Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Random Items in a Bag

I finished work at noon today, and headed for my parents house. I had a pre-established appointment for a massage.

My mom is always sending things home with me when I leave their house, and today the assortment is amusingly random. I came home with a grocery bag filled with:

  • one set of pajamas. a birthday gift that I purchased that needs to be returned.
  • one of my plates, left at their house over Christmas.
  • my mail (mostly bills)
  • a little bag from a local bakery, containing one apple cinnamon sticky bun.
  • a bag of croutons for salad that were given to my mom but she didn't want.
  • a package of dried mango - again, something given to mom that she didn't particularly need and knew I loved.
  • and a partially drunk bottle of red-wine that I'm to drink what I want from tonight/tomorrow and then return the remainder to be consumed at their house.

new year coming

I was up most of the night.

Talking with a friend.

Praying.

Crying.

Some combination of all three at times.

This morning my heart hurts.

I am angry.

And exhausted.

I'm done.

With so many of the things that have marked this crazy year.

I am letting my heart look back, and remembering the many, many oh so broken, bittersweet, beautiful moments.

I am writing. One last ditch effort to give voice to my heart. Words that may or may not ever make it out of my journal or my draft email folder, but words I need to record anyway.

There's a new year coming. And I pray, that in the last hours of this present one, many things will draw to a close.

It's time.

To rise and walk.

To heal.

To let go.

To be free.

For all of this to draw to a close, that new life may again begin to sprout.

If 2008 was "a time for tearing down" then I pray that 2009 will be a "time for rebuilding" a "time for healing."

God's Imagination - Henri Nouwen

God's Imagination

So much of our energy, time, and money goes into maintaining distance from one another. Many if not most of the resources of the world are used to defend ourselves against each other, to maintain or increase our power, and to safeguard our own privileged position.

Imagine all that effort being put in the service of peace and reconciliation! Would there be any poverty? Would there be crimes and wars? Just imagine that there was no longer fear among people, no longer any rivalry, hostility, bitterness, or revenge. Just imagine all the people on this planet holding hands and forming one large circle of love. We say, "I can't imagine." But God says, "That's what I imagine, a whole world not only created but also living in my image."

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Headlines

Christmas Massacres Killed 400

Migrants Rescued Off Malta Coast

India as a source of priests

I found this article in the International Herald Tribune absolutely fascinating, and full of many thought provoking issues - particularly the comments about a priest in India having a much broader and more fulfilling role than a priest in North America.

India may dry up as a Source of Extra Catholic Priests

Letting Go of Old Hurts

Another challenging thought from Henri Nouwen...

Letting Go of Old Hurts

One of the hardest things in life is to let go of old hurts. We often say, or at least think: "What you did to me and my family, my ancestors, or my friends I cannot forget or forgive. ... One day you will have to pay for it." Sometimes our memories are decades, even centuries, old and keep asking for revenge.

Holding people's faults against them often creates an impenetrable wall. But listen to Paul: "For anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation: the old order is gone and a new being is there to see. It is all God's work" (2 Corinthians 5:17-18). Indeed, we cannot let go of old hurts, but God can. Paul says: "God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not holding anyone's fault against them" (2 Corinthians 5:19). It is God's work, but we are God's ministers, because the God who reconciled the world to God entrusted to us "the message of reconciliation" (2 Corinthians 5:19). This message calls us to let go of old hurts in the Name of God. It is the message our world most needs to hear.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Rise up and walk

Acts 3:1-11 (NLT)

Peter Heals a Crippled Beggar
Peter and John went to the Temple one afternoon to take part in the three o’clock prayer service. 2 As they approached the Temple, a man lame from birth was being carried in. Each day he was put beside the Temple gate, the one called the Beautiful Gate, so he could beg from the people going into the Temple. 3 When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for some money.

4 Peter and John looked at him intently, and Peter said, “Look at us!” 5 The lame man looked at them eagerly, expecting some money. 6 But Peter said, “I don’t have any silver or gold for you. But I’ll give you what I have. In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene,[a] get up and[b] walk!”

7 Then Peter took the lame man by the right hand and helped him up. And as he did, the man’s feet and ankles were instantly healed and strengthened. 8 He jumped up, stood on his feet, and began to walk! Then, walking, leaping, and praising God, he went into the Temple with them.

9 All the people saw him walking and heard him praising God. 10 When they realized he was the lame beggar they had seen so often at the Beautiful Gate, they were absolutely astounded! 11 They all rushed out in amazement to Solomon’s Colonnade, where the man was holding tightly to Peter and John.

~~~

It's time. Rise up and walk. Be free. Walk, leap, and praise God. This is my prayer for myself first, but also for so many that I love tonight.

Headlines - Post Christmas Edition

I've been mostly living in a "cave" the last several days, away from the city, and not following the news. So I took some time this morning to catch up on headlines and articles from around the world. The following is a sampling of what caught my attention today and moved my heart to prayer:

Wolf Captured Near Tourist Portion of Great Wall

Child Maid Trafficking Spreads From Africa to US

Israel Bombs Gaza in "All Out War"

Pope Laments Global Instability

Children Killed in Afghan Attack (some Canadian soldiers were also killed)

Tear Gas Kills 5 in Peru Club

Peru Christmas Baby Named Jesus

Aceh's Victims of Nature and War

Israel Stikes Key Hamas Offices

A Year After Bhutto: Tears and Troop Movements

Ugandan LRA in "church massacre"

Israel Pounds Hamas Targets in Third Day of Offensive

And, just because any article with the line "When Canadians start acting crazy, America should fit itself for a giant straitjacket." makes me smile, The Year of Living Stupidly

It's good to have people like that...

Early last week I spent a particularly fantastic evening catching up with a friend who I hadn't seen in some months. Time with Faye is always great - filled with laughter and fantastic stories, and things that are completely and totally random and amusing.

We cooked dinner together with one of her roomates, sipped tea, and ate reclining on cushions around a coffee table, since they don't have a formal dining table yet. We talked for hours about all the happenings of our lives. About the weirdness that so often defines our experiences of life. About the way God seems to employ a somewhat twisted sense of humor as a means of direction and communication in our lives.

I was talking on the phone last night with another dear friend, and recounting bits and pieces of my conversation with Faye to her. I summed it up this way, "Faye is one of the few people left in Calgary with whom I can be totally honest about God and life and my experiences of both, and she doesn't think I'm strange, or wonder (at least too much!) about my sanity." My friend responded, "It's good to have people like that." (the friend I was speaking with on the phone, by the way is also one of those people - though living at a greater distance.)

I was re-reading Faye's latest blog post again this morning, and was struck again by how much I love her heart, and her openness to let God direct her steps and days. You can read about her adventures as a part-time nanny and with evangelism here. I only wish you could hear the love and passion in her voice when she tells these stories to you in person.

Henri on Reconciliation

Two thoughts from Henri that arrived in my inbox over the holidays:

The Task of Reconciliation

What is our task in this world as children of God and brothers and sisters of Jesus? Our task is reconciliation. Wherever we go we see divisions among people - in families, communities, cities, countries, and continents. All these divisions are tragic reflections of our separation from God. The truth that all people belong together as members of one family under God is seldom visible. Our sacred task is to reveal that truth in the reality of everyday life.

Why is that our task? Because God sent Christ to reconcile us with God and to give us the task of reconciling people with one another. As people reconcile with God through Christ we have been given the ministry of reconciliation" (see: 2 Corinthians 5:18). So whatever we do the main question is, Does it lead to reconciliation among people?

A Ministry that Never Ends

Reconciliation is much more than a one-time event by which a conflict is resolved and peace established. A ministry of reconciliation goes far beyond problem solving, mediation, and peace agreements. There is not a moment in our lives without the need for reconciliation. When we dare to look at the myriad hostile feelings and thoughts in our hearts and minds, we will immediately recognize the many little and big wars in which we take part. Our enemy can be a parent, a child, a "friendly" neighbor, people with different lifestyles, people who do not think as we think, speak as we speak, or act as we act. They all can become "them." Right there is where reconciliation is needed.

Reconciliation touches the most hidden parts of our souls. God gave reconciliation to us as a ministry that never ends.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Heading Out

I'm heading out of town for a couple days, to see some dear friends.

Here are the things I need to do before I can leave:
  • shower
  • pack
  • grocery store
  • take all my knives to mom and dad's house (he's doing some sharpening today, and mine could use it badly)
  • load some scripture onto my ipod
  • eat breakfast
  • buy a cup of tea at starbucks
I may or may not blog while I'm away, so Happy Boxing Day (for those who celebrate it and get the day off) and see you soon!

Thursday, December 25, 2008

And so this is Christmas...

And so this is Christmas.

Christmas, as an adult I'm discovering, is marked with changes.

Last night, for the first time in my life, I didn't attend church with my family (when there was an option to do so) on Christmas Eve. I attended a separate service, earlier in the afternoon, by myself, and it was a good thing. I suppose I could have also attended the evening service at the church I grew up in, the church which all of my immediate (and most of my extended) family still attends. But I didn't. I don't know why I didn't. Maybe it was a way of simply being myself. Maybe it was a little bit of petty rebellion against expectations of family and the people dad pastors. Maybe a little bit of resentment at something I always hated as a child - Christmas Eve was one of the few times in the year when just my siblings and parents and I were deliberately together, when we set aside everything else and enjoyed each others company, and I always hated the years when the church declared a need for a Christmas Eve service, because it cut into family time on a night filled with my favorite traditions. I suppose it was some combination of exerting self-identity, rebellion and resentment that kept me home.

And when I came home, I quietly and prayerfully lit the advent wreath on my dresser. The one I've lit through this whole season. And I celebrated in my own quiet way the coming of the light.

For the first time in my life, we didn't spend Christmas Eve revisiting the story of our family either. Each of the three of us siblings have an ornament that marks a significant event from each year in our life. A large portion of these ornaments are hand-carved by dad. On Christmas Eve the boxes of those ornaments would come out, and Dad would tell the story of our family as each of us hung them on the tree one by one. 20 plus years of love and laughter and struggles were rehashed as we added to the more "traditional" decorations already on the tree. Last year my parents informed us that it was the last year we were going to hang ornaments and tell the story. They stopped providing the ornament for us when we turned 21, so for several years I'd already been purchasing my own, but I loved the story telling, and the laughter.

Earlier this month I picked up my box of ornaments from my parent's house. It was a hard box to open this year, filled with so many memories and milestones. I eventually opened it in the company of one of my roommates, telling my own version of the story as I hung 26 years of ornament memories on the tree in our living room. But I missed hanging them together on my parents tree last night.

(And, last night mom hinted that next year, she was thinking of scrapping the our traditional feast of hor'deourves for a more traditional dinner. My only response was "Why???")

And so, this morning I'm laying here curled up in bed. Soon I'll get up and wrap the last few presents. I'll read a little from scripture, and send an email or two to those friends who are really family, and are far away this Christmas.

Eventually I'll head for my parents house in time for the traditional hashbrown breakfast that dad makes. (You really haven't lived until you've eaten my dad's hashbrowns - an all in one dish with sausage and cheese and veggies and potatoes and spices and just general goodness). This year, we're eating breakfast before presents. That's unusual, though it was the source of much laughing debate when my parents announced this intention to us last night. One of my brothers insisted that this is the way we've always done it. (He's wrong, by the way.) Essentially, now that we're adults, and want to stay in bed past 7am on Christmas, if we ate breakfast after presents, it became lunch. Since the extended family dinner is at 4:30, that was two large meals close together. So we'll eat breakfast first - it makes sense after all, and we're no longer the little children whose patience for presents could not have been contained through a meal.

Christmas, as an adult, I think, is what you make of it. There's not the chaotic wonder and impatience and delight at presents that there was as a child. Traditions change. The family expands or contracts depending on the year. This year I find myself longing not so much for the family of my blood (though I'll love spending time with them) but the family of my heart (spread out across the country and much missed and loved). I'm hoping to speak with some of them in the next few days as well.

And so this is Christmas: That Jesus Christ, took on flesh and lived among us. That he lived and suffered and died and was resurrected. That he offers us the chance to choose life, a life more abundantly lived.

Merry Christmas everyone! May the peace and light of Christ fill your lives this day and in the coming year.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Again at prayer...

My heart is as prayer again.

This morning I am praying:
  • for an encircling, a drawing together
  • for healing and restoration
  • for roses along paths
  • for some I love very deeply
  • and some I know only in passing
  • for conversations that must happen
  • and for all the things the have gone unsaid, through fear, or through necessity
  • and for courage to speak the things that are as yet unsaid but must be given voice
  • for a diminishing of greed and jealousy
  • for those who have been heavy on my mind and heart these last days and weeks
  • while remembering "his body broken, his blood shed"
  • with thankfulness for a friend with whom I spent last evening, laughing, talking, eating, communing
  • for a tearing down of idols (idol worship is about self harm)
  • for restored dreams
  • for travels that are not yet fully possibilities, but that God is calling some to
  • for health and strength
  • for daily bread
  • for just enough light for one more step (another step deeper into darkness, closer to the light)
  • for birthing
  • for empty arms to be filled
  • and empty hearts to be held
  • while thinking about some lyrics from two Ben Harper songs (Roses from a Friend, and Blessed to be a Witness)
  • for two little girls in Winnipeg who touched my heart deeply (and their family, who also entered my heart)
  • for two friends recently engaged
  • for the closing of the gap
  • for the lonely to be set in families
  • for all those who bear the marks of Christ on their lives
  • for healing and wholeness
  • for joy amidst suffering
  • while remembering Francis and Claire and Lazarus and Rose of Lima and all the others that have impacted this year
  • for peace
  • and hope
  • for the coming of the light.

Advent is nearly at a close. The light is coming. Amen, come Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us.

Headlines

A Quarrelsome lot these Christians

British Tourist Unearths Treasure

Pope to Visit Holy Land in May

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Mid-day again

It'll be another hour before I get my lunch break. That's just what happens when people are out of the office and the routine is different. It's no big deal, just a little annoyance in the midst of my day.

A busy day.

A casual day. There's something about wearing jeans that makes even my less than stellar work situation just a tiny bit more bearable.

I'll be so glad when tomorrow at noon arrives. Four days in a row off of work will be a beautiful thing.

Family. Food. Friends.

hopefully rest.

Sleep has been an interesting endeavour lately. More so in the two nights I've been staying alone. Not frightening the way I thought it might be, just... active. It's the only word I can think of. That, and fleeting. Hopefully that doesn't keep up for the entire two weeks they're away. I'm not sure my body would cope with that very well.

I'm still wearing a white scarf everywhere I go. Still praying. Still wondering. Still waiting. Still longing. Still dreaming. I think I'm glad that the scarf that is somewhat of a sacramental object. The scarf endowed with so many memories and reminders of the nearness of Jesus is white. If I'm going to have days on end where I need it within easy reach, at least it's a nice neutral color that goes with everything.

And with that, I'm off to fill in an expense report for my boss. And sort through a stack of mail that looks tedious and time consuming. Half a day today. Half a day tomorrow. And then a break. A much needed break.

3 Thoughts from Henri Nouwen

3 more thoughts from Henri Nouwen that have arrived in my email inbox recently.

An Experience Offered to All

Some people say: "I never had an experience of the fullness of time. ... I am just an ordinary person, not a mystic." Although some people have unique experiences of God's presence and, therefore have unique missions to announce God's presence to the world, all of us - whether learned or uneducated, rich or poor, visible or hidden - can receive the grace of seeing God in the fullness of time. This mystical experience, is not reserved for a few exceptional people. God wants to offer that gift in one way or another to all God's children.

But we must desire it. We must be attentive and interiorly alert. For some people the experience of the fullness of time comes in a spectacular way, as it did to St. Paul when he fell to the ground on his way to Damascus (Acts 9:3-4). But for some of us it comes like a murmuring sound or a gentle breeze touching our backs (1 Kings 19:13). God loves us all and wants us all to know this in a most personal way.

Light in the Darkness

We walk in a "ravine as dark as death" (Psalm 23:4), and still we have nothing to fear because God is at our side: God's staff and crook are there to soothe us (see Psalm 23:4). This is not just a consoling idea. It is an experience of the heart that we can trust.

Our lives are full of suffering, pain, disillusions, losses and grief, but they are also marked by visions of the coming of the Son of Man "like lightning striking in the east and flashing far into west" (Matthew 24:27). These moments in which we see clearly, hear loudly, and feel deeply that God is with us on the journey make us shine as a light into the darkness. Jesus says, "You are the light of the world. Your light must shine in people's sight, so that, seeing your good works, they may give praise to your Father in heaven" (Matthew 5:14-16).

The Heart of Jesus

Jesus is the vulnerable child, the humble preacher, the despised, rejected, and crucified Christ. But Jesus also is "the image of the unseen God, the first-born of all creation, ... [who] exists before all things and in him all things hold together" (Colossians 1:15,17). Jesus is the King, ridiculed on the cross and reigning from his throne in the heavenly Jerusalem. He is the Lord riding into the city on a donkey, and the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. He is cursed by the world but blessed by God.

Let's always look at Jesus, because in his crucified and glorified heart we will see ourselves called to share in his suffering as well as in his glory.

Monday, December 22, 2008

A Few Headlines

Tea Time - loved this one because I am a frequent (and perhaps slightly snobby!) drinker of tea.

Swann in Tough to Win Alberta - I have been following this story with interest. I heard Dr. Swann speak briefly at an event on genocide that I attended last year and was very impressed with his commitment to various social justice issues. With him at the helm, I could possibly be persuaded to vote for the Alberta Liberal Party.

Winter (Be not afraid...)

It snowed.

About 2 inches.

Again.

I can't remember the last time there was this much snow in Calgary.

We've been having wild winter weather since December 7th.

I can't tell you how much that absolutely delights me as someone who never did like winter in the first place.

There are wind-chill warnings again today. For those of you who are uninitiated into the pleasures of a Canadian winter, that means that when it is already -22 degrees celcius, to human skin, thanks to the wind, it actually feels like -35 degrees celcius.

I had quite a few long conversations with God about this winter. I told him firmly, in no uncertain terms, that I was unlikely to survive a cold and harsh winter. That last winter nearly did me in, and if we could skip past the bad weather this year, I'd be grateful. It was looking good. He kept telling me in little ways "be not afraid of winter." The weather was unseasonably warm. And then, on December 7th, the skies opened up, and I realized that "be not afraid of winter" might not mean what I thought it meant.

So, it's been two weeks of terrible road conditions and two hour commutes home from work. Two weeks of numb fingers, and checking toes for frostbite at the end of the day. Two weeks of brushing snow off my car every time I need to drive it, and never leaving the house without at least two layers of clothing covering every part of my body.

To be fair, this is mostly tongue in cheek. I didn't at all expect God to send a "nice" winter just because I don't like the cold. (But it sure would have been nice if he had!)

But, in the interest of honesty, I have lived here my whole life, and I don't think I'll ever get used to this kind of weather. Winter is just not my style. And, since my internal life seems to so closely mirror the seasons, I'm never a fan of a long period of cold and darkness.

So, I guess I go back to that reminder the Lord spoke. "Be not afraid of winter." I needed to hear that this year. Last winter was long, in so many, many ways. Long and dark and painful, and I wondered whether or not I'd really survive another season like that.

"Be not afraid of winter." I'm working to trust in those words.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

My Heart Has Heard

My heart has heard you say, "Come and talk with me."
And my heart responds, "Lord, I am coming."
(Psalm 27:8)

Sacraments (Banana Bread and Cleaning)

Sacrament: something regarded as possessing a sacred character or mysterious significance.

I've been thinking about sacraments this afternoon. Those things that, for whatever reason, have some sacred significance.

The big ones - the Lord's supper, baptism etc.

But mostly about all the little ones that are purely individual, are almost quirks of nature.

I was thinking about them, because as I engaged in a couple of acts this afternoon, I realized that they are things that have in many ways, over the course of this last year, become deeply sacramental in my life. They are things that have become prayers, that as I do them, seem endowed with a deeper significance.

Baking banana bread. I started baking banana bread on a regular basis sometime around Easter. I was engaged in a fast of chocolate and sweets that lasted for several months, and banana bread was a healthy alternative snack and breakfast item. When I started baking it, it was a constant reminder to pray, because it was only necessary to be baked due to the fast. That fast and several others have come and gone, and somewhere along the way, baking banana bread and praying have become a part of my routine. A part of my daily life, but somehow endowed with deeper significance. It once took me nearly 2 hours to mix up a batch, because I was talking online about some of the deeper relational struggles that have marked this year with a dear friend, and praying as we talked and I baked. I thought about that this afternoon, as I mixed up another batch, filled loaf pans, and put them in the oven. I thought about it as the scent of the baking bread filled my house. And I prayed again for many of those same things - for the things that led me to fast and bake banana bread in the first place and the things that remain heavy on my heart today.

Cleaning. Cleaning is perhaps an odd thing to be endowed with sacredness, and yet, for me, it often is. I'm sitting here just now, enjoying the fruits of an afternoon of labor. Both of my roommates have now left the country for the holidays, and it is only me in our home for the next two weeks. I'll enjoy this, but it also concerns me in some ways - sleep has been a challenge again of late, and there is added security in knowing that if it is really bad, there is a friend down the hall whom I can wake and ask to pray with me.

I discovered long ago that when my heart and mind became too cluttered or afraid, and I became immobilized, I would bring order to my physical space, which had often become a cluttered reflection of my state of mind and heart. For years now, I've been cleaning as a sort of wordless prayer for restoration. This past year, that has intensified greatly, and I've prayed with and without words as I've cleaned.

And so, today, as I face two weeks of quiet in the house, but also the added fear of being alone, I spent the afternoon cleaning, praying as I did through the rooms I tidied and restored order too. Working my way through laundry, and our kitchen. Through sweeping and vaccuming. (And I'll clean the bathroom later still.)

And so, I'm sitting here, at a kitchen table that is clear (save for my laptop) for the first time in months, staring out the sliding doors at the fading daylight on this shortest day of the year and the snow drifts on our deck that I know (from experience this afternoon while taking out the garbage) are knee deep, smelling the banana bread I removed from the oven, and thinking about sacraments, and wondering again, at how the most simple and common things of life can be endowed with deep meaning, can become sacraments unexpectedly.

May those things in my life ever multiply.

White Scarf Kind of Day (Peace)

Today I'm praying:
  • for the mother of one of my former youth students. She collapsed outside her home two days ago in the severe winter temperatures and wasn't found for quite some time. She's in a coma in a local hospital.
  • for her two sons - one of whom is one of my former youth students.
  • for a family I love.
  • for dear friends scattered around the country.
  • for the ability to surrender and be at peace.
  • a line from Joan of Arcadia, where God is speaking to her, "Here's the thing you need to learn from the martyrs, Joan, they did it the hard way. That's what I'm asking of you."
  • for health and strength restored.
  • for freedom from the dark places.
  • for willingness to walk voluntarily in the dark places as necessary - but to walk free instead of bound.
  • for warmth - Be not afraid of winter - Seasons change. God never does.
  • for safety in travels.
  • for wisdom to move forward.
  • for growing joy.
  • for the coming of the light.
  • with lit candles, and a favorite white scarf wrapped around my neck.
  • with all the little reminders of place and people and hearts.
  • for the things that seem in perpetual limbo
  • and for the relationships that are so unclear.
  • for the ability to deeply forgive.
  • for the change of spaces necessary to be at peace.
It's the fourth Sunday in advent - Peace. Later I'll pause and light the advent wreath in my bedroom. I'll light it and pray again for the ruling peace of Christ.

But sometimes, I wonder, if peace is not something that we don't expect.

I'm thinking a lot about Mary this year. The mother of Christ. I read a cycle of poems about her life by Ranier Maria Rilke yesterday. Just a short little book, but beautiful.

And I wonder if peace isn't the thing that came with some combination of "You are highly favored, the Lord is with you," and "Mary treasured all these things and stored them in her heart," and "As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul."

Maybe peace comes even there, especially there, in the moments when the things most treasured within us have been pierced and bleed.

Come, Lord of Peace, today. Bring light.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Visitation of the Virgin

I was reading Ranier Maria Rilke's book of poems, "The Life of the Virgin Mary" this afternoon, and found this poem about Mary's visit to Elizabeth to be rather profoundly beautiful.

Visitation of the Virgin

She still walked easily in the beginning.
Yet already was sometimes aware when climbing
of her marvelous body's life within.
And then, pausing for breath, she stood upon

the high hills of Judea. But spread wide
around her, was her fullness, not the land.
Walking, she felt: no one would overstride
the greatness which she now could understand.

And the need pressed on her not to lay her hand
on the other body, which had gone on further.
And the women leaned to one another, and
they touched each other on the dress and hair.

Each one, filled with her own sacred good
used the other as shield in her plight.
Ah, the saviour in her still was bud,
but in her cousin's womb, the Baptist could,
and did, leap in rapture of delight.

Within Arm's Reach

  • 1 litre bottle of water
  • the first season of Joan of Arcadia on dvd.
  • "Take This Bread" by Sara Miles
  • 4 issues of "Memory Makers" magazine
  • 2 issues of "Creating Keepsakes" magazine
  • 3 issues of "Real Simple" magazine
  • "Visions of Christ: A Posthumous Cycle of Poems" by Ranier Maria Rilke
  • "Things I Overheard While Talking to Myself" by Alan Alda (which, by the way, has got to be one of the best book titles I've seen in a while. the title itself made me pick it up at the library this morning. it's just a happy coincidence that I'm also a huge fan of M*A*S*H*, and will enjoy reading Alan Alda's memoir.)
  • "The Life of the Virgin Mary" by Ranier Maria Rilke
  • "Bless the Space Between Us" by John O'Donohue
  • "The Soul Tells a Story" by Vinita Hampton Wright
  • "50 Ways to Pray: Practices from Many Traditions and Times" by Teresa A. Blythe
  • A mandarin orange
  • my bible and journal
  • 2 journal pens and one pen for underlining in my Bible
  • "Tickets for a Prayer Wheel" by Annie Dillard
  • "Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God" by Ranier Maria Rilke
  • "A Life of Miracles: a 365 Day Guide to Prayer and Miracles" by Bill Johnson
  • "Living Prayer" by Robert Benson.

Can you tell that I'm curled up and settling in for a quiet afternoon? And that I was at the library this morning? There are lit candles all around my bedroom, trying to cut the drafty nature of a bedroom at the back of the house with two outside walls. And, if you know any of these books that I listed, you'll know that I'm mostly curling up with poetry.

But, for the moment, I'm going to flip through some magazines while I watch an episode or two of Joan of Arcadia.

Friday, December 19, 2008

21

My baby brother turned 21 today. (do you suppose at some point I'll have to realize that he's close to a foot taller than me, and very much a man, and stop calling him my "baby" brother?)

He and I are pretty close, and this week we've had a lot of fun together. He's recently become one half of a couple, and needed my help to pull off a plan for a special date for his girlfriend this week. So we spent a very enjoyable evening together.

Tonight, to celebrate 21 years of his life (and our mom's birthday tomorrow) the five of us gathered for Chinese take-out at my parent's house. Then our middle brother and I took T. out to a pub, where we were joined by a couple friends, and spent the evening laughing and talking.

It was a good evening.

Happy Birthday T!

Giving Up vs. Gaining

Anyone who knows me well will know that I am not a fan of change. Anyone who knows me well will also know that this has made the last few years quite a challenge, since they've been marked with nearly constant change and transition.

I was listening to an interview this morning with a pair of Christian authors. Their names escape me, as does the title of their book, but they were talking about living a life you're truly passionate about, and how fear and especially fear of change affects that. What struck me was this comment, "The first thing most people think about when they think about change is what they're going to have to give up, not what they're going to gain."

That line hit home. It's definitely my tendency. Even in the changes I know God is in. Even in the short term ones. My tendency is to think about how much I miss the way things "used to be" rather than to celebrate the new and beautiful things forming in my life.

It'll be a challenge to switch my thinking, but perhaps it's worth the attempt? I think it might fit nicely into the "choose life" theme that I've been working to live, and talking about often with a dear friend.

What have I gained? A question that will require some pondering today.

From Henri

It's been a while since I posted any tidbits from Henri Nouwen, but here are a few that have arrived in my inbox recently:

The Fullness of time

Jesus came in the fullness of time. He will come again in the fullness of time. Wherever Jesus, the Christ, is the time is brought to its fullness.

We often experience our time as empty. We hope that tomorrow, next week, next month or next year the real things will happen. But sometimes we experience the fullness of time. That is when it seems that time stands still, that past, present, and future become one; that everything is present where we are; and that God, we, and all that is have come together in total unity. This is the experience of God's time. "When the completion of the time came [that is: in the fullness of time], God sent his Son, born of a woman" (Galatians 4:4), and in the fullness of time God will "bring everything together under Christ, as head, everything in the heavens and everything on earth" (Ephesians 1:10). It is in the fullness of time that we meet God.

The Mountaintop Experience

At some moments we experience complete unity within us and around us. This may happen when we stand on a mountaintop and are captivated by the view. It may happen when we witness the birth of a child or the death of a friend. It may happen when we have an intimate conversation or a family meal. It may happen in church during a service or in a quiet room during prayer. But whenever and however it happens we say to ourselves: "This is it ... everything fits ... all I ever hoped for is here."

This is the experience that Peter, James, and John had on the top of Mount Tabor when they saw the aspect of Jesus' face change and his clothing become sparkling white. They wanted that moment to last forever (see Luke 9:28-36). This is the experience of the fullness of time. These moments are given to us so that we can remember them when God seems far away and everything appears empty and useless. These experiences are true moments of grace.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

3 Candles

I've had a much needed quiet evening.

My heart is feeling slightly more settled.

Little things have helped:
the first home-cooked meal all week.
resting on the couch.
early into bed.

I needed light and hope tonight. When I retired to my room, I glanced at the Advent wreath I placed on my dresser several weeks back and realized that if there was ever a night when I needed the reminder the glow of the Advent candles bring, tonight was it. So, slowly, carefully, I lit the three for the weeks we've journeyed through thus far. 2 purple and a rose. And I paused for just a moment to breathe and remember and hope and long for the coming of the light.

In a few moments I'll extinguish them, and head for sleep, but tonight 3 candles were life-giving.

I want to unfold

I was re-reading some lines I copied down about a year ago, from a book called "Rilke's Book of Hours" - a beautiful collection of poetry by Ranier Maria Rilke, and I came across the following lines, which moved me:

I want to unfold.
Let no place in me hold itself closed,
for where I am closed, I am false.
I want to stay clear in your sight.

Broken

I'm thinking a lot about a line from Psalm 51 this morning: "You have broken me, now let me rejoice."

The transition between worlds that I wrote about yesterday was harsher even than I knew at the time I wrote.

My heart is bruised and shattered.

I'm working to not assign blame, to not hate, to not play the "what if" game. Because, as a dear friend reminded me last night, speaking out the truth my heart was already wrestling with, "Jesus doesn't blame that person, or hate them."

The same friend reminded me that sometimes broken is "sweetly broken".

And so, I'm resting here. Praying deeply for those I love. Praying for my own heart scattered about in bits on the floor.

There are two days of work left. I just need to get through them. This week has been full. Too full. I need a weekend, and some rest. I need the ability to stay in bed, to curl up with scripture and a journal, and to be broken in peace, without needing to put on the facade of wholeness that my job requires.

"You have broken me, now let me rejoice."

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Eyes to See...

I liked this quote on Hope's blog today:

"When we can see the image of God where we don't want to see the image of God, then we see with eyes not our own." (Richard Rohr, "Everything Belongs")

Headline re. Peru

Ancient City Unearthed in Peru

Snapping Back

For a brief, two or three hour period last night, the mental, emotional, and spiritual space I generally occupy shifted. For that time the weight and the cares vanished, and I laughed and talked with my brother. We planned and schemed for a special event in his life that’s happening tonight. We did a bit of Christmas shopping, and shared our own uniquely twisted sense of humor, upon seeing a woman out walking her dog. (The dog had booties with reflective tape on them, which was the only thing that made it visible as the woman walking it crossed the street in front of us. We both did double takes as we saw four little reflective booties moving across the street, seemingly attached to nothing. And the jokes regarding the possibilities surrounding reflective clothing for small animals flowed from there.)

And then, he left my house, and I abruptly and harshly snapped back into my more usual hyper-aware state. The news of a friend’s very ill child. A deep ache in my ribcage. An email from a friend. Some photos of people I love.

I seem to move between spaces – between worlds – a lot lately. I’m getting used to it, and can survive it with dignity and even peace most days. But last night was particularly harsh, the transition was quick and rough. And I’m feeling like I’m still reeling a bit from that today.

Practical Thoughts

My heart is still uneasy. Tears are close to the surface, and my heart aches and prays and longs. (I'll probably write about that later.)

For the moment, though, here are some practical things:

I'm concerned about the fact that I need to get my roommate to the airport for 8:00 tonight. It took me nearly 2 hours to drive home yesterday (it normally takes 3o -40 minutes). If that happens tonight, we won't make it to the airport in time.

It's only been two weeks, but I'm already tired of the cold and snow. I am definitely (despite being born and raised in this ridiculous climate) a fair weather kind of lady.

As much as I hate public transit, if this weather keeps up, I might go back to taking the train. I'll drive to the train station and go from there. It's got to be better than sitting in stop and go traffic in the snow for 2 hours. (That said, the practical part of my brain is also reminding me of the many transit weather delays over the years.)

I'm exausted again. The weight of the things making my heart uneasy, and driving me to pray has been heavy again this week, and sleep has been even more fleeting than usual. Once I get home from the airport run tonight, I'm going straight to bed. Or at least to curl up in bed and do semi-relaxing things. Or maybe just to sit quietly in my candle lit bedroom and pray.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Heart Un-Ease (A Heart at Prayer)

My heart is unsettled again today. Perhaps because of the continuing pull of Advent. Perhaps for other reasons.

In any case, today my heart is praying:
  • for two very special children whom I gathered to myself, offering comfort and prayers with my hands and my hugs and my love in a dream the other day.
  • for a dear friend
  • for the deeply needed outcomes seen in recent dreams
  • and the outcomes that are less than desirable too.
  • for wisdom as I seek to make decisions for the new year
  • for the ability to make those decisions without fear.
  • for the continued provision of a loving Father who knows my needs
  • for continued obedience, even knowing how badly it hurts at times.
  • for right words, right actions, right timing.
  • for countries and continents that rise to the surface of my heart and call me to pray
  • for those who are grieving
  • for those who are drawn to mind through various reminders, aches and pains, symbols and smells, words and thoughts and deeds
  • for my baby brother, who has encountered many challenges as he has sought to be obedient and serve Jesus this year
  • for life and joy and hope.
  • for those waiting and longing
  • for friends scattered
  • for old and changing relationships
  • and recently established ones
  • and newly budding ones
  • for healing and restoration
  • for the light to come.

Amen. Come Lord Jesus.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Monday Night

It was a longish day.

Then dinner out with friends.

Christmas shopping.

And it's still ridiculously cold.

They're predicting that the temperature will go up to -17 by morning. And we're glad for that. We celebrate -17C. How twisted is that?

And now, now I'm going to bed.

Goodnight.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

God's Outrageous Love

I watched this tonight, and was deeply moved by it.

Updated Headline

An update on the headline I linked to yesterday:

Vancouver Party Shooting Victim is CEO

Cold

Just how cold is it you ask?

Well, the temperature of the sewers is higher than the temperature of the outside air, and steam is rising from the storm grates.

It's that cold.

Sunday Quiet

It's nearly one o'clock, and I am curled up on the couch in our living room, buried under a pair of afghans. One knitted by my Grandma as a gift, and one hand crocheted by me, in a spurt of creativity a few years back. I'm wrapped in a heavy woolen sweater roughly the color of oatmeal that my dad purchased in Ireland in the late 1970s, and that I stole from his closet and made my own sometime in my teenage years. It's -25C or so outside today, with a severe windchill warning in effect that makes the air more like -38C.

I woke slightly later than normal, from deep and moving dreams. I lay for a while in bed, enjoying the quiet, and praying for those whom the dreams involved.

Eventually I bundled myself up, and ventured out - a quick trip to the grocery store to buy mandarin oranges, and pie filling in a can for a baking project I may or may not attempt later today.

And then, then I came home, and curled up under the blankets and began to read.

I am tempted to turn the television on, or to pop a movie in the dvd player, but I remind myself that this Sunday morning time while my roommates are at church is precious, and, that in a short time, when they return, and our house is again filled with noise and laughter and conversation, I will regret that I spent my precious hours of quiet on a movie that could have been watched later, or a television show that does little if anything to stimulate thoughts worth pursuing.

And so, I've been curled up with Robert Benson's "Living Prayer" for the last hour or so. I've read two chapters - one on creating sacred space for prayer, and one on journaling as a form of prayer. As I've come to expect, both chapters had much to offer. There is only one chapter remaining, and I'm hoping to savour it over the course of the afternoon. Few books recently have so moved me, so touched my heart and soul in the places that it exists, so explained this odd existence of prayer that is slowly becoming the norm for my life, and I will be sorry when this one draws to a close.

And yet, I'm plotting ways to extend the pleasure. Recording it in audio form, to share with a dear friend, and to listen to that wisdom again and again as I drive to and from work. It's a beautifully written book, the words strung together artfully and gracefully, and will be lovely read aloud.

And now, I'd expect that my roommates will return momentarily as the church they attend likely ended it's service nearly an hour ago, so I'm off to enjoy the remaining minutes of quiet in my home, before the bustle of three women, busy preparing for trips abroad (my roommates, not I), for the holidays, and for the coming week once again takes center stage in our home.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Headline Catching My Attention

1 Dead After Former Employee Opens Fire at Christmas Party

Ornament

I took this photo last night. My family had a tradition growing up that for each year, the three of us kids received an ornament that symbolized something important from that year of our life. Often the ornaments were hand carved by my dad.

My parents provided the ornaments until we turned 21. After that, if we wanted to continue the tradition, it was up to us. It's my favorite Christmas tradition, and each year, in late November, I begin considering what I want to symbolize the year that has passed.

This year I settled on a rose. A strong symbol for a wide variety of deeply personal reasons. I wasn't able to find an ornament with a rose on it, so I made one for myself. That's what you see above.

I was sitting on the couch last night, and it caught my attention. So beautiful from where I was sitting, and a much needed reminder.

Roommate Frustrations

I have roommate frustrations again.

They've dissipated a bit from the high point this morning, when I escaped into my bedroom to avoid exploding and/or committing murder.

After that, I took them out on baking pumpkin muffins (sooo good!) and cooking lunch.

The trouble with living in a cold climate with a couple people who voluntarily decided to move here from a warm climate, but like to conveniently forget that they came voluntarily, is that I tend to get stuck with all the climate related jobs. Like shoveling snow. And making sure the hose is disconnected for winter. Those sorts of things.

Today, I've decided, I'm not going to do it. Someone else can shovel the snow.

I'm also not going to clean up the mess they've made in our kitchen.

And the next time there's a fiancee in my house at 7:00 in the morning because he just couldn't wait to see her, well, we'll be having a conversation about boundaries and the fact that there is absolutely no need for there to be a boy in our house at 7:00 in the morning.

Don't get me wrong, most of the time I absolutely love my roommates, but every once in a while, I have a moment where I simply want to wring their necks.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Headline

This story made me sad:

UK Caused Cholera, Says Zimbabwe

Smile

I got an email from my baby brother tonight. Sharing some news that made me smile in delight.

It hasn't been an easy year for any of my siblings or me. We've all faced and continue to face some pretty big challenges.

But this news, (that I'm not going to tell you) made me smile.

I needed a reason to smile tonight.

Friday Night

It's blizzarding outside. There's a severe winter storm warning going on, and the temperature is supposed to drop to -30C overnight.

So, I'm curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and a favorite wool sweater. The Christmas tree lights are turned on and a brand new ornament with a rose on it is sparkling tonight.

I ate a half-pint of blackberries and thoroughly enjoyed them.

I'm trying to figure out a way to use my laptop to record my voice. I want to make my own audiobooks. Mostly because there's a book I've been reading that I'd like to be able to hear while I'm driving and working and such like.

For the weekend, I'm mostly planning to hang out inside.

I'm making a quick trip to my parent's house to pick up some ingredients for baking tomorrow.

And I'm going to a Saturday evening mass with a friend.

But mostly, I'm going to hang out inside. (Unless I go stir crazy.)

I'm broke until payday on Monday, so Christmas shopping is out until then.

So, reading. Baking. Writing. Cleaning. Resting. These are the orders of the day for the next two days.

These, wool sweaters, comfy jeans, and lots of cups of tea.

Oh, and some chocolate. Because what would a weekend be without chocolate?

Advent (and Lent)

I feel the pressing of the darkness
the weight of the season

it's not hard, at this time of year
when I arrive at work in the dark
and leave when the light has already begun to fade
to feel the darkness encroaching
and understand the longing for the light

on my stereo a lone voice sings
of the journey to the cross
"Into the darkness we must go,
gone, gone is the light.
Jesus, remember me
when you enter your kingdom."

"This feels more like Lent -
like a journey to death and a grave,
than like Advent, and praying for birth"
I said to her
"Advent and Lent are the same"
she said
"A conversation for another night,
but Advent and Lent are the same"

Cyclical seasons
journeying through the dark
ever longing for light
for life, for restoration
to come.

Jesus Christ, have mercy on me
as I wait and walk in darkness.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Raw Hope

Psalm 116

1 I love the LORD, for he heard my voice;
he heard my cry for mercy.

2 Because he turned his ear to me,
I will call on him as long as I live.

3 The cords of death entangled me,
the anguish of the grave came upon me;
I was overcome by trouble and sorrow.

4 Then I called on the name of the LORD :
"O LORD, save me!"

5 The LORD is gracious and righteous;
our God is full of compassion.

6 The LORD protects the simplehearted;
when I was in great need, he saved me.

7 Be at rest once more, O my soul,
for the LORD has been good to you.

8 For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,

9 that I may walk before the LORD
in the land of the living.

10 I believed; therefore I said,
"I am greatly afflicted."

11 And in my dismay I said,
"All men are liars."

12 How can I repay the LORD
for all his goodness to me?

13 I will lift up the cup of salvation
and call on the name of the LORD.

14 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people.

15 Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his saints.

16 O LORD, truly I am your servant;
I am your servant, the son of your maidservant;
you have freed me from my chains.

17 I will sacrifice a thank offering to you
and call on the name of the LORD.

18 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people,

19 in the courts of the house of the LORD—
in your midst, O Jerusalem.
Praise the LORD.

Pulling. Ripping. Groaning.

There's a verse in scripture that talks about all creation groaning in need of redemption.

There's another verse that speaks of the Spirit interceding on our behalf with groans beyond words.

Somedays I think my body knows those groanings deeply. I feel and sense them in ways I can't quite explain.

Today is one of those days.

I feel a ripping. A pulling. A groaning. A longing of all creation.

And I wonder what it means.

I wonder what is coming.

And I sit unsettled in the midst of it.

Praying.

Listening.

Restless.

Resting.

Waiting.

Longing.

Groaning.

Bittersweet December

I'm finding this advent season bittersweet.

It's very marked for me with lots of first anniversaries this year. Lots of memories of anticipation. Of decisions made. Of longing. And the sudden and painful way so much of that went sideways.

It's been a hard year. I'd trade a lot of the things that happened. I'm not sure I'd trade the results. I know God so much more deeply, intimately, personally. I suppose I can't have the results without the events of the year, but if I could trade the events away and keep the results, I would in a heartbeat.

And so, this morning, I find myself longing again. More deeply than usual. Feeling the pull of the advent season, and the closeness of the tears as I reflect on the year. I'm longing for the coming of the light. For the peace and joy and hope it brings.

I wait here in the darkness and pray and long for the light. For it to come fully. For it to come quickly. For it to bring deep healing and restoration.

Come quickly Lord Jesus and have mercy on us.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Peru in the News Again

Peru Aims for Zero Deforestation

Poor Start

Today is a busy day. I have a bunch of things on my plate at the office, and then I'm attending (and working at) a concert tonight.

In the rush to make sure I didn't forget anything essential for the transition from office wear to something a little more appropriate for selling cds at a concert downtown tonight, I was running a little behind on time. I managed to grab breakfast to bring to work with me, and a few snacks for the day, but forgot the very nice lunch that I'd packed. Which means that I'm broke, but will still have to buy lunch. Which means eating healthy is kinda going out the window today. A & W here I come (courtesy of a shortened lunch hour so that I can leave the office early to be on time for the concert - which my company is also a corporate sponsor of). A & W is the only cheap food in 5 minutes walking distance. Oh well.

Here's hoping the rest of the day works out better than the beginning has!

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Reading again...

I read another chapter in Robert Benson's "Living Prayer" tonight.

This time it was perhaps the most simple and helpful and deeply profound thoughts on intercession that I've ever encountered.

When he talked about it, so many of the things I've experienced this last year made sense.

And I love an author who can write about such a profound topic as intercession without using the word intercession or intercessor every other sentence. I think he maybe only used the word intercession twice in the entire chapter.

Plus, I love an author who admits to stumbling and bumbling his way towards the answers. Most of my favorite authors write like that. I'm not interested in reading the ones who pretend to have it all together. Having it all together seems like such a false way of living.

Anyway, here are a couple of the many favorite quotes I marked in the chapter I read tonight:

If we pray, and if we believe that God listens to our prayer, then to spend that audience on behalf of someone else is an act of selflessness that is larger than it seems. At some level, our prayer - spoken or unspoken, written or read aloud, experienced in silence or lived out in the work of our hands and feet - is all that we have to offer each other. And it can be the best that we ever give each other as well. (pg. 131)

Perhaps God does not need me to pray for myself or for others because He needs help figuring out what to do or needs some degree of persuasion on our part before He is willing to do good for somebody. Perhaps God needs me to pray so that I can be about the business of laying myself and the people and places and things I care about on the altar. It is okay if I do not know what is to happen next. I just need to be laying them out on the rocks - with hope, with faith, with diligence, with attention, with compassion.

Then I need to listen, listen for the prayer of God that is rising in my heart, perhaps for the prayer that I should be praying rather than the one that I am praying. (pg.133-134)

Monday, December 08, 2008

Daily

In an effort to balance out some crazyness in my life, and to be better at self-care - not a strength for a woman who was in many ways raised to believe that anyone and everyone was more deserving of her time and attention than herself - these are some of the things I'm making a daily priority right now:
  • writing a blog post of some kind. writing helps me process life. writing on a blog on a daily basis forces me to be accountable to show up at something regularly. It's not hard and fast, it's just something that works for me. If I miss a day, ok. But I'd rather not.
  • Writing in my paper journal. As I said, writing helps me process life. But it's good to do it on paper. There's something therapeutic for me in picking up a pen and recording what I'm thinking about, and what went on in my day - internally and externally.
  • taking vitamins.
  • getting rest. because I don't sleep very well, or in long chunks, this means that I need to be in bed earlier than I (as a night owl) would prefer. It means I need to be horizontal, even if I'm not asleep, because it really does mean I'm resting.
  • spending time in scripture. see my post below for thoughts on how what you read can impact your spiritual life. I'm learning (again) that scripture works on you if you let it. that it forms and changes your heart, and draws you closer to Jesus.
I think that's it. Those are the big things that I do on a daily basis at the moment in an effort to care for myself. There are other little things - buying myself flowers, stuff like that. But for the moment, I'm just glad to have some big things in place.

What you read has power

I've been having an ongoing conversation with a couple different friends about the impact that reading can have on a person. I've actually had to stop reading certain genres of books for the moment (some favorites, which hasn't been easy) because of the effect they've had on my whole being, and the way they've contributed to some of the spiritual, physical and emotional lows that I've been trying to regulate and level out a bit this last while.

Anyway, I've been reading this fantastic book titled "Living Prayer" by a man named Robert Benson lately. (I posted a while back about another book of his - "Between the Dreaming and the Coming True" which was also hugely powerful, and think I may have to read everything of his that I can get my hands on, judging by the two I've read so far.) And, in the midst of "Living Prayer", in a chapter on the impact of what we read on our spiritual and prayer lives, I came across the following paragraph or two, and was profoundly affected by them. (And annoyed, too, because they absolutely confirmed a point that a dear friend has been making to me, one I really kind of wanted her to be wrong about, while being simultaneously absolutely certain that she was right.)

Benson writes:

I know for a fact that there is an absolute and direct relationship between what I read and what I write. I also know that I cannot pray and I cannot be centered and I cannot do the work that has been given me to do whenever what I am reading is not conducive to such.

I got hooked once on a set of murder mysteries. The good news is that I enjoyed them all immensely and I finished the entire set. The bad news is that there are seventeen of them. For months, I was reading stories about murder and deceit, about betrayal and abuse. (It was a little like reading Genesis, now that I think of it.) The whole time, I was wondering why it was that my spirit was so thirsty and my prayer was so dry. I was starving myself and wondering where my strength had gone.
(Living Prayer, pg. 116-117)

Thoughts from Henri

It's been a little while since I posted some thoughts from Henri Nouwen, but here are two that I've received via email recently.

Restored to Eternal Life

One thing we know for sure about our God: Our God is a God of the living, not of the dead. God is life. God is love. God is beauty. God is goodness. God is truth. God doesn't want us to die. God wants us to live. Our God, who loves us from eternity to eternity, wants to give us life for eternity.

When that life was interrupted by our unwillingness to give our full yes to God's love, God sent Jesus to be with us and to say that great yes in our name and thus restore us to eternal life. So let's not be afraid of death. There is no cruel boss, vengeful enemy, or cruel tyrant waiting to destroy us - only a loving, always forgiving God, eager to welcome us home.

The Renewal of the Whole Creation

Our final homecoming involves not just ourselves and our fellow human beings but all of creation. The full freedom of the children of God is to be shared by the whole earth, and our complete renewal in the resurrection includes the renewal of the universe. That is the great vision of God's redeeming work through Christ.

Paul sees the whole created order as a woman groaning in labour, waiting eagerly to give birth to a new life. He writes: "It was not for its own purposes that creation had frustration imposed on it, but for the purposes of him who imposed it - with the intention that the whole creation itself might be freed from its slavery to corruption and brought into the same glorious freedom as the children of God" (Romans 8:20-21). All that God has created will be lifted up into God's glory.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

Pearl Harbor Day

Okay, so the history geek in me can't let today go by without a quick mention of Pearl Harbor Day. The anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor was today (December 7, 1941) and it became an important turning point in the Second World War.

Just thought you all should know how much of a history geek I really am!

Snowstorms, Work, and other mini-rants.

It's dumping snow here.

And in a couple hours I have to drive across the entire city, to get in a friend's vehicle, and drive out into the country (on absolutely terrible roads) to attend an office Christmas party that I never wanted to go to in the first place.

Office politics drive me crazy. I'm going to a party, with a bunch of people (with a couple exceptions) that I don't want to spend social time with, on a Sunday night, in a blizzard, because I felt obligated, and because the politics in my office dictate that it would look bad if my bosses' staff didn't show up.

Sigh. Such a production for an evening that will be less than enjoyable.

Almost Over

I'm nearly at the end of a commitment I've made. A period of time set aside specifically to pray and fast and wait. There are 3 hours left. I'm glad I've done it, but I'll be glad when it draws to a close as well.

When it ends, I'll still be committed to praying and waiting. I'll actually still be doing a fast of sorts. So, in that way, I guess not too much will change.

But it's been a unique few days, and I'm glad for them in a way. I'm glad for the slowing down and the focus that this time demanded. I'm glad for the draw to focus and pray for some of those I love deeply.

And yet, I'll be glad that it is drawing to a close.

I'm praying still for a change of season. A shift to come. I pray that it draws closer and comes quickly.

Saturday, December 06, 2008

Afternoon Tangents

I didn't actually do many of the Christmas related things on my list today, though I did get a few little gifts bought (as well as a little gift for myself!) I may still put up the tree, but I'm not feeling highly motivated to get to that. It needs to get done this weekend, but again, I'm more of an advent sort of girl than a Christmas Spirit sort of girl, and well, I guess I'm saying it's hard to motivate myself to do it.

I did however, clean my house quite thoroughly. Our kitchen and bathroom have been scrubbed from top to bottom. And I did a load of laundry as well.

And just as another tangent, is there anything quite as nice as taking that first shower in a freshly scrubbed bathroom, and then toweling off with a towel freshly fluffed from the dryer, and smelling sweetly of whatever your preferred fabric softener is?

I'm headed for my bedroom shortly. I need to clean it as well. To make my space tidy again, and a space conducive to sitting for reading, prayer, and just general resting or thinking.

And then, once it's clean, I'm going to sit for a while and read and pray, or just generally rest and think.

I'll probably go to church later. And maybe I'll do the recycling. And the Christmas tree. That will happen this weekend. There's groceries to be bought (though I think that can wait for tomorrow), and I need to get gas for George as well.

Saturday Morning Thoughts (With an Advent Tangent)

It's Saturday morning again. I seem to write these posts on a regular basis.

I'm in the midst of a couple of days of fairly intentional quiet and prayer.

Still in a season of fasting and waiting and praying.

But today, though I'm moving a bit slowly, conscious of my energy and the demands of what I do on my body, I'm going to find things that are joyful.

I'm going to start my Christmas shopping, and go with my roommate to do some of her Christmas shopping. I need to find birthday gifts for three separate people who all have birthday's before Christmas. I may even put up my Christmas tree.

That seems like a lot of Christmas for one day.

I'm sort of one of these people who really likes Advent. I don't tend to get into the "Christmas Spirit" until Christmas Eve. There's something for me in the darkness of Advent, the waiting and longing for light to enter the world, for the birth of the savior.

So, I do all the Christmasy things that are necessary before Christmas eve, but I'm not really feeling it until then. Until it's the moment of arrival. The birth of the child.

I used to feel bad about that. Like I was some sort of Christmas spoil-sport. But this year, in the midst of the season of life I've found myself in, I've told myself that it's okay to simply embrace this. To wait and long for the birth of a savior, for the arrival of light in the world. To move slowly and quietly through the darkness, preparing (buying gifts, decorating, etc.) for the coming of Christmas, but not hurrying the process, or feeling bad for not yet being ready to celebrate. Anticipation and longing, I've decided, are not unhealthy things.

And, with that unexpected Advent tangent, I'm off to do laundry, and head out to do things that prepare for the coming celebration of light and birth.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Friday Night Bullet Points

Random Friday Night Musings:
  • I'm wearing a favorite pair of navy blue sweats. They are a hand-me-down from my best friend, during one of her recent moves, and I've worn them around the house, and occasionally as pajamas ever since. I've been missing her a lot lately (what with her being on the other side of the world in an unstable country and all) and it brings a smile to my face to curl up for a quiet Friday evening in her sweat pants.
  • Last night I got a couple of hugs from a very dear friend. I'd been looking forward to them for a few weeks, and it was so nice to get them. Even though our time together was short, I was so glad we got even the few minutes we had.
  • I bought myself a single red rose today. It's sitting in a bud vase on my dressing table, reminding me of many special moments from this year.
  • I read a passage in a book tonight that made me laugh. Mostly because the author made a point that a friend of mine has been trying to make to me for at least a couple of months.
  • I think I'll start my Christmas shopping tomorrow.
  • And put up the Christmas tree.
  • I think I'll write a blog post in the next few days with the title "Why I Watch Grey's Anatomy"
  • I'm curled up on my couch, enjoying a quiet Friday evening at home. This is definitely my favorite way to spend a Friday evening.
  • I'm still loving the scents of Frankincense and Myrrh. Oddly seasonal, and yet just odd. Burial spices.
  • I'm still reading Jeremiah. Stuck in chapter 31 at the moment, reading it over and over.
  • I'm thinking about a Lauren Winner quote in regards to fasting. "Fasting reminds us that our truest hunger is for God."
And that, I think is pretty much it for my Friday night random musings. I'm off to read a bit, and watch a movie or something in bed.

"I Was Made for War" (a prayer for her)

I don’t think I’ll ever forget her voice as she described the strength and energy the lyrics brought her in the midst of her deep brokenness. The words she used that night, sitting in my car in the dark, have long ago escaped from my memory, but her tone of voice, the strength, the hope, the joy that it carried remain.

I’m thinking about her again today, and praying for her. I’ve been listening today to the CD that we were talking about those few years back. It’s become one I’ve listened to a lot again lately, giving words to the prayers of my heart for some others that I dearly love.

She quoted a line from one of the songs, “I was made for war. I was made for battle, Lord,” and her voice carried such strength. Such hope. She was in the midst of an intense battleground, and I think she felt as if it was a losing thing most of the time. She was strong and independent – street smart – and having trouble assimilating that part of herself with her newly discovered faith in Jesus. I think she felt that as a young woman she was supposed to be compliant, pious, and quiet.

But she was engaged in a battle for her life. A battle with addiction. A battle for mental health. A battle for survival, and compliant, pious, and quiet just weren’t cutting it. Then, a mutual friend of ours (the one who also introduced me to this particular CD and artist) gave her a copy of Rita Springer’s “Effortless” album, and suggested that she would perhaps enjoy the song “Holy Visitation” where Springer cries out for the presence of God, and declares boldly that she is ready and able to stand up and fight. And my friend found such encouragement in that. Such strength and hope in the midst of the darkest hours of the night.

There are so many songs on that album that have stories like this one for me. Songs that God has used over and over to call me to intercede. To encourage friends of mine. To simply worship Him. Some of the songs have more than one story to go with them.

And so, as this album has surfaced in my collection again lately, and I’ve been listening to it on repeat all day as I sit at work, sticking labels on envelopes, my heart is again being called to pray. To pray for many friends. To pray for those I love dearly. And to simply worship. And in the midst of that, today, my heart remembers her. I’ve lost track of her now, though I’m fairly certain she’s made a new life in a different province. But every so often she comes to mind, in moments like today, and my heart still whispers a prayer for her.

News Headlines

Paris Thieves Steal $100M in Jewels

Moral Battle Over Spanish Schools

Russian Orthodox Church Head Dies

Preacher Charged with Killing Pastor's Daughter

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Mid-day

I'm tired, and it's making me feel ill.

Sleep was a non-event mostly again last night.

Half-way through what promises to be another long day.

I'll be so glad for the weekend to arrive.

I just find myself wishing I didn't need to attend a work function on Sunday night, right before having to head back to work on Monday. Oh well... such is life I guess.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

At the end of a very long day

I am at the end of a very long day.

I'm wearing sweats and a favorite hoodie, and curled up on my couch with plans to watch some television, eat dinner, and hopefully head for bed early. Somewhere in there I have a few little things on my "to do" list.

Some things today were unexpected. And yet, once they began, they were very much the way I expected that they would.

Other things were pretty much how I knew they'd be, from the moment I woke up this morning.

I have a bad headache - and it's making me a bit nauseous.

I'm laughing in a cynical, ironic sort of way at some of the things I've explained today, and the way various things I've thought about have come up.

I'm so tired. Not at all hopeful or joyful in the space of watching and waiting, the way I was this morning. Just praying for a less interrupted sleep, and glad that I get a hug from a very dear friend tomorrow night.

So. We'll start again tomorrow.

Keeping Watch

I went to bed early last night. (Well, early for me anyway. My lights were out by 10:30 - that's pretty good for me.)

I don't really expect to sleep through the night anymore. I can't remember the last time I made it even three hours without waking. Last night was no exception.

And yet, last night was somehow different.

I woke once an hour, almost exactly on the half-hour mark, seven times in total through the night. Just long enough to glance at the clock, register the time, mumble a half-concious prayer, and groan as I rolled back over and into sleep.

An odd, half-concious keeping watch through the hours of the night. Waiting and praying. Mumbling and groaning, and sometimes resting.

It seemed oddly fitting, somehow, with this watchful, unsettled season of life. Oddly fitting with the advent scripture I read last night.

And so, as the day goes on, I still find myself watching and waiting and praying. Mumbling, groaning, and sometimes resting.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Headline - Tuesday.

Israel Buries Mumbai Dead.

Unsettled.

I remain in a space of feeling unsettled. I'm working to be okay with that, but am having a harder time than usual tonight.

I remain in a space of fasting and praying, waiting and watching.

I remain strangely attracted to the scents of the burial spices that the wise men brought as gifts to the baby Jesus. To frankincense and myrrh. I burn them in my home, cover my skin with lotion scented with them, and today I wore oil of myrrh as my perfume.

How can a season of death also be one of birth?

And what does it all mean?

I found a website with daily scripture readings for advent. This was tonight's:

Mark 13
33 Take heed, watch; for you do not know when the time will come.
34 It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch.
35 Watch therefore--for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning--
36 lest he come suddenly and find you asleep.
37 And what I say to you I say to all: Watch."


And so, I wait and watch and fast and pray, and hope and dream, and try to trust that eventually the unsettledness will pass, and the season will change, and rest and peace and healing will be fully and deeply restored to so many whom I love.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Headline - Monday night

This headline caught my attention tonight:

Brazil's President asks God to Halt Rains, Proposes New Plan for Aid

One Candle

I missed attending a church service for the first Sunday of Advent for the first time in my life yesterday, and it really bothered me. My heart seems to revolve with the seasons of the church calendar and it was hard on me to not be with a corporate body to acknowledge that. Especially given the way this last year has been. A season of waiting for birth, and for light to enter into the world seems fitting right now.

So, tonight I formed a simple wreath on my dresser. Three purple tapers, and one rose colored one. Five stones engraved with words that have been reminders to my heart all year. Loved. Hope. Courage. Peace. Joy. And one short white pillar in the centre - the Christ candle, waiting for Christmas to dawn.

I prayed a simple prayer, read a few verses of scripture, and lit the candle. It burnt there peacefully while I did a bit of writing, and then I snuffed it out for another week. The wreath will stay where it is, reminding me through the coming weeks to pray and fast and wait for the coming of the light, for the birth of the Messiah.

Come Lord Jesus.