I am tired of people with all the answers. Especially when they’re answers to questions no one seems to be asking, or when they’re answers that are trite and refuse to engage the depth inherent in the questions.
I am tired of the people who want to move past suffering into victory. What use is victory if you don’t acknowledge that over which you are victorious.
I am tired of the people who think victory is always blue skies and roses. Seems to me that the most important victory of them all – the one that we celebrate in just over two weeks, happened in darkness and blood, on a Friday.
I am tired of the people who are afraid of messyness. Seems to me that the most interesting people I’ve ever met were very messy.
I am tired of people who hide from honesty. The foundation of our faith is in truth, and truth, by its very nature requires a frank honesty.
I am tired of being told that everything that is not overtly “Christian” stems from the devil.
I am tired of attitudes of fear and evil about mental illnesses. Seems like we’d make so much more of a difference if we’d work to see people instead of a label and a stigma.
I am tired of being told that depression is terrible, sinful even. While I am grateful that God chose to heal my depression, I am beginning to see what a gift those years truly were. How much beauty there was in learning to acknowledge pain. How much grace is really found in healing. How I can speak from a place of empathy and understanding to those who are suffering.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Taking it Slow
I'm doing laundry tonight, and as little else as humanly possible.
All of the sleepless nights and the busyness and stress at work, plus fighting off some sort of cold/flu bug for the last couple weeks are catching up to me.
I have to remind myself every once in a while not to schedule every minute of my time, to make sure I'm taking "Sabbath" time. Time for me, and for God. Time to not think. Time to pray, to read or write, to lay in a bath-tub, to light candles, or to simply watch television.
I'm trying to be a bit careful with the time I have in the evenings tonight, since I won't have the normal weekend to rest up. I'm at a conference for work this weekend - Friday and most of the day Saturday. Since the conference is at a really beautiful hotel in Kananaskis, I invited my friend Kari to join me as my "spouse" for the weekend, and I'm taking advantage of lower corporate rates to stay an extra day and hang with her. Can't wait to see her, but have to admit that I'll be really grateful when all the stress of planning this conference for work is over, and the piles of stuff involved in planning and carrying it out are off my desk.
And with that, I'm off to check on my laundry, and keep on doing "nothing" for the night!
All of the sleepless nights and the busyness and stress at work, plus fighting off some sort of cold/flu bug for the last couple weeks are catching up to me.
I have to remind myself every once in a while not to schedule every minute of my time, to make sure I'm taking "Sabbath" time. Time for me, and for God. Time to not think. Time to pray, to read or write, to lay in a bath-tub, to light candles, or to simply watch television.
I'm trying to be a bit careful with the time I have in the evenings tonight, since I won't have the normal weekend to rest up. I'm at a conference for work this weekend - Friday and most of the day Saturday. Since the conference is at a really beautiful hotel in Kananaskis, I invited my friend Kari to join me as my "spouse" for the weekend, and I'm taking advantage of lower corporate rates to stay an extra day and hang with her. Can't wait to see her, but have to admit that I'll be really grateful when all the stress of planning this conference for work is over, and the piles of stuff involved in planning and carrying it out are off my desk.
And with that, I'm off to check on my laundry, and keep on doing "nothing" for the night!
Monday, March 26, 2007
The surprising sacred moments
I'm thinking, just now, about finding the sacred in the most commonplace of happenings, even in the things that are disappointing.
I was supposed to be fasting today, part of a commitment to seek God's face through this Lenten season. I'd already planned to make it shorter than normal, because of some health and physical energy issues I've been having lately, but ended up having to break the fast by noon, instead of at dinner as planned. I was developing a fairly severe headache, and the fruit juice I was drinking to bring my blood sugar wasn't putting a dent in it. But, you know, I found God anyway, in little ways through the day.
In conversations, in enjoying the food, since I knew it was a treat to be consuming it. In dinner out with my best friend. In chatting about the stuff of life, her hospital stories (she's a nurse), a few of my recent "blond" moments at work. In flipping through some pictures she hadn't seen from a road trip we took together last fall. In the book I'm reading. In the U2 I was playing at work today. In a compliment from my boss.
I met Jesus in lots of little places today, and I'm grateful for the surprising sacred moments.
I was supposed to be fasting today, part of a commitment to seek God's face through this Lenten season. I'd already planned to make it shorter than normal, because of some health and physical energy issues I've been having lately, but ended up having to break the fast by noon, instead of at dinner as planned. I was developing a fairly severe headache, and the fruit juice I was drinking to bring my blood sugar wasn't putting a dent in it. But, you know, I found God anyway, in little ways through the day.
In conversations, in enjoying the food, since I knew it was a treat to be consuming it. In dinner out with my best friend. In chatting about the stuff of life, her hospital stories (she's a nurse), a few of my recent "blond" moments at work. In flipping through some pictures she hadn't seen from a road trip we took together last fall. In the book I'm reading. In the U2 I was playing at work today. In a compliment from my boss.
I met Jesus in lots of little places today, and I'm grateful for the surprising sacred moments.
Saturday sighting
So just as a random, Monday morning story, I thought I’d mention something that I spotted on Saturday.
A group of us were walking along 17th Avenue (the infamous “Red Mile” in Calgary) to get some lunch, and a well-dressed guy in a suit, bigger sort of guy, with a shaved head walks by. Something seems funny, and we all clue in at once. This man, in a suit, walking along a major downtown street, has a very large, very alive snake wrapped around his neck. And he is acting as if it is perfectly normal to do your Saturday afternoon errands with a snake of this sort wrapped around your neck.
I admit that we were rather incredulous, and there was definitely some pointing and exclaiming, as we watched him walk further on, and waited for a light to change so we could cross the street. Somehow, snakes and things just don’t belong on the major downtown street, unless they’re dead and have been made into shoes or bags!
A group of us were walking along 17th Avenue (the infamous “Red Mile” in Calgary) to get some lunch, and a well-dressed guy in a suit, bigger sort of guy, with a shaved head walks by. Something seems funny, and we all clue in at once. This man, in a suit, walking along a major downtown street, has a very large, very alive snake wrapped around his neck. And he is acting as if it is perfectly normal to do your Saturday afternoon errands with a snake of this sort wrapped around your neck.
I admit that we were rather incredulous, and there was definitely some pointing and exclaiming, as we watched him walk further on, and waited for a light to change so we could cross the street. Somehow, snakes and things just don’t belong on the major downtown street, unless they’re dead and have been made into shoes or bags!
Sunday, March 25, 2007
In the tension
I am thinking a lot, lately, about living in the tension between two realities, about being willing to exist in that space, instead of fighting against it in both directions.
I went to the seminar yesterday, and quite enjoyed myself. There was one really awkward moment, as I was walking with the lady who was teaching it, and a bunch of others along a busy downtown street, to pick up some lunch. She asked which sponsoring church I was a part of. I flinched a little, inside. Then I answered very calmly that I wasn't part of any of them. I'd gone to one (and I named it for her to give her context) but I wasn't going there any more, and I said it was a bit of long story. That was it.
But here's why I started this entry by mentioning that I've been thinking about living in tension lately. That's kind of why I left the church in the first place. I was frustrated with the unwillingness, or inability of some people to live with some very clear tensions in the lives of a number of people I was involved in caring for, and in my own life. When it became clear that things weren't going to change for a while, I spent hours and hours in prayer and conversation with a wide variety of people, and left for new spaces with a great deal of peace and rest about the decision, but frustration over the unresolved tensions.
I do not like conflict. I like to solve things. I want to clear them up, and most of the time, I want it to go "my" way. I become very easily convinced of my own "rightness."
So as I was driving to the seminar yesterday, I was praying. (I pray out loud a lot as I drive, especially since I had the car accident in December. I probably look a little like the crazy people I would laugh at as teenagers, talking to themselves, alone in their cars at traffic lights, but I'm okay with that!) I was praying, talking to Jesus about how much I was dreading what I perceived as a situation likely to be very awkward, and I was getting a bit angry that I was finding myself in this situation, and as I was praying, I felt like God was reminding me that I had done everything possible from my end to create resolution in the relationships that were damaged when I left the church, and to speak the things He had laid on my heart. More than that though, I felt like he was asking me how I could expect those I was angry with to live in places of tension that they found hard, if I wasn't myself willing to live in the tension of my obedience to what I felt him speaking, and the resulting relational strains.
So, I sit here today, staring at my computer screen, with candles lit behind me, Jason Upton singing on my stereo, and I resolve again to be willing to live in the tension. To spend tomorrow's time of Lenten fasting seeking the patience necessary for that sort of living in tension. Not just this one relational tension, but the tension of knowing God is calling me out, but that he has also asked me to walk through a season of waiting. Of knowing that God has called me to youth ministry for a time, and knowing that my personality is not always suited to youth ministry. Of knowing that there will be relational tension from time to time as I seek to walk God's path for me. Of knowing that God's path for me is NOT his path for everyone.
The mystery of the kingdom - already and not yet.
I went to the seminar yesterday, and quite enjoyed myself. There was one really awkward moment, as I was walking with the lady who was teaching it, and a bunch of others along a busy downtown street, to pick up some lunch. She asked which sponsoring church I was a part of. I flinched a little, inside. Then I answered very calmly that I wasn't part of any of them. I'd gone to one (and I named it for her to give her context) but I wasn't going there any more, and I said it was a bit of long story. That was it.
But here's why I started this entry by mentioning that I've been thinking about living in tension lately. That's kind of why I left the church in the first place. I was frustrated with the unwillingness, or inability of some people to live with some very clear tensions in the lives of a number of people I was involved in caring for, and in my own life. When it became clear that things weren't going to change for a while, I spent hours and hours in prayer and conversation with a wide variety of people, and left for new spaces with a great deal of peace and rest about the decision, but frustration over the unresolved tensions.
I do not like conflict. I like to solve things. I want to clear them up, and most of the time, I want it to go "my" way. I become very easily convinced of my own "rightness."
So as I was driving to the seminar yesterday, I was praying. (I pray out loud a lot as I drive, especially since I had the car accident in December. I probably look a little like the crazy people I would laugh at as teenagers, talking to themselves, alone in their cars at traffic lights, but I'm okay with that!) I was praying, talking to Jesus about how much I was dreading what I perceived as a situation likely to be very awkward, and I was getting a bit angry that I was finding myself in this situation, and as I was praying, I felt like God was reminding me that I had done everything possible from my end to create resolution in the relationships that were damaged when I left the church, and to speak the things He had laid on my heart. More than that though, I felt like he was asking me how I could expect those I was angry with to live in places of tension that they found hard, if I wasn't myself willing to live in the tension of my obedience to what I felt him speaking, and the resulting relational strains.
So, I sit here today, staring at my computer screen, with candles lit behind me, Jason Upton singing on my stereo, and I resolve again to be willing to live in the tension. To spend tomorrow's time of Lenten fasting seeking the patience necessary for that sort of living in tension. Not just this one relational tension, but the tension of knowing God is calling me out, but that he has also asked me to walk through a season of waiting. Of knowing that God has called me to youth ministry for a time, and knowing that my personality is not always suited to youth ministry. Of knowing that there will be relational tension from time to time as I seek to walk God's path for me. Of knowing that God's path for me is NOT his path for everyone.
The mystery of the kingdom - already and not yet.
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