wordless

This week has been one of those ones again where the words just aren't there. Where the parts of me that are sometimes alive and bubbling over with creativity have been silent. Where the part of my soul that immediately begins the mental writing process whenever something the least bit intriguing catches my eye, has stubbornly refused to kick into gear.

I am still thinking about rescue. About a piece of a verse in Daniel chapter 3 that says "There is no other God who can rescue like this." I wrote a personal essay in my journal about this verse on the weekend, and if I ever get around to typing and revising it, it might appear here. I feel like rescue and healing (and sometimes, to be honest, they're synonymous in my head) are things that I am crying out to Jesus so desperately for over various things and situations. Sometimes that desperation for rescue and healing in my own life and in the lives of friends spills into my conversations, and that has created one or two intense and occasionally awkward moments this week.

I am thinking that sometimes I'm far too practical for my own good. That the things I think about are far too grounded in reality. A few months ago someone was describing his personality a bit to me, as a precursor to answering a question I'd asked him. He told me that he was going to answer from his head, and that if I asked a different friend, the answer would be totally different. In the course of describing that to me, he said, "I'm not a mystic like you and so and so and so and so," naming a few other friends. I didn't really respond - no one had called me a mystic before - but all I was thinking was, "I live in my head WAY too much of the time to ever have the term 'mystic' accurately applied to me."

In the spirit of that practicality, I really appreciated this blog post that I came across late last week. I found myself greatly encouraged by the author's practicality, and by her take on the question Mary asked, "How will this be, since I'm a virgin?"

And with that, I'm going to take the very practical step of washing dishes, and then maybe lying in a hot bath for a while.

I'm tired. I've had my lights out by 11pm two nights in a row this week, and I think tonight may well be the third. I can't remember the last time that happened. Now, if I could just manage to sleep deeply and without dreams.

Later!

Seeing God for Others - Henri Nouwen

Seeing God for Others

The experience of the fullness of time, during which God is so present, so real, so tangibly near that we can hardly believe that everyone does not see God as we do, is given to us to deepen our lives of prayer and strengthen our lives of ministry. Having experienced God in the fullness of time, we have a lifelong desire to be with God and to proclaim to others the God we experienced.

Peter, years after the death of Jesus, claims his Mount Tabor experience as the source for his witness. He says: "When we told you about the power and the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, we were not slavishly repeating cleverly invented myths; no, we had seen his majesty with our own eyes ... when we were with him on the holy mountain" (2 Peter 1:16-18). Seeing God in the most intimate moments of our lives is seeing God for others.