Quiet Day into the Weekend

It has thankfully been a quiet day. Spent prayerfully while I work at tasks that have not exactly required the full engagement of my brain. Stapling. Sorting. Folding. Photocopying. Opening and distributing mail.

Not as enjoyably quiet as yesterday, when the bane of my professional existence was home sick with food poisoning, but quiet nonetheless.

These days quiet makes me simultaneously happy and nervous. Happy because no disaster has befallen that particular day. Nervous because “disasters” seem to be coming with great regularity lately and I find myself “waiting for the other shoe to fall.” (That last bit, by the way, is a lovely example of the weirdly awkward and non-sensical nature of English idioms.)

There is an hour and a half left in my work day.

And I’ll be really glad for the weekend to come.

It’s been a full week. Good, but full, and I’m ready to rest. One more social event tonight (a dinner at my aunt’s house, to welcome three different missionaries from West Africa – there will only be two of us in attendance who haven’t been to Africa – the “Africa virgins” of the bunch, just waiting to be converted to “sanity in our future travels.”). After this evening I have a couple of days designated mostly for laughter and rest.

We have houseguests again, but they will be making a day trip tomorrow, and my house will be blessedly empty for the day. I have plans to occupy my couch for much of the day. Reading, watching a movie or two, writing, sleeping, preparing a Sunday school lesson. Maybe cooking. A day to myself sounds like a blessing that should be taken full advantage of, don’t you think?

Decision Making

I am not good at making decisions on the spur of the moment. I do not generally enjoy spontaneity. I need time to think and evaluate things.

I say all that because I've made a couple of spur of the moment decisions this morning, and they're bothering me. One seems to have worked out well for the moment. Hopefully the same will happen with the other...

Leap of Faith?

I read this article this morning, and found it quite fascinating.

Tony Blair's Leap of Faith

Pure of Heart - Henri Nouwen

Another reflection from Henri Nouwen...

Jesus Is Pure of Heart

Jesus, the Beloved of God, has a pure heart. Having a pure heart means willing one thing. Jesus wanted only to do the will of his heavenly Father. Whatever Jesus did or said, he did and said it as the obedient Son of God: "What I say is what the Father has taught me; he who sent me is with me, and has not left me to myself, for I always do what pleases him" (John 8:28-29). There are no divisions in Jesus' heart, no double motives or secret intentions. In Jesus there is complete inner unity because of his complete unity with God.

Becoming like Jesus is growing into purity of heart. That purity is what gave Jesus and will give us true spiritual vision.

In LOVE (with words)

I absolutely love this site. Visuwords.

Seriously. I know you all already know that I'm word geek. But when I saw this on Marko's blog this morning, I had to check it out.

And I love it.

I love the visual of the connections and definitions. I love the way they all pop up.

I tried a few different words that I've been batting around a lot lately. Hope. Trust. Joy. Tears. Others. So cool.

You have to check it out.

Facebook Status Updates That Will Never Make It...

(Because My boss is my “facebook friend” and I’m supposed to be “playing nice”…)

Lisa is:

Wondering why it’s assumed that if she doesn’t do it your way, it must be wrong?

Hoping people realize that she actually has a brain.

Wondering if there’s a sign on her forehead that says “treat me like I’m stupid?”

thinking that she can’t possibly be as dumb as certain people assume, can she?

Wanting to be really rude in return.

Acknowledging that any email that begins with “I don’t mean to be rude but…” is probably going to be rude.

Is wondering how it’s possible for someone to be completely offensive and still try to suck up to you in an email?

Only responding politely because she likes her boss, and her boss asked her to “play nice.”

Quoting Parker Palmer

I recently read most of Parker Palmer's book , "Let Your Life Speak". I found it to be challenging and well worth the read, particularly chapter 4, which deals with his experience of depression. That chapter may well be one of the most insightful things I've ever read about depression.

Here are three short quotes from other parts of the book...

But before we come to that center, full of light, we must travel in the dark. Darkness is not the whole of the story – every pilgrimage has passages of loveliness and joy – but it is the part of the story most often left untold. When we finally escape the darkness and stumble into the light, it is tempting to tell others that our hope never flagged, to deny those long nights we spent cowering in fear. The experience of darkness has been essential to my coming into selfhood, and telling the truth about that fact helps me stay in the light. (pg. 18)

By surviving passages of doubt and depression on the vocational journey, I have become clear about at least one thing: self-care is never a selfish act – it is simply good stewardship of the only gift I have, the gift I was put on earth to offer to others. Anytime we can listen to true self and give it the care it requires, we do so not only for ourselves but for the many others whose lives we touch. (pg. 30-31)

If we are to live our lives fully and well, we must learn to embrace the opposites, to live in a creative tension between our limits and our potentials. We must honor our limitations in ways that do not distort our nature, and we must trust and use our gifts in ways that fulfill the potentials God gave us. (pg. 55)

Bruised, Bumbling, but Smiling

Can someone please tell me how it is that bruises just randomly appear on my body? What on earth am I doing in my sleep that is causing bruises, but is not waking me up? I woke up this morning with three (albeit light and minor) bruises on my left forearm, spanning the arm, in roughly the shape of a triangle. (I try to do things geometrically you know...)

My heart continues to feel quite bruised as well. But (I hope) it’s slowly healing too. I was reflecting with a friend last night on one particularly intense weekend of conversations I was involved in at the beginning of the month, and realized that as difficult as it was at the time, I don’t particularly regret it, and there were moments of rest and healing in it too.

Life feels like a bumbling sort of ride at the moment. A number of things in transition. AGAIN. I’m moving at the end of June, though we haven’t yet found a place to live. I’m trying to sort out finances, and the reality of a likely rent increase, and the bigger reality that the raise I will likely get in September won’t likely even cover the rent increase. Things feel topsy turvy, and it has been difficult to find reasons to smile these last few days.

Last night a dear friend helped me find ways to laugh, and I'm grateful for that. It was so needed, and I went to bed and slept more peacefully than I have for most of the last week, and particularly the last couple of days.

This morning, by a gift of grace, I’ve landed in a place where I am conscious of many things that are reasons to smile. It’s a desperately needed gift, and one I’m so thankful for.

So, without further ado, here are some of the things that are making me smile:

• fresh, homemade banana bread
• string cheese
• worms. I've liked worms since I was a child... the slimy way they felt in my hands, the tickling while they wiggled. There was a kid's song that went "worms after the rain, I guess they just love rainbows. Worms after the rain. I love each one of those sweet little, worms after the rain" We've had an abundance of rain lately, and I was out walking on Monday night, just after a week of rain finally drew to a close. I took great pleasure in rescuing a few worms from a fate of dried up death on the sidewalk where they'd crawled.
• bottled water
• the prospect of getting my hair cut and hi-lighted tonight, and basically being pampered for a couple of hours
• long conversations with dear friends
• a date for breakfast with my best friend next week, just before she drives me to the airport so I can go visit another friend
• passion tea
• thrift store purchases of three pairs of capri pants that are work friendly, and that fit my somewhat skinnier than usual body
• the return of the sun
• the season where flip-flops (or jandals as my Kiwi roommates call them) can be worn most anytime and any place
• a bright orange gerbera daisy plant adding some color to the plant life on my desk
• canned peaches
• plans to have coffee and probably pray with a dear friend tomorrow evening
• a restful night
• a fun new novel I'm reading
• an almost full journal, and the prospect of beginning a fresh one sometime in the next few days
• a decent night (at least 4 straight hours!) of sleep for a change
• a friend who took time to find ways to make me laugh
• that it's Wednesday which means the week is over half-way done
• progress on my work "to do" list yesterday, and likely progress again today
• candles lit all over my bedroom
• a favorite blanket to curl up in
• kleenex - which I'm keeping in business during this very "teary" season of life, which also falls in the midst of allergy season!
• left-over roasted chicken, potatoes and veggies for dinner last night
• long, hot baths, and lavender scented bath bombs

Peru in the news again...

Peru's Poor Left Behind

Frustration as Motivation?

This has not been a good day.

I have money woes.

And car accident woes, which are contributing to the money woes.

I have house hunting woes, which are contributing to the money woes.

But hey, apparently anger and frustration and stress are motivators, because I made huge headway on my "to do" list at work today.

And my list of emails that required follow-up. That list went from 30 items down to 9 items.

My Secret Heart

It's been another hard day so far. I'm listening to various Bob Bennett albums. I'm caught in particular by the song "My Secret Heart".

In my secret heart where I really live
I am longing for peace and the will to forgive
In my secret heart where I run to hide
Nobody knows me but you
There's a dark cloud hanging
Full of pain
And I'm caught out in the rain
In my secret heart a stillness gives way
To the sound of a longing for a better day
Behind the easy laughter is a man who is afraid
That he will repeat every mistake that he has made
The lightning flash of anger
Like a drug against the pain
And my secret heart was drowning in the rain
In my secret heart where I really live
I am longing for peace and the will to forgive
In my secret heart where I run to hide
Nobody knows me but you
Nobody can know me but you
Nobody knows me in my secret heart

Collecting Moments

I find myself in need of a collection of moments tonight, times from the weekend that were good, moments where I was able to deeply rest in the love of God. Things that made me smile. I need the reminders tonight.

• listening to my brother, T. lead worship... hearing his heart as he shared and directed our hearts towards the Father
• hearing a woman who has been a missionary in West Africa for 35 years speak with deep love for that country, and for the people there
• about a year ago a young woman I know announced that she was pregnant. several months later she married the father. On Sunday I cuddled her 4 month old daughter for the first time, and she is a beautiful miracle. I had seen the baby before, but I'd been ill, and unable to gather her to myself. Yesterday I held her and smiled as she wiggled and smiled back at me.
• seeing deer in the park on Friday night
  
• rain running down my face

Arguing with Insurance Companies

I promise a longer post sometime later today, or tonight, telling you a bit about my weekend. It was mostly (with the exception of the car accident, and some brief panic at the possible costs of the car accident) a quiet and good weekend.

However, I am dealing with insurance companies far too much lately.

I am fighting with our health-care insurance provider in regards to a claim I made well over a month ago to pay for an eye exam and for a portion of my new glasses. It’s not going well. We’re arguing about whether or not I sent the correct “original” receipt for the eye exam. (I did.) After much arguing, and not returning my phone calls, they have seen fit to put a cheque in the mail for the amount for the glasses, but are still hesitating on paying for the eye exam. Apparently the gentleman I spoke with this morning will “look into it and call me back.” (I’ve heard that before.) My boss assures me that if this is not straightened out, there are people we can get involved to make it go more smoothly next time

I’m also waiting for a phone call from an adjuster from my roommate’s insurance company. It was my roommate’s car that I was driving when I had the accident. I’ll get to over the whole situation in all the “gory” (it wasn’t gory) details. I’ll answer annoying questions about whether or not I’d consumed drugs or alcohol, and was I talking on my cell phone at the time? And then, I’ll pay for the inevitable increase in my roommate’s insurance premium.

This is an eye-rolling sort of day. A “I got slightly rude on the phone with the English is not his first language” insurance company guy day.

Perhaps I should qualify my current frustration and say that I understand that not all insurance companies are such a royal pain in the behind. In fact, I work for an insurance company…

Here’s to hoping it can only go up from here!

Jesus is/does... (from Henri Nouwen)

Jesus is Poor

Jesus, the Blessed One, is poor. The poverty of Jesus is much more than an economic or social poverty. Jesus is poor because he freely chose powerlessness over power, vulnerability over defensiveness, dependency over self-sufficiency. As the great "Song of Christ" so beautifully expresses: "He ... did not count equality with God something to be grasped. But he emptied himself, ... becoming as human beings are" (Philippians 2:6-7). This is the poverty of spirit that Jesus chose to live.

Jesus calls us who are blessed as he is to live our lives with that same poverty.

Jesus is Gentle

Jesus, the Blessed One, is gentle. Even though he speaks with great fervor and biting criticism against all forms of hypocrisy and is not afraid to attack deception, vanity, manipulation and oppression, his heart is a gentle heart. He won't break the crushed reed or snuff the faltering wick (see Matthew 12:20). He responds to people's suffering, heals their wounds, and offers courage to the fainthearted.

Jesus came to bring good news to the poor, sight to the blind, and freedom to prisoners (see Luke 4:18-19) in all he says, and thus he reveals God's immense compassion. As his followers, we are called to that same gentleness.

Jesus Mourns

Jesus, the Blessed One, mourns. Jesus mourns when his friend Lazarus dies (see John 11:33-36); he mourns when he overlooks the city of Jerusalem, soon to be destroyed (see Luke 19:41-44). Jesus mourns over all losses and devastations that fill the human heart with pain. He grieves with those who grieve and sheds tears with those who cry.

The violence, greed, lust, and so many other evils that have distorted the face of the earth and its people causes the Beloved Son of God to mourn. We too have to mourn if we hope to experience God's consolation.

Peru in the news...

Peru Recovers Mass Grave Bodies

Re-Learning (Blessed be Your Name)

It's interesting to me how something that you've been taught in such a way that you were certain you would never be able to ignore or forget it, can be easily forgotten or ignored in the midst of hard spaces.

A few days ago I wrote here about some of the lessons I learned in the midst of the many years that I suffered from depression.

A few nights ago I stood in a park, on the bank of a creek, in spots I've often gone to walk and pray, and had to resubmit myself to one of those lessons.

"I learned that God is sovereign, and even in the darkest of spaces He is absolutely, completely and totally worthy of my worship."

I have again been living in the dark spaces - not the depression of years past, but deep and in many ways very similar struggles. And I have been angry at finding myself again in these spaces. And it has been very easy to push God to the side. To blame him for the way my life has looked this last while.

So I stood on the creek bank, with the rain running down my face, reminding me of the tears that won't quite fall, and began to re-learn what it means to worship a sovereign God in the midst of the dark spaces. And I was reminded of the song lyrics that Jesus used to teach me that lesson in the first place.

Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
(Matt Redman)

Blessed be His name. In the desert place. In the wilderness. On the road marked with suffering. When offering praise is painful. When the darkness closes in. My heart is choosing again to bless His name.

Cooking and other evening thoughts

L. (our future roommate) and I are cooking dinner. We decided that since it was the weekend, and since we have no particular evening plans other than relaxing, we would cook a really nice meal.

So we're cooking "Fantastic Roasted Chicken" (recipe here) and serving it with roast potatoes, steamed snap peas, and steamed carrots in an orange-brown sugar sesame herb glaze.

We joked about the fact that we could use lots of garlic, cause we're not seeing boys tonight!

The plan is to throw a goofy, fun, possibly even sappy movie into the dvd player after dinner, curl up with some microwave popcorn, and flip through the stack of cookbooks we picked out at the library this afternoon, looking for future weekend cooking plans.

I'll bake banana bread at some point tonight. And hang our shower curtain liner.

We did errands for probably 5 hours this morning. The farmer's market, the grocery store, a wine shop, and a fantastic little European bakery (we bought pastries for dessert following our dinner tonight). I bought some gifts for some friends at 10,000 villages.

I took a long, lavender scented bath, and read a book this afternoon. At the moment, I'm contemplating dozing off on the couch in between checking on the chicken in the oven.

Tomorrow afternoon L. and I will pull out the scrapbooking supplies, and make some greeting cards, fulfilling a need we're both feeling to "do something artistic".

Our apartment is starting to smell pretty fantastic.

It's been a pretty good (though with a few car accident from last night related blips) day.

Beautiful Plans

This is the first Saturday in a while that I've greeted with anticipation.

I walked for a long time in the park, in the rain last night, talking with Jesus, and watching creation. The longer I walked and prayed, the harder it rained. I saw a couple of deer, and some geese and ducks, listened to the birds singing out. The rain ran down my face, pooled in the corners of my eyes, and slipped, like the tears that won't quite come, down my cheeks. It was a gift - rich and deep and healing.

And then I had a minor car accident. But that is something that is surprisingly okay as well.

I spoke for a long time with a dear friend when I arrived home. Sharing of hearts, and laughter, and praying together. The second gift.

I was up way too late, but slept deeply, without dreams or waking for about four straight hours, and then slept a couple hours more after that. That too was a gift.

And so, I'm greeting this morning with anticipation, with peace, with rest, with some degree of joy. I have a long list of things to be accomplished today, but they are mostly things that will feed my soul and bring a smile to my face.

These are the things I need to do today or tomorrow:

• shop for groceries
• purchase a bottle of wine
• visit the Farmer's Market (to buy the best homemade turkey-mango sausage, fruit, bath salts, honey, and maybe some beeswax candles)
• hang a new liner for our shower curtain
• visit 10,000 Villages and purchase a few items I should have bought a few weeks back, and a few gifts
• bake banana bread
• mop our kitchen floor
• visit the library
• help our future roommate pack and move her things from her current place to our house, and to her temporary lodging for the next month until we move to a new place
• buy flowers
• email a friend
• write a card for my aunt and enclose a gift I purchased in Rome (a tiny silver crucifix, bought at the Vatican - a gift for my aunt who is not only one of my favorite people, but a nun.) My parents are visiting her in about two weeks, and will deliver my card and gift for me.
  
• rest
• read
• laugh
• cook something fantastic
• and possibly even take a nap!
  

Jesus' Self-Portrait - Henri Nouwen

Another thought from Henri Nouwen

Jesus' Self-Portrait

Jesus says: "Blessed are the poor, the gentle, those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst for uprightness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted in the cause of uprightness" (Matthew 5:3-10). These words offer us a self-portrait of Jesus. Jesus is the Blessed One. And the face of the Blessed One shows poverty, gentleness, grief, hunger, and thirst for uprightness, mercy, purity of heart, a desire to make peace, and the signs of persecution.

The whole message of the Gospel is this: Become like Jesus. We have his self-portrait. When we keep that in front of our eyes, we will soon learn what it means to follow Jesus and become like him.

3 Stones

I have three stones sitting on my desk this morning, each with a word etched into it. Physical reminders of the things I'm clinging to.

One was a gift from a friend. A red stone, heart-shaped, with the word "loved" etched into it.

The other two I purchased at a local fair-trade shop called 10,000 Villages.

The first is smooth and round and simply bears the word "courage".

The second is also somewhat heart-shaped and has the word "hope" carved into it's surface.

I need the reminder that I am loved, that I am "not alone" this morning. I need the ability to cling to courage, to physically hold it in my hand. And hope. Hope has been the word for this season. The thing I've clung to. The thing that has at times seemed to be slipping from my grasp. Especially this week. So I roll it through my fingers as well, and let my heart talk to Jesus a little. Thanking him for loving me and going with me, for sending a few dear friends who can do the same. Asking for courage in the face of immense and overwhelming fears, and for hope in the midst of the hopelessness.

Reasons to Keep Going

I'm feeling pretty buried by life tonight. Really reaching for reasons to smile. I'm looking into booking a hotel room or figuring out a way to get away by myself for a few hours this weekend... just time to hash some things out... with God, with myself... I'm pretty much taking life 24 hours at a time these days... It's all I have energy to handle right now...

Here are a few of the (rather weak, I know) reasons to keep going - the little things that are bright spots, the things I'm looking forward to right now:

• tomorrow is casual day, and I get to wear jeans to work
• it's Friday, which means there's a weekend coming, and hopefully a little bit of rest
• I'm watching the Grey's Anatomy season finale as I write this
• I'm having Subway for lunch tomorrow with a friend
  
• On Sunday, I get a break from fasting again, and I can eat chocolate, and dessert, and pastries from this fabulous little bakery we discovered last weekend
• one of my roommate's is out of town, and I have her car, which means I get a day off of taking the train to and from work, and a day without being cussed out by random mentally ill people (which has been happening a lot lately)
• the fact that my dreams are continuing to get more intense and vivid must mean that this whole mess is climaxing, and will have to end soon
• in a few weeks I'm going to visit a very dear friend for a weekend
• next week I'm getting a much needed haircut, and my once yearly splurge on highlights (red AND blonde)
• I'm hanging with a couple of very good friends in the coming week
• I DON'T have to teach Sunday school this week
• I'm going to make time to go to the park, even if it's pouring rain
• I'm going to buy special gifts for some friends this weekend
• I'm going to pray (or try anyway...)
• I'm still alive
• and breathing
• I'm loved
• by Jesus
• by people who I love deeply in return

So, I'm buried... but I'm going to keep going. For chocolate, and the promise of a hug in an airport, and time laughing with my best friend, and eating with another friend, for walking in a park, for pastries from a bakery, and maybe a glass of wine. For wearing jeans to work, and a week off from teaching. For a day without anyone cussing me out (in my hearing anyway). Because I'm loved, and because I love others. Because breathing still seems to be the best option.

Lessons in the Midst of Darkness

Drew raised a question on his blog the other day about the ways depression can “minister”. I’m not particularly sure how to answer that, because “minister” is a bit of a loaded word for me right now, but it did get me thinking about some of the things I learned in the midst of the seven years I suffered from depression.

A few months ago another friend, as a way of illustrating a point in a much longer conversation asked me “Do you regret your experience with depression?” I answered her in the following way, “I regret sometimes that I lost what is at this point nearly a third of my life to that place of despair and hopelessness, but no, I don't generally regret the depression. I experience hope and joy more deeply because of it. It's opened so many doors into the broken hearts of others - doors that not many with my "super-christian" background can walk through because of the stigmas attached to mental illness. It taught me how deeply a word of encouragement can be needed, and how important it is to speak those out whenever possible. I could go on I suppose...”

And so, these last few months, as I’ve once again skirted the edges of darkness (managing, for the moment to remain above the abyss), I’ve been thinking again about the things I learned in the midst of those years where there was nothing but darkness, and I thought I’d share some of those lessons…

I learned that you have to honor the questions and the lack of resolution as much as you honor the answers and the resolution.

I learned that you shouldn’t make decisions or take strong actions on the really bad days. And that you can’t let all the bad days become completely paralzying - because if they're all bad days and you're not making decisions on the bad days, you get stuck in a hellish sort of cyclical rut.

I learned that God is sovereign, and even in the darkest of spaces He is absolutely, completely and totally worthy of my worship.

I began the (ongoing) process of learning that it is okay to be honest, and even angry with God, and that he doesn’t generally “smite” you for your honesty or anger.

I learned that light and darkness are far more intertwined than most people would care to admit, and that, in the words of Bruce Cockburn, sometimes you take “another step deeper into darkness, closer to the light.”

I learned that in those moments when you are the most spent, when you have absolutely nothing left to offer, and more is still required of you, God is faithful, just in that moment, just as you need it, to provide the more that is required.

I learned that sometimes just sitting and sipping a cup of tea can be a prayer.

I learned that suffering, despite the “re-assuring” words of many, is rarely beautiful when you’re in the midst of it, but that beauty really is offered for ashes, and you just may not see that until you reach the other side.

I learned that if you find friends who can love you deeply in your darkest spaces, you should hold onto them – they’ll be some of the best people to be around when you’re no longer walking in the dark.

I learned that if there is something or someone who can make you smile or laugh, even if the smile or laugh only penetrates your head and doesn’t make it to your heart, you should spend as much time as possible with that person or thing.

I learned that if someone offers to pray for and with you, even if that someone makes you cringe inside, you should probably let them. Sometimes the prayers of someone outside the darkness can push the edges of the darkness back for a little while.

I learned that a hug is truly one of the greatest gifts.

I learned that sometimes, just having someone who will sit with you and listen as you empty your heart, and hold you as you cry, is the most healing thing possible.

I learned that even in the midst of darkness, creation cries out the name of Jesus. And that you should spend time in that creation, because it lets light in.

I'd imagine that there are more lessons... in fact, I'm certain there are, but these are some of the ones that spring immediately to mind.

Almost Done

The workday ends in 3 minutes.

I'm going back out into the soggy weather.

My mom is feeding me dinner. My parents have company staying with them - a long-time friend who works as a missionary in West Africa. So, I'll eat and visit for a while.

Then home.

Sleep was nearly non-existent again last night. Another attempt is forthcoming.

These days I'm still surprised that the vivid intensity of my dreams can still surprise me.

1 minute to go.

another post later perhaps.

good night.

In the News

A few headlines catching my attention today...

US "Stuck" with Guantanamo Prison

Columbia Gunman takes Hostages

Israel hit by Bible Burning Row

"Witches" Burnt to Death in Kenya

Breath and Freedom - Henri Nouwen

More great thoughts from Henri Nouwen

The Breath of God Within Us

When we speak about the Holy Spirit, we speak about the breath of God, breathing in us. The Greek word for "spirit" is pneuma, which means "breath." We are seldom aware of our breathing. It is so essential for life that we only think about it when something is wrong with it.

The Spirit of God is like our breath. God's spirit is more intimate to us than we are to ourselves. We might not often be aware of it, but without it we cannot live a "spiritual life." It is the Holy Spirit of God who prays in us, who offers us the gifts of love, forgiveness, kindness, goodness, gentleness, peace, and joy. It is the Holy Spirit who offers us the life that death cannot destroy. Let us always pray: "Come, Holy Spirit, come."

Jesus' Freedom

Jesus was truly free. His freedom was rooted in his spiritual awareness that he was the Beloved Child of God. He knew in the depth of his being that he belonged to God before he was born, that he was sent into the world to proclaim God's love, and that he would return to God after his mission was fulfilled. This knowledge gave him the freedom to speak and act without having to please the world and the power to respond to people's pains with the healing love of God.

That's why the Gospels say: "Everyone in the crowd was trying to touch him because power came out of him that cured them all" (Luke 6:19).

Neither invasive or evasive

I'm thinking a lot about depression again lately. About the seven years of my life that I struggled so desperately with it. About all those times when I'd lost hope completely, and simply begged God to let me die, because I knew I could never quite manage to take my own life. About the times when someone would pray for me, and I would have a week or two of reprieve. And about the way it felt when that reprieve began to slip - the watching as my fingers slid off that cliff edge that they'd been clinging to. About how, after a while, I simply stopped telling people what was going on with me - because it was tiring to always be the one who was broken, the one for whom the prayers never worked.

I'm thinking about healing too. About how, nearly three years ago now, in a moment that was gentle and unexpected, the depression was simply gone. About how it took me three months to understand that this was not just another reprieve, that something truly miraculous had occurred in my life. Lately I've been wondering if that healing is a permanent thing? I don't think I'm depressed just currently, but I am amply aware that I am skirting the edges of that chasm, and that it would be easy to fall into that space.

I was listening again to a radio documentary on depression and spirituality that I downloaded a couple of months ago. I keep coming back to this program, for the unique insights it offers.

This morning, I am caught by the words of one of the interview subjects, Parker Palmer. He is speaking of the sort of community necessary, or at least desirable, to help one who struggles with depression or mental illness heal. He says, "...A community that is neither invasive of the mystery nor evasive of the suffering, but is willing to hold people in a sacred space of relationship where somehow this person who is on the dark side of the moon can get a little confidence that they can come 'round to the other side."

"Neither invasive of the mystery nor evasive of the suffering."

Not the easiest of goals, but so necessary.

There have been a few people in my life who have modeled this. Friends along the way who let me be who I was - for I encountered the mysteries of God in the depression, but also suffered deeply.

There are friends who are doing this for me now, though depression is not precisely the word I would use to describe these last several months of wrestling. Friends who are encouraging the mystery, not explaining it away. But friends who are also willing to listen, and to enter my suffering. I know, more clearly now, in the midst of one of the darkest spaces of my life, that I am deeply loved. My friends have shown me love, and, because of that, have helped me to understand in new ways that I am loved by God as well.

On Tears...

I really liked this article about tears.

Getting Away

I'm teaching Sunday school this morning.

Then, once church is over, my roommate, our future roommate, and I are coming home to pick up some stuff, and we're heading out of town.

We've booked a hotel room in Southern Alberta for the night, and we're planning to sit in that room, watch a "light and fluffy" movie, paint our toenails, sip wine, and eat a number of rather delectable purchases from the farmer's market and a local European deli.

We'll spend half of tomorrow touring a beautiful national park, right on the American border, and then we'll drive home, to back at work on Tuesday when the long weekend is over.

I really need to get away and just be girly and laugh for a day or so. This last week was brutal in a whole variety of ways, and I'm tired. My whole body aches, and I need a day where I'm not doing anything connected to all of the stressors in my life right now.

I'll see you tomorrow or Tuesday!

Don't Change the Book - Prince Caspian

I saw the new "Chronicles of Narnia" movie "Prince Caspian" last night with my brother and a bunch of his friends. I thought it would be the highlight of our evening. Instead, the highlight was sitting in a car, in front of my parent's house, beginning to catch up with each other since he'd been away for two and a half weeks, sharing hearts.

Neither of us liked the movie. In fact, we liked it so little that we're not sure we'd go see another new Narnia movie.

Why do movie creators feel a need to change the perfectly good stories in a book? The magic was gone. None of the playfulness, the nods to mythology with Bacchus and waking the trees. By our estimation, about 2/3 of the movie was not from the book. Much was added, and it did little for me in terms of enjoying the story. It didn't pull me in. It was essentially, as my brother put it, "like any other Hollywood action movie". Epic battle scenes. The triumph of good. Blah. Blah. Blah. No magic.

My favorite scene (admittedly a minor one in the book) was also missing.

There is a scene in the book that has spoken deeply to my heart this last year, where Susan (the oldest girl) re-encounters Aslan after avoiding and denying him...

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.

(Prince Caspian, pg. 386)

Before 8 am and Into the Day

These are the things I accomplished prior to 8:00 this morning (apparently you can be productive if you get up when you can no longer sleep):

• shower
• shave my legs
• read 20 pages or so of a novel
• french braid my hair into two braids
• moisturize

These are some of the things I'm going (or hoping) to do the rest of today:

• clean off my desk
• fold clean laundry from a week ago and put it away
• prepare a Sunday school lesson for tomorrow
• pack for an overnight trip I'm taking with my roommate and a friend tomorrow night
• cook something (anything really!)
  
• hang with some friends
• go with my roommate to get her nose pierced
• clean our laundry room
• sweep the hallway/bathroom/kitchen/my bedroom
• chat on the phone with a couple friends
• buy a new shower curtain liner and hang it
• read
• do something creative
• go to the farmer's market
• buy wine for a couple of upcoming trips
• rehang our coat hooks by the front door
• go to the park
  

Angry

I just sent a longtime friend of mine the following email:

So, you remember all of those times you tried to convince me to admit that I was angry at God? I'm there. Now what?

Lisa

The trouble with growing up in a relatively conservative church that doesn't necessarily encourage you to express negative emotions is this: When you have those negative emotions, and finally get around to admitting that you have them, you have no idea what to do with them, but you're fairly certain that you'll get hit by a lightning bolt from heaven if you express them.

This is not easy to figure out.

The Long Way...

I have to be in just the right mood to listen to the Dixie Chicks. I love country music, but I find the attitude of the "chicks" oddly abrasive most of the time. If I am in one of two moods, though, I crave certain songs of theirs.

If I am defiantly joyful about life choices.

If I am feeling oddly insecure and bittersweet about those same choices.

I'm feeling the latter today.

Wondering why my life path looks the way it does just presently. Wishing that "conventional" had been a bit more in the cards, particularly when it comes to my spiritual life.

So today, I'm listening to the Dixie Chicks. "Taking the Long Way Around". I'm particularly caught by the last stanza, the line "it can get pretty lonely when you show yourself". I'm there right now. My life exposed and open in some ways. I have some deeper relationships, with God and dear friends than I've ever had, and I'm lonelier, more exhausted, and angrier than I've ever been at exactly the same time. The only one I've ever been good at following is Jesus (and I'm not even that good at that) and following Him has been anything but conventional... leading of course to the odd hodge-podge of emotions I'm experiencing these days.

My friends from high school
Married their high school boyfriends
Moved into houses in the same ZIP codes
Where their parents live

But I, I could never follow
No I, I could never follow

I hit the highway in a pink RV with stars on the ceiling
Lived like a gypsy
Six strong hands on the steering wheel
I've been a long time gone now
Maybe someday, someday I'm gonna settle down
But I've always found my way somehow
By taking the long way
Taking the long way around
Taking the long way
Taking the long way around

I met the queen of whatever
Drank with the Irish and smoked with the hippies
Moved with the shakers
Wouldn't kiss all the asses that they told me to

No I, I could never follow
No I, I could never follow

It's been two long years now
Since the top of the world came crashing down
And I'm getting' it back on the road now
But I'm taking the long way
Taking the long way around
I'm taking the long way
Taking the long way around
The long
The long way around

Well, I fought with a stranger and I met myself
I opened my mouth and I heard myself
It can get pretty lonely when you show yourself
Guess I could have made it easier on myself
But I, I could never follow
No I, I could never follow
Well, I never seem to do it like anybody else
Maybe someday, someday I'm gonna settle down
If you ever want to find me I can still be found
Taking the long way
Taking the long way around
Taking the long way
Taking the long way around

Quoting Meredith

I've been "in love" with Grey's Anatomy since the first season it came on television.

Certain phrases, particularly those spoken by Meredith, have been rather defining of various life moments these last few years.

Phrases like "I'm an adult. When did that happen, and how do I make it stop?"

Lately I've been using her phrase, "Seriously?!?!" quite a lot. It's been applicable to so many things in my life. I've directed it at myself, at friends, and at God.

There was a great line, at the end of last night's episode, where Meredith is finally realizing she needs help, and beginning to let the psychiatrist she's been seeing help her. This particular line describes how I'm feeling about life today.

"...I'm broken. Fix me...."

Could somebody please fix me?

A Few Links

I liked this cartoon at "The Naked Pastor" this week. I've asked that question (though I know it's not the best one) a lot lately.

And, I liked this "sidewalk psychiatry" that someone did. (ht to ysmarko)

Piling On

I told someone tonight that lately I feel toxic. Like I'm poisonous and infectious.

I'm tired of toxic.

I'm tired of the fact that none of the things that usually work to get rid of this feeling are working lately.

It's piling on. And I'm not quite sure what to do about it anymore.

I'm going to write. On paper.

And then I'm going to try to sleep.

I'll start again tomorrow.

Headlines...

On my radar today... catching my attention and causing me to pray...

Shootback: The Keenest Eyes of Africa

Hope Fading: Quake Toll Could Reach 50,000

Rwanda Genocide Survivor Burnt to Death by Gang

Peru Sets up Environment Ministry

Underground

It’s my least favorite part of my daily commute to and from work. Three minutes or so in the morning, and three minutes or so in the late afternoon. Three seasons of the year, when it’s not dark in the mornings and evenings, I walk down the long ramp, into the dank, concrete tunnel – the quickest way from my home to the station where I catch a train. It runs beneath a major intersection – the city’s way of not slowing traffic with pesky pedestrians.

On a good day, the musty air smells like marijuana. On a bad day it smells like urine, courtesy, most likely of the people I occasionally encounter sleeping along the wall.

I walk in the dimly lit underground with only one headphone on, constantly checking over my shoulder to see who else is coming.

And I think about that scripture that says “Perfect love drives out fear” and I find myself wondering “Even this Lord, the fear of harm?” and “Isn’t it sometimes okay to fear? It makes me take precautions for my own safety?”

Lately, as I walk, the tunnel reminds me a little of a grave. It never sees sunlight, never really sees fresh air. The air is stale, and doesn’t move. The lighting (when it’s working) is dim, and shadows are everywhere.

It’s hard to breathe when you’re underground.

It’s hard to breathe when you feel buried. When the light is dim and seems a long way off. When you’re looking over your shoulder and waiting for the attack to come.

There’s something beautiful about coming up on the other end of the tunnel. Walking back up the ramp on the opposite side and emerging into the sunlight.

A friend and I have talked a lot about Lazarus lately. The topic came up during Lent, when I taught the story to my Sunday school girls, and it has captured my attention. We’ve talked about being called forth from death, from the grave, and having the graveclothes that hinder us removed.

“And the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound in graveclothes, his face wrapped in a headcloth. Jesus told them, ‘Unwrap him and let him go!’” (John 9:44 NLT)

The New Revised Standard Version translates that last phrase “Unbind him and let him go.”

These days, as I walk through the tunnel each morning and afternoon, as I go underground and am reminded of death, and of being bound, I find myself praying, first for myself, and then for many dear friends. I pray that we would each hear the voice of Jesus calling us forth from the grave, and that we would hear Him sending us out into life “unbound” and free to go.

Hungry and Thirsty

My body can’t seem to decide which way it wants to go some days.

There will be days and weeks on end where my appetite is limited, and I feel ill every time I eat.

And then, then there are days where I eat everything in sight, and still find myself hungry.

Today is one of the latter sort of days.

I’m ravenous.

I ate breakfast. And a snack. And lunch. And a snack. And a snack.

I’m also ridiculously thirsty. I’ve gone through something like 5 half-litre bottles of water today, as well as a cup of tea.

I’ve run out of food and there’s still an hour left in the workday. The only things around the office that could be pillaged are candy and chocolate. I’m still fasting candy and chocolate.

So, I guess I’ll go with hunger until I get home from work. Two more hours seems a long time.

I’m reminded of Lauren Winner’s statement about fasting as I sit here and try to convince my stomach that we’ll make it until I get home just fine without food. She says “Fasting reminds us that our truest hunger is for God.”

I guess I’ll keep reminding myself of that too. Jesus the bread of life, and Jesus the living water.

Overthinking?

I have a headache. I think it’s from having a particularly stiff neck and upper back at the moment, but it could be from any number of things, including over-thinking.

I’m thinking about the following things right now:

Whether or not this is the year to begin studying for my master’s degree in counseling.

That I need to find a house or apartment or basement suite, or condo or duplex. We’ve given our landlord notice that we will be moving out at the end of June, but now we need to find somewhere to move to. Somewhere with three bedrooms and enough living space that the three of us won’t be on top of each other all the time. Somewhere that fits a few criteria such as having laundry on-site (of the free non coin-operated variety), and being within walking distance of the train.

Various possibilities for travel in the next year or so.

A long conversation I had with my roommate last night about whether or not it’s appropriate that her boyfriend spends the night on our living room floor when he comes to visit her (he lives in a city three hours away, and comes about once a month). Some of her friends find this inappropriate, but it doesn’t bother either her or me, as long as both of us are home overnight (i.e. she never stays alone in the house with him).

That I’m wondering when you stop hoping to “catch up” on sleep. If you haven’t slept properly for years, at what point do you just accept that your body’s version of a “normal” amount of sleep is apparently different from the rest of the world’s.

That I’m excited to watch America’s Next Top Model tonight.

That relationships are really the most beautiful, ugly, simple, complicated, enthralling, angering thing in the world.

That the line from Simon and Garfunkel’s “I am a Rock” that goes “If I’d never loved I never would have cried…” is surprisingly true.

That I need to call my best friend.

That I need to fold laundry.

That I need to clean my bedroom.

That I need to sweep the floor in our bathroom, hallway, kitchen, and my bedroom.

That I need to rework my budget. Again.

That I’m glad I have no plans tonight, and can go straight home from work and relax and do “domestic” type things.

That I want a manicure just for the heck of it… (and that my best friend and I have plans to get manicures together one of the next times we hang out).

That I’m loving my sparkly light purple toe-nail polish.

That the tasks on my “to do” list for work are all painfully tedious at the moment.

That I have a staff meeting I don’t want to attend this afternoon.

That I have a department meeting tomorrow morning that is likely to be extraordinarily awkward and has the potential to be explosive.

That I’m really glad this day is half-way over.

That it’s “Sarcastic Wednesday” (google this for the video that explains it).

That moving is going to be a bigger pain this time, because we’ve accumulated things in the time since I moved out of my parent’s house.

That it will take forever to pack my several thousand volume library.

That moving books is brutal.

That I should pare down my library, but know I won’t, because my books are like friends that I re-visit over and over again. They have underlining, and favorite stories, and notes in the margins.

That I need to get back to work now that I’ve emptied my head of some of the over-thinking thoughts.

A Gift and a Comic

My friend Faye stopped by my office unexpectedly today to see if I was free for lunch.

I was.

In fact, I was desperately in need of an hour with someone like Faye. Someone who has experiences that are equally ridiculous to my own. Someone who understands that you just have to laugh at some of these situations, because if you don’t laugh you will quite possibly go insane.

I was not having a very good day. I woke up this morning with things heavy on my mind and heart, very aware of some ongoing battles. I was seriously contemplating the possibility of withdrawing completely from all relationships for the next few weeks for the sake of my own sanity and survival. I’ve been struggling with physical health and pain, and today was a bad day for that as well.

And then Faye showed up. I was delighted to see her.

So we sat for an hour and ate pitas and caught up on the happenings in each other’s lives since the last time we were together. We told stories of the “I can’t believe I found myself in that situation” events that we both seem to collect. We were sarcastic. And we laughed.

She was a gift from God to me today, on a day when I badly needed the physical presence of a friend. When I needed some encouragement to face the rest of the work day and some other upcoming engagements that have the potential to be quite draining.

AND

I came across this comic strip this morning, and it made me laugh. Faith the size of a mustard seed indeed!

Regarding truth...

I've been thinking a lot about truth lately. About the cost of speaking it at times. It's seemed to have had a high cost for me lately. I've been considering silence, or dishonesty to limit the costs for a while.

I read this post on Drew's blog this morning, and liked it. I needed the reminder that as a child of God I am called to truth.

Money Can't Buy...

Whoever said that money can't buy happiness lied.

I've spent money, and bought happiness, albeit temporary. I've done it as recently as Sunday.

What money can't buy are joy and peace, the things that ultimately bring a more permanent, lasting happiness.

Emptiness and Fullness - Henri Nouwen

Emptiness and Fullness

Emptiness and fullness at first seem complete opposites. But in the spiritual life they are not. In the spiritual life we find the fulfillment of our deepest desires by becoming empty for God.

We must empty the cups of our lives completely to be able to receive the fullness of life from God. Jesus lived this on the cross. The moment of complete emptiness and complete fullness become the same. When he had given all away to his Abba, his dear Father, he cried out, "It is fulfilled" (John 19:30). He who was lifted up on the cross was also lifted into the resurrection. He who had emptied and humbled himself was raised up and "given the name above all other names" (see Philippians 2:7-9). Let us keep listening to Jesus' question: "Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?" (Matthew 20:22).

In Today's News...

Headlines catching my attention this morning:

Thousands Dead in Chinese Quake

Nepal Sets Date to End Monarchy

Nepal Arrests 560 Tibetan Women

Pole Who Saved Ghetto Jews Dies

Pakistan Government Set to Split

The Cup of Life - Henri Nouwen

More great thoughts from Henri Nouwen:

Holding the Cup

We all must hold the cups of our lives. As we grow older and become more fully aware of the many sorrows of life - personal failures, family conflicts, disappointments in work and social life, and the many pains surrounding us on the national and international scene - everything within and around us conspires to make us ignore, avoid, suppress, or simply deny these sorrows. "Look at the sunny side of life and make the best of it," we say to ourselves and hear others say to us. But when we want to drink the cups of our lives, we need first to hold them, to fully acknowledge what we are living, trusting that by not avoiding but befriending our sorrows we will discover the true joy we are looking for right in the midst of our sorrows.

Lifting the Cup

When we hold firm our cups of life, fully acknowledging their sorrows and joys, we will also be able to lift our cups in human solidarity. Lifting our cups means that we are not ashamed of what we are living, and this gesture encourages others to befriend their truths as we are trying to befriend ours. By lifting up our cups and saying to each other, "To life" or "To your health," we proclaim that we are willing to look truthfully at our lives together. Thus, we can become a community of people encouraging one another to fully drink the cups that have been given to us in the conviction that they will lead us to true fulfillment.

Drinking the Cup

After firmly holding the cups of our lives and lifting them up as signs of hope for others, we have to drink them. Drinking our cups means fully appropriating and interiorizing what each of has acknowledged as our life, with all its unique sorrows and joys.

How do we drink our cups? We drink them as we listen in silence to the truth of our lives, as we speak in trust with friends about ways we want to grow, and as we act in deeds of service. Drinking our cups is following freely and courageously God's call and staying faithfully on the path that is ours. Thus our life cups become the cups of salvation. When we have emptied them to the bottom, God will fill them with "water" for eternal life.

Pentecost: Expect the Unexpected

Today was Pentecost Sunday... a thought that probably mostly got lost in the shuffle of Mother's Day and the general busyness of early spring.

"And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, who will never leave you. He is the Holy Spirit, who leads into all truth. The world cannot receive him, because it isn't looking for him and doesn't recognize him. But you know him, because he lives with you now and later will be in you." (John 14:16-17 NLT)

"When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth..." (John 16:13a NLT)

"Then, what looked like flames or tongues of fire appeared and settled on each of them. And everyone present was filled with the Holy Spirit..." (Acts 2:3-4a NLT)

I was reflecting as I was driving home from dropping a friend off tonight that in some ways my new "motto" in life has become "Expect the Unexpected." It's a reflection of the way my life has gone lately. The expected just isn't on the table anymore, and when I get up in the morning I never quite know what a day will bring. (For that matter, when I go to bed at night, I never quite know what my sleep and dreams will bring either.)

And then, as I reflected upon this, I was reminded that it was Pentecost Sunday, and that this last year has been one of increasingly deeper encounters with the Spirit of God, and with a growing understanding of that part of my relationship with the Lord.

Expect the unexpected - a lesson that would apply equally well to my spiritual life as to the happenings of day to day life. (Not that they're particularly separate either.)

I'm caught by the idea of the Spirit being at the center of speaking truth. I'm caught by it because of some ongoing things in my life. I'm caught by it because I feel deeply the need to speak truth, and the lack of it in the lives of many, and the harm that it's lack brings.

It's Pentecost Sunday, the Spirit speaks truth, and I am reminded that it doesn't always look like what I expect.

Expect the unexpected!

Reason to Smile

My mom forwarded me an email from my baby brother, T., last night. An email that gave me a reason to smile.

He says "I've played guitar for about 20 minutes each of the last few days, and it hasn't hurt."

Such an answer to prayer. And it makes my heart sing!

Getting Ready

This is a busy day, but I'm excited for it.

I'm still carrying joy and laughter with me.

I'm understanding what it means that I am deeply loved by God and by many very special people.

I'm sitting here, with some newly purchased worship music cranked up on the stereo, and getting ready for the day.

I'm learning that the little things, the self-pampering things are worth doing.

Rubbing sweet smelling cream on dry skin.

Making my hair look beautiful (to me anyway!).

Painting the toenails.

Picking clothes that make me feel good about how I look.

I feel shallow admitting that I care about those things. (There are so many things I care much more about.) But I have to tell you, if I feel beautiful, then it's a whole lot easier for me to face the day.

So, I'm off to finish pampering myself, and to get ready for church, and then to head into the day.

I have errands to do.

I'm going to hit up a second hand shop this afternoon and see if I can find some pants and capri's for work.

I'm teaching Sunday school.

I need to buy flowers for my grandma and make Mother's Day cards for my grandma and my mom (since I forgot to buy them yesterday!).

We have an extended family party tonight - Mother's Day and two birthdays.

And then, I have to pick my roommate up at the airport late tonight.

(I bought some really fun new clothes yesterday... I might take some pictures and post them later...)

See you around!

and...

Happy Mother's Day!

On the list...

Things I've got planned for today...

• trip to the mall with my roommate
• take in the recycling
  
• buy a new nose stud (probably emerald in color)
• buy or make a mother's day card
• bake banana bread
• pizza supper
• rent a movie
• clothing shopping
• go to the bottle depot and return the bottles we've collected for money
• do something creative
• take a long bath with nice smelling stuff in the water and read a good novel
• do a bit of writing
• maybe head for the park (if it stays sunny - or possibly in the rain - a walk in the rain sounds fun)
• pick up a ring my best friend didn't have time to pick up yesterday
• book a haircut appointment
• sweep my bedroom
• sip tea
• light candles
• reorganize our kitchen cupboards (I keep buying doubles of food items because I can't see what I own)
• spend time hanging out with Jesus (in the park, or in my favorite chair, even at the mall buying a new nose jewel)
• read something that stretches my brain a little
  

Interesting Link

The BBC has a special page dedicated to the 60th Anniversary of the establishment of the state of Israel, which occurred on Wednesday.

You can find some interesting articles on that page.

Can you drink the cup?

Another great thought from Henri Nouwen...

The Cup of Life

When the mother of James and John asks Jesus to give her sons a special place in his Kingdom, Jesus responds, "Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?" (Matthew 20:22). "Can we drink the cup?" is the most challenging and radical question we can ask ourselves. The cup is the cup of life, full of sorrows and joys. Can we hold our cups and claim them as our own? Can we lift our cups to offer blessings to others, and can we drink our cups to the bottom as cups that bring us salvation?

Keeping this question alive in us is one of the most demanding spiritual exercises we can practice.

A Time to Laugh

I’m hanging out with my best friend tonight, and I can’t wait.

I love any time that we get to spend together. Right now especially, as sometime within the next couple of months, pending the arrival of a visa that’s been in process for the last 4 months, she will be leaving to spend a year or more in Pakistan, working in a small hospital for women and children, helping to deliver babies.

She’s the kind of friend who was totally willing to come with me to fill an awkward obligation tonight, but, when I called last night to let her know that I no longer needed to attend this particular event, and we could just hang out, was happy to admit that the event we’d planned to attend hadn’t been on the top of her list of fun things to do on a Friday.

Instead, we’re going out for Italian food. And then we’re going to see a girly movie together.

I feel like celebrating. Celebrating life. Celebrating our friendship. Celebrating the myriad of things we’ve walked through together these last three or four years that we’ve known each other.

We’ll sit and eat, and talk about all the important things. About her boyfriend (and the proposal of marriage she’ll likely receive sometime soon). About the things that have gone on in our weeks. We’ll share funny stories from our jobs (we both seem to collect them – me as a receptionist/admin assistant, and her as a nurse on a hospital unit that sees primarily older, slightly senile patients come through it’s doors). We’ll talk about travel plans, and the people and places we love. We’ll laugh and enjoy each other’s company with the easy familiarity of those who understand the heart of the person sitting across the table from them.

The heaviness of life lately makes evenings like this one a special treat. A time for joy and peace and rest. A time for laughter. Laughter is so important to me right now, and there are few people with whom I laugh. I could number the ones who bring laughter that penetrates all the way to my heart on one hand.

So tonight I’m going to celebrate a great friendship. I’m going to bask in joy and peace and love and laughter.

Reprieve - A Heart at Rest

Today has been a much needed reprieve. A quieting. A day where the joy that has been so hard to find could break through a little. A day for mischievous humor. A day for laughter. For Vietnamese food. For remembering who I am, and that I am loved, by God and by some very special people. For resting in all those things.

And so, I'm sitting here, in the chair in the corner of my bedroom. The spot where I come to sit and reflect. To read and pray.

Hillsong United's "The I Heart Revolution" is playing in the background. Worship recorded live all around the world, wrapping itself around my heart and drawing me into a space of prayer.

If you know me well, you could look at the space where I'm sitting right now and know that I'm in a much better heart space than I have been for most of this week. There are certain things that I do, certain signs in my physical space that indicate when my heart is quiet, and ready to meet with Jesus. Things like a tidied bedroom. Like candles lit all around my space. (There is almost always at least one candle burning in my bedroom, but when I light many it's for a different space.) Like a tall mug of tea waiting to be sipped. I do a lot of praying with my hands curled around a mug of tea.

I'm reflecting quietly tonight on a number of things. Spending some time simply sitting and listening. Spending some time talking with Jesus.

I was reading through some old emails this afternoon, and came across a link to a blog post titled "Dipping in Jordan" that my friend Kirk H. wrote just over a year ago. His words caught my heart and attention then, and they caught it again today. He speaks with great poignancy about healing (about freedom). He writes:

.... maybe true healing comes with less flash, less showmanship... maybe it comes in secret, after the praying is 'done' (though really it's never 'done').... maybe we wake up some day & go, "wow, I think I've experienced a miracle" & we wait for weeks to ensure there's no relapse & we don't shout it from the mountaintops 'cause we're really not sure what brought healing... but somewhere in our hearts, we hold on to the secret, the hope that it was a touch of the divine transforming our lives....

.... maybe healing seldom happens in the instant. Maybe it happens more over time. (Maybe I'm full of it & should stop trying to figure it out)....

... I feel a lot like Naaman, though... wanting healing, but wanting the big & flashy instead of wading into dirty old Jordan....

I love this idea of healing. Not the big and flashy (though sometimes, I too, like Naaman want it) but the gentle and simple. I've seen my own healing come in this manner. And I continue to pray that healing and freedom come in this way for my own heart and for the hearts of so many that I love.

This Sunday I'm teaching the passage in John 15 about the vine and the branches to my Sunday School girls. "Abide with me" one translation says. My heart is at rest tonight, learning again to abide in Him.

Opening Lines

I was joking with a friend on the weekend about opening lines for articles and books I could write. It came up because I made a statement that he latched on to. "That would be a great first line for a book!"

Here are a couple of "opening lines" that are bouncing around my head right now. Ideas I'm toying with...

"I was never good at acting, except in church."

"You could say I made a decision for Christ out of lazyness. It was the less labor intensive option."

Thursday Morning Musings

I’ve just finished making my first cup of tea for the week. Those of you who know me well will know that I generally make a cup of “Tazo Passion Tea” first thing in the morning most mornings at the office.

I’ve been sick for most of this week, and even tea has been unappealing. Last night I ate my first actual meal since Sunday dinner, and was delighted to keep it down.

Today is a good day for sipping tea. It’s cold and grey and rainy. In typical Calgary fashion, the rain is scheduled to turn to snow, and we may get up to 20cm before the day is out. 20cm. That’s about 8 inches. They say they don’t know how much of that will actually accumulate, since the ground is warm, but still. It’s May 8th, and they’re predicting 8 inches of snow.

I’m in an oddly humorous mood this morning. Weird things are funny to me.

My internal sarcastic voice is out in force today.

I’m listening to David Crowder Band this morning – a playlist of 3 albums (Illuminate, A Collision, and Remedy).

I’m musing about being small and unseen. About being coddled and babied and not liking it.

I’m wearing a favorite t-shirt and comfortable (but cute) shoes.

I’m rehashing conversations with friends and laughing at the memories.

I’m twitchy.

I’m eating crackers, and debating where I’m going to buy lunch.

I’m thinking about the errands I need to get done tonight.

I’m wondering what my current typing speed is, and if it’s changed in the couple of years that I’ve been working full-time.

I’m debating which item on my “to-do” list for the day I want to attack first.

I’m still thinking about and “seeing” something I witnessed on April 3rd and blogged about here.

Eventually I’ll get around to writing some “deeply thoughtful” blog post for you. My brain has been a little too engrossed in other matters to do “deeply thoughtful” this week. In the meantime, here are a couple of headlines that made me smile today:

Someone in Florida is building what appears to be an "Ark".

And NASA will pay you $5000 dollars a month to do nothing but lie in bed. This is an offer that is actually vaguely tempting!

Sharing our knowledge

Another thought from Henri Nouwen that caught my attention... I've been thinking a lot lately about how often I hesitate to share things I feel, sense, or know. I'm not sure I'm in exactly the space that Nouwen is describing, but the thought challenged me anyhow...

Sharing Freely Our Knowledge

Often we think that we do not know enough to be able to teach others. We might even become hesitant to tell others what we know, out of fear that we won't have anything left to say when we are asked for more.

This mind-set makes us anxious, secretive, possessive, and self-conscious. But when we have the courage to share generously with others all that we know, whenever they ask for it, we soon discover that we know a lot more than we thought. It is only by giving generously from the well of our knowledge that we discover how deep that well is.

Weird Day

It's been a bit of a strange day again.

Nothing I can elaborate on. Just strange.

Here's hoping this doesn't keep happening!

And Again

If you haven't read my previous post, you should read it first. You can find it here. (or you could just scroll down a little!)

As I picked myself off the floor, and began to move on with my day, I came across the song "Born", by the band "Over the Rhine". I'm finding it poignant in the midst of the spaces I'm living in right now.

Born
(Bergquist/Detweiler)

I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I'm gonna learn to love without fear

Pour me a glass of wine
Talk deep into the night
Who knows what we'll find

Intuition, deja vu
The Holy Ghost haunting you
Whatever you got
I don't mind

Put your elbows on the table
I'll listen long as I am able
There's nowhere I'd rather be

Secret fears, the supernatural
Thank God for this new laughter
Thank God the joke's on me

We've seen the landfill rainbow
We've seen the junkyard of love
Baby it's no place for you and me

I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I'm gonna learn to love without fear

Reeling

Just when I think I might actually get a break for a couple of days from the intensity of some of the stuff that's been going on over the last while, just when everything seems like there's a possibility of stuff calming down for a day or two, another wave breaks.

I'm beginning to become an expert at surviving the waves that have been crashing over me this last while. I'm getting quicker at moving from stunned to picking myself back up.

Another wave broke this afternoon - smaller this time, but still enough to knock my feet out from under me yet again and leave me reeling.

And I found myself clicking through my itunes library, randomly choosing songs, hoping to find something to provide a soundtrack that fit my mood, that would let me start talking with Jesus about this latest thing, that would let me pull my feet back under me.

The song I came across? "Sweet Mercies" by David Ruis.

It's our confession Lord, that we are weak
So very weak, but You are strong
And though we've nothing Lord, to lay at your feet
We come to Your feet and say, "Help us along"

A broken heart and a contrite spirit
You have yet to deny
Your heart of mercy beats with love's strong current
Let the river flow by your Spirit now, Lord we cry

Let Your mercies fall from heaven
Sweet mercies flow from heaven
New mercies for today
Shower them down Lord as we pray
Let Your mercies fall from heaven
Sweet mercies flow from heaven
New mercies for today
Shower them down Lord as we pray

Call for the rain
Call for the rain

And so, I lay facedown on my living room carpet, and let this prayer flow over me. Let the song cry out, and my heart echo it's cry. It helped a little.

Jesus send your rain. Shower mercies on me today. Send peace and light and hope. I'm weak - send strength. My heart is broken, piece me slowly back together.

Home Sick and in the News

I'm home sick from work today. (that probably has something to do with my inability to keep food down.) So, I'm sleeping and reading and watching television and movies. And I'm catching up on some news headlines.

These are the ones that caught my attention today:

Riding the Waves of Peru

Journey through Israel

Prepare for Bigger, More Frequent Floods

Cyclone Death Toll Raised to 22,500

Chile Erruption Spurs Evacuations

News Blackout at Everest Base Camp

In the News

Some headlines catching my eye today:



Darfur school "bombed from air"



China virus toll continues to rise



France Reveals British WW1 Cave Camp



Burmese Storm Toll Tops 10000



Jerusalem Diary: Monday May 5



China approached Vatican about concert for pope

"Me ike you"

I hung out with some friends in Canmore for the weekend, and took care of their children overnight on Saturday.

I'm not a kid person, but I do love those three children.

The youngest is a three year old boy - a ball of energy and intensity who communicates with his whole body.

He told me, at several points through the weekend "Isa, me ike you." There's something about the love of a child that is penetrating my heart deeply right now, and bringing warmth to me, and a smile.

To a Head?

I'll be involved in a meeting about my current job situation this afternoon at 1:30.

Given the way things have been going, the trouble there's been as a new member who is not a good fit has been added to our team, I'm concerned for how the meeting will go.

I suspect it will be "explosive".

I could have done without that today.

Nothing quite like being blindsided by an email "inviting" you to attend a meeting where you're to "talk about your feelings about working together and how we can work better together."

It's a definite Monday.

See you on the other side!

Henri Nouwen on friends and community

Friends and Their Unique Gifts

No two friends are the same. Each has his or her own gift for us. When we expect one friend to have all we need, we will always be hypercritical, never completely happy with what he or she does have.

One friend may offer us affection, another may stimulate our minds, another may strengthen our souls. The more able we are to receive the different gifts our friends have to give us, the more able we will be to offer our own unique but limited gifts. Thus, friendships create a beautiful tapestry of love.

The Mosaic That Shows Us the Face of God

A mosaic consists of thousands of little stones. Some are blue, some are green, some are yellow, some are gold. When we bring our faces close to the mosaic, we can admire the beauty of each stone. But as we step back from it, we can see that all these little stones reveal to us a beautiful picture, telling a story none of these stones can tell by itself.

That is what our life in community is about. Each of us is like a little stone, but together we reveal the face of God to the world. Nobody can say: "I make God visible." But others who see us together can say: "They make God visible." Community is where humility and glory touch.

Out of Town

I'm in the mountains for the weekend.

In the midst of people and things.

Glad that I'm here.

See you late Sunday or Monday!

The Little Things

Sometimes it’s the little things.

This has not been a particularly smooth day in a lot of ways. I continue to struggle.

But sometimes it’s the little things that make a day do-able.

Things like:

Wild, curly hair that is making me feel pretty.

Funky hippy earrings made of brown and white wooden beads.

Getting to run an unexpected errand from the office, and spending 10 minutes outside, walking to and from the grocery store.

A sunny sky.

Subway lunch with a coworker.

Casual Friday.

Taking a three day break from fasting.

Enjoying that first bite of a chocolate chip cookie after 7 weeks of fasting from desserts and chocolate.

Burying my fingers in the dirt while potting a plant I’ve been rooting on my desk for the last few weeks.

Putting a beautiful new plant in a very cute pot on my desk.

Cutting new plant slips (of a different sort) to root over the next few weeks.

Counting down (4 hours or so) until the work week ends.

Certain work tasks going more smoothly than expected.

Catching My Eye

This article about a windstorm in Damascus and Bee Branch, Arkansas.

This very cool optical illusion billboard from India.

Holocaust Memorial Day

One more link for you - a thoughtful article on Holocaust Memorial Day, which is being marked today.

Never Again

Presence and Abscence

I not only get a daily email from the Henri Nouwen society, I also get several others, including one from Sojourners, who used a great quote from Henri Nouwen as their "quote of the day" today. I liked the quote enough to pass it along!


Precisely where we feel most present to each other we experience deeply the absence of those we love. And precisely at moments of great loss we can discover a news sense of closeness and intimacy. This is also what the Eucharist is about. We announce the presence of Christ among us until he comes again! There is both presence and absence, closeness, and distance, an experience of at-homeness on the way home.- Henri J.M. Nouwen (Sabbatical Journey)

A few more links

I know... nothing of substance written by me today... maybe later! In the meantime, check out these two articles.

The first one made me smile. The second one clarified a bit of confusion for me.

Things I Wish I'd Known

5 Minute Guide to the Food Crisis

Scarves

Have you seen the blog "Stuff White People Like"? If you haven't, you should definitely check it out. It'll make you laugh. And nod your head in pathetic agreement.



Today's installment "#97 - Scarves" made me laugh.



Because, you, see, I wear scarves. Often. In all seasons. Around my neck. Sometimes in my hair. With or without jackets. As reminders of friends. As statements about people and places I love. Because I just happen to like scarves.

Headline that Caught My Eye

I found this article interesting. Because I've attended a number of events in the last little while that have referred to the ongoing situation in Sudan. And because Peru lays heavily on my heart and mind.

Talisman Learned Lessons From Sudan