another funeral this winter... my other grandma this time, grandma betty. she had been my absolute favorite as a kid, we just had the most fun together and adored each other to bits. she had been sick since before i can remember and every year we wondered if this would be her last. we had been expecting this for so long that when the phone call finally came in, i was shocked and relieved at the same time. she hadn't been living for so long... it seemed to me that she just sort of existed much of the time, my grandpa at her side feeding her, giving her pills, helping her dress and undress. her life seemed vivid and awake only when she would talk to us or when she had visitors or when she got to go out to dinner or the occasional big party. my perception of her life between these events or moments was one of monotony and difficulty and pain and longing.
watching my grandpa these last few days, i think my idea of her boring monotonous "life" between visits may have been wrong. grandpa bill, once lanky, strong, and stoic, is almost unrecognizable under the weight of the last year. this man, this man who once seemed to be able to take care of everyone (even my own dad) and do so without missing a beat, can hardly make it an hour without crying. and all he can do is talk about how much he misses her, how much he wants to see her, how he thought she would come back from this one. its so strange to watch someone once so strong and capable, become someone who is now utterly breakable, someone who seems to have had all the life and energy drained from him.
watching him, its breaking my heart... but, a few days in, i am now seeing that this is the result of loving someone for almost 60 years, loving them through every imaginable physical ailment over 20 years, loving them despite extreme lows, loving them through kids and grandkids, loving them as you travel and explore and build together, loving them in the boring everyday-ness of life... this deep sadness is due to this deep love.
and so maybe, though my grandma's life seemed to brighten up so much in our presence, her steady, solid, lasting marriage was this sustained liveliness that kept her going. maybe it wasn't always the high of her granchildren's constant presence, or the hope of a healthy body, or the desire for the ability to travel (all things she desperately wished she had)... maybe what she had every day, day in and day out, with her everloving bill, maybe she fought for that just as much.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
in the mess
i guess i once said something to the effect of:
its not like you ever figure out all your issues-- you just learn over the years to navigate the mess.
i was surprised by that statement, because i am not impressed with much that i say- except that that seemed like something truer than i could have known at the time. and its so true now.
here i am in my room. raining outside, cold outside (i haaaate cold), my feet at the heater, candles lit, wearing 3 layers of warmth. my room is destroyed.
boxes of christmas gifts unwrapped, laying on one corner. my bed piled with pillows and un-put-away clothes i couldn't decide about early this morning. my floor scattered with boots i need to keep my constantly cold feet from completely freezing. all my bills and important papers fill my dresser and a stack of half made christmas cards on my chair. my purse upside down. my closet a mess. my bed unmade.
here i am in the mess.
i have learned so much recently-- all the things i wrote about in may on my cottage castle rereat have become more real... and their reasons clearer. but this time, the consequences of waiting to deal with them almost became too much. and i almost went down. but, by the hand of community and the grace of my life's Author, the chapter kept going and is being written.
it doesn't mean its all easy. the mess is still here... but i am learning to be more ok with the messes presence, to understand its not as scary or overwhelming or powerful as i had once let it be. maybe its simply naming it. like, when you see a pile of something gross and you can't figure out what it is, it makes it that much grosser. like a pile of rotting food could look like other things (you know other things...) and then when you realize its just old food, you arent as grossed out. Our big piles of stuff look way more forbidding in the dark-- what IS that massive lump? What's in it? What underneath it-- then you turn on the light and realize its just a bunch of clothes you didnt put away. what we don't know always seems so much worse.
i am a mess.
or, rather, i am aware of my mess. and i see it for what it is... and what it is not. and i am ok with it, because i know i am not defined by it. its just a part of me that will always be there til i get to be made completely Whole one day.
god bless this mess.
its not like you ever figure out all your issues-- you just learn over the years to navigate the mess.
i was surprised by that statement, because i am not impressed with much that i say- except that that seemed like something truer than i could have known at the time. and its so true now.
here i am in my room. raining outside, cold outside (i haaaate cold), my feet at the heater, candles lit, wearing 3 layers of warmth. my room is destroyed.
boxes of christmas gifts unwrapped, laying on one corner. my bed piled with pillows and un-put-away clothes i couldn't decide about early this morning. my floor scattered with boots i need to keep my constantly cold feet from completely freezing. all my bills and important papers fill my dresser and a stack of half made christmas cards on my chair. my purse upside down. my closet a mess. my bed unmade.
here i am in the mess.
i have learned so much recently-- all the things i wrote about in may on my cottage castle rereat have become more real... and their reasons clearer. but this time, the consequences of waiting to deal with them almost became too much. and i almost went down. but, by the hand of community and the grace of my life's Author, the chapter kept going and is being written.
it doesn't mean its all easy. the mess is still here... but i am learning to be more ok with the messes presence, to understand its not as scary or overwhelming or powerful as i had once let it be. maybe its simply naming it. like, when you see a pile of something gross and you can't figure out what it is, it makes it that much grosser. like a pile of rotting food could look like other things (you know other things...) and then when you realize its just old food, you arent as grossed out. Our big piles of stuff look way more forbidding in the dark-- what IS that massive lump? What's in it? What underneath it-- then you turn on the light and realize its just a bunch of clothes you didnt put away. what we don't know always seems so much worse.
i am a mess.
or, rather, i am aware of my mess. and i see it for what it is... and what it is not. and i am ok with it, because i know i am not defined by it. its just a part of me that will always be there til i get to be made completely Whole one day.
god bless this mess.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
go see CALL+RESPONSE
images are powerful and word of mouth is stronger than almost anything, so i hope this helps you make the effort to go see this film:
for show times, check out: http://callandresponse.com/tickets.html
i promise if you do, i will be your friend and comment on your blog more often :)
for show times, check out: http://callandresponse.com/tickets.html
i promise if you do, i will be your friend and comment on your blog more often :)
Sunday, August 10, 2008
the flying
reading john maxwell for work, i didn't think i would like it at all. i was worried it would be too corporate and too mega-church and too much. but there is some good stuff. i haven't read the whole thing, like i was supposed to, but so far, its actually been inspiring.one of the best metaphors so far has been that of why birds fly in a V shape. as i type this (and as i have typed my last blog) i sit at the bay windows of my housesitting house (which has an ocean view!) and i have seen at least a dozen flocks of birds flying in a V shape. As i watch them, i see even more depth to the metaphor.
well first, the original metaphor:
apparently, by spacing themselves apart properly and flying in a V formation,
"birds can achieve optimum positions that reduce the drag of every bird in the formation.
However, not all birds benefit equally. Even though the V formation benefits all of the birds, the bird in the lead position has to work the hardest. When this bird tires, it will drop out of the lead position and fall further back into one of the lines of the V. Another bird from further back will rapidly move forward to take the leading position and maintain the formation.
The two birds in the furthest trailing positions also tire more rapidly than those in the middle, so these positions are also rotated frequently to spread the most fatiguing locations throughout the flock.
This cyclical rearrangement gives all birds the responsibility of being the leader as well as a chance to enjoy the maximum benefits of being in the middle of the formation. This sense of teamwork comes naturally since even the youngest members of the flock rapidly realize that it takes less work to fly in a V formation than it does to fly alone."
so, the metaphor works perfectly when we talk about working together as opposed to apart. when we are with other people, when we work together, we experience less "drag," we (ideally) share responsibility because leading is very tiring and, in the end, we can fly better and stronger since, apparently,
"studies have estimated that a flock of 25 birds in formation can fly as much as 70% further than a solo bird using the same amount of energy"
i love this.
looking at these birds flying in formation, i noticed that the front bird will be flapping then stop and coast for a bit, soaring on the momentum it has created... and as this front bird is coasting, the next birds back will begin flapping, using the momentum the front bird created to help their flapping. then as they coast, the next birds will pick up their momentum, and so on. this makes sense as to why the front "leader" bird gets tired more quickly... but creation in all its intention and beauty has given these birds the instinct to allow that front position to be rotated so that that one bird doesn't get too tired. so really, its not that one bird that gives all others the momentum, its the flock together that makes them be able to fly this way.
in my own "leadership," my wings are so tired because i (mostly subconsciously) don't trust that another bird taking leadership can do what i do. i am so afraid of failing or falling behind that i just fly and fly. sometimes i look back and feel i have lost half the flock because of my refusal to give up my spot. i don't do this intentionally. but i do it, because it seems easier. but in the end, its worse for everyone.
i don't want this anymore.
in all thats swimming in my head right now with what i am learning with leadership and structure from all these different place, i feel like i want answers or clarity or something very concrete to guide my way and make this all make sense and get it going.
but first, perhaps, i need to see my own fault, my own shortcomings.
the incessant patterns
i'm starting to realize the probably incredibly obvious truth about the incessant patterns we experience as human beings. i began getting into this idea a few years ago when i started to live on my own and started realizing how doing chores around the house is this never ending cycle, this pattern that is incessant, and truly inescapable. as good as it feels to get the bathroom spotless, all the dishes done, the living room just right, the trash taken out, make it all sparkling and perfect.... you have to do it again the next week, or in two weeks or whatever level of cleanliness you desire.
this is the same as laundry.
as getting our hair cut(/colored/styled for those of us who are picky about hair)
as working out (which is something i never do and i know that is going to catch up with me).
as eating.
as sleeping.
as clipping our toe nails.
as celebrating birthdays.
as having horrible days.
as having wonderful days.
as getting sick. and then better again.
as hurting people and having to have make up talks.
and on and on.
being a person who thrives on crossing things off of lists, this obvious truth is very difficult to deal with. i want to just be done. i want completion, a sense of being finished. though process and journey are all things i *say* i believe in, the deep down truth is i want things finished. so that i can move on to something new, so that i can feel a sense of pride that i finished something, so that i can feel successful in the next venture i take on.
this mentality, unless i am become an accountant or something, will not work. i work with people, developing leaders and ministries as an imperfect person for imperfect people. things are not nice and not cut and dry (where does that expression come from anyway?). things are a mess and are mostly non-linear. and a lot does not make sense to me. some things that seem destined for greatness fail and somethings destined to fail rise up to become great. sometimes i feel like nothing in the world is better than what i have right now and sometimes i feel so miserable and unsure that i want to give up.
i am having trouble making sense of it all.
i sat in on a class on renewing and restoring relationships. the teacher made the brilliant point that we, as people, need patterns- we rely on them. if we aren't able to see patterns and live in patterns, we would go crazy. it doesn't mean we live by our patterns alone, but we need the consistency they provide. it helps us make sense of what we are experiencing.
as much as I don't fully understand it, God made everything around us in continuous patterns or to function by patterns... the seasons cycle winter spring summer fall; the ecosystem sun, light, photosynthesis, water, soil, growth, fruit, decompose, break down, regrow. cells multiply, multiply, multiply, multiply. bodies grow born grow strengthen grow expand grow stronger grow mature grow recreate.
incessant.
endless.
this is the same as laundry.
as getting our hair cut(/colored/styled for those of us who are picky about hair)
as working out (which is something i never do and i know that is going to catch up with me).
as eating.
as sleeping.
as clipping our toe nails.
as celebrating birthdays.
as having horrible days.
as having wonderful days.
as getting sick. and then better again.
as hurting people and having to have make up talks.
and on and on.
being a person who thrives on crossing things off of lists, this obvious truth is very difficult to deal with. i want to just be done. i want completion, a sense of being finished. though process and journey are all things i *say* i believe in, the deep down truth is i want things finished. so that i can move on to something new, so that i can feel a sense of pride that i finished something, so that i can feel successful in the next venture i take on.
this mentality, unless i am become an accountant or something, will not work. i work with people, developing leaders and ministries as an imperfect person for imperfect people. things are not nice and not cut and dry (where does that expression come from anyway?). things are a mess and are mostly non-linear. and a lot does not make sense to me. some things that seem destined for greatness fail and somethings destined to fail rise up to become great. sometimes i feel like nothing in the world is better than what i have right now and sometimes i feel so miserable and unsure that i want to give up.
i am having trouble making sense of it all.
i sat in on a class on renewing and restoring relationships. the teacher made the brilliant point that we, as people, need patterns- we rely on them. if we aren't able to see patterns and live in patterns, we would go crazy. it doesn't mean we live by our patterns alone, but we need the consistency they provide. it helps us make sense of what we are experiencing.
as much as I don't fully understand it, God made everything around us in continuous patterns or to function by patterns... the seasons cycle winter spring summer fall; the ecosystem sun, light, photosynthesis, water, soil, growth, fruit, decompose, break down, regrow. cells multiply, multiply, multiply, multiply. bodies grow born grow strengthen grow expand grow stronger grow mature grow recreate.
incessant.
endless.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
day two: cottage castle retreat
Day two of “Befriending the Stranger” became perfect for day two of this retreat.
I spent part of day two writing, showering, driving and trying to find a warm, cozy spot in the Pebble Beach resort to sit and read some more. But this proved difficult because their café was closed and it was cold outside even on that nice terrace overlooking the ocean-side green that seemed inviting and I assumed would promise some outdoor heaters for its elite clientèle. Sitting out there, I listened to the golfer/tourists talk about all sorts of inane things that angered me, such as the rice shortage being fake and naming all the different cars one has. I tried to ignore them and read McSweeney’s and the election coverage in the paper, which I liked doing, because it felt good to flip open the paper and feel informed and part of things. Besides this brief hour on the cold terrace, I spent the day worried I wasn’t doing enough—I had a stack of books I brought (probably like 15), and a list of things to blog about and a handful of DVD’s to watch and then the whole praying business I came for in the first place. As I meandered home feeling defeated that I could only make it one hour on the cold terrace, I felt anxious and unproductive. I wondered which books I should read. I worried over what I would write. Am I doing what I am supposed to here, God?
I decided that since Vanier had been good to me last night, I would continue in that vain. Plus, I would feel good to maybe make it half way through this book.
And yes, Vanier was good to me;
That is why the Lord says:
‘For I will remove the names of Ba’als from her mouth’ (Hos 2:17)
which means,
‘I will take away all those things that have become idols for you,
the thing that you worship in place of God;
things that have taken on too much importance,
such as money, efficiency, know-how, reputation,
even friendship and community.
You have put your trust in them instead of in me.’
Reading this, I realized that even in my pursuit of a “spiritual retreat”, I let my idols of productivity, of busy-ness and of efficiency come in the way, causing anxiety and doubt about my time here to just eat away at any joy and peace I was hoping would come out of it. And of course, in reading this, there is the realization that in so many ways I let idols take the place of my worship of God… all of the above, and then some. Seeing this reality, letting it set itself in my heart, was a relief.
To see again that my poverty is always present makes the love God has for me that much more astonishing. I beat myself up now and almost always, with the feeling that I am never done. I am a compulsive list maker and long for the day when everything is crossed off the list. But its not ever done, those lists. I want to be a good friend, who keeps up on quality time, and phone calls and emails and correspondence, and no matter how much I try, there is always more. I long to be a prolific writer, keeping up on blogs, writing articles one day, perhaps even a book at some point… but I can barely blog once a month. These, to some extent, are just surface things, but there are a hundred more ways I feel I don’t measure up- my sensitive ego, my insatiable need to please others, my selfish hoarding of my time and resources, to name a few.
Vanier sums it up well:
"We tend to think that it is impossible for God to call us
and to love us as we are today.
We feel we are not good enough,
that we are totally unworthy of that love."
But he goes on:
"Yet if we listen, God constantly reminds us:
'I love you just as you are
and I am calling you today, ‘come and be with me.’
You may have been unfaithful at times
Because you forgot me;
that is why I am leading you once more into the wilderness
so that you can understand how much I love you
and so that you may know me.”
Let us take time to listen to God.
Perhaps we can just sit down near a tree
And hear God say to us
‘you are beloved
you are precious in my eyes and I love you.’
And this, this is what I needed to read, today, this moment. The truth of this lead me to pray, to really pray and let out my heart—to recognize all of my imperfections and bask in the truth that God loves me in the midst of them. To speak to him about all the things on my heart, all the people I care for, all the worries I have over my work and my future and my heart. To pray out of a place of knowing and taking in the love of God – this is what I wanted. And what I want to continue.
I often worry that when I share who Jesus is to me with someone who may not believe in Him as the son of God, that I will come across as insincere, or lacking in tough life experience. I worry that the gravity of my own little life won’t have much weight to someone who has had it tougher than I have had. Again Vanier speaks to this in relaying a story about one day when he spoke to a prison about God’s love. One prisoner challenged him, saying that Vanier had had and easy life, that he couldn’t possibly understand the difficulty of the lives of the prisoners there. The prisoner listed the events of his disastrous childhood- rape and prostitution and imprisonment. To this Vanier was silenced, but then thoughtfully replies
“it is I true, I do not know what you have lived.
But what I do know is
That everything you have just said is important”
Vanier gets permission to share this mans story with those outside the prison and encourages this man that when he does get out of prison, that he may need to listen to stories of people about life outside of the prison.
Everything you have just said is important.
Vanier listened and heard him. He validated him. And he encouraged him to do the same, to see things beyond what he had experienced.
I want to be this. To be a listener, first, to hear what someone is saying. I won’t be able to match every story I hear—even Jesus did not experience the lives of the prostitutes and tax collectors and sinners he encountered—but he heard them. And he offered them healing. Not co-dependent, weird, get-away-with- whatever-you-want, you-had-a-tough-childhood type of stuff- but honest healing and love from the source that never stops coming.
And to be a conduit of that source, I must know that source myself…. I must know it well. We have no business trying to help anyone else unless we know full well where our own healing comes from. What are we offering if we don’t? Our own depleted, half-grown, broken, numbed out, holier than thou selves are not going do anyone any good, even with the best of intentions. After Vaniers section on God’s love, he immediately goes into how that love translates to helping the needy and marginalized. But the love came first- the reminder of our source, the God above and within, that loves us more than we are capable of understanding, that came first.
As I watch the ocean disappear behind the contrasted trees, water trickles from the fountain outside. I imagine God as the source of all the water on earth, even the source of the ocean so powerful and beyond comprehension. From this source, every ocean, stream, river and lake is provided with water. And then I imagine us, at our little fountains and ponds and creeks, trying to provide people with sustenance by the power of our own tiny trickles of water. And while, yes, God is in our little streams, we must continually show those without that the source is far greater than us.
I spent part of day two writing, showering, driving and trying to find a warm, cozy spot in the Pebble Beach resort to sit and read some more. But this proved difficult because their café was closed and it was cold outside even on that nice terrace overlooking the ocean-side green that seemed inviting and I assumed would promise some outdoor heaters for its elite clientèle. Sitting out there, I listened to the golfer/tourists talk about all sorts of inane things that angered me, such as the rice shortage being fake and naming all the different cars one has. I tried to ignore them and read McSweeney’s and the election coverage in the paper, which I liked doing, because it felt good to flip open the paper and feel informed and part of things. Besides this brief hour on the cold terrace, I spent the day worried I wasn’t doing enough—I had a stack of books I brought (probably like 15), and a list of things to blog about and a handful of DVD’s to watch and then the whole praying business I came for in the first place. As I meandered home feeling defeated that I could only make it one hour on the cold terrace, I felt anxious and unproductive. I wondered which books I should read. I worried over what I would write. Am I doing what I am supposed to here, God?
I decided that since Vanier had been good to me last night, I would continue in that vain. Plus, I would feel good to maybe make it half way through this book.
And yes, Vanier was good to me;
That is why the Lord says:
‘For I will remove the names of Ba’als from her mouth’ (Hos 2:17)
which means,
‘I will take away all those things that have become idols for you,
the thing that you worship in place of God;
things that have taken on too much importance,
such as money, efficiency, know-how, reputation,
even friendship and community.
You have put your trust in them instead of in me.’
Reading this, I realized that even in my pursuit of a “spiritual retreat”, I let my idols of productivity, of busy-ness and of efficiency come in the way, causing anxiety and doubt about my time here to just eat away at any joy and peace I was hoping would come out of it. And of course, in reading this, there is the realization that in so many ways I let idols take the place of my worship of God… all of the above, and then some. Seeing this reality, letting it set itself in my heart, was a relief.
To see again that my poverty is always present makes the love God has for me that much more astonishing. I beat myself up now and almost always, with the feeling that I am never done. I am a compulsive list maker and long for the day when everything is crossed off the list. But its not ever done, those lists. I want to be a good friend, who keeps up on quality time, and phone calls and emails and correspondence, and no matter how much I try, there is always more. I long to be a prolific writer, keeping up on blogs, writing articles one day, perhaps even a book at some point… but I can barely blog once a month. These, to some extent, are just surface things, but there are a hundred more ways I feel I don’t measure up- my sensitive ego, my insatiable need to please others, my selfish hoarding of my time and resources, to name a few.
Vanier sums it up well:
"We tend to think that it is impossible for God to call us
and to love us as we are today.
We feel we are not good enough,
that we are totally unworthy of that love."
But he goes on:
"Yet if we listen, God constantly reminds us:
'I love you just as you are
and I am calling you today, ‘come and be with me.’
You may have been unfaithful at times
Because you forgot me;
that is why I am leading you once more into the wilderness
so that you can understand how much I love you
and so that you may know me.”
Let us take time to listen to God.
Perhaps we can just sit down near a tree
And hear God say to us
‘you are beloved
you are precious in my eyes and I love you.’
And this, this is what I needed to read, today, this moment. The truth of this lead me to pray, to really pray and let out my heart—to recognize all of my imperfections and bask in the truth that God loves me in the midst of them. To speak to him about all the things on my heart, all the people I care for, all the worries I have over my work and my future and my heart. To pray out of a place of knowing and taking in the love of God – this is what I wanted. And what I want to continue.
I often worry that when I share who Jesus is to me with someone who may not believe in Him as the son of God, that I will come across as insincere, or lacking in tough life experience. I worry that the gravity of my own little life won’t have much weight to someone who has had it tougher than I have had. Again Vanier speaks to this in relaying a story about one day when he spoke to a prison about God’s love. One prisoner challenged him, saying that Vanier had had and easy life, that he couldn’t possibly understand the difficulty of the lives of the prisoners there. The prisoner listed the events of his disastrous childhood- rape and prostitution and imprisonment. To this Vanier was silenced, but then thoughtfully replies
“it is I true, I do not know what you have lived.
But what I do know is
That everything you have just said is important”
Vanier gets permission to share this mans story with those outside the prison and encourages this man that when he does get out of prison, that he may need to listen to stories of people about life outside of the prison.
Everything you have just said is important.
Vanier listened and heard him. He validated him. And he encouraged him to do the same, to see things beyond what he had experienced.
I want to be this. To be a listener, first, to hear what someone is saying. I won’t be able to match every story I hear—even Jesus did not experience the lives of the prostitutes and tax collectors and sinners he encountered—but he heard them. And he offered them healing. Not co-dependent, weird, get-away-with- whatever-you-want, you-had-a-tough-childhood type of stuff- but honest healing and love from the source that never stops coming.
And to be a conduit of that source, I must know that source myself…. I must know it well. We have no business trying to help anyone else unless we know full well where our own healing comes from. What are we offering if we don’t? Our own depleted, half-grown, broken, numbed out, holier than thou selves are not going do anyone any good, even with the best of intentions. After Vaniers section on God’s love, he immediately goes into how that love translates to helping the needy and marginalized. But the love came first- the reminder of our source, the God above and within, that loves us more than we are capable of understanding, that came first.
As I watch the ocean disappear behind the contrasted trees, water trickles from the fountain outside. I imagine God as the source of all the water on earth, even the source of the ocean so powerful and beyond comprehension. From this source, every ocean, stream, river and lake is provided with water. And then I imagine us, at our little fountains and ponds and creeks, trying to provide people with sustenance by the power of our own tiny trickles of water. And while, yes, God is in our little streams, we must continually show those without that the source is far greater than us.
the cottage castle retreat
This is the most ridiculous view you have ever seen, its absolutely unreal. I am sitting in the sun room of a little miniature tower- part castle, part English country home. It’s beautifully decorated and quaint (old fashioned/old lady country style), warm and cozy. But this being alone here is quite difficult. I felt I had been craving solitude for months, sensed this need to be away from the everyday machine of work, play, friends, bills, errands, busy, schedule, email, traffic, shopping, money. Not that I live in some crazy city or something… but life is this way, no matter where you live. If I were a farmer, it would be just as busy, but in a different way- getting up early, eating before light, working the fields, tending the cows, whatever.
So here I am on my retreat, away from all that, and its really really difficult. I woke up this morning semi-panicked—what am I going to do with myself? The gray skies lied to me all morning, looking like 6am for hours— which caused multiple back-to-sleeps, resulting in my getting out of bed at 12:44pm. I think I slept for 12 hours, but I don’t know, since I don’t have my phone and there are no clocks in this place. For most of last night and the morning, I didn’t have any clue what time it was. Which should have been nice, except my compulsive need to be busy, to have a reason to do something, to have a sense of purpose, kept me from enjoying this mellow schedule I am supposed to have here.
I mean, that, and it could be the fact that the gray hasn’t lifted at all since yesterday. All the perfect pebble beach trees and the ocean waiting beyond have no shadow, no contrast, because all the sky can give them is the matte, depressing gray. The weather report last night said partly cloudy, highs in the low 60’s… and of course it had to pan over to santa cruz and report sun and upper 60’s. This is my vice, of course, the pursuit of the sun. I want it/need it so badly… to have it beat down on me, to feel the warmth all around, to be perfectly at peace with all my surroundings. This may explain my sense of hopelessness, at the moment, to some extent.
But even with sun, I would expect that the anxiety and lack of hope I feel would remain, because I am here, with an entire day left, to do whatever it is I want. And though this should be relaxing and fun, looking back on the last 24 hours, I am not too pleased with what I chose for them. I was late in getting here (of course), got lost somehow (of course) and when I did arrive, I hadn’t thought ahead enough to bring food with me (of course). So I ventured back out into traffic and had to spend an hour getting food basics, only to find that the yummy looking quesadilla I had picked from the local deli had the stinkiest cheese I had ever smelled and tasted terrible. Back here in the cozy cottage/tower, I proceeded to watch television for about 6 hours straight, all the while cursing myself for not being more “productive.” Its not that I was even watching anything particularly good- but I have this problem… television is literally an addiction for me. Chalk it up to watching it constantly as a child, but the minute I turn it on, unless you give me a reason to stop, I will watch and watch as the dark of night surrounds me and I am enveloped in the blue haze, until I pass out in a pop culturally mind-numbed bliss.
By the grace of God, I finally switched it off somewhere between 11 and 12 (but who really knows?). I sat laying there, in quiet, wanting to talk to God, but feeling like a fake. I did, finally, confessing my doubt at Him, my doubts about all these areas of my life, my fear at failing, of being numb, of never feeling like I am actually doing anything with my life. I finally made it up the spiral stairs to my bed and opened “Befriending the Stranger” by Jean Vanier.
“God’s ways are not our ways; God’s choices are not the choices of society.
God chooses “the poor, the weak, the needy”,
Those who recognize their poverty—
Not just a material poverty but an inability to cope with life,
A feeling of powerlessness and not knowing what to do.
A mother who has just lost a child is “poor”.
A women whose husband has left her is “poor”.
A man who has lost his job is “poor”.
The girl who learns she has cancer is “poor”.
The man who senses his body growing older and weaker is “poor”.
People who are faced with difficult family situations are “poor”.
The problem is that we refuse to admit our weakness, our needs, our poverty
because we are frightened of rejection.
We have been taught to be strong, to be “the best”, to win
in order to become “someone”.
Since society tends to marginalize those who are weak
we think weakness means rejection.
Se we try to hide our own poverty for as long as we can
and to pretend we are strong;
We build up an appearance of being in control.
We need to hear that gentle, inner voice of God who tells us:
“You do not need to pretend.
You do not need to hide your weakness.
You can bee yourself.
I didn’t call you to community
First of all to help others
or to prove that you were generous or efficient.
I called you because you are poor,
Just like the ones you cane to serve
And because the Kingdom of God is promised to the poor.”
Read that again.
And then again.
After a couple times, I realized that it was exactly what I didn’t know that I needed to hear.
Coinciding with this retreat, I was in an existential mini-crisis about my purpose and place in the world. What was I really doing to serve the Kingdom? Is my heart truly surrendered to God and His will and direction for my heart and life?—or am I in a pattern, a way, that makes it easy to appear so, while all the while allowing my heart to soak in my own comfort and selfishness? Am I effective in my job? Is anyone in the church really experiencing community?
And in the midst of all the questions, the shame.
I am not doing enough. There are still people who feel alone when they walk through our doors. The people of myranmar are dying every second. The world is hungrier now than ever before. I am selfish with my time, trapped in a bubble. I don’t truly give myself to others. And on and on.
I am not poor in material wealth. I am not poor in friends or purpose. I am not poor by the standards of outside looking in.
But I am poor in spirit.
Because of my own, broken humanity,
I crave my own comfort.
I defer to my own needs before others.
I stay busy so I don’t have to feel.
I am addicted to being needed, because I am scared of being useless.
I have little, if any, self-control.
I am weak.
And I know that in all these things, and in more,
I need God,
who loves me beyond reason.
Later, Vanier (who is Henri Houwen’s mentor) goes on to say
“Let us ask Jesus to help us discover our poverty,
not to be frightened or ashamed of it
and to become more aware of our call, our mission.
God’s call is different for each one of us
And yet it is the same.
It is a call to grow in love, in wisdom and in inner freedom,
And thus to bring greater love, peace and freedom into the world.
Once we have recognized our call and found our place-
which takes time-
Then we need to learn to put down roots
and to be faithful to that call.
Each person has his/her role in building the community.
Each has to deepen his/her sense of being called.
It takes time for choices to deepen, to mature and to bear fruit.
Each call is unique
but we are all called to give life
and to give life together, as a community.”
As sad as it is to say, being the director of community for our church, the heart of these two truths I have forgotten- that beyond all our details and circumstance, we are simply called to give life and to give it together in community.
How easy it is for me to forget my source of life- God… and easy to forget that I actually do need God.
How easy it is to forget my context, that life is given in community. And that I need community.
Maybe there is a reason I don’t feel so good here.
The loneliness I feel, even after one day, feels like fasting from food. Food is not bad, it gives our physical bodies life and sustenance—but when we fast, it reminds us of our weakness, and how blessed we are that we do have food, when we get to have it again. I feel the same for the people in my life right now. I am fasting from them to be reminded that despite how busy I get or overwhelmed I get, I need them. I need them around to remind me I am human, that I am accepted and loved… and specifically that my acceptance and love comes through the truth of God’s presence in my life. The community I have is, and must remain, a constant reminder that the body of Christ is bonded together through God, who is our source, the headwater in our streams of life. He has given us to each other as gifts, to remind each other of what is true and right.
As dirty as I feel about my television overdose, some of what I saw yesterday reflects some of what I am realizing right now—
In “Walk the Line,” Johnny needed June to help him from his darkness. June needed Johnny so she would stop being afraid of love.
On “Wife Swap,” over-controlling family from Michigan needed mellow family from Ohio to learn how to be more free and less rigid (though they didn’t listen in the end). Ohio family needed Michigan family to help them have structure and boundaries, so they could raise healthier kids and have saner lives (and they did listen in the end).
In “Rent,” the rag-tag bohemians absolutely needed each other to survive the ravages of AIDS, materialism, poverty and prejudice- their liveliness and creativity thrived from being together.
On “Sex and the City,” Carrie and the gals realized the value of family/community, created or biological, as a place to come home to when everything else feels lost or broken.
Even the Home Shopping Network sellers of a hair care product looked so happy and alive being together, testing their hairspray on each other and receiving calls from housewives delighted to be part of their experience.
Its so funny what happens to you when you spend enough time alone.
So here I am on my retreat, away from all that, and its really really difficult. I woke up this morning semi-panicked—what am I going to do with myself? The gray skies lied to me all morning, looking like 6am for hours— which caused multiple back-to-sleeps, resulting in my getting out of bed at 12:44pm. I think I slept for 12 hours, but I don’t know, since I don’t have my phone and there are no clocks in this place. For most of last night and the morning, I didn’t have any clue what time it was. Which should have been nice, except my compulsive need to be busy, to have a reason to do something, to have a sense of purpose, kept me from enjoying this mellow schedule I am supposed to have here.
I mean, that, and it could be the fact that the gray hasn’t lifted at all since yesterday. All the perfect pebble beach trees and the ocean waiting beyond have no shadow, no contrast, because all the sky can give them is the matte, depressing gray. The weather report last night said partly cloudy, highs in the low 60’s… and of course it had to pan over to santa cruz and report sun and upper 60’s. This is my vice, of course, the pursuit of the sun. I want it/need it so badly… to have it beat down on me, to feel the warmth all around, to be perfectly at peace with all my surroundings. This may explain my sense of hopelessness, at the moment, to some extent.
But even with sun, I would expect that the anxiety and lack of hope I feel would remain, because I am here, with an entire day left, to do whatever it is I want. And though this should be relaxing and fun, looking back on the last 24 hours, I am not too pleased with what I chose for them. I was late in getting here (of course), got lost somehow (of course) and when I did arrive, I hadn’t thought ahead enough to bring food with me (of course). So I ventured back out into traffic and had to spend an hour getting food basics, only to find that the yummy looking quesadilla I had picked from the local deli had the stinkiest cheese I had ever smelled and tasted terrible. Back here in the cozy cottage/tower, I proceeded to watch television for about 6 hours straight, all the while cursing myself for not being more “productive.” Its not that I was even watching anything particularly good- but I have this problem… television is literally an addiction for me. Chalk it up to watching it constantly as a child, but the minute I turn it on, unless you give me a reason to stop, I will watch and watch as the dark of night surrounds me and I am enveloped in the blue haze, until I pass out in a pop culturally mind-numbed bliss.
By the grace of God, I finally switched it off somewhere between 11 and 12 (but who really knows?). I sat laying there, in quiet, wanting to talk to God, but feeling like a fake. I did, finally, confessing my doubt at Him, my doubts about all these areas of my life, my fear at failing, of being numb, of never feeling like I am actually doing anything with my life. I finally made it up the spiral stairs to my bed and opened “Befriending the Stranger” by Jean Vanier.
“God’s ways are not our ways; God’s choices are not the choices of society.
God chooses “the poor, the weak, the needy”,
Those who recognize their poverty—
Not just a material poverty but an inability to cope with life,
A feeling of powerlessness and not knowing what to do.
A mother who has just lost a child is “poor”.
A women whose husband has left her is “poor”.
A man who has lost his job is “poor”.
The girl who learns she has cancer is “poor”.
The man who senses his body growing older and weaker is “poor”.
People who are faced with difficult family situations are “poor”.
The problem is that we refuse to admit our weakness, our needs, our poverty
because we are frightened of rejection.
We have been taught to be strong, to be “the best”, to win
in order to become “someone”.
Since society tends to marginalize those who are weak
we think weakness means rejection.
Se we try to hide our own poverty for as long as we can
and to pretend we are strong;
We build up an appearance of being in control.
We need to hear that gentle, inner voice of God who tells us:
“You do not need to pretend.
You do not need to hide your weakness.
You can bee yourself.
I didn’t call you to community
First of all to help others
or to prove that you were generous or efficient.
I called you because you are poor,
Just like the ones you cane to serve
And because the Kingdom of God is promised to the poor.”
Read that again.
And then again.
After a couple times, I realized that it was exactly what I didn’t know that I needed to hear.
Coinciding with this retreat, I was in an existential mini-crisis about my purpose and place in the world. What was I really doing to serve the Kingdom? Is my heart truly surrendered to God and His will and direction for my heart and life?—or am I in a pattern, a way, that makes it easy to appear so, while all the while allowing my heart to soak in my own comfort and selfishness? Am I effective in my job? Is anyone in the church really experiencing community?
And in the midst of all the questions, the shame.
I am not doing enough. There are still people who feel alone when they walk through our doors. The people of myranmar are dying every second. The world is hungrier now than ever before. I am selfish with my time, trapped in a bubble. I don’t truly give myself to others. And on and on.
I am not poor in material wealth. I am not poor in friends or purpose. I am not poor by the standards of outside looking in.
But I am poor in spirit.
Because of my own, broken humanity,
I crave my own comfort.
I defer to my own needs before others.
I stay busy so I don’t have to feel.
I am addicted to being needed, because I am scared of being useless.
I have little, if any, self-control.
I am weak.
And I know that in all these things, and in more,
I need God,
who loves me beyond reason.
Later, Vanier (who is Henri Houwen’s mentor) goes on to say
“Let us ask Jesus to help us discover our poverty,
not to be frightened or ashamed of it
and to become more aware of our call, our mission.
God’s call is different for each one of us
And yet it is the same.
It is a call to grow in love, in wisdom and in inner freedom,
And thus to bring greater love, peace and freedom into the world.
Once we have recognized our call and found our place-
which takes time-
Then we need to learn to put down roots
and to be faithful to that call.
Each person has his/her role in building the community.
Each has to deepen his/her sense of being called.
It takes time for choices to deepen, to mature and to bear fruit.
Each call is unique
but we are all called to give life
and to give life together, as a community.”
As sad as it is to say, being the director of community for our church, the heart of these two truths I have forgotten- that beyond all our details and circumstance, we are simply called to give life and to give it together in community.
How easy it is for me to forget my source of life- God… and easy to forget that I actually do need God.
How easy it is to forget my context, that life is given in community. And that I need community.
Maybe there is a reason I don’t feel so good here.
The loneliness I feel, even after one day, feels like fasting from food. Food is not bad, it gives our physical bodies life and sustenance—but when we fast, it reminds us of our weakness, and how blessed we are that we do have food, when we get to have it again. I feel the same for the people in my life right now. I am fasting from them to be reminded that despite how busy I get or overwhelmed I get, I need them. I need them around to remind me I am human, that I am accepted and loved… and specifically that my acceptance and love comes through the truth of God’s presence in my life. The community I have is, and must remain, a constant reminder that the body of Christ is bonded together through God, who is our source, the headwater in our streams of life. He has given us to each other as gifts, to remind each other of what is true and right.
As dirty as I feel about my television overdose, some of what I saw yesterday reflects some of what I am realizing right now—
In “Walk the Line,” Johnny needed June to help him from his darkness. June needed Johnny so she would stop being afraid of love.
On “Wife Swap,” over-controlling family from Michigan needed mellow family from Ohio to learn how to be more free and less rigid (though they didn’t listen in the end). Ohio family needed Michigan family to help them have structure and boundaries, so they could raise healthier kids and have saner lives (and they did listen in the end).
In “Rent,” the rag-tag bohemians absolutely needed each other to survive the ravages of AIDS, materialism, poverty and prejudice- their liveliness and creativity thrived from being together.
On “Sex and the City,” Carrie and the gals realized the value of family/community, created or biological, as a place to come home to when everything else feels lost or broken.
Even the Home Shopping Network sellers of a hair care product looked so happy and alive being together, testing their hairspray on each other and receiving calls from housewives delighted to be part of their experience.
Its so funny what happens to you when you spend enough time alone.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
bits
i have like 50 blogs in me right now.
but i learned yesterday that due to the fact that I am an Extravert on the Myers-Briggs, some of my vulnerabilities are "distraction and suggestibility" which means that i am easily distracted and that if i am planning to do a specific task (blog, write, read, exercise, whatever) and something better or more pressing or more immediate comes up, then i am prone to be easily suggested in the new direction. so, i will not apologize for my not blogging for two months, i will only say that i intend to be more balanced in my overall personality, which will in turn help my blogging commitment, but this will probably take some time to change.
i am going to give you random out of order bits of my mind, with potentially longer blogs to follow.
1. i love my boyfriend. i just read his blog and all his thoughts and it made me love him so much. he would hate that i am being gushy in public like this, but i can't help it. this leads to the larger point that i am beginning to appreciate the introvert. being in a relationship with one for almost 8 months now has helped me learn to really soak up the opposite end of the spectrum. as i observe introverts in my life, here is what i see: introverts talk less. they listen better. when they do say something, its usually brilliant, well thought through and intentional. introverts are full of imagination and thought, but they don't need to always talk about it- they are subtler and easier in what they present, and they are not obvious. they tend to be ok with not being the center of everything, thus they seem more humble, gentle and sweet. i am jealous at their not talking. i want to be one, and i have moments, but i still talk too much, need to be the center and can't quite grasp that precious subtlety.
2. fashion shows are great and weird. i attended my first a few weeks ago, on that one hot weekend of glory. what i loved there was this intense sense of creativity and creation. all the people who flooded in to watch oozed with fashion and innovation-- for some forced, others beautifully hidden and delicate and simple. the music was inspiring and layered, thad completely rocked it. the clothes were recycled and great, being pushed and slinked down that runway like nothing else by the eclectic range models. they chose such a great variety of models, too, all different sizes, shades, attitudes. i was exceedingly proud of my friends who were in it, many of them involved with our church community, but totally immersed in this whole other world of color and texture. i loved how create the theme was too- all about nature and the elements, models and clothes representing the earth, reptiles, birds, early humans, the earth, the sun. so great.
the one thing that kept getting me was how many of the models didnt look at anyone- they just stared straight ahead, like they were looking for something or someone more important. this was the only real disconcerting part for me. i don't think i can be ok with that sense of detachment. if someone is in the room with you, seeing you, shouldn't they see you? but this was all that i could complain of. every other part was just so exciting and fun.
the best part, though, was at the end. once the crowds had cleared, i saw 3 women from our church-- they were each in their "dress up" clothes, two un their 60's and one in her 90's. they came to see the lovable Yarek, one half of the Ukrainian duo who keep VFC euro-fabulous at 9am on sundays. their presence about killed me. i loved that they came, that they wanted to support him, that they would drive over the hill and watch the show and then wait for Yarek in this eclectic art gallery, full of 20-something kids trying so hard to be something different and new and out of the ordinary, when really, it was these 3 who were the most unique parts of the night.
3. i have realized that one part of my job that's so hard is that i have to teach things to people that i don't think i completely understand or know.
ok, actually, will finish soon... have to go to sleep now...
but i learned yesterday that due to the fact that I am an Extravert on the Myers-Briggs, some of my vulnerabilities are "distraction and suggestibility" which means that i am easily distracted and that if i am planning to do a specific task (blog, write, read, exercise, whatever) and something better or more pressing or more immediate comes up, then i am prone to be easily suggested in the new direction. so, i will not apologize for my not blogging for two months, i will only say that i intend to be more balanced in my overall personality, which will in turn help my blogging commitment, but this will probably take some time to change.
i am going to give you random out of order bits of my mind, with potentially longer blogs to follow.
1. i love my boyfriend. i just read his blog and all his thoughts and it made me love him so much. he would hate that i am being gushy in public like this, but i can't help it. this leads to the larger point that i am beginning to appreciate the introvert. being in a relationship with one for almost 8 months now has helped me learn to really soak up the opposite end of the spectrum. as i observe introverts in my life, here is what i see: introverts talk less. they listen better. when they do say something, its usually brilliant, well thought through and intentional. introverts are full of imagination and thought, but they don't need to always talk about it- they are subtler and easier in what they present, and they are not obvious. they tend to be ok with not being the center of everything, thus they seem more humble, gentle and sweet. i am jealous at their not talking. i want to be one, and i have moments, but i still talk too much, need to be the center and can't quite grasp that precious subtlety.
2. fashion shows are great and weird. i attended my first a few weeks ago, on that one hot weekend of glory. what i loved there was this intense sense of creativity and creation. all the people who flooded in to watch oozed with fashion and innovation-- for some forced, others beautifully hidden and delicate and simple. the music was inspiring and layered, thad completely rocked it. the clothes were recycled and great, being pushed and slinked down that runway like nothing else by the eclectic range models. they chose such a great variety of models, too, all different sizes, shades, attitudes. i was exceedingly proud of my friends who were in it, many of them involved with our church community, but totally immersed in this whole other world of color and texture. i loved how create the theme was too- all about nature and the elements, models and clothes representing the earth, reptiles, birds, early humans, the earth, the sun. so great.
the one thing that kept getting me was how many of the models didnt look at anyone- they just stared straight ahead, like they were looking for something or someone more important. this was the only real disconcerting part for me. i don't think i can be ok with that sense of detachment. if someone is in the room with you, seeing you, shouldn't they see you? but this was all that i could complain of. every other part was just so exciting and fun.
the best part, though, was at the end. once the crowds had cleared, i saw 3 women from our church-- they were each in their "dress up" clothes, two un their 60's and one in her 90's. they came to see the lovable Yarek, one half of the Ukrainian duo who keep VFC euro-fabulous at 9am on sundays. their presence about killed me. i loved that they came, that they wanted to support him, that they would drive over the hill and watch the show and then wait for Yarek in this eclectic art gallery, full of 20-something kids trying so hard to be something different and new and out of the ordinary, when really, it was these 3 who were the most unique parts of the night.
3. i have realized that one part of my job that's so hard is that i have to teach things to people that i don't think i completely understand or know.
ok, actually, will finish soon... have to go to sleep now...
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
all the things i have needed to say
Ok…. I have been neglecting you , blog, for quite some time, I know.
I know… Truth is, I’ve needed this space.
But i am ready again and i have a few things I’ve wanted to tell:
christmas goodness
I had a wonderful Christmas. Literally, from Dec 1st, on, was great. A redeemed Christmas season, I like to say, because up until this point, Christmas-time since before I can remember has been bad… real bad.
But this Christmas, I:
• Got my first Christmas tree for my own place….which came with mistletoe…. which my roommate promptly hung in every doorway of our house ;)
• Home-made most of my Christmas presents (scented candles), in the spirit of Advent Conspiracy, which also inspired much of our teaching for december, a rad prayer path (yay render), 2 local service projects, a global support of living water international, a coffeeshop art show and lots of relational bonding throughout the church :)
• Held a good ol’ fashioned Christmas white elephant exchange with our church family to say thanks to all those who serve at VFC
• Shopping in Union Square in SF on the busiest shopping weekend of the year
• Participated in an Advent celebration, made my own wreath (which got hung on my apartment door), ate way too many cookies and sung Christmas carols.
• Celebrated Christmas morning with the Jensen family at Juletta (spelling?) which included waking up at 5am, jumping on the sleeping brothers, singing more Christmas classics (doing so at 6am with lots of sweaters is a Swedish tradition, i guess), drinking lots of caffeine, opening gifts of inspiration and then celebrating the end of the night with three special words from a very special someone.
• Feeling a deep sense of peace… a certain awe at the celebration of Jesus’ birth… a sincere wonder at the true heart of Christmas… an honest appreciation for my life, an appreciation that transcended the circumstances being good and reached toward something eternal.
goodbyes
On a sadder note, my Gramma Marlyn died in November. She was a good woman, a hard woman at times, but loved God in her way and is at peace. All told, I spent 10 days this past fall/winter in Ohio because of her decline and then death, and each day reminded me of how much I appreciate my life in Santa Cruz. I deeply love my extended family, but I also see the brokenness of that life…the routine of not hearing anything at all, of falling back into the pattern of anger, bitterness, pride, just not seeing. Almost a senselessness…. Like nothing is seen, nothing is heard, nothing is felt, beyond the present emotion. Life laps the shore endlessnessly, pointlessly, eroding…. Nothing overtly beautiful to it, at least not that I can see. But there are those moments and those looks that give me hope and I remember that I believe in a God who is capable of far more. I must hope.
e x p a n s i o n
I continue to be challenged by the Theodyssey course I am taking. Every bit of it is at once comfortably familiar (thanks to my years of therapy) and strikingly fresh (new ways to see the new self). We took a retreat in January that just filled me right up and inspired me to the brink, causing me to believe that every single person in the church should take this class. As soon as I articulated this out loud to my fellow retreaters, I realized that this was complete madness. You have to be ready and willing for something like this and it’s not easy to stick with. But worth it, to me, in what I see of it, because it’s changing everything and affirming everything, too. More later on this, I am sure.
this wall
For years, probably 3, I have felt myself striving for something. Direction for my future, a light on a path toward something else, a path or a destination or a place that is somehow obvious and perfect and easy to choose. But thus far, my life, its only this staying. In this stability, though, I have grown real and true. I really think this. I don’t regret not leaving or pursuing beyond what I have, because what I have and have had is just good. Real and true…. Really, honestly, just good.
But just beneath that stable goodness that has allowed so much and taught so much, lurks the next steps. I am being prepared, there is no question…. but for what, I don’t know. And everyone asks/encourages…. You should write. You should travel. You should pursue your masters. And I love that. But the what, the what. What, what… what…. is the what? (a good question and an excellent book). I don’t think I know my what and I feel like time is now beginning to slip away.
I am 26. They say babies aren’t safe past the mid-30’s, that you gotta pop those things out early to be safe. My dad had this conversation with me the other day, especially cause i only got the one ovary now. But, um, Dad, shouldn’t I have a husband first? Shouldn’t we figure that out first? And the dozens of engagements swirling around (slight exaggeration, but not by much) exert that 6-month pressure on me that seems unavoidable in Christian dating world—you’ve been together 6 months, are you getting engaged?! Are you kidding me?! This is the rest of my life!!...Can I have at least a year to figure that decision out? Is that ok with you? But, I digress.
So, I feel this wall. Like I have seen it from far away and known it’s coming. I even sometimes think its right in front of me, like my depth perception is off (it’s right here! I am going to hit it! It’s right in front of me, I can’t find a way through! What will I do?!) …but then I realize I have awhile to go before I hit it. And I feel safe again, knowing it’s impending, but knowing I have time. And I enjoy the present, as we do, giving slightly less consideration than I should for what I wish were a farther future.
But now, the length and height and width are more apparent, and it’s bigger and more beautiful and more terrifying than I had first expected. I was way off on this thing. And now, sitting here in the Gypsy Den in Orange County, having been up since 4:54am, traveled down here, sat through 8 hours of a conference, I am worn and tired, my emotions raw-- 07I feel like I could cry for all I want to know and all I want to say. Prayers have been sparse, I feel like I have said it all before. Revelation has been sporadic, something larger seems like it should come. Decisions have been avoided, I will wait for one that simply can’t be ignored. In this state, I just run my hands along the wall, feeling for the opening, waiting for that space that will let me through.
I know… Truth is, I’ve needed this space.
But i am ready again and i have a few things I’ve wanted to tell:
christmas goodnessI had a wonderful Christmas. Literally, from Dec 1st, on, was great. A redeemed Christmas season, I like to say, because up until this point, Christmas-time since before I can remember has been bad… real bad.
But this Christmas, I:
• Got my first Christmas tree for my own place….which came with mistletoe…. which my roommate promptly hung in every doorway of our house ;)
• Home-made most of my Christmas presents (scented candles), in the spirit of Advent Conspiracy, which also inspired much of our teaching for december, a rad prayer path (yay render), 2 local service projects, a global support of living water international, a coffeeshop art show and lots of relational bonding throughout the church :)
• Held a good ol’ fashioned Christmas white elephant exchange with our church family to say thanks to all those who serve at VFC
• Shopping in Union Square in SF on the busiest shopping weekend of the year
• Participated in an Advent celebration, made my own wreath (which got hung on my apartment door), ate way too many cookies and sung Christmas carols.
• Celebrated Christmas morning with the Jensen family at Juletta (spelling?) which included waking up at 5am, jumping on the sleeping brothers, singing more Christmas classics (doing so at 6am with lots of sweaters is a Swedish tradition, i guess), drinking lots of caffeine, opening gifts of inspiration and then celebrating the end of the night with three special words from a very special someone.
• Feeling a deep sense of peace… a certain awe at the celebration of Jesus’ birth… a sincere wonder at the true heart of Christmas… an honest appreciation for my life, an appreciation that transcended the circumstances being good and reached toward something eternal.
goodbyesOn a sadder note, my Gramma Marlyn died in November. She was a good woman, a hard woman at times, but loved God in her way and is at peace. All told, I spent 10 days this past fall/winter in Ohio because of her decline and then death, and each day reminded me of how much I appreciate my life in Santa Cruz. I deeply love my extended family, but I also see the brokenness of that life…the routine of not hearing anything at all, of falling back into the pattern of anger, bitterness, pride, just not seeing. Almost a senselessness…. Like nothing is seen, nothing is heard, nothing is felt, beyond the present emotion. Life laps the shore endlessnessly, pointlessly, eroding…. Nothing overtly beautiful to it, at least not that I can see. But there are those moments and those looks that give me hope and I remember that I believe in a God who is capable of far more. I must hope.
e x p a n s i o nI continue to be challenged by the Theodyssey course I am taking. Every bit of it is at once comfortably familiar (thanks to my years of therapy) and strikingly fresh (new ways to see the new self). We took a retreat in January that just filled me right up and inspired me to the brink, causing me to believe that every single person in the church should take this class. As soon as I articulated this out loud to my fellow retreaters, I realized that this was complete madness. You have to be ready and willing for something like this and it’s not easy to stick with. But worth it, to me, in what I see of it, because it’s changing everything and affirming everything, too. More later on this, I am sure.
this wallFor years, probably 3, I have felt myself striving for something. Direction for my future, a light on a path toward something else, a path or a destination or a place that is somehow obvious and perfect and easy to choose. But thus far, my life, its only this staying. In this stability, though, I have grown real and true. I really think this. I don’t regret not leaving or pursuing beyond what I have, because what I have and have had is just good. Real and true…. Really, honestly, just good.
But just beneath that stable goodness that has allowed so much and taught so much, lurks the next steps. I am being prepared, there is no question…. but for what, I don’t know. And everyone asks/encourages…. You should write. You should travel. You should pursue your masters. And I love that. But the what, the what. What, what… what…. is the what? (a good question and an excellent book). I don’t think I know my what and I feel like time is now beginning to slip away.
I am 26. They say babies aren’t safe past the mid-30’s, that you gotta pop those things out early to be safe. My dad had this conversation with me the other day, especially cause i only got the one ovary now. But, um, Dad, shouldn’t I have a husband first? Shouldn’t we figure that out first? And the dozens of engagements swirling around (slight exaggeration, but not by much) exert that 6-month pressure on me that seems unavoidable in Christian dating world—you’ve been together 6 months, are you getting engaged?! Are you kidding me?! This is the rest of my life!!...Can I have at least a year to figure that decision out? Is that ok with you? But, I digress.
So, I feel this wall. Like I have seen it from far away and known it’s coming. I even sometimes think its right in front of me, like my depth perception is off (it’s right here! I am going to hit it! It’s right in front of me, I can’t find a way through! What will I do?!) …but then I realize I have awhile to go before I hit it. And I feel safe again, knowing it’s impending, but knowing I have time. And I enjoy the present, as we do, giving slightly less consideration than I should for what I wish were a farther future.
But now, the length and height and width are more apparent, and it’s bigger and more beautiful and more terrifying than I had first expected. I was way off on this thing. And now, sitting here in the Gypsy Den in Orange County, having been up since 4:54am, traveled down here, sat through 8 hours of a conference, I am worn and tired, my emotions raw-- 07I feel like I could cry for all I want to know and all I want to say. Prayers have been sparse, I feel like I have said it all before. Revelation has been sporadic, something larger seems like it should come. Decisions have been avoided, I will wait for one that simply can’t be ignored. In this state, I just run my hands along the wall, feeling for the opening, waiting for that space that will let me through.
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