adventures (town of 500 for glacier hiking in the pouring rain, anyone?). situated by a lake and surrounded on all sides by dramatic dark mountains, the nighttime view of queenstown was beautiful- serene and exciting all at once. but the moment became better when we woke up the next morning to find that we were actually living in a postcard. The colors and views and perfection of this townhouse in this town were almost too much. The lake was sprawling, rivaled only by the horizon filled with green, lush mountains and more mountains beyond them, set right next to the snowcapped peaks as seen in the LOTR trilogy (yes, literally, it was those mountains). everyday, we couldnt get enough of this scenery and marvelled each morning as if it were the first time seen.
8. there a things you think you always want to do and when you finally do them, realize how much they were both not what you expected and more than what you expected. balloon rides at sunrise are one of them.
not what i expected: the frigid morning air to be so refreshing; the stupid things that i said to the attractive assistant due to extreme fatigue ("it was so cold, it was like negative zero!", "do you need training to professionally drive a jet boat at high speeds?"); the deeply affecting fear that seized me as our balloon effortlessly and silently ascended into the air to 6,000 feet, giving us views that cannot be recounted, but terrorizing my overactive mind that kept imagining the fall we could easily take should we chose; the descent to landing's silence, that it was perfectly placed and barely missed power lines and a major roadway
more than i expected: seeing everything you could want to see in perfect clarity, in brilliant light, in a thousand colors and tones and hues, for miles and miles and miles, it seems to be expected, but its so much more.
9. in my attempt at health and working off the large amount of (suprisingly quality) food we consumed, i joined my siblings and dad for a run around the lake one morning. we began at the same pace and that maintained for about 6 minutes before i began to get winded and slow down. my dad and i stayed together while my (surprisingly tall) brother and sister raced ahead. soon enough, though, my dad outpaced me. so there i was, my younger siblings and dad (with a knee injury) were out of site and my chest burned and ached from the run. between gasps and walking breaks, i experienced moments of awe and disbelief at my surroundings, again too beauitful for words. The music was perfect in my ears again, jose gonzales this time. as soon as i reached the towns edge and my family passed me up again after having gone farther into town, i stopped trying and just walked a long walk home. i practiced the presence of my god and tried to talk to Him like this would be my 'quiet time', but it felt wrong.
you are with me all the time, i said to him, and i feel wrong trying to make it seem like now is the only time.
i am with you all the time, you see, He said, and i already know your thoughts. ok?
ok.
so we were with each other, in all this perfection, both listening and seeing all the same things. deep back into nothing, then lingering and skipping around, my thoughts just rested in this presence. in there, i was deeply content.
10. the last night of our trip was a night on the town. my sister, brother and i went to a bunch of bars and clubs and as they slowly drank the night away, i was bored, glad to be sober, annoyed at the drunken culture, increasingly worried about them at best making a mess of themselves or at worse, getting into varying levels of trouble. though stable in my choice not to drink, i felt the like the bland, deadweight sidekick and i never thought things would look up until we made it to the last bar, which had karaoke and hundreds of people our age. the night turned around completely after we made friends with a group of canadians, then a couple australian girls, one brit boy from bath and a dreadlocked spanish/british dancer from scotland and we felt part of this transient family of friends. the high point hit when the karaoke singers had the whole bar belting out "wonderwall" and the high point sustained for about 2 hours as the whole bard turned into a giant dance floor, with us somehow in the middle. from my sober standpoint, i avoided the embarassing confusion of drunken dancing and socializing, but i did dance and dance and dance and made friend and laughed and sang till my voice cracked. when all was said and done, 4am rolled around and i felt alive.
7. heaven was rolling into queenstown on day 13, after a million stops in smaller towns to see the sites and have some site-specific adventures (town of 500 for glacier hiking in the pouring rain, anyone?). situated by a lake and surrounded on all sides by dramatic dark mountains, the nighttime view of queenstown was beautiful- serene and exciting all at once. but the moment became better when we woke up the next morning to find that we were actually living in a postcard. The colors and views and perfection of this townhouse in this town were almost too much. The lake was sprawling, rivaled only by the horizon filled with green, lush mountains and more mountains beyond them, set right next to the snowcapped peaks as seen in the LOTR trilogy (yes, literally, it was those mountains). everyday, we couldnt get enough of this scenery and marvelled each morning as if it were the first time seen.
8. there a things you think you always want to do and when you finally do them, realize how much they were both not what you expected and more than what you expected. balloon rides at sunrise are one of them.
not what i expected: the frigid morning air to be so refreshing; the stupid things that i said to the attractive assistant due to extreme fatigue ("it was so cold, it was like negative zero!", "do you need training to professionally drive a jet boat at high speeds?"); the deeply affecting fear that seized me as our balloon effortlessly and silently ascended into the air to 6,000 feet, giving us views that cannot be recounted, but terrorizing my overactive mind that kept imagining the fall we could easily take should we chose; the descent to landing's silence, that it was perfectly placed and barely missed power lines and a major roadway
more than i expected: seeing everything you could want to see in perfect clarity, in brilliant light, in a thousand colors and tones and hues, for miles and miles and miles, it seems to be expected, but its so much more.
9. in my attempt at health and working off the large amount of (suprisingly quality) food we consumed, i joined my siblings and dad for a run around the lake one morning. we began at the same pace and that maintained for about 6 minutes before i began to get winded and slow down. my dad and i stayed together while my (surprisingly tall) brother and sister raced ahead. soon enough, though, my dad outpaced me. so there i was, my younger siblings and dad (with a knee injury) were out of site and my chest burned and ached from the run. between gasps and walking breaks, i experienced moments of awe and disbelief at my surroundings, again too beauitful for words. The music was perfect in my ears again, jose gonzales this time. as soon as i reached the towns edge and my family passed me up again after having gone farther into town, i stopped trying and just walked a long walk home. i practiced the presence of my god and tried to talk to Him like this would be my 'quiet time', but it felt wrong.
you are with me all the time, i said to him, and i feel wrong trying to make it seem like now is the only time.
i am with you all the time, you see, He said, and i already know your thoughts. ok?
ok.
so we were with each other, in all this perfection, both listening and seeing all the same things. deep back into nothing, then lingering and skipping around, my thoughts just rested in this presence. in there, i was deeply content.
10. the last night of our trip was a night on the town. my sister, brother and i went to a bunch of bars and clubs and as they slowly drank the night away, i was bored, glad to be sober, annoyed at the drunken culture, increasingly worried about them at best making a mess of themselves or at worse, getting into varying levels of trouble. though stable in my choice not to drink, i felt the like the bland, deadweight sidekick and i never thought things would look up until we made it to the last bar, which had karaoke and hundreds of people our age. the night turned around completely after we made friends with a group of canadians, then a couple australian girls, one brit boy from bath and a dreadlocked spanish/british dancer from scotland and we felt part of this transient family of friends. the high point hit when the karaoke singers had the whole bar belting out "wonderwall" and the high point sustained for about 2 hours as the whole bard turned into a giant dance floor, with us somehow in the middle. from my sober standpoint, i avoided the embarassing confusion of drunken dancing and socializing, but i did dance and dance and dance and made friend and laughed and sang till my voice cracked. when all was said and done, 4am rolled around and i felt alive.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
new zealand top 5 so far
Top 5 highlights so far, in no particular order:
1. the moment before we dropped into a mile long zip line across two huge, green mountains with a stunning view of the bright blue coastline and emerald farmlands. Four of us strapped into a crazy cylinder swing in the open air, our quiet, mischievous tour guide counted to 3 and then we were speeding out into the middle of nothing, at 77kph, the views unreal, the views like nothing you can compare to anything. My face bright with cold and painful from the smiling and screaming. Our shadow on the tree tops grew smaller the farther we went on the zipline and the realization of certain death should we fall mixed with the shear amazing ness of the surroundings created a tight, pounding pit in my stomach. We giggled the entire way.
2. Speeding through the same zipline mountains on a 4 wheeler, mud splashing all over from the puddles and rivers we crossed, feeling the vehicle i am on pull me back and forth around the twists and turns, feeling the tom boy i was when i was little surge in me and scream with excitement and joy. Passing crowds of sheep and ducks in the green rolling shire setting, seeing the sweet black and white sheep dog chasing us through the water and barking like we were his. Around and around and around, we did this forever and it was just right.
3. Riding a jet boat out into the sea, we headed for Abel Tasman national park for a 3 day hike/kayak. I listened to Milosh, some obscure techno/ambient band from goodness knows where, supplied by a person with far better musical taste than i, and we saw a few dolphins cruising in our wake. I was happy for this, as we had missed our whale watching trip a couple days earlier, due to bad weather. Suddenly, though, the boat guides turned directions and headed off our course and we saw what seemed to be tiny waves and tiny fins grow and grow until we were in and among hundreds and hundreds of dolphins. The music swelled, as if perfectly sound tracked for this moment. Piano played perfectly in time with the dolphins leaping all around and no one on the boat could talk, its all too beautiful to say anything. And i just listened, the voice to the music sang to me “oh, i love it here, i hope it goes my way, i'm trying to do something beautiful,” and to every side of me, the dolphns, they leaped, close, close, you can almost touch. 2, 5, 10, 17, 23, i gave up counting, and they swam in perfect time with us and almost knew, yes yes, we are beautiful, we are right here, we are here for you. It did not last moments, a full 10-12 minutes, we just raced with them and they let us have their beauty.
4. After a long and satisfying day of boating and hiking in the Abel Tasman and then waiting on a shore where the tide came in about 2 inches a minute toward us and then walking into the freezing water to a boat waiting to take us across this approaching water, we found ourselves on the opposite shore, climbing toward green and a warm light, the lodge we would stay in that night. When it all came into focus, it was the most perfect, ideal house i have seen in so long, done in the style of victorian era, maybe, but it was all new and just perfect. The warm light it gave just piercing me after such cold and everything inside it just so perfect, huge coaches, clean kitchen, simple bedrooms, cozy nooks, family pictures of the owners, a jack Russell terrier skipping around with a red bandanna on his neck. I kept saying, this place is perfect, this place is perfect. The yard went right to the edge of a small cliff that jutted down into the beach, green grass, perfectly enclosed, with a wrap around porch, and paths leading to perfect reading spots and a view of the perfect skyline, ocean, mountains, sky, forever.
5. Day 2 of Abel Tasman, the 2nd lodge, sitting in front of the fire, taking in “What is the What”, my sister leaning against me, reading “People”, my brother to the other side, reading “Popular Mechanics.” Everyone else scattered on the coaches, everything quiet and peaceful, us warm to the frosty outside, seriously resting, seriously contented.
There is more, just you wait.
1. the moment before we dropped into a mile long zip line across two huge, green mountains with a stunning view of the bright blue coastline and emerald farmlands. Four of us strapped into a crazy cylinder swing in the open air, our quiet, mischievous tour guide counted to 3 and then we were speeding out into the middle of nothing, at 77kph, the views unreal, the views like nothing you can compare to anything. My face bright with cold and painful from the smiling and screaming. Our shadow on the tree tops grew smaller the farther we went on the zipline and the realization of certain death should we fall mixed with the shear amazing ness of the surroundings created a tight, pounding pit in my stomach. We giggled the entire way.
2. Speeding through the same zipline mountains on a 4 wheeler, mud splashing all over from the puddles and rivers we crossed, feeling the vehicle i am on pull me back and forth around the twists and turns, feeling the tom boy i was when i was little surge in me and scream with excitement and joy. Passing crowds of sheep and ducks in the green rolling shire setting, seeing the sweet black and white sheep dog chasing us through the water and barking like we were his. Around and around and around, we did this forever and it was just right.
3. Riding a jet boat out into the sea, we headed for Abel Tasman national park for a 3 day hike/kayak. I listened to Milosh, some obscure techno/ambient band from goodness knows where, supplied by a person with far better musical taste than i, and we saw a few dolphins cruising in our wake. I was happy for this, as we had missed our whale watching trip a couple days earlier, due to bad weather. Suddenly, though, the boat guides turned directions and headed off our course and we saw what seemed to be tiny waves and tiny fins grow and grow until we were in and among hundreds and hundreds of dolphins. The music swelled, as if perfectly sound tracked for this moment. Piano played perfectly in time with the dolphins leaping all around and no one on the boat could talk, its all too beautiful to say anything. And i just listened, the voice to the music sang to me “oh, i love it here, i hope it goes my way, i'm trying to do something beautiful,” and to every side of me, the dolphns, they leaped, close, close, you can almost touch. 2, 5, 10, 17, 23, i gave up counting, and they swam in perfect time with us and almost knew, yes yes, we are beautiful, we are right here, we are here for you. It did not last moments, a full 10-12 minutes, we just raced with them and they let us have their beauty.
4. After a long and satisfying day of boating and hiking in the Abel Tasman and then waiting on a shore where the tide came in about 2 inches a minute toward us and then walking into the freezing water to a boat waiting to take us across this approaching water, we found ourselves on the opposite shore, climbing toward green and a warm light, the lodge we would stay in that night. When it all came into focus, it was the most perfect, ideal house i have seen in so long, done in the style of victorian era, maybe, but it was all new and just perfect. The warm light it gave just piercing me after such cold and everything inside it just so perfect, huge coaches, clean kitchen, simple bedrooms, cozy nooks, family pictures of the owners, a jack Russell terrier skipping around with a red bandanna on his neck. I kept saying, this place is perfect, this place is perfect. The yard went right to the edge of a small cliff that jutted down into the beach, green grass, perfectly enclosed, with a wrap around porch, and paths leading to perfect reading spots and a view of the perfect skyline, ocean, mountains, sky, forever.
5. Day 2 of Abel Tasman, the 2nd lodge, sitting in front of the fire, taking in “What is the What”, my sister leaning against me, reading “People”, my brother to the other side, reading “Popular Mechanics.” Everyone else scattered on the coaches, everything quiet and peaceful, us warm to the frosty outside, seriously resting, seriously contented.
There is more, just you wait.
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