So, since my blog has such an astronomically large readership, I thought I'd start sending my readers elsewhere, see if I can lose a few of you!
Actually, what's really going on is that when I come across something that strikes me as somehow brilliant, I just have to share it. So, without further ado, go read the article entitled "Twelve Ways to Know God" by Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft, here. Then, come back and let me know what you think!
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Laugh of the Week
I just spent the last ten minutes laughing out loud. I admit it - I have an extremely sarcastic sense of humor. On Tuesday night, a friend gave me a website to check out, and today I did. If you like sarcastic, somewhat mocking humor, you MUST visit despair.com. And James, if you're reading this - you made my day by suggesting this one!
Saturday, May 28, 2005
A Call to Go Deeper
Over the past several months I have been priviledged to hear from a number of different sources a call to take faith and community to a deeper level. Particularly noteworthy in my mind was a talk given by Pete Greig at the 24-7 Prayer Canada Launch Weekend at the beginning of April.
The call has been couched in terms of committment, in terms of willingness to surrender even greater parts of one's self to Christ. I have come away inspired, but frustrated.
I am living in a place where I feel so entrenched that I seem to be completely unable to move. Greig spoke of a vow to go deeper, done in community with what the Celts referred to as "cymbrogi" - companions of the heart. I have longed for the depth of that sort of relationship, but have not found it often or easily.
I find it incredibly difficult to build relationships that are deep and meaningful. I am an introvert by nature. I am a pastor's daughter, exposed to the hypocrisy and mean spirited nature of parts of the church at large at a very young age. I find it nearly impossible to trust others. I am more than willing to share my heart, but I share it with very little expectation that it will remain confidential.
How can one be called to go deeper, when one can barely survive in the shallows? How can the longing of my heart continue be for something so much more, when my heart is nearly collapsing under the pain of the journey? How can a life lived in fear be overcome to allow for something more to occur?
My deep desire is to live in a community where I am known and valued, where I have a god-given role to play. I want to know and value others in the same way I want to be known and valued. My desire is to find cymbrogi to share life with, but I wonder who would want to share life with someone as broken and hurting as me.
I don't say this with any sort of levity. I want so badly to find my niche - the place in which God has uniquely called me to serve and exist. And yet, I feel that I have nothing to offer to God or others. Most days I have to work to get out of bed without feeling miserable. I have more questions about God than answers, and spend more time angry and frustrated with him than filled with his joy and peace. I very rarely volunteer myself to serve, because I have become convinced that I at this moment have little to offer. I told myself that it was time to take a break from always being the one doing the "ministering" and allow myself to be ministered to. The trouble with that is that I have now been sidelined for two years. I am in worse emotional and spiritual shape than when I first allowed myself time off.
Can God use someone as useless as I feel? And how, when he is so painfully silent do I find that place that he is calling me to serve? How do I respond from this place of pain to a challenge to "go deeper"?
The call has been couched in terms of committment, in terms of willingness to surrender even greater parts of one's self to Christ. I have come away inspired, but frustrated.
I am living in a place where I feel so entrenched that I seem to be completely unable to move. Greig spoke of a vow to go deeper, done in community with what the Celts referred to as "cymbrogi" - companions of the heart. I have longed for the depth of that sort of relationship, but have not found it often or easily.
I find it incredibly difficult to build relationships that are deep and meaningful. I am an introvert by nature. I am a pastor's daughter, exposed to the hypocrisy and mean spirited nature of parts of the church at large at a very young age. I find it nearly impossible to trust others. I am more than willing to share my heart, but I share it with very little expectation that it will remain confidential.
How can one be called to go deeper, when one can barely survive in the shallows? How can the longing of my heart continue be for something so much more, when my heart is nearly collapsing under the pain of the journey? How can a life lived in fear be overcome to allow for something more to occur?
My deep desire is to live in a community where I am known and valued, where I have a god-given role to play. I want to know and value others in the same way I want to be known and valued. My desire is to find cymbrogi to share life with, but I wonder who would want to share life with someone as broken and hurting as me.
I don't say this with any sort of levity. I want so badly to find my niche - the place in which God has uniquely called me to serve and exist. And yet, I feel that I have nothing to offer to God or others. Most days I have to work to get out of bed without feeling miserable. I have more questions about God than answers, and spend more time angry and frustrated with him than filled with his joy and peace. I very rarely volunteer myself to serve, because I have become convinced that I at this moment have little to offer. I told myself that it was time to take a break from always being the one doing the "ministering" and allow myself to be ministered to. The trouble with that is that I have now been sidelined for two years. I am in worse emotional and spiritual shape than when I first allowed myself time off.
Can God use someone as useless as I feel? And how, when he is so painfully silent do I find that place that he is calling me to serve? How do I respond from this place of pain to a challenge to "go deeper"?
Monday, May 23, 2005
Conglomeration of Thoughts
I have a collection of random things on my mind tonight, in no particular order.
I'm done. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of feeling like shit all the time. (Mom, if you're reading this, that is definitely the right word to describe how I'm feeling. Sorry.) I just keep thinking that there has to be something better than this. There has to be a better way to approach life than this heaviness. I'm at the point where I would quite gladly give up on faith. I go to church and Bible study more for the social interaction these days than anything else. I have good friends there - people who care - the one bright spot in my life.
My mind is numb. I had a nasty night of sleep again last night, woke up every couple of hours, restless and unsure. I came home from a day out, and wanted to cry my eyes out but the tears wouldn't come. I worked hard today to numb my mind. I watched something like 6 hours of Friends on DVD. A friend lent me the first season, and it was a perfect mind candy - a way to avoid the hurts that crowded in during the night and as soon as I rose this morning.
My real beef is this - no matter how hard I work to numb my brain, as soon as the activity stops, the pain is back. So, I'm sitting here in front of my computer trying to empty some of the pain instead of just numbing it.
I went out to hand out food on the streets downtown last night after church. Interesting experience that I haven't quite processed yet. It hit me as we left, that my uncle is so very like some of the people we were feeding. In the last couple of years he's spent more time living in his van on the streets than anywhere else. He suffers from a mental illness, has lived occasionally with family members, and has been occasionally hospitalized, but has mostly lived in his van on the streets of various cities. I hurt for these people, but at the same time am desperately uncomfortable around them. I don't know yet if I'll go back out in the coming weeks.
There was one man, obviously affected mentally by the harsh lifestyle of the streets, by drug use, by something. We couldn't do anything but feed him, and pray for him. A friend asked me to pray, and I couldn't.
I couldn't pray. I'm not really on speaking terms with God at the moment. I am so angry with him, so tired of being disappointed by him. I can't pray anything other than my anger. I want to pray for friends, but at the same time question the point. Why set them up for the same disappointment that I've been experiencing? Why bother praying to a God who intervenes rarely, and seemingly in the lives of only a chosen few?
And why does God do that? Why does he work for some people and ignore others? Why do some people I know hear God so easily, while for others he is eternally silent? I know the cliche answer - the footprints poem answer. That it is in the times God seems most silent that he is carrying me. Well, good for him, but I'd be happy to walk if it meant that he'd just speak a word of encouragement - something to give me a reason to keep walking.
I hate all this anger. I miss having a loving relationship with God. I hate that I'm jealous of some dear friends because God speaks more readily to them than me. I hate how isolated I feel right now.
And one last thought - I can't handle the song "His Banner Over Me is Love" right now. It has that one line, that seems like it stabs me every time I hear it. "You do all things well, just look at our lives." If I was looking around for an example of something that God was doing well right now, my life would not be the place I would start. My life is a mess - it is not something anyone is doing well right now. (Least of all me). Nature is something God is doing well - my life is not.
At the same time, I feel guilty for feeling this way. I know (with all my born and raised in the church knowledge) that I don't see that whole picture. I continue to believe that God is sovereignly in control. But right now, those thoughts don't offer a great deal of comfort.
I'm done. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of feeling like shit all the time. (Mom, if you're reading this, that is definitely the right word to describe how I'm feeling. Sorry.) I just keep thinking that there has to be something better than this. There has to be a better way to approach life than this heaviness. I'm at the point where I would quite gladly give up on faith. I go to church and Bible study more for the social interaction these days than anything else. I have good friends there - people who care - the one bright spot in my life.
My mind is numb. I had a nasty night of sleep again last night, woke up every couple of hours, restless and unsure. I came home from a day out, and wanted to cry my eyes out but the tears wouldn't come. I worked hard today to numb my mind. I watched something like 6 hours of Friends on DVD. A friend lent me the first season, and it was a perfect mind candy - a way to avoid the hurts that crowded in during the night and as soon as I rose this morning.
My real beef is this - no matter how hard I work to numb my brain, as soon as the activity stops, the pain is back. So, I'm sitting here in front of my computer trying to empty some of the pain instead of just numbing it.
I went out to hand out food on the streets downtown last night after church. Interesting experience that I haven't quite processed yet. It hit me as we left, that my uncle is so very like some of the people we were feeding. In the last couple of years he's spent more time living in his van on the streets than anywhere else. He suffers from a mental illness, has lived occasionally with family members, and has been occasionally hospitalized, but has mostly lived in his van on the streets of various cities. I hurt for these people, but at the same time am desperately uncomfortable around them. I don't know yet if I'll go back out in the coming weeks.
There was one man, obviously affected mentally by the harsh lifestyle of the streets, by drug use, by something. We couldn't do anything but feed him, and pray for him. A friend asked me to pray, and I couldn't.
I couldn't pray. I'm not really on speaking terms with God at the moment. I am so angry with him, so tired of being disappointed by him. I can't pray anything other than my anger. I want to pray for friends, but at the same time question the point. Why set them up for the same disappointment that I've been experiencing? Why bother praying to a God who intervenes rarely, and seemingly in the lives of only a chosen few?
And why does God do that? Why does he work for some people and ignore others? Why do some people I know hear God so easily, while for others he is eternally silent? I know the cliche answer - the footprints poem answer. That it is in the times God seems most silent that he is carrying me. Well, good for him, but I'd be happy to walk if it meant that he'd just speak a word of encouragement - something to give me a reason to keep walking.
I hate all this anger. I miss having a loving relationship with God. I hate that I'm jealous of some dear friends because God speaks more readily to them than me. I hate how isolated I feel right now.
And one last thought - I can't handle the song "His Banner Over Me is Love" right now. It has that one line, that seems like it stabs me every time I hear it. "You do all things well, just look at our lives." If I was looking around for an example of something that God was doing well right now, my life would not be the place I would start. My life is a mess - it is not something anyone is doing well right now. (Least of all me). Nature is something God is doing well - my life is not.
At the same time, I feel guilty for feeling this way. I know (with all my born and raised in the church knowledge) that I don't see that whole picture. I continue to believe that God is sovereignly in control. But right now, those thoughts don't offer a great deal of comfort.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Restless
Restless is the best word I can come up with to describe my life right now. Restless and maybe unfulfilled. I experience life only partially, flitting from one time consuming activity to the next in a desperate attempt to fill my time, and still my mind - to distract myself from the challenges of my life right now. Television, novels, computer games, coffee with friends - all of these are excellent ways to fill time and avoid my own troubles for an extra hour or two.
I'm tired, so tired. All I keep hearing from people is how good God is. Just ask Him and he'll answer. He'll heal, whatever. That is so not my experience of God right now. I cling to Him desperately, because He's all I have, He's stability, but He's not healing, and I can't hear Him speaking. I'm tired of people who've never experienced depression offering useless answers. I'm tired of being tired and depressed. I'm tired of people who don't struggle so heavily with fear telling me that fear is a sin, and that God didn't create a spirit of fear. I'm tired of never being able to overcome fear - of wanting, but not quite finding the strength to battle the fear that stops me from praying, from risking, from engaging with the people around me.
I'm tired, so tired. All I keep hearing from people is how good God is. Just ask Him and he'll answer. He'll heal, whatever. That is so not my experience of God right now. I cling to Him desperately, because He's all I have, He's stability, but He's not healing, and I can't hear Him speaking. I'm tired of people who've never experienced depression offering useless answers. I'm tired of being tired and depressed. I'm tired of people who don't struggle so heavily with fear telling me that fear is a sin, and that God didn't create a spirit of fear. I'm tired of never being able to overcome fear - of wanting, but not quite finding the strength to battle the fear that stops me from praying, from risking, from engaging with the people around me.
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