I Need Your Help

Okay everyone, either tomorrow or Wednesday I'm planning to start posting answers to some of the questions you left for me.  But, here's the problem.  I need a fun name for this series.  And I'm drawing a blank.  So, I need some help. 

What should we call it?

Your Questions

I loved all of the questions that you left on my post the other day.  Like I said there, I'm totally inspired by questions.

So...  I've taken all of them, and listed them in my journal, where I sometimes do blog planning, and you'll start to see posts appearing over the next days, and weeks.  Thus far you've left me thirteen different questions, all of which are worthy of their own posts, so you can definitely expect to see them spread out over a while, but I promise I will answer all of them!

And, the fun's not over!  If you have more questions, or you thought of something else, leave a comment on this post, on the original post, or on any one of the answer posts, and I'll add them to my list.

Questions From You

Y'all, I'm the sort of person who does better with a question.  A specific question.  One that forces a pause in the internal stream of consciousness and a redirection.  My favorite conversations are stirred by questions, too.

So, this is your chance.  Leave a comment.  You can ask me anything you'd like.  From the simple to the absurd.  From the spiritual to the completely random and out of left field. What would you ask?  What burning questions do you have? Is there something you always wanted to know?  Something you suspect that I just might have an opinion on?  This is your chance!  I'll answer the questions in a post, or series of posts, as necessary. 

Ask away.  Ask once, or many times over.  I'm totally curious to see what you want to know!

What are you reading?

I had really good intentions of coming up with something to say here today.  I'd planned to write a post last night, but ended up sitting in a car with a friend instead, talking about all the stuff of life.

So, here's my question for you:

What are you reading lately?  What books are challenging you?  What blogs are making you laugh or cry, or just generally think about life in a way that you think everyone should be exposed to?  I'm looking for some new book titles and blogs, so leave them in the comments and we'll all benefit!

From Richard Rohr

Today's meditation from Richard Rohr was stunning, and I wanted to share it in it's entirety here:

Question of the Day:
What struggles have given me a deeper insight
into the workings of the Holy Spirit?

The best thing that I can possibly do as a teacher/preacher is to help people to recognize and trust their own deeper spiritual intuitions.  I am convinced this is what we would call the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit.  We are not alone; guidance is always being offered. 

My great disappointment in so much of institutional religion is that I don’t think it helps people to trust their deeper spiritual intuitions.  So often it appears to be doing a non-stop flight over all of that.  Often we give people answers to questions they have not yet struggled with or suffered for.  So the answers that they finally have are not deeply understood or deeply felt.  They are not their own answers, and are forgotten easily.

(Richard Rohr, "The Authority of Those Who Have Suffered")

~~~

It feels odd to post a critique of institutional religion. I'm probably the biggest proponent of the organized church that I know.  And I don't particularly care what form it takes, either.  I've met Jesus powerfully at mass, and in a crazy charismatic church, and in a home church, and sitting in the dark in a car with a friend.  I feel strongly that each one of those moments, and everything in between encompasses the body of Christ.

That said, Rohr's words hit me strongly.  Because I've had people offer me answers to questions I didn't know I had, and they weren't my answers.  I needed to go through a lot of painful experiences to have answers to those questions.  I wrote, in one way or another, about some of those experiences here, here, and here over the last week.  I'm grateful for those experiences, and for the answers that came in the midst of suffering.

They've changed the way I pray.  Though I prefer to be left alone at times to simply live out my own "mysteries of faith", my nature is to fix it.  Quick answers.  "Easy" solutions.  Box that problem up into manageable sizes.  I've learned to really value the friends who ask me to listen for my own spiritual intuition (as Rohr puts it).  And I'm learning to emulate them as I walk with others through hard parts of their journeys.

Powerful

This blog post is stunning.  I came across it via a link on twitter tonight.  To be honest, I'm not even entirely certain how I feel about the death penalty.  And as much as I preach a gospel of caring for the poor, if I'm honest, the homeless and prisoners scare me, and I'll probably go out of my way to avoid contact.  And yet, these words, this article is stunning.  It hits the heart deeply and make me question yet again the things I care about.  And maybe, after all, that's the point - to stir deep consideration, and to stir prayer.

Rolling Around...

So I have this question rolling around in my head... well, maybe two actually, and they're causing some thought and some dreams...

What if there was a way to take the stories of everyday living, the crazy experiences and the mundane, and use them to really communicate the beauty and ugliness and challenges and stunning ways of life, the ways that God is intertwined in all of that?

And what if I tried to do that?

What if I said it out loud?

What if I said it out loud? That's the question that's been echoing in my head for the last few days.

What if I said out loud that I am absolutely, madly in love with this God who will not let me go, and that, despite that, I am also terribly, burningly angry with that same God?

What if I admitted that I just don't know how to reconcile this lover who has so doggedly pursued me in the last two years with the God who has stood by while my life has fallen into chaos and despair?

What if I said that I understand the hope and desperation that Job was feeling when he cried out, "I know my redeemer lives and in the end he will stand upon the earth, and though my flesh be destroyed, I will see him with my own eyes. I myself, and not another." And then what if I said that I find myself saying "the hope of those moments is not enough when there is a Jesus who spoke of life abundant on earth."

What if I said that I am nearly equally convinced and unconvinced that there will be an end to all of this, that I will pull through this space that has been so tormented, and that I will find hope and joy and a beautiful, full, rich life?

What if I said that as much as it makes me cringe, and feels like a regimented legalism, I think I'm being asked to simply check some things off a list every day? To re-establish some habits that have died in the midst of this space.

What if I said that I don't understand how Jesus can promise a life abundant, and then stand by while the enemy torments those who have offered their lives to Jesus?

What would happen if I said all those things out loud, say in a public spot, like, oh, a blog?

Would the world cave in or come suddenly to a halt?

Would I be shamed for being less than whole?

What happens if I say it out loud?

I Can't Walk Away

I'm asking "what would happen if..." questions this morning about a lot of things.

Most of them aren't quite ready to share here.

I'm struggling deeply, and, to be honest, in some ways, I'm trying to hide from God. I'm tired. And in the rare occasions I've sensed his hand and leading and voice lately, the things He's asked have been painful and hard, tugging at my already broken heart.

I'm still listening to "Because You Are" on repeat as I drive to work each morning. "I keep singing skyward, it just never rains." Would it make sense if I said that I both desperately desire the rain, and am absolutely horrified at the thought of what it might bring?

I traded emails with a dear friend last night about a decision I needed to make. Her words were helpful in that, at least for a few moments I felt slightly less alone in the midst of some of the things I was walking through. Her words (and the words that formed in my responses) brought deep tears to the surface, and a few of them fell.

Sleep remains elusive. I'm trying not to count nights (four) or panic (too late). It becomes harder to push away the panic and anxiety when I'm not getting adequate rest. The things that haunt me become stronger and stronger as sleep becomes a more distant memory. The growing number of bruises on my arms and legs when I wake each morning tell me a story of struggle, battle, wrestling as I sleep. And that thought too, is draining.

There are days I wish I could leave Jesus behind. Where I wish that somewhere along the way, I'd found joy and peace and fulfilment of the depth I've found in Jesus somewhere else, anywhere else, because then I could leave Jesus without knowing that I was walking away from the one thing that has brought peace and joy and healing. But I can't walk away... even in those moments when I deeply fear what will happen if I keep walking forward. Even in the moments when the panic is thick and deep. I can't walk away. And that is both the most comforting and absolutely terrifying and frustrating thought in existence.

3 From Henri Again

3 more challenging thoughts from Henri Nouwen...

Healing Contradictions

The many contradictions in our lives - such as being home while feeling homeless, being busy while feeling bored, being popular while feeling lonely, being believers while feeling many doubts - can frustrate, irritate, and even discourage us. They make us feel that we are never fully present. Every door that opens for us makes us see how many more doors are closed.

But there is another response. These same contradictions can bring us into touch with a deeper longing, for the fulfillment of a desire that lives beneath all desires and that only God can satisfy. Contradictions, thus understood, create the friction that can help us move toward God.

Being Sent Into the World

Each of us has a mission in life. Jesus prays to his Father for his followers, saying: "As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world" (John 17:18).

We seldom realise fully that we are sent to fulfill God-given tasks. We act as if we have to choose how, where, and with whom to live. We act as if we were simply plopped down in creation and have to decide how to entertain ourselves until we die. But we were sent into the world by God, just as Jesus was. Once we start living our lives with that conviction, we will soon know what we were sent to do.

The Answer to Our Questions

We spend a lot of time and energy raising questions. Is it worth it? It is always good to ask ourselves why we raise a question. Do we want to get useful information? Do we want to show that someone else is wrong? Do we want to conquer knowledge? Do we want to grow in wisdom? Do we want to find a way to sanctity?

When we ponder these questions before asking our questions, we may discover that we need less time and energy for our questions. Perhaps we already have the information. Perhaps we don't need to show that someone is wrong. For many questions we may learn that we already have the answers, at least if we listen carefully to our own hearts.

5 Questions

Hope recently had this fun meme on her blog (see her questions and answers here) and invited anyone who was interested to contact her for questions and play along. I decided to jump in on the fun, and she sent me the following five questions. If you'd like to play along, leave me a comment or drop me an email, and I'll come up with five questions for you.

1. How has your relationship with God changed over the course of your blogging?

Well, I started blogging in 2005, and I was in the midst of transitioning from attending the church I grew up in as a pastor's kid, to a church that was somewhat less conservative, and was charismatic in bent. I'd never heard really dreamed that the Holy Spirit could play any more active role in my life than being the voice of my conscience, and was curious and horrified and strangely drawn. Somehow the people I met in that church had something that I didn't, and that I wanted. They knew God, instead of just talking about him.

2005 was also the last year that I suffered from severe depression before being healed, and the 7 years I struggled with depression, and the three and a bit years since the healing have profoundly shaped my life and experience of God.

My relationship with God over the years I've been blogging has changed. There's no question about it, though it's hard to put words around. It has become less about what I know, and more about what I experience and feel and see. And about finding a balance between knowledge and experience that works for me.

2. What would your dream job look like?

My dream job would involve some combination of reading, traveling, praying, and writing. If it also included extended periods of time sharing cups of tea with dear friends of the old or new variety, that would be fantastic. If anyone can figure out what job fits that description, and how I can get it, you should definitely let me know. (Though I suspect at least a few of those who read my blog would give me fairly stiff competition for just such a job.)

In the meantime, a job where I'm interacting with and helping people, and have the chance to do things I enjoy and where I can be challenged rather than bored will absolutely suit me.

3. I see you love to drink tea! What is your favourite kind?

Well, see, that depends. I don't like black tea. Which is what most of the world seems to drink. I can tell you the exact number of times (5) and places (England, Malta, Canmore, Newfoundland, and a friend's home) that I've had black tea in the last year.

I love looseleaf teas, and own several varieties, mostly rooibos (or red bush) teas. I have mango rooibos, vanilla rooibos, provence rooibos and several others. I also have a few herbal teas (like lavender honeybush) and one fantastic loose fruit tea (lemon mango).

I've also been known to have the occasional cup of green tea - I have a pomegranate green tea that's pretty fantastic.

However, my most commonly drunk cup of tea is probably Tazo Passion Tea from Starbucks. I start most workdays with a cup of it (I buy the tea bags and make my own instead of buying one every day - way more affordable.) It's also become a sort of unspoken prayer of mine to sip that tea from Starbucks, and I'll often pick up a cup from the shop when I'm needing to spend some time talking with Jesus, or when I'm praying for certain people and things.

4. Your recent post "Crying Out For Restoration" was beautiful. In it you mentioned several objects that held significance for you. If you had to pick just one, what would it be and why?

I thought a lot about how to answer this. I'm definitely a collector, and it would be hard to pick just one item.

To be honest, I think I'd probably keep "Nelly". Nelly is a teddy bear that was given to me at birth, and we've been through a lot together. She gives great hugs, has traveled the country and the world with me, and is a source of many memories and has been greatly loved.

If I was picking something of more spiritual significance, I'd probably choose either a coin that sits on the frame of my mirror which is a memento from a very personal and deep moment of encounter with God, or a little plaque that sits in my window sill, has a tiny shield hanging from it, and reads "The Lord is my shield in whom I take refuge." The plaque was a gift from a very dear friend, and speaks to me of a number of things. The shield on it bears a Maltese cross, and reminds me of many things encountered this last year. The fact that it is a gift from my friend reminds me of the deep love we share, and the many hard and deep and beautiful places we have walked together. And the scripture verse is a reminder of a promise that I believe God spoke to me over my life at one point, a line he said first to Abraham, "Do not be afraid, I am your shield and your very great reward." This is a central promise in my life, and has given birth to an image (still being developed) that I eventually would like to have tattooed on my back. There's something powerful for me in the image of having God's promise to shield and protect me permanently inked on my back.

5. When you think of your parents' generation is there any one thing that comes to mind that you wish you could say to them when it comes to living out their Christianity? Anything that they are holding on to that is unnecessary?

I wish sometimes that I could ask them to make Christianity about more than doing the right things. More than being in church each week, and a small group bible study, and doing some sort of community service and outreach or evangelism. I think all of those things are important, I just think that sometimes Jesus gets lost in them.

I met Jesus first when I was four years old, kneeling on the carpet in my parent's living room, and praying with my mom. I'll be 26 this coming summer, and I'm only just beginning to believe that Jesus actually loves me for who I am, not because I do and say and know the right things about him.

I think there are a thousand and one things my parents and their generation did right. They are very devoted to the concept of gathering together to celebrate God and worship him. My generation is by and large rejecting church. But I also think that there comes a moment when church can be adapted a bit to fit the changes in culture and thought and attention span. That it can become a bit less of an institution and a bit more of the family and body of Christ.

I'm a historian by training (with a specialty in church history), and I have a deep love for the church, and even the idea of the church as an institution that many of my peers seem to lack. In fact, I find myself increasingly drawn to the deep liturgy and ancient tradition of the Catholic church. But I also long for church to be a place where I go to meet with family - however wild and crazy and dysfunctional - people whom Jesus has called and collected. The Psalms talk about God setting the lonely in families, and in a culture that can be so isolating and individualistic, I see a great opportunity for the church to be the body of Christ, to form deep and loving extended families who also love and long to live out a life radically changed by an encounter with a living savior who understands the pain of the human existence, and knows suffering more deeply than any of us ever will.

~~~

Those were fantastic questions, Hope! thanks for sending them my way.

If anyone else wants to play along, let me know!

When to speak?

I'm having trouble today processing whether or not I need to give voice to certain things I've been thinking and praying about for the last day or two. Things seen and heard and understood.

I'm having broader trouble lately, struggling with questions I want to ask, and wondering whether or not to give them voice either.

Some of the topics are sensitive. They have the potential to create backlash - to stir things up that should perhaps be left undisturbed. And I'm not one to knowingly invite unneccessary backlash. I'll settle for a lack of understanding instead. I'm a big fan of safe, and calm, unless the direction is very clear to stir things.

Plus, I've been the unwitting victim at times when other people have walked without care, and created a maelstorm for those around them to be caught in. It makes me hesitate to create my own maelstorm.

And yet, I'm not sure the questions would create a stir. And I'm not certain how to gain understanding and experience without asking the questions. But, to be honest, I'm not even sure how to phrase the questions, as the topics are new and uncertain ones for me as well.

And for those things that have been seen and heard and understood, while I am very certain of what has been seen and heard, I'm less certain of the understanding, and the response that must flow out of understanding. And yet, I lack confidence in my own discernment, to speak these things beyond myself.

Oh bother. This cryptic phrasing of real issues doesn't work very well for me. I think I'll stop writing now.

Covered (trust in that)

I have had an awful lot of moments lately where I just want it all fixed. I want to wave some sort of magic wand and solve problems.

I see hurting friends and long for them to be filled with joy and peace.

I see illness, and long for healing.

I see those I love struggling, and long for the battle to cease, at least for a time.

I see broken relationships and long for restoration.

I see so many things, and long for them to be fixed.

And through it all, as I pray, I hear over and over again "my body broken, my blood shed"

And I pray again with Jesus in the garden, "if possible, let this cup pass, but not my will but yours be done."

And I work to remember that shed blood that covers all these longings of my heart. And to trust in the timing and promise of that.

Try to Love the Questions...

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.
(Ranier Maria Rilke)

I found this quote on somewhere recently, and, well, it grabbed at me. I am not good at patience with the unresolved things. And while I'm better than some at living with the questions, I certainly don't love them, and I've never managed to just live them, instead of looking for answers. I've recently been in the midst of some things that are quite frustrating, and told a dear friend in exhaustion that I was wishing for a three-step method to solving all the problems, and that I then wanted to accomplish all three of those steps in the next 20 minutes and be over and done with this all. She pointed out that I didn't really want that. Darn those friends who tell the truth! (Which is precisely what I want in a friend, but dang, sometimes I wish the truth lined up with what I want to hear/see/do a little more often.)

Question of the Day

I eat lunch with the same coworker almost every day. She loves to ask big questions about faith and life and God and scripture, and see how I respond. We call it the "question of the day".

Today, she told me at coffee break that the "question of the day" is "What does God think about euthanasia?" Cause that's a happy conversation over lunch!

Thinking and praying about how I want to respond to that one...

Wondering how some of you would respond... leave comments if you feel like telling me how you'd answer that question!

Not up to the fight today

You can tell a lot about my mental, emotional and spiritual state these days by checking out what I’m playing on my ipod at work.

Jason Upton, Steve Bell, Kendall Payne, Jacob and Lily – most of these mean I’m in a space where I’m willing and waiting to meet with Jesus, to encounter him.

U2 on the other hand, I listen to when I’m angry, when I’m afraid, when I’m frustrated, when I’m feeling the need to fight through something.

I’m listening to U2 today.

It would be an overstatement to say that I woke up angry this morning… you need to get more than three or four hours of sleep for it to qualify as “waking up”. Tossing and turning and lying awake and frustrated through most of the night hours doesn’t qualify.

I’m feeling tired, angry, fearful, frustrated. I’ve been sick for nearly two straight weeks – first a stomach bug, and now a brutal head cold. And I’m feeling just a little bit guilty because today I just don’t want to engage with the things that usually lift my spirits. I’m feeling like indulging the fear and the anger, and feeling sorry for myself… I’m feeling like wallowing.

Jesus re-hijacked my life in mid-August. It’s been a wild up and down ride ever since. So good, but so exhausting.

I’ve gone to deeper places than I ever imagined possible with Him. Beautiful places.

And today, I’m terrified of those places, of that ongoing journey. For a long time I’ve been afraid to deeply engage with the Spirit of God. I’m afraid of what I’ll find in my own soul, I think. I’m scared of losing control. I’m scared (again) of being “weird”. I’m scared of what He might ask of me. I suspect following Jesus may ultimately cost me my life.

I carry generational fears, too. Fears that compel me into slightly OCD tendencies – a need to check the lock on the door carefully before I go to bed each night among other things. To some degree a fear of men – particularly within certain situations. Odd that my mother, who passed these along, has found such freedom from them, while I still struggle deeply.

I carry fears from a series of things that happened in my life when I was twelve – fear of betrayal by friends, fear of rejection. In fact, it was a friend asking me the question “What were you like when you were twelve?” that opened the doors to this recent plunge into deeper things of Jesus.

I’ve chosen to live openly – the things I put on this blog are the deep heart things, very few things don’t make it here, or are held secretly. There are things I treasure in my heart that will never be shared, but mostly, I live with defiance – a honesty that is designed to push past the secret-keeping, fear inducing past of my life. I will give a piece of my heart to many who ask or draw it from me, and I trust them with it, but in some, secret corner, I wait for that moment of rejection and betrayal.

I want to be clear that I know so many of the spaces I’m occupying today are lies. That I know that fear is not from Christ, that He wants to combat lies. I just don’t know if I feel up to fighting that battle today. It seems easier to play dead.

So I’m sitting here, sipping tea, and listening to U2, and feeling angry, and exhausted by the battle, feeling frustrated, and unable (unwilling?) to fight.

Thy Kingdom Come

I'm curled up in my pajamas, in the chair in the corner of my bedroom. It's the chair I toss clothes on when I'm too lazy to hang them up, or my bag when when I get in from work. The all-purpose, catch all chair.

But lately, I've felt compelled to keep it clean. I've hung my clothes, and propped my bag elsewhere. The chair has been sitting there in the corner, empty and inviting me to come. To sit, to breathe, to slow down.

(Other than my laptop screen) the only light in my bedroom is from candles. My favorite incense is burning and filling the air with a spicy, smoky, beautiful scent. In the corner where I'm sitting are all of my visual reminders. A stone with the quote that inspired this blog. A railway spike. A crucifix from Mexico. Artwork that reminds me of specific words from Scripture, and encouragements to truly live. A tiny clay oil lamp that a friend brought from Nazareth. Next to the stone and the spike a candle burns - one I don't often burn - a gift from a dear friend the day I was baptized - given with a half-serious admonishment to burn it and remember that day.

And, across the room is a painting that a dear friend did as a gift to me. Square, maybe two feet by two feet. Mostly black, though rich with texture she added, and then, light, and beauty, coming out of nothingness. She titled it, "Thy Kingdom Come." I love this painting, and I deliberately hung it where I could see it when I settle into this chair, this corner of my bedroom to pray.

I didn't know where to even start today - the only words I could think of were, "Jesus, I'm tired, and it's heavy." It's been a Monday in the truest Garfield sense of the word. Cold, rainy weather, late trains this morning, cranky, tired people at the office. A friend in distress. A much needed word of truth spoken, but stinging.

I'm tired, and it's heavy.

So I'm sitting here in the candlelight, breathing incense, and staring at my barely lit painting.

Thy Kingdom Come.

Maybe that's all I really need to ask for tonight.

Thy Kingdom Come in my terrible Monday sort of day.

Thy Kingdom Come in the moments at night when I lay awake unable to sleep, knowing I'm going to pay for it in the morning.

Thy Kingdom Come in the lives of hurting friends.

Thy Kingdom Come in truth spoken gently and firmly.

Thy Kingdom Come in the Bible study I'm working to give leadership to.

Thy Kingdom Come in the life of the one for whom I had keys cut today.

Thy Kingdom Come in lunch with a friend tomorrow, and a concert tomorrow night.

Thy Kingdom Come in tiny moments of light, in tea, in hot showers, in incense, in stretching, in reading, in remembering to breathe and working to trust.

Abba, Thy Kingdom Come.

Lunch with Dad

I'm having lunch with my dad in about 20 minutes. I've actually been kind of dreading it since he called me yesterday to set it up. He wants to talk about church and ministry stuff. I'm not ready to have that conversation yet.

I have a fairly good idea of what he may want to discuss. The trouble is that I have no idea where I stand on those things yet. I'm heading to the mountains this weekend to pray and talk through some of these things. I need time away from the city, and time with trusted friends to verbally process some of this stuff. I don't want to make decisions from a point of feeling like I'm choosing the least unappealing of two unappealing options.

Pray for my lunch meeting if you happen to see this before it's over. Pray for my time away this weekend as I work to make some decisions, and seek Jesus for guidance on what comes next.

The Deeper things...

There are things floating around me lately that defy words...

Lyrics from an as yet unrecorded song by Jacob and Lily that I heard at a couple of their shows a few months back... "...I heard that if I sold it all and bought a field I'd find myself a treasure..."

Lyrics from Jason Upton's song "You Decide What's Beautiful": "...You live in the tension, live in the tension, live in the tension of creation... you decide what's beautiful, you decide what's glorious... you're funny like that, you will not be controlled... way beyond men, way beyond our ideas... you live in the tension... you come to the broken, you live with the broken..."

Thoughts from an invitation I received this week, and from posts on Kirk's blog this last week or two...

A growing sense of expectation, coupled with a growing desire to spend time in quiet waiting.

A growing need to engage in the world - to engage in issues of justice, to care for the environment, to love on those in the "gutters" of the world.

A desire to make pilgrimage. To walk and pray and listen at various places around the globe.

A need to spend time with those people who make me most myself, most free to walk in the things of depth that God has placed in me.

A need to be in the mountains. I have tentative plans for two separate weekends over the course of this month. One on my own, staying with some friends, time for retreating, hiking, reading, and refocusing. One as a part of a gathering of people who pray.

A fascination with engagement with culture and politics, but from a place of separation. Engagement and separation...hmmm.... (see this post and particularly the article it links to, from earlier this week.)

I find myself very glad for a week away from the concerns of the office, the politics, the tension. A week to allow myself to once again rest and breathe. To spend time with family, and time at a conference for leadership development. To celebrate my birthday, and the birthdays of some others. To think and pray, and wait and wonder... That's where I'm at on this Friday morning.

Something Died and Healing is Coming?

Sunday was an interesting day for me.

Those of you who know a bit about my journey this last while will know that I am struggling with some deep and somewhat harmful relational issues with my mom, and while I love her dearly, a day dedicated to talking about close relationships with mothers was somewhat trying.

On Sunday night I wrote a single line in my journal. "Something broke in me today." That was it. I was in the middle of a random conversation before church started, talking about a worship song the team was practicing in the background that I happen to dislike (hate would be a better word), and something snapped and died inside of me, and I started to weep, right in the middle of the conversation. (Not exactly the way to appear mentally stable!) Just like that, from one moment to the next, a season in my life came to an end. I'm not sure yet how that will pan out, what it means, what I'll do with it, but it's over. I wept twice more before the service was over - once while hiding at the back during the worship set, and once when someone I've known for a very long time, and have some level of trust with commented that I seemed down that day.

I watched a movie with my mom that night (great story, made me laugh, despite some plot gaps), but was still quite discouraged and worn down from the emotional nature of the day. I came upstairs after the movie ended, checked my email, and found a message from a dear friend. It was two sentences. "I love you. And I love your heart." I so desperately needed to hear that that day, when I was struggling so deeply with the way my heart was clashing against so many things in my immediate life. God's timing in my receiving that particular note was beautiful.

I wrote the following yesterday, as I reflected on the events of the weekend, and particularly on Sunday. I think it quite nicely sums up the present state of my life...

So, I'm back in the place of waiting, and wondering what comes next. There are some commitments that I need to honor for the remainder of this month, and for the month of June, before some things that have died in me can truly come to an end. There are great hopes and dreams for the time over the summer, for new things, new people, new places, new relationship with God and others. There is a growing urging to study and pray and meditate and write, to find some rhythms for my life. There is a sense of great discouragement, of grief and pain, of exhaustion, and even some anger. There is also a sense of great and ever growing hope.

I was reminded of a line from a Rita Springer song as I walked from the train to the office this morning, "I was made for war! I was made for battle, Lord!" I haven't felt up to the battle this last while, though I've been quite aware of it raging around me. I felt a sense of strength returning this morning, a hope for things to come, things worth doing battle for. A willingness to step in and really fight for the things I feel God speaking, not simply wait passively for them to arrive.

As I was writing this, I was reminded of a line from Scripture, "...My God shall supply all your needs..."

And one last line, from a Chris Tomlin song that God has repeatedly used to remind and encourage me this last while, "...I am loved by the King, and it makes my heart want to sing..."