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.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
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
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).
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).
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
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