.

a year in the kingdom

2009-12-04T00:22:00.000-08:00

tonight, we saw 2 concerts in the mountains of santa cruz- gregory alan isokov and j tillman. both musicians will likely become part of my soundtrack for the winter. j tillman had won me over with the title track from "a year in the kingdom" back at the end of october. i listened to it on a particularly emotional day, one when it felt like many things were coming to a head and God was making even clearer some truths and realities i already knew- and needed to know more of.

what's genius about the song is that its lyrics evoke something in you that you don't really understand- they are heart rending and emotional and raw... but you don't quite know why, you can't quite put your finger on it. they have overtones of something to do with God, but the exact meaning is ever so slightly obscured, which makes it somehow more beautiful. i am finding so much beauty, as of late, in things i can't quite understand.

tonight, j tillman's show was at the brookdale lodge, and the section where he played was probably 40 degrees, no joke. you could see your breath. if you know me at all, you know this was not a good thing. i stayed as long as i could in the section, his voice is so perfect and everything so captivating, you want to be close and hear everything. by the end of the set, i couldn't handle anymore and so i found refuge by the fireplace in the back of the room (which provided no heat to the front of the room for some reason).

during the first song of the encore, brian and i were feeling ready to go. i told myself that if the next song wasn't "year in the kindom," then we could go. before he began the second encore song, J off-handedly said how great it would be to unplug and finish up by the fire. the small but faithful crowd convinced him that this was right and so he made his way toward the warmth, while the crowd circled around. and there, by the glow of firelight and 50 quiet, expectant listeners, he began...

when i look back on my life
a stillness passes over friends
what i stored was yours to keep
it's no more mine to reclaim than the rocks and the trees

i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden
i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden

what comfort used to pass my days
before you shook the cold from me
i have enough to hold me to your side
before release comes for me like a thief in the night

i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden
i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden

i'd give back every night bird song
i'd give back every lay in the dawn
i'd give back my singing voice

for, one more day, one more day in the kingdom

my ears recalled the october day five weeks earlier, hearing these words and music at a time when i somehow had needed them to give voice to what was going on inside. and as i remembered that, i also remembered that earlier today, i had been asking God to show up, to show me something, to show me that he was listening to me as I implored him to give me guidance about my life. and in this unexpected and perfect way, it felt like this song- being sung in the warmth of the fire, surrounded by easy, thoughtful silence- was a showing up. instead of up on a stage, away, separated, here was this song, these words - sung softly, gently, humbly, giving voice to mystery, reminding.

peru, days 1-3

2009-08-19T20:31:00.000-07:00

on our 26 day south american trek, days 1-3 have already proven quite momentous...

*ALTITUDE HIGH*
we are feeling sort of drugged because of the altitude here. i think we are like somewhere between 6-10,000 feet above sea level (i can´t convert from kilometers, but its definitely high up). just walking up stairs winded us the first few days and we still have weird moments where it affects us - brian gets winded when he stands up right after waking up, its kind of funny. our skin is so dry and the air so different, it caused me to get a wonderful bloody nose yesterday and then today again on thetrain. so cute.

*PISAC- death by bus?*
Because all the trains to machu picchu were booked for the days we wanted to go, we re-arranged our sched, and day one, we instead went to a tiny village an hour outside of Cusco called Pisac. the bus ride over was really really really scary. i kept wondering what it would sound like if people heard i died in bus accident while driving a curvy highup road, listening to 80¨s hits. luckily, we survived. in pisac, they had a huge market with fresh foods, lots of warm clothes, trinkets and so much more. while the market was charming and at first you felt special cause it seemed everyone wanted to talk to you, we soon got overwhelmed with people constantly shouting at us and wanting us to buy from them. it was essentially our first taste of what has been one long insessant sales pitch the minute we arrive in any sort of setting where the vendors know there will be tourists. i feel like a robot, repeating over and over {no gracias, no gracia, no gracias}.

*hugo, the very best*
day two we headed toward puno, the large town right next to lake titcaca (hehe! still funny to say and type). the bus ride takes about 5 hours ish with no stops, but this was a special tour where we stopped at 5 different places along the way. while it had potential cheese factor (for some reason, tours always seem cheesy to me at first), the tour experience was AMAZING!! our tour guide, Hugo, looked like a mix of michael jackson (pre plastic surgery) and gabriel garcia bernal... and he was super friendly, knowledgable, kind and easy to talk with. we had seats the the very front of the bus, so we got lots of time to chat with him. on our stops, we saw an amazing church (the sistene chapel of south america, apparently), old Inka ruins, fantastic views of all kinds of lansdacspes (plains that ran right into gigantic golden mountains, rivers, trees, livestock) and tons and tons of people riding bikes, herding animals, walking along, sitting, observing, almost getting hit by our bus, etc. we also ate lunch at a cute little place with an amazing spread of all types of peruvian cusisine. we loved this, because we are finding that real peruvian food is hard to come by in the city centers we stay in, cause all the city restaraunts are geared toward tourists and so the food is far from authentic. we arrived in puno at 5pm and said good bye to the wonderful hugo, who will forever be my favorite tour guide :)

*the lake of lies... and beauty*
at 6:50am of day 3, we headed out on another tour, this time by boat. it was so confusing trying to find the boat and when found it, more confusion ensued for about 20 minutes cause they overbooked and there were not enough seats. the tour guide was no hugo, and so i didnt really listen to him much, just stared out the window and tried to soak in the lake and land and reeds and sun. the first stop were the floating islands, which are made entirely of reeds and mud, reedwhich grows for miles on the lake. there are about 48 small islands in a big circle and that they exist at all is amazing: stepping onto them made us wish we could sleep on them as our hotel beds were rock hard. but, they are lies. well, the islands were real, but the "natives" who live there might as well be disneyland characters dressed up to make you think you have transported to another time. they wait for you at the boat, dressed in very clean, brightly colored "native" clothes and then as you get the history and construction details of the island from our bad tour guide, they set up a marketof "handmade" crafts for us to buy (though the crafts in every marketwe have been in have been identical to each other, causing us towonder who in fact is making these authentic items.) before you leavethey gather around and sing to you. tihs happened at all the islandssimulatenously, as each island had its own tour boat to impress. Iwas the most skeptical of all of us and so it was hard to enjoy theexperience. it was cool that they were in fact reed islands, floating and in existence for hundreds of years, but the fakeness of it all wasupsetting. after the islands, we got back out onto the lake for athree hour boat ride to another huge island, where stevey and ienjoyed a long, refreshing girl talk in the warm sun (the weather here is much more mild than we thought, which makes me soooo happy). theisland was cool, we got to hike and see amazing villages, and enjoyanother great peruvian lunch and i embarassed myself royally by tryingto talk to another person on the tour and introducing myself by saying"im america" to which all ten people at the table laughed at. we endedthe day by eating at an amazing pizza place called "macchupizza" which was actually wonderful despite the name.

life from death...

2009-07-01T14:22:00.001-07:00

From time to time, I am going to use this space to make sure and remember the great conversations that make my life and my work worth every bit of struggle and confusion and pain.

Again, the theme of service and our life being ABOUT God has surfaced. In my conversation with a new friend/VFC connection (we'll call her S), we pondered and worked through and celebrated the reality that our lives are not about ourselves or our own happiness, necessarily, but that they are ultimately about serving other people as conduits or vessels of God.

Recent losses in S's life have left her with a sense of wanting to move to the next place in life, where she just serves others and focuses on that over things she has focused on our worried about in the past. Perhaps as she sees the beautiful legacy of service that those she lost left behind, she realizes that she wants to be part of something like that herself. In this moment, in this awakening, she is available to what God wants to do with her, she is open to being used in whatever way she can be used. This is how she wants to live. She has that sense of clarity about her that comes after great pain and loss. Life, in a very real, tangible way, has become this precious gift. Life for S has become simpler in a way. Life is not about us. Life is not about our own self-contained happiness or comfort or success. Life is something to be lost so we can truly live.

S is still figuring things out. She wants to know the Bible, wants to understand it. She sees she has a lot to learn. But in and of herself, S is this amazing gift. She is present, easy to talk with, encouraging, gentle, positive, deep. She already has so much to offer the world, its almost like learning about God and the Bible will shed light on what's already been richly at work in her. I firmly believe that as we grow fully into who we are in Christ, we become more fully us.

Our conversation brought us to the discussion of how every part of the Body is unique, how we all bring so much to the table simply in and of who we are... and every part of us that is God, IS GOD. God is so infinitely dynamic and interesting and complex and all encompassing-- every great thing about every person is Him. This is endlessly encouraging to me. I love how God has made this world and made us. Yes, brokenness and darkness and confusion abound... but there is this hope.

As S and I talked, I was reminded of this incredible quote i just read from Mulholland (again)

"We have so emphasized the Life dimension of the New Testament that we have avoided coming to grips with its death dimension. We have avoided the fact that in the gospel, Life comes out of death, not out of life. Trying to bring Life out of life attempts to escape the necessity of dying to the old parameters of our existence, the necessity of relinquishing the brokenness of our being, the necessity of letting go of those things that warp and misshape and distort who we are."

S has experienced death... literal death of those around her and, in a deep way, death of her old self, her old parameters of existence, her old being. And out of this death, Life.

robert mulholland says

2009-06-29T22:43:00.000-07:00

"human life is, by its very nature, spiritual formation. the question is not whether to undertake spiritual formation. the question is what kind of spiritual formation are we already engaged in? are we being increasingly conformed to the brokenness and disintegration of the world, or are we being increasingly conformed to the wholeness and integration of the image of Christ?"

three letter word

2009-06-24T12:23:00.001-07:00

I feel like my life revolves around the simplest thing, this one three letter word ... God. My life is about knowing God, loving God, trusting God, choosing God, cultivating my relationship with God, being a conduit for God to other people. And it is very clear that this is my primary purpose, this focus on and relationship to and becoming like God. But, if this one little word is all my life is about, why why why does life feel so complicated and confusing and cloudy so much of the time? Why is it so easy to lose track and feel utterly lost?

In most conversations with my married, dating and single girlfriends, we spend hours analyzing our future/potential/actual mates. What does it mean when he does or says this? Why is he acting interested but doesn't do anything about it? What if he decides there is someone more beautiful or interesting out there and leaves me? We circle around these questions and fears, worrying and fretting that we need to do more or be more in order to be loved and kept. We long for this deep connection, this deep sense of being known, the moment of ultimate safety and acceptance, that final confirmation that we have found the right person at the right time and we can stop the search, stop the fears and finally "be happy." But is being "happy" really the goal of our long search? Do our hearts simply become satisfied with this "happiness" once we get married/find the one/live "happily" ever after?

My sinking suspicion is that there is more. Well, in fact, my experience, as limited as it feels, is that there is more. Not that it is wrong to want to find a partner, and not that these fears aren't very real. But its the motivation underneath the search that gets me thinking, that causes me to wonder what it is i am really looking for. For about a year now, I have had this idea in my head that when I do finally say "I do", I want it to be because what I see in the person I am with is not only someone who understands me and loves me and accepts me, but that I see someone who truly encourages me and exhorts me to be the woman God has made me to be. I want that person to passionately pursue who they are in Christ, to not give up on growth and change and discovery... and I want to be a person who helps encourage them to become the man God has them to be. And together, I want us to be a couple who is willing to do whatever God leads us to do, to become who ever God has us to become, and to serve wherever and whoever God has us to serve. I want our life together to be about this one simple thing: God.

In the midst of thinking all this, of letting these ideas and thoughts and dreams be processed through the intense machine that is my brain, my friend Lee has brain surgery. His wife posted this morning on the update blog the following:

Now that Lee's condition is stable, I want to share about our journey through a spiritual lens. Since the moment that we found out about Lee's lesion on Friday, God's presence has prevailed. There have been so many evidences of Him that have been occurring in the past 6 days. Every time I see one, I am quick to give God thanks. As Lee was in surgery, I was writing them all down in my journal, giving thanks, because I don't want to forget one of them. Among them all, and they are still coming, I want to highlight two profound ways that God has personally been evident. As the urgent care doctor told us the news of this mass in Lee's brain, I felt JOY (God, how are you going to use this for your kingdom purposes?) and PEACE (God, we trust and depend on you).

As for JOY, Friday night as I lay in bed, I began to survey the landscape of all the possible outcomes of Lee's situation from ideal to worse case scenario. I began to see the joy and sorrow that would come with each one and the possible ways that God could be glorified with each. I later told Lee and on another occasion (Josh and Dani Fox and Alex Chiuko) that I felt like I was trying clothes on in front of a mirror seeing what each one looked like, a little glimpse into each scenario. God could be glorified in every one, which made them equally powerful for God's purposes, making each one a viable possibility. When Lee and I officially started dating in college back at UC Davis, making the move from best friends to clearly stated romantic intentions, we sat together in an over sized beanbag chair in front of a large fish tank in the late night, prayerfully committing our relationship to God and his purposes, willing to be used in any way by God. I found myself reminded of that promise as Lee and I are now in another season where God is clearly at work. I told God last Friday night that I surrendered Lee totally and completely to Him in every way and that we today, 26 years later from that night at UC Davis, are still his servants at his disposal to be used in any way for the sake of the gospel. My prayer is that God be glorified and my desire and prayer is that He be glorified through Lee sticking around on earth for a long time.

As for PEACE, I have been on a personal journey of transformation in this area over the last 6 years and God has been preparing me for this moment. When I was recently teaching on Peace to the women of Soul Food in our most recent study on Philippians, I shared that I had failed to find God's peace in a very trying and extended challenging circumstance. I was disappointed that I could not say that "it was well with my soul." My disappointment turned to motivation to seek God's peace, the peace that passes all understanding, that guards our hearts and minds (Philippians 4:7). I wanted to be ready for the next challenging circumstance so that I could say confidently, "It is well with my soul". And there it came, Friday afternoon, sitting with the urgent care doctor. I heard the news and I thought, "it is well with my soul." Thank you God...you are so good. You are faithful to complete the good work that you have started in me (Philippians 1:6). I was content and at peace, because I knew that God would supply the strength that I needed to get through any of the upcoming scenarios. I want to quote from the Philippians Bible study by Becky Kimball regarding the verse in Philippians 4:13 that says, I can do everything through him who gives me strength. She writes " So through the strength provided by Jesus, Paul is equipped for contentment... So (too it is with us), you and I don't have to be products of our environment or our circumstances or even our human nature. We have everything we need, through Jesus, to live a life that reflects His character...We are invited into a second-by-second, closer-than-your-skin experience of God in which we are never abandoned or ignored or simply left to our own devices." If left to my own devices, I would have failed again as I had done in my previous challenging circumstance. But here I sit today, completely content and at peace because God will supply everything I need to deal with life whether it is with Lee fully restored to health, Lee in a compromised state of health, or Lee gone on to glory to live with Jesus.

And sitting there, reading the update this morning, I found a picture of what i have been thinking in my head, an example of the kind of person i want to be as i go through this life, an example of the kind of couple i can only hope to be part of one day.

brief on vegas

2009-06-15T11:06:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago, on a whim, I RSVP-ed last minute to an invite by a friend to go away to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate his college graduation. The allure of a weekend by the pool in the sun with a bunch of fun people sucked me in and I went with it. I sort of let the debauchery, gambling and notoriously seedy reputation of Vegas slip to the back of my mind and when we finally packed up the car and got on the road, I was excited to go.

Before visiting Vegas, I had only vague assumptions about what it was actually like. It was at once this legendary place I was sort of curious about (having loved Swingers and Oceans 11/12/13 and that whole Rat Pack vibe), while at the same time it seemed to be the embodiment of all I despise about the world (or America at least).

And I won’t say that all of the Vegas experience was bad. I loved the people I went with, they were fun and easy and good people to be around. Being a big, roving, parentless family set free for the weekend in a wonderland of distraction, entertainment and leisure was enjoyable, almost against the rules in a way. Fitting 14 people in a two bed suite for the weekend gave us the feeling of getting away with something akin to TP-ing your friends house or sneaking candy into a movie. Largely harmless, but somewhat against the rules, the little thrill of rebellion made us feel clever and crafty all at once.

So for the fortune of good company and the getting away for a few days and the 4 hours at the “beach” and the getting dressed up and the fantastic Mexican dinner and the MGM lions and some really great conversations, I am grateful. These all made the trip entirely worthwhile, so I won’t regret going. But for the sake of being truthful to myself and my experience, I must say that when I think of darkness and indulgence and the generally depraved state of the human race (specifically in regard to sexuality and money), I will recall my time walking the Vegas strip to help me more viscerally understand what that really means. After just a couple hours walking down the strip, I was exposed to an almost constant barrage of pornography, drunkenness, greed, indulgence and grandeur (the bad kind).

Yes, one could argue that I am slightly sheltered, working for a church and considering a game night at home with dessert just as much fun as a trip to the city for a concert. Sure, so perhaps that made me more affected than most. But I am grateful to be so sheltered as to have been shocked by the darkness of Vegas. I want my sexuality and my identity and my value for hardwork and my growing love for frugality to all remain in tact, and even on the innocent side, as I get older. I’d rather view the world with eyes of wonder and discovery than be so de-sensitized and “experienced” that nothing is new anymore.

Being thrown from one extreme to another was a good reminder, too, of how affected we are by our environments. By the end of my last day, I was so disgusted by the oversexed images I had been exposed to that I felt dirty just wearing a skirt and completely grossed out at the thought of even just kissing my boyfriend. Instead of tempting me, Vegas made sex look cheap and artificial, a commodity to seized and consumed rather than a gift to be given and received between two people committed to each other in every way.

I will give Vegas credit, though, in its ability to value entertainment and spectacle- I wish I had enough money to afford some of those amazing shows and I loved the fact that so much creativity and artistic expression was readily available for people to enjoy. Granted, some of that entertainment included some pretty washed up comedians, but that’s ok, right? At least they are working.

All this to say, I appreciated being invited and I enjoyed the friends I got to have the experience with. If I could take away all the sex/porn stuff, and the lack of natural lighting and the smoke and the drunkenness and the addictions and all the other seedy things infesting Vegas, I could see myself really enjoying it out there. and i will credit Vegas with an inspiration to write more. Me and my friend Brian U. decided to encourage each others creative output but committing to blogging once a week. So here is my first, Brian, sorry its so late :)

right now

2009-03-13T16:45:00.000-07:00

i have been running a lot more than usual lately - well not really running running, more sort of mellowly jogging. i am very much enjoying it, because its giving me more energy and helping me get some time to contemplate and talk to God. I find i talk to God better when i moving around and looking at the ocean and listening to amazing music (current favorite running music = Yppah). a couple weeks ago, i felt almost all my relationships were strained and it was frustrating me. I was running/walking/praying on the beach, asking God for answers, wanting Him to show up somehow, perhaps even subtly wanting him to justify my frustrations and make my struggles go away. As i was saying this, i looked up and saw a red mark ahead on the rocks in front of me. As i got closer, i saw it had a word above it. A few more steps and i saw. It said "MORE" and beneath it was a red heart. And i stood there smiling, looking at the MORE LOVE rock.

today, i ran again all around my neighboorhood and then on the cliffs and then to the lighthouse and then took a 20 min walk on the beach. I prayed into the wind, Yppah playing in one ear and my own voice sounding like whispers from someone behind me in the other ear (i have to pray out loud or my thoughts takeover my brain and i can't concentrate too well). my mom had just finished telling me i need to learn to be in the moment, a message i have heard far too many times without much change on my part. I walked on the beach praying and hoping no one would hear me and think i was crazy. then, ahead of me i see a tiny blonde girl playing in the waves. Her dad is watching her, holding her pink sweater and she is in bright fluorescent bathing suit and nothing matters to her right then except that she is playing in the water and that her dad is watching her. And then next to them two girls walked, a puppy between them carrying a stick in his mouth and they smiling and laughing. The puppy ran ahead and caught the eye of another blonde girl playing in the sand and they had a moment. The puppy then raced off to be with his own girls and i smiled. And i became overwhelmed. And i became happy. A few things i have loved with an inexplicable love since before i can remember are the ocean/any body of water and puppies/dogs. I was a little fish as a kid, always wanting to be in the pool or river or creek (we lived in landlocked ohio, so the ocean only became a love once we moved here when i was 5). Also as a kid, i loved dogs and would constantly be playing with ours or anyone elses who would let me. Also, i was a very blonde haired little girl.

Walking back home through the sand, smiling about puppies and blonde girls and laughter and watching fathers, i felt happy. I walked in the sand and started to walk in the deeper tracks left by cars who had crisscrossed the beach some other time or day. I started thinking about how hard patterns are to break, how easy it is for me to live in some other time, to live in expectation, to live in fear, to live in doubt and to always wonder what is next... my own thought patterns well worn and entrenched before me. Without thinking, i stepped out of the tracks into the sand where only a thousand foot steps remained, aiming myself not in a familiar well worn path, but in the direction that would most quickly lead me home.

inside and out

2009-02-17T21:17:00.001-08:00

what a delightful and life giving gift it is to share a lengthy, intense, multi-layered, dynamic conversation with someone who is engaged and engaging and interested and interesting. i have found that all the little neurons in my brain light up when i am able to have these conversations and it just fills me with so much energy and light. i feel i am at my best in these times, like something is flipped on inside of me.

i realize that this most often occurs when i am talking to other women. i am not saying i don't have profound conversations with men and that they aren't good, solid conversations... but there is something intrinsically different for me when i communicate with another woman. based on my tiny amount of knowledge about the female brain (courtesy of a book i read about halfway through called, interestingly, "the female brain") we as women are neurologically wired for connection and communication. of course there are varying levels of this, but as they study the male and female brains, they are finding that female brains are significantly different than males in our verbal and relational centers and this contributes to much of our behavior dichotomies. anyhow, i digress...

the point being that when i come off of these conversations, i am left feeling more alive inside- it's visceral, really. i think this specific convo was especially life giving because of the unique vantage points myself and my fellow conversationalist were speaking from. she admittedly stands "outside" of the Christian faith, and i would consider myself "inside." Though in most cases, these positions of inside and out would cause incredible disharmony, discord, and likely disagreement, i do not find any of those present in my conversations with this friend. and its not like we avoid the subject... in fact, the subject of faith is what fuels and enlivens the words we exchange.

one snippet that stuck out to me was the question of belonging. my friend has (until recently) only really experienced Christianity as a place where people who don't "believe," are made to feel outside of the community of believers. we conversed about the alternative, which has is roots on "the Celtic Way of evangelism." essentially instead of it being

Behave, believe, belong = Roman Evangelism (bringing people in)

it is actually

Belong, believe, behave = Celtic Evangelism (sending Christians out)

Christianity can often assume the stance of being the moral police of the world, beating people over the head with the rules of how they should "behave." Once they "behave", then they can make the choice to "believe" in God/the bible/the church and then, finally, they are allowed to "belong" to the Church (which at this point seems more like a secret fraternity or exclusive country club.)

What if, instead of being asked to jump through the hoops of first behaving and believing (which in the context of those who have already chosen to follow Jesus are important and necessary), they were asked to belong? They were extended the open arms of Christian community? Engaged in the dialogue and life and beauty and messiness of the Church?

another topic was the question of sin and repentance- why that issue is hard to face, especially when you don't feel like your life is mired in too much "morally questionable" behavior. this is a tough one, because in comparison with other "sin," many of our everyday blunders seem inconsequential or even tedious to consider when you look at the behavior of far more violent and evil people. i struggle with this, too, since i've always been a bit of a goody-two-shoes. i brought up the fact that I truly believe that self-hatred and a distorted view of self could be considered sinful behavior. I don't say that to quantify or categorize those behaviors so much as to point out that we must "repent" (or change directions) from them. to hate yourself or to hold the view of yourself as anything other than a beloved child of God is essentially telling God he made a mistake when he made you, devaluing His creation that is you and denying the fact that you are His image-bearer.

these questions kind of tie in with another thing we touched on, which is the reality that in God's kingdom, everyone is equal. we began our conversation talking about the school system, grades, prep schools and the generally misguided attempts by our culture to quantify peoples values based on test scores. she is a college professor, so this isn't some loosey-goosey hippy mama who believes we all need to live in a commune and give the finger to "the Man" (not that there is anything wrong with being like that :) ). she is a legit academic, well-written, published and accomplished, but she doesn't buy into the game. i kind of love this. though i did "play the game" and do my schoolwork and graduate college, i felt a sinking suspicion as i went through school, kindergarten to college, that the school system in general didn't necessarily care about the content of my character or my ability to love or my desire to bring change into the world. they mostly just wanted me to pass tests and behave and check the boxes and finish. of course, this isn't every one and there were a number of dynamic, amazing teachers i encountered. the people didnt seem the be the issue... by and large the system is what seemed strangely mechanistic and ultimately kind of sad.

all that to say, our shared negative views on school systems driven to "succeed" by grade fits right along with all the ideals in scripture that indicate it is the "least of these" that Jesus was most acutely aware of and caring toward. He loves us all the same, to be sure, but there was no posturing with Jesus. he wasn't about to give special rights to the rich - he asked them the hardest questions. and he wasn't tempted to play favorites with his disciples, even when they out rightly asked. jesus is so far beyond all our strategies about popularity and our ideas of who "deserves" what. he is asking us to live outside of the whole structure of culture and that makes him pretty badass if you ask me.

ok, its getting late- but other topics we touched on that i dont want to forget to expand on later

the abyss... the empty... the loneliness....why it's so hard to rest
once you start walking down the road of deep spiritual formation, can you turn back?
how do leaders wrestle with theology, yet still maintain a consistent message in their community

choosing to love

2009-02-03T17:03:00.000-08:00

i just found this image and laughed. even in the 1950's, we needed books to find and keep men. i won't lie-- the eternal search for my "soul mate" consumes much of my time and energy. being a pretty constant emotional processor, i can't help but let my mind wander and consider what "man" i will end up with and what that will all be like. my suspicion is that i probably have it just a tiny bit built up in my head. i am trying my best, in light of my girlish tendency toward the romantic, to see things more realistically. or more exactly- realistic, but also hopeful.

as cheesy as i may seem, one book that has really helped me in seeing reality of this search for love (don't laugh!) is "he's just not that into you." me and some of the gals are making a night of it this friday and going to see the movie its based on. check it:

i mean honestly, what is with the eternal search for love we seem to be on?

and truly- what, really, is love?

i am finding out, through my exhaustive personal and professional research, that most times love at its best and most real comes down to choice. love in the God way, and love in the lovey valentiney way, and love in the getting married and lasting forever way. choosing to love, especially when you don't feel like it, doesn't much feel like love to me, in the traditional, conventional way i have always viewed love. but love, if it is to last, means choosing to love someone or Someone, regardless of how you emotionally feel toward them.

i often have to ask myself - have i emotionally loved anything consistently for very long? sure, i have always loved my parents, but sometimes i haven't felt like emotionally loving them, but i chose to love them anyway. i have loved some of my dear friends for a long long time, but have there been times when my emotions towards them have waned, when i wanted to back out, when i haven't felt much toward them at all? absolutely. but have I chosen to love some of them through it and made it last? yes.

but the call to live solely out of emotional love is everywhere. if you honestly ask any girl what their idea of love is, almost every single one of them will probably immediately revert to some romantic comedy story line or some tv show that caught them and unrealistically shaped what they view "love" to truly be.

how do we let go of the addiction to emotional love? not to say its wrong... emotional love is necessary to our hearts and lives, no doubt. but its not lasting. and it does not sustain. love has to be a whole lot more than just feeling affection/romance/lust toward someone. "true" love has to be more.

true love is a choice.

the ability to choose is God's gift to us ... some brilliant theologians and thinkers i have been reading and talking to have really been making me think more deeply about this lately. God's world was designed to allow for the freedom of choice. though he strongly cautioned against it, he gave his original people the choice to eat from the tree of knowledge, even though that would end up being their downfall. this might seem mean and callous, to give us an option to cause our own demise, but God was not trying to be mean and callous when he laid out the options before these people. instead of programming the people he created to do and feel exactly what he wanted at every turn, God gave us choice... this choice factors in most importantly in how we relate to him- he wanted us to be able to choose to love him, not to be forced or programmed like robots. he wanted a creation that would be able choose him, that would be able to have a real honest, reciprocal relationship with him. real love, as defined by God from the beginning, involved both parties choosing the other.

and in allowing for the choice toward him, God also allowed for the choice away from him.

so it seems, choices and love have always been risky- even from the very start.

in all of our searching, maybe in the end what we really want is to find S/someone we want to keep choosing... and to find S/someone who will keep choosing us.

no weddings and a funeral

2008-12-31T12:52:00.000-08:00

another funeral this winter... my other grandma this time, grandma betty. she had been my absolute favorite as a kid, we just had the most fun together and adored each other to bits. she had been sick since before i can remember and every year we wondered if this would be her last. we had been expecting this for so long that when the phone call finally came in, i was shocked and relieved at the same time. she hadn't been living for so long... it seemed to me that she just sort of existed much of the time, my grandpa at her side feeding her, giving her pills, helping her dress and undress. her life seemed vivid and awake only when she would talk to us or when she had visitors or when she got to go out to dinner or the occasional big party. my perception of her life between these events or moments was one of monotony and difficulty and pain and longing.

watching my grandpa these last few days, i think my idea of her boring monotonous "life" between visits may have been wrong. grandpa bill, once lanky, strong, and stoic, is almost unrecognizable under the weight of the last year. this man, this man who once seemed to be able to take care of everyone (even my own dad) and do so without missing a beat, can hardly make it an hour without crying. and all he can do is talk about how much he misses her, how much he wants to see her, how he thought she would come back from this one. its so strange to watch someone once so strong and capable, become someone who is now utterly breakable, someone who seems to have had all the life and energy drained from him.

watching him, its breaking my heart... but, a few days in, i am now seeing that this is the result of loving someone for almost 60 years, loving them through every imaginable physical ailment over 20 years, loving them despite extreme lows, loving them through kids and grandkids, loving them as you travel and explore and build together, loving them in the boring everyday-ness of life... this deep sadness is due to this deep love.

and so maybe, though my grandma's life seemed to brighten up so much in our presence, her steady, solid, lasting marriage was this sustained liveliness that kept her going. maybe it wasn't always the high of her granchildren's constant presence, or the hope of a healthy body, or the desire for the ability to travel (all things she desperately wished she had)... maybe what she had every day, day in and day out, with her everloving bill, maybe she fought for that just as much.

in the mess

2008-12-21T15:15:00.001-08:00

i guess i once said something to the effect of:

its not like you ever figure out all your issues-- you just learn over the years to navigate the mess.

i was surprised by that statement, because i am not impressed with much that i say- except that that seemed like something truer than i could have known at the time. and its so true now.

here i am in my room. raining outside, cold outside (i haaaate cold), my feet at the heater, candles lit, wearing 3 layers of warmth. my room is destroyed.

boxes of christmas gifts unwrapped, laying on one corner. my bed piled with pillows and un-put-away clothes i couldn't decide about early this morning. my floor scattered with boots i need to keep my constantly cold feet from completely freezing. all my bills and important papers fill my dresser and a stack of half made christmas cards on my chair. my purse upside down. my closet a mess. my bed unmade.

here i am in the mess.

i have learned so much recently-- all the things i wrote about in may on my cottage castle rereat have become more real... and their reasons clearer. but this time, the consequences of waiting to deal with them almost became too much. and i almost went down. but, by the hand of community and the grace of my life's Author, the chapter kept going and is being written.

it doesn't mean its all easy. the mess is still here... but i am learning to be more ok with the messes presence, to understand its not as scary or overwhelming or powerful as i had once let it be. maybe its simply naming it. like, when you see a pile of something gross and you can't figure out what it is, it makes it that much grosser. like a pile of rotting food could look like other things (you know other things...) and then when you realize its just old food, you arent as grossed out. Our big piles of stuff look way more forbidding in the dark-- what IS that massive lump? What's in it? What underneath it-- then you turn on the light and realize its just a bunch of clothes you didnt put away. what we don't know always seems so much worse.

i am a mess.

or, rather, i am aware of my mess. and i see it for what it is... and what it is not. and i am ok with it, because i know i am not defined by it. its just a part of me that will always be there til i get to be made completely Whole one day.

god bless this mess.

go see CALL+RESPONSE

2008-10-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

images are powerful and word of mouth is stronger than almost anything, so i hope this helps you make the effort to go see this film:

for show times, check out: http://callandresponse.com/tickets.html

i promise if you do, i will be your friend and comment on your blog more often :)

the flying

2008-08-10T17:12:00.000-07:00

reading john maxwell for work, i didn't think i would like it at all. i was worried it would be too corporate and too mega-church and too much. but there is some good stuff. i haven't read the whole thing, like i was supposed to, but so far, its actually been inspiring.

one of the best metaphors so far has been that of why birds fly in a V shape. as i type this (and as i have typed my last blog) i sit at the bay windows of my housesitting house (which has an ocean view!) and i have seen at least a dozen flocks of birds flying in a V shape. As i watch them, i see even more depth to the metaphor.

well first, the original metaphor:

apparently, by spacing themselves apart properly and flying in a V formation,

"birds can achieve optimum positions that reduce the drag of every bird in the formation.

However, not all birds benefit equally. Even though the V formation benefits all of the birds, the bird in the lead position has to work the hardest. When this bird tires, it will drop out of the lead position and fall further back into one of the lines of the V. Another bird from further back will rapidly move forward to take the leading position and maintain the formation.

The two birds in the furthest trailing positions also tire more rapidly than those in the middle, so these positions are also rotated frequently to spread the most fatiguing locations throughout the flock.

This cyclical rearrangement gives all birds the responsibility of being the leader as well as a chance to enjoy the maximum benefits of being in the middle of the formation. This sense of teamwork comes naturally since even the youngest members of the flock rapidly realize that it takes less work to fly in a V formation than it does to fly alone."

so, the metaphor works perfectly when we talk about working together as opposed to apart. when we are with other people, when we work together, we experience less "drag," we (ideally) share responsibility because leading is very tiring and, in the end, we can fly better and stronger since, apparently,

"studies have estimated that a flock of 25 birds in formation can fly as much as 70% further than a solo bird using the same amount of energy"

i love this.

looking at these birds flying in formation, i noticed that the front bird will be flapping then stop and coast for a bit, soaring on the momentum it has created... and as this front bird is coasting, the next birds back will begin flapping, using the momentum the front bird created to help their flapping. then as they coast, the next birds will pick up their momentum, and so on. this makes sense as to why the front "leader" bird gets tired more quickly... but creation in all its intention and beauty has given these birds the instinct to allow that front position to be rotated so that that one bird doesn't get too tired. so really, its not that one bird that gives all others the momentum, its the flock together that makes them be able to fly this way.

in my own "leadership," my wings are so tired because i (mostly subconsciously) don't trust that another bird taking leadership can do what i do. i am so afraid of failing or falling behind that i just fly and fly. sometimes i look back and feel i have lost half the flock because of my refusal to give up my spot. i don't do this intentionally. but i do it, because it seems easier. but in the end, its worse for everyone.

i don't want this anymore.

in all thats swimming in my head right now with what i am learning with leadership and structure from all these different place, i feel like i want answers or clarity or something very concrete to guide my way and make this all make sense and get it going.

but first, perhaps, i need to see my own fault, my own shortcomings.

the incessant patterns

2008-08-10T16:27:00.000-07:00

i'm starting to realize the probably incredibly obvious truth about the incessant patterns we experience as human beings. i began getting into this idea a few years ago when i started to live on my own and started realizing how doing chores around the house is this never ending cycle, this pattern that is incessant, and truly inescapable. as good as it feels to get the bathroom spotless, all the dishes done, the living room just right, the trash taken out, make it all sparkling and perfect.... you have to do it again the next week, or in two weeks or whatever level of cleanliness you desire.

this is the same as laundry.

as getting our hair cut(/colored/styled for those of us who are picky about hair)

as working out (which is something i never do and i know that is going to catch up with me).

as eating.

as sleeping.

as clipping our toe nails.

as celebrating birthdays.

as having horrible days.

as having wonderful days.

as getting sick. and then better again.

as hurting people and having to have make up talks.

and on and on.

being a person who thrives on crossing things off of lists, this obvious truth is very difficult to deal with. i want to just be done. i want completion, a sense of being finished. though process and journey are all things i *say* i believe in, the deep down truth is i want things finished. so that i can move on to something new, so that i can feel a sense of pride that i finished something, so that i can feel successful in the next venture i take on.

this mentality, unless i am become an accountant or something, will not work. i work with people, developing leaders and ministries as an imperfect person for imperfect people. things are not nice and not cut and dry (where does that expression come from anyway?). things are a mess and are mostly non-linear. and a lot does not make sense to me. some things that seem destined for greatness fail and somethings destined to fail rise up to become great. sometimes i feel like nothing in the world is better than what i have right now and sometimes i feel so miserable and unsure that i want to give up.

i am having trouble making sense of it all.

i sat in on a class on renewing and restoring relationships. the teacher made the brilliant point that we, as people, need patterns- we rely on them. if we aren't able to see patterns and live in patterns, we would go crazy. it doesn't mean we live by our patterns alone, but we need the consistency they provide. it helps us make sense of what we are experiencing.

as much as I don't fully understand it, God made everything around us in continuous patterns or to function by patterns... the seasons cycle winter spring summer fall; the ecosystem sun, light, photosynthesis, water, soil, growth, fruit, decompose, break down, regrow. cells multiply, multiply, multiply, multiply. bodies grow born grow strengthen grow expand grow stronger grow mature grow recreate.

incessant.

endless.

day two: cottage castle retreat

2008-05-11T20:25:00.000-07:00

Day two of “Befriending the Stranger” became perfect for day two of this retreat.

I spent part of day two writing, showering, driving and trying to find a warm, cozy spot in the Pebble Beach resort to sit and read some more. But this proved difficult because their café was closed and it was cold outside even on that nice terrace overlooking the ocean-side green that seemed inviting and I assumed would promise some outdoor heaters for its elite clientèle. Sitting out there, I listened to the golfer/tourists talk about all sorts of inane things that angered me, such as the rice shortage being fake and naming all the different cars one has. I tried to ignore them and read McSweeney’s and the election coverage in the paper, which I liked doing, because it felt good to flip open the paper and feel informed and part of things. Besides this brief hour on the cold terrace, I spent the day worried I wasn’t doing enough—I had a stack of books I brought (probably like 15), and a list of things to blog about and a handful of DVD’s to watch and then the whole praying business I came for in the first place. As I meandered home feeling defeated that I could only make it one hour on the cold terrace, I felt anxious and unproductive. I wondered which books I should read. I worried over what I would write. Am I doing what I am supposed to here, God?

I decided that since Vanier had been good to me last night, I would continue in that vain. Plus, I would feel good to maybe make it half way through this book.

And yes, Vanier was good to me;

That is why the Lord says:
‘For I will remove the names of Ba’als from her mouth’ (Hos 2:17)

which means,
‘I will take away all those things that have become idols for you,
the thing that you worship in place of God;
things that have taken on too much importance,
such as money, efficiency, know-how, reputation,
even friendship and community.
You have put your trust in them instead of in me.’

Reading this, I realized that even in my pursuit of a “spiritual retreat”, I let my idols of productivity, of busy-ness and of efficiency come in the way, causing anxiety and doubt about my time here to just eat away at any joy and peace I was hoping would come out of it. And of course, in reading this, there is the realization that in so many ways I let idols take the place of my worship of God… all of the above, and then some. Seeing this reality, letting it set itself in my heart, was a relief.

To see again that my poverty is always present makes the love God has for me that much more astonishing. I beat myself up now and almost always, with the feeling that I am never done. I am a compulsive list maker and long for the day when everything is crossed off the list. But its not ever done, those lists. I want to be a good friend, who keeps up on quality time, and phone calls and emails and correspondence, and no matter how much I try, there is always more. I long to be a prolific writer, keeping up on blogs, writing articles one day, perhaps even a book at some point… but I can barely blog once a month. These, to some extent, are just surface things, but there are a hundred more ways I feel I don’t measure up- my sensitive ego, my insatiable need to please others, my selfish hoarding of my time and resources, to name a few.

Vanier sums it up well:

"We tend to think that it is impossible for God to call us
and to love us as we are today.
We feel we are not good enough,
that we are totally unworthy of that love."

But he goes on:

"Yet if we listen, God constantly reminds us:
'I love you just as you are
and I am calling you today, ‘come and be with me.’
You may have been unfaithful at times
Because you forgot me;
that is why I am leading you once more into the wilderness
so that you can understand how much I love you
and so that you may know me.”

Let us take time to listen to God.
Perhaps we can just sit down near a tree
And hear God say to us
‘you are beloved
you are precious in my eyes and I love you.’

And this, this is what I needed to read, today, this moment. The truth of this lead me to pray, to really pray and let out my heart—to recognize all of my imperfections and bask in the truth that God loves me in the midst of them. To speak to him about all the things on my heart, all the people I care for, all the worries I have over my work and my future and my heart. To pray out of a place of knowing and taking in the love of God – this is what I wanted. And what I want to continue.

I often worry that when I share who Jesus is to me with someone who may not believe in Him as the son of God, that I will come across as insincere, or lacking in tough life experience. I worry that the gravity of my own little life won’t have much weight to someone who has had it tougher than I have had. Again Vanier speaks to this in relaying a story about one day when he spoke to a prison about God’s love. One prisoner challenged him, saying that Vanier had had and easy life, that he couldn’t possibly understand the difficulty of the lives of the prisoners there. The prisoner listed the events of his disastrous childhood- rape and prostitution and imprisonment. To this Vanier was silenced, but then thoughtfully replies

“it is I true, I do not know what you have lived.
But what I do know is
That everything you have just said is important”

Vanier gets permission to share this mans story with those outside the prison and encourages this man that when he does get out of prison, that he may need to listen to stories of people about life outside of the prison.

Everything you have just said is important.

Vanier listened and heard him. He validated him. And he encouraged him to do the same, to see things beyond what he had experienced.

I want to be this. To be a listener, first, to hear what someone is saying. I won’t be able to match every story I hear—even Jesus did not experience the lives of the prostitutes and tax collectors and sinners he encountered—but he heard them. And he offered them healing. Not co-dependent, weird, get-away-with- whatever-you-want, you-had-a-tough-childhood type of stuff- but honest healing and love from the source that never stops coming.

And to be a conduit of that source, I must know that source myself…. I must know it well. We have no business trying to help anyone else unless we know full well where our own healing comes from. What are we offering if we don’t? Our own depleted, half-grown, broken, numbed out, holier than thou selves are not going do anyone any good, even with the best of intentions. After Vaniers section on God’s love, he immediately goes into how that love translates to helping the needy and marginalized. But the love came first- the reminder of our source, the God above and within, that loves us more than we are capable of understanding, that came first.

As I watch the ocean disappear behind the contrasted trees, water trickles from the fountain outside. I imagine God as the source of all the water on earth, even the source of the ocean so powerful and beyond comprehension. From this source, every ocean, stream, river and lake is provided with water. And then I imagine us, at our little fountains and ponds and creeks, trying to provide people with sustenance by the power of our own tiny trickles of water. And while, yes, God is in our little streams, we must continually show those without that the source is far greater than us.

the cottage castle retreat

2008-05-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

This is the most ridiculous view you have ever seen, its absolutely unreal. I am sitting in the sun room of a little miniature tower- part castle, part English country home. It’s beautifully decorated and quaint (old fashioned/old lady country style), warm and cozy. But this being alone here is quite difficult. I felt I had been craving solitude for months, sensed this need to be away from the everyday machine of work, play, friends, bills, errands, busy, schedule, email, traffic, shopping, money. Not that I live in some crazy city or something… but life is this way, no matter where you live. If I were a farmer, it would be just as busy, but in a different way- getting up early, eating before light, working the fields, tending the cows, whatever.

So here I am on my retreat, away from all that, and its really really difficult. I woke up this morning semi-panicked—what am I going to do with myself? The gray skies lied to me all morning, looking like 6am for hours— which caused multiple back-to-sleeps, resulting in my getting out of bed at 12:44pm. I think I slept for 12 hours, but I don’t know, since I don’t have my phone and there are no clocks in this place. For most of last night and the morning, I didn’t have any clue what time it was. Which should have been nice, except my compulsive need to be busy, to have a reason to do something, to have a sense of purpose, kept me from enjoying this mellow schedule I am supposed to have here.

I mean, that, and it could be the fact that the gray hasn’t lifted at all since yesterday. All the perfect pebble beach trees and the ocean waiting beyond have no shadow, no contrast, because all the sky can give them is the matte, depressing gray. The weather report last night said partly cloudy, highs in the low 60’s… and of course it had to pan over to santa cruz and report sun and upper 60’s. This is my vice, of course, the pursuit of the sun. I want it/need it so badly… to have it beat down on me, to feel the warmth all around, to be perfectly at peace with all my surroundings. This may explain my sense of hopelessness, at the moment, to some extent.

But even with sun, I would expect that the anxiety and lack of hope I feel would remain, because I am here, with an entire day left, to do whatever it is I want. And though this should be relaxing and fun, looking back on the last 24 hours, I am not too pleased with what I chose for them. I was late in getting here (of course), got lost somehow (of course) and when I did arrive, I hadn’t thought ahead enough to bring food with me (of course). So I ventured back out into traffic and had to spend an hour getting food basics, only to find that the yummy looking quesadilla I had picked from the local deli had the stinkiest cheese I had ever smelled and tasted terrible. Back here in the cozy cottage/tower, I proceeded to watch television for about 6 hours straight, all the while cursing myself for not being more “productive.” Its not that I was even watching anything particularly good- but I have this problem… television is literally an addiction for me. Chalk it up to watching it constantly as a child, but the minute I turn it on, unless you give me a reason to stop, I will watch and watch as the dark of night surrounds me and I am enveloped in the blue haze, until I pass out in a pop culturally mind-numbed bliss.

By the grace of God, I finally switched it off somewhere between 11 and 12 (but who really knows?). I sat laying there, in quiet, wanting to talk to God, but feeling like a fake. I did, finally, confessing my doubt at Him, my doubts about all these areas of my life, my fear at failing, of being numb, of never feeling like I am actually doing anything with my life. I finally made it up the spiral stairs to my bed and opened “Befriending the Stranger” by Jean Vanier.

“God’s ways are not our ways; God’s choices are not the choices of society.
God chooses “the poor, the weak, the needy”,
Those who recognize their poverty—
Not just a material poverty but an inability to cope with life,
A feeling of powerlessness and not knowing what to do.
A mother who has just lost a child is “poor”.
A women whose husband has left her is “poor”.
A man who has lost his job is “poor”.
The girl who learns she has cancer is “poor”.
The man who senses his body growing older and weaker is “poor”.
People who are faced with difficult family situations are “poor”.

The problem is that we refuse to admit our weakness, our needs, our poverty
because we are frightened of rejection.
We have been taught to be strong, to be “the best”, to win
in order to become “someone”.
Since society tends to marginalize those who are weak
we think weakness means rejection.
Se we try to hide our own poverty for as long as we can
and to pretend we are strong;
We build up an appearance of being in control.

We need to hear that gentle, inner voice of God who tells us:
“You do not need to pretend.
You do not need to hide your weakness.
You can bee yourself.
I didn’t call you to community
First of all to help others
or to prove that you were generous or efficient.
I called you because you are poor,
Just like the ones you cane to serve
And because the Kingdom of God is promised to the poor.”

Read that again.

And then again.

After a couple times, I realized that it was exactly what I didn’t know that I needed to hear.

Coinciding with this retreat, I was in an existential mini-crisis about my purpose and place in the world. What was I really doing to serve the Kingdom? Is my heart truly surrendered to God and His will and direction for my heart and life?—or am I in a pattern, a way, that makes it easy to appear so, while all the while allowing my heart to soak in my own comfort and selfishness? Am I effective in my job? Is anyone in the church really experiencing community?

And in the midst of all the questions, the shame.

I am not doing enough. There are still people who feel alone when they walk through our doors. The people of myranmar are dying every second. The world is hungrier now than ever before. I am selfish with my time, trapped in a bubble. I don’t truly give myself to others. And on and on.

I am not poor in material wealth. I am not poor in friends or purpose. I am not poor by the standards of outside looking in.

But I am poor in spirit.

Because of my own, broken humanity,

I crave my own comfort.
I defer to my own needs before others.
I stay busy so I don’t have to feel.
I am addicted to being needed, because I am scared of being useless.
I have little, if any, self-control.

I am weak.

And I know that in all these things, and in more,
I need God,
who loves me beyond reason.

Later, Vanier (who is Henri Houwen’s mentor) goes on to say

“Let us ask Jesus to help us discover our poverty,
not to be frightened or ashamed of it
and to become more aware of our call, our mission.

God’s call is different for each one of us
And yet it is the same.
It is a call to grow in love, in wisdom and in inner freedom,
And thus to bring greater love, peace and freedom into the world.
Once we have recognized our call and found our place-
which takes time-
Then we need to learn to put down roots
and to be faithful to that call.

Each person has his/her role in building the community.
Each has to deepen his/her sense of being called.
It takes time for choices to deepen, to mature and to bear fruit.
Each call is unique
but we are all called to give life
and to give life together, as a community.”

As sad as it is to say, being the director of community for our church, the heart of these two truths I have forgotten- that beyond all our details and circumstance, we are simply called to give life and to give it together in community.

How easy it is for me to forget my source of life- God… and easy to forget that I actually do need God.
How easy it is to forget my context, that life is given in community. And that I need community.

Maybe there is a reason I don’t feel so good here.

The loneliness I feel, even after one day, feels like fasting from food. Food is not bad, it gives our physical bodies life and sustenance—but when we fast, it reminds us of our weakness, and how blessed we are that we do have food, when we get to have it again. I feel the same for the people in my life right now. I am fasting from them to be reminded that despite how busy I get or overwhelmed I get, I need them. I need them around to remind me I am human, that I am accepted and loved… and specifically that my acceptance and love comes through the truth of God’s presence in my life. The community I have is, and must remain, a constant reminder that the body of Christ is bonded together through God, who is our source, the headwater in our streams of life. He has given us to each other as gifts, to remind each other of what is true and right.

As dirty as I feel about my television overdose, some of what I saw yesterday reflects some of what I am realizing right now—

In “Walk the Line,” Johnny needed June to help him from his darkness. June needed Johnny so she would stop being afraid of love.

On “Wife Swap,” over-controlling family from Michigan needed mellow family from Ohio to learn how to be more free and less rigid (though they didn’t listen in the end). Ohio family needed Michigan family to help them have structure and boundaries, so they could raise healthier kids and have saner lives (and they did listen in the end).

In “Rent,” the rag-tag bohemians absolutely needed each other to survive the ravages of AIDS, materialism, poverty and prejudice- their liveliness and creativity thrived from being together.

On “Sex and the City,” Carrie and the gals realized the value of family/community, created or biological, as a place to come home to when everything else feels lost or broken.

Even the Home Shopping Network sellers of a hair care product looked so happy and alive being together, testing their hairspray on each other and receiving calls from housewives delighted to be part of their experience.

Its so funny what happens to you when you spend enough time alone.

bits

2008-04-24T00:20:00.000-07:00

i have like 50 blogs in me right now.

but i learned yesterday that due to the fact that I am an Extravert on the Myers-Briggs, some of my vulnerabilities are "distraction and suggestibility" which means that i am easily distracted and that if i am planning to do a specific task (blog, write, read, exercise, whatever) and something better or more pressing or more immediate comes up, then i am prone to be easily suggested in the new direction. so, i will not apologize for my not blogging for two months, i will only say that i intend to be more balanced in my overall personality, which will in turn help my blogging commitment, but this will probably take some time to change.

i am going to give you random out of order bits of my mind, with potentially longer blogs to follow.

1. i love my boyfriend. i just read his blog and all his thoughts and it made me love him so much. he would hate that i am being gushy in public like this, but i can't help it. this leads to the larger point that i am beginning to appreciate the introvert. being in a relationship with one for almost 8 months now has helped me learn to really soak up the opposite end of the spectrum. as i observe introverts in my life, here is what i see: introverts talk less. they listen better. when they do say something, its usually brilliant, well thought through and intentional. introverts are full of imagination and thought, but they don't need to always talk about it- they are subtler and easier in what they present, and they are not obvious. they tend to be ok with not being the center of everything, thus they seem more humble, gentle and sweet. i am jealous at their not talking. i want to be one, and i have moments, but i still talk too much, need to be the center and can't quite grasp that precious subtlety.

2. fashion shows are great and weird. i attended my first a few weeks ago, on that one hot weekend of glory. what i loved there was this intense sense of creativity and creation. all the people who flooded in to watch oozed with fashion and innovation-- for some forced, others beautifully hidden and delicate and simple. the music was inspiring and layered, thad completely rocked it. the clothes were recycled and great, being pushed and slinked down that runway like nothing else by the eclectic range models. they chose such a great variety of models, too, all different sizes, shades, attitudes. i was exceedingly proud of my friends who were in it, many of them involved with our church community, but totally immersed in this whole other world of color and texture. i loved how create the theme was too- all about nature and the elements, models and clothes representing the earth, reptiles, birds, early humans, the earth, the sun. so great.

the one thing that kept getting me was how many of the models didnt look at anyone- they just stared straight ahead, like they were looking for something or someone more important. this was the only real disconcerting part for me. i don't think i can be ok with that sense of detachment. if someone is in the room with you, seeing you, shouldn't they see you? but this was all that i could complain of. every other part was just so exciting and fun.

the best part, though, was at the end. once the crowds had cleared, i saw 3 women from our church-- they were each in their "dress up" clothes, two un their 60's and one in her 90's. they came to see the lovable Yarek, one half of the Ukrainian duo who keep VFC euro-fabulous at 9am on sundays. their presence about killed me. i loved that they came, that they wanted to support him, that they would drive over the hill and watch the show and then wait for Yarek in this eclectic art gallery, full of 20-something kids trying so hard to be something different and new and out of the ordinary, when really, it was these 3 who were the most unique parts of the night.

3. i have realized that one part of my job that's so hard is that i have to teach things to people that i don't think i completely understand or know.

ok, actually, will finish soon... have to go to sleep now...

all the things i have needed to say

2008-02-20T22:01:00.000-08:00

Ok…. I have been neglecting you , blog, for quite some time, I know.

I know… Truth is, I’ve needed this space.

But i am ready again and i have a few things I’ve wanted to tell:

christmas goodness
I had a wonderful Christmas. Literally, from Dec 1st, on, was great. A redeemed Christmas season, I like to say, because up until this point, Christmas-time since before I can remember has been bad… real bad.

But this Christmas, I:

• Got my first Christmas tree for my own place….which came with mistletoe…. which my roommate promptly hung in every doorway of our house ;)

• Home-made most of my Christmas presents (scented candles), in the spirit of Advent Conspiracy, which also inspired much of our teaching for december, a rad prayer path (yay render), 2 local service projects, a global support of living water international, a coffeeshop art show and lots of relational bonding throughout the church :)

• Held a good ol’ fashioned Christmas white elephant exchange with our church family to say thanks to all those who serve at VFC

• Shopping in Union Square in SF on the busiest shopping weekend of the year

• Participated in an Advent celebration, made my own wreath (which got hung on my apartment door), ate way too many cookies and sung Christmas carols.

• Celebrated Christmas morning with the Jensen family at Juletta (spelling?) which included waking up at 5am, jumping on the sleeping brothers, singing more Christmas classics (doing so at 6am with lots of sweaters is a Swedish tradition, i guess), drinking lots of caffeine, opening gifts of inspiration and then celebrating the end of the night with three special words from a very special someone.

• Feeling a deep sense of peace… a certain awe at the celebration of Jesus’ birth… a sincere wonder at the true heart of Christmas… an honest appreciation for my life, an appreciation that transcended the circumstances being good and reached toward something eternal.

goodbyes
On a sadder note, my Gramma Marlyn died in November. She was a good woman, a hard woman at times, but loved God in her way and is at peace. All told, I spent 10 days this past fall/winter in Ohio because of her decline and then death, and each day reminded me of how much I appreciate my life in Santa Cruz. I deeply love my extended family, but I also see the brokenness of that life…the routine of not hearing anything at all, of falling back into the pattern of anger, bitterness, pride, just not seeing. Almost a senselessness…. Like nothing is seen, nothing is heard, nothing is felt, beyond the present emotion. Life laps the shore endlessnessly, pointlessly, eroding…. Nothing overtly beautiful to it, at least not that I can see. But there are those moments and those looks that give me hope and I remember that I believe in a God who is capable of far more. I must hope.

e x p a n s i o n
I continue to be challenged by the Theodyssey course I am taking. Every bit of it is at once comfortably familiar (thanks to my years of therapy) and strikingly fresh (new ways to see the new self). We took a retreat in January that just filled me right up and inspired me to the brink, causing me to believe that every single person in the church should take this class. As soon as I articulated this out loud to my fellow retreaters, I realized that this was complete madness. You have to be ready and willing for something like this and it’s not easy to stick with. But worth it, to me, in what I see of it, because it’s changing everything and affirming everything, too. More later on this, I am sure.

this wall
For years, probably 3, I have felt myself striving for something. Direction for my future, a light on a path toward something else, a path or a destination or a place that is somehow obvious and perfect and easy to choose. But thus far, my life, its only this staying. In this stability, though, I have grown real and true. I really think this. I don’t regret not leaving or pursuing beyond what I have, because what I have and have had is just good. Real and true…. Really, honestly, just good.

But just beneath that stable goodness that has allowed so much and taught so much, lurks the next steps. I am being prepared, there is no question…. but for what, I don’t know. And everyone asks/encourages…. You should write. You should travel. You should pursue your masters. And I love that. But the what, the what. What, what… what…. is the what? (a good question and an excellent book). I don’t think I know my what and I feel like time is now beginning to slip away.

I am 26. They say babies aren’t safe past the mid-30’s, that you gotta pop those things out early to be safe. My dad had this conversation with me the other day, especially cause i only got the one ovary now. But, um, Dad, shouldn’t I have a husband first? Shouldn’t we figure that out first? And the dozens of engagements swirling around (slight exaggeration, but not by much) exert that 6-month pressure on me that seems unavoidable in Christian dating world—you’ve been together 6 months, are you getting engaged?! Are you kidding me?! This is the rest of my life!!...Can I have at least a year to figure that decision out? Is that ok with you? But, I digress.

So, I feel this wall. Like I have seen it from far away and known it’s coming. I even sometimes think its right in front of me, like my depth perception is off (it’s right here! I am going to hit it! It’s right in front of me, I can’t find a way through! What will I do?!) …but then I realize I have awhile to go before I hit it. And I feel safe again, knowing it’s impending, but knowing I have time. And I enjoy the present, as we do, giving slightly less consideration than I should for what I wish were a farther future.

But now, the length and height and width are more apparent, and it’s bigger and more beautiful and more terrifying than I had first expected. I was way off on this thing. And now, sitting here in the Gypsy Den in Orange County, having been up since 4:54am, traveled down here, sat through 8 hours of a conference, I am worn and tired, my emotions raw-- 07I feel like I could cry for all I want to know and all I want to say. Prayers have been sparse, I feel like I have said it all before. Revelation has been sporadic, something larger seems like it should come. Decisions have been avoided, I will wait for one that simply can’t be ignored. In this state, I just run my hands along the wall, feeling for the opening, waiting for that space that will let me through.

bells resonance

2007-11-06T22:04:00.000-08:00

i have spent most of my life very acutely aware of my "issues." therapy and "deep talks" were just a part of everyday life from a very early age. my parents are, as i often say, intensity junkies and deep talkers. superficial small talk is nearly non-existent when i am with them. most of the issues and most of that acute awareness of self i have experienced has served me well and i find myself often counseling (with permission or not ;) ) most of my friends and even some acquaintances. to be candid, i often think i have a fair amount of understanding of self and of how to navigate those tumultuous emotional waters tossing and turning beneath our surfaces. but often i turn to look in me and i find myself covered in salty, dark, heavy waves i cannot even recognize as the sea at all. i find that all the navigation i thought i had done sometimes leaves me back in the same place i began.

i am currently taking a class on spiritual formation that i am convinced every single person who claims to follow jesus should take at one point. it is filled with the most simple truth and profound reality that i have yet to encounter in my faith... all the hints of what felt right in different christian settings and all the glimmers of what hope might look like in conversation and all the deep wisdom of such profound texts seems to be reflected in the content of this course. i dont want to be one of those people who says "try this [book/class/church/group/____], it will change your life" but if i had to choose one thing that i would say that about, its this.

i cant even go into all i have learned so far... its all so fresh, but at the same time, all so timeless, ((argh, i could write a book))-- but tonight seemed to illuminate something in me. so much movement happened in my heart, so many things rang true, so much was spoken just for me, it felt. a knot has been knitted in my throat, emotions just waiting to become real, its scary to think of letting that floodgate go. its still there, making it slightly hard to breathe.

you see, i am learning/understanding how to articulate a profound truth that we all see and experience life through a grid. first, before the grid, i learned that our perceptions of the world are formed very intensely in two periods of life-- a collection of images in our pre-verbal stage and a dependence on physical touch from others builds our early experience and impacts how we understand our place in the world and our value to others... am i accepted? am i lovable? am i worthy? before we are 3, mom is the primary giver of our acceptance, love, worth. then, in our pre-teens, we move away from dependence on mom (we were connected so deeply in the womb, we must naturally seperate and find ourselves away from her) and seek approval from dad, who tells us how to behave. if i am his daughter, i define the reality of my feminity based on how dad reacts to my change from girl to woman. if i am his son, i define my very masculinity on what he shows me and how he accepts me.

so the grid. through it we see our life. much of our grid can be good-- accomplishments, moments of love and acceptance, growth, healthy development. we see clearly through these spots, experience the reality of how life should be. but we also have these marred parts of the grid. the parts where things went wrong. mark #1: dad left before i became a woman... i can't trust that anyone will actually love me and stay with me... i am afraid of being left. mark #2: mom was chaotic and untrustworthy... i won' t be safe or provided for... i must be totally self sufficient. our marred grid spots keep us from the freedom to live without fear, keeps us from living in the fullness of how our creator has made us.

putting the intensity of my already hyper-aware mind together with the way this class articulates how we experience life at these deeper levels, i find this to be the best thing ever. not because it solves all the problems and not because it makes things easier. it just gives me voice. and words. makes these dark waves a little more clear.

so... do we have to live with these marred grids? must we always keep coming back to the same spots, realizing they block our view, making our perception of reality false?

they are etched into us, yes, and will always be there... but we have a choice as to whether we live by them, or whether we live in the freedom we find beyond them.

there are those bells that ring in those quaint small towns on the hour. you have to pull at them, those ones in the big bell tower. even after you pull on them enough times as there are hours, they keep on ringing, the ropes moving up and down with the bells weight. but as the bells stop being pulled, their sound gets fainter and fainter, the resonance lighter, till you can't really hear them anymore. we always have the bells, and they ring... but maybe when we know them well enough, know what they are, and why they are, we only experience the fainter resonance of their sound... once a day... then once a week... then once a month...

then, just once in a while.

2007-10-13T09:10:00.000-07:00

three days ago calls came in and flights were boooked. my birthday became preparation and washed by. friends faithful through it, one seeing my tears and weakspots and being steady in spite. long sleepless flights, body aching. seeing her wheeled in, i put my face near hers as the sun broke in and she smiles. would this be her last october?

death feels poetic when family flocks from everywhere...when people cancel and miss and excuse and fly great distances... when tears come spontaneously, in sad and glad...when hospice nurses observe 20 people squeeze into her small soft lit room to pray "our fathers" and "hail marys" and "now i lay me down to sleep," to say nice things before she falls asleep....

death is not poetic when the amublance drivers almost drop her as they transfer her from gurney to bed.... when hours of waiting produce guilty boredom.... when she can't use the bathroom on her own... when you just let her smoke one more cigaratte because it doesnt matter at this point

she does not have enough time

there is not enough time

2007-10-09T22:26:00.000-07:00

there is not enough time for all the music i want to listen to
there is not enough time for all the books i want to read
there is not enough time for all the magazines i subscribe to to be worth it
there is not enough time for all the amazing movies to be seen
there is not enough time for all the conversations i want to have
there is not enough time for all the questions i want answered
there is not enough time for all the places i want to see
there is not enough time for all the people i want to meet
there is not enough time for all the pages i want to absorb from the word that never fails
there is not enough time for all the ways i want to love
there is not enough time for all the things i want to learn
there is not enough time for me to sit and think
there is not enough time to cry
there is not enough time to be lazy
there is not enough time to stare out the window and wonder
there is not enough time to ride bikes in the sun
there is not enough time to absorb life happening in all the small ways around me
there is not enough time
there is not enough time
there is not enough tme
there is not enough time

she does not have enough time

chosing hope.

2007-09-06T23:52:00.000-07:00

its been a church heavy time. i have been so immersed in church busy-work this last 2 weeks, its not the kind you hate, but a good busy-ness, so many good things ahead. its been interesting over the past 3.5 years working in a church setting because you get all sorts of different perspectives on what church means... some people love the church (as in the organized church that usually meets sundays and has ministries, etc) and cant get enough- it's their lifeline, group of friends, place to serve, sense of belonging- essentially, it's their family. others have been deeply wounded by the church--"burned by the church" is a term i hear almost daily. and i think both of these people are valid in their view and dont discredit or undermine their experiences or any experience that lands somewhere on the huge gray scale between the love and hate relationship we can have with "the church." because of all the "church" focus, i am having all these thoughts swimming around in my brain about "church"... if i may....

someone saying they have been "burned by the church" is almost analogous to someone saying that they have been hurt by another human being. its bound to happen to anyone and everyone at some point, especially because the church is made up of a bunch of fallen people. but just like when one person hurts another, there needs to be apologies. and just like in person to person relationshops, there needs to be forgiveness, even when you don't feel like it. and both sides need to recognize the part they played in the "hurt," because often times its miscommunication... or unmet/unrealized expectations... or a whole plethora of other relational glitches we have all experienced.

no matter where you go, what organization you are part of, who you hang out with, how hard you try... things are always going to be at least slightly messed up and broken, if not totally messed up and utterly broken. you can look at any organization (including a church) or business or group of collected people, secular or non, and there are bound to be dysfunctions, disagreements, dis-satisfaction, and more. people are messed up. fallen. broken. prideful. sinful. some organizations and groups are more healthy than others, but all, every single one of them, is in process. they may be caught up in dysfunction at the moment and have no awareness of a need to change. or they could be coming out of dysfunction, on the path to healing and wholeness collectively. but no one, no group, no human-involved thing is without flaw. this does not mean we allow for brokenness to permeate and become the way we function. no. no way. we are just constantly looking forward, not worrying that we aren't enough or that we aren't where others are (collectively or individually), but we just ask "what is my next step in this?" (mark scandrette taught me that). and i just feel that if we can truly internalize these things, really allow the truth of our brokenness and the hope of our continual restoration, to just live in us-- man, it would just change the world.

there is hope. oh, oh, do i believe it. i have heard about lots of people becoming "dis-enfranchised" from the church, in various places and for various reasons. this makes me sad, often it makes me doubt what i do as a person in paid ministry and makes me want to give up hope. but hope, hope is everywhere. i see it so plainly. re-imagine in sf is this amazing group of people committed to exist in a real kingdom way, in a neighborhood, covenanted around 7 values, striving to live in the way of jesus and yearning to make a difference in the lives of those around them. not an "organized church" in the traditional sense, it is jesus' church in every sense. and they are aware of their shortcomings, weaknesses, questions, failings. and though they don't "go to church" or have meetings in the same way, they still support and encourage more traditional churches, helping their leaders understand community values, even training one churches entire set of small group leaders. we got to have some members of their community come play music in our coffeehouse-- they form a band, the cobalt season, and they are "hopeful protest music." perfect. love it. i got to chat to them and some others who came from re-imagine and it was so refreshing not only to hear bits about what re-imagine is up to, but also to see their openness and their encouragement of what we were doing in our church setting. similarly, theodyssey is an organization that hosts intense 9 month spiritual formation courses- anyone from any church (or even anyone not part of a church at all) are able to take classes, and the leader, dave, works with local church leaders and members in the bay area, in portland and in other parts of the country. though he is part of a home church, he still believes in the mission of the local church and helps its leaders pursue a healthier and more holistic view of spiritual formation. even tonight, we met with many members of a smaller, denominational church we have partnered with in town. in pursuit of joining with them, we had an open meeting sharing why we wanted to join, and explaining that though it meant sacrifice on both parts, we believed joining as one was essential for the pursuit of the kingdom in santa cruz. during the course of the night, person after person from their small church came up to share why they thought joining together was essential. each one kept pointing to God's larger purpose in all of this, to the mission of seeing people of all ages, from all backgrounds and experiences, welcomed and loved in the way of Jesus. i was near tears for most of it, i just couldnt believe it. its all of these encounters, and many more, that give me hope.

re-reading this, i may be viewed as an eternal optimist, someone not in tune with the suffering or the "reality" of the world around me. this is not true and the darkness and brokeness of the world is often laid heavy on my heart and i have wrestled, especially these last months, with my place in being a small part of a redemptive movement to help this dark and dying world. but i figure i can wallow in the reality of the broken all the time, or i can allow it to touch me and affect me and permeate me to an extent and then chose to recognize that the only force for change that offers any actual hope or real change or absolute redemption is the saving power of our creator chosing us and love us and pursuing us with unrelenting, uncompromised, and unbelievable passion. and if it is my aim to be part of that force, then i can't help but see hope.

mystics and relvolutionaries

2007-08-29T00:31:00.000-07:00

in the midst of my almost incessant thinking about how to affect change in the world, i began reading/continued reading "the wounded healer" by henri nouwen. its never a linear journey through a book for me, i have these problems.

i don't even want to try to explain his wisdom and insights, i will just leave a quote to express where my heart rests currently on the issue:

"it is my growing conviction that in jesus the mystical and the revolutionary ways are not opposites, but two sides of the same human mode of experiential transcendence [he has early argued that modern humanity is searching for meaning through experiential transcendence in a mystical way or in a revolutionary way, as two totally separate pursuits]. i am increasingly convinced that conversion is the individual equivalent of revolution. therefore, every real revolutionary is challenged to be a mystic at heart, and he who walks the mystical way is called to unmask the illusory quality of human society. mysticism and revolution are two aspects of the same attempt to bring about radical change. no mystic can prevent himself from becoming a social critic, since in self-reflection he will discover the roots of a sick society. similarly, no revolutionary can avoid facing his own human conditions, since in the midst of his struggle for a new world, he will find he is also fighting his own reactionary fears and false ambitions"

death

2007-08-21T17:37:00.000-07:00

i had a dream last night that my brother died. it was the most helpless feeling, he had been there, cracking jokes, laughing, being his normal little brother self. then just gone. gone. i woke up with tears on my face and desperation.

death has felt present these last months, and though its always everywhere, right now, i feel like its right here. not ominous. just present.

both my grandmothers face it simultaneously. one, sick for 20 years with diabetes and all the ways its tearing her body apart. she is scared to die, scared to leave her husband, scared she will miss out on life here. she knows she will be with God when she goes and wants more than anything for her whole family to be with Him. she prays all the time for my family, she says. though she believes in heaven, she is scared to die. the other, sick for the last few years from the effects of smoking since she was 12, is not scared to die, but is not letting go easily. one moment, she will be ready to let go, refusing to eat and drink. the next, she wants to go to the hospital for an iv. her daughters don't know how she wants to die. she wants more than anything for the whole family to believe in God and be together in heaven. she prays every night for my sister, brother, dad.

my mothers co-worker recently died, inexplicably. she was in her 30's, a preschool teacher. they closed the preschool last week one day for the funeral. they dont know what happened.

a bicyclist was killed on a major road in town a few weeks ago. a semi-truck, a wrong turn. and he is gone.

a few months ago, a friend lost a sibling to suicide. his art hangs on our coffeehouse walls, reminding us of potential we think was cut short in his decision... perhaps of potential realized just in time. i could not understand my friends pain until last nights dream. now in the smallest ways, its present, next to me.

what of death tasted and then retreating? before last nights dream, my roommate and i had talked about near-death experience... the "unconditional love" some say they feel in the moments when faced with death. 90 minutes in heaven, one pastor claims, is what he experienced before returning back to live out the rest of his days having tasted the ultimate unknown.

one of our pastors revels in reminding us, in an oddly endearing way, that when we see the elderly people who come mondays and fridays to use our church building, that all of us will be there someday, will all someday pass away.

its the only guarantee we have of anything, beyond our birth.

after her co-workers death, my mother spoke with someone close to us who reads the obituaries everyday. she does it, habitually, thinking if she knows about death enough, the age of death, the cause, perhaps she can control or understand it more or somehow get it. she feels that being older, with no more kids in the house, with many of her dreams accomplished already, with nothing to look forward to, really, that she has no purpose. and so death is all there is. and death is scary, completely unknown.

a few weeks ago, we visited one of our oldest and newest church members in the icu. she lay there, as we entered, glowing. the doctors had pulled all the machines keeping her alive. she had made this decision, she said, and was at peace with it. and she was right. peace, peace. just peace. so simple and uncomplicated. she was facing the biggest unknown, the thing most of us fear the most and she was doing it with confidence. i am not sure i had seen such beauty. we got to spend a few moments with her on one of her last days on earth, praying with her, touching her hand. she passed the next week. her daughters told us the doctors commented that they never see people die with such peace and dignity like she did.

i am not sure what to think if this all. death still elludes me. what it will be like. what it will feel like. but i think i know how i want to go. with peace and confidence. dignity. unafraid.

addiction....

2007-08-15T00:32:00.000-07:00

...is so fascinating to me, which sounds terrible because it destroys everything it touches. but i think it explains a lot about god.

addiction messes up your pleasure centers- once you have indulged in an addictive behavior enough, a chemical reaction (or something like that) happens in you and it begins to tell the pleasure center of your brain that you can only be happy if you are doing that behavior. and the desire in us to access the pleasure center that allows us happiness is an extremely powerful drive. so when its messed up and reprogrammed, things are not good. once those chemicals mess with your pleasure center, stopping your brain from thinking that drinking/having sex/shooting up/working/shopping/eating/(insert addiction here) is not the center of all your happiness is nearly impossible.

which makes sense.

god asks us to be extreme sometimes. and sometimes he asks us to walk the line between two extremes. sometimes he tells us its better to be in the middle than go too far one way. the fact that our brains are basically wired for moderation makes me feel like god is real. because he made our bodies and brains in line with his ways. he knows its not good for us to overindulge in certain things of this earth because he knows the only thing we can really overindulge in and never come away sick or addicted or broken from is pursuing him and his kingdom in a healthy way. he jealously wants our whole selves and has created our brains in a way that we must moderate what exactly we put inside of us and what we surround ourselves with. when we don't, something inside us becomes broken.

but what's even better about God is that when we often fail to keep ourselves from extremity and addiction (because we are all addicted to many things, if we think about it honestly), he still redeems us. still heals us. still picks us up off the ground and teaches us to keep walking.

there is no place more comfortable for me than in an aa meeting. its the environment i grew up in, the aa crowd, and i loved it so much. these people know brokenness, failure, destitution, the view from the bottom. but that much more, they know mercy, forgiveness, humility, grace. they are the realest group of people i know. i wish the church was more like them in seeing the deep brokenness we all carry around, admitting it as a reality openly and still getting up everyday and facing life with the belief that we can be redeemed.

what recovering addicts know is how to live out of their broken state. when we can truly learn to live out of our broken state, we can truly learn the meaning of humility. and in humility, grace.