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a global missions trip... to Illinois

2011-02-24T09:41:00.000-08:00

i had the immense privilege of visiting Bolingbrook, Illinois this week, where a number of churches came together to present WorldVision's "Step into Africa" exhibit, a prayer path-like experience where you are transported through photography, narrative and interactive elements into the story of a child affected by the AIDS pandemic in Africa.

in planning to fly out this week, i didnt know what to expect. selfishly, i was excited to be able to travel and spend some time with my sister and her friend in Chicago, which was an awesome, captivating city that i want to go back to soon. but as soon as i met up with my WorldVision connection, Lynne, i knew that my trip was far more than just an excuse to get away for a couple of days.

There is so much to say about what happened for me on my "global missions trip", but what is striking me now, the morning after, is how much emotion i feel about what i experienced in the exhibit. What you experience is visceral.... and heartbreaking... and haunting.... and it doesn't just go away. It feels as though it's settling in me and perhaps wanting to stay with me so that i don't just keep living the way i have before. I have seen some incredible films in the past few years that have truly ruined me (in a good way) to care about the plight of people who have experienced extreme injustice ("Call and Response," "Invisible Children," etc) and so this "feeling" is not new. The moment you enter into the story of someone whose life has been forever changed by one of the myriad global issues threatening humanity (poverty, AIDS, war, human trafficking, etc), you can't help but be caught up in it and struggle through it's implications about...humans, sin, God, life, eternity, justice; all of it. And this experience now feels very similar. And while i have responded in the past to these feelings and to these realizations by trying to educate myself and get involved and support organizations that are taking action in these issues, what is haunting me about "Step into Africa" is what it's implications are for our church, and for the Church of Santa Cruz at large.

By taking steps towards putting on the "Step into Africa" experience, and in turn choosing to support a specific community in Africa through a long term commitment (child sponsorships, vision trips, fundraising, educations, etc) we have the opportunity to bring an life-changing experience to the Church and larger community of Santa Cruz. It's easy to disassociate ourselves from AIDS and poverty when we don't actually experience the reality of it. For most people, they won't be able to go visit a community afflicted by these issues, and so they can remain at a comfortable distance. This exhibit gives people to chance to connect to the reality and the stories and to the emotions of what millions of people are going through... and they can do that here, in their own town. Once you have connected to something like this, it compels you to act, to change, to grow, to love. And through those next steps of action, we as the Body have the opportunity to make a lasting change for a whole community across the world by offering them clean water, sustainable agricultural supplies, health care, education and economic support. I didn't know too much about World Vision before this trip, but from what I learned and experienced, this is an organization that not only knows what it's talking about, but has taken action for the last 60 years on behalf of the world's poor- and has learned what works, and what doesn't. They have the infrastructure and the vision and the tools to help take a church from not just caring about global issues, but to actually do something about them.

Though it was a short trip, and it was only to another part of my own country, i have this sense of having been transported to another world, to another place, to another life. the stories and voices of these children echo in my mind and i cant escape the narrators reminder at the end of the story that for some of these children seeking sponsorships, they may not have another person in the world who prays for them. i feel compelled to action, not just by my emotions, but by a deeply seeded truth inside of me that my heart is connected to the heart of God... and that what breaks His heart should break mine.

my heart is breaking.

and i am ready.

a rainy thursday of good questions

2011-02-17T12:27:00.000-08:00

i've always admired people that can ask great questions, the kind of questions that evoke thoughtful responses and help the person answering figure out something about themselves in the process of responding. today, i met with a mentor of sorts, a leader who i've met with a few times over the years and who always seems to be able to ask the right questions, and from whom i took a leadership course on spiritual direction. he asked me to grab a hot drink (we are 2 of the 10 people in Northern California who don't drink coffee, he joked on the way down) and catch up on life. i jumped at the opportunity, as i respect this person a great deal and felt completely honored to spend time with him... and excited to see what kind of questions he might ask.

in the course of our almost 2 hours of conversation, we talked about many of my most favorite things- life, ministry, marriage, relationships, learning, inspiration, God's kingdom and movement in His people. whenever i spend time with him, i always walk away inspired to be the best version of myself, to be a person of my word, a person of integrity, a person who follows Jesus with every part of my life. a person of fidelity to the long walk of faith. and so much of what affects me when we talk are the questions he asks... today he asked things like:

"where do you feel most alive in ministry?" and he listened as I processed through and explained some of the things delighting me most at this moment - teaching, training, teamwork, meeting one on one with people, supporting other staff.

"what do you sense God's dreams and designs are for your life?", a question which i have so much trouble answering, or even thinking through, so i often avoid thinking about it. he took time to walk me through what this means- God has designed me and has dreams for me, unlikely dreams, dreams that dont have to fit into a personality test or a list of goals, dreams that He longs for me to live out... and so what would it look like to consider how God views me, and what He might long for my life to become? He encouraged me to spend time thinking on that and letting it sit in me so that God could have some space to reveal his dreams and help me live them out.

"where in your life are you being formed and challenged? what practices do you have set in place so that the areas in your life where you need to grow and change can be pushed against in an intentional way?" - thought i am a big fan of intentional growth and change, i dont have anything on the horizon in regard to this question, since a leadership group i've been part of it is coming to an end in a few weeks. he suggested that I consider meeting with a spiritual director once a month, and put into place an intentional spiritual practice that can help me anchor my days, to be the place where no matter what happens during the day, i can come to this thing and find refuge in it and draw strength. this suggestion aligned with some other senses I had been having about where God might be taking me, and it felt right to hear it from him as a "next step," something to take action on because it felt like i was being lead there. we talked more about spiritual direction, what it was, what it could mean to me.

i asked him some advice about an area of ministry, which lead to some helpful insight from him about how important it is for us as leaders to not control everything around us, to not make excuses for scripture, to not try to explain everything or have every answer. I struggle deeply with being in control, for fear that if i am not, i will somehow lose everything or let everyone down. here was a simple reminder to let God be in control, to surrender to Him, to not speak out of turn, to let His spirit guide and direct and be in charge in all things. we talked about how important it is not to just give people words about who God is and His love for us, but to also simply live out that love for them to experience when they interact with us.

our two hours flew by and felt full and brimming with goodness. as he dropped me back off at the office, i realized i needed to give him a check for the upcoming retreat i would be doing through the leadership group we were part of. he just smiled and said, "oh, i wanted to let you know that someone paid for the rest of your balance, so you are all squared away." i began to tear up. that very simple and very profound reality of someone else paying your debt just struck into the heart of me. here i was receiving an answer to a question i didn't ask. i was expecting to have to pay and someone else took care of it for me.... what? for some reason, a part of me was in disbelief, not knowing how to quite receive something so unexpected. why did i feel like somehow i didnt deserve it, or that i needed to pay anyway? i had to chose to just let that gift settle in to me, and once it did, i realized that all i wanted to do in return was bless someone else in the same way some day. that's the thing about unexpected gifts, blessings, grace, love... when you experience them so deeply and so truly, you can't help but want to turn around and give it to someone else.

may i be a person who gives the gifts of both unexpected blessings and thoughtful, well-time questions.

you cant carry it with you if you want to survive

2011-02-06T17:26:00.000-08:00

a few people have recently asked me about my blog and when i came back here, i realized i havent written in over a year! it's wild what can happen in a year... brian and i got engaged, planned a wedding and got married in the space of just about 5 months. and on feb 4, we celebrated 5 months of marriage... so crazy! seeing lots and lots and lots of people last night at the Hurricane Roses show last night, i kept getting the question: " how is married life?!"

and truly, truly, truly...

it is good.

deeply and wonderfully and dynamically and simply good. and that does not mean it is perfect, or that we are perfect or that we don't hit bumps along the way.

but i can say that marrying the man i married, as the time we did and in the way we did, has brought me some of the deepest fulfillment and joy, and yes happiness, that i have ever experienced. brian is an incredible partner... consistently affectionate, affirming in so many ways, a servant, a supporter, a hugger, a maker of most of meals and a planner of future fun events. there are so many huge things i love about him and so many small things i love about him... and ... it's hard to put into words what he means to me, even after just these 5 short months. God truly knew what He was doing when He brought us together. God knew what i needed - and in spite of all my writhing against His leading and all my protesting about what i thought i wanted... God brought what I needed. And that i have what i need is deeply good.

there is so much more to say, but i wanted to start again today. i spent so much time on this blog wondering and pondering and struggling... and now, i am truly enjoying.

florence and the machine sings "dog days are over" and the lyrics resonate in me, as they seem to speak of someone who is hiding from the happiness she has right in front of her. she needs to be present to the good she has now, and not allow all that had weighed her down in her dog days to ruin what is now, this day. and this is me, truly, truly. so much held at me, pulled me under, kept me away from all the good intended for me. and now, it feels i can be here, in it, reveling, soaking, being.

thank you thank you thank you

Happiness hit her like a train on a track Coming towards her stuck still no turning back She hid around corners and she hid under beds She killed it with kisses and from it she fled With every bubble she sank with her drink And washed it away down the kitchen sink The dog days are over The dog days are done The horses are coming So you better run Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers Leave all your love and your longing behind You cant carry it with you if you want to survive

beauty and fear

2009-12-30T10:54:00.000-08:00

i re-read this today and felt it right to share now, some 4 months later...

port de iquaçu/iguaçu falls...

an early morning flight, traveling fatigue and heavy bags did nothing to dampen our enthusiasm over our time in iguaçu falls. the moment we jumped in the taxi from the airport, we felt like we had been transported to a different world entirely. it felt like hawaii, only richer colors, more humid air and a sense of calm and tranquility that contrasted beautifully with our big city adventures. not only was the environment simply fantastic, but the hostel we stayed in made us love the whole place even more. it was set up to feel like you were in the jungle, but not in a cheesy way at all-- in the very best way. lots of wood paneling, simple, cozy and clean rooms, a pool, a welcoming and perfectly lit and welcoming bar/hang out area and a super friendly staff (our main contact, sophi, was simply the best, helping us plan our our time in the falls and our next few steps of the trip).

after a yummy breakfast including some Kenny G tunes, we headed up to Iguaçu Falls by bus and once we got through ticketing, me losing my sunglasses and needing to buy new ones and trekking through some short trails, we encountered the Falls, which were beyond words in magnitude, beauty and just pure awe-inspiring-ness. they span about 1.5 miles, and are surrounded by a lush green rainforest/jungle setting. we explored the whole area, taking a boat right into the bottom of the falls (getting totally drenched and me screaming for dear life as the base of the falls is deafening and scary), walking out the edge of the most intense falls, called Devils Throat (the spray from the base of the falls flies up hundreds of feet above the actual falls, the water pressure is so intense) and then taking a slow boat ride through the still waters above the falls, where we saw a crocodile from about 5 feet away (causing me to crouch in the middle of the boat while everyone else laughed at me).

it was on this adventure that it came to me that with many experiences of real, true beauty, fear and danger are almost a requisite companion experience to that beauty. as we experienced all the phenomenally beautiful facets of the falls (seeing it from above, below and next to), an element of fear and danger was always right there with us. hiking across long bridges over the smaller (but still pretty high) falls; walking to the very edge of one large fall and the looking up to see the massive flow of water above; seeing Devils Throat so close, knowing you could slip over and be gone in a second; seeing a crocodile close up; hearing the roar of the falls not far ahead and not being entirely sure the boat guide knew how to steer clear of the edge; walking for a long time over the actual edge of the falls with a pretty low railing to protect you -- all of these things were intensely beautiful, but also incredibly scary. but you could not have the beauty without the fear. miniature versions of those falls could never cause you to feel so overwhelmed by their beauty and magnificence.

i am beginning to see this paradox in all of our adventures- macchu picchu was so gorgeous, so stunning, but every time you realized how high up you were, it was terrifying. flying so many places, feeling the turbulence, knowing how risky flying is if you really think about it- these are all so scary, so fearful-- but could the beauty and experience of South America be had simply by seeing it in a picture online or in some movie? there is no way! the fear and danger of flying gave way to the beauty of this expansive and amazing experience of South America.

as i write this all out, i realize i am happy to have had this revelation, as i am one to always look into the deeper meaning of things. on this trip, i have felt a lightness, an ease, a lack of weight (in a good way). of course my mind still spends way too much time finding things to analyze and think on and try to figure out... but this metaphor or idea of beauty and fear mixing and giving way to each other is churning in me very deeply and still showing me more of itself. perhaps what i am meant to learn here is not something i will be able to control. perhaps the lessons (like this one) will come over time and unexpectedly and in more layers and nuances than i could have ever wanted.

a year in the kingdom

2009-12-04T00:22:00.000-08:00

tonight, we saw 2 concerts in the mountains of santa cruz- gregory alan isokov and j tillman. both musicians will likely become part of my soundtrack for the winter. j tillman had won me over with the title track from "a year in the kingdom" back at the end of october. i listened to it on a particularly emotional day, one when it felt like many things were coming to a head and God was making even clearer some truths and realities i already knew- and needed to know more of.

what's genius about the song is that its lyrics evoke something in you that you don't really understand- they are heart rending and emotional and raw... but you don't quite know why, you can't quite put your finger on it. they have overtones of something to do with God, but the exact meaning is ever so slightly obscured, which makes it somehow more beautiful. i am finding so much beauty, as of late, in things i can't quite understand.

tonight, j tillman's show was at the brookdale lodge, and the section where he played was probably 40 degrees, no joke. you could see your breath. if you know me at all, you know this was not a good thing. i stayed as long as i could in the section, his voice is so perfect and everything so captivating, you want to be close and hear everything. by the end of the set, i couldn't handle anymore and so i found refuge by the fireplace in the back of the room (which provided no heat to the front of the room for some reason).

during the first song of the encore, brian and i were feeling ready to go. i told myself that if the next song wasn't "year in the kindom," then we could go. before he began the second encore song, J off-handedly said how great it would be to unplug and finish up by the fire. the small but faithful crowd convinced him that this was right and so he made his way toward the warmth, while the crowd circled around. and there, by the glow of firelight and 50 quiet, expectant listeners, he began...

when i look back on my life
a stillness passes over friends
what i stored was yours to keep
it's no more mine to reclaim than the rocks and the trees

i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden
i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden

what comfort used to pass my days
before you shook the cold from me
i have enough to hold me to your side
before release comes for me like a thief in the night

i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden
i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden

i'd give back every night bird song
i'd give back every lay in the dawn
i'd give back my singing voice

for, one more day, one more day in the kingdom

my ears recalled the october day five weeks earlier, hearing these words and music at a time when i somehow had needed them to give voice to what was going on inside. and as i remembered that, i also remembered that earlier today, i had been asking God to show up, to show me something, to show me that he was listening to me as I implored him to give me guidance about my life. and in this unexpected and perfect way, it felt like this song- being sung in the warmth of the fire, surrounded by easy, thoughtful silence- was a showing up. instead of up on a stage, away, separated, here was this song, these words - sung softly, gently, humbly, giving voice to mystery, reminding.

peru, days 1-3

2009-08-19T20:31:00.000-07:00

on our 26 day south american trek, days 1-3 have already proven quite momentous...

*ALTITUDE HIGH*
we are feeling sort of drugged because of the altitude here. i think we are like somewhere between 6-10,000 feet above sea level (i can´t convert from kilometers, but its definitely high up). just walking up stairs winded us the first few days and we still have weird moments where it affects us - brian gets winded when he stands up right after waking up, its kind of funny. our skin is so dry and the air so different, it caused me to get a wonderful bloody nose yesterday and then today again on thetrain. so cute.

*PISAC- death by bus?*
Because all the trains to machu picchu were booked for the days we wanted to go, we re-arranged our sched, and day one, we instead went to a tiny village an hour outside of Cusco called Pisac. the bus ride over was really really really scary. i kept wondering what it would sound like if people heard i died in bus accident while driving a curvy highup road, listening to 80¨s hits. luckily, we survived. in pisac, they had a huge market with fresh foods, lots of warm clothes, trinkets and so much more. while the market was charming and at first you felt special cause it seemed everyone wanted to talk to you, we soon got overwhelmed with people constantly shouting at us and wanting us to buy from them. it was essentially our first taste of what has been one long insessant sales pitch the minute we arrive in any sort of setting where the vendors know there will be tourists. i feel like a robot, repeating over and over {no gracias, no gracia, no gracias}.

*hugo, the very best*
day two we headed toward puno, the large town right next to lake titcaca (hehe! still funny to say and type). the bus ride takes about 5 hours ish with no stops, but this was a special tour where we stopped at 5 different places along the way. while it had potential cheese factor (for some reason, tours always seem cheesy to me at first), the tour experience was AMAZING!! our tour guide, Hugo, looked like a mix of michael jackson (pre plastic surgery) and gabriel garcia bernal... and he was super friendly, knowledgable, kind and easy to talk with. we had seats the the very front of the bus, so we got lots of time to chat with him. on our stops, we saw an amazing church (the sistene chapel of south america, apparently), old Inka ruins, fantastic views of all kinds of lansdacspes (plains that ran right into gigantic golden mountains, rivers, trees, livestock) and tons and tons of people riding bikes, herding animals, walking along, sitting, observing, almost getting hit by our bus, etc. we also ate lunch at a cute little place with an amazing spread of all types of peruvian cusisine. we loved this, because we are finding that real peruvian food is hard to come by in the city centers we stay in, cause all the city restaraunts are geared toward tourists and so the food is far from authentic. we arrived in puno at 5pm and said good bye to the wonderful hugo, who will forever be my favorite tour guide :)

*the lake of lies... and beauty*
at 6:50am of day 3, we headed out on another tour, this time by boat. it was so confusing trying to find the boat and when found it, more confusion ensued for about 20 minutes cause they overbooked and there were not enough seats. the tour guide was no hugo, and so i didnt really listen to him much, just stared out the window and tried to soak in the lake and land and reeds and sun. the first stop were the floating islands, which are made entirely of reeds and mud, reedwhich grows for miles on the lake. there are about 48 small islands in a big circle and that they exist at all is amazing: stepping onto them made us wish we could sleep on them as our hotel beds were rock hard. but, they are lies. well, the islands were real, but the "natives" who live there might as well be disneyland characters dressed up to make you think you have transported to another time. they wait for you at the boat, dressed in very clean, brightly colored "native" clothes and then as you get the history and construction details of the island from our bad tour guide, they set up a marketof "handmade" crafts for us to buy (though the crafts in every marketwe have been in have been identical to each other, causing us towonder who in fact is making these authentic items.) before you leavethey gather around and sing to you. tihs happened at all the islandssimulatenously, as each island had its own tour boat to impress. Iwas the most skeptical of all of us and so it was hard to enjoy theexperience. it was cool that they were in fact reed islands, floating and in existence for hundreds of years, but the fakeness of it all wasupsetting. after the islands, we got back out onto the lake for athree hour boat ride to another huge island, where stevey and ienjoyed a long, refreshing girl talk in the warm sun (the weather here is much more mild than we thought, which makes me soooo happy). theisland was cool, we got to hike and see amazing villages, and enjoyanother great peruvian lunch and i embarassed myself royally by tryingto talk to another person on the tour and introducing myself by saying"im america" to which all ten people at the table laughed at. we endedthe day by eating at an amazing pizza place called "macchupizza" which was actually wonderful despite the name.

life from death...

2009-07-01T14:22:00.001-07:00

From time to time, I am going to use this space to make sure and remember the great conversations that make my life and my work worth every bit of struggle and confusion and pain.

Again, the theme of service and our life being ABOUT God has surfaced. In my conversation with a new friend/VFC connection (we'll call her S), we pondered and worked through and celebrated the reality that our lives are not about ourselves or our own happiness, necessarily, but that they are ultimately about serving other people as conduits or vessels of God.

Recent losses in S's life have left her with a sense of wanting to move to the next place in life, where she just serves others and focuses on that over things she has focused on our worried about in the past. Perhaps as she sees the beautiful legacy of service that those she lost left behind, she realizes that she wants to be part of something like that herself. In this moment, in this awakening, she is available to what God wants to do with her, she is open to being used in whatever way she can be used. This is how she wants to live. She has that sense of clarity about her that comes after great pain and loss. Life, in a very real, tangible way, has become this precious gift. Life for S has become simpler in a way. Life is not about us. Life is not about our own self-contained happiness or comfort or success. Life is something to be lost so we can truly live.

S is still figuring things out. She wants to know the Bible, wants to understand it. She sees she has a lot to learn. But in and of herself, S is this amazing gift. She is present, easy to talk with, encouraging, gentle, positive, deep. She already has so much to offer the world, its almost like learning about God and the Bible will shed light on what's already been richly at work in her. I firmly believe that as we grow fully into who we are in Christ, we become more fully us.

Our conversation brought us to the discussion of how every part of the Body is unique, how we all bring so much to the table simply in and of who we are... and every part of us that is God, IS GOD. God is so infinitely dynamic and interesting and complex and all encompassing-- every great thing about every person is Him. This is endlessly encouraging to me. I love how God has made this world and made us. Yes, brokenness and darkness and confusion abound... but there is this hope.

As S and I talked, I was reminded of this incredible quote i just read from Mulholland (again)

"We have so emphasized the Life dimension of the New Testament that we have avoided coming to grips with its death dimension. We have avoided the fact that in the gospel, Life comes out of death, not out of life. Trying to bring Life out of life attempts to escape the necessity of dying to the old parameters of our existence, the necessity of relinquishing the brokenness of our being, the necessity of letting go of those things that warp and misshape and distort who we are."

S has experienced death... literal death of those around her and, in a deep way, death of her old self, her old parameters of existence, her old being. And out of this death, Life.

robert mulholland says

2009-06-29T22:43:00.000-07:00

"human life is, by its very nature, spiritual formation. the question is not whether to undertake spiritual formation. the question is what kind of spiritual formation are we already engaged in? are we being increasingly conformed to the brokenness and disintegration of the world, or are we being increasingly conformed to the wholeness and integration of the image of Christ?"

three letter word

2009-06-24T12:23:00.001-07:00

I feel like my life revolves around the simplest thing, this one three letter word ... God. My life is about knowing God, loving God, trusting God, choosing God, cultivating my relationship with God, being a conduit for God to other people. And it is very clear that this is my primary purpose, this focus on and relationship to and becoming like God. But, if this one little word is all my life is about, why why why does life feel so complicated and confusing and cloudy so much of the time? Why is it so easy to lose track and feel utterly lost?

In most conversations with my married, dating and single girlfriends, we spend hours analyzing our future/potential/actual mates. What does it mean when he does or says this? Why is he acting interested but doesn't do anything about it? What if he decides there is someone more beautiful or interesting out there and leaves me? We circle around these questions and fears, worrying and fretting that we need to do more or be more in order to be loved and kept. We long for this deep connection, this deep sense of being known, the moment of ultimate safety and acceptance, that final confirmation that we have found the right person at the right time and we can stop the search, stop the fears and finally "be happy." But is being "happy" really the goal of our long search? Do our hearts simply become satisfied with this "happiness" once we get married/find the one/live "happily" ever after?

My sinking suspicion is that there is more. Well, in fact, my experience, as limited as it feels, is that there is more. Not that it is wrong to want to find a partner, and not that these fears aren't very real. But its the motivation underneath the search that gets me thinking, that causes me to wonder what it is i am really looking for. For about a year now, I have had this idea in my head that when I do finally say "I do", I want it to be because what I see in the person I am with is not only someone who understands me and loves me and accepts me, but that I see someone who truly encourages me and exhorts me to be the woman God has made me to be. I want that person to passionately pursue who they are in Christ, to not give up on growth and change and discovery... and I want to be a person who helps encourage them to become the man God has them to be. And together, I want us to be a couple who is willing to do whatever God leads us to do, to become who ever God has us to become, and to serve wherever and whoever God has us to serve. I want our life together to be about this one simple thing: God.

In the midst of thinking all this, of letting these ideas and thoughts and dreams be processed through the intense machine that is my brain, my friend Lee has brain surgery. His wife posted this morning on the update blog the following:

Now that Lee's condition is stable, I want to share about our journey through a spiritual lens. Since the moment that we found out about Lee's lesion on Friday, God's presence has prevailed. There have been so many evidences of Him that have been occurring in the past 6 days. Every time I see one, I am quick to give God thanks. As Lee was in surgery, I was writing them all down in my journal, giving thanks, because I don't want to forget one of them. Among them all, and they are still coming, I want to highlight two profound ways that God has personally been evident. As the urgent care doctor told us the news of this mass in Lee's brain, I felt JOY (God, how are you going to use this for your kingdom purposes?) and PEACE (God, we trust and depend on you).

As for JOY, Friday night as I lay in bed, I began to survey the landscape of all the possible outcomes of Lee's situation from ideal to worse case scenario. I began to see the joy and sorrow that would come with each one and the possible ways that God could be glorified with each. I later told Lee and on another occasion (Josh and Dani Fox and Alex Chiuko) that I felt like I was trying clothes on in front of a mirror seeing what each one looked like, a little glimpse into each scenario. God could be glorified in every one, which made them equally powerful for God's purposes, making each one a viable possibility. When Lee and I officially started dating in college back at UC Davis, making the move from best friends to clearly stated romantic intentions, we sat together in an over sized beanbag chair in front of a large fish tank in the late night, prayerfully committing our relationship to God and his purposes, willing to be used in any way by God. I found myself reminded of that promise as Lee and I are now in another season where God is clearly at work. I told God last Friday night that I surrendered Lee totally and completely to Him in every way and that we today, 26 years later from that night at UC Davis, are still his servants at his disposal to be used in any way for the sake of the gospel. My prayer is that God be glorified and my desire and prayer is that He be glorified through Lee sticking around on earth for a long time.

As for PEACE, I have been on a personal journey of transformation in this area over the last 6 years and God has been preparing me for this moment. When I was recently teaching on Peace to the women of Soul Food in our most recent study on Philippians, I shared that I had failed to find God's peace in a very trying and extended challenging circumstance. I was disappointed that I could not say that "it was well with my soul." My disappointment turned to motivation to seek God's peace, the peace that passes all understanding, that guards our hearts and minds (Philippians 4:7). I wanted to be ready for the next challenging circumstance so that I could say confidently, "It is well with my soul". And there it came, Friday afternoon, sitting with the urgent care doctor. I heard the news and I thought, "it is well with my soul." Thank you God...you are so good. You are faithful to complete the good work that you have started in me (Philippians 1:6). I was content and at peace, because I knew that God would supply the strength that I needed to get through any of the upcoming scenarios. I want to quote from the Philippians Bible study by Becky Kimball regarding the verse in Philippians 4:13 that says, I can do everything through him who gives me strength. She writes " So through the strength provided by Jesus, Paul is equipped for contentment... So (too it is with us), you and I don't have to be products of our environment or our circumstances or even our human nature. We have everything we need, through Jesus, to live a life that reflects His character...We are invited into a second-by-second, closer-than-your-skin experience of God in which we are never abandoned or ignored or simply left to our own devices." If left to my own devices, I would have failed again as I had done in my previous challenging circumstance. But here I sit today, completely content and at peace because God will supply everything I need to deal with life whether it is with Lee fully restored to health, Lee in a compromised state of health, or Lee gone on to glory to live with Jesus.

And sitting there, reading the update this morning, I found a picture of what i have been thinking in my head, an example of the kind of person i want to be as i go through this life, an example of the kind of couple i can only hope to be part of one day.

brief on vegas

2009-06-15T11:06:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago, on a whim, I RSVP-ed last minute to an invite by a friend to go away to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate his college graduation. The allure of a weekend by the pool in the sun with a bunch of fun people sucked me in and I went with it. I sort of let the debauchery, gambling and notoriously seedy reputation of Vegas slip to the back of my mind and when we finally packed up the car and got on the road, I was excited to go.

Before visiting Vegas, I had only vague assumptions about what it was actually like. It was at once this legendary place I was sort of curious about (having loved Swingers and Oceans 11/12/13 and that whole Rat Pack vibe), while at the same time it seemed to be the embodiment of all I despise about the world (or America at least).

And I won’t say that all of the Vegas experience was bad. I loved the people I went with, they were fun and easy and good people to be around. Being a big, roving, parentless family set free for the weekend in a wonderland of distraction, entertainment and leisure was enjoyable, almost against the rules in a way. Fitting 14 people in a two bed suite for the weekend gave us the feeling of getting away with something akin to TP-ing your friends house or sneaking candy into a movie. Largely harmless, but somewhat against the rules, the little thrill of rebellion made us feel clever and crafty all at once.

So for the fortune of good company and the getting away for a few days and the 4 hours at the “beach” and the getting dressed up and the fantastic Mexican dinner and the MGM lions and some really great conversations, I am grateful. These all made the trip entirely worthwhile, so I won’t regret going. But for the sake of being truthful to myself and my experience, I must say that when I think of darkness and indulgence and the generally depraved state of the human race (specifically in regard to sexuality and money), I will recall my time walking the Vegas strip to help me more viscerally understand what that really means. After just a couple hours walking down the strip, I was exposed to an almost constant barrage of pornography, drunkenness, greed, indulgence and grandeur (the bad kind).

Yes, one could argue that I am slightly sheltered, working for a church and considering a game night at home with dessert just as much fun as a trip to the city for a concert. Sure, so perhaps that made me more affected than most. But I am grateful to be so sheltered as to have been shocked by the darkness of Vegas. I want my sexuality and my identity and my value for hardwork and my growing love for frugality to all remain in tact, and even on the innocent side, as I get older. I’d rather view the world with eyes of wonder and discovery than be so de-sensitized and “experienced” that nothing is new anymore.

Being thrown from one extreme to another was a good reminder, too, of how affected we are by our environments. By the end of my last day, I was so disgusted by the oversexed images I had been exposed to that I felt dirty just wearing a skirt and completely grossed out at the thought of even just kissing my boyfriend. Instead of tempting me, Vegas made sex look cheap and artificial, a commodity to seized and consumed rather than a gift to be given and received between two people committed to each other in every way.

I will give Vegas credit, though, in its ability to value entertainment and spectacle- I wish I had enough money to afford some of those amazing shows and I loved the fact that so much creativity and artistic expression was readily available for people to enjoy. Granted, some of that entertainment included some pretty washed up comedians, but that’s ok, right? At least they are working.

All this to say, I appreciated being invited and I enjoyed the friends I got to have the experience with. If I could take away all the sex/porn stuff, and the lack of natural lighting and the smoke and the drunkenness and the addictions and all the other seedy things infesting Vegas, I could see myself really enjoying it out there. and i will credit Vegas with an inspiration to write more. Me and my friend Brian U. decided to encourage each others creative output but committing to blogging once a week. So here is my first, Brian, sorry its so late :)

right now

2009-03-13T16:45:00.000-07:00

i have been running a lot more than usual lately - well not really running running, more sort of mellowly jogging. i am very much enjoying it, because its giving me more energy and helping me get some time to contemplate and talk to God. I find i talk to God better when i moving around and looking at the ocean and listening to amazing music (current favorite running music = Yppah). a couple weeks ago, i felt almost all my relationships were strained and it was frustrating me. I was running/walking/praying on the beach, asking God for answers, wanting Him to show up somehow, perhaps even subtly wanting him to justify my frustrations and make my struggles go away. As i was saying this, i looked up and saw a red mark ahead on the rocks in front of me. As i got closer, i saw it had a word above it. A few more steps and i saw. It said "MORE" and beneath it was a red heart. And i stood there smiling, looking at the MORE LOVE rock.

today, i ran again all around my neighboorhood and then on the cliffs and then to the lighthouse and then took a 20 min walk on the beach. I prayed into the wind, Yppah playing in one ear and my own voice sounding like whispers from someone behind me in the other ear (i have to pray out loud or my thoughts takeover my brain and i can't concentrate too well). my mom had just finished telling me i need to learn to be in the moment, a message i have heard far too many times without much change on my part. I walked on the beach praying and hoping no one would hear me and think i was crazy. then, ahead of me i see a tiny blonde girl playing in the waves. Her dad is watching her, holding her pink sweater and she is in bright fluorescent bathing suit and nothing matters to her right then except that she is playing in the water and that her dad is watching her. And then next to them two girls walked, a puppy between them carrying a stick in his mouth and they smiling and laughing. The puppy ran ahead and caught the eye of another blonde girl playing in the sand and they had a moment. The puppy then raced off to be with his own girls and i smiled. And i became overwhelmed. And i became happy. A few things i have loved with an inexplicable love since before i can remember are the ocean/any body of water and puppies/dogs. I was a little fish as a kid, always wanting to be in the pool or river or creek (we lived in landlocked ohio, so the ocean only became a love once we moved here when i was 5). Also as a kid, i loved dogs and would constantly be playing with ours or anyone elses who would let me. Also, i was a very blonde haired little girl.

Walking back home through the sand, smiling about puppies and blonde girls and laughter and watching fathers, i felt happy. I walked in the sand and started to walk in the deeper tracks left by cars who had crisscrossed the beach some other time or day. I started thinking about how hard patterns are to break, how easy it is for me to live in some other time, to live in expectation, to live in fear, to live in doubt and to always wonder what is next... my own thought patterns well worn and entrenched before me. Without thinking, i stepped out of the tracks into the sand where only a thousand foot steps remained, aiming myself not in a familiar well worn path, but in the direction that would most quickly lead me home.

inside and out

2009-02-17T21:17:00.001-08:00

what a delightful and life giving gift it is to share a lengthy, intense, multi-layered, dynamic conversation with someone who is engaged and engaging and interested and interesting. i have found that all the little neurons in my brain light up when i am able to have these conversations and it just fills me with so much energy and light. i feel i am at my best in these times, like something is flipped on inside of me.

i realize that this most often occurs when i am talking to other women. i am not saying i don't have profound conversations with men and that they aren't good, solid conversations... but there is something intrinsically different for me when i communicate with another woman. based on my tiny amount of knowledge about the female brain (courtesy of a book i read about halfway through called, interestingly, "the female brain") we as women are neurologically wired for connection and communication. of course there are varying levels of this, but as they study the male and female brains, they are finding that female brains are significantly different than males in our verbal and relational centers and this contributes to much of our behavior dichotomies. anyhow, i digress...

the point being that when i come off of these conversations, i am left feeling more alive inside- it's visceral, really. i think this specific convo was especially life giving because of the unique vantage points myself and my fellow conversationalist were speaking from. she admittedly stands "outside" of the Christian faith, and i would consider myself "inside." Though in most cases, these positions of inside and out would cause incredible disharmony, discord, and likely disagreement, i do not find any of those present in my conversations with this friend. and its not like we avoid the subject... in fact, the subject of faith is what fuels and enlivens the words we exchange.

one snippet that stuck out to me was the question of belonging. my friend has (until recently) only really experienced Christianity as a place where people who don't "believe," are made to feel outside of the community of believers. we conversed about the alternative, which has is roots on "the Celtic Way of evangelism." essentially instead of it being

Behave, believe, belong = Roman Evangelism (bringing people in)

it is actually

Belong, believe, behave = Celtic Evangelism (sending Christians out)

Christianity can often assume the stance of being the moral police of the world, beating people over the head with the rules of how they should "behave." Once they "behave", then they can make the choice to "believe" in God/the bible/the church and then, finally, they are allowed to "belong" to the Church (which at this point seems more like a secret fraternity or exclusive country club.)

What if, instead of being asked to jump through the hoops of first behaving and believing (which in the context of those who have already chosen to follow Jesus are important and necessary), they were asked to belong? They were extended the open arms of Christian community? Engaged in the dialogue and life and beauty and messiness of the Church?

another topic was the question of sin and repentance- why that issue is hard to face, especially when you don't feel like your life is mired in too much "morally questionable" behavior. this is a tough one, because in comparison with other "sin," many of our everyday blunders seem inconsequential or even tedious to consider when you look at the behavior of far more violent and evil people. i struggle with this, too, since i've always been a bit of a goody-two-shoes. i brought up the fact that I truly believe that self-hatred and a distorted view of self could be considered sinful behavior. I don't say that to quantify or categorize those behaviors so much as to point out that we must "repent" (or change directions) from them. to hate yourself or to hold the view of yourself as anything other than a beloved child of God is essentially telling God he made a mistake when he made you, devaluing His creation that is you and denying the fact that you are His image-bearer.

these questions kind of tie in with another thing we touched on, which is the reality that in God's kingdom, everyone is equal. we began our conversation talking about the school system, grades, prep schools and the generally misguided attempts by our culture to quantify peoples values based on test scores. she is a college professor, so this isn't some loosey-goosey hippy mama who believes we all need to live in a commune and give the finger to "the Man" (not that there is anything wrong with being like that :) ). she is a legit academic, well-written, published and accomplished, but she doesn't buy into the game. i kind of love this. though i did "play the game" and do my schoolwork and graduate college, i felt a sinking suspicion as i went through school, kindergarten to college, that the school system in general didn't necessarily care about the content of my character or my ability to love or my desire to bring change into the world. they mostly just wanted me to pass tests and behave and check the boxes and finish. of course, this isn't every one and there were a number of dynamic, amazing teachers i encountered. the people didnt seem the be the issue... by and large the system is what seemed strangely mechanistic and ultimately kind of sad.

all that to say, our shared negative views on school systems driven to "succeed" by grade fits right along with all the ideals in scripture that indicate it is the "least of these" that Jesus was most acutely aware of and caring toward. He loves us all the same, to be sure, but there was no posturing with Jesus. he wasn't about to give special rights to the rich - he asked them the hardest questions. and he wasn't tempted to play favorites with his disciples, even when they out rightly asked. jesus is so far beyond all our strategies about popularity and our ideas of who "deserves" what. he is asking us to live outside of the whole structure of culture and that makes him pretty badass if you ask me.

ok, its getting late- but other topics we touched on that i dont want to forget to expand on later

the abyss... the empty... the loneliness....why it's so hard to rest
once you start walking down the road of deep spiritual formation, can you turn back?
how do leaders wrestle with theology, yet still maintain a consistent message in their community

choosing to love

2009-02-03T17:03:00.000-08:00

i just found this image and laughed. even in the 1950's, we needed books to find and keep men. i won't lie-- the eternal search for my "soul mate" consumes much of my time and energy. being a pretty constant emotional processor, i can't help but let my mind wander and consider what "man" i will end up with and what that will all be like. my suspicion is that i probably have it just a tiny bit built up in my head. i am trying my best, in light of my girlish tendency toward the romantic, to see things more realistically. or more exactly- realistic, but also hopeful.

as cheesy as i may seem, one book that has really helped me in seeing reality of this search for love (don't laugh!) is "he's just not that into you." me and some of the gals are making a night of it this friday and going to see the movie its based on. check it:

i mean honestly, what is with the eternal search for love we seem to be on?

and truly- what, really, is love?

i am finding out, through my exhaustive personal and professional research, that most times love at its best and most real comes down to choice. love in the God way, and love in the lovey valentiney way, and love in the getting married and lasting forever way. choosing to love, especially when you don't feel like it, doesn't much feel like love to me, in the traditional, conventional way i have always viewed love. but love, if it is to last, means choosing to love someone or Someone, regardless of how you emotionally feel toward them.

i often have to ask myself - have i emotionally loved anything consistently for very long? sure, i have always loved my parents, but sometimes i haven't felt like emotionally loving them, but i chose to love them anyway. i have loved some of my dear friends for a long long time, but have there been times when my emotions towards them have waned, when i wanted to back out, when i haven't felt much toward them at all? absolutely. but have I chosen to love some of them through it and made it last? yes.

but the call to live solely out of emotional love is everywhere. if you honestly ask any girl what their idea of love is, almost every single one of them will probably immediately revert to some romantic comedy story line or some tv show that caught them and unrealistically shaped what they view "love" to truly be.

how do we let go of the addiction to emotional love? not to say its wrong... emotional love is necessary to our hearts and lives, no doubt. but its not lasting. and it does not sustain. love has to be a whole lot more than just feeling affection/romance/lust toward someone. "true" love has to be more.

true love is a choice.

the ability to choose is God's gift to us ... some brilliant theologians and thinkers i have been reading and talking to have really been making me think more deeply about this lately. God's world was designed to allow for the freedom of choice. though he strongly cautioned against it, he gave his original people the choice to eat from the tree of knowledge, even though that would end up being their downfall. this might seem mean and callous, to give us an option to cause our own demise, but God was not trying to be mean and callous when he laid out the options before these people. instead of programming the people he created to do and feel exactly what he wanted at every turn, God gave us choice... this choice factors in most importantly in how we relate to him- he wanted us to be able to choose to love him, not to be forced or programmed like robots. he wanted a creation that would be able choose him, that would be able to have a real honest, reciprocal relationship with him. real love, as defined by God from the beginning, involved both parties choosing the other.

and in allowing for the choice toward him, God also allowed for the choice away from him.

so it seems, choices and love have always been risky- even from the very start.

in all of our searching, maybe in the end what we really want is to find S/someone we want to keep choosing... and to find S/someone who will keep choosing us.

no weddings and a funeral

2008-12-31T12:52:00.000-08:00

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.

in the mess

2008-12-21T15:15:00.001-08:00

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.

go see CALL+RESPONSE

2008-10-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

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 :)

the flying

2008-08-10T17:12:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-10T16:27:00.000-07:00

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.

day two: cottage castle retreat

2008-05-11T20:25:00.000-07:00

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.

the cottage castle retreat

2008-05-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

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.

bits

2008-04-24T00:20:00.000-07:00

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...

all the things i have needed to say

2008-02-20T22:01:00.000-08:00

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.

bells resonance

2007-11-06T22:04:00.000-08:00

i have spent most of my life very acutely aware of my "issues." therapy and "deep talks" were just a part of everyday life from a very early age. my parents are, as i often say, intensity junkies and deep talkers. superficial small talk is nearly non-existent when i am with them. most of the issues and most of that acute awareness of self i have experienced has served me well and i find myself often counseling (with permission or not ;) ) most of my friends and even some acquaintances. to be candid, i often think i have a fair amount of understanding of self and of how to navigate those tumultuous emotional waters tossing and turning beneath our surfaces. but often i turn to look in me and i find myself covered in salty, dark, heavy waves i cannot even recognize as the sea at all. i find that all the navigation i thought i had done sometimes leaves me back in the same place i began.

i am currently taking a class on spiritual formation that i am convinced every single person who claims to follow jesus should take at one point. it is filled with the most simple truth and profound reality that i have yet to encounter in my faith... all the hints of what felt right in different christian settings and all the glimmers of what hope might look like in conversation and all the deep wisdom of such profound texts seems to be reflected in the content of this course. i dont want to be one of those people who says "try this [book/class/church/group/____], it will change your life" but if i had to choose one thing that i would say that about, its this.

i cant even go into all i have learned so far... its all so fresh, but at the same time, all so timeless, ((argh, i could write a book))-- but tonight seemed to illuminate something in me. so much movement happened in my heart, so many things rang true, so much was spoken just for me, it felt. a knot has been knitted in my throat, emotions just waiting to become real, its scary to think of letting that floodgate go. its still there, making it slightly hard to breathe.

you see, i am learning/understanding how to articulate a profound truth that we all see and experience life through a grid. first, before the grid, i learned that our perceptions of the world are formed very intensely in two periods of life-- a collection of images in our pre-verbal stage and a dependence on physical touch from others builds our early experience and impacts how we understand our place in the world and our value to others... am i accepted? am i lovable? am i worthy? before we are 3, mom is the primary giver of our acceptance, love, worth. then, in our pre-teens, we move away from dependence on mom (we were connected so deeply in the womb, we must naturally seperate and find ourselves away from her) and seek approval from dad, who tells us how to behave. if i am his daughter, i define the reality of my feminity based on how dad reacts to my change from girl to woman. if i am his son, i define my very masculinity on what he shows me and how he accepts me.

so the grid. through it we see our life. much of our grid can be good-- accomplishments, moments of love and acceptance, growth, healthy development. we see clearly through these spots, experience the reality of how life should be. but we also have these marred parts of the grid. the parts where things went wrong. mark #1: dad left before i became a woman... i can't trust that anyone will actually love me and stay with me... i am afraid of being left. mark #2: mom was chaotic and untrustworthy... i won' t be safe or provided for... i must be totally self sufficient. our marred grid spots keep us from the freedom to live without fear, keeps us from living in the fullness of how our creator has made us.

putting the intensity of my already hyper-aware mind together with the way this class articulates how we experience life at these deeper levels, i find this to be the best thing ever. not because it solves all the problems and not because it makes things easier. it just gives me voice. and words. makes these dark waves a little more clear.

so... do we have to live with these marred grids? must we always keep coming back to the same spots, realizing they block our view, making our perception of reality false?

they are etched into us, yes, and will always be there... but we have a choice as to whether we live by them, or whether we live in the freedom we find beyond them.

there are those bells that ring in those quaint small towns on the hour. you have to pull at them, those ones in the big bell tower. even after you pull on them enough times as there are hours, they keep on ringing, the ropes moving up and down with the bells weight. but as the bells stop being pulled, their sound gets fainter and fainter, the resonance lighter, till you can't really hear them anymore. we always have the bells, and they ring... but maybe when we know them well enough, know what they are, and why they are, we only experience the fainter resonance of their sound... once a day... then once a week... then once a month...

then, just once in a while.

2007-10-13T09:10:00.000-07:00

three days ago calls came in and flights were boooked. my birthday became preparation and washed by. friends faithful through it, one seeing my tears and weakspots and being steady in spite. long sleepless flights, body aching. seeing her wheeled in, i put my face near hers as the sun broke in and she smiles. would this be her last october?

death feels poetic when family flocks from everywhere...when people cancel and miss and excuse and fly great distances... when tears come spontaneously, in sad and glad...when hospice nurses observe 20 people squeeze into her small soft lit room to pray "our fathers" and "hail marys" and "now i lay me down to sleep," to say nice things before she falls asleep....

death is not poetic when the amublance drivers almost drop her as they transfer her from gurney to bed.... when hours of waiting produce guilty boredom.... when she can't use the bathroom on her own... when you just let her smoke one more cigaratte because it doesnt matter at this point

she does not have enough time

there is not enough time

2007-10-09T22:26:00.000-07:00

there is not enough time for all the music i want to listen to
there is not enough time for all the books i want to read
there is not enough time for all the magazines i subscribe to to be worth it
there is not enough time for all the amazing movies to be seen
there is not enough time for all the conversations i want to have
there is not enough time for all the questions i want answered
there is not enough time for all the places i want to see
there is not enough time for all the people i want to meet
there is not enough time for all the pages i want to absorb from the word that never fails
there is not enough time for all the ways i want to love
there is not enough time for all the things i want to learn
there is not enough time for me to sit and think
there is not enough time to cry
there is not enough time to be lazy
there is not enough time to stare out the window and wonder
there is not enough time to ride bikes in the sun
there is not enough time to absorb life happening in all the small ways around me
there is not enough time
there is not enough time
there is not enough tme
there is not enough time

she does not have enough time

chosing hope.

2007-09-06T23:52:00.000-07:00

its been a church heavy time. i have been so immersed in church busy-work this last 2 weeks, its not the kind you hate, but a good busy-ness, so many good things ahead. its been interesting over the past 3.5 years working in a church setting because you get all sorts of different perspectives on what church means... some people love the church (as in the organized church that usually meets sundays and has ministries, etc) and cant get enough- it's their lifeline, group of friends, place to serve, sense of belonging- essentially, it's their family. others have been deeply wounded by the church--"burned by the church" is a term i hear almost daily. and i think both of these people are valid in their view and dont discredit or undermine their experiences or any experience that lands somewhere on the huge gray scale between the love and hate relationship we can have with "the church." because of all the "church" focus, i am having all these thoughts swimming around in my brain about "church"... if i may....

someone saying they have been "burned by the church" is almost analogous to someone saying that they have been hurt by another human being. its bound to happen to anyone and everyone at some point, especially because the church is made up of a bunch of fallen people. but just like when one person hurts another, there needs to be apologies. and just like in person to person relationshops, there needs to be forgiveness, even when you don't feel like it. and both sides need to recognize the part they played in the "hurt," because often times its miscommunication... or unmet/unrealized expectations... or a whole plethora of other relational glitches we have all experienced.

no matter where you go, what organization you are part of, who you hang out with, how hard you try... things are always going to be at least slightly messed up and broken, if not totally messed up and utterly broken. you can look at any organization (including a church) or business or group of collected people, secular or non, and there are bound to be dysfunctions, disagreements, dis-satisfaction, and more. people are messed up. fallen. broken. prideful. sinful. some organizations and groups are more healthy than others, but all, every single one of them, is in process. they may be caught up in dysfunction at the moment and have no awareness of a need to change. or they could be coming out of dysfunction, on the path to healing and wholeness collectively. but no one, no group, no human-involved thing is without flaw. this does not mean we allow for brokenness to permeate and become the way we function. no. no way. we are just constantly looking forward, not worrying that we aren't enough or that we aren't where others are (collectively or individually), but we just ask "what is my next step in this?" (mark scandrette taught me that). and i just feel that if we can truly internalize these things, really allow the truth of our brokenness and the hope of our continual restoration, to just live in us-- man, it would just change the world.

there is hope. oh, oh, do i believe it. i have heard about lots of people becoming "dis-enfranchised" from the church, in various places and for various reasons. this makes me sad, often it makes me doubt what i do as a person in paid ministry and makes me want to give up hope. but hope, hope is everywhere. i see it so plainly. re-imagine in sf is this amazing group of people committed to exist in a real kingdom way, in a neighborhood, covenanted around 7 values, striving to live in the way of jesus and yearning to make a difference in the lives of those around them. not an "organized church" in the traditional sense, it is jesus' church in every sense. and they are aware of their shortcomings, weaknesses, questions, failings. and though they don't "go to church" or have meetings in the same way, they still support and encourage more traditional churches, helping their leaders understand community values, even training one churches entire set of small group leaders. we got to have some members of their community come play music in our coffeehouse-- they form a band, the cobalt season, and they are "hopeful protest music." perfect. love it. i got to chat to them and some others who came from re-imagine and it was so refreshing not only to hear bits about what re-imagine is up to, but also to see their openness and their encouragement of what we were doing in our church setting. similarly, theodyssey is an organization that hosts intense 9 month spiritual formation courses- anyone from any church (or even anyone not part of a church at all) are able to take classes, and the leader, dave, works with local church leaders and members in the bay area, in portland and in other parts of the country. though he is part of a home church, he still believes in the mission of the local church and helps its leaders pursue a healthier and more holistic view of spiritual formation. even tonight, we met with many members of a smaller, denominational church we have partnered with in town. in pursuit of joining with them, we had an open meeting sharing why we wanted to join, and explaining that though it meant sacrifice on both parts, we believed joining as one was essential for the pursuit of the kingdom in santa cruz. during the course of the night, person after person from their small church came up to share why they thought joining together was essential. each one kept pointing to God's larger purpose in all of this, to the mission of seeing people of all ages, from all backgrounds and experiences, welcomed and loved in the way of Jesus. i was near tears for most of it, i just couldnt believe it. its all of these encounters, and many more, that give me hope.

re-reading this, i may be viewed as an eternal optimist, someone not in tune with the suffering or the "reality" of the world around me. this is not true and the darkness and brokeness of the world is often laid heavy on my heart and i have wrestled, especially these last months, with my place in being a small part of a redemptive movement to help this dark and dying world. but i figure i can wallow in the reality of the broken all the time, or i can allow it to touch me and affect me and permeate me to an extent and then chose to recognize that the only force for change that offers any actual hope or real change or absolute redemption is the saving power of our creator chosing us and love us and pursuing us with unrelenting, uncompromised, and unbelievable passion. and if it is my aim to be part of that force, then i can't help but see hope.

mystics and relvolutionaries

2007-08-29T00:31:00.000-07:00

in the midst of my almost incessant thinking about how to affect change in the world, i began reading/continued reading "the wounded healer" by henri nouwen. its never a linear journey through a book for me, i have these problems.

i don't even want to try to explain his wisdom and insights, i will just leave a quote to express where my heart rests currently on the issue:

"it is my growing conviction that in jesus the mystical and the revolutionary ways are not opposites, but two sides of the same human mode of experiential transcendence [he has early argued that modern humanity is searching for meaning through experiential transcendence in a mystical way or in a revolutionary way, as two totally separate pursuits]. i am increasingly convinced that conversion is the individual equivalent of revolution. therefore, every real revolutionary is challenged to be a mystic at heart, and he who walks the mystical way is called to unmask the illusory quality of human society. mysticism and revolution are two aspects of the same attempt to bring about radical change. no mystic can prevent himself from becoming a social critic, since in self-reflection he will discover the roots of a sick society. similarly, no revolutionary can avoid facing his own human conditions, since in the midst of his struggle for a new world, he will find he is also fighting his own reactionary fears and false ambitions"

death

2007-08-21T17:37:00.000-07:00

i had a dream last night that my brother died. it was the most helpless feeling, he had been there, cracking jokes, laughing, being his normal little brother self. then just gone. gone. i woke up with tears on my face and desperation.

death has felt present these last months, and though its always everywhere, right now, i feel like its right here. not ominous. just present.

both my grandmothers face it simultaneously. one, sick for 20 years with diabetes and all the ways its tearing her body apart. she is scared to die, scared to leave her husband, scared she will miss out on life here. she knows she will be with God when she goes and wants more than anything for her whole family to be with Him. she prays all the time for my family, she says. though she believes in heaven, she is scared to die. the other, sick for the last few years from the effects of smoking since she was 12, is not scared to die, but is not letting go easily. one moment, she will be ready to let go, refusing to eat and drink. the next, she wants to go to the hospital for an iv. her daughters don't know how she wants to die. she wants more than anything for the whole family to believe in God and be together in heaven. she prays every night for my sister, brother, dad.

my mothers co-worker recently died, inexplicably. she was in her 30's, a preschool teacher. they closed the preschool last week one day for the funeral. they dont know what happened.

a bicyclist was killed on a major road in town a few weeks ago. a semi-truck, a wrong turn. and he is gone.

a few months ago, a friend lost a sibling to suicide. his art hangs on our coffeehouse walls, reminding us of potential we think was cut short in his decision... perhaps of potential realized just in time. i could not understand my friends pain until last nights dream. now in the smallest ways, its present, next to me.

what of death tasted and then retreating? before last nights dream, my roommate and i had talked about near-death experience... the "unconditional love" some say they feel in the moments when faced with death. 90 minutes in heaven, one pastor claims, is what he experienced before returning back to live out the rest of his days having tasted the ultimate unknown.

one of our pastors revels in reminding us, in an oddly endearing way, that when we see the elderly people who come mondays and fridays to use our church building, that all of us will be there someday, will all someday pass away.

its the only guarantee we have of anything, beyond our birth.

after her co-workers death, my mother spoke with someone close to us who reads the obituaries everyday. she does it, habitually, thinking if she knows about death enough, the age of death, the cause, perhaps she can control or understand it more or somehow get it. she feels that being older, with no more kids in the house, with many of her dreams accomplished already, with nothing to look forward to, really, that she has no purpose. and so death is all there is. and death is scary, completely unknown.

a few weeks ago, we visited one of our oldest and newest church members in the icu. she lay there, as we entered, glowing. the doctors had pulled all the machines keeping her alive. she had made this decision, she said, and was at peace with it. and she was right. peace, peace. just peace. so simple and uncomplicated. she was facing the biggest unknown, the thing most of us fear the most and she was doing it with confidence. i am not sure i had seen such beauty. we got to spend a few moments with her on one of her last days on earth, praying with her, touching her hand. she passed the next week. her daughters told us the doctors commented that they never see people die with such peace and dignity like she did.

i am not sure what to think if this all. death still elludes me. what it will be like. what it will feel like. but i think i know how i want to go. with peace and confidence. dignity. unafraid.

addiction....

2007-08-15T00:32:00.000-07:00

...is so fascinating to me, which sounds terrible because it destroys everything it touches. but i think it explains a lot about god.

addiction messes up your pleasure centers- once you have indulged in an addictive behavior enough, a chemical reaction (or something like that) happens in you and it begins to tell the pleasure center of your brain that you can only be happy if you are doing that behavior. and the desire in us to access the pleasure center that allows us happiness is an extremely powerful drive. so when its messed up and reprogrammed, things are not good. once those chemicals mess with your pleasure center, stopping your brain from thinking that drinking/having sex/shooting up/working/shopping/eating/(insert addiction here) is not the center of all your happiness is nearly impossible.

which makes sense.

god asks us to be extreme sometimes. and sometimes he asks us to walk the line between two extremes. sometimes he tells us its better to be in the middle than go too far one way. the fact that our brains are basically wired for moderation makes me feel like god is real. because he made our bodies and brains in line with his ways. he knows its not good for us to overindulge in certain things of this earth because he knows the only thing we can really overindulge in and never come away sick or addicted or broken from is pursuing him and his kingdom in a healthy way. he jealously wants our whole selves and has created our brains in a way that we must moderate what exactly we put inside of us and what we surround ourselves with. when we don't, something inside us becomes broken.

but what's even better about God is that when we often fail to keep ourselves from extremity and addiction (because we are all addicted to many things, if we think about it honestly), he still redeems us. still heals us. still picks us up off the ground and teaches us to keep walking.

there is no place more comfortable for me than in an aa meeting. its the environment i grew up in, the aa crowd, and i loved it so much. these people know brokenness, failure, destitution, the view from the bottom. but that much more, they know mercy, forgiveness, humility, grace. they are the realest group of people i know. i wish the church was more like them in seeing the deep brokenness we all carry around, admitting it as a reality openly and still getting up everyday and facing life with the belief that we can be redeemed.

what recovering addicts know is how to live out of their broken state. when we can truly learn to live out of our broken state, we can truly learn the meaning of humility. and in humility, grace.

keeping up with the mrs. jones'

2007-08-09T09:25:00.000-07:00

i had a dream last night that i was eaten alive by fruit flies. i was married and trying to help console a friend in the middle of the night. upon returning to my bed and my husband, i discovered a trail of ants in the sheets that suddenly turned into fruit flies and attacked me, biting and itching until there was no more of me left. it was those little tiny things that killed me. i woke up disturbed, the light outside still dark.

before sleep last night, i spent a glamorous night on the town with ten beautiful women for a birthday party. all fancied up with our high heels on, we were the epitome of youth and beauty and vibrance. well, they were. in comparison to so much womanhood, i felt like a little girl pretending. too skinny, too awkward, not the right outfit, the wrong hair and a bad sexy face (you will have to ask them about that), how did i fit in? one of them, newly married mrs jones, explained her engagement and marriage to me. she is just my age, i think, but seemed so much more in stature and confidence. as i looked around, i felt each woman, single, married or dating, held such beauty in who they were, unique and exuberant, all their outsides communicated an easy grace and a fitting in. i will feel this way from time to time, and more so as i get older... but last night, in comparison, i did not.

and its that little thing of comparison that's been killing me, i realize. in comparison to women who are married, i am alone. in comparison to people who have travelled extensively, i am static. in comparison to my college friends, i am a square. in comparison to the adventurous, i am mundane. in comparison to the brave, i am weak and fearful. in comparison to the on-the-town, i am at home. in comparison to the real missionaries, i am comfortable.

in these comparisons, life sometimes feels a race where i didnt realize we were supposed to leave the start line awhile ago.

but, in the grand narrative, the real reality, i am not responsible to be anyone other than what i am. in all this comparison, i am losing sight of this person, this girl, this woman my creator intended. in comparison, i have tried to acquire things and ways that i am not.

i am not eaten alive by small things, but they are itching at me.

redemption on a bad day

2007-07-30T00:03:00.000-07:00

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/

rounding out the top 10...

2007-07-07T17:51:00.000-07:00

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.

new zealand top 5 so far

2007-07-01T19:10:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-05-30T16:46:00.000-07:00

there is this thing waiting for me.

i tried to avoid it for a really long time, only touching on the very edges of it and sometimes stepping in maybe for a moment, but then recoiling, realizing what it would mean to stay. but its been coming after me, slowly, around my edges, and i am both terrified and curious about what it will do to me.

i began to read "rich christians in an age of hunger" last night, a book originally written in the 1970's, but recently republished. though a few things have circumstantially changed, the message within is the same. i am only about 20 pages in, but last night it messed me up so much that i couldnt sleep. when i woke up this morning, i had a vague sense of shift in me, and upon arriving to work, where there were and are hours and hours of work and busy-ness waiting for me, i let what i felt last night slip away.

a few hours ago, i realized the church was having its monthly clothes closet and food pantry in the gym. i had promised roberta and bill that i would visit to check things out. in the 18 or so months we have had our offices here at mission st, i have stepped foot in to that ministry maybe twice. honestly, i avoided it and wanted to avoid it today. but i made myself go over there, because i knew i needed to.

entering, i knew i would have to see things that made me uncomfortable. the smell of unshowered was there, mixed with mass produced food and sweat. i felt immediately like an imposter there, like someone pretending to understand. i wanted to find a face i knew, so i slipped back into the kitchen and there was roberta. she welcomed me and then took dessert back out to the gym, leaving me alone again. i wished i could be hiding back in my office upstairs, safe. i followed her back in there and then went to char, who was helping to organize and watch the clothes tables. after chatting with her for awhile, i realized i was completely ignoring the 50 people who sat eating quietly in the gym, who were here needing. but who was i to think i had anything to offer?

during the course of the next hour, i pushed myself to make conversation with some of the people there. initially, i was terrified to put myself out there to them, thinking they would reject me and find my privilege an insult. instead, they let me slip in to adjoining seats and ask simple questions and laugh with them, listening, and trying to relate. i am no saint, having nothing to offer them except my ears and my heart, to try to understand them. some were happy to chat, others put off, lots in between. at one point, allen and harry, a couple of characters who called a camp in the woods home, began teasing michele and her husband tom. they were obviously all close, family. michele told me not to believe any of them. they laughed around, knowingly, teasing. there was a lot just below michele's eyes and she was forcing herself not to show anyone.

then, a beautiful woman about my age came in, long hair and freckles and strong. she carried lyla, 2 or 3 years old and adorable. this woman began chatting with michele and tom, telling them she was done with finals and was about to begin working as a medical assistant. she chased lyla, laughing with allen and harry as they teased her about being a kid wrangler. i asked how they knew each other and michele told me "from the streets." i watched them interacting and it was so natural, except the woman was working, rising, living outside of their world. how she went from "the streets" to being a mother and student and now a professional, i didnt know, but wanted to ask so badly. i excused myself and after speaking with some of the other leaders, i found myself drawn back up here, to my desk, having to "get back to work."

but i dont know that i can do much else today, cause my heart feels both empty and disgusted, and full and ready. i have always been drawn to want to help "make a difference" in the world around me, always wanted to be part of some social change that was tangible and real. and i love that my job is in "ministry" where i can be part of local church, where out heart beats for the mission of drawing closer to God and helping others draw close to him, too. this is not necessarily a profitable or glamorous place, though we do all make a living at it and there is a weird little celebrity that develops when you are up in a front a few hundred people every week. regardless, i know that what i do makes a difference and thats a gift i must always be reminded to thank God for.

in that vein, i am beginning to feel and wonder if part of what happens when you are in church leadership is that you become a barometer of sorts. if your own journey with God begins to take twists and turns that change and mature your way of viewing the world, perhaps that becomes an indicator of where the ministry will begin to go. not to say ministry should be run by personalities, but when you are part of helping to make decisions for a church community, your can't help but allow your heart and your passions to influence what decisions you make and where you want to direct your energies.

next to my bed, the following books are scattered:

good news and good works
rich christians in an age of hunger
the irresistible revolution
the revolution: a field manual for changing your world
how people grow
the inner voice of love

their words are permeating me, slowly, surely. i can't get away from what they speak into me and i can't get away from the feeling that there is so much more to understand, to be, to know. there is something waiting for me in them, beyond them. i could not be more terrified or relieved.

part monk, part two

2007-05-18T10:27:00.000-07:00

the first night became simply wonderful in its simplicity. my fear dissipated after i contented myself to eat and read and fall asleep early. the meal was wonderful, just so simple and healthy. i sat at the desk provided and saw myself in the windows reflection, eating alone, and it was comforting to know that i was capable of this. i still remember the yummy bread i ate and the soup tasting so good. i spent the rest of the night finishing c.s. lewis' "the great divorce" which is basically now one of my favorite books ever and it only took me about 4 years to get through, with multiple stops and starts. i fell into a deep sleep and couldnt get up until about 9:30am, which was hard, since i missed the 7am service i had planned on attending. but my body wanted this sleep, craved it. it found opportunity to rest and forced my mind to let it be. i got up, got breakfast, read some more in my backyard, which was basically amazing, the view was unreal.

the 2nd service, the 11:30am "Eucharist", was a little easier to feel part of, since i had been to one already. this time one of the monks gave a message, which i cant remember the content of, except i remember thinking how different his perspective on life must be as one who lives in this kind of community and has committed to such a unique lifestyle, different than most american's will ever know. i was mostly struck by his sincerity and honesty. and i felt safe.

we then gathered into the adjacent circular simple room with the beautiful wood ceiling and cross and took Eucharist. it felt so sacred, and everyone took it very seriously and solemnly. as some of the monks sang and prayed and read from an ancient looking book, i felt like something weighty and holy was about to happen. i cant remember all the details, i waited too long to record this, but i do know i remember seeing them hold the bread and wine up, face turned into the natural light beaming down from the center of the ceiling, praying and acknowledging this holy act. we all lined up and one by one, took the bread from one of the monks, who told us as we bowed to the bread, "this is Christ's body, broken for you." we then went on to the next monk holding wine, which we bowed before, as he told us "this is Christ's blood, shed for you" and we sipped the real wine, so strong and smelling so rich.

as i walked away from the church, having taking communion with 22 monks and a handful of retreatants, it occurred to me that they do this every single day. i could see it feeling "special" even once a week, but every day, wow. they seemed to still have such reverence for it, such special attention paid, while i think once a month sometimes feels too often.

the afternoon was spent reading "how we are hungry" by dave eggers at the nearby beach and park, drifting in and out of sleep, the wind blowing, warm and cold, sunlight and clouds. little details felt significant and wonderful during this time. i found myself missing my parents cat for some reason when i was at the beach, and when i wandered over to the bookstore later on, a cat lay sprawled on the deck and we hung out. i have a deep love for cookies, and that cookie jar was always full in the monks kitchen. i took a shower and the water warm on my sandy cold skin was just about the best feeling i could have asked for.

the 2nd evening "vespers" spoke the most deeply to me, as i was really struggling to connect in a real way to God. working in ministry, i feel like i am saturated in "God" stuff, and connecting to it as if it were so "other" feels impossible, because of its seeming familiarity and my ability to somehow assume that the mystery of God can become mundane. as we sung, i didnt connect to the words, but the passion with which they were sung meant something to me. and as we ventured to spend another 30 minutes in silence, i began practicing some of the stuff yancey mentions in his new book "prayer"--

intentionally recognizing God's perspective and position as being all-seeing, all-knowing, the creator over all

intentionally recognizing ourselves as being part of His creation and not the ones who know it all... basically admitting our helplessness

intentionally thanking Him for creating and loving us and recognizing all He has done for us.

intentionally asking for His help in all the things we need Him for (basically everything)

And in doing this, slowly, bit by bit, i began to feel something wash over me. But it was so slow. I had felt this before, in little flashes, over the years. i just dont slow down enough to let it stay. here i was, though, in silence, with others in silence. and this was the time and place to begin trying. and so it happened that i felt God there, again, in the deepest part of my soul, realizing He never really leaves, and He never not listens. i just often cant sense these subtle things in all my rushing.

i imagined him, in front of me, taking my face into his hands - "i love you, kristin, i love you." and not that then he was next to me, but in me. and we spent time in silence there.

after, i got up and took a walk, sensing His presence that is never absent but often ignored, and we talked. i told him everything He already knew. it just felt good to say it out loud for some reason. and he showed me things.

the rest of the visit remained at the simple, slow pace i had settled into. i wandered the bookstore and bought things to help me be reminded. i met with a monk named john who understood and talked and prayed with me, just like any friend on this journey. i drove away sad to leave, but so grateful that i had had this here. i hope to carry this place around with me for the rest of my life.

part monk

2007-05-11T13:08:00.000-07:00

last week, i had the privilege of visiting a monastery in the hills of big sur. it came on a recommendation from what i like to call my "life coach", which is a funny way of referring to one of our school of theology teachers who i have met with a few times seeking counsel about my ever elusive "future plans" and what i am going to do with my life. he teaches a class at Berkeley for college kids who are trying to figure out what to do with their lives and about what vocation and "calling" really is... its not a "religious" class, but he weaves scripture and christian themes into it and is teaching an abbreviated version for our community this summer. he had told me about his retreat experience at this monastery about a month ago and i wanted to try it out. i got it in my mind that i needed to do something like this, however against my nature it seemed. so i called. though it usually has a 6 month wait to get a room, i got a booking within a few weeks. last wednesday drove up there in search of the "contemplative" life.

in the weeks building up to my trip to the New Camodoli Hermitage (http://www.contemplation.com/) i was feeling an uncomfortable pull on my heart and energy from my job and the community i serve with. as a staff member and leader in a local church, its easy to take on this "role," which is hard to find words for, but for me, it feels like in my role, i am identified as an unending source of information and connection in our community. which most times is very fun for me and gives me energy and life. but as with most roles, you can't live in them at all times and if you have to stay in them too long, you begin to resent them, to try and wiggle your way out, to escape. and this would be easy, if i had a regular 9-5...if the church community didnt mean so much to me.... if part of my own heart and faith experience weren't so wrapped up this church. i am sure most pastors and church staff feel this to a degree and i am not articulating it half as well as some, but all this to say that i had been feeling pulled at, and needed, and pretty much sucked dry by the time i was ready to head out to the monastery last wednesday.

i was told to imagine that as i drove the coast towards my destination, the hands reaching for me here were just falling away one by one. so i did that, and i felt free... me and the coast and the broken social scene soundtrack and no grasping or needing.

I was late getting there. the sign came just after lucia and i made my way for 2 miles up a perfect windy road and even the smallest signs of towns and worlds dropped away and it felt like i was driving up into somewhere that doest really exist.

the monastery is on a hillside and is simple. they had left a map for me on the bookstore door and i found my way to my room, part of a 60's looking building perched perfectly so every room had an enclosed back yard and an ocean view. i had an hour until the night service began and so i unpacked a bit, and read all the little notes all over the place, which instructed on eating and the various meetings/services offered and misc details for each "retreatants" stay. we were to be in silence everywhere except the bookstore and the driveway, to respect those on silent retreats. my first instinct was to mention this to someone around me and talk about how amazing it was to have this vow of silence sort of forced on you. but, there was no one with me and of course, there was that vow.

On the wall next to the bed was a framed sign that said "St Romulauds Brief Rule" and i read it and felt something wash over me.

i went into the communal kitchen, which was so endearing and cozy, with a sign "SILENCE: be still and know that I am GOD".... look how cozy and adorable this place is, i thought, with all the little notes and the food stocked and a jar of cookies! again, no one to tell this to. everyone gets a set of dishes and utensils to eat in their rooms and they can eat as they wished-- "well thats a good idea," i thought, "isn't that a great-" and i was then immediately faced with the fact that no one but me and God got to hear my thoughts for the next 2 days. i was temporarily filled with anxiety about this and felt so alone, i wanted to cry.

the 6pm service, i think called "vespers", began in this simple, warm church, which was also a place of silence except for singing and the monks leading the service. i entered late and it smelled of that lovely oil candle smell, kind of like a catholic church. it was warm and quiet, save for the melodic, monotonous sound of the singing. i noticed everything, drank everything in, couldnt stop staring at the details and the setting and the people. it was not out of the ordinary by the way it looked, but by the way it made me feel. i picked up a book to follow with the songs and couldnt find my place. i felt everyone looking at me and got red and embarrassed. one of the monks came over to help me find my place and so i fell into line. i couldnt engage my mind with the service except when we would bow to sing the last part of every song. it was so different than anything i had experienced before, i felt overwhelmed.

after the singing, we all filed into the adjacent room, which was round, and beautiful, warm wood walls, with a cross suspended from the center and simple pads and pillows to sit on. everyone bowed to the cross as they entered. everyone circled up on the edges. an old monk, one of the oldest, came from another side room, arms extended high up over his bent, aging back, his white robe hanging off of his thin frame, holding a small icon of what i assumed was jesus. everyone stood for a second and then somehow, all knew to sit down at the same time and get comfortable. 30 minutes of silence followed.

i couldn't stop watching everyone, so curious about what they were thinking and processing. i finally went inside my own self and found i could not be still. i drifted in and out of prayer, i felt a quick sense of peace, and then fear, loneliness, wonder. i fell asleep for a bit. i watched, waited. nothingness. quiet. time felt so long. it went on forever. surely its been an hour and i kept waiting for them to stop us, how could they let this go so far over the allotted 30 minutes? and more waiting finally, they tapped a round bowl that left a soft ringing sound for about 30 seconds. everyone then got up slowly, exited, bowing to the cross as they left.

i was lightheaded, going back to my room, noticing the dramatic, unreal views of the big sur coastline along the driveway. i went into my room, warm and easy from the windy, chaotic outside. the clock read 7. the silence had only been 30 minutes. and it was only 7.

what would i do with myself til i would drift to sleep in silence?

the choice we keep making

2007-04-27T17:51:00.000-07:00

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

2007-04-25T12:53:00.000-07:00

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

2007-04-24T00:29:00.000-07:00

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...

2007-04-20T01:11:00.000-07:00

....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

2007-04-17T00:55:00.000-07:00

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

2007-04-09T00:59:00.001-07:00

((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

more on breathing

2007-03-30T22:39:00.000-07:00

yesterday, i visited my grandfather in the icu. last week, he was having trouble breathing and my mom noticed it on the phone. a couple days after my mom mentioned her concern, he fell over in his house, hitting his rib cage, collapsing his lung. while in the hospital for that, they discovered some sort of serious intestinal infection that has rendered him almost unconscious for the past 6 days. my grandmother, who he normally takes care of full time since he retired, was released this week from the hospital after what they thought was congestive heart failure. because grandpa can't care for her, she's now staying in a retirement village alone until grandpa can join her when he is released from the regular hospital.

walking into the icu, i didnt have a clue what i would see, except the warnings from my family that he "didnt look good" and they'd never seen him this way and i didnt have a clue how i would feel, except perhaps sad and maybe overwhelmed, but i think if you expect overwhelmed, its hard to get there.

entering his room, i saw my aunt standing next to him and how he moved his eyes from her to me, but it was only just the slits of his eyes. and he moved his mouth, but just the corners, up a bit, "hi kris." and i wanted to touch him, but we can't, he might be contagious. and i wanted to hug him, but there were all these tubes in and out and monitors beeping, warning. and i wanted to say something, anything, to make it different, but i can't, because there wasnt anything.

"hi grandpa"

and his head was back and forth and he ached a bit from all the tubes and discomfort and he wanted to say something, to be something else, to be the man i knew, who never even had a cold and who took care of everyone else and who wasnt this.

we exchanged a few words, but it took him a long time to respond to anything i said, his mouth just open, wanting to form words.... but it only just short breaths, just stifled air.

"grandpa.," i said, scared that what i would say would go nowhere, "this week, we were just learning about how the name of God, when spoken in the language of the bible, sounded just like these short breath sounds. and how breathing was a really important part of representing our faith... and how some people think that in some mysterious way, just our breathing is speaking the name of God. So dont worry about saying anything to us, or to him, just work on your breathing. Cause He can hear it, He knows your breaths." and he just scrunched up his face like he wanted to cry, saying my name, "kris, oh kris" and i want to think he got it, that somehow inside, he understood.

"i love you, i love you."

"i love you, so much."

he was having a hard time not talking, and was in so much pain, needing medication, needing rest. so we started to go. i leaned over and prayed for him, prayed for strength and healing and peace. and thanked God for the way this man, who has spent the last 20 years caring, many of them full time, for my grandma, whose diabetes have caused a very slow decline of her body.

two things kept going through my mind.

i kept remembering his rosary, which he kept by his armchair-- evidence of his faith, which he spoke about only a little bit, and acted on almost all the time. so i knew this prayer meant something to him.

and i kept being reminded of the fact that he has laid down his life for my grandmother, just as Christ laid down his life for the Church. he laid down his life for her, he laid down his life for her... i just kept hearing it.

breathe

2007-03-28T20:19:00.000-07:00

I found out recently that I don’t know how to breathe.

We watched rob bells newest nooma video, breathe, at our prayer meeting this past Monday night. It was the third time I had seen it, and its all about the spiritual significance of breathing… how the greek word for Lord was "YHWH" and the way it was pronounced or spoken was as vowels, essentially as breathing sounds, as breath. And so rob bell does, as only rob bell can, an incredible job of weaving an engaging narrative/stream of conscious monologue around this metaphor/reality (are spiritual metaphors only metaphors to our practical minds? Are they, in fact, not metaphor but the simple reality of our existence as creatures of God? Is breathing itself speaking the name of God?). And as he spoke about the fact that most of our breath should be from our stomach (deep breath) and less from our chest (shallow breath) and that it gives us 90% of our energy, but the average person only taps in to 10-20% of the energy breath offers, and about how as a whole, our society is so harried and so busy and so stressed, that it takes 4 times more breaths per minute than we are supposed to, I found myself unable to even breathe just thinking about it. I became suddenly conscious of my most basic bodily function (one that, perhaps, in some mysterious way is simply speaking the name of God constantly, from my first to last breath, just breathing his Name) and realized I don’t think I know how to breathe. Because when I started paying attention to my breathing and where it comes from (mostly my chest) and how often (too often), I began to confuse the natural rhythm I thought I had with the learned way I actually breathe. Am I breathing too shallowly? Am I breathing too fast? Am I doing it wrong? Have I learned to do it wrong from the beginning and now I need to relearn? Shouldn’t this just come naturally?

This was the third time I had seen this video in a week, and each time, I got self conscious about my breathing, trying to breathe well, but not being able to think my way through it. and still writing this and suddenly being conscious of it again,

I am worried I don’t know how to breathe.

answers

2007-03-22T16:03:00.000-07:00

i feel like i have been answering a lot of questions... for work, mostly, because i am the go to girl for most anything. but when people come to you with those deeper questions- concerning tragedy, direction, possibility, hope, clarity, clarification, confusion- i begin to wonder if i am in any place to say a thing.

i think, in all my desire to fix the world, i want to have the answers. but to continually perpetuate my worldview and my experiences (which are the thing with which i have shaped my answers by), i get worried.

cause what if my worldview is wrong?

what if my experiences don't cross all the divides between us?

what if what i see right now is nothing compared to what i will see then?

cause this person i am now is so far from what i was even just a year ago.

can i settle on leaving things at a question mark?

the inability to stop hoping

2007-03-07T09:54:00.000-08:00

in coming out of something you expected to work- a relationship, a job, a friendship, anything of true significance to the heart- you have a hard time letting go of it. even if you logically understand that it was not good for it to continue, or that it had to end, or that you had no choice for whether it ended it or not and you have to accept where it is right now- you still hold on to the hope it promised you at the time of it being good/healthy/present. why? can't our logic overide our emotion here? why do we cling to hope in something that is finished?

i am watching that in many ways, in many people i know, in myself- that inability to stop hoping. even after so much time has passed, even after all discussion has been had, and all conclusions drawn, the tiniest bit of hope can still remain. you have reasoned every reason, but light still shines somewhere in that dark room with the door closed, uninvited. unexpected.

though painful in so many ways, because it can rob you of whats right now, i realized last night that i actually should find it inspiring, this inability to stop hoping. maybe hope is so strong, so powerful a force, that when you have it for someone, something, some situation, it takes time for that hope in that thing to change.

perhaps, hope is so powerful, that it never really goes away. maybe when you have hope in what was good at one time, its a hope in what is good at all times.

maybe we need to learn to hope transfer. i hope i dont lose my inability to stop hoping.

life life and more life

2007-02-18T16:42:00.000-08:00

the heart is the core of who we are... our understanding, intellect, emotion, desire, will. unguarded and exposed, things tear away at it and everything is affected. and the heart numb, it almost stops living. it doesnt even know what to feel or think, or be. its just pumping and keeping you half conscious.

i am seeing my heart bruised and bleeding, me holding my skin together to keep it all inside- the bleeding- feeling like maybe i did this, i deserve this, not sure what happened. and the blood is drying and somehow in the shock of it, i got a needle and stitched myself up- the black thread stark on flesh. and in waking, i am wiping away the blood ... seeing my skin fresh again.

yes, there is an awakening. dead, numb -- for months. and now, awake. but not a sudden jolt, not an anxious awareness of a different state... its a slow waking, like on a good morning, when you have rested and are ready to get up and have a full day... ready to face it.

in that awakening, the heart, to do what it does best (which is to love), must forgive. at times, forgiveness feels impossible, impossible. but forgiveness and love, in the face of the reality of sin, are "inextricably bound together. God is continually, literally, second-by-second covering our sin under his sons blood and forgiving us our sins. God cannot love us unless He forgives us and cannot forgive us without a committment to love us. Love and forgiveness are equally bound together in all human relationships." (dan allender)

and so, the heart must forgive. not simply feel like forgiving, but must chose to forgive.

"Forgiveness is a not a feeling. Neither is it simply trying to forget the bad things done to us. it is an act of the will and heart. It is giving a person something they have not earned the right to have-- pardon. Forgiveness acknowledges that we have been wronged but it goes beyond that and extends mercy." (floyd mcclung)

In isaiah 53, we are given a prophecy about jesus and reminded of the bloody, violent sacrifice made that we might be forgiven. the images we see and feel are both the description of that violent sacrifice and the beautiful truth that forgiveness offers -- to be whole and to live.

"But the fact is, it was our pains he carried— our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us. We thought he brought it on himself, that God was punishing him for his own failures. But it was our sins that did that to him, that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole. Through his bruises we get healed."

"Still, it's what God had in mind all along, to crush him with pain.The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin so that he'd see life come from it—life, life, and more life. And God's plan will deeply prosper through him."

this heart can no longer hide because it is numb. its feeling again, finally. and so it choses forgiveness. how can it not?

"Be gentle with one another, sensitive. Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ forgave you."eph 4:32

the novelty of youth --- and --- loneliness

2007-02-07T17:29:00.000-08:00

i am at the national pastors convention this week in san diego. its quite good for me to be out of normal life for awhile. i do feel like one of the youngest people here, though, and its been ego boosting in a probably prideful and self-serving way. i feel like the token representative of youth here. like these older pastoral types (mostly white guys from middle america) are here and they are valid in their experience and insight, but i, yes i, hold the elusive understanding of what it is to be young (young!), hip (yes, hip!- well sort of), in tune with culture (the young hip culture!) and part of an emerging church (a young hip culturally saavy emerging church!). so i walk around feeling special and different and noticed. and i like it. in fact, i like it a little too much, i think, because i can tell my pride is making me think i am better than everyone. and then, as i sat chatting with dan and one of his friends and dan says he "stays young" by spending time with me and getting my insights, the reality struck me: my youth is simply a novelty.

and it will only last me so long.

so what is more substantial in me that i have to offer to others, even now, in my youth? because my youth is not my substance and it will not sustain.

also, loneliness. i came down here alone and spent the last day and half navigating around alone, with bits of hang out time with other people, but mostly alone. i enjoyed the novelty (such a good word) of the alone-ness, but a few hours ago, it began to feel heavy. i just like having people around who know me and can relate to me and get me. its good for me to feel this loneliness, as it helps me understand how it feels and how people in my life and church community might feel when they are new, alone, lonely, out of place. its vaccuous feeling. and real- palpable loneliness.

innocence

2007-02-05T00:33:00.000-08:00

dan spoke tonight about how we need to be constantly recognizing our identity as justified and righteous in gods sight... and how living the identity as one who is set free from sin and seen as holy and pure by god should inspire and encourage and compell us to live lives striving for purity and holiness. though we are sinners and fall short, if we constantly live in that identity, we can never break out of our cycle of sin-- and can sometimes even use our idea that we are "just sinners" to justfiy us staying in sin and subtly abusing God's grace and forgiveness. it was an important reminder for us all, as we humans are in the constant state of understanding our need for this, then failing... thinking we have it right and then falling flat on our face to find we need to be lifted back up again.

dan quotes cs lewis at the end of his message

"We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased"

as part of the gathering, the creative arts team had set up a prayer path, with small pretty stones covered in mud. the prayer path was to kneel down at the "mudpie" and put your hands in it, recognizing that as we continue to sin and not strive for holiness, we are settling for mud. the second part of the path was to take one of these small stones out of the mud, wash it in a basin of water and wipe it clean, recongizing that we can chose to not play in the mud and see the true beauty of purity in our lives.

as i approached the prayer station, one of the kids in our community stood by the station observing people go through the path, telling them "you can keep those if you want, you know." as i kneeled down next to him, i felt like i should feel this heavy weight on me, that i should bear the guilt of sins i have committed knowing full well that i was taking advantage of Gods grace. but instead there was this bright boy, his innocence radiating, reminding me that this small stone, representing the innocence and purity and holiness i have in Gods sight, can indeed be kept by me. i invited him to pick a stone out with me and we both picked them out together, put them in the water, feeling the mud sticky, then washed away in one simple act. then wiped clean in the towel.

i looked at it in the light, held it up. "look," i told him, "hold it up to the light!" and he did and it was a moment, both of us holding up our stones, letting the light shine through.

i'm sick

2007-01-24T20:40:00.000-08:00

yes, as you have heard in little bits over the last few posts, i am indeed, sick. what i realized today is that its not like i have this really bad illness that won't go away. what i actually have is a compromised immune system that is allowing all sorts of bugs and bacteria and virus' into my body, and bit by bit, those stupid things are making me sick with a whole plethora of different sicknesses- back to back and without much break in between. my body probably doesn't even know what it feels like to be healthy, its felt so bad for so long.

so, finally, i took a few days off this week. this is the end of day three. i usually go stircrazy from being alone for so long, but its actually been quite enjoyable being alone and not really talking very much. i have liked it. but i am still going stir crazy and i am only going stir crazy because i have so much to do at work that i am near panic that i wont get it done in time. one of those things i have to do is prepare to speak again on sunday. so what do i chose to do with my time? blog.

but this is good, its part of the process. you see, because i am processing what i am thinking and learning as i study to speak. i am speaking on how we can't change without each other, the role our community has in our transformation. and i have been reading in "how people grow" by cloud and townsend all about the role of the Body in an individuals journey toward change. and though sometimes it feels like the body metaphor is overused and sort of like, yeah yeah, the church is the Body of Christ, blah blah-- right now, its just so real to me, so just, alive (the Body, its alive! ALIVE!)

the authors of this book point out the amazing reality of how the physical body functions--

"for this is what the physical body does when one cell suffers. it sends healing to the injured part of the body. if you have a wounded arm, for example, the body sends antibodies, healing agents, fresh oxygenated blood, white cells, information, anti-inflammatory agents, and so on to that limb. And they do their healing work."

-- and then go on to compare that to how the Body of Christ is to work-- that some bring grace and love as anti-inflammatory agents.... others mourn together and their tears flush out sickness.... teachers offer truth to a wound and help build a strong cellular structure.... when it all works together, infections are healed.

as i study this, i remember that i read "the gift of pain" last year and how its a longer, deeper look into the paralells between the physical body and the spiritual one- and is especially specific on the role pain plays both in the growth of our body and our soul.

so in thinking of our brokeness, as individuals and as a Body--of our sickness both physically and spiritually-- of how we are healed and how sometimes we remain sick, i wonder what the metaphor i am living in means?

"He has lost connection with the Head, from whom the whole body, supported and held together by its ligaments and sinews, grows as God causes it to grow" (Col 2:19)

"From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work" (Eph 4:16)

i am still breathing garlic

2007-01-15T22:20:00.000-08:00

i was eating dinner at a ministry meeting with some friends this evening and had some garlic bread. it was yummy and perfect in the context of a lasagna and salad dinner. i enjoyed it (though i was a bit paranoid about my breath, as i often am). then, just as dinner was ending, our lovely hosts plopped down a big bowl of m&m's in front of us. i tried to resist, but couldn't. i got a handful and happily began munching away. the unfortunate part of that was i hadnt waited long enough after the garlic to eat these tasty treats, so i got a mouthful of garlicky chocolate. being wise and having an extensive knowledge of the taste palette, i figured if i ate more chocolate, eventually the garlic taste would wear off. but no.

in about 15 minutes, as we talked and checked in and readied to pray for each other, we put the m&m's on the coffeetable and i decided to try and have some more- cause i want the chocolate taste, not the garlic taste, in my mouth as we talked to God. but no, the garlic was still there. fine.

after prayer, pre-discussion time, we were offered some more sugary goodness. cookies and strawberries. so i had a chocolate chip cookie, thinking it would be just fine. well more than fine. i had decided it was high time for my mouth to have a new sensation, experience something different and yummy and non-garlicky. while the garlic had faded, the cookie somehow just did not taste as good as i expected. so i had some more cookie. more has to be the answer, right?

no.

so i then had a strawberry. though sweet, it was fresh, refreshing, really. it gave me a good feeling.

earlier today, in what felt like an endless series of meetings, i had grabbed a big container of hershey kisses and began devouring them. my bloodsugar gets low in the afternoon and i need these to help keep me awake, you see. its really more about practicality than it is about taste. well, at first it is about practicality, then it becomes a nice treat. but after the first 3, its hard to stop. i am probably just hungry and need some actual food, but somehow reason that the kisses will be enough. so i keep eating them and eating them. at some point, i cant even taste the sweetness anymore. i just want them to fill me up.

and they don't.

the worst part is that i have been sick for almost 2 months with this stupid flu/cold/cough thing and last week, thought i had almost fought it off. then a sore throat returned this week. so i have really needed to be more disciplined about what i eat and how i take care of myself. avoiding sugar would be smart. but i can't seem to stop eating it. and once i get going on it, i just can't get enough. not that sugar is bad all the time, but this just isnt the time.

and it struck me, as i breathed my garlic breath over my sore throat on the drive home and felt my stomach turn from too much sugar:

there is thing i have with trying to fix things with the wrong solutions... even when i know what the right solution would be.

and there is this thing i have with wanting more of things i know i shouldnt have, in a timeframe that is usually sooner than what is best.

what a day to begin breathing

2007-01-13T01:09:00.000-08:00

its loud upstairs

sounds i cant see, noise i cant know
just persistent and always
i drive home the same ways, see lights in a row

and

stop

and

go

songs unfamiliar, their words bleed inside, saying things that are right
i want you to write my soul, you say it so much better than i could

"bring on the evening as i cry, bring on the evidence of my life"

these days are so sweet, empty from the way that sorrow would suffocate

but there is that wondering, and waiting,

and... and.... and...

then, i find the decision to just be here, be here, be here

and i want to stay

addiction

2007-01-06T01:04:00.000-08:00

i felt compelled to say that at this late hour, i am not tired. moreover, i am not ready to sleep. even more... i am addicted to "alias." i cannot stop watching it, no matter how hard i try, i just can't. i am addicted to the crazy fight scenes where sydney kills the bad guy, gets what she needs and beats all the odds. i am addicted to the storyline, which can't seem to get more complex or intriguing, but always does. i am addicted to the way vaughn pines after sydney, he gets this look in his eye and its just like, oh.

fearfully and wonderfully made

2007-01-01T22:00:00.000-08:00

every year, my family gets massages as part of our christmas gift. it sounds kind of weird, yeah, but its one of the few things that will get my punk brothers to actually show up and hang out with the rest of the family :) so this is something nice to look forward to each year, because who doesnt like a massage?

this year, as we sat waiting to get taken to our rooms for the massages, i told my sis and bro that i really hoped i didnt get a guy cause that would definitely be kind of awkward. i didnt want to have to feel awkward when a massage is supposed to be relaxing. and dont you know it, when my masseuse came, he was, in fact, a guy. i smiled and laughed to myself... awesome.

now, being an extrovert and the way i am, i get anxious in silence, especially with people i dont know. i have a tough time not talking to the person giving me a massage when i get one (see july 05 blog). this year, i was just wanting peace- i was not really looking forward to having to make small talk with a stranger for an hour, in a dark room, with airy new age music going on in the background (not that i think new age music is wrong, i just dont personally prefer it). so i wasnt stoked on the added weirdness of having a guy masseuse. hmmm, how is this going to go?

when my masseuse (jason) took me to the room, i was pleasantly surprised to find it a well lit and spacious room. it smelled really inviting and the music was soft, eclectic world music, with a sort of indian flavor to it. laying on my back with a blanket over me, jason put his hands out over me, not touching me at all... he then slowly moved them down and pressed his hands into the small of my back and i heard him sort of whispering-- i am not sure if he was praying or what, but it definitely felt like he took a moment to think through what he was doing, to sort of honor the experience.

as my massage began, i was surprised to feel overcome with peace- a sense that i could talk if i wanted or i could just be quiet. i felt very comfortable, very at ease. jason told me a bit about different types of massage and different theories about muscle work, which was good-- keep it professional, help assure he wasnt creepy. he also began telling me about how massage therapists travel quite a bit and dont usually stay in one place too long... many are very "spiritual" he said, and like to visit Africa, India and experience those cultures and religions. this really struck me, because as jason worked very carefully on my different muscles, i could tell he was treating them each very delicately and had a very deep respect for each part of the body, for the intricate way the body is made up. this got me to thinking about the body and the fact that God has crafted each of us so very particularly and uniquely. and i started to imagine how it must have been for God when he was creating the body... carefully looking over each part, putting each piece together, smiling at the beauty he was creating. and i imagined how he must have marveled when it was all done- thinking "this is good."

perhaps, i wondered, as jason began to work out the crazy knots on my upper back, the reason many massage therapists are so spritiual is that they get to deal with the body all the time... and they arent necessarily looking at it clinically or intellectually, really, but as this intricate beautiful masterpiece- each part connected to the other, the muscles all tied together with the rest of the systems of the body... and how touching them in a certain way and helping to relieve the stress of the everyday (jason said that the smallest things we do can affect our muscles-- how we type, how we answer the phone, how we use a mouse) can make them function the way they were originally meant to work.

i was surprised during the massage at how much my body reacted to being touched in this "therapeutic" way by someone who knew so much about muscles and how to help them relax. as my body eased and was able to release all the tension, stress, and tightness it held, i began to feel other things leave me - confusion, sadness, worry... the body tied up so closely with all my feelings. how does that work? our bodies, minds, hearts, souls are all tangled and touching- we can't separate them and when one hurts, all the others seem to follow suit.

we are fearfully and wonderfully made

children of men

2006-12-26T21:20:00.000-08:00

on christmas night, i went to see "children of men" with a bunch of boys (sorry, i mean "men" :) ) in san jose. it was the first time in i cant remember how long that i spent time with friends instead of family on christmas night. being a product of a two family system, usually i have two christmas', but my mom is in ohio this year, so we only had one. so i got the chance to join some of the san jose men for what seemed to be a yearly tradition they have of seeing a movie on christmas night. we ventured to the ultra hip CineArts theatre on santana row and sat in a sold out audience to take in what has to be one of my favorite movies of the year.

not many people have heard of this film, which is a shame, because its elegant and jarring, epic and subtle, and all those other great reviewer words that will get attached to it eventually. the premise is that in 2027, the world has crumbled into chaos because humans have become infertile - the youngest person on earth, at 18, has just died, causing worldwide mourning. the last "civil" country is the UK and they have become a police state, deporting or detaining all illegal immigrants into refugee camps and closely monitoring the population through survelliance cameras and and an oppressive military presence. we dont know why humans have become infertile, nor the details of what the rest of the world even looks like or how exactly it has deteriorated. mostly what we know is that things are not good- so not good that they cage people at train terminals, force fertility tests and sell home-suicide kits like claritin.

the main character, theo (clive owen, who i have decided is an incredibly striking and engaging actor, and well, pretty darn hot) is a depressed government worker sullenly drinking himself to death to dull the reality of what the world has become. but he must awaken himself from the numb when his ex-wife, julian, enlists him to help transport an illegal immigrant to the coast. julian and theo used to be activists when they were together, but theo seems to have defected and detached from everything he used to be when their son was killed in the flu pandemic that struck just before the infertility. it seems that in getting theo to help her, julian is able to uncover the part of theo that used to be passionate about something-- and that part slowly becomes inflamed once julian is murdered and his mission to bring the immigrant to the coast becomes illuminated- we find out that this immigrant is in fact pregnant with the first baby to be conceived in almost 20 years.

the movie becomes their mission to get this pregnant girl to saftey. and slowly, in all the madness and in all the violence and all the chaos, this one life becomes the single hope for the rest of the world.

yes, yes, the parallels to christmas/mary/jesus are obvious once you start looking for them - but the brilliance of this film is that they dont hit you over the head with it at all. once the concept is fully realized, you are so moved by the subtly in which its been presented and by the freshness of seeing it in a new context, that you cant help but be changed.

this movie does something to you-- the setting and imagery is so familiar and the imminent threat of a world becoming this chaotic is so believable-- that the movie gives this insane sense of urgency. urgency that we need to live as we were created to live--well, more specifically to seek out the thing that created us to live and to pursue it with everything we have, at any cost.

despite the urgency i feel, i am still left feeling somewhat inadequate in my current state. does everyone wonder if they are doing enough?

see that movie.

cinque terra.... epic aloneness

2006-12-22T00:13:00.000-08:00

this is one of the most gorgeous places on the face of the planet. i spent a day and night here alone, sort of. it was glorious.

MONTEROSSO

this was the view from a rock i sat on for about an hour and journaled from. i spent a lot of time that day writing and thinking and listening and observing. i like to watch people, scenes unfold. i have trouble, though, letting my own life unfold. cinque terra taught me a bit about slowing.

this is the other view from the journaling rock. i like when landscapes are half covered in shade. its calming for some reason. there were a lot of boats sort of lazing about in this tiny bay. no one was ever rushing.

this is the biggest beach in montessoro... you had to pay 15 euro to lay on one of these lounge chairs. being the bargain hunter i am, i took a towel from my hotel room that barely stretched past my knees and went to one of the "free" tiny beaches on the other side of this beach. lots of men in speedos, lots of women in barely anything. a truly european experience.

these are my legs and feet. i spent a lot of time being worried about my legs being too white compared to all the crazy beautiful italians. this day, i was ok with them.

this is a wonderful couple from america who i shared a room with. we each seperately all thinking we would pop into monterosso that day without a room booking and then met at this random "b and b" which turned out to be some guys random apartment, which ended up being a dead end in trying to find lodging. after a dozen calls trying to find any available rooms in the tiny city, we realized getting a triple was our only solution. though on their honeymoon, the couple were happy to let me crash with them. we had a great discussion over dinner that night and i ended up giving them my copy of "velvet elvis" after a cool discussion we all had about faith.

the streets of monterosso by night.

the bay of monterosso by night.

VERNAZZA

after my day alone/night with the honeymooners, marissa and mikey met me at the train station. they missed the first train into town, which led me to believe they would never make it and i would be stranded there in that tiny town and lose them for the rest of the trip. luckily, one hour later, they made it :) we spent the day in the sun (mikey hiding in the shade of other peoples umbrella's) then trekked from monterosso to vernazza in the rain.

vernazza is tiny, picturesque and addicting. we never wanted to leave it.

view from the wharf where we sat, eating fruit from the market, wishing we could spend always here.

late nights and the shopping vortex

2006-12-20T02:00:00.000-08:00

its 2am. i have been sick for 2 weeks and in a vicious cycle of sleeping for 12 hours, going to work late, getting a minimal amount of work done, going home exhausted, watching "alias" (which is like crack cocaine for the tv-minded, i swear, i watched 3 episodes tonight and i cant seem to get enough), hacking up sweet loogies all over the place (the streets of santa cruz beware!), staying up late cause im not tired and then doing it all again. plus its christmas time and i am trying to be creative and thoughtful with gifts, but lose motivation when i realize i have 5 days to get anything done and no energy in which to do them. its also freeeeeezing, frickin freezing out... coldest its been in 30 years.

being after 2am and wide awake, i now find myself up with all sorts of energy and creativity, but no motivation in which to channel it. what happens to us late at night that makes everything so alive?? once you hit a threshold of lateness, you are sort of in a zone- you just sort of get sucked in to whatever will hold your attention and though you know, you KNOW you need to sleep cause tomorrow will suck if you don't, nothing in the world seems less appealing than going to sleep. but what to do, what to do?

tonight, i chose to blog, though i dont even really have a point to this blog. usually i do. or try to at least. this one is sort of stream of consciousness. though i know that i could write this in my journal or in word and save it as "12.20.06 random late night thoughts"... to blog feels better. maybe for me, its that connection to the outside world, the thought that i am putting my very own thoughts out onto this crazy invisible connection shared by millions around the world and perhaps because its put out there, it will matter.

earlier tonight, i spent about 2 hours in target with my sister and roommate. being the geniuses we are, we drove out to target in holiday traffic (making a 15 min trip take an hour). at one point, after 30 min in traffic, i made my roommate get out of the car at a red light to grab my bag with my phone in it from the trunk. she jumped out, grabbed the bag and the minute she got back in swore and realized she had the wrong bag. so i jumped out, grabbed the other bag and just as i got back in the light turned green and i swore, we laughed, and i started the car as fast as i could.

before target, we went to get food at albertsons next to target, wasting a solid 15 min waiting for our deli clerk to make one stinking veggie sandwich. we all stood there in disbelief as she made the sandwich, chopping each ingredient, placing it all together... somehow, it seemed like time stood still, like there was no time anymore, just us, staring at the deli counter, analyzing the various lunch items, wondering if we would ever get out of there.

we then entered the shopping vortex of target. why i love target is a many faceted explanation-- an explanation of which i will tell you about if you ever go to target with me. as i try on cute sweaters in the dressing room, i will tell you i love target cause of how soft the fabric of the sweater is and its only 2o bucks. while i roam through the aisle dedicated to home fragrances and airsprays, i will tell you i love target because of its wide selection of options for home fragrance. as i peruse the bedding section, i will tell you i love target for its clean white jersey knit sheet set that is also only 20 bucks. when i find a sweet smelling candle with a funky design on the outside, i will tell you i love target for its up-to-the-minute design sensibility and reasonable pricing. as my sister and i spend 20 min looking at make-up, giggling like maniacs and talking to each other in silly voices, me with a shopping cart loaded to the brim trying to find the right eyeliner, my sister wearing the pink robe she plans on buying and telling me why i should buy blue eyeliner, i will tell you i love target because of its vast variety of products which allow funny moments between sisters to occur that are completely unplanned and totally necessary.

much earlier today, the staff went out to a surprise lunch together where we were treated to kianti's and everyone on staff got a pair of converse (my fav shoes ever). we all ate yummy pasta and shared our favorite christmas memories and traditions. at one point, i texted a friend who lived nearby and told him to bring a camera so we could remember this fun event, jokingly telling him not to ask any questions. by accident, i texted his son instead and though confused, his son left work, came all the way down to the restaraunt and was ready for whatever we needed. he had the sweetest most confused look on his face and i just loved him for it.

though i dont buy the myth/expectation that the christmas/holidays are supposed to hold all sorts of heartwarming memories, little moments like these make me want to reconsider. they arent your classic holiday memories, but they are funny everyday moments that you just treasure.

crap, it seems like i can make some sense of my writing, even this late at night.

unseen world

2006-12-15T01:05:00.000-08:00

i drove home again late tonight. i get frustrated sometimes because i feel like driving home is so monotonous... the same scenery, the same lights, same everything. makes me restless.

tonight, the fog and rain created these insane clouds in the distance behind the normal mountains that surround where i live. mixed with the low-lying fog, it felt like another place. the mountains higher and more dramatic, dark....the fog placed low, creating new foreground... unknown. it felt like another world.

i forget there is so much more going on than i can see.

florence, italy

2006-12-12T00:11:00.001-08:00

its time i told you what happened... that month in august when i got to taste the world again. these pictures have sat categorized in folders on my computer and on my flickr. its time they told some stories to you.

we began in switzerland (after a stop in london), but those arent uploaded, so you will have to go out of order....

FLORENCE- first stop in italy

we discovered this empty place in the center of town somewhere. looking down, we attempted artsyness. we were pretty proud of ourselves.

some more artsyness. they were both yelling at me for trying too hard.

this church, in the center of florence, was so big, so overwhelming, we could not seem to fit it into the frame of one shot. it was extremely intricate, the colors so unusual for a church. no one seemed to spend much time inside of it. the shadow it cast around it was refuge from the heat and its where most people in proximity to the church spent their time... in its shadow.

this is a close shot of some of the detail work on the church. its so strange, because you can't get very close to actually see much of the detail. the intense intricacy and craftmanship is evident from top to bottom of this massive structure... but you can't see it past a certain point.

this restaraunt was recommended by rick steve's, who marissa grew to hate as we went on, as we consulted him for EVERYTHING we did. he did suggest good gelato, which made us all happy. this night, in this restaraunt, me and mikey (the boy in the pic and my lovely step brother) got into an intense convo about religion. it was one of the most challenging conversations i had had in some time about my faith and it was good for me. i miss those challenges. notice the guy making the face in the background? more americans.

this pic brings back fond memories. there was a giant square in one part of town next to the uffizi gallery, which holds crazy famous art work, that has tons of restaraunts and people milling around. we wandered to this square one night after dinner and found them shooting a film or something. the main actor was really full of himself, smoking cigarettes and seeming pleased to have a crowd staring at him. he had friends in the crowd and the friends kept staring at marissa, the pretty dark haired girl in all my pics. we must have spent 70% of our time noticing guys staring at her.

we spent one evening at these bridges at the edge of the town center. i did not tweak this photo, it really is this beautiful.

i got really into taking pictures of feet on this part of the trip. perhaps the realization that we would be spending quite a lot of time on them for a better part of a month.

this was a sculpture at the edge of one of the bridges. i liked her feet.

here is her silhouette.

the vulnerability of a leader

2006-12-02T10:46:00.000-08:00

i have been having lots of conversation about leadership in the last few days-what are the basic fundamentals (is that too scary a word to use?) that make up a good leader? is it possible to actually sum up in a list what these basics are? as i have served in a variety of leadership settings- a local church, high school asb, college housing and student activities- i have met so many different types of leaders and seen so many different strengths that make them good. what i think makes up the best leaders, though, is the ones who are able to admit, embrace and share their weaknesses.

weakness #1:

maybe its just me as a leader, but being in a position to meet and talk with a lot of people and to even be able to learn about where they are in life (which inevitably leads to learning about where they hurt and what needs fixing), i have to battle against what some have coined "the messiah complex"... which i have found to be a common ailment among many leaders. maybe its not just leaders who suffer with it, but it seems it is definitely something they are prone to. the messiah complex (or the MC, not to be confused with the OC) leads one to believe that they can be the ever important factor that leads to anothers life being made whole again. commonly, the one who suffers from the MC does not believe they are in fact Jesus, but somehow, if they say all the right words, or act the right way, give the right resources, or just add that "right" element into the life of the one suffering, then, THEN that person will be healed, be whole again. Some have actually termed this behavior as being "codependent", but thats the pop psychology understanding of codependence. when you look at the actual psychological definition of codependeny, its not trying to fix people- it has to do with enabling their addictive behaviors. i digress.

to be candid, i am so guilty of having the messiah complex, its embarrasing to admit. its a dangerous thing, this complex, because when you allow it to seep in, you can actually convince yourself that you hold the key to fixing people and their situations. and the more people you know, the more people you talk to, the more sorrow you encounter and the more pain you come in contact with, you quickly become overwhelmed and despondent-- because the reality is, you yourself can't fix any of it, you, the mighty leader, cannot even come close. and so you want to give up.

i find myself often coming to the point of wanting to give up because of this complex and then i have to have wise people remind me that leadership is not to be done on my own strength, that i am not, in fact, Jesus. this seems too obvious, right? how can a normal human being assume the power of the one through whom all things were made? i think, though, that the delusion is a subtle one. as i said, no one with the MC actually thinks they are Jesus, just like no one who is prideful actually thinks they are God (this is assuming that when we are prideful, we are saying we want to be in charge of our lives, not God). perhaps the one who suffers with the MC takes those encouragements for us as believers to "be Jesus" to the world around us to an extreme, but with the best intentions.

6 weeks or so ago, i was going through an incredibly emotional day, being challenged and stripped of my pride, facing hard realities and feeling the weight of some of my own issues of brokeness. that same night, i had to go lead a group of leaders. though broken and sapped of my own strength, i was reminded that perhaps this was the best state in which to lead. there were no pretentions in me, there was no room for me to assume the place of "messiah" because i could barely keep my own little life together. upon arriving at the meeting, i found myself able to just listen, not to offer all my own solutions. i just let people talk, i tried to remain a part of things, not the answer to things. as we began "check in," i shared where i was and came clean about my vulnerable state. as we went around, the night evolved into an incredible time of our leaders sharing their own struggles, not simply the surface struggles, but real issues we would not have shared with just anyone. it was only the 2nd or 3rd time we had met, but the levels of intimacy we encountered that night have allowed a healthy beginning to our ministry- one that this MC-prone leader could have never dreamed up.

their were no "answers" to the issues we all laid on the table that night... there was just sense of relief and comfort in the simple act of saying those things out loud, with receiving ears hearing, and then release in all of us praying to the real Messiah and offering up our unknowns to him. i did not need to be the "strong one" who offered the right words. i did not need to have the right answers to the questions. i did not even need to say very much at all, save to be honest about my own weakness.

i know its kind of obvious and perhaps lame...

2006-11-29T15:56:00.000-08:00

...but there is something comforting about the blog community. i just checked my comments from my last post and then started clicking on the links of the people who commented and found out that i am listed under some of your "blog friend" lists... and it made me feel special. its like, no matter where i go or what i am doing, i have this little set of friends who read my blog and who list me as part of their blog world. i think i am somewhat of a narcissistic blogger, cause i really only blog to emote and then dont actively participate in other peoples blogs. how selfish. so i am going to attempt to enter the blog world and be an active member.

i will also be attempting to write a lot more on this thing, as its good for me. i have been thinking a lot about writing and not just that, but am actually feeling pressured/encouraged to write... people encouraging me to write, people who want to write with me, people who want me to see how writing fits into my future. its all very flattering, but also unnerving. what is it i am to write on?

alone... on purpose

2006-11-26T22:57:00.000-08:00

i did it.

i spent the last 36 hours by myself. for your introverts, you are not impressed. for you extro's... be proud of me, cause i finally did it. i have been wanting a "personal" weekend for so long... the only other time i have done it was in italy this past summer, which was of course incredible, but also, i mean it was italy... you can do anything there.

no, this time, it was different. a bigger challenge (especially in the winter weather and in the midst of regular life), taking time away to be alone, to think, to be with my thoughts, was a feat i didnt know i could accomplish-- but i did do it and i am glad.

i feel more exhausted than i have in a LONG time and thats saying a lot, since i have recently been pretty tired in the new job/new relationship/general wear and tear of life. but this is the best kind of exhausted.

some of the observations of a day and a half alone:

my thoughts are consuming, my brain on hyperdrive so much of the time, that its like this dog gnawing a bone where the meat and flavor is all gone, but it still gnaws. time alone is exhausting, cause no one is there to stop you from gnawing.

time alone does not equal instant spiritual enlightenment, per say.... it does give you nice insights into things, good observations, time to let thoughts unfold. but its way more normal and mundane than i expected, which is a relief. i didnt know if i was capable of sustaining instant spiritual enlightment.

i LOVE being in new places, exploring new towns and new streets. its enlivening to me, i dont know if i can explain it. but i do love it so much and i got to do it a lot this weekend. walking around downtown palo alto, i felt very carrie in sex and the city. like any conversation could become a new way to see something, like possibility was everywhere, like i was capable and able and (gasp!) very comfortable on my own. there's kristin, alone, eating a yummy sandwich at pluto's. ah, there she is again, walking down the street in the rain, soaking in the atmosphere, the wind, the wet converse, the people, leaves fall, laughter. here we find her browsing borders, reading interesting things by intellectual and pop culuturally saavy people. ah, look at her sipping tea, reading her book, laughing, rubbing cold socks on cold feet, wishing for a heater. (ah, is self observation and narration narcissistic or cute?)

driving all these new places, i got lost a lot... and it made me laugh. God, in his little way, was teaching me the whole-God is in control, knows the directions, is in charge, its ok to be lost and find your way again-thing.

going to dinner alone... not as terrifying as you would think. its, well, enjoyable. you pick up on things from people, situations, much more easily. you soak things up. you worry less about silence. people looked at me with sympathy, but i just smiled, assured in eating my pasta and bread and coke on my own.

going to a movie alone... also not so bad. great, even. especially when the movie makes you think and ponder writing, life, meaning, death, fate, control. and you leave feeling empowered and stronger simply because you did something normal, totally alone.

accepting the laziness

2006-11-24T17:07:00.000-08:00

i am a doer. i try to fix things. i try to remain active. i try to be in constant motion. stillness feels impossible.

the last couple days, with the excuse of thanksgiving, have been incredibly lazy. to have been so motionless feels strange, but sort of intoxicating, too. not in the intoxicating where you love it and want more and are lost inside yourself in a good way. but intoxicating, like, i cant seem to snap out of it. like, i will talk myself into doing things, but what i really feel like is just laying on the couch and watching "sex and the city" (tbs edited, of course).

what i am learning more about is planned stillness. i think if i accept that i will have a still, slow day... then i am ok. but if i have even the slightest expectation of activity, or interaction or even productivity, and then i dont do anything, i hate myself for being so lazy. which is silly, everyone needs lazy times. but i think in this place i have always been, in this world with so many friends and people to distract and things to do, in the familiarity of all of it... i just expect so much.

i am also realizing that those lazy times, good or bad, feel like escape. complication, overthinking, stress, unknown, all of it... they make me want to just escape.... to find something to focus my mind on which is not so overwhelming. so i find little things, fixed periods of time, where i can just not think.

i talked with some girls the other night about alcoholism and what an escape addiction is. how over-indulging in drinking, drugs, sex, food, work-- can become escapes when we cant cope with trauma or even just cope with life. i think as i enter into this real adult world, and as i grow and experience adult pain and adult decisions (because whether i like it or not, i am an adult), i am beginning to understand so much more about the escape plans. like, i could rationalize them before, i understood logically why they were there and why people planned them and took them... but the motivation, the raw emotion of it, the clawing desperation to be away from whatever is causing the need for escape... i am just getting to touch on. feeling the corners of it. peer over the edge.

whats the balance between laziness and escapism? to be sure, no one can remain "on" all the time. but i dont want to get lost in the escape either... as always, the need to understand balance remains. but i done dwelling on that for now, carrie bradshaw calls....

adventure

2006-11-22T16:36:00.000-08:00

in every epic adventure movie or story, you always have these elements that pop up to signify the epicness of whats going on. i place myself as protagonist, i imagine my life a movie.

i see...

the foreshadowing comments made by characters during the "normal life" sequence in the beginning... the little things that later turn out to mean so much.

the mysterious mentor/gandalf-type person, who knows way more than you and who has an idea of where you might be headed, but wont tell you. instead, they just ask questions that make you think and probe you so that you will realize things about yourself that you were afraid to uncover on your own.

the random wanderer you run into on the road who is maybe heading the same direction, who has experienced the same things, who has some of the same ways about them, but has perhaps also been a little further down the road and can encourage you, challenge you, tempt you to open your eyes and dream.

friends who come around, similarly unaware of a bigger story, laughing, playing, being by your side... potentially joining you for the journey ahead, maybe getting ready to say goodbye?

moments of doubt, indecision, fear... paralyzing unknown.

a narrator only the audience can hear, a soundtrack that plays and moves you.

a great love.

the great love.

.... i can't ignore the epic overtones anymore.

god's heart to be loved

2006-11-12T01:29:00.000-08:00

i am discovering something i already knew. God longs to be loved by me. i think i spend, most people spend, so much time wanting to be loved. its what we are geared toward (especially many women)-- the pursuit of a love that would last us a lifetime. for all my early feminist inclinations and all my pop psychological understanding of relationships and all my "lessons learned" in the dating experience, i still long for a love, that idyllic love, who would stand by my side, would fight for me, would long for me, would be with me through everything, would love me in a way that would keep me going.

but if its true, if God longs to be loved by me in the way i long to be loved by whoever i end up with, how much deeper are his longings for me than mine are for an earthly love? how much longer, how much wider, how much deeper? i cant seem to get my head around this-- God, in whom all things were created and in whom all things hold together -- wants ME to love HIM? why? does he need us the way we sometimes seem to need others? is his heart tugged at when we walk away, ignore, dismiss, set him aside? i guess so, if our faith is based on relationship-- that supernatural, mysterious "relationship" with him. if his people, when faithful, are his loving bride, then when unfaithful, are harlots-- then he must love us with some unfathomable love, bigger than any scorned lover or any happy husband here in this life.

and i dont understand that.

i think that God is allowing a connection between what my head had known, what my heart has been hinting at and what my soul longs to truly understand and experience.

slow down

2006-11-07T11:14:00.000-08:00

for two days in a row, i was stuck in worse than normal traffic on the highway. today, as I sat there barely moving at all, i started noticing how different the highway looks when you are going slow on it. this part of the highway i was on literally never has traffic and usually moves so quickly that i never even notice what it looks like. i began to wonder if its like the highway itself is not ever even supposed to be seen at such slow speeds. you can see all the places where cars have wrecked into the sides, the marks ugly and scarring. and you notice the broken glass, too, the places where things have come completely apart. but you also see the other people around you better, notice the person in the red suv ahead put their hand on the door and then stretch it out a bit, absent-minded, bored. the other cars moving opposite you are seen more fully. the road signs and directions clearer.

a forced slow down.

intersections

2006-11-06T15:31:00.000-08:00

i have been learning of late about repeating.

facing so many of the same mistakes i have made before, i am seeing repeating. all these same circumstances and fears haunt me because of their cursed familiarity. i was wisely reminded that we all will repeat our mistakes and that our set of "issues" does not change from 25 to 55. not to say healing and restoration is impossible. not to say we dont learn to deal with the issues we have and that we dont have times where we feel we have overcome them.

but our issues will always be the same. we are going to keep coming to these same intersections that look so familiar, wondering why we keep coming back to them. havent i learned? havent i worked through this? why do i keep coming back here? the familiarity becomes sickening, inbearable.

but just because the intersection is the same, doesnt mean that we arent learning or changing. maybe its the same intersection, but maybe, this time, the semi-truck isnt going to run us over. maybe, this time, we will wait at the red light. maybe, this time, we will slow at the yellow. maybe this time, we will get to go right through on green. maybe, this time, we will not freak out that we have come to the same intersection once again.

maybe, this time.

survival

2006-10-02T12:03:00.000-07:00

i was driving to work today, listening to death cab's piano intro to "what sarah said" (which lends itself to lots of introspective thinking) and as i pulled in to stop at the light, i watched a homeless man walking along the side of the road towards the new shelter on river st. he threw up his arms as if startled and looked around. then he leaned his head back just so slightly and sighed. as i lost sight of his front, i focussed only his mismatched clothes and his posture leaning forward, going towards a nothing he wished was something.

when i was really young, i used to be deathly afraid of ending up homeless. i felt like it was just a few bad choices away, life on the street. like somehow if i didnt follow this exact right path, leaned my foot too far in one direction, wasnt paying attention to something big that would cause me to fall, that i would end up without anything or anyone. survival as an adult seemed so unstable, so uncertain. how did you end up comfortable, without fear of losing everything? of course survival is so much more complicated than that- our hearts are always causing complication even with the basic necessities being provided.

i started driving again and as i steadied my way up the hill towards mission st, i saw on the side of the road two heads bobbing along between the road and the fence- a homeless man and woman heading the same direction as the man before. there they were between a road full of cars on their way somewhere and a fence closing in a huge concrete company working steadily way. two people walking.

homesick

2006-09-25T17:25:00.000-07:00

its funny because the last time i wrote on this blog, i was halfway around the world, seeing sights, experiencing a new culture, soaking up the travel life and i was just fine. and now here i sit one month after my return, on my couch, in my house, in my hometown and i am homesick.

i have this working theory that those of us who try to follow after jesus have a special awareness that we as humans are not ever really at home here on earth, in these lives, in these bodies, there situations. based on that one part in 1 peter where it says something about us being aliens, foregeiners in a strange land, i have formulated this idea that no matter how hard we try, we wont ever feel totally like we are home, that we will always be yearning for a place that we cant quite get to yet.

its so deceiving, because we can be satiated with so many things of this life... we get used to certain comforts, certain expected ways of being, certain certainties. but nothing ever remains really constant. and when they do for awhile, we are bored and complain of stagnancy. its like, deep down we are just uncomfortable with this place- our souls, our very beings know something is wrong- but we just keep trying to cover that up and move from one feeling of comfort to the next.

when we lose a comfort that we got used to, especially a big one, like a person we love, or a place we counted on, or a way of being in the world that was easy... it devastates us. reminds us of our transience. shakes out the false comfort and leaves us with the reality of our own human desitution. we are so poor on our own. even with money, even with a job, a car, people around. we are just left lacking in so many ways.

this following after jesus thing.... its so real. its easy to follow after him sometimes, when you can see the instant results of difficulty. usually thats how it works for me. something terrible happens- a loss, a hard conversation, a period of confusion- and i begin analyzing it, looking for reasons, trying to see patterns, make sense of it. so many times, i can see in part why it seems like things happen. and many times, its not like i reason it out shallowly- many times i conclude that the answer is that this adversity is supposed to make me more like my maker. that i am sharing in his suffering to some degree. that my character is being refined. which is all well and good in retrospect, right? but in the midst of it, you are mess. you FEEL IT. because your a human.

i am so homesick right now. and no amount of reasons can make that feeling go away.

italian thinking

2006-08-14T15:12:00.000-07:00

i have been travelling europe for the past 13 days. i have seen a lot. i have thought a lot of bloggable thoughts. i am too tired and sunburned to recount them all, but here are a few about italy.

one. i love italy. not because its perfect, but because of all its little idiosyncracies and imperfections. the sheer insanity of the roads and driving. the dozens of near death experiences being inside and outside of a vehicle. the bad customer service in nice restaurants but the quaint hospitality of the street fruit vendors. the buildings and their inviting colors and artistic decay. the people, alternatively stylish and smug, and endearing and normal.

two: the gelateria on every corner. michael wanting gelato at every possible moment.

three: the sun and sky and clouds only slightly different from those in california, but still begging me to try to capture them with my camera.

four: ciao! as hello and goodbye

five: having pasta and pizza every night for dinner. yummy.

six: the history. the thousands of years of life and trauma and beauty and triumph this place has seen.

seven. the epicness of the coastline.... again looks slightly like ca coastline, but totally different. listening to *we live in a beautiful world* being sung out over the waters as we ride the ferry home from little positano.

eight: the little side streets in every city, every one of them looks as though a romantic moment is about to occur, or like an old woman will come out to sweep her steps and invite you in to have dinner or that a photograph is about to be taken to give that street eternal posterity.

nine: trains and windows and trees and perspectives and views. falling asleep to the ipod with the murmur of the train full of young italians on holiday laughing and joking. learning english from a nice teenage boy who felt bad for me trying to pronounce things correctly.

ten: cinque terra. every last detail of it.

thats all for now. more soon with pictures.

a wink

2006-07-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

recently i lamented to a friend that in the midst of all my busy-ness with ministry, all i wanted was to be able to go to a coffeeshop and hang out and maybe engage with people about faith and life and have it just be natural thing. i am sitting in capitola on a brilliant day, in mr toots coffeeshop looking out onto the busy beach streets, tourists all the over, people just buzzing around happy to be in the sun and to be free. i am working on a talk i am giving next week and have my bible open. no one else, save for the coffeeshop workers, are in here on such a gorgeous day. as i am spacing out listening to "the fray" and lost in thought about the great commandement and great commission and how our stories are part of God's larger story, a man approaches me and asks if i am studying the bible. And i pull out my headphones and say, yes I am. He asks me if he can ask a question about Matthew (which is exactly the book i am studying in right now!) and i say sure. He asks about praying in public vs praying in private and how it says in matthew to go into a closet and pray alone, but how people pray in public over meals and asks why that is. i answer that i think it has to do with your heart- if you are praying in public to gain attention or show how spiritual you are, thats one thing- but if it is truly to give God thanks, than i think thats ok. i also said i dont think its a rule in the bible that you have to pray a certain way at all time... sometime prayer is totally private and sometimes its healthy to pray in groups as a way of connecting. he thanked me and said he just wondered about that and then walked away.

and i just smiled. God does this to me sometimes, just winks at me- i know what you need, kristin.

let me explain the best

2006-06-28T09:54:00.000-07:00

yesterday was a pretty tough day. a lot of things are changing around me and try as i might, there is nothing i can do to control them. its times like this that are the best and the worst.

worst because most times big changes are painful and we cant see the reasons behind them. worst because in our limited view, the outcome seems to bring nothing but pain and heartache.

best because in this near-broken state, i am coming to understand what it means to pray without ceasing and what true comfort really is.

i went into the empty sanctuary yesterday and sat in one of those much contested pews. i told God outloud that i didnt understand what was happening and cried to him. it felt strange hearing my voice echo in the room... a room where thousands of prayers have been prayed, many in silence. i kept expecting someone to come inside and find me in this vulnerable state- but, i kept telling him what was going on and though he already knew it all, it felt right to just say it outloud. maybe to remind myself that he is listening. i needed comfort so badly- i wanted it from anywhere, a voice, a hug, the right words to tell me it would all be ok. for some reason God is the last one you go to for this, but the one who satisifies that need more completely than we know. i think the comfort he brings is not the instantaneous comfort of physical touch or audible words... its so much deeper, so more settling to the core. an under-gurded peace, one you need to keep reminding yourself is there- since in your human state you are always running around looking for the immediate.

best because in suffering, we can be united with all others who are suffering, somehow understanding each other through the pain and making us closer.

i had read in that same henri nouwen book (the way of the heart) two nights ago the concept that as "ministers of the word" (ie people in ministry) we are always dealing with people who are suffering and in pain. so many times, "what we (ministers) desire most is to do away with suffering by fleeing from it or finding a quick cure for it....doing something to show our presence makes a difference." He goes on to say "And so we ignore our greatest gift, which is our ability to enter into solidarity with those who suffer." yesterday, in facing a lot of change and pain and a strange sort of suffering, i thought of those words i had read. as the day progressed, i saw a woman in a wheelchair eating lunch with her husband. she had no legs past her knees. and my heart just hurt, thinking of what that must have been like for her to lose them. and then later, as we prayed down by the water, one of the benches near us had a name engraved on it, with the birth and death date only 5 years apart. and i thought of those parents who had lost their 5 year old and my heart hurt, thinking of what that must have been like for them to lose her. i thought again of nouwen's concept of entering into solidarity with those who suffer and as we sat praying by that bench, i understood something of the reality of that solidarity.

the infinite abyss

2006-06-25T02:20:00.000-07:00

i had a divine appointment today. scheduled right from God, it seems. why he makes them so late sometimes, especially before an early sunday morning church gathering, is beyond me. but i am thankful he is in charge of my divine schedule and not me.

tonight, i got to talk with a dear friend for a couple hours--someone who i have always wanted to be closer to but never got a chance to really talk this way with-- parked in my car in front of her house. it was one of those convos where i felt like we could have talk forever and ever... it seemed like it could have just kept going. and the topics transitioned so easily into each other and kept revealing more and more and opening up all these new worlds and interesting things to explore. i would like to have seen a painting of our conversation, it would be stunning.

one subject we touched on was the idea of this abyss we all have inside of us. that there is this deep down loneliness, a black hole-like thing, that we all carry around. and we try to fill it with all sort of things-- sometimes petty things like better clothes, better technology, better belongings; sometimes bigger things that seem like they may actually fill it all the way up-- a better job, a better location, a better significant other. but the truth is that it never gets filled up, because its an abyss... an infinite abyss (garden state, anyone?)-- and those can't be filled. we talked about how at some points in our lives, we become more keenly aware of our abyss, and that sudden awareness of the abyss is often terrifying. usually the awareness comes when we slow down our lives from all the busy-ness and crazy schedules and people and things and do's. its like when we stop cluttering our lives and see them for what they are, this giant hole is revealed. and most times, we don't know what to do with it. henri nouwen talks about this in one of his books... how we need to recognize we have this abyss, that its present and does not go away and we need to learn how to navigate it. we cant let ourselves be consumed by it, but we cant ignore it either. we have to just learn to look at it, know its there and understand how not to fall in. thats a loose explanation of what he so eloquently said, but you get what i mean.

on another possibly related note, i have been watching the sky a lot more lately. every morning i drive down from scotts valley into santa cruz. usually scotts valley is gorgeous in the morning, all sunny and warm and everything is just radiant and hopeful. as i drive down into santa cruz, the skyline changes into a gray/brown/miserable foggy color, usually right at the ocean line. every morning this week, i would think to myself, "huh? i wonder which is going to win today, the fog or the sun?" because sometimes the fog sticks around all day and the sun can't seem to break through it. but somedays, usually by noon or one, the sun will break through and santa cruz becomes all glorious. tonight, coming home from my friends place, santa cruz was cloudy, but the road was clear. as i came into scotts valley, the fog was thick and closer to the ground. all along the highway were lamposts creating these brilliant triangles of fog infused light. you couldnt tell that they were even lamposts, they just looked likes lights coming out of nowhere, unattached to anything, suspended from nothing. and it was this beauitful moment- somewhere in it was a metaphor about the night and fog and the road and a source of mysterious light guiding me home.

small talk

2006-06-20T22:58:00.000-07:00

i am sort of beginning to realize that small talk can be really draining. i am a pretty extroverted person (and have always been) but i think i am beginning to get a little more introverted as time goes by. and i am realizing that putting out the effort to make small talk is getting a bit more difficult as i go more intro.

i was in trader joes today and had the realization that i always feel really awkward when i interact with the checkers there. they seem like really cool people, many of them have tattoos and piercings and funky hair and i always think to myself, i would like to talk to/hang out/become friends with these people. but i am not sure how exactly to do that and when i try to make small talk, i just feel really dumb. like, just, i don't know, like i am trying too hard? not that those people are rude, at all!! but more like, i am trying to be casual, you know cool- breezy (i'm breezy!) and then... awkward silence...! and i suck with silence, i can't take it.

today i finally asked this checker, named moses, if it was hard to make small talk with people all day. he laughed and said yes, but that some people dont talk back really and sometimes there is all kinds of awkward silence with the customers and then they just leave. he said he just gets used to the silence.

moses wants to be a photographer and has a showing at a new brewery in town, which is very interesting to me and he was very excited to tell me about it. it was cool to have that 2.5 minute conversation and watch someone doing their mundane check out job and then see them just light up when talking about what they are passionate about. i love that.

loving people is not efficient

2006-06-19T17:31:00.000-07:00

yesterday, a man visiting vintage said to me that if the church was really living out its call, that it would not settle right with most people, because it would be so radically different than what most of the world looks like. he goes to different churches in the area to see what they are doing and then has a website that is a resource for people looking for a church to be part of. most churches, he says, are hidden away in suburban areas and rarely put themselves in a place to be confronted with the ills of whats actually happening in the world. as we talked, he looked me square in the face and just said that jesus angered most of the leaders around him by doing what he did. and that if a church today was living the way he did, it would cause some serious reaction in those around them.

then dan, in the message he gave yesterday, recounted in the book of john how jesus basically told the religious leaders to their face that they did not know God.

then, i was listening to one of derek webb's live albums today and he was talking about the danger of following Jesus and how those of us who try to make this endeavor our lifes work are not in for a life that will not offend people- that living for jesus will get us into trouble and will not be easy. i love it, because he wasn't saying that we should be jerks about our faith, but that when we present the gospel and live out the gospel, it should not feel cozy and nice all the time. and it should not make everyone happy. and then he goes on to say that loving people is not efficient.

and I am just utterly intrigued, because it feels like in some strange way, these words are shades of my new color.

2006-06-17T23:15:00.000-07:00

i feel like the inside of me is turning a different color

leaving

2006-06-14T17:51:00.000-07:00

today, i spent time with my dear friend maxwell. we waited in line for what seemed like hours to get some yummy picnic food. it was clear and perfect in santa cruz and we found our way out to lighthouse field, to sun and wind and we set up our little picnic. we kept talking about how he leaves tomorrow for a road trip across the country which will end up in ohio, where he will stay for good. and its weird. because i am used to just being able to call him and just go hang out, do whatever, chill. and how is that not happening anymore? i dont like leaving , when i have to do it or when other people do it to me. but then, i do love travel and adventure and change. and leaving is part of that.

and i wonder when will it be me leaving all this?

that is scary... lets not talk about it, ok?

the messy of ministry

2006-06-06T18:20:00.000-07:00

yep, it certainly is messy.

for the 6 years i have been following Jesus, i have been in full time ministry for almost 3. its been pretty wild, considering the ministry has been a church plant. a church plant that moved to a new building at age 2. a church plant with a lot of people and a lot of ambitions. and a lot of expectations, as our dear danny's books have cause us to be under the microscope of many who want to know what we do and how we do it and a few who don't like what we do at all.

i dont know if i am at the point where i can make a lot of poignant observations about ministry-- i dont think i am in a place to disperse all kinds of wisdom about how its done or how it should look, because i am coming to the place of realizing that it is just really really messy. and all the systems and structures and strategies are great to give us a framework and move things forward. but living in those things, the systems.... its not really real. i think sometimes i want to live by the structures and what they impose, rather than in the heart of what they are meant to help and move along. maybe i am not making sense, but i just honestly feel like somewhere in the last 3 years, i have missed the point. or a few points. sometimes i am on, sometimes off. some days i LOVE WHAT I DO, are you JOKING?! its the best job in the world. other days, i want to be as far from anything "church" as possible.

lately, its definitely been tough. i think after we moved buildings, we lost a bit of our fire. like, all the effort to get this thing over to a new place has sapped us. not only is it a move into a new place, but we got new roomies and are learning how they live with them and maybe one day join as one big family in the same house. we shall see. in the process of moving and learning about the new roomies and unpacking our rooms and trying to figure out how to live here, i think we got blurry eyed about the community. how do you actually care for a whole community of dynamic, complex individuals, with all their needs and struggles? maybe not care for them, like the staff has to counsel every individual, but making sure that we are encouraging and equipping the community to actually care for itself, to function as a united healthy body. whats the balance between the gathering and helping it to be dynamic and quality and invigorated with that something to help people experience God more deeply ... and.... investing in the training and care and growth of people who come to that gathering and who meet during the week as the church? are we even making an impact on people outside of the church community?

i dont have any answers.

i think my lack of answers/peace about having no answers, coupled with complete exhaustion and the vague/pressing feeling of panic about my future (what am i DOING with my life?!?) has lead me to a point of near burn out. by God's grace, i get to travel to Europe this summer and do one of my most favorite things (adventure!), which i am hoping and eagerly expecting will change my perspective and outlook, so that i might have some sense of what to do when i return. perhaps it will be a new me who comes home?

today, at our staff meeting, i got a taste of a new perspective. instead of jumping in to church "business" as we sometimes do, we spent some good time praying for each other and for the community. then, we opened up the scriptures (mark) to the story of jesus healing the deaf and mute man by putting his fingers in the mans ears and touching his own spit to the mans tongue and declaring "be opened"-and when the crowds found out about this, they went crazy and told everyone. i am sure i had heard/read this sometime before, but i got a new view of it today. just of jesus' fingers in your ears and his spit on your tongue and his voice saying "BE OPENED"... something in that, its so visceral and real- (jesus! a person with fingers, spit and a voice!) i don't know. i just loved it. we discussed it, had a mini little bible study about it. lots of good things were said, observations made and conclusions taken away. josh made the point that sometimes in ministry, we get to see stuff like this... people being healed/changed so completely after an encounter with Jesus and/or his church and it being made known to everyone to celebrate and marvel at. and sometimes, its not so obvious- sometimes, little things happen that never go noticed, but that are equally as amazing and should be just as celebrated.

so we spent the next 30 minutes or so talking about the big things and little things of our ministries: ministry teams getting new members that where much needed, the youth group experiencing amazing times of worship and connection and having plenty of capable and excited leaders, people in the gathering truly experiencing God's spirit and being compelled to be involved and want to be part of the church, a group of musicians who had walked away from the faith beginning to meet with one of the pastors for bible study... just amazing things that happen each week that we forget to tell each other and forget to really celebrate. after those quick 30 minutes of sharing stories, we prayed and it just became so clear: we need to REALLY CELEBRATE whats been going on, even the smallest things. we must be diligent to allow ourselves to bask in the wonder of what God is doing in this community, we must recognize that these stories are why we do what we do!! i am an encourager, its definitely up there on my list of gifts, but i realized i had been so bogged down with the messiness of ministry, that i had been forgetting to encourage by story telling, had forgotten to look for the happy moments in all the mess. because if we cant celebrate those things, why are we doing this at all?

its not slowing down. its not getting easier. no amount of structuring and systematic planning will ever make ministry perfect. seasons will change, some are less intense, some more. but the goal is still there. the God at the center of it all is still the same and will always be. i want to keep my eyes on that, not the mess.

this is beautiful

2006-05-31T13:23:00.000-07:00

If I am alive this time next year, will I have arrived in time to share?
And mine is about as good this far.
And I'm still applied to what you are.
And I am joining all my thoughts to you.
And I'm preparing every part for you.
And I heard from the trees a great parade.
And I heard from the hills a band was made.
And will I be invited to the sound?
And will I be a part of what you've made?
And I am throwing all my thoughts away.
And I'm destroying every bet I've made.
And I am joining all my thoughts to you.
And I'm preparing every part for you.

in the middle...

2006-05-21T14:45:00.000-07:00

a few nights ago I had an interesting conversation with a friend about stuff of the Bible. We talked about Genesis- how its original audience could not have grasped the concept of the earth as a sphere or even have had a fraction of the knowledge we have about the planet/universe/galaxy etc, and how the explanation of the world being formed being so simple kind of makes sense in light of that. Also, the weightiness and significance of the words “In the beginning…” We also talked about the fact that when you explain the actual basis of the Christian faith, it sort of sounds crazy: someone died and was raised from the dead and we get to talk to and relate to and be together with God forever because of that. A lot of stuff in the Bible is sort of nutty, if you think about it: people being raised from the dead, being taken up to heaven in a cloud, seas being parted, people being swallowed by whales. It’s actually a pretty wacky set of things to believe in, if you think about it. Not that I don’t want to believe, but I just think its interesting when you start to view it from a certain perspective.

So, yeah, thinking about these aspects of my faith, I sat there on the floor of my living room, leaning on the futon, sort of milling things over. I kneeled down and started talking to God about things- just praying for my friends and family and all the things going on in everyone’s lives: the good, the bad, the confusing, the beautiful. And then I sat up and looked across from me, to the empty place I imagined God to be. And I got sort of frustrated for a bit, thinking how I just wished I would have been able to lean over and touch God and have him talk to me, look at me, explain things to me. I wondered why He has chosen to not take physical form and stay in physical form, why would He not be manifested in some way that we could relate to him more easily. And I know, the standard answer to this is that He is EVERYWHERE, in His creation, in nature, in laughter, in a hug between friends, blah blah blah. But still, I just felt a bit cheated for a second. Like, God, why can’t I just touch you?

Then… I had this thought: some wise people from throughout my life have taught me that we can’t force the people we love to be the way WE think they should be: we need to let them be who they are… that to love is to accept others where they are and how they are. And I thought about the fact that I love God. I love Him for how He has always been to me, for who He is… and He has chosen to show himself to me the way that He has, however metaphysical and strange it may seem to people outside of it. How can I ask God to be the way I think He should be? I can’t impose my expectations on God, since I love Him and want to love Him how he is.

Granted, God is God and I am so small comparatively, that to think that I could impose expectations on Him is pretty ridiculous. But I like to think He will humor me in thinking these thoughts and exploring these possibilities.

I am glad to be where I am with Him.

wrestle

2006-05-08T23:31:00.000-07:00

i am wrestling. with a lot. last monday, there was such a sense of peace and calm before a storm just blew through my life. i am such an optimist, i almost missed it. but it flattened me today, the remnants of the storm making me achey and unsettled.... and i dont want to make it sound like "the" storm, as if somehow its the only one that has happened in a while or that its isolated and singular in its effects and aftermath. but its one of the storms that happen and those storms are to be expected. i wish i had better vocabulary to describe what it did. sometimes i get sick of the set of words i use for things and wish i could use a whole other language to say how it feels. why is there such a deep deep desire to explain inside of me? i know that somewhere in me is a writer, a story teller, a conveyer of how it is.

i went to this country western bar/dance club thing on saturday night. i am sort of ashamed to admit it, actually. but it was fun and i wont deny that i enjoyed myself, especially when the band covered usher's "yeah" and the guitarist actually rapped. i was pretty much in heaven right then. but most of the night i stayed inside myself and just observed. just watched people and wondered about them. why were they here? what was their motivation? what was their story? i wanted to get inside their brains and just wander around and figure them out. and write about them. there was this much older man in a flannel shirt sort of just lurking at the edges of the dance floor. he looked lost, a bit too old to be there at all, his eyes set on something none of us could see. every now and then i would see him bring a girl half his age onto the dance floor and show her a good dance. and you sort of expected him to be inappropriate or weird... but he just danced with her and spun her and touched the small of her back for just a second and then spun her again. and i just watched him- wondering how he got to be such a fine dancer? what brought him here tonight? what was he like when he was my age? was he lonely now?

i don't know.

there is wrestling. there is no definition. there is a realization that if everything i know is logically wrong, i still can't walk away from it because there is no where else to go. there is a standing on the edge of something and not being able to see. there is confusion and exhaustion and questioning.

ah, but then....

there is dancing.

holding pattern

2006-05-05T01:04:00.000-07:00

first, i think its kind of funny how my blog fluctuates between semi-poetic meanderings on life, records of memorable events, deeply theological/ecclesiological thoughts and other random things i feel like writing about. i am not really sure why i blog in the first place... its such a strange attraction to blog... they are like journal entries/records of your life/excuses for you to satisfy a desire for people to affirm you/tell you you are a good writer/pay attenton to you... i dont know.

i have been in this weird place since i got back from river rafting this weekend. like i cant go to sleep at night, even though i am super tired. like i am exhausted all the time and sort of overwhelmed by even the most simple things at work, but i have all sorts of energy to check myspace, blog-surf, eat lots of junk food and talk with people on the phone. maybe i am having indulgence overload and cant get myself to face the realities of being a person with a full time job and lots of responsibilities.

i had an amazing weekend with holly in super norcal (almost at the border of oregon and ca)-- lots of alone time (which is hard for me to take, being such an extrovert), lots of jaw-dropping natural beauty, lots of girl talk, lots of just goodness, you know? it was much needed and i came back refreshed... only to be tackled with an insane week at work with all kinds of different challenges that make the most route tasks seem absolutely impossible.

right now, i just have this strange feeling that things are changing... everything seems just slightly turned, like its heading in a different direction, like... i don't know, i cant describe it. i feel like i am ready to see things in a new way, to begin to expand out. more than anything- i need an adventure. an honest to goodness adventure. with unexpected twists, with unclear direction, with high stakes and lots of unknown. i dont know how you chase down adventure, or how you attain it. it doesnt seem like it should be something you should even have to attain or look for. seems like it should just find you. this isnt to say i am not challenged, or growing or striving. but... i feel restless.

words that you feel

2006-04-20T13:23:00.000-07:00

"what is the blooming tincture of the skin
to peace of mind and harmony within
what bright sparkling of first eye
to the soft soothing of calm reply"

i found that on the back of a gospel cd over easter weekend. it soothes me in all the insanity.

conversations, not conversions - part 1

2006-03-24T23:48:00.000-08:00

Last saturday night, i had one of the toughest conversations of my life. when you really love people and you really love God and the people you love don't agree with the God you love, it hurts. A lot.

I think conversations like last saturday's are pretty much absolutely essential for the growth of people who call themselves christians. I am starting to believe that without those conversations, follows of Jesus (like me) won't be able to grow right. Maybe you will grow, but you probably grow stunted. Stunted and slowly. Conversations like last weeks speed you up, make you grow right and straight. But with growth, pain.

Let me start where it starts. Last saturday came after weeks of prayer. Prayer that God would use me outside of my comfortable christians circles, outside of my consistent busyness, beyond the place i had been for so many months. And i am telling you, God answers prayers. Me and my new guy were meeting with a couple of dear friends for dinner downtown. After light introductory banter, laughter, beer analysis, and some fine conversation, my self and my friend somehow landed on the topic of individuality vs group mentality. As my friend spoke of groups, he brought up Christianity as an example of a group mentality. He, not being a Christian, had some criticisms for the way christanity approached individualism and disliked the way that Christians claimed to be "one" without recognizing the deep complexities of the individual. This quickly developed into an intense, often heated, discussion of Christianity.

As my friend spoke openly about his dislike for many aspects of the Christian faith and the idea of there even being a God at all, I could feel my heart quicken. It's pace slowly but surely fastened and i told it, "no, heart, this won't be one of those conversations, no need to get all worked up... this will get solved soon here and we will move on to easier topics..." But i was wrong.

With my heart rater increasing, my friend began to broach the idea/problem of christians claiming to have the exclusive knowledge of the way to heaven, and even questioned whether there was a heaven or afterlife at all, or if it was just a selfish way for us to look beyond the life we are given now and hope for something more. Other ideas brought up were the bible as myth- a good set of ways to live, but questionable as an actual account of history; the existence of God as an outward projection of our inner moral standards; the difference between the God of the Old Testament and New Testament; Jesus forgiving everyone vs. just those who believe in him now. I feel like i want to address all of these ideas in indivdual blogs, which i might do-- but for now, i want to give the story of the night. Maybe at some point we can dive in and you all can give me your thoughts.

So, as my friend brought up these ideas, I felt like i was swimming/drowning-- trying to keep my head afloat. You see, my friend is quite smart-- very articulate, very passionate. As he brought each of these things up one by one, i felt so inadequate to even begin trying to get into a deeper discussion of the points he was making. To some of what he said, i was able to engage him and try to give an answer to what he was questioning, but for so many things, i just had to admit to not completely understanding it all.

One of the major realizations that i had during this conversation was the idea that christianity is seen by so many people outside of the church as a series of moral ideals or rules. That by following a set of moral codes, one can earn their way into good graces with God and therefore get into heaven. And beyond this moral standard, there is not much more to christianity than a judgemental finger pointing at most of society and an agressive political agenda that alienates more than unites people (though i guess those two things can be put under the morality heading). A defining moment of the night was when my friend point blank asked me the most difficult question i think i ever have to answer: if he lives his whole life as a good person, living by the standards Jesus lays out for life but not necessarily believing that Jesus was the savior and the only way to eternal life, was Jesus going to deny him a place in heaven when he died? Even now, its hard to breathe and hard to think about that answer.

As insane as it sounds, and as little sense as it makes to my finite little mind, i don't think morality gets us into God's good graces and i don't think being a good person is what is most imporant in life. I hate that this concept has become a bit of a christianese catchphrase, but i know no other way than this to describe it.... its not about rules, its about relationship. From what i can understand and what stands up to experience and what is laid out in scripture, God cares first about our relationship with him, is primarily concerned with us loving him and desiring him and having faith in him. out of this relationship, our morality is formed, our being a "good person" comes into play.

Trying to articulate this idea of having a relationship with an invisible God who is outside of time and space is not easy. I felt crazy trying to explain it to my friend, who seemed both angry with my seemingly pat answer and confused at why his friend, whom he had known for 8 years, would answer that yes, she believed in a God who would not accept him without him having put faith in Jesus during his time on earth.

ah, this kills me, just writing it out. i am aware that anyone could read these words, even my friends from that night, and be angered, confused, disillusioned with what i am saying here. and i question the sanity of it all, sometimes. i mean, who hasn't? but somehow, in these last 6 years of living in relationship with God and trying to love him and lay down my life to be used as his,
i realize the truth that my ways are not his ways, my thoughts are not his thoughts.

more soon....

more on illumination

2006-03-09T10:27:00.000-08:00

Oh man, i SO should not be up right now. I am at the point of near exhaustion, after almost 2 weeks without a day off... oh man, oh man, Jesus help me.

BUT, i couldn’t not stay up and write... its always times like this that one feels most inspired and most fired up to let these writerly thoughts flow out... or maybe not even writerly so much as just EXCITED, INSPIRED, EAGER for more. Let me try to explain.

Tonight, i had my community group, which has been going now for about 5 months. In the beginning, it was kind of an awkward group and i had very little hope it would grow into anything substantial. I actually remember lamenting this fact to my mentor, worrying over the way it was going, fretting that it would just be sort of uncomfortable and surface forever. And God, in all his stinkin amazing wisdom and mercy, has literally created the most beautiful little family unit in this group and it is so dear to my heart in such a special, unique way, its really hard to put it down in words.

Tonight was just a perfect example of how beautiful everything is, how illuminated it all becomes when God does his thing in a group of willing people. I came to group so tired (and so tired, i couldn’t even really muster up enough energy to complain about being tired) and not having much of an idea of how the group would go. I had read up on Ephesians 4 and wanted to have an in depth, insightful study with everyone. But i couldn’t see how this would work. I was SO tired, and everyone else seemed pretty beat, too.

But as we all collected in Josh’s little living room and the buzz of conversation went on around me, i began to realize that despite my own “leadership”, there is so much more going on than me simply leading a discussion and us reading our Bibles. We all sort of languidly began sharing about our weeks, the highlights, the lowlights, the funny little idiosyncrasy’s, the lessons we were learning. It was quiet at times and talkative at others. Energy ebbed and flowed around and we sort of sat glowing. Maxwell shared about his theory on “acorns as spiritual gifts” metaphor and then did a little freestyle rapping about it, which made us all giggle and smile big smiles.

We opened up the 2nd half of Ephesians 4 and read. We began digging through the text and in time, it, too, was illuminated. Watching each person contribute to the discussion, adding their insight, experience, thoughts, it became apparent that God was at work. What I LOVE about this realization is that is the most subtle realization, it is the softest sentiment, the simplest shift... and you can just feel it go. Each person builds on the other, we all talk, add something, ideas are formed and expanded. As we sift through the meaning and talked through the themes, the truths, the realities of these words, I think everyone was taking away what they needed. It wasn’t one of those where everyone got onto the same page and we all came to the same conclusion or “application point”... it was all much more organic, raw. You just knew God was working it out in each of us.

And then...

...you begin watching everyone get quiet... but in a good way: a thoughtful, in-going quiet. A changing silence. And the glow of that. Ah, it’s a clear picture in my mind and it’s so sweet.

As we slowed down and let it all sink in, people began to get a bit vulnerable with where they were. Sharing struggles about families who denied the faith or who won’t give it a chance. Friends who can’t seem to understand, health problems that seem hopeless. Unspoken needs that can get lifted in the calling out to Him in our hearts when we pray as a group. And as we did pray together, the sweetness kept coming—not a sickening sweet, but one you savor. Amen.

After praying, we all sat around and talked about what the group meant to us. And a lot was said, and so much more could be said. I can’t quite put it all down here and now, but this is special. And this is church. I work for a church, and what we do Sunday’s is church. But this, THIS, this, its church in such a new way, such a vital way, such a needed way. I pray every group who meets could experience even a sliver of what goes on in our group. And what’s better, is that I don’t even think we have reached the best of what is to come. This is family. This is love.

I know that sometimes we can question why we are even here at all. What did God put us on earth for in the first place? There will always be someone to lead a study, someone to be part of a discussion, someone to be in a group. And maybe we won’t know our reasons in the end, maybe it won’t ever make perfect sense, the reasons. But all i know is that i wouldn’t miss nights like tonight for anything. I wouldn’t want someone else in my place tonight. I would hope everyone would have a chance to experience tonight, but i wouldn’t want to miss out on it. Something intricate and something big has brought me right to where i am: that divine plan has me where i am right now. Who am I to question that? Who am I to miss out on times like this, people like this, love like you find in nights like tonight?

Ah, live it- live it...

what are you waiting for?

what do you do when sin seems to yields no consequence?

2006-02-20T13:31:00.000-08:00

i got into an interesting discussion last night with a friend of mine who has been a christian since before he can remember. i had just come home from a loooooong day with vintage: we had had a full set of prayer stations in the gathering, a musical guest in the coffeehouse, 9 church leaders visiting from Michigan and on top of it, i was sick. all i wanted to do when i got home was have some soup and crash into bed, but God seemed to have other plans for me.

before i could collapse into bed, i ended up getting into quite a discussion with this friend of mine. basically, he shared with me that though he knows he isn't on top of things spiritually right now, it doesn't seem to be affecting him the way he thought it would. he is young, attractive and living the life of a normal 20-something guy... which involves sex, drugs and rock n' roll. now, fair enough, everyone goes through their rebellious stages and luckily, this guy has steered clear so far of pregnancy, std's, drunk dialing/driving, etc.

as we continued to talk, we got into a fascinating dialogue about the fact that though this person knows what he should be doing for God and understands that he is being tempted, it is easier for him to just sort of brush that under that rug and live the way he wants to, since, at this point, there haven't been any major consequences for the ways he is living. i mean, it would be different for him if some drastic, terrible consequence had occurred because of the way he has been living, but all he seems to be experiencing right now is a dull sense that he isnt living for God and a whole lot of immediate gratification for acting on his impulses and doing what feels good.

without going into super-detailed description of our talk, i guess i just wanted to raise this up, as think it is a really interesting thing to ponder: what do you do when sin seems to yield no consequence? when living out of your own impulses and desires feels better than living in obedience to God and you can't see why you should hold yourself back if nothing bad will happen to you?

i have a lot of thoughts on this, but (in the style of Rob and MM) i would love to hear what some of YOU all think?

a night i won't forget

2006-02-05T23:39:00.000-08:00

These are the times you want to remember. Nights like these are absolutely without question PRICELESS. Tonight, I gave my first message at Vintage Faith. It was about stewarding our hearts. I had been preparing for tonight for the past week pretty intensely... studying scripture, praying, talking with people, hashing through structure and transition with Rob, dissecting meaning and purpose with Mom. But as I prepared, I realized that God had begun working on this message in me years ago. Two verses about the heart, prov 4:23 and phil 4:6-7 had been beacons in my dark times for the past 5 years. I had turned to them both for wisdom and guidance so many times, they felt like familiar faces which eased my heart and gave me peace beyond my own comprehension. And as the message came together this past week, they emerged as the two main verses i would be focusing on.

I have always heard before from people who speak that the week prior to them giving their message, they are always tempted or struggling with the very topic that they are about to speak on. And it was so true for me this week. I felt a deep, deep struggle in my heart about the very things i was to be talking about tonight. The story i shared tonight had to do with my struggle to keep God first in my heart before my romantic relationships. So many times in my walk with God, when it came to affection from a guy, whether emotional or physical, i had the hardest time saying no, even when i knew its not what God had for me. This week, there were a couple of very difficult nights of having to battle with this temptation, whether it be simply about the attention i wanted or was getting from a guy or the blatant opportunity i had to get into a relationship that wasn’t what God wanted for me.

At the times of these temptations this week, it wasn’t super clear to me what was going on, but looking back, i see how very easily my integrity could have been compromised had i chosen differently. I see now that the very story i shared tonight and the huge amount of growth that i have had in the area of romantic relationships is bearing fruit (to use a terribly overused metaphor) even now. Had I been tempted the way i was this week 3 years ago, there is NO WAY i could have survived it. I felt that so many moments this week i could have broken down and given in to my impulses... but God, in all his gracious mercy, protected me.

A series of beautiful moments and details that surrounded the message tonight....

The Augustine quote i used at the end of the message was taped on a mirror i had all through college. The quote always struck me and seemed to always call out to me and it was beautiful how perfectly it worked for the message tonight, as if it stuck around all this time just to be used tonight.

A number of times this week, people have mentioned that God knew before I was even born that I would be speaking tonight. The same concept came up in a number of scriptures that I happened to read this week.

The many emails, phone calls, and myspace messages I received from people offering support, prayer, encouragement and love for me; every one of them I held dear to my heart and i printed them all out and took them on stage with me tonight as a reminder that God's community was there with me.

My mom’s phone call this morning to tell me that her devotional this morning had to do with Jesus' temptation in the desert and then the sermon he gave after his temptaion that was met with adoration for his words over his message (which was not how he wanted it to be received)-- a reminder that even Jesus was tempted... and that it didn't matter what my words were tonight, only that the right message was spoken.

As I prayed outside this afternoon in the unseasonably warm February sun, i observed a bee next to me, simply breathing. This intricate, complex little design just next to me, tiny, breathing. Being reminded that when it feels right, ministry in any capactiy should be as easy as breathing.

Watching the room get set up, the band practice, the tech team prepare and all the outrageously wonderful people I get to serve with each week. It overwhelmed me.

Putting on the wireless mic for the first time and later seeing Dan wearing an apron because he was setting up the drinks and cookies ... an odd, endearing contrast for the night.

Before going on stage to talk, I snuck behind the curtains. It was “mingle time” and they had put on Mute Math in the background- my current favorite band. As I paced around back there, I sang out loud to the song “And i know-there’s got to be another love, some-where closer to the other side”... this filled me with in expressable joy :)

About 3 minutes into the message, my mouth got so dry that I had to stop everything and jokingly ask for my water bottle i had forgotten. My dad eagerly jumped up and handed it to me. I love that being a beginner means i can do stuff like this and it comes off as endearing and lovable!

After stepping down off the stage, I walked over and my Mom hugged me and held me and said that I had given God's message so clearly and so perfectly. Next, I saw Marilyn and Erika's faces, two who are dear to me, but who aren't part of any church. They seemed profoundly moved and I trust it was the Spirit doing it’s thing. Erika told me I had come into a new part of life, that she saw me differently now, that what i had said and the way i had said it had meant so much to her, had affected her. Her eyes told me more than her words and it made every bit of nervousness and hour of preparation worth it, just for that moment.

The people who came up to me afterwards and encouraged me... what they said is enough to make someone get a big fat ego, which I am not above :). So, I have to give all the credit to God here, since its all for his glory in the end anyways. But those moments i will treasure and take as encouragement from my community of believers that will spur me on in my darker moments.

It's so funny because as I drove home tonight, I was struck by a wave of loneliness. Though I have probably never felt as loved as I have tonight by so many people, and so affirmed in my worth and so sure of God's way of redeeming every hard circumstance, I still, still struggle with feeling lonely simply because there is no "boy" to come home to. Just as this thought crossed my mind, I looked up to the sky and I saw a huge circle around the moon, a giant moonglow and i just laughed. No matter how amazing a guy might be in my life, there is no one, NO ONE like God. No one knows me like him, no one can get to my heart like Him. No one will ever be as close to me as He is.

If i could chose one day to have someone follow me around and record my life, so far, this would be that day... it was a near perfect day. A day that I will look to for inspiration when i forget why i am in ministry at all. A day that i will remember for how loved i felt. A day that will stand as a reminder that God redeems everything, in His beautiful, perfect time.

a reason for the mission

2006-01-23T14:06:00.000-08:00

last sunday, the staff from vfc went over to first pres (which is the church we are "joining ministries" with in about 77 days :) ) to be introduced to the community there at their morning gathering. (for details on why, see our website http://www.vintagechurch.org/missionStreet.php

Now, if any of you know me very well, i am definitely not a morning person, so i was quite pressed to make it out of bed that morning (especially in the fortress of ice that is my house, oi, thats a whole other blog!). The sun was shining, though, and it made for a perfect excuse to be up earlier than normal on a weekend. As I snuck into first pres a few minutes late, I spied Rob in the back row. I slid in next to him and observed what was happening. The pews were about 1/3 full, the room was quiet, gentle. There were a good number of older people there (which is different for my eyes: i am used to seeing a sea of young faces at vintage each week)... at first this was weird for me, but then i grew acustomed to it and actually got excited. the more i see vintage grow, the more i am convinced having people from the entire age spectrum as part of community can only benefit everyone.

observing the demeanor of the people and the room, it sunk in just how different vintage really is to this community and i pondered how exactly it would work for us to "join" in ministry? how is this going to actually happen? will we disrupt the community they have built here? will they hate they way we do things and want us to leave? how will this happen, God?

as i battled around in my head for a few minutes, i noticed a girl walk in from the side. she was probably 23-25ish and looked like any average UCSC student ... track jacket, sun glasses, shorts, flip flops, unsettled to be in a church. i was instantly aware of her presence here and watched her find a seat. she sat alone.

she sat directly underneath one of the stained glass windows and the morning light was luminous through that window, putting a glow around her. my eyes couldnt stay away from that part of the room. for some reason, i couldnt help but keep wondering what she was thinking about all of this. If she was like the 99% of UCSC students, she doesn't associate herself with anything to do with christianity, church etc. But she was here. she was sitting here, observing, listening even singing a long a little bit with some of the hymns.

i kept glancing over her way, and i was filled with this sense that she was one of the many reasons for our two churches to be taking this huge risk to join in the mission together. something had drawn her here today, perhaps. maybe she saw this church driving up to campus (it is located at one of the busiest intersections in the city, right near UCSC), maybe one day she had sat at the bus bench just in front of the church waiting to be taken up to campus. i didnt know her story, but the more i thought about it, the more i began to feel deeply in my heart that God was showing her to me for a reason: that i must feel the reality of why we needed to get our church to this area, why we must continue to pursue this vision for a new kind of church that is accessible and real to people who have never really experienced Jesus before, or who had a bad taste in their mouths about religion, christians and the name "Jesus."

As we transitioned from the "children's sermon" to Dan's message, Lee prayed for a bit and i leaned my head down and prayed for this nameless girl, whoever she was. my heart began to come apart a little bit for her and her story and it felt drawn out. as of late, i had felt more inside the "church bubble" than i liked, more disassociated from people who don't know Jesus and my heart had felt hardened about the reason that we are on this mission in the first place. i was feeling greatful for my heart being more pliable, easier to shape.

As we all said amen, i lifted my head and looked to wear she had been. the seat was empty. And i felt her absence even more deeply than i had felt her presence.

losing something you never had

2006-01-11T12:08:00.000-08:00

its funny how we get our expectations up about things we never really have in the first place. you can spend so much time anticipating how amazing something should be and you get so excited about it. You imagine how awesome it will be when you get to fully enjoy the realization of the anticipation you have, you begin holding onto the little details you have noticed, the swells of emotion that occur when you brush up against the hope and you begin believing all of these things as facts that can't be anything but true.

what's so hard is when you ignore the few little red flags which seem to pop up in the your peripheral as you race along towards your expectation. i am the worst, because i do actually see them, even recognize them and talk about them to others. I think somehow that if i do acknowledge them, perhaps they will be minimized, going from a giant flag that flaps loudly when its windy to a tiny little paper flag you could stick in a tropical drink.

I am seeing more and more that I am so willing to risk the danger associated with the red flags for the potential happiness that it could be confused with desperation. Am I desperate or open? Am i easy to catch or accessible to know? How do we ever get beyond the beginning if we run away because of every potential hazard? How do we avoid getting hurt if we are willing to risk our hearts for an expectation that could turn into beautiful reality?

how do you mourn something you never really had?

wrapping paper and a thousand places

2006-01-03T00:06:00.000-08:00

i went to bookshop santa cruz the other day in a last minute attempt to buy a gift for my little brother, who was turning 20. As i cruised the magazine and gift card section, hoping for the perfect 20 year old brother present to come my way, i found the "Thousand Places to Go before you Die" Travel Journal. I remembered that a few months ago, my brother had surprised me by commenting that he would like to visit Europe one day. Now, this is the little brother who was an absolute terror to go anywhere with when we were kids. Everytime my parents thoughtfully selected a location for the family to travel to for some acculturation and familial bonding, he would throw a fit and complain that all he wanted to do was play video games and stay inside all day. When i heard he wanted to see Europe, my heart lept with joy, since i myself actually lived in England when i was 20 and 21 and found it to be one of the most life altering experiences i could ever imagine (i know how cliche that sounds, but its so true).

So, as i remember that conversation, i resolve to buy him this journal to encourage his travel spark to actually ignite into something tangible. As I head to the complimentary gift wrapping center in the back of the store, i am feeling like a pretty wonderful older sister for this thoughtful gift. As i began wrapping the gift, the woman next to me noticed the journal and commented:

"Ah, I have the book that goes along with that journal... we must be on similar journeys"

"Oh, yeah, actually, i bought it for my brother, he is turning 20 and i wanted to encourage him to travel, since i lived in England when i was 20," I replied, feeling immediately at home with this warm older woman.

"Oh that is wonderful!" she said.

"Yeah, it was life changing... so, have you been to the 'Thousand Places' yet?" i asked her, both of us wrapping our gifts.

"Yes, many of them! But i have never lived abroad, only travelled to the different places i have gone."

"Wow, thats great!!" I said, "I always think you have to live overseas to really travel extensively."

"No! I have been travelling for most of my life and i have seen so much!"

"That is so encouraging. I love travelling so much, but i worry i won't be able to go once i am married and have kids... i am thinking i have to squeeze it all in right now," i explained.

"Oh, well, yes, its good to try and go as much as you can right now, since you never know what will happen... but don't worry, you can travel throughout your whole life! I certainly did! I dragged my kid along and it was the best gift I could have ever given them!"

I couldnt believe that i was having this conversation. in the last few weeks, i have been thinking a lot about my desire to travel and wondering how it would work itself out in my life, sort of panicking that the longer i wait, the more i miss my chance to see the world.

After a short, thoughtful pause, I said with a giant smile, "Thanks you so much! Its so encouraging to hear that... Happy New Year!"

"The same to you" she said and she smiled and walked away.

Gift in hand for my little brother, i marvelled at how beautifully God can orchaestrate chance conversations and give us little gifts where we least expect them.

2 things

2005-12-30T02:04:00.000-08:00

1. becoming new.

each time i go to read anything this week, the same concept keeps being brought back to me: becoming new. i cannot escape it. perhaps in all the places where i am used to being the old me, i am supposed to be reminded to become new again.

i find that old "me" from christmas time... the old me wanting all the best clothes and music- to look the best and to feel the best. the old me wanting to impress my siblings, to feel wanted, to feel on top of everything. the old me just wanting acceptance for things that exist only at the surface.

i find the old "me" within cherished friendships from the past... the old me who used to act a certain way or say certain things-- the"boy crazy" me, or silly, innocent me, lives in her hometown me.

i find the old "me" in my thoughts... wondering if i will ever get married, worrying about how i look, unconcerned with things that truly matter.

i just wonder, what happens in our heads that we revert back to our old "me's" -- what circumstance or situation or setting creates a place for that old person to exist?

i do know this new "me"... i have been discovering her for the past few years and i really really like her. she doesnt care all that much about looking cool or being attractive... she is much more confident and assured than her old silly self, so much wiser and more solid than before... her thoughts are on many things, all complex and layered and intricate and not centered on selfish desires or petty "needs" all the time.

i want to become new. i want this new me. i think i know this new me.

eph 4:22You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; 23to be made new in the attitude of your minds; 24and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

2. mystery

i saw a dear old college friend today. we randomly ran into each other in the strangest of all places (kirkwood ski resort) and ended up riding ski lifts and snowboarding down mountains all afternoon. in one of our ski-lift length conversations, he said something that struck me: he has given up trying to figure out some of the things he was always trying to know and accepted that there are some things he will never understand. i just thought it was one of the most profoundly simple realizations we can have and let it sit with me for a while. being such an overly analytical person, i must spend most of my time in my head trying to work things out (hence this second night of sleeplessness despite total exhaustion from snowboarding all day) and am rarely ever able to admit that there are some things i will never understand.

i have had the fleeting thought over the past couple of years that we will never fully understand the mystery of our world, both inside and out. and i have even played with the idea that i can't fit God into a box: i have said that many times, actually... though the metaphor is very overused, i will admit. but i don't think i have, or am really able to at the moment, fully dwell in any of the mystery of the world, of my self, of other people and of God. but i want to just sit mystery down on the edge of my bed and have a good look at it for awhile. let myself settle in on what it seems to look like and study how it behaves.

i think i like this mystery, this unknowing.

i needed this

2005-12-01T11:57:00.000-08:00

"The only lasting freedom from self-consciousness comes from a profound awareness that God loves me as I am, not as I should be. He loves me beyond worthiness and unworthiness, beyond fidelity and infidelity. He loves me in the morning sun and the evening rain without caution, regret, boundary, limit or breaking point; that no matter what I do, He can't stop loving me. When I am really in conscious communion with the reality of the wild, passionate, relentless, stubborn, pursuing, tender love of God in Jesus Christ for me, then it's not what I've got to or I must or I should or I ought; suddenly I want to change because I know how deeply I am loved."

Brennan Manning

suddenly outside of the in

2005-11-19T16:18:00.000-08:00

i, for many years, have felt that i was inside. i was told by many people so many times that i was so fun and so easy to be with and just well, cool. not cool as in overly cool. not cool as in "laguna beach" cool or santa cruz surfer chick cool, but cool like just you know, down. like i could be in crowds and feel alright. like i could easily associate with anyone, make them feel alright. make friends so easily, make it all feel alright so easily.

and i am different now. just different.

i can't even say i am outside, because outside has become in. indy rock, hipster clothes, underground opinions and back alley attitudes... its all very in. and thats all slowy becoming mainstream, but teetering there somewhere in between. and i don't fit that, i am not an outsider, except to those who are inside of the out. i have become suddenly outside of the in and its really really uncomfortable. painfully so.

i think i am speaking in half terms: the grounds i speak on about being in and out are spilt in half. half i speak of culture, music, fashion, whatever. half i speak of the social circles, friendships. i don't fit the way i used to and its devastating to this once social butterfly, this once drama girl.

all i can make of it is that even the comfortableness of being "me" is being taken away. being broken down. so i can be of someone else. but if you can't be you and you can't be either inside or out, where are you then?

assignment 1: the distance between absence and excess

2005-10-27T23:29:00.000-07:00

My roomate Bethany has taken it upon herself to assign me topics to write about. The thing about Bethany is that basically everything that comes out of her mouth is a sound bite... and not a shallow sound bite, not a throw away line, but things that just stick with you, you have to chew on them for a while to get them, and when you do (IF you do, cause sometimes they are so brilliant, she needs to explain them to you :) ) you realize that you could unpack them for a few hours, write some essays on them and then bring them up to other people as if they were your own and they would think you are just so smart-- all the while, you know inside that you are not and you are sad--but happy, too, that you know someone like her :)

Ok, so, now that you have an introduction, here we go...

Oh, wait, so you might be wondering why i need to be "assigned" things to write about... ok, the reason is.... that i can't think of good ideas on my own. I just can't. I mean, sometimes i can, but it is rare. If someone gives me a sentence, a word, a concept, anything to get me going, i can go. But sitting in front of my computer, i get nothing. i can begin on some existential idea, or how i am feeling, but i think without direction, feelings just get so messy, so cerebral, so just unclear, that they don't really stick to anything and you feel sort of cheap after you read inarticulated, unformulated, badly written feelings, because they probably mean way more to the person who wrote them than to you, the reader. I digress....

Its interesting that Bethany should give me this topic to write about, because as of late, i have been going through a subtle, but drastically needed paradigm shift... and its a shift that every fleshly bone in my body wants to resist. The sift is that I am trying to put aside excess and exist in the absence of the part of myself that craves worldliness.

Let me present a few cases in point:

1. Everytime i am in the supermarket, no matter how hard i think i am trying, i CANNOT stop looking at the supermarket tabloid magazines. I wonder if there is some sort of condition for this, because, seriously, it is a strange, sick addiction. It begins innocently enough. You just glance over.... "hmmm, i wonder what is going on with Brad and Angelina... oh wait, new news on Jessica and Nick!!... ohh, let me have a look here at another" and then its over. You have to look at every magazine cover out there, every tantalizing headline, every exclusive pic (though they all look waaaaay too photoshopped to be real anyways). And eventually you just have to grab one, flip through it and there it is, you have fully emmersed yourself in the alternate universe known as "celebrity culture"... you greedily soak up all the glossy, pictures of the beautiful people, you read the little articles about their spending habits and their parties and their weddings and divorces and... ugh, it makes my stomach turn over a bit just reliving it. You do this for the 3-5 minutes you are waiting in line (sometimes its shorter, if your boyfriend gives you a hard time for getting sucked in and then you have to put the mag back and defend yourself that you just wanted to see the film reviews or, uh, whatever) and then the minute you get your change and walk out the door, you realize what you have done. And you just get sad because of it, since you promised yourself you wouldn't perpetuate the whole sick cycle anymore. The thing is, that in your stronger moments, you have recognized the pitfalls of celebrity culture. For you (because some people can remain healthy in their relationship with celebrity culture), you know that its not a good thing to begin tangling yourself up in the "news" you find in these magazines (or on E! or VH1 or the gossip section of MSN.com or whatever other outlet you can find). I think what happens to me (i am back to first person, its hard to go in 2nd person for so long), is that i start seeing what i never will have. I am seeing what i will never look like. I am recognizing who i will never be. And because i will never have it, somehow I want it. And in deeper introspection, i realize that the ideal of being beautiful and rich is not even what i should want in the first place. Its not bad to want to be attractive or to want to be stable financially, but its not what we should want in excess or over anything else. So i am doubly screwed, since i am wanting something i can't have and then seeing that i am wanting something i shouldn't want.

Proverbs 11:28 Whoever trusts in his riches will fall, but the righteous will thrive like a green leaf.

2. Secondly, clothes. Further, hair. In addition, makeup. In a word: beauty. There is another haunting reality i am facing: you know how you go to your closet sometimes and no matter how many possible outfit combinations stare back at you, you cannot figure out WHAT TO WEAR?! This is me, nearly every morning. For some reason, even if i have just washed everything i own or just bought a new tank last week... it takes me so long to figure it out. And then, after way too long figuring out what to put on my body, i have to then tackle the hair. Now, though i get it cut at a very sassy salon by a very hipster hairstylist, my hair never ceases to anger/disatisfy/frustrate me every morning. And i don't even want talk about my face, cause its never enough, there is always an uimperfection here, a zit under there... and the color is too pale, the nose too big. And though i spend the better part of an hour getting ready, i still walk out of my house not quite sure that i look good enough. And for what? Desire? Acceptance? Really, deep down, what is it i am trying to accomplish every morning?

Proverbs 31:30Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

SO, what do these examples have to do with the distance between absence and excess? and shifting a paradigm? Second things first. The paradigm i am trying so hard to change, the way i have lived for so long, is the pattern of thinking that says, somehow, that what i have and what i look like are what define me. Its such a freaking cliche, "all you need is love," "money is the root of all evil," etc etc and i know that, but its so real right now for me.

I feel that this season, this time, is so definitive for me. I feel for the first time since i turned 18, like a real adult and i want to begin my adulthood with healthy thinking, with truth, with a paradigm that i can be proud of, that God could be proud of. I want to be defined by who i am, who i am made to be, not with the things i can earn or do. I don't think i have quite figured it all out yet, how to shift, to shift and not go back. But i am trying real hard. i hope that the image i am made in can be the image i see. That the riches i received for free can be all i need.

And back to the assignment:

The distance between absence and excess is... nothing. Because excess is absence.... it is absent of value, of meaning, absent of anything. And the only absence we need is that of the part of our self which makes us believe we need more than what we have so graciously been given.

in pursuit of illumination

2005-10-18T22:56:00.000-07:00

in pursuit of illumination, one must ignore any sense of their own nature and commit to the diligent task of denying everything they would normally want or do.

in pursuit of what is only light and without any sort of darkness, you become incredibly lonely and afraid at times, realizing that in pursuing light, you are implicity existing in and out of darkness.

What does the light need?

If you ask the most trusted and reliable source of information (google), it will tell you that:

the light needs a source
the light needs polishing
the light needs to be switched on where people issues and attitudes cause organizations to stumble
the light needs a little work

But sometimes light needs to be slowed down so that signals can be routed in the right direction

It would seem that if you pursue illumination too quickly, your speed will extinguish what you are pursuing.

and so i am still.

i guess i will have to listen to them

2005-09-22T23:52:00.000-07:00

i have to write. justin tells me, josh tells me, hannah told me all the time. my mom. dan in his sly way.

but what do i say?

I have to give up on lamenting about the lack of words there are out there in the world and just accept it. And write. More than I do.

Here is something i wrote the other day as part of an exercise at the staff retreat. We each wrote 'missionary letters' as if we were going out into the mission field and were asking for prayer/financial support from people. Mine turned into a blog entry.

MISSION 2005

Santa Cruz Stats:

In 2000, Santa Cruz’s population exceeded 255,000 people, with the racial majority being white. The Latino/Hispanic population is gaining in numbers and expected to rapidly increase in the next 15 years. Thirty four percent of the population is under 24 and 40% is aged 25-44. The religious make up of Santa Cruz is largely “unclaimed”, with an increasing number of alternative faiths each year. UC Santa Cruz has over 14,000 students, with only around 200 actively participating in any sort of on campus Christian organization. With a wide range of industries and occupations, Santa Cruz’s personality is often known as “weird” an eclectic city with an artsy flair and affinity for the unusual and under-appreciated. Highly educated, health-minded and every hippies dream, the city is a unique haven for those wanting to travel off the beaten path.

The roots of “religion” in Santa Cruz

Founded in 1850, Santa Cruz is one of the original cities in California. The mission built in the area preceded California’s statehood in 1850 and was completed in 1794. Before it was even completed, Mission Santa Cruz had already been attacked and partially burned by the Native American tribes in the area, who were reacting to the violent attempts by the missionaries to “convert” the original inhabitants of Santa Cruz. The brutal assassination of one of the original mission priests in 1812 seems to have set the tone for Santa Cruz’s often hostile attitude toward those claiming to be followers of Jesus. Then in 1857, a series of earthquakes ended up destroying the original Mission.

There is nothing left of the original Mission.

A new MISSION:

Despite two large non-denominational churches drawing large numbers of the over-35 crowd, Santa Cruz joins most of America in its declining number of people under 25 being part of any church. People are taking notice, though, and in 1996, Dan Kimball and Josh Fox endeavored to reach this age group with a re-envisioned idea of “church” and Graceland was birthed as a service of SCBC. Eventually, the idea of this service becoming its own church was realized and Vintage Faith Church, a full-fledged church plant, began its own gatherings in early 2004. After almost 2 years, it’s grown beyond a large college-age crowd and into an increasingly dynamic community.
Though at its heart, Vintage Faith Church remains similar theologically to its mother-church, the approach it takes to reaching those in Santa Cruz and beyond is as unique as the area in which is exists. Becoming a “WORSHIPING COMMUNITY OF MISSIONAL THEOLOGIANS” is at its heart, and BEING the church rather than GOING to church has become its hearts cry. As any missionary would study its culture, become familiar with its people and plan to strategically introduce the teachings of Jesus to those who are “unreached,” Vintage Faith Church sees itself as a collection of “missionaries”, essentially, an entire church on a mission. On a mission to change the way Santa Cruz thinks of Christianity. On a mission to be a community that loves others (in and out of the church) the way Jesus did. On a mission to BE JESUS to and in Santa Cruz.

A new Mission.

So, how’s it goin’?

After almost 2 years on staff with Vintage Faith Church, I have been increasingly amazed at how God works, despite our greatest successes and because of our greatest failures. After committing myself to God in the summer of 2000, my faith has never been tested as much as in the last year. And has never grown as much either. As I see it, only part of my “mission” has to do with what VFC has been doing: my personal walk with God, my interactions in family and friendships, and my everyday life are all part of the mission God has me on. But it’s been because of the mission of VFC and the people who help lead it, that I have been able to truly see how connected all of these aspects of my life truly are and how I must continually see my own life, wherever God has me living, working and playing, as a mission for Him.

girl interrupted

2005-09-15T10:57:00.000-07:00

ok, so it is a foggy thursday and i am alone in the office and couldn't be happier. yesterday was one of those days where every 7 minutes a new distraction made me feel like i was slowly losing my mind. today, the silence is soothing me.

As I enjoy my silence, what its killing me is how addicted to comfort i am and how much i hate being interrupted from what is normal. You see, I have been meeting pretty regulalry with "H", a passionate, articulate, intelligent and wonderful woman who is a true spiritual seeker in every sense of the world. She has opened up her life and heart to me in so many ways and i cant believe the place i have in her life, as a confidant, a friend, a fellow dweller of "below the surface" life.

Everytime we hang out, I am overjoyed and refreshed to be with her, but the hours leading up to our meetings, I am filled with a sense of being so uncomfortable, like somehow i can't quite shake the feeling that i am going into an unknown place, an place where its not all easy and familiar. I feel like all my normal, comfortable ways are interrupted from their easy course. Its been like this consistently with her and yet, consistently i have been wrenched out of my expectation of the uncomfortable and by being with her, a new breath has been breathed into me, a new sight, a new view.

Last night was another epic night with H... she confided in me some of her struggles, she expressed her love of learning, she opened up about her confusion in defining her own morality... and it was so easy. I always feel like we could talk for hours and hours and hours.

My favorite parts of the talk were

us expressng our fear of change and the future (its easier to do what you have
always done, because to do something new is unknown and you never know how it
will turn out... thus why we stay in our patterns and don't grow)

exploring the reason its hard to connect with people sometimes (our
theory: many people live on "the surface" or even a gelatonous next layer
somewhere between the surface and the depths... what we prefer is to swim around
in the depths below the surface, to explore the unknown, to ask questions, to
keep seeing new things, to keep learning and growing)

the role of the
body and the mind (just because our bodies want things doesn't mean they are
right... we CAN discipline our bodies and we must, or we will only act on
instinct and impulse)

...and even the mutual addiction to the
comfortable (we all want what's immediately most comfortable to us, and we
default back to what we know is comfy, even if in our mind we know its not
right)

Epic nights like last night with H are another confirmation of how deeply i must cherish my friends. You dont meet people like H often and you don't have connections like this everyday.

The connection with H interrupts me and conjurs some phantom loss of comfort, but i love being a girl, interuppted for such a friendship as this.

i am trying...

2005-09-06T17:27:00.000-07:00

i am trying all my best to make it up to you for such inconsistency in my writing... you see, i am quite verbose, quite unable to make sense of everything and fit it so neatly into a box on a blog. Why is the lemon jelly man so good at it?

I have had quite a month: grieving all the goodbyes, joyous welcomes to friends from afar (yeah guests from the UK!!), tragedies which God somehow so quickly redeems.

I will tell you this much... i can't tell you enough.

An interesting mix of things i have been learning.

1. How to say Goodbye well: I think a lot has to do with recognizing what the person has been in your life and reminding them of exactly what they mean to you... long letters usually do it for me. Throwing parties is good, with a love chair where the honored person sits in a chair and everyone in the room goes around and says how much they love/appreciate/cherish/admire/respect the sitter of the love chair. that one is a winner when it comes to making someone feel special.

2. Just when you think you can't take much more, you get more... and you know, you can survive it. Its weird, i don't get it, but its true

3. A little time each day goes a long way... I have spent the last week spending a little time each night before bed reading Oswald and writing out prayers and an undeniable peace arises in me the next morning knowing that i have set aside time to just stop. I hate the quiet time cliche, but its really real to me right now.

4. Everyone can be an amazing photographer, and its all because of the digital camera revolution. Bethany said that, so I take no credit. See above picture :)

5. Seeing Coldplay twice in one week makes you hungry to hang out on Camden Rd in London and get to know the guys a bit more. I really want to just pick Chris Martin's brain, not because he is hot or talented or famous, but because he seems so genuine and thats what i think we all want in a friend.

6. Confrontation should not be an easy or a fun thing... if it is, your heart is not in the right place. You should feel uncomfortable doing it, because you should care about the person you are confronting enough to know that it will be hard for them to hear what you are saying. Perhaps in empathy, healing comes more readily.

7. San Francisco is farther away than you would think.

8. No matter how much i try, i become more and more uneasy in the "world"... not because i am becoming "of" it, but because my heart still remembers what it is like being "of" and then it just aches when it is "in" and still doesn't know how to balance it all out.

9. WHAT, I HOPE IT WASN'T ON MY COAT... its so funny in so many ways and situations and its the best that only Ames and Jus know what i mean.

10. i love good bands and i love good drives and i love good kisses... i won't lie.

more soon, i promise