Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I wish you could see...

I spent most of the afternoon working on an art/scrapbook/collage project that materialized in my head yesterday. It is a visual representation of the idea of beauty in the ashes that I have been so caught by this week. And there is a phoenix rising out of the flames. I'm really pleased with how it turned out. Especially since writing is usually my medium, and I rarely branch out into artistic stuff. I wish you could all see it. But, it's multi-dimensional and 12x12 so it won't really scan very well.

So, if you live in town, call me, or email me, or just come over and see it. (Or maybe I'll bring it with me to church on Sunday night.) If you're out of town, you're out of luck, unless you want to come visit me?

Things and People I Like

I've updated my links. Here are some of the hi-lights!

  • Kari's Blog - a friend of mine - I quoted from her yesterday.
  • Hope's Blog - I've been loving reading about Hope's journey - since I check it almost every day I thought you might like it too!
  • Cameron Conant - I quoted him today. Always quite insightful.
  • Kirk's Blog - Kirk preached at our church on Sunday night. I've been loving reading his thoughts over the last while, and have often been challenged by them.
  • YS Marko - a youth ministry blog - which is funny, 'cause I'm not in youth ministry exactly, or even close to it really. But I do like the things he has to say, there is often funny stuff to read or comment on, and he tends to review some good books - which I have then read and enjoyed. It was also Marko's newest tattoo that refreshed the idea of the phoenix in my brain, and allowed for God to take the image and use it powerfully for me this week.

I think that's all I've added for now - there are a few more changes coming, but what's on that sidebar is now most of the blogs I read on a daily or semi-daily basis. I love the blogging world. Since my thoughts are so shaped by writing personally, I love that blogging lets me interact with like-minded (or not so like-minded) people all over the world, or even just here at home. Reading someone's writing adds a new dimension to knowing that person, and can provide a great jumping off point to start a conversation. Plus, I tend to be fairly introverted by nature - not shy necessarily, but not likely to initiate a lot of conversations. But, hey, if you know me - come up to me an invite me to chat. Or drop me an email at the address which I will add to my profile as soon as I post this. I'd love to engage, I'm just not so hot at initiating that engagement!

Darkness and Light

I've been reading a blog written by a guy named Cameron Conant for a while now. He often has insightful things to say. You can find it here, and it will be added to my sidebar soon too.

Earlier this week he posted this quote, which caught my attention:

"To embrace weakness, liability, and darkness as part of who I am gives that part less sway over me, because all it ever wanted was to be acknowledged as part of my whole self."
--Parker Palmer, "Let Your Life Speak"

Yes! So many people I know, so many Christians I know just won't embrace that part of themselves or that part of others. I was talking with a friend last night - a friend whose calling and profession in life is also to serve the broken. Together, we were observing how few people were really willing to acknowledge the messiness or brokenness of life - of their life or of others lives. I know of a number of people who consistently interact with the homeless of Calgary - they feed them a meal, maybe give them some clothes, chat with them for the hour or two that they're on the streets each week, even occasionally buy them a bus ticket or invite them to church, but these same people have demonstrated a complete inability or willingness to acknowledge and walk through the ashes in the lives of a number of people I know within the church. When messiness is confined to the short interaction on the streets of the city it is okay. It is not okay when it begins to infringe into their homes, their conversations, their daily lives.

And yet, I cannot live anymore in a way that denies the realities of my life and of those around me. I feel I must speak up - and it scares me terribly. I am afraid of hurting people that I care for deeply. I am afraid that by speaking out - by challenging people on this issue - I will find myself alone and wandering, rejected by the church for carrying a message so many within it's walls don't seem to want to hear. But I have met Jesus in the ashes. And it has been brought home to me in such a powerful way this week.

I was sharing the image of the phoenix with my friend last night. The image of something beautiful, powerful, stately emerging from the ashes. Beauty birthed from destruction. She talked about grass - she had watched a patch of grass that had been burnt in a grass fire in a local park last summer. As the burnt area began to be covered with grass again, it was much greener than the unburnt areas around it. I like that image as well - strength and vitality and beauty coming where there had been only destruction.

I am so grateful that when God began to call me to this place of serving the broken, of caring deeply, of allowing my emotions to be affected by the suffering of these people, He did not ask me to walk alone. I have been blessed innumberably by friendships that I never expected - people who have been around my church for years, even someone within my homechurch who I had never connected with - people who share this heart for the broken. I am so grateful for these people who assure me on a weekly basis that I have not gone insane to give my heart to this thing that God has lead me into. People who understand the need to pray protection over each others' lives as we walk through the pits of evil at times. People who know how much a hug or a smile can mean in a week that has been marked by the realities of evil. To those of you who have been walking through this journey with me over the last while, I really, really want to say thank you. You've been bright spots - expressions of beauty amidst ashes.