Less Like Scars

I liked this lady. She was in a cemetery that I spent a bit of time in today, and the reminder on the memorial stone beneath her read "Simply to Thy Cross I Cling". A challenge that spoke to my heart. Her face spoke volumes to me as well... Such peace, such rest in clinging to the cross...

I'm listening as I write, to a song called "Less Like Scars" by Sara Groves. It's a song I've loved for a long while now, but some of the lyrics feel especially appropriate today as I celebrate three years of healing and joy and life. Especially this year, after the myriad of ups and downs. I thought I'd share a few of those lyrics with you, as a thank you to God, a prayer, a benediction of sorts as my anniversary draws to a close for another year.

It's been a hard year
But I'm climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it's

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars and more like
Character

Less like a prison, more like my room
It's less like a casket, more like a womb
Less like dying, more like transcending
Less like fear, less like an ending

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

Just a little while ago
I couldn't feel the power or the hope
I couldn't cope, I couldn't feel a thing
Just a little while back
I was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
You would come

And I need you
And I want you here
And I feel you

And I know you're here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
But you are able

And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

And more like
Character


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Now playing: Sara Groves - Less Like Scars
via FoxyTunes

3 Years Depression Free

I'm just waking up, and I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet, but today is a special day.

Today I celebrate 3 years of healing. 3 years depression free. It's an anniversary that means a lot to me. Three years of life.

It's special to me, this year, that my anniversary falls on All Saints Day. A day to celebrate the lives of all the saints, known and unknown. This has been a year that has involved a journey so much closer to the Catholic church, a year in which I have encountered saints in many different ways, and it is special to me today to think of the "Great Cloud of Witnesses" that Hebrews mentions as I again celebrate the healing of Jesus in my life.

In some ways it seems even more special to celebrate this year. There have been thousands of moments in the last nine months or so where I've wondered if that moment of healing had slipped away. For months now I've wondered if I would make it to today, and still be able to say that I was "depression free". This has been a wild year, one where I've held onto my own sanity with an iron grip, and one where I've had to learn to simply let that grip relax and trust that Jesus healed me, and that the things he gives are irrevocable.

Today is a day I wouldn't be able to celebrate without the gift of several dear friends, most of whom live in other parts of the country or world, and can't be here to celebrate with me physically. And I need, for a minute or so, to acknowledge them. To say thank you.

To thank M. for nights of Grey's Anatomy and freezer cake. For time praying together, but mostly just for the laughter, and giving me a break from the intensity that threatened to overwhelm.

To thank my roommates L. and J. for putting up with the crazyness that life with me has embodied this year. To thank them for patience with mood swings, and months upon months of needing huge amounts of space. To thank them for knowing the little things like how much flowers and a note would mean when I returned home from yet another intense weekend last week.

To thank J., who was with me the night I was healed. Who invited me into the presence of God in a new way that night, and who has talked and prayed and listened and invited me into those spaces all over again through this crazy year.

And to thank S. for hugs and prayers. For lots of late night conversations and talking until the darkness began to recede a little again. For assuring me that God's gifts were irrevocable, and helping me learn to relax that iron grip and begin to trust. For speaking the things I needed to hear even when I didn't want to hear them. For holding me when the tears began to fall, and seeing the things I just couldn't see.

To thank all those others who are "family". The new friends that have come along the way.

You're all so special, and I need to say thank you for helping me make it to today.

I don't know how I'm going to celebrate just yet. I'm going to head out on my own for a while - likely to some favorite spots somewhere. There will be cake (of a chocolate variety) at some point. And there will be a Mexican dinner with my roommates tonight, and an Anne of Green Gables Marathon, to celebrate my anniversary and J's birthday.

I get to celebrate!

Three years depression free, baby!

Thanks Jesus.

Re-Formation Day

While the rest of the North American world is today enamored with a “holiday” (and that word may be the biggest misnomer ever) that I’m doing my absolute best to avoid, the history geek in me is reminding me that 491 years ago today, Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to a church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and reshaped the face of the Western, Christian church.

I think I write a post like this every year, but it’s such a beautiful concept. No, not the resulting centuries of bloodshed, the bitter divide between Catholic and Protestant over who holds “exclusive rights to truth”. Not the proliferation of denominations, because once the splintering began, it was difficult to stop. (And, if you’re history geek enough to have actually studied Luther, keep in mind that he never really wanted a split from the Catholic church in the first place, but that it was something ultimately forced upon him.)

But the idea of reformation, of reform, of being re-formed – that is one that is beautiful to me.

It’s one that I need.

Re. Form. To remake. To be made new again.

To be formed speaks to me of hands of a creator. Hands gently twisting and tugging and manipulating until the result is beauty. And, when the creation becomes marred, dirtied, a re-forming. Hands again gently twisting and tugging and manipulating, repairing, until the result is beauty.

And, reforming didn’t start 491 years ago. That’s the beauty of it. Sure, for nearly 500 years we’ve been acknowledging this process of change and reformation within the church, but it’s been going on since the world began. The hands of a creator shaping and forming and re-forming. Creating beauty. Restoring marred beauty. Bringing hope and redemption.

Another Church Thought

Another thought from Henri Nouwen on church...

Focusing on the Poor

Like every human organization the Church is constantly in danger of corruption. As soon as power and wealth come to the Church, manipulation, exploitation, misuse of influence, and outright corruption are not far away.

How do we prevent corruption in the Church? The answer is clear: by focusing on the poor. The poor make the Church faithful to its vocation. When the Church is no longer a church for the poor, it loses its spiritual identity. It gets caught up in disagreements, jealousy, power games, and pettiness. Paul says, "God has composed the body so that greater dignity is given to the parts which were without it, and so that there may not be disagreements inside the body but each part may be equally concerned for all the others" (1 Corinthians 12:24-25). This is the true vision. The poor are given to the Church so that the Church as the body of Christ can be and remain a place of mutual concern, love, and peace.

Oldest Hebrew Script Found

As a follow-up on my post earlier, this headline caught my attention:

Oldest Hebrew Script is Found