I’m becoming increasingly convinced that I need to carve dedicated time out of my daily schedule for study. While I have found it very helpful and encouraging over the years to spend 10 or 15 minutes devotionally reading scripture before going to bed at night, and have no intention of changing that habit, in the last while I have become convinced that I need to spend far more time working my way through the word of God.
It has become clear to me that to continue to walk into the things God is calling me to, I must devote greater time to study, to seeking him in his word, and in the works of other believers through the centuries, to prayer and meditation.
I am particularly convicted that in order to continue building relationship with the young people that I work with at church, to continue inviting them into deeper things of the Spirit, I must cultivate those deeper things in my own life, via my relationship with Christ, and with time spent in study and contemplation.
Especially in these next few weeks, I am feeling the pull to study. We are holding our first ever church youth retreat on the weekend of May 11th and 12th, and while I don’t yet know if I will be doing some of the teaching, I feel very convicted of the need to prepare myself for that time. I am sensing that it could be a quite significant time in the formation of our group of young people, and I want to spend the time over the next two weeks listening to the Spirit of God, and preparing my own heart in order to be available as the Spirit leads over the course of that weekend. I think I may fast for a few days leading up to the retreat, and possibly over the course of the time away as well.
All of this seems foreign to me. Not so very long ago I would have described a dedicated amount of study time, and fasting as a very legalistic method designed to try and manipulate God into providing what I want. And yet, I am suddenly pulled by the Spirit to do these things.
So, what this amounts to in my life is a determination to set aside a minimum of an hour for study and prayer, at least five times over the course of this week, and five times over the course of the next week. If this means I need to change some of my daily scheduled activities, or curtail some social activities for a few weeks, I’m okay with that. If it means that I have to get out of bed earlier, or stay up a bit later and sacrifice sleep, I’m okay with that, too. Pray for me as I work to prepare my heart for the time away with our youth. Pray for me as I meet with the pastor I work with tomorrow night to determine the topic and details of the weekend, and to make the decisions surrounding which of us (or both of us) will be doing the teaching.
Monday, April 30, 2007
More of Nouwen on the Value of Writing
From some emails that were waiting for me this morning by Henri Nouwen.
Writing, Opening a Deep Well
Writing is not just jotting down ideas. Often we say: "I don't know what to write. I have no thoughts worth writing down." But much good writing emerges from the process of writing itself. As we simply sit down in front of a sheet of paper and start to express in words what is on our minds or in our hearts, new ideas emerge, ideas that can surprise us and lead us to inner places we hardly knew were there.
One of the most satisfying aspects of writing is that it can open in us deep wells of hidden treasures that are beautiful for us as well as for others to see.
Making Our Lives Available to Others
One of the arguments we often use for not writing is this: "I have nothing original to say. Whatever I might say, someone else has already said it, and better than I will ever be able to." This, however, is not a good argument for not writing. Each human person is unique and original, and nobody has lived what we have lived. Furthermore, what we have lived, we have lived not just for ourselves but for others as well. Writing can be a very creative and invigorating way to make our lives available to ourselves and to others.
We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told. We may discover that the better we tell our stories the better we will want to live them.
Writing, Opening a Deep Well
Writing is not just jotting down ideas. Often we say: "I don't know what to write. I have no thoughts worth writing down." But much good writing emerges from the process of writing itself. As we simply sit down in front of a sheet of paper and start to express in words what is on our minds or in our hearts, new ideas emerge, ideas that can surprise us and lead us to inner places we hardly knew were there.
One of the most satisfying aspects of writing is that it can open in us deep wells of hidden treasures that are beautiful for us as well as for others to see.
Making Our Lives Available to Others
One of the arguments we often use for not writing is this: "I have nothing original to say. Whatever I might say, someone else has already said it, and better than I will ever be able to." This, however, is not a good argument for not writing. Each human person is unique and original, and nobody has lived what we have lived. Furthermore, what we have lived, we have lived not just for ourselves but for others as well. Writing can be a very creative and invigorating way to make our lives available to ourselves and to others.
We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told. We may discover that the better we tell our stories the better we will want to live them.
News Updates
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Grace (Eventually)
If you only read one of the two posts I've put up today, don't read this one. The previous one is much more important to my actual life.
Those of you who know me, know that I love to read Anne Lamott's writing. That she refreshes and encourages me in my encounter with faith and Jesus. I was quite delighted to learn about a month ago that she was releasing a new book of essays on faith (whose title I have unashamedly borrowed to title this post), and even more delighted when I discovered that the public library already had copies. As soon as I got my hands on it, I began to read, and what I found this time disappointed me. I think I mentioned that in a previous post. Instead of encouragement this time, I found what felt like mostly diatribe, the same sort of, "I'm right and everyone else is wrong" point of view that so frustrates Lamott about those of a more politically and spiritually conservative perspective than her own.
While I didn't enjoy this book nearly as much as "Travelling Mercies" or "Plan B", there were still a few lines I flagged, lines that made me stop and take notice. I thought I'd share a few of those lines here.
"I wish that grace and healing were more abracadabra kinds of things; also, that delicate silver bells would ring to announce grace’s arrival. But no, it’s clog and slog and scotch, on the floor, in silence, in the dark." (pg. 50-51)
"Lies cannot nourish or protect you. Only freedom from fear, freedom from lies, can make us beautiful, and keep us safe. There is a line I try to live by, spoken at the end of each Vedanta service: ‘And may the free make others free.’" (pg. 74)
"Reading and books are medicine. Stories are written and told by and for people who have been broken, but who have risen up, or will rise, if attention is paid to them. Those people are you and us. Stories and truth are splints for the soul…" (pg. 154)
There you have it, a few of the better lines from a book that don't particularly recommend, from someone who is generally one of my favorite authors.
Those of you who know me, know that I love to read Anne Lamott's writing. That she refreshes and encourages me in my encounter with faith and Jesus. I was quite delighted to learn about a month ago that she was releasing a new book of essays on faith (whose title I have unashamedly borrowed to title this post), and even more delighted when I discovered that the public library already had copies. As soon as I got my hands on it, I began to read, and what I found this time disappointed me. I think I mentioned that in a previous post. Instead of encouragement this time, I found what felt like mostly diatribe, the same sort of, "I'm right and everyone else is wrong" point of view that so frustrates Lamott about those of a more politically and spiritually conservative perspective than her own.
While I didn't enjoy this book nearly as much as "Travelling Mercies" or "Plan B", there were still a few lines I flagged, lines that made me stop and take notice. I thought I'd share a few of those lines here.
"I wish that grace and healing were more abracadabra kinds of things; also, that delicate silver bells would ring to announce grace’s arrival. But no, it’s clog and slog and scotch, on the floor, in silence, in the dark." (pg. 50-51)
"Lies cannot nourish or protect you. Only freedom from fear, freedom from lies, can make us beautiful, and keep us safe. There is a line I try to live by, spoken at the end of each Vedanta service: ‘And may the free make others free.’" (pg. 74)
"Reading and books are medicine. Stories are written and told by and for people who have been broken, but who have risen up, or will rise, if attention is paid to them. Those people are you and us. Stories and truth are splints for the soul…" (pg. 154)
There you have it, a few of the better lines from a book that don't particularly recommend, from someone who is generally one of my favorite authors.
Dreaming of Incan Ruins...
It's been an interesting weekend, some of which is just for me to internalize, and some of which will probably be unpacked here over the coming days and weeks. I was away from Friday night until close to midnight last night, and that was great, very needed. I took advantage of my one Sunday off a month and stayed home from church this morning, knowing I needed time to speak directly with Jesus, instead of listening to someone else speak about Him, and just hang out for a bit, and do some processing.
As I was reading and praying, I was surprised by how rapidly I met with Jesus, and I ended up writing the following journal entry. I thought I'd share it here...
I’m dreaming of Peru this morning, as I sit curled in my favorite chair in the living room, wrapped in a blanket, with the echo of the clock ticking in the kitchen behind me, loudly reminding me that the house is empty, and that this is my time of communion, of Sabbath, and retreat.
We spoke of my desire to travel to Peru at dinner last night. Darlene asked what held my heart and I couldn’t answer directly. Peru has had a hold on me since I was a small child, fascinated with the doll my parents had brought home with me, the toy llama made with real llama wool, with the Spanish nickname that had traveled with me from South America, and become the term of endearment my dad used to refer to me, and with the stories of the people who loved this little blond-haired, blue-eyed baby that they carried with them through the city. I loved the young woman from the church there who immigrated to Canada, and adopted me as her friend – my Eliana, a woman who had played with me as a baby, in another country, on another continent.
And then, I watched, “The Motorcycle Diaries” and I was captivated again by the beauty of this continent, by the beauty of a specific spot in Peru. I began to hear whispers in my heart that I didn’t understand, telling me I needed to travel to Machu Picchu and simply be. To sit and pray, to seek the heart of God in this most ancient of places.
And so, this morning, after everyone left for church and I headed out to the living room to spend some time reading, studying and praying, I began to read in the Psalms, making notes in the margin as I often do when bits and pieces speak to my heart. I read for several chapters before encountering a passage that stopped me in my tracks. As I read, I heard the whisper of the Spirit – this is it. This is the word that you will someday speak over the beautiful ruins of Machu Picchu. David writes:
Open up, ancient gates!
Open up, ancient doors,
and let the King of glory enter.
Who is the King of glory?
The Lord, strong and mighty;
the Lord, invincible in battle.
Open up, ancient gates!
Open up, ancient doors,
and let the King of glory enter.
Who is this King of glory?
The Lord of Heaven’s Armies –
he is the King of glory.
(Psalm 24:7-10)
I went back, and watched again the simple and yet majestic scenes of Machu Picchu in “The Motorcycle Diaries”. And as I watched I knew even more strongly that one day I will have the opportunity to declare in this most ancient place the King of glory.
I have heard people talk about spiritual gateways, about ancient places that hold significance for the kingdom of God. And I wonder if I have unknowingly stumbled upon one of these places. A place of beauty, of creation that groans for redemption by the King. Later, I intend to do some reading and research on the history of Peru, of the Incans, of Machu Picchu.
And so, I sit here and pray for that moment when I will stand in that place. I pray even now that the ancient gates and doors will be opened. I pray for this country that my heart loves, though I remember nothing of the time there. And I know that every time I read Psalm 24, I will know something of the voice of God, speaking over a nation in the heart of South America.
As I was reading and praying, I was surprised by how rapidly I met with Jesus, and I ended up writing the following journal entry. I thought I'd share it here...
I’m dreaming of Peru this morning, as I sit curled in my favorite chair in the living room, wrapped in a blanket, with the echo of the clock ticking in the kitchen behind me, loudly reminding me that the house is empty, and that this is my time of communion, of Sabbath, and retreat.
We spoke of my desire to travel to Peru at dinner last night. Darlene asked what held my heart and I couldn’t answer directly. Peru has had a hold on me since I was a small child, fascinated with the doll my parents had brought home with me, the toy llama made with real llama wool, with the Spanish nickname that had traveled with me from South America, and become the term of endearment my dad used to refer to me, and with the stories of the people who loved this little blond-haired, blue-eyed baby that they carried with them through the city. I loved the young woman from the church there who immigrated to Canada, and adopted me as her friend – my Eliana, a woman who had played with me as a baby, in another country, on another continent.
And then, I watched, “The Motorcycle Diaries” and I was captivated again by the beauty of this continent, by the beauty of a specific spot in Peru. I began to hear whispers in my heart that I didn’t understand, telling me I needed to travel to Machu Picchu and simply be. To sit and pray, to seek the heart of God in this most ancient of places.
And so, this morning, after everyone left for church and I headed out to the living room to spend some time reading, studying and praying, I began to read in the Psalms, making notes in the margin as I often do when bits and pieces speak to my heart. I read for several chapters before encountering a passage that stopped me in my tracks. As I read, I heard the whisper of the Spirit – this is it. This is the word that you will someday speak over the beautiful ruins of Machu Picchu. David writes:
Open up, ancient gates!
Open up, ancient doors,
and let the King of glory enter.
Who is the King of glory?
The Lord, strong and mighty;
the Lord, invincible in battle.
Open up, ancient gates!
Open up, ancient doors,
and let the King of glory enter.
Who is this King of glory?
The Lord of Heaven’s Armies –
he is the King of glory.
(Psalm 24:7-10)
I went back, and watched again the simple and yet majestic scenes of Machu Picchu in “The Motorcycle Diaries”. And as I watched I knew even more strongly that one day I will have the opportunity to declare in this most ancient place the King of glory.
I have heard people talk about spiritual gateways, about ancient places that hold significance for the kingdom of God. And I wonder if I have unknowingly stumbled upon one of these places. A place of beauty, of creation that groans for redemption by the King. Later, I intend to do some reading and research on the history of Peru, of the Incans, of Machu Picchu.
And so, I sit here and pray for that moment when I will stand in that place. I pray even now that the ancient gates and doors will be opened. I pray for this country that my heart loves, though I remember nothing of the time there. And I know that every time I read Psalm 24, I will know something of the voice of God, speaking over a nation in the heart of South America.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Soundtrack - Take 2
Just because I had fun keeping track yesterday, I did it again today. These are the albums that followed me through my workday today:
Bob Bennett – The View From Here
Caedmon’s Call – 40 Acres
Carrie Underwood – Some Hearts
David Ruis – Every Move I Make
Jacob Moon - Landing
Bob Bennett – The View From Here
Caedmon’s Call – 40 Acres
Carrie Underwood – Some Hearts
David Ruis – Every Move I Make
Jacob Moon - Landing
Writing for Redemption
Once again I received emailed words of wisdom from Henri Nouwen, and I'm passing them along to you.
Writing to Save the Day
Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others who might read what we write.
Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be "redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we can claim what we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others too.
Writing to Save the Day
Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others who might read what we write.
Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be "redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we can claim what we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others too.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Soundtrack for My Workday
These are the albums I've played today, in the order I listened to them, thanks to my handy-dandy ipod!
Karla Adolphe - Come Home
Jack Johnson - In Between Dreams
Jacob & Lily - The Cathedral Project
Jason Upton - Trusting the Angels
Kendall Payne - Grown
Rik Leaf - Now is the Winter of Our Discontent
And with that, I have a few things left to do in the little over an hour that remains until my workday draws to a close.
Church leadership meeting tonight, work tomorrow, and then the WEEKEND!
Karla Adolphe - Come Home
Jack Johnson - In Between Dreams
Jacob & Lily - The Cathedral Project
Jason Upton - Trusting the Angels
Kendall Payne - Grown
Rik Leaf - Now is the Winter of Our Discontent
And with that, I have a few things left to do in the little over an hour that remains until my workday draws to a close.
Church leadership meeting tonight, work tomorrow, and then the WEEKEND!
The News
Part of my daily routine on work days involves a trip through the news headlines, local, national, American, international. I tease Kari for her fascination with newspapers, but admit that I regularly check headlines at home, and spend at least half an hour or so most mornings working my way through various articles.
So, in honor of that, here are links to a couple of articles that caught my eye today:
Because I'm invested in the outcome of the dispute between the city and the transit union, I found this one interesting. Apparently the earliest that I'll need to seek alternate transportation is May 7th.
Because I think young people need to care about national and international issues, because I've had a fascination with Justin Trudeau since he delivered a moving eulogy for his father, and because, if I lived in his riding, I'd probably vote for him, this one caught my eye.
I follow up my trip through the news with a trip through the blogs on my sidebar, plus a few others, and I have a blog post to recommend to you as well.
I liked the thought that Cameron Conant posted here. Remember that he wants to.
See you around!
So, in honor of that, here are links to a couple of articles that caught my eye today:
Because I'm invested in the outcome of the dispute between the city and the transit union, I found this one interesting. Apparently the earliest that I'll need to seek alternate transportation is May 7th.
Because I think young people need to care about national and international issues, because I've had a fascination with Justin Trudeau since he delivered a moving eulogy for his father, and because, if I lived in his riding, I'd probably vote for him, this one caught my eye.
I follow up my trip through the news with a trip through the blogs on my sidebar, plus a few others, and I have a blog post to recommend to you as well.
I liked the thought that Cameron Conant posted here. Remember that he wants to.
See you around!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Impending Strike
Calgary Transit is once again considering the merits of going on strike. I have to say, I don't have an opinion one way or the other on the union's complaints, I'm just annoyed that I am now in the process of making contingency plans - figuring out how the heck I'm going to get to and from work every day should the strike actually happen.
Last I heard they're trying to schedule a strike vote for Tuesday, after which they have to give 72 hours notice before beginning to strike. Apparently they may try other job action first, but who knows? I heard one of the things they might try is wearing street clothes instead of their uniforms - because it makes a huge difference in how they drive the bus or train if they're wearing jeans instead of ugly grey pants.
All of this has got me thinking about my forthcoming purchase of a car. I wasn't actually planning to start seriously looking until July, but now, who knows? I was scanning my way through used car ads online at lunch, and found some possibilities, though I don't yet have all the money in my budgeted range. I may try and convince my parents that it would be more convenient for them to loan me the rest of the money I would need to buy a car than it would be to drive me to and from work, or give up one of their cars every day so I can drive myself.
So, if anyone knows of a good deal on a reliable car without excessive mileage, an automatic (this is very important, as anyone who followed the blog and my adventures in trying to learn to drive a standard will know), that will get me around the city, and let me make some weekend trips to see friends and to the mountains, let me know. Particularly if the car is green - it would make my friend Rae very prophetic if I end up with a green car (a bit of a joke, a bit serious, from a conversation and prayer time we had about eight months ago).
Last I heard they're trying to schedule a strike vote for Tuesday, after which they have to give 72 hours notice before beginning to strike. Apparently they may try other job action first, but who knows? I heard one of the things they might try is wearing street clothes instead of their uniforms - because it makes a huge difference in how they drive the bus or train if they're wearing jeans instead of ugly grey pants.
All of this has got me thinking about my forthcoming purchase of a car. I wasn't actually planning to start seriously looking until July, but now, who knows? I was scanning my way through used car ads online at lunch, and found some possibilities, though I don't yet have all the money in my budgeted range. I may try and convince my parents that it would be more convenient for them to loan me the rest of the money I would need to buy a car than it would be to drive me to and from work, or give up one of their cars every day so I can drive myself.
So, if anyone knows of a good deal on a reliable car without excessive mileage, an automatic (this is very important, as anyone who followed the blog and my adventures in trying to learn to drive a standard will know), that will get me around the city, and let me make some weekend trips to see friends and to the mountains, let me know. Particularly if the car is green - it would make my friend Rae very prophetic if I end up with a green car (a bit of a joke, a bit serious, from a conversation and prayer time we had about eight months ago).
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
On a Mission
In between running back and forth from my desk to a printer in the filing room behind my desk, feeding it envelopes 10 or 15 at a time, I thought I'd share these thoughts on the whole of life as "mission" that arrived in my email from the Henri Nouwen society this morning.
Fulfilling a Mission
When we live our lives as missions, we become aware that there is a home from where we are sent and to where we have to return. We start thinking about ourselves as people who are in a faraway country to bring a message or work on a project, but only for a certain amount of time. When the message has been delivered and the project is finished, we want to return home to give an account of our mission and to rest from our labours.
One of the most important spiritual disciplines is to develop the knowledge that the years of our lives are years "on a mission."
Fulfilling a Mission
When we live our lives as missions, we become aware that there is a home from where we are sent and to where we have to return. We start thinking about ourselves as people who are in a faraway country to bring a message or work on a project, but only for a certain amount of time. When the message has been delivered and the project is finished, we want to return home to give an account of our mission and to rest from our labours.
One of the most important spiritual disciplines is to develop the knowledge that the years of our lives are years "on a mission."
Catching Up
Okay, where to start? It’s been a while since I did an actual update here instead of directing you to things worth reading, or sharing stuff others had written… My head is feeling clogged, full-to-bursting and I need to write some of it down. (I blog because it’s therapeutic for me… helps me to process and release stuff if I simply write it somewhere, add it to the general consciousness instead of bearing the weight in my head, alone.)
Last night before I went to sleep, I did a writing exercise that Rob Bell describes in the footnotes of his new book “Sex God”. I’ve also heard Rob preach about this exercise. (For those who are wondering, I haven’t read “Sex God” yet, though some of my youth did read it about a week ago, and recommended it. I was flipping through the footnotes looking for a reference to something else, and came across the exercise that I’d heard Rob preach, and was delighted to find it in a more organized format.) To be honest, I did the exercise in the hopes that by unloading some of the stuff I was thinking about, I’d be able to sleep a bit better. It helped a little. Not a lot. If you’re ever awake at 3:30 a.m. and wondering if you’re the only one in the world, take comfort. I’m usually awake at that time for a while.
Megs and I took advantage of the fact that the weather is finally catching on to the fact that spring has arrived, and, after a quick errand at the Asian market to buy supplies for a Thai meal that I’m cooking with a friend, for some other friends this weekend (speaking of the Asian market, we’re also looking for an East Indian market – does anyone know of something like this in Calgary?), we headed to Peter’s for hamburgers and fries. (For those of you who don’t know Calgary, Peter’s is legendary – drive in or walk up only, and great ginormous portions of food.) We quite thoroughly enjoyed sitting outside as we ate.
After dinner, we headed out to see a movie… “In the Land of Women”. Not hugely profound, but funny, and at times deep. We mutually agreed that it was a worth the money.
I’m headed out of town for a day and a half this weekend, taking one of my youth girls with me, to visit some other friends. I’m looking forward to the time, but also feeling some tension because of some stuff in my youth girls’ life lately, stuff that we probably need to talk about. I’m having a hard time figuring out the balance between friend, and advisor/leader in this particular relationship, and figuring out when to say the hard stuff and trust that there is relationship there that will support what may need to be said.
I’m thinking about an upcoming youth retreat that we’re holding, part-way through May. I think I’d maybe like to do some of the teaching, depending on what topic we decide to focus on, but the idea makes me nervous, particularly since the youth pastor I’m working with is long accomplished at teaching, and my own style would be very different from his. It’s been a long time since I did any extended teaching on my own. I’ve taught Sunday school several times for this same group of youth in the last while, and sometimes it seems to go well, sometimes it doesn’t. I’m struggling with the fact that I see life and relationship with God quite differently in a lot of ways from the church that I am involved with, and while I want to introduce our youth to a deeper relationship with God, through the work of the Spirit, I still feel tentative at best in figuring that out in my own life, and am not at all sure how to begin to communicate some of these things to the teenagers that I am involved with. Pray for us the next week or two as we meet to hash out a theme for the weekend, and as I listen for the spirit and seek to discern whether this is my time to open up and teach and share my journey with these young people.
I’m still waiting to figure out what comes next in my life. My tax return should be coming through in the next few weeks. It’ll get stuck quite nicely in a bank account, and hopefully in late June or early July I’ll be buying a car. That feels like a step in the right direction, towards independence. I’ve committed (at least to myself) to stay at my current job at least until I’ve been there a year. That happens September 12th. I have concert tickets for September 18th, so I’ll at least be in Calgary until then. From there, who knows? I’d like to either do an internship somewhere, or maybe travel for a couple of months over the course of the next year – maybe go see Megs once she settles back into Pakistan, maybe some time in Europe, who knows?
Oh, and I added another book to my reading list. I finished Anne Lamott’s new book over the weekend. I have to say that I was somewhat disappointed in this one. Though the title alludes to the book being “thoughts on faith,” I found this to be her most political, least “spiritual” book so far, and felt after a while like I was being preached at, and it began to grate on me. I still enjoyed her thoughts, she still made me laugh, and even made me think, but this time it was, as I say, more grating. More of a “you need to see the world my way, or you’re wrong” sort of attitude.
Okay, with all of that off my chest, I’m going back to doing other things. Work remains slow, giving me the time necessary to write a long post like this…
Last night before I went to sleep, I did a writing exercise that Rob Bell describes in the footnotes of his new book “Sex God”. I’ve also heard Rob preach about this exercise. (For those who are wondering, I haven’t read “Sex God” yet, though some of my youth did read it about a week ago, and recommended it. I was flipping through the footnotes looking for a reference to something else, and came across the exercise that I’d heard Rob preach, and was delighted to find it in a more organized format.) To be honest, I did the exercise in the hopes that by unloading some of the stuff I was thinking about, I’d be able to sleep a bit better. It helped a little. Not a lot. If you’re ever awake at 3:30 a.m. and wondering if you’re the only one in the world, take comfort. I’m usually awake at that time for a while.
Megs and I took advantage of the fact that the weather is finally catching on to the fact that spring has arrived, and, after a quick errand at the Asian market to buy supplies for a Thai meal that I’m cooking with a friend, for some other friends this weekend (speaking of the Asian market, we’re also looking for an East Indian market – does anyone know of something like this in Calgary?), we headed to Peter’s for hamburgers and fries. (For those of you who don’t know Calgary, Peter’s is legendary – drive in or walk up only, and great ginormous portions of food.) We quite thoroughly enjoyed sitting outside as we ate.
After dinner, we headed out to see a movie… “In the Land of Women”. Not hugely profound, but funny, and at times deep. We mutually agreed that it was a worth the money.
I’m headed out of town for a day and a half this weekend, taking one of my youth girls with me, to visit some other friends. I’m looking forward to the time, but also feeling some tension because of some stuff in my youth girls’ life lately, stuff that we probably need to talk about. I’m having a hard time figuring out the balance between friend, and advisor/leader in this particular relationship, and figuring out when to say the hard stuff and trust that there is relationship there that will support what may need to be said.
I’m thinking about an upcoming youth retreat that we’re holding, part-way through May. I think I’d maybe like to do some of the teaching, depending on what topic we decide to focus on, but the idea makes me nervous, particularly since the youth pastor I’m working with is long accomplished at teaching, and my own style would be very different from his. It’s been a long time since I did any extended teaching on my own. I’ve taught Sunday school several times for this same group of youth in the last while, and sometimes it seems to go well, sometimes it doesn’t. I’m struggling with the fact that I see life and relationship with God quite differently in a lot of ways from the church that I am involved with, and while I want to introduce our youth to a deeper relationship with God, through the work of the Spirit, I still feel tentative at best in figuring that out in my own life, and am not at all sure how to begin to communicate some of these things to the teenagers that I am involved with. Pray for us the next week or two as we meet to hash out a theme for the weekend, and as I listen for the spirit and seek to discern whether this is my time to open up and teach and share my journey with these young people.
I’m still waiting to figure out what comes next in my life. My tax return should be coming through in the next few weeks. It’ll get stuck quite nicely in a bank account, and hopefully in late June or early July I’ll be buying a car. That feels like a step in the right direction, towards independence. I’ve committed (at least to myself) to stay at my current job at least until I’ve been there a year. That happens September 12th. I have concert tickets for September 18th, so I’ll at least be in Calgary until then. From there, who knows? I’d like to either do an internship somewhere, or maybe travel for a couple of months over the course of the next year – maybe go see Megs once she settles back into Pakistan, maybe some time in Europe, who knows?
Oh, and I added another book to my reading list. I finished Anne Lamott’s new book over the weekend. I have to say that I was somewhat disappointed in this one. Though the title alludes to the book being “thoughts on faith,” I found this to be her most political, least “spiritual” book so far, and felt after a while like I was being preached at, and it began to grate on me. I still enjoyed her thoughts, she still made me laugh, and even made me think, but this time it was, as I say, more grating. More of a “you need to see the world my way, or you’re wrong” sort of attitude.
Okay, with all of that off my chest, I’m going back to doing other things. Work remains slow, giving me the time necessary to write a long post like this…
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Read this...
My friend Kirk has written a beautiful post about prayer, and waiting for a miracle, about healing, and faith. You can find it here, and you should take the time to read it.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
New Feature
I've added a new feature to the sidebar of my blog. I've decided to make a list of the stuff I'm reading. I'm only going to list the non-fiction books (I read probably 2-3 novels a week, and tend to re-read novels so I don't feel a particular need to list them.) I'm also trying to make a greater effort to read things that are spiritually challenging - to pay attention in my own life to the quotes on spiritual reading from Henri Nouwen that I put here earlier in the week. As I finish a book, I'll add it to the list, with the most recently finished book being at the top of the list.
I'll probably still post pretty regularly about the stuff I'm reading, and to be honest, the list is more of a way for me to keep track of what I've read than anything else, but if you're interested, check the list out.
I'll probably still post pretty regularly about the stuff I'm reading, and to be honest, the list is more of a way for me to keep track of what I've read than anything else, but if you're interested, check the list out.
2 Year Blog Anniversary
I find it a bit hard to believe that I've been putting bits and pieces of the the things I'm thinking about up here for two years now. But I have.
So, how did I celebrate this auspicious occasion? Well, I spent four or five hours cleaning. I got up this morning, feeling somewhat motivated and well, domestic, and attacked the challenge that reorganizing and cleaning my desk presented. I threw out two garbage bags worth of papers and things I didn't need any more, made some minor repairs, did a lot of sorting and rearranging, listed to episodes of M*A*S*H* play in the background on my laptop, and just generally took my time with it. I finished off by shaking out my rug and sweeping the floor of my bedroom.
I can once again locate things on my desk, and I have space for all sorts of art and generally creative projects in the coming weeks. You can even see the chair in the corner of my room, and curl up in it again, since I took the time to tidy it up too.
I get an odd feeling of enjoyment and satisfaction from this sort of task, and get the urge to do something of the sort once every several months or so. And today was the day. I may even sort through the drawers of my dresser and the shelves of my closet later!
I'm thinking of taking a morning off from church tomorrow. Time to enjoy the quiet and an empty house. This next week is going to be quite busy (a movie with Megs on Monday night, a church leadership meeting on Thursday night, visiting some friends in Canmore on Friday night and Saturday, a baby shower next Sunday after church, and a concert - Steve Bell - next Sunday evening that my company is sponsoring as a benefit for MCC Alberta's AIDS ministry) and the idea of some quiet time tomorrow morning is appealing. But I'm playing it by ear - we'll see what I feel like later tonight and tomorrow morning!
So, how did I celebrate this auspicious occasion? Well, I spent four or five hours cleaning. I got up this morning, feeling somewhat motivated and well, domestic, and attacked the challenge that reorganizing and cleaning my desk presented. I threw out two garbage bags worth of papers and things I didn't need any more, made some minor repairs, did a lot of sorting and rearranging, listed to episodes of M*A*S*H* play in the background on my laptop, and just generally took my time with it. I finished off by shaking out my rug and sweeping the floor of my bedroom.
I can once again locate things on my desk, and I have space for all sorts of art and generally creative projects in the coming weeks. You can even see the chair in the corner of my room, and curl up in it again, since I took the time to tidy it up too.
I get an odd feeling of enjoyment and satisfaction from this sort of task, and get the urge to do something of the sort once every several months or so. And today was the day. I may even sort through the drawers of my dresser and the shelves of my closet later!
I'm thinking of taking a morning off from church tomorrow. Time to enjoy the quiet and an empty house. This next week is going to be quite busy (a movie with Megs on Monday night, a church leadership meeting on Thursday night, visiting some friends in Canmore on Friday night and Saturday, a baby shower next Sunday after church, and a concert - Steve Bell - next Sunday evening that my company is sponsoring as a benefit for MCC Alberta's AIDS ministry) and the idea of some quiet time tomorrow morning is appealing. But I'm playing it by ear - we'll see what I feel like later tonight and tomorrow morning!
Friday, April 20, 2007
"Special" Birthday
There are lots of things I could talk to you about today.
I could tell you that I’ve arbitrarily declared today to be December 1, because the two inches (and still coming down) of snow we have is acceptable for December 1, but in my opinion is completely not acceptable for April 20th.
I could tell you how glad I am for a cup of passion tea this morning.
I could tell you about eating pizza with Megs last night, and starting to watch a movie, getting twenty minutes in and turning it off and going shopping instead. (I can’t even tell you the title of the movie, because I’ve forgotten it. It was crude, dirty, had David Duchovny and Julianne Moore and Maggie Gyllenhal and someone else, and sounded so inoccuous on the back cover that neither one of us remembered to look at the rating or the comments that go with the rating. Can I just say that I have an incredibly bad track record of picking independent or lesser known movies – the ones I pick are almost invariably BAD. So if you’re ever watching a movie like that with me, don’t let me pick!)
I could tell you about the attitudes I was raised with, the ones I was thinking about on the way to work this morning as I slogged through the snow from the train station. The ones that say that spiritual warfare is something that only happens in lesser developed countries. The ones that say that poverty is something I should care about if it’s a starving African child, because they can’t help themselves, but something I should look down on if it’s a north-american street person, because really, why don’t they just get it together and find a job?
Or, now that I’ve got those other things out of my system, I could tell you why April 20 is a special day for me. I think I’ll just go ahead and do that.
You see, 19 years ago today, I knelt down on the dirty chocolate brown shag carpet that was then in our living room (can you say 1970’s leftovers!?) beside my mom, and, in the simplistic language that a four year old uses, “asked Jesus into my life.”
My parents made a big deal out of this. They made a big deal out of reminding us every year, honoring this choice, the commitment we’d made. They’d remind us, even when we forgot about our “special birthday” (which we also called our “spiritual birthday”). We had a special dinner plate that we used to use for special occasions. I don’t remember exactly what all was on it, but it was blue and white, and I remember that it said “you are loved” on the rim somewhere. Basically, it showed up for each of us two or three times a year, on our actual birthday, on our “special” birthday, and maybe when something really exciting happened. My parents believed in celebrating our unique accomplishments and special occasions.
I resented April 20 for a number of years. All those years of depression, when I was praying that God would simply release me from the “unknowing” commitment I made at age four. I was begging God to let go of me, because it seemed that all I’d ever had from him was pain. If he wasn’t going to let me go, I told him, then just let me die, because I was done living.
Last year, my healing was new, and I was embroiled in the midst of caring for some very “messy” people, handling some messy stuff in my own life, and job hunting, and April 20th passed without notice or incident.
But today, I’m grateful. I’m grateful to the four year-old me, the simple faith that handed my life to Jesus. I’m grateful in hindsight for all the years that Jesus walked with me, through pain and depression and suffering. And I’m grateful for my relationship with him today. I’m grateful that I can say that I’ve known Jesus and even tried to walk with him for most of the last nineteen years. I’m grateful for the healing he’s brought. I’m grateful for the deep heart knowledge of his love for me. And so, inside me today, I’m celebrating. I’m reveling in a significant moment. I’m enjoying my “special birthday.” And I’m passing birthday wishes on to you. May you know Christ, be found in him, not having a rightousness of your own that comes from the law, but a righteousness that is through faith in him. May you know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death and so somehow to attain to the resurrection of the dead. (Philippians 3).
I could tell you that I’ve arbitrarily declared today to be December 1, because the two inches (and still coming down) of snow we have is acceptable for December 1, but in my opinion is completely not acceptable for April 20th.
I could tell you how glad I am for a cup of passion tea this morning.
I could tell you about eating pizza with Megs last night, and starting to watch a movie, getting twenty minutes in and turning it off and going shopping instead. (I can’t even tell you the title of the movie, because I’ve forgotten it. It was crude, dirty, had David Duchovny and Julianne Moore and Maggie Gyllenhal and someone else, and sounded so inoccuous on the back cover that neither one of us remembered to look at the rating or the comments that go with the rating. Can I just say that I have an incredibly bad track record of picking independent or lesser known movies – the ones I pick are almost invariably BAD. So if you’re ever watching a movie like that with me, don’t let me pick!)
I could tell you about the attitudes I was raised with, the ones I was thinking about on the way to work this morning as I slogged through the snow from the train station. The ones that say that spiritual warfare is something that only happens in lesser developed countries. The ones that say that poverty is something I should care about if it’s a starving African child, because they can’t help themselves, but something I should look down on if it’s a north-american street person, because really, why don’t they just get it together and find a job?
Or, now that I’ve got those other things out of my system, I could tell you why April 20 is a special day for me. I think I’ll just go ahead and do that.
You see, 19 years ago today, I knelt down on the dirty chocolate brown shag carpet that was then in our living room (can you say 1970’s leftovers!?) beside my mom, and, in the simplistic language that a four year old uses, “asked Jesus into my life.”
My parents made a big deal out of this. They made a big deal out of reminding us every year, honoring this choice, the commitment we’d made. They’d remind us, even when we forgot about our “special birthday” (which we also called our “spiritual birthday”). We had a special dinner plate that we used to use for special occasions. I don’t remember exactly what all was on it, but it was blue and white, and I remember that it said “you are loved” on the rim somewhere. Basically, it showed up for each of us two or three times a year, on our actual birthday, on our “special” birthday, and maybe when something really exciting happened. My parents believed in celebrating our unique accomplishments and special occasions.
I resented April 20 for a number of years. All those years of depression, when I was praying that God would simply release me from the “unknowing” commitment I made at age four. I was begging God to let go of me, because it seemed that all I’d ever had from him was pain. If he wasn’t going to let me go, I told him, then just let me die, because I was done living.
Last year, my healing was new, and I was embroiled in the midst of caring for some very “messy” people, handling some messy stuff in my own life, and job hunting, and April 20th passed without notice or incident.
But today, I’m grateful. I’m grateful to the four year-old me, the simple faith that handed my life to Jesus. I’m grateful in hindsight for all the years that Jesus walked with me, through pain and depression and suffering. And I’m grateful for my relationship with him today. I’m grateful that I can say that I’ve known Jesus and even tried to walk with him for most of the last nineteen years. I’m grateful for the healing he’s brought. I’m grateful for the deep heart knowledge of his love for me. And so, inside me today, I’m celebrating. I’m reveling in a significant moment. I’m enjoying my “special birthday.” And I’m passing birthday wishes on to you. May you know Christ, be found in him, not having a rightousness of your own that comes from the law, but a righteousness that is through faith in him. May you know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death and so somehow to attain to the resurrection of the dead. (Philippians 3).
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Two Quick Things
First, check out this article. I found it fascinating. What would happen if you had a virtuoso violinist play a $3.5 million dollar stradavarius in a subway station in a major American city? Would anyone notice? Would he make any money? And what does this say about North Americans and their ability to slow down and appreciate beauty? Read the article to find out!
Second, I have one more bit from Henri Nouwen (because so often the emails are so good that I just have to share them). This bit follows from what I posted yesterday.
Freedom Attracts
When you are interiorly free you call others to freedom, whether you know it or not. Freedom attracts wherever it appears. A free man or a free woman creates a space where others feel safe and want to dwell. Our world is so full of conditions, demands, requirements, and obligations that we often wonder what is expected of us. But when we meet a truly free person, there are no expectations, only an invitation to reach into ourselves and discover there our own freedom.
Where true inner freedom is, there is God. And where God is, there we want to be.
Second, I have one more bit from Henri Nouwen (because so often the emails are so good that I just have to share them). This bit follows from what I posted yesterday.
Freedom Attracts
When you are interiorly free you call others to freedom, whether you know it or not. Freedom attracts wherever it appears. A free man or a free woman creates a space where others feel safe and want to dwell. Our world is so full of conditions, demands, requirements, and obligations that we often wonder what is expected of us. But when we meet a truly free person, there are no expectations, only an invitation to reach into ourselves and discover there our own freedom.
Where true inner freedom is, there is God. And where God is, there we want to be.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
More from Henri Nouwen
Got another great Henri Nouwen bit in my email this morning and thought I'd once again pass it along.
The Spirit Will Speak in Us
When we are spiritually free, we do not have to worry about what to say or do in unexpected, difficult circumstances. When we are not concerned about what others think of us or what we will get for what we do, the right words and actions will emerge from the center of our beings because the Spirit of God, who makes us children of God and sets us free, will speak and act through us.
Jesus says: "When you are handed over, do not worry about how to speak or what to say; what you are to say will be given to you when the time comes, because it is not you who will be speaking; the Spirit of your Father will be speaking in you" (Matthew 10:19-20).
Let's keep trusting the Spirit of God living within us, so that we can live freely in a world that keeps handing us over to judges and evalutators.
The Spirit Will Speak in Us
When we are spiritually free, we do not have to worry about what to say or do in unexpected, difficult circumstances. When we are not concerned about what others think of us or what we will get for what we do, the right words and actions will emerge from the center of our beings because the Spirit of God, who makes us children of God and sets us free, will speak and act through us.
Jesus says: "When you are handed over, do not worry about how to speak or what to say; what you are to say will be given to you when the time comes, because it is not you who will be speaking; the Spirit of your Father will be speaking in you" (Matthew 10:19-20).
Let's keep trusting the Spirit of God living within us, so that we can live freely in a world that keeps handing us over to judges and evalutators.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Tuesday Thoughts
Here, in no apparent order are the things I’m thinking about tonight…
I think yesterday was very much needed for me. I am a person who requires much quiet time and space to process life. When big things happen, in my life, or in the lives of people close to me, I need that time and space. When I don’t get it, my mind, and then my body begin to shut down. That’s what happened yesterday. The weekend was full of some big things. And I had little time or space to recover from those things.
I’ve discovered that, though I love people, I respond to them in one of two ways. There are people that I find drain my energy, and people who I find to be life and energy giving. Of course, there is a great deal of variance, and even the best, most life-giving relationships can be draining. I made a tentative decision about a possible roommate for the future on the weekend, basing the decision on this theory, though I hadn’t thought of it until tonight. I tentatively ruled out living with a particular friend because her lifestyle is one I find very draining, and is not one I want spilling over into my home.
I crashed yesterday in part because of the high number of draining interactions I had over the weekend, and the very little time that I had to recoup from these interactions.
I am thinking again about traveling. I am feeling the pull of the nations. This makes me laugh. A year ago, I came home from Mexico more convinced than ever that my place, my calling, my ministry was to the North American church. I still believe that, but long for the enrichment of the church around the world, for the coming of the kingdom of God in all kinds of wild and crazy places.
On that same theme, I’ve had a song running through my head all day today, and off and on for the last week or so. It is one I had only known a little, but that Megs reminded me of. It was the song on her heart for her time in Pakistan, a country she found immensely oppressed spiritually. The lines that play over and over again in my head go like this:
We speak to nations – be open
We speak to nations – fall on your knees
We speak to nations – the kingdom is coming near to you
Oh we speak to strongholds – be broken
Powers of darkness – You have to flee
We speak to nations – The kingdom is coming near to you
We speak to you
Be Free
Be Free.
As I lay in bed yesterday, I was listening to a dramatization of “Prince Caspian” by C.S. Lewis, from the chronicles of Narnia. This, while not my overall favorite of the series, holds some of the moments of encounter with Aslan that I love the best. I was caught by two different ones of those encounters as I lay there listening again yesterday, and moved equally by both, as both gave voice to the words of my heart in this present season of life.
In the first scene, Lucy has just come upon Aslan directly for the first time in the novel, and is discussing a failing from a bit earlier. Aslan responds by asking her to carry out a rather difficult task, and Lucy’s response is telling. Lewis writes, “Oh dear, oh dear,” said Lucy. “And I was so pleased at finding you again. And I thought you’d let me stay. And I thought you’d come roaring in and frighten all the enemies away – like last time. And now everything is going to be horrid.”
In the second bit, Susan, who had doubted the appearance of Aslan in this story, doubted his presence, and his ability to intervene in the situation they found themselves in, speaks with him for the first time.
Lewis writes:
Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, “Susan.” Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. “You have listened to fears, child,” said Aslan. “Come let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?”
“A little, Aslan,” said Susan.
What catches me again, as I read these bits to type them here, is that both of these girls are Queens – women who have known the victory and beauty of life, who have tasted freedom and lived accordingly. And yet, both lost that sense of purpose for moments in time, and sucuumbed to fears. They responded differently, Lucy lamenting that the lion had not simply eliminated her enemies, and Susan doubting his presence, but both, once drawn into the presence of the lion drew from him strength to move forward. I am encouraged by Susan’s response to Aslan’s question, “Are you brave again?” for a little bravery is all that really seems necessary to make the next steps.
And so, I once again, as on that night of healing, find myself asking God to be Aslan in my life, to come and breathe on me, to refresh me, to allow me to bury myself in him, and find the strength to answer, “Yes, I feel a little bit brave again – I’ll go wherever you ask and do whatever you require. I’ll make the next step, whatever it may be.”
I think yesterday was very much needed for me. I am a person who requires much quiet time and space to process life. When big things happen, in my life, or in the lives of people close to me, I need that time and space. When I don’t get it, my mind, and then my body begin to shut down. That’s what happened yesterday. The weekend was full of some big things. And I had little time or space to recover from those things.
I’ve discovered that, though I love people, I respond to them in one of two ways. There are people that I find drain my energy, and people who I find to be life and energy giving. Of course, there is a great deal of variance, and even the best, most life-giving relationships can be draining. I made a tentative decision about a possible roommate for the future on the weekend, basing the decision on this theory, though I hadn’t thought of it until tonight. I tentatively ruled out living with a particular friend because her lifestyle is one I find very draining, and is not one I want spilling over into my home.
I crashed yesterday in part because of the high number of draining interactions I had over the weekend, and the very little time that I had to recoup from these interactions.
I am thinking again about traveling. I am feeling the pull of the nations. This makes me laugh. A year ago, I came home from Mexico more convinced than ever that my place, my calling, my ministry was to the North American church. I still believe that, but long for the enrichment of the church around the world, for the coming of the kingdom of God in all kinds of wild and crazy places.
On that same theme, I’ve had a song running through my head all day today, and off and on for the last week or so. It is one I had only known a little, but that Megs reminded me of. It was the song on her heart for her time in Pakistan, a country she found immensely oppressed spiritually. The lines that play over and over again in my head go like this:
We speak to nations – be open
We speak to nations – fall on your knees
We speak to nations – the kingdom is coming near to you
Oh we speak to strongholds – be broken
Powers of darkness – You have to flee
We speak to nations – The kingdom is coming near to you
We speak to you
Be Free
Be Free.
As I lay in bed yesterday, I was listening to a dramatization of “Prince Caspian” by C.S. Lewis, from the chronicles of Narnia. This, while not my overall favorite of the series, holds some of the moments of encounter with Aslan that I love the best. I was caught by two different ones of those encounters as I lay there listening again yesterday, and moved equally by both, as both gave voice to the words of my heart in this present season of life.
In the first scene, Lucy has just come upon Aslan directly for the first time in the novel, and is discussing a failing from a bit earlier. Aslan responds by asking her to carry out a rather difficult task, and Lucy’s response is telling. Lewis writes, “Oh dear, oh dear,” said Lucy. “And I was so pleased at finding you again. And I thought you’d let me stay. And I thought you’d come roaring in and frighten all the enemies away – like last time. And now everything is going to be horrid.”
In the second bit, Susan, who had doubted the appearance of Aslan in this story, doubted his presence, and his ability to intervene in the situation they found themselves in, speaks with him for the first time.
Lewis writes:
Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, “Susan.” Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. “You have listened to fears, child,” said Aslan. “Come let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?”
“A little, Aslan,” said Susan.
What catches me again, as I read these bits to type them here, is that both of these girls are Queens – women who have known the victory and beauty of life, who have tasted freedom and lived accordingly. And yet, both lost that sense of purpose for moments in time, and sucuumbed to fears. They responded differently, Lucy lamenting that the lion had not simply eliminated her enemies, and Susan doubting his presence, but both, once drawn into the presence of the lion drew from him strength to move forward. I am encouraged by Susan’s response to Aslan’s question, “Are you brave again?” for a little bravery is all that really seems necessary to make the next steps.
And so, I once again, as on that night of healing, find myself asking God to be Aslan in my life, to come and breathe on me, to refresh me, to allow me to bury myself in him, and find the strength to answer, “Yes, I feel a little bit brave again – I’ll go wherever you ask and do whatever you require. I’ll make the next step, whatever it may be.”
More from Henri Nouwen
I received the following two bits from Henri Nouwen in my email over the weekend at work, and thought I'd pass them along to you. Especially since I've been doing a lot of "spiritual reading" over the course of Lent the last few months. A longer post coming probably later today or tonight. I won't have the usual down time at the office today to write and think, since I need to play catch-up after being at home yesterday...
Reading Spiritually About Spiritual Things
Reading often means gathering information, acquiring new insight and knowledge, and mastering a new field. It can lead us to degrees, diplomas, and certificates. Spiritual reading, however, is different. It means not simply reading about spiritual things but also reading about spiritual things in a spiritual way. That requires a willingness not just to read but to be read, not just to master but to be mastered by words. As long as we read the Bible or a spiritual book simply to acquire knowledge, our reading does not help us in our spiritual lives. We can become very knowledgeable about spiritual matters without becoming truly spiritual people.
As we read spiritually about spiritual things, we open our hearts to God's voice. Sometimes we must be willing to put down the book we are reading and just listen to what God is saying to us through its words.
To Let the Word Become Flesh
Spiritual reading is food for our souls. As we slowly let the words of the Bible or any spiritual book enter into our minds and descend into our hearts, we become different people. The Word gradually becomes flesh in us and thus transforms our whole beings. Thus spiritual reading is a continuing incarnation of the divine Word within us. In and through Jesus, the Christ, God became flesh long ago. In and through our reading of God's Word and our reflection on it, God becomes flesh in us now and thus makes us into living Christs for today.
Let's keep reading God's Word with love and great reverence.
Reading Spiritually About Spiritual Things
Reading often means gathering information, acquiring new insight and knowledge, and mastering a new field. It can lead us to degrees, diplomas, and certificates. Spiritual reading, however, is different. It means not simply reading about spiritual things but also reading about spiritual things in a spiritual way. That requires a willingness not just to read but to be read, not just to master but to be mastered by words. As long as we read the Bible or a spiritual book simply to acquire knowledge, our reading does not help us in our spiritual lives. We can become very knowledgeable about spiritual matters without becoming truly spiritual people.
As we read spiritually about spiritual things, we open our hearts to God's voice. Sometimes we must be willing to put down the book we are reading and just listen to what God is saying to us through its words.
To Let the Word Become Flesh
Spiritual reading is food for our souls. As we slowly let the words of the Bible or any spiritual book enter into our minds and descend into our hearts, we become different people. The Word gradually becomes flesh in us and thus transforms our whole beings. Thus spiritual reading is a continuing incarnation of the divine Word within us. In and through Jesus, the Christ, God became flesh long ago. In and through our reading of God's Word and our reflection on it, God becomes flesh in us now and thus makes us into living Christs for today.
Let's keep reading God's Word with love and great reverence.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Sick Day
I have been having a very quiet and relaxing sort of day. I woke up this morning to my alarm, feeling pretty crummy. Slightly queasy, very achy, and generally exhausted. After thinking about it for a while, I made the decision to stay home from work today.
I haven't regretted it. After a quick email to my office, letting them know I wasn't going to make it in, I headed back to bed and slept for another couple hours. In the time since I woke, I've done a bit of creative stuff for future collage projects, watched a couple movies, and just generally done very little that requires strong mental engagement. And I'm feeling better for it, more rested (though I think I may curl up with a novel and read myself into another nap when this post is finished!) and more ready to face the world again tomorrow.
See you later!
I haven't regretted it. After a quick email to my office, letting them know I wasn't going to make it in, I headed back to bed and slept for another couple hours. In the time since I woke, I've done a bit of creative stuff for future collage projects, watched a couple movies, and just generally done very little that requires strong mental engagement. And I'm feeling better for it, more rested (though I think I may curl up with a novel and read myself into another nap when this post is finished!) and more ready to face the world again tomorrow.
See you later!
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Long Day
I walked in the door half an hour ago. I've been on the go since 9:30 this morning. First getting ready to attend a wedding, then meeting a friend for lunch, then the wedding ceremony, then meeting one of my youth girls at an Asian market to buy ingredients, then cooking Thai food with ten youth girls as our first girls hang out night, in place of the Bible study that wasn't working out so well, then driving one of the girls to her friend's place for the night, on the other side of the city.
I'm exhausted. It's been a long week emotionally, relationally, and spiritually. I could use a vacation just at the moment, but in less than 12 hours I teach Sunday school. A chapter in the book we're studying that says it's about temptation, but is really about spiritual warfare. Talk about a subject that not only hits close to home lately, but one that I feel completely ill-equipped to discuss. Particularly in this setting. I grew up in the church I'm teaching in, and have only recently returned after attending elsewhere for 3 years or so. I honestly thought that spiritual warfare didn't really happen in the "developed world." I figured it was something you encountered in Thailand, or Africa, definitely not here. I'm wondering how many of the kids I'm teaching have the same sort of concept in their head.
Pray for me. I feel ill-prepared, not ready yet to face this topic, not even particularly motivated to teach. In fact, if I wasn't teaching tomorrow, I'd probably stay at home in bed, and catch up on some much needed rest. Pray that I meet Jesus as I pray and finish preparing in the morning, and as we have the worship service before I teach. Pray that every word that comes out of my mouth will be guided by him, and clear and simple, straight to the heart of the subject, and the heart of the hearers. Pray for me, because I don't think like a teacher - I don't naturally think in a way that engages learning in others, I naturally think like a preacher - I develop a thought fully, rather than pushing them to develop it on their own, and it's hard to engage a group of teenagers and young adults by preaching at them. Pray that they will be opening to broadening their conception of God by engaging this topic.
With that, I'm off to read, and slow my brain down for a little while, and then to sleep.
I'm exhausted. It's been a long week emotionally, relationally, and spiritually. I could use a vacation just at the moment, but in less than 12 hours I teach Sunday school. A chapter in the book we're studying that says it's about temptation, but is really about spiritual warfare. Talk about a subject that not only hits close to home lately, but one that I feel completely ill-equipped to discuss. Particularly in this setting. I grew up in the church I'm teaching in, and have only recently returned after attending elsewhere for 3 years or so. I honestly thought that spiritual warfare didn't really happen in the "developed world." I figured it was something you encountered in Thailand, or Africa, definitely not here. I'm wondering how many of the kids I'm teaching have the same sort of concept in their head.
Pray for me. I feel ill-prepared, not ready yet to face this topic, not even particularly motivated to teach. In fact, if I wasn't teaching tomorrow, I'd probably stay at home in bed, and catch up on some much needed rest. Pray that I meet Jesus as I pray and finish preparing in the morning, and as we have the worship service before I teach. Pray that every word that comes out of my mouth will be guided by him, and clear and simple, straight to the heart of the subject, and the heart of the hearers. Pray for me, because I don't think like a teacher - I don't naturally think in a way that engages learning in others, I naturally think like a preacher - I develop a thought fully, rather than pushing them to develop it on their own, and it's hard to engage a group of teenagers and young adults by preaching at them. Pray that they will be opening to broadening their conception of God by engaging this topic.
With that, I'm off to read, and slow my brain down for a little while, and then to sleep.
Friday, April 13, 2007
I almost forgot...
The other thing that I'm excited about from last night is that Rae is going to see if she can come up with a design for the tattoo I'm thinking about getting on my lower back. I described the picture of it that I have in my head, and the meanings of the various symbols, the significance to my personal and spiritual life, and she's going to see what she can do. Since I've seen Rae's drawings, that makes me happy!
Yesterday
Yesterday was a good day.
Work, was, well, dead. (This is actually not part of the “good” day.) I had nothing in particular to do, which makes for a rather long shift, staring at my computer screen and wondering how much of the day is left.
But, on my way home, I got a text message and then a phone call from Rae. I knew she was in town, but neither one of us were sure that it would work out to get together. It did.
We met for tea at the Oolong Tea House in Kensington. I hadn’t been there for tea since before Rae moved, because everyone I know drinks coffee instead of tea. So, since it was a nice night, we sat on the back porch of the tea house and started catching up. And, eventually, we got more tea to go, and wandered up 10th Street, eventually ending up walking the path around Riley Park.
It was so good to hang out again. I’ve missed that kind of honest conversation that you can only have with the best of friends. The kind you know will be reciprocated. The kind that inevitably delves into the deeper spiritual stuff of our lives. So many of the people that I have that kind of conversation with don’t live in Calgary anymore, and I miss them. I chat with lots of people, meet them for coffee dates, hang out and so on, and I’m generally always honest about where I’m at in life, but very few will reciprocate deeply, and fewer still are comfortable enough for me to share the spiritual stuff, the questions, the “odd” occurrences, and so forth. Rae and I chatted like we’d seen each other the day before, instead of sometime before Christmas. It made for great conversation as we walked in the park, enjoying one of the first really beautiful spring evenings we’ve had this year.
I also bought a tea infuser – one that will work well for a single cup of tea. So I’m sitting here this morning, drinking a lovely cup of citrus rooibos, made from great loose tea, instead of a tea bag. Smells great, tastes great, and makes me happy.
Work, was, well, dead. (This is actually not part of the “good” day.) I had nothing in particular to do, which makes for a rather long shift, staring at my computer screen and wondering how much of the day is left.
But, on my way home, I got a text message and then a phone call from Rae. I knew she was in town, but neither one of us were sure that it would work out to get together. It did.
We met for tea at the Oolong Tea House in Kensington. I hadn’t been there for tea since before Rae moved, because everyone I know drinks coffee instead of tea. So, since it was a nice night, we sat on the back porch of the tea house and started catching up. And, eventually, we got more tea to go, and wandered up 10th Street, eventually ending up walking the path around Riley Park.
It was so good to hang out again. I’ve missed that kind of honest conversation that you can only have with the best of friends. The kind you know will be reciprocated. The kind that inevitably delves into the deeper spiritual stuff of our lives. So many of the people that I have that kind of conversation with don’t live in Calgary anymore, and I miss them. I chat with lots of people, meet them for coffee dates, hang out and so on, and I’m generally always honest about where I’m at in life, but very few will reciprocate deeply, and fewer still are comfortable enough for me to share the spiritual stuff, the questions, the “odd” occurrences, and so forth. Rae and I chatted like we’d seen each other the day before, instead of sometime before Christmas. It made for great conversation as we walked in the park, enjoying one of the first really beautiful spring evenings we’ve had this year.
I also bought a tea infuser – one that will work well for a single cup of tea. So I’m sitting here this morning, drinking a lovely cup of citrus rooibos, made from great loose tea, instead of a tea bag. Smells great, tastes great, and makes me happy.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Slow Day
This is one of those days where I’m wishing I could curl up in a sunbeam on the couch in our living room. It’s finally sunny outside, and I’m sitting in the office, looking outside and wishing I was anywhere but here (with the possible exception of the dentist!) This is a slow day. Hardly any phone calls, and since our big conference is over, nothing in particular to do at my desk all day. I have some “make work” projects that my boss and I came up with yesterday as a way to fill the eight hours I’ll sit at this desk today, but nothing that particularly needs to be done, nothing with any urgency or deadline attached, and definitely nothing with any sense of purpose or accomplishment.
I’m managed a temporary escape over the lunch hour. Though I brought a bit of a lunch with me today, I was craving a fresh pita, and decided to walk to the pita place to at least get a bit of time outside now that there’s finally sun shining.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow the forecast is calling for spectacular weather. I do believe I’ll be able to wear a skirt to work!
I’m managed a temporary escape over the lunch hour. Though I brought a bit of a lunch with me today, I was craving a fresh pita, and decided to walk to the pita place to at least get a bit of time outside now that there’s finally sun shining.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow the forecast is calling for spectacular weather. I do believe I’ll be able to wear a skirt to work!
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Quiet, Shield, and Grace
Psalm 18:2
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior;
my God is my rock, in whom I find protection.
He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior;
my God is my rock, in whom I find protection.
He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety
After flipping through a variety of scriptures last night (I read Obadiah, a bit of Song of Solomon, some tidbits from Isaiah...) I paused as I encountered and was drawn in by this passage. God has been speaking to me over and over again lately about Himself as my source of life, protection, safety. The word "shield" has often come up (in words from friends, and in my scripture readings), and there is a picture God gave me relating to the concept of Him as my shield, that is so powerful that I am thinking about having an artist form it into a tattoo, and having it done on my back. After reading this last night, I wrote, "Abba, I feel buffetted, surrounded, battered and weary from the struggle. I needed this tonight. I have a picture of a hollowed-out rock, a womb-like spot, warm and hidden from view, where you offer me the chance to rest and be restored. Let my heart be quiet in that space."
The sense of a quiet heart has been strong lately, catching me off guard on a regular basis. Today, on the train on the way home from work, I grabbed my journal and expressed it like this:
There is a quietness in my life lately that I don't quite understand. The usual neuroses rear their ugly heads once a month or so - usually when I'm hormonal and overly tired, and have less defenses against the irritability of daily life.
But this quietness, a sense of calm persists. And it surprises me, still, after so many years of constant turmoil under the surface.
So many days I still wake up surprised at God's healing.
May 1st, in a few short weeks, will mark a year and half since that crazy night, praying in James' car, that God intervened and healed me. The first four months or so were about the shock - waiting for the depression to return, coming to the realization of the enormity of the act of healing that God poured out on my life. The time since then has been spent rediscovering what it means to experience "normal" emotions, finding a balance of those emotions, learning to really enjoy them, experience them, bask in them.
And I still wake surprised by their intensity, but also by this quietness, the calm assurance that wasn't there before. The certainty that I am the beloved child of a God who delighted to pour his grace out over my life in an incredible act of healing and redemption.
Tuesday morning musings
I check the weather forecast on Environment Canada somewhat religiously these days. Kari talked on her blog yesterday about the ongoing snow we’ve been having. I’m tired of it. (Although, today, I have to head home after work and clean a winter’s worth of dog crap up from our yard, so I wouldn’t object to a quick snow storm that covered it up and delayed it for a day or so!) I can’t wait for spring, and then summer. For the days when I don’t have to make my clothing choices by how cold it is outside, and whether or not I’ll get frostbite walking from the train station to our office.
Phone call volume was way up at the office yesterday, and seems to be headed in that direction today as well. The remnants of a 4-day long weekend closure for Easter, I suppose.
I had a beautiful time hanging out with Jesus last night. That hasn’t happened in a while – where a Scripture really drew me in and started a conversation. I’ve been too stressed, too worried, too busy to pause and listen for those conversation starters. I’ve ignored the prompts to open Scriptures several nights lately, but paid attention last night. I journalled a bit, and listened. When I switched my light out, it seemed the conversation wasn’t over. So I lay on my face in the dark, and we kept talking. It felt really good to share my heart, to express the concerns and worries I’ve been holding onto so tightly. Various friends and situations came to mind, and I prayed for them too, as he guided me. I fell asleep meditating, over and over, “Abba, I belong to you. Show me where you’re working and how I can join you.”
I really do, wish, though that I’d manage to sleep through the night one of these days. Right now, I sleep like clockwork, from whenever I drift off after turning out my lights (usually somewhere between 10:00 and 11:00 p.m.) until about 3:30 a.m. After that, I wake up every hour or so, often with weird snippets of dreams left behind, until 6:30 when my alarm rings and starts my next day. A full night of sleep is one of the things I’m asking God for an awful lot lately. It’s been quite a while – three or more months now, since I’ve regularly slept through the night.
Phone call volume was way up at the office yesterday, and seems to be headed in that direction today as well. The remnants of a 4-day long weekend closure for Easter, I suppose.
I had a beautiful time hanging out with Jesus last night. That hasn’t happened in a while – where a Scripture really drew me in and started a conversation. I’ve been too stressed, too worried, too busy to pause and listen for those conversation starters. I’ve ignored the prompts to open Scriptures several nights lately, but paid attention last night. I journalled a bit, and listened. When I switched my light out, it seemed the conversation wasn’t over. So I lay on my face in the dark, and we kept talking. It felt really good to share my heart, to express the concerns and worries I’ve been holding onto so tightly. Various friends and situations came to mind, and I prayed for them too, as he guided me. I fell asleep meditating, over and over, “Abba, I belong to you. Show me where you’re working and how I can join you.”
I really do, wish, though that I’d manage to sleep through the night one of these days. Right now, I sleep like clockwork, from whenever I drift off after turning out my lights (usually somewhere between 10:00 and 11:00 p.m.) until about 3:30 a.m. After that, I wake up every hour or so, often with weird snippets of dreams left behind, until 6:30 when my alarm rings and starts my next day. A full night of sleep is one of the things I’m asking God for an awful lot lately. It’s been quite a while – three or more months now, since I’ve regularly slept through the night.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Friends as Reminders of Our Truth
The following came to my email inbox from the Henri Nouwen Society (daily emails from Nouwen's writings) over the weekend, and I liked the truth it offered, and thought I'd pass it along to you.
Sometimes our sorrow overwhelms us so much that we no longer can believe in joy. Life just seems a cup filled to the brim with war, violence, rejection, loneliness, and endless disappointments.
At times like this we need our friends to remind us that crushed grapes can produce tasty wine. It might be hard for us to trust that any joy can come from our sorrow, but when we start taking steps in the direction of our friends' advice, even when we ourselves are not yet able to feel the truth of what they say, the joy that seemed to be lost may be found again and our sorrow may become livable.
Sometimes our sorrow overwhelms us so much that we no longer can believe in joy. Life just seems a cup filled to the brim with war, violence, rejection, loneliness, and endless disappointments.
At times like this we need our friends to remind us that crushed grapes can produce tasty wine. It might be hard for us to trust that any joy can come from our sorrow, but when we start taking steps in the direction of our friends' advice, even when we ourselves are not yet able to feel the truth of what they say, the joy that seemed to be lost may be found again and our sorrow may become livable.
Monday, April 09, 2007
I love...
This is one of those "things that make me smile" type posts, because, after a long four day weekend of introspection, and facing some of the harder things in my life right now, I needed to remind myself about some of the beautiful ones. So I used one of the journalling prompts from Kim McMechan's seminar a couple weeks ago, and this is what I came up with. Rather than titling it "Things that make me smile", this is simply a list that begins, "I love..."
I Love…
I Love…
- The flicker of candles in my darkened bedroom
- The convenience of my laptop computer
- Hot pink crocs
- Trident peppermint gum (in the dark blue package)
- Steve Bell’s song “Restless”
- The prospect of lunch dates with various friends this week
- The wavy ikea mirror that hangs on my wall
- The crucifix on my wall from my trip to Mexico – it reflects the tenderness of Jesus, even as he hangs on the cross and suffers. A tender, suffering Savior.
- Chocolate crème oreos
- Having all my books neatly organized on shelves.
- Passion tea from starbucks
- The warm relaxed feeling after a long, hot, bubble bath
- My hair on a really good curly day
- Cute shoes
- Milk chocolate
- Photos of friends and family all over my bedroom
- Art that has hidden meanings (even if only I know what they are)
- Curling up with a novel and losing myself in it
- Stumbling upon a writing that is breathtaking in its beauty
- Laughing with friends
- Really good emails
- Encouragement from friends
- Praying with people who know my heart
- Time spent with Kari
- Dinner and movie dates with Megan
- Hearing someone’s redemption story
- Watching M*A*S*H*
- Particularly idealistic characters
- Making beautiful things
- Turkey breast subs from Subway, on wheat, with lettuce, cucumber, sweet onion sauce, mayo and sub sauce
- BBQ Pork Vietnamese noodle bowls
- Cold, refreshing water
- Hiking Ptarmigan cirque early in the spring when no one is there yet, and you can really enjoy the beauty of the mountain peace
- Sharing the things I love with friends
- Knowing I’ve connected with someone, and eased their burden, if only temporarily
- Rooibos tea
- Any particularly cosy piece of clothing
- Coming home from work and putting on jeans and a hoody
- Encountering Jesus in the really surprising moments
- The Gospel of Mark
I guess I'll just be restless...
I've been thinking more since I wrote yesterday. I've had a song called "Restless" by Steve Bell floating around my brain for the last couple of days. (If you don't know Steve Bell, he's a fabulous Canadian singer/songwriter from Winnipeg. Part mystic, part theologian, a fantastic story-teller, and master of the art of lament.)
I was chatting with Kari and Steve for a few minutes about that last bit - the lament bit - at the conference my company hosted last weekend. I'd met Steve a number of times in the past, and when we started looking for suitable entertainment for 300 Mennonites, he came to mind. It went great. But, as I was saying, since we were chatting about lament, I wanted to take the opportunity to say thank you to Steve for talking openly about the need for laments in the church, and for writing so many fantastic songs that express lament. His music was some of the only "Christian" music I listened to during all of those years of depression.
I particularly listened to the song I mentioned at the beginning of this post, off of the "Waiting for Aidan" album (my personal favorite, for so many darker emotions that I deeply related to at various points, as well as the offered hope.) Through those years of depression, of wanting to die, but knowing I could never act on that; of begging God to simply release me - from life, from any committment to him, since it had been so painful, I identified with these words that Steve penned. They came back again yesterday morning, as we were driving to church, and again last night as I headed out to see a movie, and yet again off and on all day today. Particularly this line:
I get no rest from the days of my week
I get even less on a Sunday
Sunday's become the antagonists' feast
Like an arrow through me
This is how I felt yesterday, as I headed to church to prepare to celebrate the risen Christ. I wondered where he was, why, on this day of all days, I couldn't seem to summon the hope and joy that the day was supposed to entail. Why I couldn't seem to find direction for my future.
I'll give you the whole lyric now... I can't help longing. So I guess I'll just be restless till He satisfies me.
Restless
(music and lyrics by Steve Bell)
Blest are the departed
The repose for which I long
To descend into the fathomless quiet of God
Wretched are the rest of us
Tossed upon the sea
And I guess I'll just be restless till you satisfy me
I get no rest from the days of my week
I get even less on a Sunday
Sunday's become the antagonists' feast
Like an arrow through me
So I fly to a desolate place
Here am I
Falling on my face
To silence every claim to my soul
Just to see God sitting high on a throne
But I'm not yet free
That's my dis-ease
Scanning the clouds for some sign of your face
Maybe the whole thing is folly
Like waiting for Eden to rise from the lake
But I can't help longing
So I fly to a desolate place
Here am I
Falling on my face
To silence every claim to my soul
Just to see God sitting high on a throne
But I'm not yet free
That's my dis-ease
Blest are the departed
The respose for which I long
To descend into the fathomless quiet of God
Waiting are the rest of us
Tossed upon the sea
And I guess I'll just be restless till you satisfy me
So I guess I'll just be restless till you satisfy me.
I was chatting with Kari and Steve for a few minutes about that last bit - the lament bit - at the conference my company hosted last weekend. I'd met Steve a number of times in the past, and when we started looking for suitable entertainment for 300 Mennonites, he came to mind. It went great. But, as I was saying, since we were chatting about lament, I wanted to take the opportunity to say thank you to Steve for talking openly about the need for laments in the church, and for writing so many fantastic songs that express lament. His music was some of the only "Christian" music I listened to during all of those years of depression.
I particularly listened to the song I mentioned at the beginning of this post, off of the "Waiting for Aidan" album (my personal favorite, for so many darker emotions that I deeply related to at various points, as well as the offered hope.) Through those years of depression, of wanting to die, but knowing I could never act on that; of begging God to simply release me - from life, from any committment to him, since it had been so painful, I identified with these words that Steve penned. They came back again yesterday morning, as we were driving to church, and again last night as I headed out to see a movie, and yet again off and on all day today. Particularly this line:
I get no rest from the days of my week
I get even less on a Sunday
Sunday's become the antagonists' feast
Like an arrow through me
This is how I felt yesterday, as I headed to church to prepare to celebrate the risen Christ. I wondered where he was, why, on this day of all days, I couldn't seem to summon the hope and joy that the day was supposed to entail. Why I couldn't seem to find direction for my future.
I'll give you the whole lyric now... I can't help longing. So I guess I'll just be restless till He satisfies me.
Restless
(music and lyrics by Steve Bell)
Blest are the departed
The repose for which I long
To descend into the fathomless quiet of God
Wretched are the rest of us
Tossed upon the sea
And I guess I'll just be restless till you satisfy me
I get no rest from the days of my week
I get even less on a Sunday
Sunday's become the antagonists' feast
Like an arrow through me
So I fly to a desolate place
Here am I
Falling on my face
To silence every claim to my soul
Just to see God sitting high on a throne
But I'm not yet free
That's my dis-ease
Scanning the clouds for some sign of your face
Maybe the whole thing is folly
Like waiting for Eden to rise from the lake
But I can't help longing
So I fly to a desolate place
Here am I
Falling on my face
To silence every claim to my soul
Just to see God sitting high on a throne
But I'm not yet free
That's my dis-ease
Blest are the departed
The respose for which I long
To descend into the fathomless quiet of God
Waiting are the rest of us
Tossed upon the sea
And I guess I'll just be restless till you satisfy me
So I guess I'll just be restless till you satisfy me.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
He is risen...
He is risen indeed! Hallelujah!
I always feel like that call and response saying we all grew up with needs a hallelujah on the end. Sort of a benediction. A way to finish the sentiment, and give all the attention to the right thing.
Today was... interesting.
To be honest, right now I'm really wrestling with church a bit. Wondering again if it was the right decision to go back to my dad's church, get involved with the youth. Wondering what this season of life is.
I drove to church with my mom today, and on our way we picked up my nana. Just before we got to Nana's house, my mom asked a question, and I mentioned in an off-hand kind of way that I really wanted to stay at home today, just skip church entirely. Mom jumped immediately into a thing about "if you're not sure about coming to this church..." And I nearly started to cry, except we were about two seconds away from Nana's house, and it wouldn't have worked to start that whole discussion. All I could do was answer that I'm really frustrated with where my life is at right now, and church is only one expression of that.
I was supposed to be living in another city, possibly another country, by this point in the spring. If not another city, at least not in my parents house anymore. But I'm not. The girl I was moving cities with changed plans, and it only made sense to move countries if we did it together. We were also supposed to move in together in Calgary if the other plans fell through. She told me a week or two ago that she's accepted a request to become the roommate of another friend entirely.
I spent Lent praying for direction, and fasting in various ways to seek that direction, and I still have no idea what I'm doing. It's not that I regret the fasts - I learned some valuable things about myself - it's just that I was hoping for something clear. Some sense of next steps, of my place in the world, and of what I'm going to do in the next season of my life.
I'm tired all the time right now. Some of this is weighing on me, and my sleep feels like an area of spiritual attack once again. I have to be hyper-vigilant about praying protection each night before I fall asleep, or I'm highly likely to suffer nightmares. Because I don't sleep at night, I tend to fall asleep every time I slow down. I fell asleep in an armchair this afternoon, with a houseful of relatives sitting and chatting around me (though admittedly, we were all watching golf on television, and that does end up being rather soothing after a while).
Church this morning ended up being okay. The worship was great. It was great to simply celebrate Jesus and his redemptive power. I sat with Nana (who doesn't make it to church very often any more because of her health), and that's always fun. (Nana is my adopted, very British grandmother, a lady our family has known for years, who happens to live across the back alley from our house.) I chatted with a few of the youth.
You see, the thing that frustrates me with going to the church I'm attending is, it was supposed to be temporary. I was supposed to know by now what came next. I was supposed to be moving on. Instead, I wonder if I'm beginning to lose myself again in the sort of religious culture that it took so very long for me to begin to untangle myself from in the first place.
I don't know what comes next, and that is terrifying and angering, and makes me cry just thinking about it tonight.
I'm working to rest in the end of the phrase I started the post with. That last word that God has spoken so often to me over the last year and a half. The hallelujah. I want to live there. I'm trying to live there. It's not so easy just at the moment, but it's worth my best shot, with a few desperate prayers like "Help!" thrown in.
He is risen. He is risen indeed. Hallelujah.
I always feel like that call and response saying we all grew up with needs a hallelujah on the end. Sort of a benediction. A way to finish the sentiment, and give all the attention to the right thing.
Today was... interesting.
To be honest, right now I'm really wrestling with church a bit. Wondering again if it was the right decision to go back to my dad's church, get involved with the youth. Wondering what this season of life is.
I drove to church with my mom today, and on our way we picked up my nana. Just before we got to Nana's house, my mom asked a question, and I mentioned in an off-hand kind of way that I really wanted to stay at home today, just skip church entirely. Mom jumped immediately into a thing about "if you're not sure about coming to this church..." And I nearly started to cry, except we were about two seconds away from Nana's house, and it wouldn't have worked to start that whole discussion. All I could do was answer that I'm really frustrated with where my life is at right now, and church is only one expression of that.
I was supposed to be living in another city, possibly another country, by this point in the spring. If not another city, at least not in my parents house anymore. But I'm not. The girl I was moving cities with changed plans, and it only made sense to move countries if we did it together. We were also supposed to move in together in Calgary if the other plans fell through. She told me a week or two ago that she's accepted a request to become the roommate of another friend entirely.
I spent Lent praying for direction, and fasting in various ways to seek that direction, and I still have no idea what I'm doing. It's not that I regret the fasts - I learned some valuable things about myself - it's just that I was hoping for something clear. Some sense of next steps, of my place in the world, and of what I'm going to do in the next season of my life.
I'm tired all the time right now. Some of this is weighing on me, and my sleep feels like an area of spiritual attack once again. I have to be hyper-vigilant about praying protection each night before I fall asleep, or I'm highly likely to suffer nightmares. Because I don't sleep at night, I tend to fall asleep every time I slow down. I fell asleep in an armchair this afternoon, with a houseful of relatives sitting and chatting around me (though admittedly, we were all watching golf on television, and that does end up being rather soothing after a while).
Church this morning ended up being okay. The worship was great. It was great to simply celebrate Jesus and his redemptive power. I sat with Nana (who doesn't make it to church very often any more because of her health), and that's always fun. (Nana is my adopted, very British grandmother, a lady our family has known for years, who happens to live across the back alley from our house.) I chatted with a few of the youth.
You see, the thing that frustrates me with going to the church I'm attending is, it was supposed to be temporary. I was supposed to know by now what came next. I was supposed to be moving on. Instead, I wonder if I'm beginning to lose myself again in the sort of religious culture that it took so very long for me to begin to untangle myself from in the first place.
I don't know what comes next, and that is terrifying and angering, and makes me cry just thinking about it tonight.
I'm working to rest in the end of the phrase I started the post with. That last word that God has spoken so often to me over the last year and a half. The hallelujah. I want to live there. I'm trying to live there. It's not so easy just at the moment, but it's worth my best shot, with a few desperate prayers like "Help!" thrown in.
He is risen. He is risen indeed. Hallelujah.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Good Start to the Day
I didn't sleep very well again, but forced myself to lay in bed until 8:30 or so.
However, I got a nice surprise when I emerged from my bedroom.
My mom had made bacon and waffles for breakfast. SO good. There have been lots of times lately when I've chafed against living with my parents, and the way it tends to curtail my independence, but I have to admit, getting up on the occasional weekend morning to find a great breakfast waiting has definite positives too.
I made a quick trip to the farmer's market with mom, and this afternoon, since my parents have a counselling session in our living room, I'm going to head out to the grocery store, and probably to China town to pick up some baking.
All in all, it's been a good day so far.
However, I got a nice surprise when I emerged from my bedroom.
My mom had made bacon and waffles for breakfast. SO good. There have been lots of times lately when I've chafed against living with my parents, and the way it tends to curtail my independence, but I have to admit, getting up on the occasional weekend morning to find a great breakfast waiting has definite positives too.
I made a quick trip to the farmer's market with mom, and this afternoon, since my parents have a counselling session in our living room, I'm going to head out to the grocery store, and probably to China town to pick up some baking.
All in all, it's been a good day so far.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Good Friday
Today started early. I couldn't seem to sleep, so I watched a bit of a movie on my laptop in bed for an hour or two.
The Tenebrae service was fantastic. Next time I'd really like to be in the congregation, instead of a participant, as you get a bit more of the full visual impact. I couldn't see some parts as well as I would have liked from where I was sitting as a reader. I was delighted that a few friends joined us for the morning (I hope you enjoyed the service, guys!).
I spent the afternoon at Elbow Falls, near Bragg Creek, with one of
my youth girls, my brother, and one of his friends. It's become something of a tradition for me, over the last several years, to try and get away from the city, and out into the mountains for a period of time on Good Friday. I find it refreshing. And it's always fun to share it with friends! Today was a bonus - because of the cold (very unspringlike and un-easterlike if I do say so myself) weather, there were very few people at the falls, which meant we could roam a bit and laugh and chat and generally be a bit less considerate than we would have needed to be for a bit more crowded touristy type day!
My mom and I baked hot-crossed buns after dinner tonight. (Actually, I think they're still finishing rising, and then we'll bake them!) I wonder if this is a distinctly Canadian thing, hot-crossed buns for Easter? Anyhow, my grandma has a fantastic recipe, which we followed, and I quite happily expect to be eating a lovely, warm bun, within the next hour or so, with a bit of butter melted onto it to make it extra fantastic!
A long bubble-bath (chamomile and lavender) rounded out my evening quite nicely. I'm working my way through Pete Greig's "God on Mute" (a more full review once I've finished reading) and enjoyed laying in the bubbles and reading.
I'm thinking of heading to China Town for a while tomorrow... anyone interested in tagging along? I have a craving for these fantastic buns with barbequed pork baked into the centre of the them. I want to pick up a couple dozen, so I can freeze them and have them for lunches at work over the next while... We'll see. If the weather stays cold, I probably won't want to wander around downtown Calgary on foot.
And with that, may you go in the remembrance of the cross. May you be caught anew by the suffering of Christ, by the magnitude of the bloody significance of this day.
The Tenebrae service was fantastic. Next time I'd really like to be in the congregation, instead of a participant, as you get a bit more of the full visual impact. I couldn't see some parts as well as I would have liked from where I was sitting as a reader. I was delighted that a few friends joined us for the morning (I hope you enjoyed the service, guys!).
I spent the afternoon at Elbow Falls, near Bragg Creek, with one of
my youth girls, my brother, and one of his friends. It's become something of a tradition for me, over the last several years, to try and get away from the city, and out into the mountains for a period of time on Good Friday. I find it refreshing. And it's always fun to share it with friends! Today was a bonus - because of the cold (very unspringlike and un-easterlike if I do say so myself) weather, there were very few people at the falls, which meant we could roam a bit and laugh and chat and generally be a bit less considerate than we would have needed to be for a bit more crowded touristy type day!My mom and I baked hot-crossed buns after dinner tonight. (Actually, I think they're still finishing rising, and then we'll bake them!) I wonder if this is a distinctly Canadian thing, hot-crossed buns for Easter? Anyhow, my grandma has a fantastic recipe, which we followed, and I quite happily expect to be eating a lovely, warm bun, within the next hour or so, with a bit of butter melted onto it to make it extra fantastic!
A long bubble-bath (chamomile and lavender) rounded out my evening quite nicely. I'm working my way through Pete Greig's "God on Mute" (a more full review once I've finished reading) and enjoyed laying in the bubbles and reading.
I'm thinking of heading to China Town for a while tomorrow... anyone interested in tagging along? I have a craving for these fantastic buns with barbequed pork baked into the centre of the them. I want to pick up a couple dozen, so I can freeze them and have them for lunches at work over the next while... We'll see. If the weather stays cold, I probably won't want to wander around downtown Calgary on foot.
And with that, may you go in the remembrance of the cross. May you be caught anew by the suffering of Christ, by the magnitude of the bloody significance of this day.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Random Thursday Thoughts
I’m sitting at my desk and sipping tea, contemplating eating the blueberry yogurt granola bar that’s sitting on my desk.
My boss took the opportunity yesterday to declare today a “casual day.” The chance to wear jeans to work today was quite literally the motivator to get me out of bed this morning!
I love taking the train with my brother, T. on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. We’re close, and this time is ours, to chat, to catch up on life, to enjoy for twenty minutes or so, each others company. This morning we talked about the fact that we would both like to get away from Calgary for a bit this summer. We’ve been batting around the idea of taking a week and going someplace together, but agreed this morning that even if that doesn’t work out, we’d at least go somewhere, pretty much anywhere, really, for a few weekends here and there. That made me happy. It made me think about warmth, and summer, which has been a hard thought to summon over this last, nasty, cold and snowy week.
I’ve been thinking about lament lately… I’ll have to write a longer post on that sometime soon.
Been thinking, too, about the sense of quietness within me, how new that still feels… but that, too, is the subject of a much longer post.
I’m off for the next four days after today. Good Friday and Easter Monday are stat holidays for my company, and I’m glad. I can really use the long weekend after working for a chunk of last weekend, and all the stress that lead up to getting ready for last weekend’s conference.
I’m kicking off the weekend by having dinner and seeing a movie with Megs tonight. Can’t wait!
And then, tomorrow, I’ve got the Tenebrae service in the morning, and plans to head for the mountains for a few hours at least in the afternoon. I do love the relaxing quality of time in the mountains, out of reach of the city.
My boss took the opportunity yesterday to declare today a “casual day.” The chance to wear jeans to work today was quite literally the motivator to get me out of bed this morning!
I love taking the train with my brother, T. on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. We’re close, and this time is ours, to chat, to catch up on life, to enjoy for twenty minutes or so, each others company. This morning we talked about the fact that we would both like to get away from Calgary for a bit this summer. We’ve been batting around the idea of taking a week and going someplace together, but agreed this morning that even if that doesn’t work out, we’d at least go somewhere, pretty much anywhere, really, for a few weekends here and there. That made me happy. It made me think about warmth, and summer, which has been a hard thought to summon over this last, nasty, cold and snowy week.
I’ve been thinking about lament lately… I’ll have to write a longer post on that sometime soon.
Been thinking, too, about the sense of quietness within me, how new that still feels… but that, too, is the subject of a much longer post.
I’m off for the next four days after today. Good Friday and Easter Monday are stat holidays for my company, and I’m glad. I can really use the long weekend after working for a chunk of last weekend, and all the stress that lead up to getting ready for last weekend’s conference.
I’m kicking off the weekend by having dinner and seeing a movie with Megs tonight. Can’t wait!
And then, tomorrow, I’ve got the Tenebrae service in the morning, and plans to head for the mountains for a few hours at least in the afternoon. I do love the relaxing quality of time in the mountains, out of reach of the city.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Acerbic and Mouthy!
I’m in a rather acerbic mood this morning, generally cranky with life and people in general!
As I traveled the distance of my hour long commute by public transit this morning, my mind composed rather biting and sarcastic responses to comments that were never made. There was the woman who was rude to my brother and me yesterday morning in a passive-aggressive sort of fashion. There was the driver who slowed enough to acknowledge that I needed to cross the street, made eye contact to acknowledge that she knew I had the right-of-way and then proceeded to drive anyhow. There was the girl who pushed to be first off the train, only to stop dead, waiting inside the station at the top of the escalator in the warmth of the building for her bus, while those of us she’d pushed aside continued past her and into the cold.
All of these sorts of incidents made me rather glad that most days I have learned to control which thoughts come out of my mouth. (It may not seem that way to those of you who know me well, but trust me, I filter out quite a bit!) I was reflecting on the fact that as a child, I rarely got in trouble for defiance, or generally bad behavior, but was often in trouble for something I said, whether it was thoughtlessly rude, or deliberately designed to destroy. I received my fair share of spankings, usually because of my mouth!
Now if only I could gain control over the rather nasty and judgmental thoughts, stop having them, instead of having them but never expressing them aloud!
As I traveled the distance of my hour long commute by public transit this morning, my mind composed rather biting and sarcastic responses to comments that were never made. There was the woman who was rude to my brother and me yesterday morning in a passive-aggressive sort of fashion. There was the driver who slowed enough to acknowledge that I needed to cross the street, made eye contact to acknowledge that she knew I had the right-of-way and then proceeded to drive anyhow. There was the girl who pushed to be first off the train, only to stop dead, waiting inside the station at the top of the escalator in the warmth of the building for her bus, while those of us she’d pushed aside continued past her and into the cold.
All of these sorts of incidents made me rather glad that most days I have learned to control which thoughts come out of my mouth. (It may not seem that way to those of you who know me well, but trust me, I filter out quite a bit!) I was reflecting on the fact that as a child, I rarely got in trouble for defiance, or generally bad behavior, but was often in trouble for something I said, whether it was thoughtlessly rude, or deliberately designed to destroy. I received my fair share of spankings, usually because of my mouth!
Now if only I could gain control over the rather nasty and judgmental thoughts, stop having them, instead of having them but never expressing them aloud!
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, April 02, 2007
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!
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!
Sunday, April 01, 2007
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
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
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