I am sitting in the living room of my new home in my new town after a day of work at my new job at my new church....you get the idea. There is a lot of "new" for me and my family right now. Christmas tends to lend itself to traditions and "old". I don't think we make a lot of room for "new" at the holidays, yet my life is full of it right now. And I am finding that oddly okay.
I typically wrap up a lot of expectations in the Christmas season, you know the normal stuff - the perfect tree, just the right amount of house lights and decorations, great-tasting fudge, pretty sugar cookies, just the right gift - and for all the "right" reasons, but still, a lot of expectations. I wanted this year to be different - - I wanted a "new" way of thinking about Christmas this year, a simpler, more-meaningful way to celebrate the holiday. I wanted - no, I felt "called" to - a deeper Christmas experience this year. And I think I'm getting it.
I think its in Jeremiah that God says, "I am doing a new thing.....". So am I this year. I guess I'm in good company.
December 19, 2007
December 13, 2007
the golden compass
Being a children's minister, I subscribe to some very fun and informative websites and newsletters. One of them is Kidology (www.kidology.org) and, while the content is typically more conservative than my own theology (which, i realize it doesn't take much to have a more conservative theology than mine), I find wonderful stuff on this website. Today's e-newsletter was the best.
In a nutshell, there is a web-uproar amongst Christians about the new movie, The Golden Compass. If you haven't received one of these "warning emails", then you live under a rock. I've received a million. The author of The Golden Compass has some issues with God and Christianity and Christians ~~ oh, and CS Lewis. Millions are rallying to boycott the movie and "protect" our children. In the midst of this internet furor (God bless the web!), Karl Bastian, the "Kidologist", writes this beautiful and eloquent response:
(Title: A Golden Opportunity and an Open Letter to Philip Pullman
Author/Source: Karl Bastian, the Kidologist
Topic: Thoughts on The Golden Compass
Summary: Commentary on how Christians should approach Philip Pullman's
The Golden Compass.)
A Golden Opportunity and an Open Letter to Philip Pullman
"Here we go again," was my first thought when I got my first (of many)
e-mails warning me about the latest assault on Christianity in the
form of a major motion picture based on a trilogy of children's books
written by a professing atheist. The Golden Compass became almost an
obsession to parents and children's leaders across the nation as blogs
and church bulletins were filled with warnings against this "threat"
to our children.
The author, Philip Pullman, seemed pleased by the uproar and fueled
the debate himself with his own anti-Christian, anti-religious,
anti-God, and anti-C.S. Lewis comments. Unlike J.K. Rowling's Harry
Potter, whose message may have been harmful or dangerous to an
unparented child, but was not written for that purpose, Pullman
practically boasted his anti-Christian agenda. And so the e-mails and
blogosphere erupted in a frenzied panic to fight the message of this
upcoming film. (Remember The DaVinci Code?)
I'm all for this wave of helpful communication. Well crafted reviews
have been written both by Christian and secular reviewers (Focus on
the Family and TIME Magazine). We hosted a lengthy forum discussion on
the topic here at Kidology (as well as a practical movie review) with
good spirited debate about how serious the threat may be, and shared
resources to put into the hands of concerned parents. I shared my own
thoughts on the movie there – echoing many of the concerns that were
confirmed in my mind when I read the first book and viewed the film
for myself on opening night. Some will not agree with my conclusions,
and that's fine. Debate is one of the realities that makes our freedom
in America such a blessing, and the dialogue of ideas within online
communities one of the best applications of the Internet. Bring it on!
We all benefit from sharing and then being sharpened as others
challenge our thinking. But in the midst of the debate do we miss a
broader opportunity?
As often happens when the world infringes our assumption that everyone
ought to be Christian – Christians turn on each other and miss a
golden opportunity to get a glimpse into the hearts and minds of those
we are trying to reach. I find it tragic that when the world shows us
its hand, often through entertainment and literature that contradicts
the Truth we hold so dear – we show ours – and all too often it isn't
the nail-scared hands of mercy the world sees. Instead, they see just
how judgmental and self-righteous we can be and watch (sometimes with
surprise, other times with delight) as we in-fight over something that
isn't ours to begin with. Some embrace, some damn, while the rest
nitpick over every shade in-between. And then we wonder why so many
lost souls have no interest in joining our ranks! In our rush to
"protect the children" we miss out on our other calling – to reach a
lost world for Christ.
I am often surprised at the shock and awe the Church displays when
non-Christians produce something, well, um, non-Christian. All art,
literature and entertainment flows out of worldview. Some admit it,
others deny it, a few others are simply ignorant of it – but one
cannot help but produce out of the worldview one holds. It is
impossible to create without reflecting one's view of life, humanity
and even God. Those who would deny their worldview influenced their
work must look at why they need to insist such – an internal struggle
against their own convictions is usually at the root. From J.R.
Tolkien to C.S. Lewis to George Lucas to J.K. Rowling and now Philip
Pullman, authors have put their views of life and humanity on record
for readers to consider as well as enjoy.
I did not have to thoughtfully and intently incorporate my worldview
into my novel, The Order of the Ancient. The entire concept of my
novel and motivation to write it flowed out of what I think about the
world, where it is heading and the message I think needs to be
communicated in this world, today. This was not a conspiracy – it was
not sneaky – it is simply why authors write books. Likewise, it was
not a plot to brainwash children that inspired Pullman – it was a
reaction against something he found destructive (in this case the
Church) and by a message he wanted to get out.
It was a message that found a receptive audience – a point often
missed as we attack Pullman but give his thousands of readers a free
pass as though they were mere victims and not recommending the book to
others, giving it awards, or resonating with what they read enough to
buy Book 2 and 3. While we may wish to protect our children from
Pullman's message, it is a message we need to hear and understand, if
we are to ever reach him or the thousands of others who resonate with
what they read in his books. They would not be popular or the
recipient of awards if they did not echo themes that many others
believe and share.
Would I let my son see this movie or read the books? No. That is not a
passionate red-faced, panic-stricken, fuming paranoid "no," just
simply "no" because there are far better things for him to be reading
and viewing. Of the finite number of books he can read during his
childhood, I see no benefit to him reading these. If my son were older
and expressed an interest, or if his school required it, then I'd
probably allow it, but I would read it with him and use it as an
opportunity to talk about the inner struggles of lost people. Teaching
my son to think critically is as important as telling him what to
believe.
Pullman's books and theatrical release reveal much about what the
author, and in turn, his readers, believe about God and the Church we
believe He has established here on Earth. Condemning the books does
little to address the issues that inspired their writing. Ironically,
for Christians to attack Pullman and threaten him with boycotts or to
label him as "evil" only serves to validate the very things he has
written so creatively against. As Larry Shallenberger expressed on his
blog, "the church's response validates Pullman's critique that the
church suppresses critical thought." Our treatment of Pullman, as a
person, can either help to address his negative opinions of the
Church, or reaffirm them. I fear he is less likely to come to Christ
by the way those who bear His Name have responded to his writing.
Would J.K. Rowling ever accept Jesus as her Savior after the way
Christians have treated her? Her spiritual journey is evident in the
Harry Potter books, but we don't seem to allow non-Christians to be on
a journey toward Christ – they have to be either one of us, or one of
"them." But every believer, especially if saved in adulthood, is a
former "them" who finally came to Christ. We ought to be thankful for
those who show where they are on the journey – and lovingly correct
and guide them closer to the Truth. It sure is easier to witness to a
non-Christian who knows where he is spiritually, than one who does not
believe, but also doesn't care or know what he believes.
We live in a lost world. Condemning a lost world is a waste of energy,
it stands condemned already. Rather, like the Apostle Paul on Mars
Hill, we would be much better off to boldly but with grace address the
beliefs of the world and redirect people's thoughts and minds toward
the Truth. Too often we push the lost away from Christ rather than
listen to them and engage them in a way that might draw them closer. I
have yet to meet a Christian who was argued into the Family of God.
That is why Jesus said we were to be known by our love, not by our
condemnations or smart arguments or Scripture quoting. What has
Pullman heard from Jesus' followers the last several months?
If I had the opportunity to meet Philip Pullman, or if out of all the
Christian articles floating the Internet about The Golden Compass,
mine might reach Philip, I would love to say something like:
Dear Philip,
I have read your first book and went to the movie on opening night.
Your story is engaging and highly creative and it's hard to miss the
message you are trying convey. Even without the statements you are
credited with in various interviews about the books/movie and your
thoughts about the Church and Christianity in general, your story
speaks clearly for itself. While, as a Christian, I do not share your
worldview, I do share many of the criticisms of the Church that come
out in your narrative.
The Church often is controlling, judgmental, narrow-minded, and
abrasive. The love which Jesus said we are to be known by is too often
buried under our passionate zeal to protect ourselves and fight
against what we deem a threat to our belief system. I fear as a result
of writing these books and producing this film you have only
experienced more of the ugly side of Jesus' followers than His love. I
say that to our shame and for what it's worth, I apologize. That is
not how Jesus would have treated you – and we have perhaps missed our
opportunity to show you how Jesus truly desires us to be. But therein
lies the problem. The Church is made up of people – and none of us are
perfect. I've often quipped, 'If you find the perfect church, don't
join it – you'll ruin it!"
I want you to know that your criticisms of the Church are often valid
– it too often ceases to be God's institution and too quickly becomes
an institution that reflects more of man's nature than God's. That is
why there was a Reformation hundreds of years ago, and why since then
there have continued to be countless splits and reformations forming
countless denominations and even lately "non-denominational
denominations." As you have clearly discovered, the church is flawed
and broken – but please understand – it is not because God is flawed,
but because we are. Religion, as you have reportedly stated, is
dangerous and destructive. Religion by itself only organizes and
institutionalizes the real core issue, man is broken and needs
redemption. It is not any religion that redeems mankind, it is only a
genuine relationship with God that can repair the brokenness that
exists in each and every one of us.
Thank you for drawing attention to the weaknesses of the Church. It is
my prayer for you that in time you will be able to see past the
humanness of the church and see the God who is perfect; the God who is
the opposite of everything you have so eloquently spoken against.
Ironically, our world is in the mess it is in precisely because God
isn't controlling. He has given us genuine free will – and waits
patiently for those who will exercise that free will to seek Him. In
the world of your books God is not truly removed – the need for Him is
only multiplied for each parallel universe that could exist. And just
as the Magestarium sought to shut down free thinkers and critical
thoughts, I fear our real world church has done the same to you. And
for that, I am sorry.
I wish you well on your spiritual journey and hope that those of us
who claim to have found the Truth aren't the very ones who cause you
to stumble on your way to God. Please forgive us, and seek God. The
Church needs more pioneers like you who show us just how ugly we look
when we fail to reflect the grace and patience of the one who saw past
our flaws to redeem us.
Sincerely,
Karl Bastian
Pullman may never read my letter, but I hope that in our day-to-day
encounters with the lost we might find ourselves less likely to fight
and more likely to love, listen and gently engage in a dialogue about
Truth. God gave the ability to think critically to all mankind, not
just believers. Let's not rob non-Christians of the ability to think
critically with us – it is part of their journey, and an invitation to
us to listen and consider as well. Not only will we have a better
chance at reaching the lost, but if what we call Truth, truly is –
then our faith will only be made stronger in the process. Otherwise,
we deserve the label of the Magestarium, blind defenders of a system
rather than Truth.
I look forward to the next time our lost world comes out with a book
or movie that shows us what their real questions are – because God's
Word has the answers they seek.
But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to
give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the
hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect. - 1 Peter
3:15
Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every
opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned
with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. - Colossians
4:5-6
**********************************************************************
A-friggen-men, Karl.
In a nutshell, there is a web-uproar amongst Christians about the new movie, The Golden Compass. If you haven't received one of these "warning emails", then you live under a rock. I've received a million. The author of The Golden Compass has some issues with God and Christianity and Christians ~~ oh, and CS Lewis. Millions are rallying to boycott the movie and "protect" our children. In the midst of this internet furor (God bless the web!), Karl Bastian, the "Kidologist", writes this beautiful and eloquent response:
(Title: A Golden Opportunity and an Open Letter to Philip Pullman
Author/Source: Karl Bastian, the Kidologist
Topic: Thoughts on The Golden Compass
Summary: Commentary on how Christians should approach Philip Pullman's
The Golden Compass.)
A Golden Opportunity and an Open Letter to Philip Pullman
"Here we go again," was my first thought when I got my first (of many)
e-mails warning me about the latest assault on Christianity in the
form of a major motion picture based on a trilogy of children's books
written by a professing atheist. The Golden Compass became almost an
obsession to parents and children's leaders across the nation as blogs
and church bulletins were filled with warnings against this "threat"
to our children.
The author, Philip Pullman, seemed pleased by the uproar and fueled
the debate himself with his own anti-Christian, anti-religious,
anti-God, and anti-C.S. Lewis comments. Unlike J.K. Rowling's Harry
Potter, whose message may have been harmful or dangerous to an
unparented child, but was not written for that purpose, Pullman
practically boasted his anti-Christian agenda. And so the e-mails and
blogosphere erupted in a frenzied panic to fight the message of this
upcoming film. (Remember The DaVinci Code?)
I'm all for this wave of helpful communication. Well crafted reviews
have been written both by Christian and secular reviewers (Focus on
the Family and TIME Magazine). We hosted a lengthy forum discussion on
the topic here at Kidology (as well as a practical movie review) with
good spirited debate about how serious the threat may be, and shared
resources to put into the hands of concerned parents. I shared my own
thoughts on the movie there – echoing many of the concerns that were
confirmed in my mind when I read the first book and viewed the film
for myself on opening night. Some will not agree with my conclusions,
and that's fine. Debate is one of the realities that makes our freedom
in America such a blessing, and the dialogue of ideas within online
communities one of the best applications of the Internet. Bring it on!
We all benefit from sharing and then being sharpened as others
challenge our thinking. But in the midst of the debate do we miss a
broader opportunity?
As often happens when the world infringes our assumption that everyone
ought to be Christian – Christians turn on each other and miss a
golden opportunity to get a glimpse into the hearts and minds of those
we are trying to reach. I find it tragic that when the world shows us
its hand, often through entertainment and literature that contradicts
the Truth we hold so dear – we show ours – and all too often it isn't
the nail-scared hands of mercy the world sees. Instead, they see just
how judgmental and self-righteous we can be and watch (sometimes with
surprise, other times with delight) as we in-fight over something that
isn't ours to begin with. Some embrace, some damn, while the rest
nitpick over every shade in-between. And then we wonder why so many
lost souls have no interest in joining our ranks! In our rush to
"protect the children" we miss out on our other calling – to reach a
lost world for Christ.
I am often surprised at the shock and awe the Church displays when
non-Christians produce something, well, um, non-Christian. All art,
literature and entertainment flows out of worldview. Some admit it,
others deny it, a few others are simply ignorant of it – but one
cannot help but produce out of the worldview one holds. It is
impossible to create without reflecting one's view of life, humanity
and even God. Those who would deny their worldview influenced their
work must look at why they need to insist such – an internal struggle
against their own convictions is usually at the root. From J.R.
Tolkien to C.S. Lewis to George Lucas to J.K. Rowling and now Philip
Pullman, authors have put their views of life and humanity on record
for readers to consider as well as enjoy.
I did not have to thoughtfully and intently incorporate my worldview
into my novel, The Order of the Ancient. The entire concept of my
novel and motivation to write it flowed out of what I think about the
world, where it is heading and the message I think needs to be
communicated in this world, today. This was not a conspiracy – it was
not sneaky – it is simply why authors write books. Likewise, it was
not a plot to brainwash children that inspired Pullman – it was a
reaction against something he found destructive (in this case the
Church) and by a message he wanted to get out.
It was a message that found a receptive audience – a point often
missed as we attack Pullman but give his thousands of readers a free
pass as though they were mere victims and not recommending the book to
others, giving it awards, or resonating with what they read enough to
buy Book 2 and 3. While we may wish to protect our children from
Pullman's message, it is a message we need to hear and understand, if
we are to ever reach him or the thousands of others who resonate with
what they read in his books. They would not be popular or the
recipient of awards if they did not echo themes that many others
believe and share.
Would I let my son see this movie or read the books? No. That is not a
passionate red-faced, panic-stricken, fuming paranoid "no," just
simply "no" because there are far better things for him to be reading
and viewing. Of the finite number of books he can read during his
childhood, I see no benefit to him reading these. If my son were older
and expressed an interest, or if his school required it, then I'd
probably allow it, but I would read it with him and use it as an
opportunity to talk about the inner struggles of lost people. Teaching
my son to think critically is as important as telling him what to
believe.
Pullman's books and theatrical release reveal much about what the
author, and in turn, his readers, believe about God and the Church we
believe He has established here on Earth. Condemning the books does
little to address the issues that inspired their writing. Ironically,
for Christians to attack Pullman and threaten him with boycotts or to
label him as "evil" only serves to validate the very things he has
written so creatively against. As Larry Shallenberger expressed on his
blog, "the church's response validates Pullman's critique that the
church suppresses critical thought." Our treatment of Pullman, as a
person, can either help to address his negative opinions of the
Church, or reaffirm them. I fear he is less likely to come to Christ
by the way those who bear His Name have responded to his writing.
Would J.K. Rowling ever accept Jesus as her Savior after the way
Christians have treated her? Her spiritual journey is evident in the
Harry Potter books, but we don't seem to allow non-Christians to be on
a journey toward Christ – they have to be either one of us, or one of
"them." But every believer, especially if saved in adulthood, is a
former "them" who finally came to Christ. We ought to be thankful for
those who show where they are on the journey – and lovingly correct
and guide them closer to the Truth. It sure is easier to witness to a
non-Christian who knows where he is spiritually, than one who does not
believe, but also doesn't care or know what he believes.
We live in a lost world. Condemning a lost world is a waste of energy,
it stands condemned already. Rather, like the Apostle Paul on Mars
Hill, we would be much better off to boldly but with grace address the
beliefs of the world and redirect people's thoughts and minds toward
the Truth. Too often we push the lost away from Christ rather than
listen to them and engage them in a way that might draw them closer. I
have yet to meet a Christian who was argued into the Family of God.
That is why Jesus said we were to be known by our love, not by our
condemnations or smart arguments or Scripture quoting. What has
Pullman heard from Jesus' followers the last several months?
If I had the opportunity to meet Philip Pullman, or if out of all the
Christian articles floating the Internet about The Golden Compass,
mine might reach Philip, I would love to say something like:
Dear Philip,
I have read your first book and went to the movie on opening night.
Your story is engaging and highly creative and it's hard to miss the
message you are trying convey. Even without the statements you are
credited with in various interviews about the books/movie and your
thoughts about the Church and Christianity in general, your story
speaks clearly for itself. While, as a Christian, I do not share your
worldview, I do share many of the criticisms of the Church that come
out in your narrative.
The Church often is controlling, judgmental, narrow-minded, and
abrasive. The love which Jesus said we are to be known by is too often
buried under our passionate zeal to protect ourselves and fight
against what we deem a threat to our belief system. I fear as a result
of writing these books and producing this film you have only
experienced more of the ugly side of Jesus' followers than His love. I
say that to our shame and for what it's worth, I apologize. That is
not how Jesus would have treated you – and we have perhaps missed our
opportunity to show you how Jesus truly desires us to be. But therein
lies the problem. The Church is made up of people – and none of us are
perfect. I've often quipped, 'If you find the perfect church, don't
join it – you'll ruin it!"
I want you to know that your criticisms of the Church are often valid
– it too often ceases to be God's institution and too quickly becomes
an institution that reflects more of man's nature than God's. That is
why there was a Reformation hundreds of years ago, and why since then
there have continued to be countless splits and reformations forming
countless denominations and even lately "non-denominational
denominations." As you have clearly discovered, the church is flawed
and broken – but please understand – it is not because God is flawed,
but because we are. Religion, as you have reportedly stated, is
dangerous and destructive. Religion by itself only organizes and
institutionalizes the real core issue, man is broken and needs
redemption. It is not any religion that redeems mankind, it is only a
genuine relationship with God that can repair the brokenness that
exists in each and every one of us.
Thank you for drawing attention to the weaknesses of the Church. It is
my prayer for you that in time you will be able to see past the
humanness of the church and see the God who is perfect; the God who is
the opposite of everything you have so eloquently spoken against.
Ironically, our world is in the mess it is in precisely because God
isn't controlling. He has given us genuine free will – and waits
patiently for those who will exercise that free will to seek Him. In
the world of your books God is not truly removed – the need for Him is
only multiplied for each parallel universe that could exist. And just
as the Magestarium sought to shut down free thinkers and critical
thoughts, I fear our real world church has done the same to you. And
for that, I am sorry.
I wish you well on your spiritual journey and hope that those of us
who claim to have found the Truth aren't the very ones who cause you
to stumble on your way to God. Please forgive us, and seek God. The
Church needs more pioneers like you who show us just how ugly we look
when we fail to reflect the grace and patience of the one who saw past
our flaws to redeem us.
Sincerely,
Karl Bastian
Pullman may never read my letter, but I hope that in our day-to-day
encounters with the lost we might find ourselves less likely to fight
and more likely to love, listen and gently engage in a dialogue about
Truth. God gave the ability to think critically to all mankind, not
just believers. Let's not rob non-Christians of the ability to think
critically with us – it is part of their journey, and an invitation to
us to listen and consider as well. Not only will we have a better
chance at reaching the lost, but if what we call Truth, truly is –
then our faith will only be made stronger in the process. Otherwise,
we deserve the label of the Magestarium, blind defenders of a system
rather than Truth.
I look forward to the next time our lost world comes out with a book
or movie that shows us what their real questions are – because God's
Word has the answers they seek.
But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to
give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the
hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect. - 1 Peter
3:15
Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every
opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned
with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. - Colossians
4:5-6
**********************************************************************
A-friggen-men, Karl.
December 12, 2007
my husband
My husband and I played around with Photo Booth on my new Mac laptop tonight. Can I just say, I love my husband more than life itself. We've been friends most of our lives, and he has always been the guy that will just sit around with someone he loves and do goofy stuff like this. I love that.
acceptance
You never know who might be behind the words out here in cyberspace. You never know why a person might be writing the things she or he is writing. You never know what your reaction may, or may not give to the writer.
This blurb is from an online article from a Denver news station. The story is about the gunman in the two shootings that happened in Colorado this past Sunday. Istre is the moderator of an online forum where Murray, the gunman, appears to have been a frequent contributor. Ultimately, this troubled young man did end of taking lives....but who knows how many more he would have taken how he not found acceptance amongst this anonymous online group:
"My reaction was disbelief, but then almost horror," Istre said of Murray's violence. "This guy was posting on our forums, and we are a support group out to help people, to try to get them to calm their fears and get them into a productive life. And here we are conversing with a dude who was a killer."
Ultimately, Istre said he believes the forum helped the 24-year-old man, and he doesn't know what more the group could have done to prevent the bloodshed.
"My gut instinct is that he was coming on our forums and posting all this stuff to provoke a negative reaction to where he'd be rejected again, so he can have another trophy, to say, 'I've been rejected by another organization, so here is my chance to strike back at the world.'
"I think in our organization he discovered an acceptance he probably never ran into."
This blurb is from an online article from a Denver news station. The story is about the gunman in the two shootings that happened in Colorado this past Sunday. Istre is the moderator of an online forum where Murray, the gunman, appears to have been a frequent contributor. Ultimately, this troubled young man did end of taking lives....but who knows how many more he would have taken how he not found acceptance amongst this anonymous online group:
"My reaction was disbelief, but then almost horror," Istre said of Murray's violence. "This guy was posting on our forums, and we are a support group out to help people, to try to get them to calm their fears and get them into a productive life. And here we are conversing with a dude who was a killer."
Ultimately, Istre said he believes the forum helped the 24-year-old man, and he doesn't know what more the group could have done to prevent the bloodshed.
"My gut instinct is that he was coming on our forums and posting all this stuff to provoke a negative reaction to where he'd be rejected again, so he can have another trophy, to say, 'I've been rejected by another organization, so here is my chance to strike back at the world.'
"I think in our organization he discovered an acceptance he probably never ran into."
November 19, 2007
I remember when my best friend, Shauna, first got her cancer diagnosis. She went to Costco. As she roamed around the store, she looked at people, and I mean really looked at them ~ not past them, not through them, but at them. If they made eye contact with her, she smiled at them ~ not the smile of a passerby, not the smile of someone whose gaze you may have uncomfortably stumbled upon, but a real, genuine smile - a smile that said, "Hello. You are a child of God. I see you."
She told me later that night that as she looked at people, rather than past them or through them, she just kept thinking, "I wonder what happened in their world today,". She realized that, from all appearances, she just looked like a normal person doing her shopping at Costco after work. Little did anyone who saw her that night know that she'd just gotten news that was completely life-changing and, ultimately, life-taking. She just looked like she was shopping.
How many people do I encounter everyday that I assume are just shopping, or just working, or just reading, or just walking, or just....or just? How many people do I look right past or, worse yet, right through? How many of them needed me to smile the "I see you - you are a child of God" smile? How many times have I needed the same in return?
Shauna frequented Costco, both pre-cancer and post-cancer, but as the disease and treatments progressed, she no longer appeared to be "just doing her shopping after work". The disease, and its pain and its agony, were evident. She got a lot of smiles then - some genuine, some pretty fake, all very much aware. That was hard for her, but, bless her heart, she always gave that genuine, "I see you - you are a child of God" smile to them in return.
I want to give that smile. I need that smile in return. May we all try to be more aware of everyone we come in contact with.
She told me later that night that as she looked at people, rather than past them or through them, she just kept thinking, "I wonder what happened in their world today,". She realized that, from all appearances, she just looked like a normal person doing her shopping at Costco after work. Little did anyone who saw her that night know that she'd just gotten news that was completely life-changing and, ultimately, life-taking. She just looked like she was shopping.
How many people do I encounter everyday that I assume are just shopping, or just working, or just reading, or just walking, or just....or just? How many people do I look right past or, worse yet, right through? How many of them needed me to smile the "I see you - you are a child of God" smile? How many times have I needed the same in return?
Shauna frequented Costco, both pre-cancer and post-cancer, but as the disease and treatments progressed, she no longer appeared to be "just doing her shopping after work". The disease, and its pain and its agony, were evident. She got a lot of smiles then - some genuine, some pretty fake, all very much aware. That was hard for her, but, bless her heart, she always gave that genuine, "I see you - you are a child of God" smile to them in return.
I want to give that smile. I need that smile in return. May we all try to be more aware of everyone we come in contact with.
November 18, 2007
I am a part of this great online community of faith called "Epinoia Cafe" (www.epinoiacafe.com). Today, I found this posted there by a member of our online community that I only know by name, but hope to meet face-to-face one day soon. Her name is Cat and here is what she posted:
by Joan Chittister (30goodminutes.com):
Struggle changes us; it grows us up. It takes the dew off the rose and the gilt off the silver. It turns the fantasies of life into reality. But struggle does more than that. Struggle cultivates in us the kind of depth that comes from knowing pain as well as pleasure. After that we develop a vision in life as well as expectations. We have insight now as well as experience. We acquire understanding as well as endurance. We grow in compassion for others as well as we grow into character ourselves. Indeed, struggle not only transforms us, it makes us transforming as well.
Once we have truly struggled ourselves with something that stretches the elastic of the spirit, we are able to walk with others in their struggles, too…. When we know the meaning of what it is to struggle with something in life we have finally become human.
There are many parts of this that I completely resonate with, and many words that I hope to now associate with "struggle" - cultivate, depth, develop, vision, insight, experience, understanding, endurance, compassion, character, and transformation. But my favorite phrase from this passage would have to be "elastic of the spirit". I know in my own life, I often forget that my spirit truly is elastic. It has the ability to stretch, bounce back, stretch again, grow, and stretch some more.
I'm stretching right now. It isn't easy - at all. It isn't really even a whole lot of fun. But, easy and fun or not, it is still happening. And maybe that's ok.
by Joan Chittister (30goodminutes.com):
Struggle changes us; it grows us up. It takes the dew off the rose and the gilt off the silver. It turns the fantasies of life into reality. But struggle does more than that. Struggle cultivates in us the kind of depth that comes from knowing pain as well as pleasure. After that we develop a vision in life as well as expectations. We have insight now as well as experience. We acquire understanding as well as endurance. We grow in compassion for others as well as we grow into character ourselves. Indeed, struggle not only transforms us, it makes us transforming as well.
Once we have truly struggled ourselves with something that stretches the elastic of the spirit, we are able to walk with others in their struggles, too…. When we know the meaning of what it is to struggle with something in life we have finally become human.
There are many parts of this that I completely resonate with, and many words that I hope to now associate with "struggle" - cultivate, depth, develop, vision, insight, experience, understanding, endurance, compassion, character, and transformation. But my favorite phrase from this passage would have to be "elastic of the spirit". I know in my own life, I often forget that my spirit truly is elastic. It has the ability to stretch, bounce back, stretch again, grow, and stretch some more.
I'm stretching right now. It isn't easy - at all. It isn't really even a whole lot of fun. But, easy and fun or not, it is still happening. And maybe that's ok.
November 14, 2007
September 25, 2007
black and white....have we made any progress at all?
I could not have expressed my feelings on this subject any better.....
http://news.yahoo.com/s/csm/20070925/cm_csm/yluqman;_ylt=AhQKyeCZpK6oTZr.wcurpGTEHX0V
http://news.yahoo.com/s/csm/20070925/cm_csm/yluqman;_ylt=AhQKyeCZpK6oTZr.wcurpGTEHX0V
September 16, 2007
the times they are a'changin'....
Two weeks from today is my last day in my current job. But it isn't just a job - it is a way of life. It is my home. It is my family. We live here. We play here. We work here. Our community is here. Our life is here. And we are leaving...scary stuff, but exciting too.
Four years (five summers) ago, I could have never imagined the blessings that I would be leaving Camp Arrah Wanna with - the people who, now, are such vital and integral parts of my very existence...and I didn't even know half of them existed just a few short years ago. How is that possible?
Prior to taking this position, 90% of my work experience had been directly with children. This job is primarily working with adults - for kids, but with adults. I've learned so much. So much, that I am returning to work with children!! :-) But seriously, the skills and gifts that have been fine-tuned in me over the course of the last four years would never have come to fruition while working with kids, yet they will serve me so well as I leave this current job and move into my new one. God was preparing me all the time - God always does that.
As I look back over my time here, I feel humbled that I've been able to be a part of this ministry. Lives have changed, right before my eyes, and I am so privileged to have been able to witness those transformations.
The people that this place brought to me as staff and clients, but who are now friends and family.....well, all I can to that is just "wow". How is it that I didn't even know these folks four years ago, and now I can't live without them? God is amazing that way.
Moving is weird - "they" say it more stressful than death or divorce. As I look around at all my boxes and my world in such disarray, I can believe it. (I've never been dead, but I have divorced twice, so I can speak with some authority about what "they" say!). My girls aren't excited about changing schools. My husband is looking for a job in that area. I am returning to a field I LOVE LOVE LOVE, but have been out out out of for several years now.
More importantly, I am returning to doing ministry in a church. For four years, my "church" has been the mountains, trees, river and hills of camp. Not that I don't love my current church home - - I just don't get there a lot because running a camp is more than a full time job. But now, I will be back in the swing of the traditional church. I am excited. I am a little bit nervous too.
My views and believes about "church" are so different than they were when I came here. I am excited to see what God does with those, but I am curious about how quickly I will acclimate to that life again. I don't really want to acclimate. I love being "out of the box". I look forward to the challenge of doing vital, relevant, applicable, loving ministry both within the four walls of the church building and outside of them as well (and NOT necessarily in that order!).
God's been laying the groundwork in me for years now - I am ready to embrace wherever it is that S/He is taking me now!
The times are changing...I am committed to the ride!
Four years (five summers) ago, I could have never imagined the blessings that I would be leaving Camp Arrah Wanna with - the people who, now, are such vital and integral parts of my very existence...and I didn't even know half of them existed just a few short years ago. How is that possible?
Prior to taking this position, 90% of my work experience had been directly with children. This job is primarily working with adults - for kids, but with adults. I've learned so much. So much, that I am returning to work with children!! :-) But seriously, the skills and gifts that have been fine-tuned in me over the course of the last four years would never have come to fruition while working with kids, yet they will serve me so well as I leave this current job and move into my new one. God was preparing me all the time - God always does that.
As I look back over my time here, I feel humbled that I've been able to be a part of this ministry. Lives have changed, right before my eyes, and I am so privileged to have been able to witness those transformations.
The people that this place brought to me as staff and clients, but who are now friends and family.....well, all I can to that is just "wow". How is it that I didn't even know these folks four years ago, and now I can't live without them? God is amazing that way.
Moving is weird - "they" say it more stressful than death or divorce. As I look around at all my boxes and my world in such disarray, I can believe it. (I've never been dead, but I have divorced twice, so I can speak with some authority about what "they" say!). My girls aren't excited about changing schools. My husband is looking for a job in that area. I am returning to a field I LOVE LOVE LOVE, but have been out out out of for several years now.
More importantly, I am returning to doing ministry in a church. For four years, my "church" has been the mountains, trees, river and hills of camp. Not that I don't love my current church home - - I just don't get there a lot because running a camp is more than a full time job. But now, I will be back in the swing of the traditional church. I am excited. I am a little bit nervous too.
My views and believes about "church" are so different than they were when I came here. I am excited to see what God does with those, but I am curious about how quickly I will acclimate to that life again. I don't really want to acclimate. I love being "out of the box". I look forward to the challenge of doing vital, relevant, applicable, loving ministry both within the four walls of the church building and outside of them as well (and NOT necessarily in that order!).
God's been laying the groundwork in me for years now - I am ready to embrace wherever it is that S/He is taking me now!
The times are changing...I am committed to the ride!
July 11, 2007
i remember walking...
MDA camp is here this week at the camp I run. There are about 105 kids with varying degrees of muscular dystrophy here as campers, along with about 150 leaders, counselors, nurses, and other staff and volunteers, in addition to my camp staff. It is a great week - our favorite as it is really a time for us, as camp staff, to demonstrate our faith as opposed to talking about it. We are here to serve the campers and their folks, and we really enjoy the opportunities we have to interact with all of them, and learn a bit about their journeys. It is also a week that very quickly puts into perspective everything in our individual personal lives. Just the sight of little kids, wheeling around our grounds in their wheelchairs and scooters, getting the chance to be a regular ol' kid (at least for a week), rather than a kid with a degenerative disease, is a very cool thing. My worst day is probably better than their best, and that is something that I can easily lose sight of, until a week like this week comes around.
Just watching this one little guy pet and play with my dog is a treat in itself, but there are a million other moments that take my breath away during this particular camp. I heard a story today that I am going to try my best to remember whenever something in my world has me down, or upset, or worried, or pissed off. Margaret, an MDA leader (and, over the course of the last several years, my friend) was conversing at one point with a (then) about 19 year old male camper in a wheelchair. She asked him if he'd always been in the chair, or if he had ever been able to walk. He replied, "Yeh, I remember walking ~~ it was fun." I can't even begin to tell you the number of times that I have been ticked off that I had to walk somewhere on this 132 acre property for some reason that didn't fly well with me at any given moment, yet here is this young man for whom walking is something "fun" he can only remember doing.
I remember years and years ago I wrote a newsletter article for the daycare center I was serving as the director for. It was right after Christmas, and my three older children were still fairly young ~~ maybe 5, 7, and 9, or thereabouts. I was writing about Christmas morning and the sibling fight that had transpired because of a certain-colored something that someone got in his stocking that another someone had wanted in hers, rather than the color that she got. I remember the tag line of that article was "I want the green one!", and my point was how I would one day welcome the sound "I want the green one!" some Christmas morning when I wake up with no children in my home. I felt similarly today when Margaret relayed that story to me.
There are so many tiny (and even not-so-tiny) miracles that I take for granted every single day. Just the fact that I wake up each morning, and my heart is still beating, and my lungs still remember how to fill and empty with air, is a miracle. Five healthy, safe, smart, successful, kind, and beautiful children is a miracle. People who know me as I really am and love me not only despite that, but because of it - that is a miracle. There are so many butterflies around camp this summer, in so many bright and beautiful colors - that is a miracle. I not only remember walking, but I get to do it - everyday, all day long. There are 105 kids in my camp tonight that would consider that a miracle. It is high time I begin to do that as well.
I remember walking all over camp today - down by the river, out to the meadow, down to the lodge for meals, out to the field to watch the games, and down to the kitchen just now, late at night, for Amie's maiden voyage into fresh-from-scratch cinnamon rolls. Yeh, I remember walking today ~~ it was fun.
Just watching this one little guy pet and play with my dog is a treat in itself, but there are a million other moments that take my breath away during this particular camp. I heard a story today that I am going to try my best to remember whenever something in my world has me down, or upset, or worried, or pissed off. Margaret, an MDA leader (and, over the course of the last several years, my friend) was conversing at one point with a (then) about 19 year old male camper in a wheelchair. She asked him if he'd always been in the chair, or if he had ever been able to walk. He replied, "Yeh, I remember walking ~~ it was fun." I can't even begin to tell you the number of times that I have been ticked off that I had to walk somewhere on this 132 acre property for some reason that didn't fly well with me at any given moment, yet here is this young man for whom walking is something "fun" he can only remember doing.
I remember years and years ago I wrote a newsletter article for the daycare center I was serving as the director for. It was right after Christmas, and my three older children were still fairly young ~~ maybe 5, 7, and 9, or thereabouts. I was writing about Christmas morning and the sibling fight that had transpired because of a certain-colored something that someone got in his stocking that another someone had wanted in hers, rather than the color that she got. I remember the tag line of that article was "I want the green one!", and my point was how I would one day welcome the sound "I want the green one!" some Christmas morning when I wake up with no children in my home. I felt similarly today when Margaret relayed that story to me.
There are so many tiny (and even not-so-tiny) miracles that I take for granted every single day. Just the fact that I wake up each morning, and my heart is still beating, and my lungs still remember how to fill and empty with air, is a miracle. Five healthy, safe, smart, successful, kind, and beautiful children is a miracle. People who know me as I really am and love me not only despite that, but because of it - that is a miracle. There are so many butterflies around camp this summer, in so many bright and beautiful colors - that is a miracle. I not only remember walking, but I get to do it - everyday, all day long. There are 105 kids in my camp tonight that would consider that a miracle. It is high time I begin to do that as well.
I remember walking all over camp today - down by the river, out to the meadow, down to the lodge for meals, out to the field to watch the games, and down to the kitchen just now, late at night, for Amie's maiden voyage into fresh-from-scratch cinnamon rolls. Yeh, I remember walking today ~~ it was fun.
June 24, 2007
warm, but uncomfortable
A summer rain is falling today. Its warm enough to be outside, but wet enough that its uncomfortable. This summer is shaping up to be a lot like that for me.
I love it when summer arrives, and my staff kids come "home", and camp becomes alive again with the sights, sounds, and smells of summertime.....but this is my last summer with "my" kids, my last here at this beautiful place. Warm, but uncomfortable.
My girls piled into their dad's car this morning for a three week trip down to Medford. I can get so much accomplished while they are away, especially in their bedrooms with an impending move looming in our future....but I miss them so much when they are away, and this morning, we were all teary when they left. Warm, but uncomfortable.
This job and this place have meant so much to me at so many different times and stages of my life. I know it is time to move on, yet I also know God brought me here four years ago because it was what I needed. And I am moving on from here because I need to, and camp needs me to...but I will miss it so much, and coming back in the future will never feel the same as coming back in the past did. It may even feel better - who knows?! - but it won't the same. Warm, but uncomfortable.
My life is transitioning in a lot of ways right now. Some I am embracing - some I am not. All, no matter how they turn out, will mold me into someone new, someone different, someone primed and ready (at best) for life's next chapters. Exciting and scary. Warm, but uncomfortable.
The summer rain continues to drizzle outside of sliding door. I can feel the warmth of the day through the glass. Maybe I should take a little walk outside, just to test the "uncomfortableness" of the rain ~~ and of life.
I love it when summer arrives, and my staff kids come "home", and camp becomes alive again with the sights, sounds, and smells of summertime.....but this is my last summer with "my" kids, my last here at this beautiful place. Warm, but uncomfortable.
My girls piled into their dad's car this morning for a three week trip down to Medford. I can get so much accomplished while they are away, especially in their bedrooms with an impending move looming in our future....but I miss them so much when they are away, and this morning, we were all teary when they left. Warm, but uncomfortable.
This job and this place have meant so much to me at so many different times and stages of my life. I know it is time to move on, yet I also know God brought me here four years ago because it was what I needed. And I am moving on from here because I need to, and camp needs me to...but I will miss it so much, and coming back in the future will never feel the same as coming back in the past did. It may even feel better - who knows?! - but it won't the same. Warm, but uncomfortable.
My life is transitioning in a lot of ways right now. Some I am embracing - some I am not. All, no matter how they turn out, will mold me into someone new, someone different, someone primed and ready (at best) for life's next chapters. Exciting and scary. Warm, but uncomfortable.
The summer rain continues to drizzle outside of sliding door. I can feel the warmth of the day through the glass. Maybe I should take a little walk outside, just to test the "uncomfortableness" of the rain ~~ and of life.
May 15, 2007
on my knees
I had a relatively crappy day today - its bound to happen, even to a Pollyanna like me. But my crappy day, a recent "devotional thought" I was asked to share with my board, and a really cool online group I am a part of (www.epinoiacafe.com) got me to thinking tonight about prayer, and how it relates to crappy days.
There's a lot going on in my world right now. Job transitions are forthcoming, there's an impending move, decisions to be made about where is the "right" place for us to be living and raising the girls....there's just a lot going on. That in itself probaby leaves me a bit more open and prone to a certain level of anxiousness and anxiety, but I am working really hard right now to not have those stressors take me away from a relatively new renewal to my commitment to prayer.
My board met last week (or maybe it was two weeks ago now) and since it was more-than-likely my last meeting with them, our chairperson asked me to bring the opening devotional thought. Rather than "preaching", I decided to just share openly from my heart what it has meant to me to share in work and ministry with them, through this beautiful place, for the last four years. As I retold the story of being called here, I was reminded of (and shared with them) God's faithfulness to my plea for a "no-brainer" after I fell on my knees one night, in literal, prone, and ultimate defeat, heartache, and brokenness. I wondered aloud with my friends and colleagues why I don't get on my knees more when praying to God.
I read tonight on Epinoia that perhaps prayer is more a lifestyle than a spiritual discipline. This reminds me of Rick Warren's thoughts on worship (a lifestyle vs. something we come to, and / or "do" on Sunday mornings). It also reminded me of something I heard when I was very young - that every conversation we have should be thought of as a conversation with (or prayer to) God. If God is really with us all the time, then God is certainly privvy to everything we do and say, and when we think about it that way, what a difference there could be in what really does come out of our mouths, both directly and indirectly, towards God - in prayer, if you will.
My day was tough enough today that I am pondering getting back on my knees when I am finished writing this, although my right knee is hurting so much right now (another reason I feel a bit more prone to being a bit blue right now...), I am not sure that is the best idea I've had. Maybe I should get on my knees in theory tonight, and just remind myself in a few moments of silent prayer that I am really not alone, that God really has a lot this covered, and that, either because of me or in spite of me, God's plans for me, my family, and our life together, will ultimately prevail.
There's a lot going on in my world right now. Job transitions are forthcoming, there's an impending move, decisions to be made about where is the "right" place for us to be living and raising the girls....there's just a lot going on. That in itself probaby leaves me a bit more open and prone to a certain level of anxiousness and anxiety, but I am working really hard right now to not have those stressors take me away from a relatively new renewal to my commitment to prayer.
My board met last week (or maybe it was two weeks ago now) and since it was more-than-likely my last meeting with them, our chairperson asked me to bring the opening devotional thought. Rather than "preaching", I decided to just share openly from my heart what it has meant to me to share in work and ministry with them, through this beautiful place, for the last four years. As I retold the story of being called here, I was reminded of (and shared with them) God's faithfulness to my plea for a "no-brainer" after I fell on my knees one night, in literal, prone, and ultimate defeat, heartache, and brokenness. I wondered aloud with my friends and colleagues why I don't get on my knees more when praying to God.
I read tonight on Epinoia that perhaps prayer is more a lifestyle than a spiritual discipline. This reminds me of Rick Warren's thoughts on worship (a lifestyle vs. something we come to, and / or "do" on Sunday mornings). It also reminded me of something I heard when I was very young - that every conversation we have should be thought of as a conversation with (or prayer to) God. If God is really with us all the time, then God is certainly privvy to everything we do and say, and when we think about it that way, what a difference there could be in what really does come out of our mouths, both directly and indirectly, towards God - in prayer, if you will.
My day was tough enough today that I am pondering getting back on my knees when I am finished writing this, although my right knee is hurting so much right now (another reason I feel a bit more prone to being a bit blue right now...), I am not sure that is the best idea I've had. Maybe I should get on my knees in theory tonight, and just remind myself in a few moments of silent prayer that I am really not alone, that God really has a lot this covered, and that, either because of me or in spite of me, God's plans for me, my family, and our life together, will ultimately prevail.
May 6, 2007
a beautiful world
I saw a couple get engaged today, and I've pretty much been weepy ever since.
I took my girls to the zoo after church - we hadn't been in a long time (since Christmas, I think) and we were having just a terrific time checking out what's new (a HUGE area devoted to bears that looks a lot like our current backyard!), visiting old favorites (tree kangaroos for Naomi, otters for Nattie, and just about everything else for me), and just enjoying each other's company. As we were stopped in front an exhibit in the primate house, Naomi began to, without uttering a word, tap me on the shoulder. I turned to face her, and she pointed over to another exhibit - an open air one about ten feet away - where I saw a young man on his knee, holding up a ring while a young woman was tearfully looking down at him, her hand over her mouth in shock and surprise. We waited (along with only one other woman nearby who realized what was happening) until it was obvious that the young woman had said yes, and then, led by Naomi, we all began to applaud. I started to cry, and haven't really been able to reel the tears in since then.
I remember so clearly the night my husband proposed to me - it was just about as perfect of a moment as I have ever had in my life. My husband, like this young man today, got down on one knee, completely out of the blue as far as I was concerned, and pulled a lovely white ring box out of his pocket. We were sitting on a bench in the gardens outside of the historic Sellwood church in northeast Portland. The sun was setting in the background. Boats were meandering along the Willamette River below us, and the warm, late Spring breeze was blowing the precious few clouds that were in the sky. I remember thinking that all of the dreams of love, romance, and happily ever after I had ever had as a young (and, honestly, a not-so-young) girl were on the brink of coming true...and all of that came flooding back to me today as I watched, through my tears, these young lovebirds begin the next chapter of their very own "happily ever after". I felt so hopeful for them, and for life in general, at that moment. Who woulda thought - right in the middle of the monkeys no less! :-)
Max Ehmann penned (in Desiderata), "With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is stil a beautiful world." Today, I got a much-needed glimpse of that beauty, with a dream-come-true mixed right into the midst of it. How fortunate am I.....
I took my girls to the zoo after church - we hadn't been in a long time (since Christmas, I think) and we were having just a terrific time checking out what's new (a HUGE area devoted to bears that looks a lot like our current backyard!), visiting old favorites (tree kangaroos for Naomi, otters for Nattie, and just about everything else for me), and just enjoying each other's company. As we were stopped in front an exhibit in the primate house, Naomi began to, without uttering a word, tap me on the shoulder. I turned to face her, and she pointed over to another exhibit - an open air one about ten feet away - where I saw a young man on his knee, holding up a ring while a young woman was tearfully looking down at him, her hand over her mouth in shock and surprise. We waited (along with only one other woman nearby who realized what was happening) until it was obvious that the young woman had said yes, and then, led by Naomi, we all began to applaud. I started to cry, and haven't really been able to reel the tears in since then.
I remember so clearly the night my husband proposed to me - it was just about as perfect of a moment as I have ever had in my life. My husband, like this young man today, got down on one knee, completely out of the blue as far as I was concerned, and pulled a lovely white ring box out of his pocket. We were sitting on a bench in the gardens outside of the historic Sellwood church in northeast Portland. The sun was setting in the background. Boats were meandering along the Willamette River below us, and the warm, late Spring breeze was blowing the precious few clouds that were in the sky. I remember thinking that all of the dreams of love, romance, and happily ever after I had ever had as a young (and, honestly, a not-so-young) girl were on the brink of coming true...and all of that came flooding back to me today as I watched, through my tears, these young lovebirds begin the next chapter of their very own "happily ever after". I felt so hopeful for them, and for life in general, at that moment. Who woulda thought - right in the middle of the monkeys no less! :-)
Max Ehmann penned (in Desiderata), "With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is stil a beautiful world." Today, I got a much-needed glimpse of that beauty, with a dream-come-true mixed right into the midst of it. How fortunate am I.....
May 3, 2007
substance and evidence...
I am at this incredibly interesting point in my life. I've resigned from my job ~~ a very comfortable position that pays well and comes with a free house and tons of other perks ~~ to enroll in school fulltime this fall to pursue my oft-postponed Bachelors degree in Elementary Education. Not only does this decision force my family to uproot (again), but it changes our financial circumstances greatly. I'll be cutting our family income more than in half AND adding the cost of three years of fulltime higher education to our expenses. Ouch. But I'm doing it anyway.
A few short years ago, I would have never, and mean NEVER, done anything like this. I would have never asked my family (my children) to sacrifice anything for something that I wanted to do, even if that something meant the world to me. I was in college originally when I got pregnant with my first child. I dropped out to stay home to raise him, and don't regret that for a moment because I loved loved LOVED being a stay-at-home mom...but that truly was my descent into the world of "everything before me", and I often wonder what my life would have looked like had I tried then to balance me and them like I strive to now. Even as melancholy as that sounds, I truly have no regrets.
So back to right now ~~ I am employed through the summer I'm fairly sure, and I am also fairly certain that I have a home at least until the middle of June, maybe the first of July. But after that, I haven't a clue. I have no job lined up (although I've pretty much been offered two, unofficially) and I have no idea where we're going to be living, and my husband is currently out of work so I truly do have no idea how we are going to get by. But I know we are...
"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." I believe that word from Scripture (Hebrews 11:1), and I believe it is that faith that is carrying me right now. Today was hard ~~ it isn't like me to worry, and today I was just overcome with anxiety about just about anything my mind could drum up. Money, housing, jobs, healthcare, insurance, school for my kids ~ you name it, I fretted about it today. I'm still a bit uneasy tonight, which is probably why I find myself here at the computer just now. But somewhere in the thinking part of my brain is the knowledge and the belief that I have the promise of things hoped for and not seen. Once the feeling part of my brain worries itself into exhaustion tonight, I am hopeful that the thinking process kicks back in with some substance and evidence for me to cling to as I drift off to sleep.
A few short years ago, I would have never, and mean NEVER, done anything like this. I would have never asked my family (my children) to sacrifice anything for something that I wanted to do, even if that something meant the world to me. I was in college originally when I got pregnant with my first child. I dropped out to stay home to raise him, and don't regret that for a moment because I loved loved LOVED being a stay-at-home mom...but that truly was my descent into the world of "everything before me", and I often wonder what my life would have looked like had I tried then to balance me and them like I strive to now. Even as melancholy as that sounds, I truly have no regrets.
So back to right now ~~ I am employed through the summer I'm fairly sure, and I am also fairly certain that I have a home at least until the middle of June, maybe the first of July. But after that, I haven't a clue. I have no job lined up (although I've pretty much been offered two, unofficially) and I have no idea where we're going to be living, and my husband is currently out of work so I truly do have no idea how we are going to get by. But I know we are...
"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." I believe that word from Scripture (Hebrews 11:1), and I believe it is that faith that is carrying me right now. Today was hard ~~ it isn't like me to worry, and today I was just overcome with anxiety about just about anything my mind could drum up. Money, housing, jobs, healthcare, insurance, school for my kids ~ you name it, I fretted about it today. I'm still a bit uneasy tonight, which is probably why I find myself here at the computer just now. But somewhere in the thinking part of my brain is the knowledge and the belief that I have the promise of things hoped for and not seen. Once the feeling part of my brain worries itself into exhaustion tonight, I am hopeful that the thinking process kicks back in with some substance and evidence for me to cling to as I drift off to sleep.
May 2, 2007
getting older...
Both my daughter and my husband sat on my glasses last week. Now they (the glasses) sit a little bit cock-eyed on my face, and I fear that is what has been causing the headaches I've been pretty much constantly having since then. It is time for a new prescription and check up anyway, but I really don't look forward to it ~~ my eyesight seems to be the one area of my life in which I am not coping well with aging.
My hair began to gray over 12 years ago. I don't exactly remember when ~ I just remember that I was already coloring it when Naomi was born, and she is 12 now. As long as Loreal stays in business, graying hair won't bother me.
My knees have been bad for a long time (due to tilted knee caps, not age) so their increasing aches and pains, while annoying (and painful), don't really cause me to think too much about aging.
I love my birthday, so I look forward to it all year long - it never causes me any "getting older angst".
I've conceived, carried, birthed, and breastfed five kids - gravity took its toll LONG ago so, yeh, no worries there either.
"Fine lines and wrinkles" just happen. Every so often I notice a new little crinkle, but no real angst about those either. I am sure one day my grandchildren will say something to me along the lines of what Nattie said to my mom a few Halloweens ago ("You should be a witch this year, Tottee - you've already got such good wrinkles!"), but I'm not there yet ~~ with the wrinkles or the grandkids ~~ so I don't think too much about it.
I did notice something a bit unsettling with my chin a couple of weeks ago, but that probably has more to do with the ten extra pounds I seem to have found recently as opposed to my upcoming 46th birthday.
But this eyesight thing has got me a little bit down...
I've had these glasses for a few years now. I remember the appointment clearly - it was a substitute doctor doing the exam. I told him I needed to update my frames, and that I probably needed a new prescription too because it had "been awhile". I explained to him that I was far-sighted, but needed help up close, and that my left eye was much worse than my right eye (always had been). He did the exam, came back in and began to explain to me that, yes indeed I was farsighted, and, why yes, my left eye was worse than my right....BUT (uh oh) from the exam he could tell that I was "beginning" to need some help faraway as well, and that my right eye had begun to slip a bit too. He had started to explain a lense that could help me when I stopped him.
"You're getting ready to use the B word with me, aren't you?" I asked.
He was young - maybe 27 - and relatively new to the field, let alone our office. "Oh NO maam, I would NEVER say that!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide in disbelief that I would think, let alone verbalize, such a thing.
"Bifocal," I said.
He paused, momentarily relieved. "Oh, yes maam then I am, " he said, quickly adding, "But they make them without the line now you know!"
I believe my response was something along the lines of "You're d*** right they make 'em without the lines!"...and thus my journey into the world of bifocals began.
The first few weeks were awful. I needed the top part of my lense to see to walk down the stairs, but it was the bottom half that came naturally to my view when actually going down the stairs. That didn't work so well.
Then there's the fact that when I lay on my bed to watch TV, the pillows prop my head up in such a way that I have to position my glasses to rest about halfway down my nose in order to be able to see clearly. This makes me look like some cross between an old school librarian, and Mrs. Lathrop, my (back then) 80 year old high school typing teacher.
But I got used to them...and I grew dependent upon them. Just last week, I went to lunch with our Wednesday volunteers. I forgot my glasses at home and actually had to ask for help in reading the check so I knew how much to tip. This did not make me happy, although it did seem to amuse my 25 year old program director, and my 35 year old maintenance man. Glad I could help.
I am not sure what it is about my changing eyesight that has me down, especially considering that none of the way more painful, or noticeable, attributes of aging do, but it definetely bugs me. I think the only thing that would maybe bug me more is if this next appointment, we begin talking about the T word.
My hair began to gray over 12 years ago. I don't exactly remember when ~ I just remember that I was already coloring it when Naomi was born, and she is 12 now. As long as Loreal stays in business, graying hair won't bother me.
My knees have been bad for a long time (due to tilted knee caps, not age) so their increasing aches and pains, while annoying (and painful), don't really cause me to think too much about aging.
I love my birthday, so I look forward to it all year long - it never causes me any "getting older angst".
I've conceived, carried, birthed, and breastfed five kids - gravity took its toll LONG ago so, yeh, no worries there either.
"Fine lines and wrinkles" just happen. Every so often I notice a new little crinkle, but no real angst about those either. I am sure one day my grandchildren will say something to me along the lines of what Nattie said to my mom a few Halloweens ago ("You should be a witch this year, Tottee - you've already got such good wrinkles!"), but I'm not there yet ~~ with the wrinkles or the grandkids ~~ so I don't think too much about it.
I did notice something a bit unsettling with my chin a couple of weeks ago, but that probably has more to do with the ten extra pounds I seem to have found recently as opposed to my upcoming 46th birthday.
But this eyesight thing has got me a little bit down...
I've had these glasses for a few years now. I remember the appointment clearly - it was a substitute doctor doing the exam. I told him I needed to update my frames, and that I probably needed a new prescription too because it had "been awhile". I explained to him that I was far-sighted, but needed help up close, and that my left eye was much worse than my right eye (always had been). He did the exam, came back in and began to explain to me that, yes indeed I was farsighted, and, why yes, my left eye was worse than my right....BUT (uh oh) from the exam he could tell that I was "beginning" to need some help faraway as well, and that my right eye had begun to slip a bit too. He had started to explain a lense that could help me when I stopped him.
"You're getting ready to use the B word with me, aren't you?" I asked.
He was young - maybe 27 - and relatively new to the field, let alone our office. "Oh NO maam, I would NEVER say that!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide in disbelief that I would think, let alone verbalize, such a thing.
"Bifocal," I said.
He paused, momentarily relieved. "Oh, yes maam then I am, " he said, quickly adding, "But they make them without the line now you know!"
I believe my response was something along the lines of "You're d*** right they make 'em without the lines!"...and thus my journey into the world of bifocals began.
The first few weeks were awful. I needed the top part of my lense to see to walk down the stairs, but it was the bottom half that came naturally to my view when actually going down the stairs. That didn't work so well.
Then there's the fact that when I lay on my bed to watch TV, the pillows prop my head up in such a way that I have to position my glasses to rest about halfway down my nose in order to be able to see clearly. This makes me look like some cross between an old school librarian, and Mrs. Lathrop, my (back then) 80 year old high school typing teacher.
But I got used to them...and I grew dependent upon them. Just last week, I went to lunch with our Wednesday volunteers. I forgot my glasses at home and actually had to ask for help in reading the check so I knew how much to tip. This did not make me happy, although it did seem to amuse my 25 year old program director, and my 35 year old maintenance man. Glad I could help.
I am not sure what it is about my changing eyesight that has me down, especially considering that none of the way more painful, or noticeable, attributes of aging do, but it definetely bugs me. I think the only thing that would maybe bug me more is if this next appointment, we begin talking about the T word.
May 1, 2007
random thoughts
What was my first word?
What would it be like to live in Cairo?
What would Jesus really do?
How many people's names do I know?
When will I be a grandma?
How long will my parents live?
Will I get to celebrate a Golden Anniversary with Butch? If so, will I remember it the next day?
What is the word for that feeling you get when you know what you're hearing is the voice of God?
What will my children be when they all grow up?
Can we stop global warming?
What will it really take for there to be world peace?
How do you explain God's grace?
What would it be like to live in Cairo?
What would Jesus really do?
How many people's names do I know?
When will I be a grandma?
How long will my parents live?
Will I get to celebrate a Golden Anniversary with Butch? If so, will I remember it the next day?
What is the word for that feeling you get when you know what you're hearing is the voice of God?
What will my children be when they all grow up?
Can we stop global warming?
What will it really take for there to be world peace?
How do you explain God's grace?
April 14, 2007
The sweetest sound...
(originally published on Epinoia Cafe...)
The sweetest sound…
My very favorite story in all of Scripture is John’s retelling of Mary Magdalene encountering the risen Jesus in the garden after leaving the empty tomb the morning of the Resurrection. A grieving and heartbroken Mary assumes the man inquiring about her well-being (”Woman, why are you weeping….”) is the gardener, and she begs of him to tell her where he has taken the body of her beloved Jesus…“Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him and I will take Him away.”Jesus said to her, “Mary!”She turned and said to Him, “Rabboni!”, (which is to say, Teacher).…and John’s words give the impression that she runs to embrace Him.
As a little girl, my eyes would well with tears as my mother’s sweet voice spoke, as Jesus did, Mary’s name. She would lower her voice to almost-a-whisper, say, “Mary…”, and then let the sound of Mary’s name gently trail off. “Mary…” ~~ I can hear it now. Just this past week, my mom, remembering how that story would make me cry, sent me an e-mail asking if it still did. When Noelle, my now almost-22 year old daughter, was very small, my mother read her that passage of Scripture, and told her how it would always bring tears to my eyes. Later that week, my mother found this note, written in Noelle’s child-like printing, safely tucked into John, chapter 20: “Read verse 16 to mom.” Apparently, Noelle wanted to see for herself.
What is it about that passage of Scripture that makes me weep, and has for as long as I can remember? As I’ve grown, I’ve realized that, at least in John’s retelling, Jesus didn’t softly speak Mary’s name as my mother did when she read it to me. There’s an exclamation point after it in the translations I read most-frequently (I haven’t checked all of them), indicating excitement, or perhaps volume. Maybe Jesus shouted her name ~ “MARY!!” ~ to shake her from her grief, much like when you see someone slap another person in the face to bring them back from the brink of hysteria. Maybe He said it to her in the same way I would say my children’s names when they parade across a freshly-mopped floor with their dirty shoes on - you know, that “you-gotta-be-kidding-me” kind of way. “Mary!”, as if to say,”For Pete’s sake woman ~ its ME.” Maybe John only added the emphasis because that is how Mary told the story to him. He wasn’t there - he only had Mary’s words. Maybe it was Mary that added the excitement in her retelling that caused John to want to do the same in his. Who knows? Does it matter? “Mary!”, or “Mary…” ~~ He still spoke her name. And that is what moves me.
We are instructed in Scripture to “claim the name of Jesus” ~~ when tempted, when angry, when scared, and when broken-hearted. But what does it mean for us when God claims our name ~ when God speaks our own name to us? “Barbara!”, or even softly, “Barbara…..”
I can so relate to Mary, on so many different levels, but this remains my favorite story of her in Scripture. She is so overcome with grief, her eyes so blurry with tears, that not only does she not remember her Lord’s promise of the third day, but when face-to-face with Him, she still does not remember, or see…until He speaks her name. I picture her begging this “stranger” to tell her where he has taken her precious friend. I hear her cries. I feel her tears. I know her pain. She just simply needs to know what has happened. The last three days have made no sense to her (despite His teachings) and now, on top of everything else, He is gone. Her Savior is gone. Her friend is gone. I’ve sooooo been there…
Why doesn’t he want me?
Why did I lose my baby?
Why did my friend die?
Why can’t my family understand?
My spirit is defeated.
My heart is broken.
The road is not clear.
I don’t understand.
Why me?
Those circumstances in my own life have evoked in me the same sense of bewilderment and pain that I believe Mary must have felt all those early mornings ago. “Why did this happen?”; “What is going on?”; “Where is He?”. Many sleepless nights, and early mornings, have accompanied the times in my life when I have asked those same questions. I’ve come to “the tomb”, time and time again, on many-a dark and early morning, only to end up crying out to strangers, and to a seemingly invisible void, “Where is my God?! Where have you taken Him - just tell me where He is!”….
And only to hear, time and time again, “Barbara….”
“Barbara…”
Is there a sweeter sound anywhere than that of the Savior, calling you by name?
The sweetest sound…
My very favorite story in all of Scripture is John’s retelling of Mary Magdalene encountering the risen Jesus in the garden after leaving the empty tomb the morning of the Resurrection. A grieving and heartbroken Mary assumes the man inquiring about her well-being (”Woman, why are you weeping….”) is the gardener, and she begs of him to tell her where he has taken the body of her beloved Jesus…“Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him and I will take Him away.”Jesus said to her, “Mary!”She turned and said to Him, “Rabboni!”, (which is to say, Teacher).…and John’s words give the impression that she runs to embrace Him.
As a little girl, my eyes would well with tears as my mother’s sweet voice spoke, as Jesus did, Mary’s name. She would lower her voice to almost-a-whisper, say, “Mary…”, and then let the sound of Mary’s name gently trail off. “Mary…” ~~ I can hear it now. Just this past week, my mom, remembering how that story would make me cry, sent me an e-mail asking if it still did. When Noelle, my now almost-22 year old daughter, was very small, my mother read her that passage of Scripture, and told her how it would always bring tears to my eyes. Later that week, my mother found this note, written in Noelle’s child-like printing, safely tucked into John, chapter 20: “Read verse 16 to mom.” Apparently, Noelle wanted to see for herself.
What is it about that passage of Scripture that makes me weep, and has for as long as I can remember? As I’ve grown, I’ve realized that, at least in John’s retelling, Jesus didn’t softly speak Mary’s name as my mother did when she read it to me. There’s an exclamation point after it in the translations I read most-frequently (I haven’t checked all of them), indicating excitement, or perhaps volume. Maybe Jesus shouted her name ~ “MARY!!” ~ to shake her from her grief, much like when you see someone slap another person in the face to bring them back from the brink of hysteria. Maybe He said it to her in the same way I would say my children’s names when they parade across a freshly-mopped floor with their dirty shoes on - you know, that “you-gotta-be-kidding-me” kind of way. “Mary!”, as if to say,”For Pete’s sake woman ~ its ME.” Maybe John only added the emphasis because that is how Mary told the story to him. He wasn’t there - he only had Mary’s words. Maybe it was Mary that added the excitement in her retelling that caused John to want to do the same in his. Who knows? Does it matter? “Mary!”, or “Mary…” ~~ He still spoke her name. And that is what moves me.
We are instructed in Scripture to “claim the name of Jesus” ~~ when tempted, when angry, when scared, and when broken-hearted. But what does it mean for us when God claims our name ~ when God speaks our own name to us? “Barbara!”, or even softly, “Barbara…..”
I can so relate to Mary, on so many different levels, but this remains my favorite story of her in Scripture. She is so overcome with grief, her eyes so blurry with tears, that not only does she not remember her Lord’s promise of the third day, but when face-to-face with Him, she still does not remember, or see…until He speaks her name. I picture her begging this “stranger” to tell her where he has taken her precious friend. I hear her cries. I feel her tears. I know her pain. She just simply needs to know what has happened. The last three days have made no sense to her (despite His teachings) and now, on top of everything else, He is gone. Her Savior is gone. Her friend is gone. I’ve sooooo been there…
Why doesn’t he want me?
Why did I lose my baby?
Why did my friend die?
Why can’t my family understand?
My spirit is defeated.
My heart is broken.
The road is not clear.
I don’t understand.
Why me?
Those circumstances in my own life have evoked in me the same sense of bewilderment and pain that I believe Mary must have felt all those early mornings ago. “Why did this happen?”; “What is going on?”; “Where is He?”. Many sleepless nights, and early mornings, have accompanied the times in my life when I have asked those same questions. I’ve come to “the tomb”, time and time again, on many-a dark and early morning, only to end up crying out to strangers, and to a seemingly invisible void, “Where is my God?! Where have you taken Him - just tell me where He is!”….
And only to hear, time and time again, “Barbara….”
“Barbara…”
Is there a sweeter sound anywhere than that of the Savior, calling you by name?
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