Grounding Myself Again

I'm sitting here in the dark, only the light of my laptop screen and a small candle burning behind me. I'm sipping mango-tangerine juice, and trying to figure out how to start this post. In the background, U2 plays.

I've been listening to U2 a lot again lately. I go through cycles of needing just that sort of music.

I've been reading Anne Lamott again this last week or so. This is my second or third time through "Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith". I read Anne Lamott when I need to be grounded. I read her when what I need more desperately than anything is the assurance that a life lived in relationship with Jesus, a spiritual life is not about angelic perfection. Instead, it is earthy, messy, confusing, and very, very normal. Spirituality in the smallest of moments, the little things, long walks and a hug from a friend. I read Anne Lamott when I need to be reassured that somewhere out there, there are wild, fun, irreverent people, who love Jesus desperately, meet Him intelligently, but also simply.

I listen to U2 for these same sorts of reasons.

Because somehow, when I read Lamott's books, or listen to U2 play, my heart quiets and begins to pray again.

So this last week and a bit I've been basking in the comfort of U2 and Anne Lamott, sometimes together, sometimes apart. I've needed to reground myself again lately, in the face of the stuff of life. And to find again the truth that Jesus really loves the very messy, ugly, normal moments of daily life, and will meet with me in them, usually when I least expect it.

My world tonight

I wanted to post a whole bunch of pictures for you tonight, but blogger isn't letting me rotate the ones I took vertically. Go figure.
So, here's a few pictures just for the moment.

These are my hot pink crocs. A Christmas gift from my brothers, and they make me smile every day. Plus, they're quite possibly the most comfortable footwear I've ever owned. I wear them as slippers, for padding around our house, since all of our floors are hardwood.





This is just one of two bookshelves in my room, built by my dad. I keep all of my favorite books in my room, and the rest of them on yet another bookshelf downstairs.









This is the candle that our contact at the hotel gave me as a thank you for our business, and the work that I did planning the conference over the weekend. It smells like citrus.










This is my suitcase from the weekend. I hate unpacking. I mostly hate packing too, but a bag that needs to be unpacked can sit on my bedroom floor for a couple of weeks.










This is Kari and I, in our hotel room over the weekend. It was great to have time to just hang out, to relax, to enjoy time together.






Like I said, I had quite a few more photos that I wanted to show you. The little things that surround me every day and make up my world, but for now, these will have to do. See you soon!

Tenebrae - An Invitation

Hey All,
I don’t know if any of you have plans for Good Friday this week (and a few of you I’ve already told about this), but thought I’d invite you join me attending a very unique and meditative service.

The service is being put on by the church that I’m a part of, and is called “Tenebrae: A Meditation on Shadows”. It is a meditative service that originated in the 4th century, that combines music, scripture and drama to create an atmosphere that will allow you to focus deeply on the events that led to the crucifixion. I have been part of this service once before, many years ago, and found it immensely powerful. I’m quite looking forward to taking part in it again.

If you’re interested in attending, here are the details:
Where: L’Ecole St. Gerard (elementary school) in the school gymnasium (1204 – 96th Avenue SW)
When: Good Friday (April 6, 2007) 10:30 a.m.

Let me know if you want more details. Like I said, I’m quite excited to be taking part in this service again, and expect it to be a powerful time of reflection on the events leading to the cross, and on the suffering of Christ. I’d love it if some of you would like to join me.

Lisa

Off for the weekend

Well, the conference I've been helping plan for work for the last two months is here, and I leave the office at eleven to head home and pick up my bags, meet Kari (who's coming as my "spouse" for the weekend) and head out to the hotel and take care of the last minute sorts of details.

It'll probably be pretty quiet here until Monday or so, since I'm not sure I'll have internet access, or time to write while I'm away.

See you then.

Oh, and if you want something great to read, go to Faye's blog (in my links) and read here post about "Garbage-Picker God." A great tale of redemption.

I'm Tired...

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.