- 250 days of Daily 5's
- 22 years of journeying with Jesus
- 1 year of eating 3 meals a day
- a treatment tonight from a new practitioner. I'll definitely feel a bit more comfortable with this one, I think.
- Wendys for supper with my dad
- thinking about fun plans for the weekend
- filtered water
- having a car to drive
- finished the "Stuff Christians Like" audiobook and found it hilarious. Also started a new audiobook.
- listened to a great sermon by Shane Hipps on the John 4 story of the woman at the well
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Daily 5 - Day 250
Today's Daily 5:
Leaving Church
Yesterday I linked to Donald Miller's article on leaving church.
Today, Pete Wilson is also talking about leaving church.
It's not an easy topic, and, as a pastor's kid, I've seen it from several angles.
I've seen the acrimonious church split from the inside.
I've seen the people come who are enthused, and then leave a few years later, because they've decided that something just won't do, and it's never their fault either.
It's never easy to watch someone you've cared about leave. Especially as a pastor's kid in a small church when they're leaving because they're angry at something your dad did or didn't do. How do you navigate your friendship with that person vs. their anger at someone dear to you?
And it's weird to negotiate those relationships later on, too. I ran into someone recently who had been a youth leader when I was a young teenager. She'd lived with our family for a time, as well. My dad had conducted their wedding, and my brother was their ring-bearer. And then, she and her husband left, angry at dad, over what I'm not even sure. My dad worked to shield my brothers and I from some of that drama. I've run into her from time to time over the years, and she's always been overly friendly. An almost fake, over-compensating sort of friendly. (Or at least that's my perception of it.) It's a weird thing - to negotiate this relationship that I consider quite damaged, and non-existent, while she's busy ignoring the history and the turmoil that she caused. I saw her again just last weekend, and it was the same. So odd.
I've left a church or two.
I've left the church that my dad pastors. Twice.
And I left a church that was home during a period of dramatic change and healing in my life.
I left dad's church the first time because I needed space - I was in the midst of a serious depression, and I needed to figure out this God thing without the incredible, watchful pressure that exists on a pastor's kid in a rather small congregation. It's not easy to be watched, held up as "the example" when you're not even sure you believe anymore. I needed to make that "do I actually believe this, or is it just because my parents told me so" journey.
I left the second time because, after returning for what was supposed to be a short stay, I'd stayed too long. The move that was supposed to make it a short stay didn't materialize, and the smaller reasons I'd left in the first place - lack of peers, some theological disagreements, and the ongoing pastor's kid expectations, really hadn't changed. It was also a season where I'd been deeply wounded by church and some close christian friends, and I needed a season of healing, away from prying eyes.
I left the church that had been home in between those stays at dad's church with many tears. I loved that place and the people there, but I felt cornered and unheard. My concerns seemed to be dismissed. I prayed and stayed, offering my voice wherever possible, but there came a time when God made it clear that it was time, now, to move on. I left hoping that I could maintain some relationships that meant a lot there. A few lasted, most did not.
It's not an easy topic, but I've appreciated the words of both Donald Miller and Pete Wilson on the topic these last couple days, and the various thoughts they've both stirred within me.
Today, Pete Wilson is also talking about leaving church.
It's not an easy topic, and, as a pastor's kid, I've seen it from several angles.
I've seen the acrimonious church split from the inside.
I've seen the people come who are enthused, and then leave a few years later, because they've decided that something just won't do, and it's never their fault either.
It's never easy to watch someone you've cared about leave. Especially as a pastor's kid in a small church when they're leaving because they're angry at something your dad did or didn't do. How do you navigate your friendship with that person vs. their anger at someone dear to you?
And it's weird to negotiate those relationships later on, too. I ran into someone recently who had been a youth leader when I was a young teenager. She'd lived with our family for a time, as well. My dad had conducted their wedding, and my brother was their ring-bearer. And then, she and her husband left, angry at dad, over what I'm not even sure. My dad worked to shield my brothers and I from some of that drama. I've run into her from time to time over the years, and she's always been overly friendly. An almost fake, over-compensating sort of friendly. (Or at least that's my perception of it.) It's a weird thing - to negotiate this relationship that I consider quite damaged, and non-existent, while she's busy ignoring the history and the turmoil that she caused. I saw her again just last weekend, and it was the same. So odd.
I've left a church or two.
I've left the church that my dad pastors. Twice.
And I left a church that was home during a period of dramatic change and healing in my life.
I left dad's church the first time because I needed space - I was in the midst of a serious depression, and I needed to figure out this God thing without the incredible, watchful pressure that exists on a pastor's kid in a rather small congregation. It's not easy to be watched, held up as "the example" when you're not even sure you believe anymore. I needed to make that "do I actually believe this, or is it just because my parents told me so" journey.
I left the second time because, after returning for what was supposed to be a short stay, I'd stayed too long. The move that was supposed to make it a short stay didn't materialize, and the smaller reasons I'd left in the first place - lack of peers, some theological disagreements, and the ongoing pastor's kid expectations, really hadn't changed. It was also a season where I'd been deeply wounded by church and some close christian friends, and I needed a season of healing, away from prying eyes.
I left the church that had been home in between those stays at dad's church with many tears. I loved that place and the people there, but I felt cornered and unheard. My concerns seemed to be dismissed. I prayed and stayed, offering my voice wherever possible, but there came a time when God made it clear that it was time, now, to move on. I left hoping that I could maintain some relationships that meant a lot there. A few lasted, most did not.
It's not an easy topic, but I've appreciated the words of both Donald Miller and Pete Wilson on the topic these last couple days, and the various thoughts they've both stirred within me.
22 Years (and 1 Year)
When we were kids, once a year, we celebrated what our parents referred to as our "special birthday". Essentially, they kept track of the day that we committed our lives to Christ, and honored that day once a year, reminding us of that moment.
It was 22 years ago today for me. I was four. To be honest, I think what I remember most is kneeling on the ugly, dark brown shag carpet that marked our living room in those days, next to the scratchy couch I'd been sitting on only moments before. I know my mom was near me. I've been told that there was a change in personality, that I'd wake joyfully in the coming days.
But I was four, and a lot of life has come between that moment and now.
A lot of questions. A lot of recommitments.
And yet, every year April 20th arrives, and I can't help but think, "It's been such and such a number of years since I met Jesus."
Because in spite of all the years of questions. The mental illness. The depression and anxiety. The bitterness. The resentments and desire to wander. The years of really challenging, faith-shaking moments. In spite of all those things, Jesus just never left. I didn't always see or sense him as I journeyed, but looking back I see him clearly. And he just never left. Even in the moments I wanted Him too, begged Him too. He just never left. 22 years ago today I invited Him to spend my life with me, and yes, I was four, and couldn't grasp the full ramifications of that invitation, couldn't know the many things to come, but He began to walk so closely with me, and He's never left. And 22 years of that is sort of worth remembering, I think.
~~~
One year ago today I'd just returned from a trip east to spend a few days with a very dear friend. I'd been in very dark places for the year or so preceding that trip, and she knew it, and told me to come anyway. I don't think I'll ever forget the conversations and moments we shared that weekend.
I returned with a renewed committment to somehow find life again. To ruthlessly, viciously choose life and joy instead of their alternatives. I returned with her words, quoting Deuteronomy and God, ringing in my ears, "I have set before you death and life, blessings and curses, now choose life..."
One year ago today I ate three meals for the first time in years. I started the process of combatting what was essentially an eating disorder that I'd developed as I walked through some dark and intense stresses emotionally, relationally and professionally. My world had fallen apart and I'd stopped eating because I felt ill all the time. I'd lost nearly 25 pounds after months of nausea from the stress, and I rarely ate more than 1 meal and a few snacks a day. And during that season, I'd often felt, too, the call to fast. From chocolate for weeks at a time. From all food for a day or two here and there. Between fasting and nausea, food wasn't exactly a high priority.
Tonight, at supper, I'll celebrated 365 days of eating three times a day. Of taking vitamins and supplements that I believe have drastically helped balance out my body and begin restoring the reserves that the preceding years of intense stress had so depleted.
This has been a year's journey with Jesus too. Of praying without the physical reminders of fasting that I'd sometimes come to rely on. Of trusting him to heal and restore my exhausted and depleted body. Of hoping and believing for the redemption of the many, many broken things that surrounded me. Of conciously choosing, in different ways, life and joy. Of counting progress day by day. Marking meals with stickers in a little calendar in my purse. Celebrating when I hit 10 days and 30 days and 90 days.
When I was out East a year ago, my friend gave me a calendar full of quotations from female saints. I chuckled as I returned home and opened it. I remember distinctly reading the quote that appears for yesterday, partly because of it's deep relevance to my journey at the time, and partly because it was the words of St. Clare of Assisi, a favorite saint of mine, one whose medal I wear most days on a little silver chain around my neck as a reminder of some deep moments with God. I smiled again as I glanced at the calendar this morning. I haven't yet turned today, but the quote seems somehow appropriate to round out this celebration of 22 years and 1 year, somehow appropriate as I look forward at the coming year, and desire to continue to choose life and joy. Clare writes, "Melancholy is the poison of devotion. When one is in tribulation, it is necessary to be more happy and more joyful because one is nearer to God."
It was 22 years ago today for me. I was four. To be honest, I think what I remember most is kneeling on the ugly, dark brown shag carpet that marked our living room in those days, next to the scratchy couch I'd been sitting on only moments before. I know my mom was near me. I've been told that there was a change in personality, that I'd wake joyfully in the coming days.
But I was four, and a lot of life has come between that moment and now.
A lot of questions. A lot of recommitments.
And yet, every year April 20th arrives, and I can't help but think, "It's been such and such a number of years since I met Jesus."
Because in spite of all the years of questions. The mental illness. The depression and anxiety. The bitterness. The resentments and desire to wander. The years of really challenging, faith-shaking moments. In spite of all those things, Jesus just never left. I didn't always see or sense him as I journeyed, but looking back I see him clearly. And he just never left. Even in the moments I wanted Him too, begged Him too. He just never left. 22 years ago today I invited Him to spend my life with me, and yes, I was four, and couldn't grasp the full ramifications of that invitation, couldn't know the many things to come, but He began to walk so closely with me, and He's never left. And 22 years of that is sort of worth remembering, I think.
~~~
One year ago today I'd just returned from a trip east to spend a few days with a very dear friend. I'd been in very dark places for the year or so preceding that trip, and she knew it, and told me to come anyway. I don't think I'll ever forget the conversations and moments we shared that weekend.
I returned with a renewed committment to somehow find life again. To ruthlessly, viciously choose life and joy instead of their alternatives. I returned with her words, quoting Deuteronomy and God, ringing in my ears, "I have set before you death and life, blessings and curses, now choose life..."
One year ago today I ate three meals for the first time in years. I started the process of combatting what was essentially an eating disorder that I'd developed as I walked through some dark and intense stresses emotionally, relationally and professionally. My world had fallen apart and I'd stopped eating because I felt ill all the time. I'd lost nearly 25 pounds after months of nausea from the stress, and I rarely ate more than 1 meal and a few snacks a day. And during that season, I'd often felt, too, the call to fast. From chocolate for weeks at a time. From all food for a day or two here and there. Between fasting and nausea, food wasn't exactly a high priority.
Tonight, at supper, I'll celebrated 365 days of eating three times a day. Of taking vitamins and supplements that I believe have drastically helped balance out my body and begin restoring the reserves that the preceding years of intense stress had so depleted.
This has been a year's journey with Jesus too. Of praying without the physical reminders of fasting that I'd sometimes come to rely on. Of trusting him to heal and restore my exhausted and depleted body. Of hoping and believing for the redemption of the many, many broken things that surrounded me. Of conciously choosing, in different ways, life and joy. Of counting progress day by day. Marking meals with stickers in a little calendar in my purse. Celebrating when I hit 10 days and 30 days and 90 days.
When I was out East a year ago, my friend gave me a calendar full of quotations from female saints. I chuckled as I returned home and opened it. I remember distinctly reading the quote that appears for yesterday, partly because of it's deep relevance to my journey at the time, and partly because it was the words of St. Clare of Assisi, a favorite saint of mine, one whose medal I wear most days on a little silver chain around my neck as a reminder of some deep moments with God. I smiled again as I glanced at the calendar this morning. I haven't yet turned today, but the quote seems somehow appropriate to round out this celebration of 22 years and 1 year, somehow appropriate as I look forward at the coming year, and desire to continue to choose life and joy. Clare writes, "Melancholy is the poison of devotion. When one is in tribulation, it is necessary to be more happy and more joyful because one is nearer to God."
Monday, April 19, 2010
Daily 5 - Day 249
For those who are curious, the background to the daily 5 can be found here.
Today's Daily 5:
Today's Daily 5:
- Watching old episodes of ER on DVD
- The funny little routines that have come to mark life at Grandma's
- My dad unexpectedly having time to take my car to the mechanic for me today, instead of tomorrow as we'd planned, and calling me at work to offer to take care of that for me.
- My "new" car passed the insurance inspection - I just have to fax in the paperwork tomorrow and it's all official. Now I just need a name for it!
- A mechanic who is very kind in what he charges me for - because he had done maintenance on the car for the previous owner, he didn't charge me for the inspection, just the oil change he also did today at my request. I also love that he's really honest - he'll tell me if something is wrong with the car, and then he'll tell me if it needs to be fixed right away, or if it's something that can just be watched for the time-being. It's so nice as a less than car savvy girl to have a mechanic who I know and trust. I'd be in so much trouble if I ever move away from Calgary and my mechanic - I'm definitely the biggest target around when it comes to being dumb about car stuff!
- I made pasta for dinner tonight and froze 4 meals. It made enough for my supper tonight, lunch tomorrow, and four frozen meals. Cooking for one is a pain, but if I can store a few favorite meals like this in the freezer, it should help with combating the less than healthy eating habits that have reared their ugly head since my arrival in Grandma's house. I'm hoping to freeze a few other meals over the coming weeks, sort of cooking a "normal" sized (i.e. not for one person) meal, and then freezing several portions for work lunches or suppers on those nights when cooking is just too time consuming. I'd specifically like to make some mini lasagna's to take out and pop in the oven. The freezing thing works well for me, too, since I don't like to eat a ton of leftovers. If I can pull it out in a couple of weeks, it's so much more likely to not get wasted.
- I'm still really enjoying the audio book, "Stuff Christians Like" that I've been listening to most recently. It's brought a lot of smiles as I've been sitting on the train and bus listening. It's also the free audio book of the month on Christianaudio.com
- I'm loving the book, "Jesus Freak" by Sara Miles that I've been reading as well.
- Filtered water for drinking (from a glass bottle)
- Watching a couple of movies in the background on my laptop in the last day or so, as I've been working on other stuff.
Great Article by Bono
It's no secret that I'm a fan of U2, not just for their music, but for Bono's work to use his fame as currency and raise awareness of the major issues of poverty and social injustice in our time.
He wrote a great Op-Ed piece for the New York times recently. Definitely worth the few minutes it will take to read it, if only for the fact that it presents hope.
He wrote a great Op-Ed piece for the New York times recently. Definitely worth the few minutes it will take to read it, if only for the fact that it presents hope.
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