Restive Ramblings...

Stories....

2008-05-06T09:49:00.003-05:00

All of life is a story.
Actually...although there is only one true story, we all live/create/perceive our version of the story, which in effect means that there are around 6 billion stories being enacted around the world while I write this.

6 Billion.

I have been writing my story since my very first moment of self awareness.

Since the moment I was aware that I was.
That I was aware that I was separate.
Alone.

My story telling capabilities expanded as I grew, magnified and influenced by the story telling abilities of everyone I came into contact with.

Not only was I creating my own story...I was also telling myself the story of the OTHERS.

I would also eventually unwind the story others were telling me about myself....assess it and recreate it to suit my story line.

I read once ( Ishmael: by Daniel Quinn) that to enact a story is to live so as to make the story a reality. He goes further and declares:

"In other words, to enact a story is to strive to make it come true."

The older I get the more I am aware of my disconnect within myself with the story of my life that I am authoring/have authored/have created to explain myself, my surroundings, my relationships.

I am becoming aware of the me...who watches..from within.

I am aware of how all my formative years have been exactly that... the FORMATION of ME.... by ... Me.

Authored.
Published.
Marketed to the max.

In my youth ( the first 40)(( grin)) I have spent massive amounts of time and energy coalescing and gathering and constructing and defining myself.

Unwinding the tale told by others...deconstructing the plot...observing the setting..analyzing...rewriting...

Establishing who I am.

I have come to the realization, over time, that in order for me to do this...I also have to tell the stories of those around me, those who have influence and who I have influence over.

For 40 years I have been author and CREATOR.

Passionately and persuasively I have spent years telling myself and any who would listen: who I am and who I am not.

I have told them and myself: who they are and who they are not.

I can laugh now.

I don't even look at it as a waste of time.

More like an inevitable journey.

The journey itself teaches.

There is no waste.

I am finding my fears have no foundation.

I am grateful that I am not limited to my authorship.
Neither is anyone whose story I have told.

I don't take myself so seriously anymore.

Not only can I laugh now.
But I do.

I laugh.
The Me who watches...and allows myself to BE.

Life to be...

I know that I will still have my hand in... grasping the pen firmly...pounding the keys...using the thesaurus like mad....

But I also know that I will put the pen down....push the backspace key...
Hit delete...
Use whiteout...
Burn the manuscript on occasion and watch the smoke ascend into the bright blue sky...

And laugh

What do I know?

I too am a name on the page of someone else's story...

And yet..
Not at all....

I simply am...

Today that brings joy enough.

ps... to all those whose story I might have told loudly and longly...convincingly... and through the telling caused pain, know that you simply are...and thus cannot be defined by me... I was incapable....of telling your story with any accuracy. I do not have the talent.Only the one who designed you and me has that talent. Peace and joy to you all..wherever you are.

Truth and Meaning

2008-03-17T14:34:00.005-05:00

It's been a while.
Blogging is good for the soul but there are times when even I...
yes I...
am so far deep in the muck that breathing is the only landscape.
Face down.
Planted.
Full length.
I guess it's better than 6 feet under looking up at the dirt... pushin daisies...
But some days I am not too sure.
This emotional... feeling... experiencing... life...
is at times beyond expression... and the pain is soul deep.
Inescapable.

What is the truth?
Where is the meaning?

Am reading a book.
Again.

"Searching For God Know's What " by Donald Miller, who is also the author of " Blue Like Jazz" and " To Own a Dragon". ( fantastic reads all around)

Among other things he talks about how we have reduced the bible to a Self Help Manual or a treatise on right and wrong. We have systematically created lists and systematically go about checking them off.

Really.
Just think about it.
God has somehow become like Santa... he's making a list and checkin it twice.
Naughty?
Nice?
Check your list of do's and don'ts for the day.
Do pray.
Don't yell at your kids.
Do go to church.
Don't steal.
Do honor your parents.
Don't kill.
Do... don't ... do... don't
They did.... ooops..naughty naughty...
I didn't... way to go.... two thumbs up....
They bad.
Me good.
Me right.
Them...wrong.

Check the list.
See?

What if you made a list of the physical features of your lover? Your parents? Your best friend?

Brown hair.
Green Eyes.
Slim build. Small feet.
Long Eyelashes.
Narrow waist.
Full lips.
High cheek bones.
Long legs.

What if you carried it around with you everywhere you went.

It is all true.

But has no meaning.

Separate from relationship.

Miller talks about how we have managed to separate truth from meaning.
What is the purpose of truth?
What is the purpose of the Bible?
What is the meaning of it all?
What are we missing?
What am I missing?
He goes on to speculate about what drives us and I think he hits the nail on the head.

We are desperate for something to give us meaning.
We search for it every second of the day.
We seek it out in our family, friends, co-workers, classmates.
Our religions.
We try to find it in our gifts, talents and percieved strengths.
We try to avoid it in our weaknesses and failings... obsessions and appetites.
We whisper it in the dark and scream it in the car on the way to church.
We wear it... read it... record it... watch it... advertise it.... hide it.... broadcast it
We collect it around the watercooler...
Gather it in our bank accounts.
Document it in our preformance reviews.

Someone tell me again who I am.

It's why we work so hard to make the rules... keep the rules or break the rules.

The problem is... it never lasts.

Human love...value... definitions... must be given over and over and over...
They are incapable of satisfying.

Think about it.

Telling someone you love them once is never enough.
Hugging someone.
Praising someone.
Encouraging someone.
Sexual satisfaction.
Emotional satisfaction.
Physical satisfaction.

These are vessels that constantly need topping up.

Why?

Can it be as Miller puts it that we need to look through the truth to find the meaning?

Was this what was lost in Eden?

Were we separated from what gave us meaning?

Are we so deep into self-help...self-worth...self-esteem... that we can't get it?

a painting does not give itself worth.
a pottery urn doesn't assign itself value.
a crystal vase does not fill itself.
a rare orchid cannot give itself it's rare status.
a diamond has no capacity to define itself.

A husband is incapable of bringing meaning to his wife.
A child has no power to establish worth to its parents.
A father is powerless to bestow value on his children.

I cannot give myself meaning.
Thus....
I cannot deprive myself of worth or value if I cannot bestow it in the first place.

So.

If I cannot give it.
I cannot take it away.

I am not a list.

What if it is all about relationship?
All of it.
What if it is all about restored realtionship?
What was lost.
Is lost no longer.

What if God.
Who gives all things meaning.
With intent.
Has always.
Eternally.
Been about.
This.

Love.

Meaning.

Us.
HIM.

Together.

No wonder when Paul wrote the " Love chapter" in his letter to the Corinthians of the day, he said it was possible to understand all mysteries and have all knowledge.... and be without love.... and it was all nothing!

Getting it right and knowing true things was not what it was all about.
Truth without meaning reduces everthing to a list.

You have to look through the truth to the meaning behind it.

What am I searching for?

Someone to tell me who I am.
Cause I can't.
Neither can my husband, my children, my family, my friends, my enemies...
No one.

It is only the One who made me that has the power to explain me..to give me meaning.

God.

I pray a lot.

I have to.

It seems like my whole life has become a prayer.

It's not about self help.
It's not about fixing the messes.
It's not about understanding everything.

It's about meaning....

try it.

You just might find yourself for the first time.

Just As I Am

2008-02-27T14:27:00.002-06:00

When is the last time your world blew up?
When is the last time your current reality...revealed itself as not so real after all?
When is the last time you looked in the mirror and saw beyond your own image?
When is the last time the STATUS QUO became a thing of fantasy?

This past week was one of those times.

There are many different levels that this type of upheaval can occur on in your life.
As a performance driven individual this type of chaos is avoided, feared and if the first two options are not possible, fixed immediately.

I have grown up doing the right thing.
Or trying to do the right thing.
As often as possible.
The goal is 100%
Not 90%.
The goal is: Do it.
Do it right.
Do it better.
Do it better with a good attitude.
Improve on it.
Do it again.
Failure is not making less than 5o%...
failure is not reaching your goal.

I grew up self assessing to the max.
Analyzing.
Inspecting.
Critiquing.
Cleaning out.
Building up.
Strengthening.
Educating.
Improving.
Doing it.
Right...
and righter still.
Proving to myself that I could.

Suck it up princess.
Shake it off.
Be strong.
Be stronger.
Get it right.
Be good.
You can.
Think positive.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
You know what to do.
Do it.

I didn't smoke.
I didn't drink.
I didn't sleep around.
I didn't cheat.
I didn't do drugs.
I didn't swear.
I didn't ..lots of things.

I hated school.
I aced my exams.
I excelled.
I was extremely shy.
I became popular.
I had no fashion sense.
No sense of style.
I faked it.
I liked being alone.
I hid in crowds.
I hated public speaking.
I became a great conversationalist.

I dreamed big.
I had nightmares.

I am 40.
Today I am surrounded by the rubble of disappointed hopes.
My mind echoes with the screams of avoided fears..
I am haunted by the consequences of delayed failure.

I stand amidst the ruins of choices.
I failed.

Now what?

Why do we fear failure so much?
Actually..not all failures...
There are many ways to fail acceptably.

My failure is not one of them.
I am not going to name my failure for all you who are salivating...
Suffice to say...it is mine...
You have yours.
If I trusted that my nakedness would spawn nakedness all around instead of a gossip fest then maybe I would scream my failure from the rooftop.
But I don't.
Most of us take reality in little convenient bite size pieces.
Calling ourselves raw...open..honest.
The truth is if we get truly honest and uncovered ...most of the time we shake up someone else's comfort zone..
Our nakedness requires something of everyone around us...
What do we do now?
What is required of me?
Is this going to cost me?

I don't like feeling obligated.

The truth is we are all OBLIGATED!

To each other.

To love.
To share.
To support.
To encourage.
To give.
To prefer the other.
To sacrifice.
To serve.

Because the truth is..if we can grasp it...

We are all dependent...
Interdependent.
When one is sick...
When one is hurting..
When one is lonely..
When one is abandoned..
When one is abused..
When one is naked..
When one is lacking...
When one is poor...

We are all...
SICK
HURTING
LONELY
ABANDONED
ABUSED
NAKED
LACKING
POOR

This week...

I sit surrounded by a need.
Failure covers the landscape.
Abject poverty of spirit swells like a tsunami.

This is who I am.
This is my reality.
This is where faith begins.
This is where trust flourishes.
Just as I am.
God comes to my worst .... not my best.
He saves....
He defeats the Giant.
I realized this week that in the old story of David and Goliath, when David ran towards Goliath,
he wasn't seeing a Giant... He was running towards his God....the giant was God's to bring down.

We all have our personal giants..specifically tailored to our fears, weaknesses, hungers, desires, hopes and dreams.
At the place of our greatest failures is the potential for the greatest success.
We cannot defeat ourselves.
We come.
Just as we are.
Children.
Broken.
Wrong.
Afraid.
Undone.

Trusting that God is bigger.
Than our failures.
Than our giants.
Than our assessments.
Than our successes.

Here I am.
Miracles come.
When they are needed.
When they are believed in.

In the midst of my ruins today.
I believe.
I take courage.
I run forward...towards the one...
Just as I am..

He is everything I need.
He takes me as I am.
Just as I am.

Take courage.
I am.
He never fails the failed.

Life..or something like it...

2008-02-20T10:48:00.002-06:00

Waiting.
How much of our lives is spent waiting?

waiting for answers to questions...
for the next meal...
the next drink...
for morning...
for the day to end..
for the weekend to begin...
for the all important proposal...
the first contraction that signals the beginning of labor...
for payday...
for summer holidays..
for the good news..
the bad news...
any news...

waiting.

For a sign.
For a sound.
For something.

Not yet.

But soon.

I hate the word soon!

Today...is pregnant with anticipation.
I am awaiting on impending news... a sign... an answer... a promise..
Some of these things are accompanied by pain... grief...suffering and sorrow...
Others by sacrifice...and discipline, effort and resolve...
And another by peace..comfort..joy and hope.

Just waiting.

I think I have been waiting all my life.
Knowing that there is no arriving... while I draw breath.
The journey of life is as important as the destination...
The destination is within us...
Conceived by the very presence of the ONE..
Who outside of time and space...
Inhabits.
Us.
Dwells...
Within.
Us.
Fully.

This is life.
To know Him.
As I am known.
To be in Him.
As He is in me.

Life.

Or something like it....

Wrapped in a blanket...
Struggling to keep warm, I fight back the tears that threaten to spill over.
Following is so much more than just believing.
Today I follow ...
And the trail leads to a grave...
A barren wasteland...
A dark cave... in a storm.
A precipice...
a desert...

These are not destinations...
but steps on a journey...
The destination is not a place...
but a state of being...

Do I believe in life after love?
Didn't Cher sing that line?

No.
I don't.
Life is LOVE.
LOVE is life.

Today, as tears flow...and my heart fails me,
As my eyes pierce the horizon, waiting for redemption..
for a response...
for a rescue...
for an explanation...
a revelation...
a resurrection...

I find myself... acknowledging my limitations..my ignorance,
My finite imagination.

So... I wait.
Anticipating... that the response is... near.
Life.. or something like it...is happening all around me.
Tonight..a lunar eclipse..where the shadow of the earth covers the light of the moon.
A satellite..falls from the sky...
A life lingers on the threshold...
A journey continues...on a blind curve...
Hearts break... and still beat...
Minds reason... and snap
Hands still... clenched in tormented helpless fists....resting on bruised chests.
We hold our breath...
And exhale...yet again...

Birth.
Death.
Success.
Failure.
Justice.
Oppression.
Hope.
Despair.

Life.
And yet not...life...

Today...
In all honesty...
I'll take...
I'd rather...
...something like it....

Just not..this...

A Love Story....

2008-02-14T09:41:00.002-06:00

So my husband comes home yesterday from work and calls me into the den to view this website he heard about on CBC radio.
The website is www.booksbyyou.com.
Check it out if you dare.
The jist of it is that you have several different story synopsis to choose from. You enter your personal information: first and last name, eye color, hair color, body type ( wahoo! You can lie!) and the name of a close personal friend. You choose your hero and presto. One click and there you are star of your own cheesy romance novel.
On the radio they were touting this as a great valentines gift...for you and your lover.
You get to do a free sample online...so we did.
Oh my!
We howled!
I promptly called my good friend Cheryle...and busted a gut as she read back her raunchy personalized version.
Honestly..it has been a long while since I laughed til I cried.

What does this say...about us?

" Her silky satiny skin brushed up against him as she reached for her coffee cup...."
" His piercing blue eyes shot a lightening bolt through her..igniting the embers of desire."
" Her hand reached for the buttons.... "
As the commercial goes...
"That was easy!"

Has it come to this?
Welcome to the desert of the real...as they say in the Matrix.

Are we so scared of being invisible...and ordinary...and unimaginative..and insignificant..and uninteresting..and unlovely....unremarkable..unworthy...

What do we believe about ourselves that drives us to the great "American Romance Novel"?

I find it interesting that men fight the battle with pornography....
While us women go unremarked upon in our obsession with the Romance Novel.

We launch ourselves into impossible worlds with ..improbable heroines and heroes... clutching our bodices dramatically as we are taken against our will... we are ravished and fall madly in love with our ravishers...suffer seduction and surrender our virtues...all between laundry, carpooling and soccer practice.
We are stalked by killers and fall into bed with our rescuers in the suspense genre...shop til we drop on Rodeo Drive and are seduced by strangers in cafe's in the modern genre.. Taken captive by barbarians in the Medieval era...
All the while loathing our true selves...wrestling with cellulite, a rash of acne...the spare tire and muffin top bulging over our jeans...our breasts geographically challenged by childbirth or weight gain or genetics...only saved by technologically enhanced undergarments that are no support while lying flat on our backs on ill fitting cotton sheets of unremarkable thread counts.

Whether you were prom queen.. most sought after girl by the jocks...
Activist pursued by the environmentally conscious tree huggers...
Brain...admired for your intellectually stimulating conversations..
Car Jockey...dirty girl..covered in grease, riding with the bad boys...
Librarian...hidden behind your shy demeanor...shrouded in mystery undiscovered..
MVP of the varsity team... popular by association...
Goth girl...grunge girl...deep thoughtful contemplative girl...theatre girl..dance girl...artist girl
Or Plain-Jane...invisible girl...
...avoided or marginalized... elevated and praised...

We still seek to put ourselves in another story...to transplant ourselves...to reinvent ourselves...
As if we are not enough.

We fight our own sense of insignificance and inadequacy every day... we battle invisible demons.. wage wars against disembodied voices... mentally assault nameless enemies striding beside us on the sidewalk...or sitting next to us in the salon....the woman in the mirror brushing her teeth before bed.
We are still fighting.

Our screams echo around in our heads like something out of a horror flick.

And we escape.
Recreate.
Re-design.
Re-invent.

To survive.

There is another love story out there.
This one is real.
Worth the read.
It's not finished yet....
Several episodes left.

The funny thing is.
You really are the heroine.
There is a lover....
Whew...you couldn't make him up if you tried.
He is so not Hollywood.

It's a best seller.
This romance.
It's not in the back seat of a stretch limo...or a penthouse suite...
Or maybe it is...
Wherever you are there it is.
It's also in the alley under the El.
In the back room of the bar...
It's in the trailer park...the hotel room...the casino...the cabin... the condo
Its on the seashore...the mountain top...the ghetto...
The projects...the brothel... the refugee camp...the suburbs

She's wearing a burkah...goth clothing...army fatigues... a sari...an apron
Satin...wool...silk...cotton...furs...rags....
Shes naked.
Stiletto's...thigh highs... doc martins...platforms....bare feet....flip flops...
She's anorexic...obese...obsessive...addicted...successful...incarcerated...turning tricks... shooting up... bottoming out...suicidal...murderous...depressed... intellectually challenged...

She's you...she's me...
She's beloved.

Check out the story...it has rave reviews.
Nothing else comes close.
It's off the hook.
The author?
He's the Hero....
Check him out...
You won't be sorry.
Trade in the fantasy... for a little reality.
Forget COKE...this is THE REAL THING!
Today is Valentines Day....
Start looking through his rose colored glasses...
Start filtering through his camera lens...
Discover...
You are Loved....
You are enough...
You are MORE than enough...
You are the reason..the focus... the prize.

BE LOVED.
Beloved.

Happy Valentines Day to all you Beauties out there.

Master Cleanse

2008-02-13T09:46:00.003-06:00

Day four.
Tomorrow is the half way point.
The hardest part of the day is my morning salt water flush.
Being the sixth time doing this cleanse,I am puzzled by the fact that the morning flush gets harder each time.
I decided rather spontaneously to start the cleanse this week because I had been battling a cold and was already basically fasting...drinking copious amounts of herbal teas with lemon and honey and eating very little. IT was easy to transition into just drinking for ten days.
I wanted to do the fast around lent because of its symbolism and also because I was in need of it.
My body is out of whack with winter isolation..very little outside activities and a bout of depression securely rooted in our recent circumstances and more than adequately fed by the bitter cold imprisoning weather.
A physical lethargy has crept in..and taken up residence.
Moving my body seems to take too much effort...except for the muscles in my arm that have more than enough stamina to transport food from plate to mouth.
I have discovered...or should I say: rediscovered the age old truth that desire is not enough.
Desire for a healthy..fit..muscular...toned body is not enough.
I believe the right things about food..and exercise.
You could say I have the right orthodoxy...the right way of believing.
But am sadly lacking in ortho-praxis....the right way of living out what I believe.

Oooh...time for the transition from natural to spiritual...
Can you see where this is heading?

I am reading a dangerous book.
The title for all you who dare is:
"Irresistible Revolution"
( Shane Claiborne)

I am also reading another very dangerous...unsafe book:
Some of the text in this book is written in red.
It has many authors.
I have read it many times ...but recently discovered that although I had professed to be a believer...I was not being much of a follower...and at my age that truth has begun to scare me.

It is pretty crazy when after all these years...the author of the book tells you that he loves you..is pleased with you...and now wants you to follow him and you begin to understand that it will cost you everything you have..all that you believe in and maybe your life.
That it is not about being understood so much as misunderstood...it is not about living so much as dying..it is not about having..so much as losing..it is not so much as being accepted as being rejected and hated....
It is not about being safe.

Did he really mean what he said?

There are safer ways to live than by being a follower of the One.

I am on day four of The Master Cleanse...almost half way through.
I am at the beginning of another fast... one designed by the Master.
This one's for life.

I believe Jesus really meant what he said.
In the Sermon on the Mount and the Beattitudes ( Matthew 5)
To the rich young ruler. (Matthew 19: 16-30)

Shane Claiborne puts it like this:

"There are cooler ways to live than by trying to follow the gospel...but look on the bright side, if you end up in jail, historically, you will be in very good company. Jail has always been an important place for Christians. In eras of injustice, it becomes the Christian's home.
So live real good, get beat up real bad. Dance until they kill you, and then dance some more.
That's how this thing seems to work."

It takes a while in this culture for things to sink in.
We are so numb...medicated..sedated...overfed...over indulged...over satisfied..
So indoctrinated with the media..sermons..propaganda: that we are entitled..we are good..we are free... we are superior...we are blessed..privileged..

We need a Master Cleanse..we need Jesus to do a clean sweep in the temple.
I need it.

I am not content to be a believer.
I am no longer satisfied with tongues..miracles..knowledge..prophecy...

Without LOVE they are nothing.

Loving my family..friends according to scripture...is not enough.

Where are my enemies
Where are the poor...the wounded...the crippled...the naked..the sick...the addicts?
They are where they have always been... not in my neighborhood..

I am done with believing....
Following has become my only option...

Losing my life...to gain it.

Jesus is for losers....

Master of losers...

Cleanse my heart...

teach me to follow.

Small things GREAT love…simple but hard

2008-02-09T17:59:00.000-06:00

Mother Theresa said..
"There are no great things...just small things done with great love."

The Apostle Paul said... in 1 Corinthians 1:27-29
" God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise. God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things- and the things that are not- to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him."

I confess.
I don't like the thoughts of being foolish.
I would rather be considered wise.
I am not a fan of being weak.
Strength is the goal.
Lowly...hmmmmm....is that the same as humble?
I can be humble...no really…I have been practicing…
And I have enough self hatred to fill a football stadium... is that the same as lowly?

It’s not?

Crap.

Small things…with great love…

No one I know goes around saying they want to accomplish small things with their lives.

Where is the ambition in that?

Where is the drive?

It is great things…or nothing.

Leave your mark…or your star on the sidewalk…

Make a name for yourself.

Small things?

That is not what we are indoctrinated with from our infancy in this country.

It’s BIG THINGS…big business…big impact….big rewards….

BIG job…big account…big investments…big dreams…

In Irresistible Revolution, Shane Claiborne talks about ordinary radicals.

An oxymoron to most of us.

He declares unapologetically, that true generosity is not measured by how much you give away…but by how much you have left…in light of your neighbors need.

Can we live another way?

Different than the way we are living now?

Do we want to?

I have heard it said that Christian scholarship in this century is what protects us from the bible itself.

We really do NOT have to live like Jesus…or do what he did.

Seriously.

We don’t.

I don’t.

Why is that?

It is foolishness of course.

Ahhhh…

He said we would do greater things…

And we latched onto that…

GREATER things than Jesus… wow…

That I can agree to.

Sign me up.

Did you ever stop to think about what is greater than healing the sick or raising the dead?

Calming storms… or pulling money out of the mouth of a fish?

What is greater?

Love flowing from sinners…born into sin…giving it all away…laying it all down...loving one’s neighbor as oneself…

This is greater.

And we want the star on the walk of Christian fame.

God have mercy.

I have been thinking lately about sheep and goats and tares and wheat.

A little bit of terror has crept onto my horizon.

This fear…of God…is good for my soul….

I have discovered in my barren landscape…my devastated wasteland…

That I have more wells than I need for myself.

I have more seed…

More love.

More time.

More.

All I have is his.

If I keep while someone else lacks…I am stealing... I am a thief.

I am.

God forgive me.

Small things.

Great love.

Simple…yet hard.

Time to begin.

He said “Follow me.”

He meant it.

Two coats?

Two pairs of shoes? ( yeah right)

Two beds?

Two cars?

Two houses?

Do we dare?

Small things….

Great love.

Greater things.

Simple.

Hard.

Possible.

Dawn...

2008-02-05T07:22:00.000-06:00

The light was increasing on the horizon before 7am this morning.
I could see the shape of the windows illuminated against the walls.
The trees outside my window stood stark against the sky.
Etched like they were the shadows...
My mornings are getting lighter...earlier.
Even though I have experienced this every year of my life...
Living in the northern hemisphere, watching the dark recede in February is one of the rare gifts in a land smothered and imprisoned in snow and ice.
Spring is approaching...long before winter even acknowledges that there is a battle being waged.

You have to watch for it...
You have to pay attention.
One of the effects of watching many sunrises ...is a permanent hopefulness branded on my heart.
It is impossible not to hope as you see the darkness flee before the light.
If you ever want a boost in your spirit..deep in the well of your soul:
Keep your eyes on the horizon.
Arise...leave your bed...stand at the window or get yourself outside.
Fix your eyes...
The wonder and miracle of dawn is more than just the intellectual knowledge of earths rotation.

First the natural..then the spiritual.

Enacted before us everyday...every season... is the mystery, the miracle...
Resurrection...
Rebirth...
Renewal.
HOPE.
All things are being made new.
Including you and I.

"His mercies are new every morning...his faithfulness reaches to the skies"
...so the ancient scriptures proclaim with passion...
"The heavens declare the glory of God..."
" He is the light of the world."

Fix your eyes today...let your heart follow...
It's a new day... spread before you is another demonstration, an interaction...
An invitation: believe, hope...

"Weeping endures for the night: Joy comes in the morning."

Our days on this planet are a cycle of light invading the dark...
The unending struggle...
The inevitable truth enacted out before our very eyes:

Light wins...dawn always comes.
Winter ends...Life begins anew.
Ice recedes...waters flow forth...
It's a new day.

Hope springs eternal.

Watch.
Wait.
Believe.

True Religion

2008-02-04T09:57:00.000-06:00

Isn't that the name of a clothing line?
Yes it is.
I just googled the name.
A Brand name.
Hoodies sell for $141.00 US
The cheapest jeans: $172.00 US

Sure defines our culture today.
That is a whopping exclamation point.
People in North Americal are passionate about fashion.
To a fault.

Our fault.

We stitch it on our asses, emblazon it across our chests...

Our hearts remain untouched.

" Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves.
Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in the mirror and after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.....if anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight reign on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless.
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."
James 1:22,24,26-27

We are addicted to looking in the mirror.
Our tongues rule us: in word (speaking) and deed ( feasting)
The funny thing is: we keep ourselves away from what we think is pollution... but by any other name is people in need.

People are not the pollution being talked about: thoughts...leading to actions..and beliefs are the corruptions he was talking about.
Ways of living.
Ways of doing business.
Ways of relating.
Ways of satisfying.
Ways of acting.

Accepting any other road map but the way of LOVE.

Religion: can be full of fault
Religion can be: impure

and

Religion can be FAULTLESS
Religion can be PURE

Religion ( Webster's Dictionary): (4) a cause, principle or system of beliefs held to with ardor and faith. ( attitudes, beliefs and PRACTICES)

Does anyone know a homeless person by name?
Does anyone know a welfare widow?
Someone dying of AIDS?
Does anyone know an orphan? In the system? Abandoned?
A single mom... a crack baby?
A FAS child?
An inmate?

By name?

They have names.
All of them.

I don't know many...for most of the list.

And that scares me.

It is possible to believe in God.

And not follow.

It is possible to preach about, talk about, read about...sing about... God...

And lose the way.

Jesus never stopped walking.
He never saved for his future...even the next meal's bread was entrusted to his Father's care.

We are the DIY Generation.
Do It Yourself.
We have the power to make wealth. ( some of us)
We have the power and smarts to ensure that our children are provided for...into their futures.
They can need God for other things than money, food and shelter. ( some of them)
Our future. Our children's futures. Safe. Secure.

What about HIS children.

Who are hungry.
Without water.
Without homes.
Without hope for tomorrow let alone ten years time.

Are we so busy securing our futures and those of our children...that we forsake following the path?

Who do we belong to?
Who do our children belong to?
Who do the widows ...orphans...juvenile hall graduates..street people..meth addicts..belong to?

We are so busy constructing a distress-less life for our own...
We forsake those actually IN distress...NOW

What are we going to trust God for?
When are we going to have to start believing in miracles again?

When we need them.

But if we have all the stuff.
If everything is working and secure.
If we have more than enough.

Why do we need him?

Where has he gone?
Where have all the miracles gone?

True.
Pure.
Undefiled.

Seared into my soul.
Branded on my heart.
Blazing forth from my eyes.

Guiding my feet.
Filling my hands.

Shouting their names.

When all is said and done, I guess you can go and buy True Religion for $172.00 US online.
Or you can start selling.... have a garage sale... list on Ebay...or craigslist...
Find a walking stick.
There's a dust cloud in the distance...you might be able to catch up if you hurry.
I'm heading out myself.

Share.....

2008-02-01T07:19:00.000-06:00

Years ago in BC, just before Christmas, I received a call from a friend. Her family was in dire straights financially and had very little food in their cupboard. This surprised me since her husband was making way more money than mine at the time. We had just been given two hampers by different people so we were set for Christmas. A sweet neighbor had brought over an extra turkey for us, so I could see the food stretching into January. God was good. Less than 24 hours later I knew God wanted us to give away half of what we had been given. My husband I gathered together a laundry basket full of provision, along with several more boxes and bags, and headed out. We watched the smiles erupt on the faces of our friends and the tears flow in gratitude. A couple of days later I get another call. The husband had gone out and gotten financing and bought my friend a nice ring, necklace and earring set ( real gems), a set of premier pots and pans, clothing and a myriad of other items. As I hung up the phone my heart burned in anger. I yelled at God as I looked around my home at the bare necessities. Why did you have me give to someone who doesn't deserve it? To someone who would be so reckless and irresponsible? We sacrificed...and they were unappreciative of the sacrifice....it was wrong...damn wrong!
In a gentle whisper God reminded me that it is never just about the recipient: it is about HIM, the giver and the recipient. And the bottom line is love..not worthiness as defined by me.

God brought that story back to my memory when I woke up this morning.
I am a wreck.
The tears won't stop.
I know that in retrospect...I withheld LOVE...after the fact.
I took the provisions in good faith.
I met the need.
I shared.
I weighed them, measured them and found them wanting... and stifled love in the face of MY KNOWLEDGE....
I stopped seeing them...and only judged their actions....

How many times do I do that?
Determine worthiness by my sense of a person's level of responsibility...or appreciation of their position... or value of my gift...my sacrifice.

We were given a second van once by some friends who had upgraded to a fully loaded new one. We were in need... were were going to sell it for cash. We got a call from some other friends asking us to pray for a young couple who were in desperate need of a vehicle. We gave the vehicle away. They were floored. We didn't know them. We didn't have their bank statements or credit card receipts to prove they were responsible ...and worthy of the gift.

Love flowed freely down...and through..unhindered by my filters...my screening process.

I was learning.

This morning I awoke.

In need.

Of so many things.

I can't begin to tell you.

My heart is breaking.

Where is Jesus today?

He is here with me... compassionately and kindly leading me to repentance.
In my time of desperate need he takes me back...and unlocks the doors I slammed shut .
I don't ever want to dam up God's love...or his gifts or his resources.

This has been a hard year for us.
Things didn't exactly go as planned.
The present landscape is harsh and barren and the resources are gone.
The debts pile up and winter seems to be increasing it's hold.
I can feel the cold penetrating to the marrow of my bones.

Does this make you uncomfortable?

Sorry.

Well Jesus said: Woe to you if everyone speaks well of you...

You can stop right here.
Go no farther.

Our situation became critical around Christmas.
We are still scrambling.
And praying.
And crying.

A single mom friend of mine who eight years ago was standing in a food bank line-up with a small child, having had all her stuff repossessed after her husband left her, sent me money in the mail...along with several packages on the Greyhound Bus filled with card making supplies so I could create beautiful things while waiting for a miracle or two.

Another blessing came in the form of an email money transfer from friends whose church we don't even attend.

Again...I was notified that a girl friend of mine who is in desperate straights herself arranged for an email transfer as well..she was desperate to give back she said...she craved to give...even out of her own need.

I am undone by it all.
Like Shane Claiborne..I feel like I could say: Jesus wrecked my life.

As you read this you may answer back... no ...you did that yourself....your choices led you.
God wants you to prosper...follow the rules like we did...they are there for your protection.

When is the last time you looked at a person in need and did not measure their choices..analyze their faith...probe their beliefs...to see if they are worthy of sharing with?

I know.
I was there.

God have mercy on us all.

Where is Jesus?

He's homeless.
He's hungry.
He's cold.
He's in debt.
He's dying.
He's isolated.
He's taking the bus.
He's on drugs.
He's prostituting.
He's lonely.
He's stealing.
He's in jail.
He smells.

The least of these.

Have you ever been?

"Most good things begin with a little guilt, but they never end there. We are all bound up in the filthy system, and if you find yourself particularly bound, take courage, as you then will have more grace as you liberate others."
( Shane Caliborne: Irresistible Revolution)

Today...I need to see Jesus.
I need him to bust out of the mausoleums we have entombed him in.
The box...we have imprisoned him in.
I want the filters removed...from his free flowing river of love and mercy...compassion and forgiveness.
Since when did we become his board of directors?
Since when did we become his counselors?
His marketing team?

God have mercy on our souls.

I am learning.
Through the fire of need.
In the crucible.
There is a certain freedom found in desperation.
We start believing in miracles again when we need one.
We start looking for truth amidst our shattering lies.

You can't look down...from the bottom.
But the view looking up is spectacular.

I am not telling you to go slumming today.
I am asking you to shut down and remove the filters you have placed between you and those
God loves....
Stop administrating God.
Stop the excuses.

Freely you have received.
Freely give.
Today.
Today people.
Find them.
You know who they are...and if you don't go look for some.
See them.
Like he does.
The last shall be first.... in a world where first is the only goal in sight... it is foolish.
That's HIS truth.

It's one of the first lessons you learn as a child.

SHARE.
share.
sHaRe.

go ahead.

do it.

if you dare.

Naked and Exposed

2008-01-31T08:35:00.000-06:00

Life.

This is it people.

It is what you are doing right now.

Breathing, working, drinking coffee, doing laundry....
Studying, paying the bills, getting engaged, driving...
Laughing, loving, running, eating....
Crying, dying, hurting, hiding...
Searching...

At this moment we are all living.

How are you doing?

Fine?

The operative word of our day.

FINE.

Anything more than that response takes time, energy and strength...
Any other answer takes courage and humility... honesty and resolve...

Our days are full of activities.
Maintaining our worlds.
Supporting our choices and beliefs with actions.
This is what we do.
This is who we have become.
It's amazing how long we can go on... covered by our lives.
Shrouded in the everyday.
Wrapped up in motherhood, fatherhood...
The consummate employee...the daring adventurer
The responsible civil servant...the compassionate care giver...
Best Friend...faithful lover... responsible son or daughter...
It's all good.

When is the last time you really stripped it all away and stood naked?

When is the last time you came out from behind the mask...from behind the cardboard cutout of the moment...

Ever since the garden man has been well aware that nakedness is not something to aspire to.

We have dreams of being naked in a crowd.

We cover ourselves.

We are embarrassed....full of shame.

If we are honest ...not many of us can stand comfortably naked in front of ourselves...not to mention in front of anyone else.

Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually.

Bottom line.

We fear it.

What if they see that?
What if they notice that?
What if they realize that?

What if.

Then.

What???????

What?

What!!!!!!!!

What if they know?

God.

We spend entire lives covering ourselves.
Hiding our true natures...our true selves.
Our perceived flaws, warts, weaknesses...
All the time peering through the gloom at other's apparently un-hidible issues.

For instance: smoking, obesity, alcoholism and gambling...rage
Not easily hidden.

Others more easily masked: greed, selfishness, lust, envy, strife, pride....arrogance..lying.

Have you ever heard yourself say: "Well they made bad choices...so that's why they ended up in that situation. I made better choices so what I have God blesses...it's mine."

?????

Or... something like this: "They got themselves into this mess, they can get themselves out."

??????

I am sure glad God didn't think that way.

I was born with a high metabolism.
I never struggled a day in my life with my weight.
Until the last few years.
It is all relative.
I used to wonder how people ended up overweight.
Well...in some small part I now know.
Mix hard times...with depression...and more hard times....physical illness and inactivity..with aging...and a growing emotional attachment to my food for comfort... and there you have it.

What about money....
Possessions.
What about rage...
Manipulation.
What about status.
Position.
What about accumulation...
Ownership.
What about judgment...criticism...
Labeling.

Thank God he did not feel the same way about us as we do about each other.

It is 2008.

Isn't it time we got naked?

Truly.

The lie is that we have so much to lose.

All that we have.
Our reputations.
Our image.
Our stuff.
Our relationships.

I write from my life here.
I was done a long time ago with the mask.
I am far from finished.
I have lost relationships.
I have hurt people.
I have been injured.
I have systematically been stripping away...my leaves... while still attempting in some sort of feeble way to cover myself with my own hands or shadows.

I have help.

The One.

Who fashioned the first coverings... with sacrifice.
He is helping me.
Supporting me.
Surrounding me.
Empowering me.

One of my good friends has a son doing his DTS with YWAM in Hawaii. The group recently spend the night on a black volcanic sand beach. The wind was so high that they dug trenches and slept under the trucks. The next day their exposed skin was smooth like a baby's.

Sand...driven by wind....scours.

Nakedness is not comfortable.
Especially in this climate.

I refer to the climate of a society fraught with secrets...
...full of defense mechanisms brought on by fear, and a desperate drive to anesthetize our pain.

This is where we live.

When will we begin to really see the "LEAST OF THESE"... not as less than ourselves.. but as ourselves in any given moment????

When will we begin to LOVE God with all our hearts, souls, mind and strength...
AND....
Our neighbors as ourselves?

We can't yet.

We don't love ourselves.

We feed ourselves...we clothe ourselves...we accumulate..we are gluttons...we inoculate ourselves... we surround ourselves with comforts... we protect ourselves... and work our asses off securing our futures.

THIS IS NOT LOVE.

Love awaits.

Strip down.

Take it all off.

Let him help.

Step out of the shadows.

Take a deep breath.

Naked and exposed....you will never be the same.

Neither will your world.

Obsessed with the Weather...a true Canadian Girl!

2008-01-29T14:23:00.001-06:00

-43 degrees Celsius with the windchill as I write.
-51 forecast for tonight.
The Weather Network is the most frequently visited site on our computer.

I am Canadian.

True blue.

Through and through.

Residing rebelliously and somewhat resentfully in the center of the country 35 minutes from Canada's coldest southernmost city, I find myself consumed by the violence of my emotions ... severely taxed by the obscene cold.
I am undone.
I hear often..."you'll get used to the cold"....

I reply in my mind facetiously: " who the hell wants to?"

I feel like if I don't suffer in silence...or struggle valiantly to overcome my malevolent aggression against such bitter imprisonment..then I am not strong...or courageous or hardy enough.
I must wrestle myself into submission: You will learn to like it damn it... there is no lumping it here!

My friends here think I am doing well...I know the truth.

Even those who endure this climate year after year...talk about it incessantly...marvel again and again at the cold.. comparing and contrasting to previous years, predicting the coming year with great passion and conviction.

My God...at least it gives us something to talk about.

I am staying close to the fire today.
Thank God we went and got more wood last night.
I appreciate the irony of a transplanted Maritimer become BC girl...ending up in Manitoba...and living to whine about it.
Everyone here laughs and proclaim loudly and repeatedly that they would take the sun and frigid arctic temperatures over the rain ...but you can see the lie in their eyes.

Oh yes you can.

This cold hurts.

Truly.

Physical movement is painful and sitting in less than comfortable automobiles before they are sufficiently warm is a common occurrence: simply because, to let them warm up that long would compromise our contribution to air quality.

Not that anyone is really concerned about the atmosphere and global warming at -51 degrees.

I have a friend in England who is fascinated with our weather ( a true Canadian in his heart ..despite his British passport) and would just love to be traipsing about freezing his a** off...the novelty alone making it an adventure. He keeps abreast of our weather like someone else would follow the stock market or the hockey scores.

This rant is for him.

Speaking of Passion....

I am passionate about not living half of my life...
( half a year each and every year)
struggling to suppress my abhorrence for this type of cold.

I confess.

I have bad words inside my head...mixed up with maniacal laughter at the inevitability of it all.

I just had to prove I could do it...that I wasn't a wimp:

I could make it through a Manitoba winter and come out swinging...

The rafters in my family room are looking closer than ever....

Sigh...

IMHO...

Life is too short to spend such an inordinate amount of time talking about something that we have no control over except to the degree that we choose where we park our bodies on the map.

I want a new parking spot.

...and about our OCD-ishness on the weather...in this day and age we should have some sort of prescription med for that... some sort of medical diagnosis/analysis that gets me some relief.

Ok...I am freezing in my den...too long removed from the wood stove.

Excuse me....must go exercise my fortitude so as to endure another day... like a true Canadian...

Has anyone seen my leg warmers?

Nuthatches...Bush Bunnies and Other Assorted Creatures

2008-01-26T08:26:00.000-06:00

Dawn approaches but has not yet cracked the horizon.
All indicators are there...the reality moments away.
A nuthatch graces the perch of our bird feeder,
while a bush bunny nibbles at some branches under our trees.

My heart sings.

It's a new day.

This is my Father's world.

It proclaims loudly that he is good.

The trees from their lofty height sway to the music hidden in the wind.
The sky...an ever changing tapestry to his artistry.
His creatures...a tribute to his care and provision.

My thoughts today...gathered in from my current cares, are centered on this:

I am his daughter... he is a GOOD Father.

He delights in me.

A lone chickadee inspects the landscape from his seat in the oak tree.
Searching for competitors for those last bits of seeds remaining.
His flight is like a dance filled with dips and swoops.
"Look", my father says as he smiles, " They know where their source is."

Today I choose again.
To feast at His table.

"No good thing does he withhold...
O Lord Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you."( Ps. 84:11-12)

The sun has crested the horizon and a million frost crystals glimmer like jewels in it's light.

Ahhhhhh...

I so want to be a reflection of his light.
To absorb his beauty, and give it back to the world.

This is my prayer... to know you Lord...to love you...
to love those you love!

Look around today...
no...
Don't just look...

SEE.

The Lord... He IS good....

His mercy endures forever, his faithfulness reaches to the skies.

His care is extended to the least of all his creatures..
nuthatches, bush bunnies, chickadees...

... and ME.

How much more so are his eyes on those whom he has suffered and died for.
To those who he fashioned in his own image..
for the purpose of...

communion

love

SEE

Deconstructing

2008-01-22T16:12:00.000-06:00

Strolls down memory lane sound idyllic in theory but in practice can be more like facing the monster under the bed.

This week I took one.

Although figuratively speaking it was more of a headlong rush deep into the past. A free fall generated by a simple statement made by my husband on our sofa in front a warm fire cocooned in a blanket as an added barrier against the obscene cold of a -45 degree day.

The specific statement he made is irrelevant to this conversation...and the ensuing emotional rollercoaster ride of 3 days is not something I will burden you with.

Suffice to say it involved copious amounts of tears, heart felt healing prayer, repentance and a profound sense of release following decades of imprisonment.

How can it be that a 40 year old woman minding her own business, living life and walking daily with her maker..can be so long ensnared....trapped, deceived and blind?

I once heard someone describe our lives as a building of Jenga blocks. We go along...building each block one on top of the other. When crisis hits the building gets out of balance and threatens to fall over and we, with a driven instinct to survive, add wedges ( coping mechanisms) to the tower in order to support it... thus preventing total collapse.

As we get older, if we stood back we would see a tower of blocks slanting crazily this way and that supported at major points by these wedges.

As children we interpret our surroundings and experiences through immature eyes. If threatened we develop beliefs and coping skills to deal with and categorize the threat.
As we gain more experiences we shore up our beliefs.... throwing out things that do not match up...adding to what we can accept as true: based on our experiential knowledge.

Our beliefs strengthen and grow...because we feed them.

I can attest to the fact that while we spend the major part our formative years developing beliefs...God spends our mature years deconstructing them.

"Come let us return to the Lord. He has torn us to pieces, but he will heal us.
He has injured us, but he will bind up our wounds." Hosea 6:1

We are into self preservation from our conception.
Our instinct to survive is remarkable.

His desire for our restoration is stronger.
His love is deeper and more compelling.

Picture him systematically removing each wedge we created in order to keep our worlds from falling about our ears.

Deconstruction...followed by reconstruction.

As a seeker and believer in Jesus Christ...I have spent my life learning about him, learning to be like him, learning to love him and hear him.
At the same time I have discovered that I have in my heart and mind.... false gods that I serve in the name of God. Beliefs supported by childhood experience and fed for decades unknowingly.

I have served a god who abandons.
A god who is not kind.
A god who takes and demands.
One who teases and taunts and tests.
One who measures and finds wanting.

I have made vows to these gods.
I have offered sacrifices to these gods.
I have named them GOD.

A friend of mine explained it this way:

A match in a room fully lighted is unnoticeable.
A match in the dark is like the sun.

I have fully lit rooms inside...full of the glory of God.
I have dark rooms in the basement...in need of a match.

We humans have perfected the art of making god in our own image....or the image of those around us.
Thus the problem between people and the church today.
Equating God...with us....
What a mess.

Jesus said...if you have seen me you have seen the father.

Dream on people...I am so not there yet.
But I want to be.

The God of the bible....is good, kind, patient, loving, compassionate, forgiving, understanding.
If our actions or choices or beliefs support some other expression...

Well...the command : "thou shalt have no other gods before me", takes on a whole new relevance.

The God of the bible draws us forth with loving kindness...into the light.

In one random moment this week... he offered me a choice...exposed a dark room to the light of his love...identified the lie...
My part...a minor role in the scheme of things: was to acknowledge, repent and surrender...

He tore me open...tore down the tower...
He did all the work.
I just said yes.

I am exhausted.
But hopeful.
Trusting....in his knowledge of me, that he will complete the work he has begun.

He is who he says he is....
The journey of deconstructing continues...

He has the schedule...I just have to show up.

Stop.

2008-01-16T11:13:00.000-06:00

Stop.

That's all she said.

It was enough.

That word penetrated like nothing else could, the hardness in my heart brought on by:
too much sun, too little shade,
too much drought, too little rain
too much heat, too little strength
too much pressure, too little respite....
too many sand fleas..too little cover...
too many questions..too few answers.

Sometimes all it takes is a word.

One word.

To turn your world upside down.
Or should I say....right side up?

My prayers were ended.
My lips were silent.
My heart was still.
My mind empty.
My hands hanging.

For all intents and purposes.
To my limited understanding, this more than slightly resembles a dead person.

If you know me at all...you know I have confessed quite openly to being performance driven.
Something that is inherently woven into my DNA..and is being slowly and methodically killed off in my life.
Translate this innate behavior over into a relationship with the creator of the Universe and you get a girl of 40 years old... searching the scriptures/and the cosmos for ways to guarantee that my actions will add up to successful encounters with God ...and fantastic outcomes in my daily life as a result.

However...being human, my capacity for 100% consistency in the behaviors necessary to my mind, to guarantee the continuous flow of blessings of the Master of the Universe; this capacity?
Is severely limited.
Therein is my dilemma...
I am always searching for the reason..the error..the sin..that is hindering the flow.
The ever elusive key.
I see myself excavating a dig...( the internal landscape of my life) and continually bringing to the surface items unearthed ....and throwing them on this huge altar overseen by this massive, perfect, HOLY being.
I have my hands full as you can imagine.
I am covered with dirt.
I am sweaty.
I am sunburned.
I am exhausted.
I am a slave to the process.

The burden of self excavation is unbearable.
It cannot be borne for long.

It was not meant to be borne by me at all.

STOP.

My silent scream was: "I can't!"

Finally, yesterday I was so far gone...I could.

Yes...finally.

I could.

Stop.

God spoke.

Cheryle listened.

She relayed the message.

My mind was done.

My spirit was open.

I was able to be breached.

At my core I knew.

And accepted.

My life is a prayer.

NOT just my words.

I am not just IN Christ.
He is also IN me.

I live on the altar.
In the fire of the presence of God.
His holiness does the revealing.
The purifying.
The cleansing.
The living.
The dying.
The resurrecting.

Where ever I am.
What ever I am doing.

Yesterday I looked my life square in the eye.
Acknowledged it.
And went and watched a movie.
With a glass of wine.

I realize that the closer I get to God....the more I am aware of my machinations to manipulate him.
I don't come to him without strings.
I realize that I am trussed up with my desires, urges and expectations...my thirst for knowledge and understanding...
...of Right and Wrong.
I am bound by homesickness for God alone that is masked in a million ways of my own creating.
Only God can make me alive...and sustain that life.
I can't quicken myself.

STOP.

There is a passage in a book I read ages ago by Gene Edwards...called "The Choice" that gives imagery to this profound truth:

"...when she was least thinking of any purpose behind her supplications...something began happening within her. Like a fire at the edge of a field, (His) peace invaded a small corner of her soul....."

Yesterday I got it.

..and when I finally stopped.... something funny happened...

God didn't.

Quirks: Meme

2008-01-12T21:28:00.000-06:00

Tag I'm it.
There are rules to being it..here they are: on Kelly's Blog cause cut and paste is not working.

Quirky?
I think you have to tilt your head to the side when you say that word.
I am sorry.
In my head quirky and perky go together....probably because they rhyme...
it must be that because....wellllllllll...I can't be both.
Please don't anyone comment and tell me I'm perky.
Groan.
I just might have to hurt you!

Quirk #1: I have safe places for things that are important....and I still have no idea where I've put them. The solution, my long suffering husband says: is to keep a list of my safe places.
But to my mind that perpetuates the cycle: where would I keep the list? In a safe place of course..you see my dilemma.

Quirk #2: I rub my nose....it is always itchy...inside and out. I have allergies. I can stick my fingers up my nose and scratch my eye. Some would call it picking...semantics I say.

Quirk#3: I hit people. Seriously. Stand next to me and I will hit you while I am talking. Slap you on the shoulder...shove you...push you....all in love of course. However....I have been known
to do this with people I have just met. Sorry...if you are reading this and have a restraining order against me. It is unintentional. The truth is I am not aware of it until I am in the thick of it...or after.....

Quirk# 4 I say...ya know? A lot!

Quirk # 5 I am OCD-ish about spelling....it reminds me of splinters.

Quirk#6 I love removing splinters. The bigger the better. Now you know.

I have noticed with the passage of time that the weirdness/quirkiness increases.
Or my awareness...and acceptance of my idiosyncrasies...increases with age.
Either way...I am much more comfortable in my skin.

I tag Shawn and Cheryle.

Can We?

2008-01-12T15:51:00.000-06:00

I was talking to a friend on the phone today.
She was relating a story involving her youngest son, a hot frying pan, burnt fingers and a bad word. It is funny how we hone in on the bad word and the rest fades away.
Scenarios flood my mind from the past.
Where sins were addressed.
Mistakes and errors revealed, reviled and duly repented of.
My particular favorite:
Bad words washed out with soap.
Lies like wise.

How often were the actions addressed: and the heart left abandoned.

A person never acts without his heart.

We can't separate who we are from what we do.

We think....Bad people do bad things.

Right?

No matter what you say.....
This is what we believe.

We also say..bad things happen to good people....

They are two completely different worlds of thought.

Like...bad people who do bad things are actively pursuing the good ones
and good people are the ones that have those bad people doing bad things to them.

Good people never do bad things to others....
They would then be bad people.....

So...do good people live around other good people?
Is there some sort of Utopian club that exists....in some sort of Utopian neighborhood...
with Utopian pets who never dig in other good people's gardens...because that would be a bad thing happening to a good person...and there are no bad people around to do those things....soooooo

Hmmmmm.

And what are bad things anyways.
Those bad things that happen to good people?
Would that be...
Car crashes?
House fires?
Or maybe....
Robbery?
Rape?
Assault?
Murder?

And are the people responsible for these actions bad....or did bad things happen to good people say...weeks, months or years before..so that now a good person is doing something bad...

hmmmmmm.

What about sickness and disease?

Cancer.
bad thing.
Friend Mike.
Good man....good friend

ALS.
bad thing
Friend Stephen.
Good man...amazing father/husband/friend

Fibromyalgia
Chronic Fatigue.
Bad things
Kelly.
Awesome woman...great friend.

What about money?

Lots of bad things happen with and without money.
Check out the line at your local food-bank...tavern....casino..movie theatre
Check out your local malls.
Check out the credit counseling services online...or bankruptcy info websites.
Check your local eating establishments for emaciated starving children, oops right..that's Africa...Central America
Walk the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver....or pick your city.
Watch your Pastor friend struggle to make ends meet...while his wife works full time and runs the Sunday School...while working Sunday afternoons at her regular job.

Debt.
Bankruptcy.

Bad things.

Good people?
Bad people?

Shit.

The new racism...is not one born of color or nationality.

It is born of wealth...and the lack there-of.

The separation is getting wider and wider.
Differentiation.
Segregation.
No need for signs saying: "poor not welcome"....the prices prohibit by themselves.
Haves and Have Nots.
Successful...and Not.
Self made....both ways?

Right and wrong.

Good and bad.

Damn.

You know...you write.... you listen...you bleed...you wonder out loud.

Is anyone listening?

Does anyone care?

What is this thing that we have become?

What do we want?
What is the deal?

We want to live.

Real.
Raw.

Intimate.

Questioning.

Is this working?

There are an awful lot of people out there who are sporting burned fingers and speaking bad words. Full of pain and anger. Possessing hearts and souls. I don't think a cake of Ivory soap for all it's 99% pure qualities will do the trick.

More than marriages are breaking up in todays cultural chaos.

The ability to have intimate, connected...sharing...common..community is fading like perfume on the wind. We are disconnecting from each other at a rapid rate. It has been increasing..this decay...eroding at the framework of our world....and our lives.

Ah...the great deception.
Separation.
Preservation.
Death.

Ah the greatest truth.
Communion.
Unity.
Life.

can we do it?
reverse the trend?
stop the isolating paralysis?
come together?
rescue?
nourish?
touch?
share?

live?

love?

can we?

Post-mortem

2008-01-11T10:04:00.000-06:00

Depressed?
Ya think?

According to Webster's Dictionary, depressed is defined as the following:

1. low in spirits: sad esp: affected by psychological depression.

check

2. vertically flattened

check

3. having the central part lower than the margin.

my center today is definitely lower than the margin. check.

4. lying flat or prostrate

my face bears the marks of a hardwood floor imprint. check.

5. being below the standard.

I am so far below...the standard is out of sight. check.

Post-mortem....after death.

I have figured something.
Death immortalizes.
Values skyrocket.
Someone not seeming so worthy in life..takes on perfection, value..significance, after they die.
And they can make a lot of money!

Who the hell thought that up?

Where is he?
I hope he's dead....cause I'd be serving time if I found out he was a neighbor.

There's money in dying.

Just ask Elvis...or Picasso...Monet... or Freddy Mercury.

Just ask Jesus.

They're raking in the dough... boy have they got it made.

post-mortem.

tilt.

God.

I can't stand it.

I had a raving conversation...no..lets be honest... MONOLOGUE.. with my maker today.

Questioning the value of my life..in comparison to the prospect of the value of my death.

Is there value only to be found in me after I die?

Cause I am dying here.
I know I am.

We can talk all we want about making all the right moves...choices..decisions...
Sowing good things to reap the profit.
I made it cause I did it right.
Look...I am worth...this much $$$$$$$... I have this many...( fill in the blanks)..I am set for life..my retirement package is all tied up with a bow...sweet.

Proof...of a life worthwhile.

If that is it..then I am worthless.
Nothing.
Less than nothing.

Post-mortem is the only way.

It's amazing.

Jesus..while he lived:
Turned an entire world against him...
bad PR manager.
Had no place to lay his head...
sorry excuse for a real-estate agent.
Was completely misunderstood...
needs better communication skills.
Was betrayed by a friend....
wrong clique.
Was denied by another while in jail....
bad choice of drinking buddies.
Was slaughtered....
terrible mentoring.

When alive he did many extraordinary things.

He saved lives.
He healed.
Loved with passion.
He forgave.
He rescued.

The leaders of his day?
The ones playing for the same team? (( so it was published))
They killed him for it.

His value increased...POST MORTEM.

He's a money maker now.

So it seems.

You know the bottom?

Where we all end up?

Well I am lying on my back staring up at it.

I am in a wasteland of belief.

The funny thing is...

I do.

Still believe that is.

See nothing has changed.

God is God.

I am me.
My situation is ....what it is.
No job.
No money.
Debt.
Bills.
Shame.
Guilt.
Despair.

Post-mortem looks good.

Then I think.

Sometimes it's easier to die for what you believe.....than to live for it.

Jesus dying didn't start on the cross....it started long before.

TRUTH!

His value was not in death...his value was in him from his inception, no matter what anyone else said or did.

The same goes for me.

and you....

Today I know that no matter what happens...no matter how it looks to anyone...

Value and worth have been bestowed eternally upon me by the one who made me..at my inception.....

Before I was in my mother's womb...HE KNEW ME...((Psalm 139))

My life looks all in the red today...not a good thing according to other sources...

I like to think that in God's view of things, it is exactly true.

The blood of one....
For the lives of all....

Today...I am going to exhaust the red....dive deep in it....

What Are You Looking At?

2008-01-09T13:54:00.000-06:00

The first question that popped into my head upon awaking this morning was just that.
What are you looking at?

We live in a generation of self-help, pop psychology..and pay millions of dollars for hours of therapy...and medicate when the self help and therapy doesn't work.

Please hear me.
All meds aren't wrong.

Therapy is good.

Read...discover...acknowledge...change.

Although...
It can all become very self absorbing.
Very quickly.
I know.
From Experience.
I am seriously analytical for being such a creative person.
I think I am what they call mixed dominance.

I live deep.

Sometimes I forget however..that the depths I exist in are in God not myself.....

I become the focus..exploring, analyzing..investigating..excavating.

This morning I had a clear view of myself...self-help just took on a whole new aura.

It is IMPOSSIBLE.

See the ancient text tells us that Jesus..the Christ..the Son of God..the savior, redeemer of all mankind...HE is the author..and finisher of my faith.

HE wrote me.
HE knew my beginnings....he knows the plot line and he knows the end of the tale.

It says in the same passage right before this that I am to FIX my eyes on Jesus.

Whew.

I have a friend who is for all intents and purposes, in his last week of life.
He is dying of ALS.
I read his blog today.
One of the comments left by a friend was a story of how silver is refined.
This was in reference to a passage in Malachi 3:3 which states that:
" ...he sits like a refiner of silver..."
Research into the refining process reveals that a silversmith holds the silver in the center of the fire where it is the hottest. He cannot leave the silver but must remain during the whole process..never taking his eyes off the silver..which can be destroyed if left in the fire a moment too long. When asked how one knows when the process is complete, the silversmith replies:

'That's easy...when I see my reflection in it."

oh God!

This morning....God reminded me that he is the reason for my being.

He is the refiner.

I am in his care.

He is watching over me.

He started the whole process and oversees it to its completion.

In my over analytical...compulsive need to verify where I am and how I am doing... to solidify my position...and give reason to my life, I sometimes forget what it is all about.

What am I looking at?

Me???????

I am not that good looking!

I need to change my focus.

I need to allow him to do what he does best.

Let him get on with it...and stop messing around in his business.

Easy and light...that's what he said.

My friend Stephen...whose body is decaying by the second?
What do you say?
Where is my analysis now?
What am I looking at?
I don't know!

I know what I want.

I want him restored.
I want him healed.
NOW!

What am I seeing?

Where am I looking?

The only place left to look.
In the eyes of the one who has gone before.
Those are his footprints leading off into the distance.
I can't guarantee the terrain, the weather or the duration of the journey or the state of my body at the end.
Do I truly mean it when I say:
"Where he leads I will follow?"
or...." I surrender all"
What about the Kevin Prosch song we all belted out back in the day...
" When you've been broken..broken to pieces... and you crush me like a rose..."

In a world fraught with identity theft it is no wonder we seek to make our mark..to not be invisible..to establish ourselves...to become more and more concrete. We are conditioned by our environment.

Somebody please look at me.
Please see me.

As I am looking at Stephen....through this fiery...gut wrenching...earth shaking time...he is becoming more and more transparent.
Less and less substantial.
But the God he looks to...trusts in..wrestles with...is becoming more and more visible.

I can't imagine his journey. I only watch from a distance.
Crying. Praying. Hoping.
I can't fathom his pain. I only see the results.
The stuff of nightmares.

So... at the end of the day...in the last possible moments of a precious life...
can we ask with true passion...
What are you looking at?
...and crave to hear the answer....

I am looking at Jesus.

Stephen...that's what I see.

Out of the Ashes

2008-01-05T08:08:00.000-06:00

Almost every morning, upon arising, the chore of taking out the ashes awaits me.
Living in Manitoba with a wood stove...you understand why.
It is burning day and night.
Constantly.
Perpetually.
It is cold.
Here.
Kelly stop laughing.

Burning that much wood ...the ashes build up quickly.
Although by 7am it seem that it is all ash, as I shovel it out into our 5 gallon pail, there are always embers remaining. Not once have I awoken to find the fire completely gone out.

That gives me hope.

The dawn this morning was incredible...scarlet and flaming pink filled the sky.
The taller trees on our property are swaying in the wind...and the wind is warmer than usual.
The weather report for the following two weeks looks promising ( fingers crossed). It seems as if we will be getting the proverbial January thaw.

Dare I hope?

In the Book Hinds Feet on High Places ( Hannah Hunnard) the main character Much Afraid, on her journey with the Shepherd to the High Places, is always scraping together her little rebellions and fears into an altar and offering them up. The pile gets consumed by fire and she is left with a pebble in the ashes. She collects these pebbles along her journey to remind herself of the Shepherd's faithfulness to his promises, and to remind herself of what she has laid down.
Upon reaching the last leg of her journey she finds herself in a valley with an altar laid out before her. She discovers that the final act of obedience requires the full surrender of her need for human love...and acceptance. This sacrifice takes more that she can do herself so she asks to be bound to the altar and the priest of the altar reaches into her heart to tear out the weed of human love. After she awakens in a cave..she pours out all her pebbles..raked from the ashes of her surrender and they are jewels..treasure beyond measure.

What was I thinking ....that Christ could face the cross..in the garden and struggle til he sweat blood..saying not my will..but thine be done...and what..I get to blithely enter into the will of God with very little effort? Minor sacrifice..discomfort...and pain?
Jesus..who knew no sin..became sin...took it all on...bore it for all to see...so I could hide...keep things secret...pretend...succeed...prove I was good and worthy...of fame fortune..full of talent..wisdom and grace...

James Langteaux, in the book God.net reminds us that God says in his word to:
"take up your cross daily...not your golf bag... and follow him."
Am I doing that?
Following Him?
Or am I re-writing the script?
How much has been lost on the editing floor?
Is the movie nothing like the book?
God have mercy!

Can it be done?
As Sigmund Brouwer puts it in the title of his book:
" Can the Real Jesus Still Be Found?"

That's what we are called to.
Did you ever ask the question...
Where was Jesus going?
Can I follow?
Am I following?
What is my cross?
Is it an altar?

What does this mean for my life?

Doesn't look too promising....sounds terribly uncomfortable.

The cross wasn't the end however...

Out of the ashes of death...of surrender....there emerged a treasure beyond all treasure.

There emerged a blazing trail...

Back.

Talk about a treasure map.

There is a way back...to complete communion with God our Father.

That which was lost.
Is found.
Again.
That which was stolen.
Is restored.
That which was broken.
Reforged.
What died.
Lives.

Yes?

YES!

So today...I scrape together my petty rebellions...my fears...my will...

On the altar.

I surrender.

And trust from the ashes....he will bring forth treasure of his making, his design...

Lasting treasure.

And tomorrow..and tomorrow and tomorrow...

Through the fire..out of the ashes...

Following...

Him.

You've Read the Book...Now See the Movie

2008-01-04T08:54:00.000-06:00

Have you read the book?
I have.
Cover to cover.
Many times over.
I've read it myself.
I've had others read it to me.

Compelling stuff.

Read the book and you get it all.
Sci-Fi, fantasy...angels and demons..other worlds.
Romance...betrayal...adultery....lust and murder.
Action, adventure, treasure...
The setting covers gardens, deserts, mountains and seashores..and caves and lions dens and fiery furnaces.
There are board room intrigues...throne room debaucheries, home births in barns.
Throw in a couple menopause babies and random muggings, and miracles and great epic poems.
On the down side there are a few boring genealogies...sorry.
Back on the upside..don't forget the classic underdogs... and the bad guys get it in the end.

It's a best seller.
It's also banned in several countries around the world.
People die for possessing this book.
They also die hopeless without it.

The movie?

We're living it.

Don't you hate it when the movie is nothing like the book?

I have known this book as long as I can remember.
Portions of it are deeply embedded in my psyche.

How can it be that at 40 I am still wrestling?

With the author no less?

I believe the author..I do.
He is all knowing after all.

What I am trying to figure out is why I feel like I live in a perpetual exam room.
Like every waking moment is a test to see if I got it right.
If I could just get the proper combination of humility, faith, confession, action, generosity, forgiveness and love.
If I could just get them in the proper order, in the right sequence...in the right amounts..then the magic door would open....and I could rest.

Peace...is illusive today....but no worries...Hope still exists.
The sun is up..the birds are at the bird feeder..the fire is crackling merrily in the wood stove...
My husband is out of work...the bank account is empty...the credit cards are maxed...
Oh...is this too much information?

This is the setting of my movie....today.

Or is it?

We so easily define ourselves and others by what we can see.
They are holidaying in Maui....
They are building a new home...
They are splitting up...
He is dying of...
That church is growing...
That church is not...
They are succeeding...
They are failing...
What did they do right?
What did they do wrong?

Which is your movie?
What does your set look like?

Drama drama drama....

enough with the drama...

we all have our secrets.
we all have our hidden places.
places no one sees.

I would prefer to keep them hidden.

I hate the thoughts of someone out there saying...see I told you it wouldn't work for them..they are doing it all wrong. If only they had done it our way..If only they had listened. They got just what they deserved. Maybe now they will come around.

Too late.

The secret is out.

The movie is just like the book.

It's a tell all.

What do I have to lose?

What do I believe?

I believe the author....not necessarily the actors.
I believe the director...not the critics.
The creator....not the crew.
The lead not the leading lady...

What is in my way...blocking my view...skewing my perspective...is myself.

Kim Clement says that in order for a person to have insight you must first go blind.

Today I choose to go blind.

The story...the book... it is a love story.
Everyone loves a love story.

I forgot... this morning...that it was.

There are two lead parts in the story.
The lover...and the beloved.

The lover doesn't meet his beloved in a swanky Hollywood Hotel...after her daily massage, manicure, hair appointment and shopping spree on the boulevard.

He meets her in the desert...sleeping with his enemy...smelling of incense offered to other gods.

She failed.
The exam.
Completely.

He took her back to himself...again and again.
He pursued her.
He wooed her.
He wrapped her in himself.
He transformed her...with love.

The center.
The lover.

The key to my soul.

The key to the peace that seems so illusive today.

I believe.

He is big enough.
Beautiful enough.
Pure enough.
Generous enough.
Kind enough.
Love enough.....

I can fall into him...
And hopefully...after all these years...see what he sees...
It must be something incredible...something beyond comprehension...

I have to close my eyes.

In order to truly see.

what is...

Read the book....

Check out the movie....you're in it...playing opposite the lead.

Its a blockbuster.

Guaranteed.

believe.....

2008-01-02T12:36:00.000-06:00

Lately it's all I can do.

Sounds oversimplified doesn't it?

Sounds a lot like "faith"...and there we go... everything gets a little more complex.

That's when I start to twitch.

The problem is not whether or not I believe....

I do.

Believe.

So does every single human on the planet.

Believing is as easy as breathing.

It's not whether or not I believe.

It's what I believe.

Each of us has a believing tree. It grows in the garden of our life.

Our believing tree is strong and hardy.
It gets fed daily and is tended to with great care.

Our beliefs are strong.
Our beliefs are mighty.
Our beliefs can kill.

The believing tree has a central trunk that separates into two main branches.
The main support of the tree is labeled GOD...the secondary branch is labeled ME.

Everything else grows out from these two branches.

Today, with technology expanding so rapidly and communication from around the word at your fingertips...we are bombarded with millions of voices telling you what they believe.

They will also tell you what they don't believe..which is really another sort of inverted believing anyways.

Again..there is no question of believing.
If you live....you believe.

How's that working for you?

I've said it all my life.

We spend an inordinate amount of time telling ourselves, others and even God what we believe. We spread it around like manure on a field and watch over it to see what grows out of the mess. Is that a weed or wheat growing there...can't tell yet..wait a while....
Shit...it's a weed.
Well who knew?
Let's try again.
Have you ever seen the maniacs digging dandelions out of their yard..muttering dreadful incantations...and bellowing colorful metaphors the next day as a new one breaks through the verdant green paradise of their perfectly manicured lawn?

Sigh.

What are we doing?
What am I doing?

More to the point..what is God doing?

For any of you who have teenagers...don't you just love the stage where every response is prefaced with the words..."I know...mom....or I know dad"
You haven't even completed a statement...you open your mouth and they already KNOW.
The crazy thing is..they really, truly, honestly, believe they KNOW.
Go figure.
Tilt.

I admit...I get very sarcastic and inquire all the time of my sons...
" Is this the day you know everything and I know nothing...cause I didn't get the memo."

Who do we think God is..that we tell him...and it is so?

Now...we must believe something.
Fundamentally all belief originates around God..and ourselves.
Since he has the best seat..the best view...I am betting on what HE believes being the real deal.
He has the most bang for the bucks.

A question I ask myself regularly is..not so much what I believe..but what I want to believe.

I don't want a lawn full of dandelions.
I don't want a garden full of weeds.
I don't want a field full of thistles and thorn bushes.

I don't want to be wrong.
I don't want to be sick.
I don't want to die sick and wrong.

And I sure don't want to believe I am right..when I am wrong.
That's just stupid.

I want to live.
I want to believe the truth....about everything.

The truth..walked the planet in the flesh.
The truth was mocked.
The truth was tempted, hungry, lonely,misunderstood,misrepresented, threatened, ridiculed..the truth was lied about, put on trial and put to death.

The truth lives.

Believe it.

It will bend to no man or evil force.
It does not conform.
The truth transforms.
The truth impacts....it is not impacted.

I believe.

I don't have words to SAY..all that I believe..it's more like a free-falling continuous believing.
Where the wind of truth adjusts me as I fall into believing...and it is a perpetual fall until I draw my last breath. I will not make a temple out of my beliefs. I don't want to go back to being a teenager.

And there is joy.

This is where the peace passes understanding.

Understanding is subjective.
Real peace passes it.

The tree in the garden....is not one of knowledge..or understanding...that brings death.
The tree in the garden is Life.....

Love believes ALL things (1Corinthians 13)

Do you believe in love?

Take the leap..free fall...

believe.

A Girl Called Kelly

2007-12-31T18:19:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time....there she was... hair all around...in your face...raw..real...
She was just there..on my landscape... and she took up a lot of space.

Moving from Nova Scotia to British Columbia is not for the faint of heart.
Moving with two boys under the age of 2 is not for the sound of mind.
Who ever said I was sane?
Maybe that's why we get each other so well.
There she was...there I was..there we were..the rest as they say...is history...
Or more like...eternity!

15 years later I am reading her blog Spontaneous Deliberation and I am barely breathing.

Truth teller.
Crusader.
Sojourner.
Prophet.
Friend.

When is it time?
When do we get it.
Life is about telling the truth.
Bringing out our secrets.
Turning on the light.
What are we afraid of?

This is not about a trade off.
We don't keep it all together, maintain our reputations...for God... or each other.
He is not a vending machine.
He is not a gum ball machine.
We can never put in enough coins....
Where do we get the coins anyways?
Counterfeiting is against the law.
We do it all the time.
We make our own currency:

Forgiveness for healing:
a trip down memory lane forgiving 4 that I can remember, for 10 years pain free...please

Tithing for Wealth:
10 % investment for a profit of 300% PLEASE!

Worship for a renewal:
5 songs of intimacy on Sunday morning for a "get out of my depression for a day" card....

I'll have combo 5 please...super sized!

Let me just get my wallet.

God... we have turned you into a drive-thru.

Why don't you just do another Sodom ?
Fire and brimstone anyone?
Re-runs are the thing now-a-days.

What do we think?
He's withholding?
Why?
What can I give him?
To change his mind?

God is not me...he's not us...
He's not on a power trip...trying to make a little profit on the side.
He doesn't need anything else.
He owns all there is.

Our view of God is screwed.

But ... that's never stopped him.

Kelly?

His.

Totally.

I see things.

All the time.

I know that I know that in spite of all my crap... he still shows me things from his point of view.
It's like I am standing with my face right in his and the deeper I look into his eyes, the more I see from his perspective.

Kelly.

I can barely breathe when I think of how he sees her.

Beautiful.

CAPTIVATING.

Passionate.

ReAl....real.. r E a L

Her limitations. Facts. Have no bearing on the truth of who she is.
Her humanity. Fact. Has no influence on his design....
His commitment to her remains.
He is undaunted.
His lavish love overcomes.
...she lives...and moves and has her existence in LOVE.

Love NEVER fails.

Never.

Fails.

Us.

Even if we think we are failing him.

The two are mutually exclusive.

Kelly?

She's my hero.

And I can hear her laughter, all the way over here in snowy, cold Manitoba....

She's my girl.

Hanging by a Moment

2007-12-29T15:04:00.000-06:00

It's that time of day.

Actually, when I think about it both 3am and 3pm have a lot in common...in the winter at least.

At 3am, the night is spent yet still hangs on for dear life as if threatening to stay forever, refusing to relinquish itself to the dawn... refusing to give way to the rising sun...
...but the dawn will not be vanquished...it cannot be held back.

At 3pm...especially in the winter...it feels like the day is spent....evening approaches as the sun seems to struggle to remain above the horizon, but the dark encroaches from the east ever advancing...as the light ever retreats to the western horizon.

The same goes for the tides..and the seasons.

Enacted in amazing imagery all around us is the dance of death and life.
Light warring with dark.
Winter with Spring.
Summer with Autumn.
Birthing with dying.
The past with the future.
Day with night.

Life is amazing..full of second chances.
Chances to get it right.
Chances to regroup.
Chances to reform.
Chances to reclaim.
Chances to renew.

The cycle continues.

The cycle can take years.
Or weeks.
Or a day.
Or a moment.

a moment

yes

Eternity can be captured in a moment in time.

I had such a moment today.

In that moment something shifted.

I have no words to tell you why, or how.

It was unsought.
It was unearned.
I was unprepared.
I am forever changed.

It's that simple.
That easy.

It is.

I realize that as a performance driven individual I miss so many of these moments.
My reason gets in the way.
My intellect obscures.
My pride prevents.

Winter is a great month for introspection....but even that can get in the way.
Self interpretation...still focuses on self.

I am realizing that in the flow of life more is accomplished in me when my focus is not on me.

More is accomplished through me as well.

The big picture is comprised of a million little pitures.

Life is composed of millions of moments...eternity filled moments

Believe.

Let it be.

Enjoy your moments.

They are larger on the inside than they appear.

My God...Your God

2007-12-28T08:43:00.000-06:00

These days my inner life resembles a battlefield.
My mind is constantly under assault.
Old habits die hard.
Old enemies, a familiar presence, entertained with a twisted sort of intimacy.

I feel like Much Afraid on her journey to the High Places(Hinds Feet on High Places) as she stares at the path in front of her that leads into the desert....this is not what you promised...this path cannot lead to your promises! The Shepherd asks her to trust him implicitly even when it looks like he is lying.

My problem is not so much that I think God is lying.
It lies in the fact that my definition, my persepctive, my portrait, of God... is twisted and distorted.

Re-building the fire each morning is a job I enjoy.
The coals can be tiny and hidden among the mounds of ash....but it only takes a few and a breath of air to bring the fire back to conflagration.
As I add kindling and breathe on the coals and pull out the damper to allow more air in, the fire leaps into being again. The difference between the winking embers and the roaring blaze is less than half a minute.
Food for thought!
Daily.
My despair can melt away in the face of such imagery.
Breath of God breathe on me.

Recently I realized that the coals in my heart were burned down to almost nothing, and that a cycle was emerging: Inspiration, passion,waiting, hope,wearying and despair.

Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.

What was missing is: ACTION

Why?
It is killing me.
Slowly but surely.
This cycle is chronic. terminal. fatal.

This morning before the fire I realized why.

The fault lies with the God I serve.

Shocked?
Please don't call.
I haven't fallen off the edge quite yet.

Repeat.
The fault lies with the God I serve.

Kim Clement has a book: Call Me Crazy But I'm Hearing God.
He talks in this book about the difference between God's intentions and his actions.

Intentions.

Actions.

Separate and distinct from one another.

Why?

Why does God not do what he intends?

Because the key to them being one and the same lies with me.

ME

me

mE

Me

Moi.....

It is all about me....Rick Warren was wrong...((grin))

Choice.

I choose.

From the beginning it has always been so.

God intends.....man chooses....God acts.

Confession time.

Today I saw the God I serve.
He is a teacher.
He has a big pen.
He has a big score pad..a big measuring stick....
He doesn't grade on a curve.

I live like I have to measure up.
I perform my heart out for good grades.
I need to make the deans list to be worthy.
I create a series of standards in my own mind... and am immobilized unless they are reached.
The God I serve cannot accept anything less.
Than perfection.

And I am not.

Perfect.

God.

It is so sick and twisted.
It is so arrogant.

I'll allow that God can use anyone else in any form....but me.
See I know me.
I live with me.
I know my humanity.
I am failing.
I am fallen.
I can't get up.
But I try.
On my own.
To be my own savior.

I live guilty. Of underachieving.
I live fearful. Of failure.
I guarantee both.
I choose.

It is never enough.

IT NEEDS TO STOP.

This is my God.

It is NOT God.

Thus are God's intentions thwarted.... in me.
His actions however...bring me round again...back to his intentions....thank God.

He remains constant.
Faithful.
Sacred.
Waiting.
Loving.

I need the furnace of Shadrach..Meshach and Abednego.
I need Daniels's lions den.
I need Paul's Damascus road.

My God is killing me in the name of GOD.

So here I am.
40.
Forty.
Four ZERO.
Yes forty years old!!!!
The New Year approaches with alarming speed.
2008.

I am done. undone.

Will the real God please step forward.

This model is counterfeit.
I surrender it.
Gladly.
With relief.
There will be no more command preformances.
The show is cancelled.
finito.

Repeat: will the real God please step forward.

The God who made me.

He doesn't do bad art.
He doesn't accept the critics reviews.
He uses what he makes.
He loves what he does.
He finishes what he started.

He never FAILS.

my GOD?

Exactly.

He...is all about...me.

The wo-MAN in the Mirror

2007-12-24T22:39:00.000-06:00

I write from life.

Difficult not to, when life is just begging to be transcribed.

The good, the bad and the underbelly of life begs to be reiterated, regurgitated and re-constituted into something of value. Something lasting. Something truly beautiful.

Who am I?

The question begs asking from the first moment an infant gazes into the eyes of its parent.
A mother carries a child in her womb, under her heart for nine months.
Simply put: they are one...and yet they are not.

It takes a while for an infant to focus after birth.
Dazed and confused doesn't quite cover it I imagine.

Out of the comforting womb where there were no demands whatsoever, the baby arrives abruptly into a foreign environment. Senses engage. Synapses fire.
The quest for identity begins.

We humans see everything around us as reference points.
Points that tell us where we are, what we are and who we are.

That is that so this must be this..not that.
They are there, and those others are over there...so I must be here.

Navigating life becomes kind of like navigating by the stars.

The problem is...and a big problem it is...

...is that the reference points we use are not fixed.

Not anchored securely.

Not constant.

They are always moving, changing..transforming.

They are unreliable, even at the best of times.

This causes major disasters on the journey of life , as you can well imagine.

Put it into a nautical framework, or an aeronautical framework and watch the flaming infernos fill the seas and skies.

The ancient scriptures tell us that:

"Those who compare themselves, among themselves, are not wise."

And yet we soldier on, plotting our courses by the "stars" in our heavens:

Our parents.
Our siblings.
Our friends.
Our enemies.
Our colleagues.
Our heroes.
Our teachers.
Our selves.

Self discovery is devastating.
Either way.
Discovering strength can devastate excuses.
Discovering limitations can devastate arrogance.
Discovering compassion can devastate ambivalence.
Discovering truth can devastate perspective.

For us it will always be the struggle for self expression, the unveiling of our true selves.
The peeling back of our skins, layers, petals.

C.S Lewis displayed profound wisdom when he described Eustace being freed by Aslan from his Dragon suit.(Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader)
Eustace, ( who up until this point had been an arrogant pain in the ass,always complaining or whining and never having a problem recommending himself as an expert on every front to anyone who would listen) has transformed into a dragon and was asked by Aslan if he wanted to be free. Eustace affirms this as his hearts desire and Aslan proceeds to dig in a claw and strip Eustace layer by layer.
The last layer is the most excrutiating... agonizing... and incapacitating, yet it is in that moment that freedom is gained. Eustace is reborn, still retaining some of his aggravating qualities...but reborn none the less.

All that to say this.

We cannot liberate ourselves.

We are never done.

And neither is the person in front of us.

To compare our positions and chart our course from one another is futile and more likely than not to cause a major collision. Our interpretation of information is flawed. We are walking wounded. We need an ever fixed mark from which to navigate.

We need a clear line of vision.
We need a different reflection.

We need our maker.

Self loathing, self hatred, self confidence, self worth.

All generated by self.

All self imposed.

All inherently flawed.

We are visually and physically and spiritually impaired.

If you need assistance press * for more options.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Eustace saw himself reflected in a pool of water.
He was a dragon.
Aslan saw the boy underneath.
The boy believed Aslan, not his reflection.
He turned from the pool.
Gazed into the face of the Lion.
The reflection changed.

Love is NOT blind... it truly sees... it sees...TRULY!

What do you see?
Where are you looking?
What manner of looking glass do you gaze into?
To whom do you compare?

Mom?
Sister?
Friend?
Yourself as you once were...are now or imagine yourself to be?

Somedays...all I see is the dragon. I can almost smell the smoke.

But I am learning to navigate wisely.
I am learning to gaze into the eyes of my maker and allow him to reflect back to me: his view.

Mine is too subjective.
Too indeterminate.
Too inconstant.

Self discovery is deadly.
Painful.
Liberating.

More and more frequently I am finding my true self mirrored in his eyes.
Authentic.
Whole.
Beautiful.

It is a challenge daily to change my point of view.
It takes incredible effort.
Deliberate actions.
Concrete decisions.

Who am I?

I am who he says.

And I am her NOW and forever.....

Prior Engagement..Previous Committment

2007-12-17T16:55:00.000-06:00

I was asking God for wisdom the other day.
You would think this is a daily occurrence, being the mother of four young men… and you would be right.
However, there are specific moments…seasons or stages that require more delicate surgery. The scalpel must be sharp and the cuts, precise. This involves more than practical wisdom…more like divine words mixed with divine atmosphere and angelic intercession.
It takes this to raise a child to respectful manhood.
God help us all.

Thank God he does.

Poetry book in hand, my eldest reclines with one leg over the arm of the chair next to the fire.
Percy Bysshe Shelley is on tap. A wounded man to be sure.
The topic of manhood comes up, with all it attending topics… dating, divorce…affairs and so on and so forth.
This is ample fodder for the teenage mind…and deep waters for mother dear.
Statistics are against us.
This is the information generation.
The kids of today know far more than I do…and have experienced far more of the Dark Side than I ever will.
Visually and experientially.
So what do you tell a seventeen year old?
How do you challenge him?
How do you motivate him?

With Jesus.

Of course.

For sure.

But how?

The consummate lover.

I stood leaning against the railing looking down into my family room at my son and the words flowed….

Out there somewhere is a girl.
Your future wife.
She is yours…already.
You are hers.

Live it.

Rise each morning…talk to your maker about her.
Call her forth.
Love her.
Bend your back to hard work for her.
Bend your mind to education and study.
Pour out your heart for her.
Search out the heart of God.

Pray.

Love.

Before.

As if.

She was fully yours and you were hers.

As I write this my heart leaps.
I know this is the center of truth.
This is how God is with us.

Loved…before.

Before we knew.

Completely.

Each sunrise…a spectacular display.
Each sunset a kaleidoscope.
Each flower a captivating aroma…
Each waterfall a cascade…an outpouring.

Tell her…write to her… tell her that you loved her long before you met her.
Hold yourself ready… to lavish love upon her.
Keep yourself ready…to receive her love.
Do not stray.
Fix your mind and heart and body on this one thing.
On your beloved.

The lover is constant…ever ready...anticipating.
Can’t you feel it?
You know it.
Deeper in.
Farther in.

Breathe.

There it is…

I saw it.
The moment it clicked.
Behind his eyes.
The sorrow first.
Of so much time passed...and spent on self.
The gravity of the moment...I am not my own.
The brightness of the future...have you seen my beloved?

It was all there…

And then…arms wrapped tightly around me …he thanks me.
And I breathe deep….a divine breath to be sure.

For this I was born…for this I was made.

My son can now say:

“Sorry, I have a prior engagement…a previous commitment….no I don’t know her…but I am still committed to her. She has my heart….and I have hers.
I am my Father’s son.”

The Truth about Juanita

2007-12-13T20:19:00.000-06:00

Noah.

I have been thinking about Noah lately.

And Elijah.

And David.

And Gideon.

But primarily Noah and Elijah.

I am reading this book.

I am always reading a book.

((((side note)))

Those of you who know me well know that beside my bed is a stack of books overflowing and sprawling on, under and around my bedside table.

The library .

I love it.

Seriously.

I get books out and can't even read them all.

I get them out because I can.

I plan to read them all at some point in my life.

But just having the ability to request them and have them arrive...wow!

Picking them up and stacking them beside my bed..knowing that somehow they will impact my life...they are like good friends...provoking friends...but friends none the less.

I love the possibilities.

Libraries.

And second hand book stores.

Rapture. Divine. Euphoria.

ok..moving right along.

This book: GOD.COM (James Langteaux)

It gives me goosebumps...

total wreckage.

You know that statement in that movie..with that guy who married Katie Holmes..you know..the one where he is that soldier..lawyer person..who is defending two young soldiers and he is questioning that other famous guy..who played in one of the Batman movies..you know...ummm...Jack Nicholson... who has this line that is now famous and is overused by many guys when facing down the women in their lives:

the line that goes:

" You want the truth???? You can't handle the truth!!!!!!"

Well.

I am starting to believe him.

Not only can't I handle the truth.

I am not quite sure if I can tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth...even to myself.

See... I am too attached.

To my family.

To my friends.

To my comforts.

To my reputation.

To myself.

Hence my focus on Noah.

One against the entire world.

ENTIRE.

Complete.

Total.

Today that would be 1:6billion.

And I hate it when the dog doesn't like me.

This book has me over a barrel.

It is all about believing....what we believe about ourselves..and God.

And it is honest.

Brutally honest.

Uncomfortably honest.

ShOcKiNgLy HoNeSt.

Convictingly honest.

DAMN HONEST.

deadly honest

It is killing me.

It is resurrecting me.

God cannot inhabit a lie.

I have discovered many lies rooted within me.

established.

flourishing.

reproducing.

They are lies about me.

They are lies about God.

A friend called today and read me a quote from another great book: Irresistable Revolution.

We got talking some more and he asked: but how do we do it???

How do we reconcile this and merge this with what we are already doing?

This is an age of remodeling and renovating.

We can totally gut a house and leave the foundation and frame intact and renovate almost anything.

Rarely is there total demolition...

A complete removal.

Hence my focus on Elijah.

On the mountain.

With the bad dudes.

All the other prophets of the MOST HIGH had already been slaughtered.

Not good odds.

Builds an altar to re-establish the foundations of Israel in the face of their years of Baal worship.

( at this time the lines between the Israelites and worshipers of Baal were blurred)

Stands there while gallons of water are poured on the altar and the wood and the sacrifice until the water fills the trench around the whole thing.

When the fire comes...nothing is left standing...not even the stones.

This is where the truth about Juanita comes into play.

I make sacrifices.

I throw my sins on the altar.

I offer up many things to God.

I make sure the fire doesn't get out of hand.

I wear oven mitts.

I don't want to be demolished.

Undone.

Consumed.

Unmade.

I don't like dying.

Death by fire..... is not my cup of tea as my youngest would put it.

I like mergers.

Blending.

Creaming ingredients together.

Shading..

You get the picture.

The guy in God.com puts forth the idea that we CANNOT give up our idols independently.

We are too firmly attached.

They have their claws deeply embedded in us ...but we have our arms wrapped just as tightly around them.

Both idols and idol worshipers belong on the altar.

Total consummation.

Total wreckage.

See...

I am an eternal soul.

I emerge from the firestorm.

I stand amid the ashes.

Undone.

Remade.

Reclaimed.

Again.

and Again.

If I limit myself. I limit God.

This is not a merger.

This is a total consummation.

The truth about Juanita is: God knows the truth about me and for me to hide behind my wishes about myself...my beliefs...my gifts..my callings.. my roles..my faith....to hold onto MY LIFE... is not living at all.

No more...

My focus is shifting: from others ((the other 5 billion 999 million and so on others))....from myself... to the ONE..the only ONE...

Who IS truth.

Who does LOVE.

Who does KNOW.

I want to want to risk it all.

The truth about me is that I have always been his... human...broken...questioning...avoiding..hiding..running...

The truth about me is that HE has always been mine... waiting..watching..knowing...redeeming..loving

The truth about me is that I need the truth of who GOD really is to set me free...

and knowing it...

believing it...

walking it out...

is the only freedom there is.

I want to be free in-DEED.

I want the TRUTH...I was made for the TRUTH...

I can handle it Jack.

Environmental Change....

2007-12-07T10:46:00.000-06:00

I have four sons.
Ranging in age from 12-17.
You do the math.

Ok...if you hate math and you just entered a black hole of inadequacy,
I'll do it for you:
We had four kids in a five year span.

Let's pause for a moment and let that sink in.

I can actually say those figures out loud now and not twitch.

Not much.

My 14 year old just spent 45 required minutes on the exercise bike.
The timer shrieks through the house and he bounces off and starts running from the living room..through the family room, up the stairs, through the kitchen, down the hall to the den and back again, pausing only to declare that he feels like he can run faster now and sets off to prove his analysis.

I know the feeling.
After 45 minutes on the bike, upon standing, my legs feel light.
This is the feeling you get when you've been at sea....from what I hear.
My experience at sea is limited to the ferry trips between Nova Scotia and PEI, before they built the bridge and the trip across the strait between Vancouver and Victoria.

I think I'll write a book.

Yeah well...I know some sailors...
hmmm....
Moving on...

(((grin)))

Coming back to land after months at sea, sailors must regain their "land legs."
Heading out to sea after shore leave they must get their " sea legs" back.

ewwwww...

Kind of sounds like there are vaults of lower extremities stored somewhere convenient in the bowels of the ship.
Would make a good CSI show if you ask me.

Coming out of one environment into another requires a period of adjustment.
The effects of being immersed in a specific environment carries over into a new environment until the body relearns or assumes new knowledge to sustain it.
Case in point: the staggering walk of a person who has been at sea for a long period...or the reverse.

Balance.
Realignment.
Leveling.

Habits acquired in one environment, necessary for survival are not necessarily transferable to another environment.

We all have environments we grew up in, moved out into...married into...divorced out of...applied for...studied in...work in...fell into...and some were inadvertently visited upon us...

Some good.
Some great.
Some not so.
Some beautiful.
Some liberating.
Some ugly.
Some fascinating.
Some captivating.
Some painful
Some deadly.

Planned and unplanned.
Some we have Chosen. Created.

Others were Inflicted.

Some we bask in.
Some we are still ensnared in.
Some we have escaped.

All influencing.
Impacting.

Environments change like seasons.
Pass like storms.
Thaw like winter into spring.

We carry over residue from one to the next.
Like sailors needing to regain their land legs.

I have people in my life who are staggering out of one environment into another.

Staggering.

Me too.

M e T o o...as in also....as well...moi aussi....

It's not all bad.
There are many rooms inside me filled with different pressure systems...different environments.
Music and laughter seep out from under the door of one room, while tears and groans filter down the hall from another.
We are multi faceted human beings...
Joyous and grieving.
Loving and hating.
Complex and simple.

It's ok.

We are under the watchful care of One who is the Master of Inconvenient TRUTH.
He is the highroller in the Environmental LOBBY.
He doesn't recycle:
He RE-MAKES...
RENEWS
and RESTORES...
He RECLAIMS what has always been HIS.

me.
you..
us....
ALL of us...

even them...

you know them...

...the ones staggering around bumping into us and bruising us
...and sometimes even knocking us down.

The ones with their own environmental woes....

them too...

I am never going into environmental law.

But I have decided..If I can hug a tree..save a penguin...a seal or a rare double striped twickerdoodle...

Then when someone in environmental chaos emerges...
...and it may be me staggering onto your horizon someday....
I want to do what I see my Father doing...
and put on an extra layer of grace...
a blanket of compassion...
and a helmet...with high speed connection to my Father's voice...

Just in case the first two get a bit shredded.

Cause I know me.

And sometimes that truth is DAMN inconvenient.

EXTREME iNtErAcTiVe intimacy

2007-12-05T09:51:00.000-06:00

extreme:
"the highest degree"

Sounds exhausting.
Too much commitment.
Not enough time.
Too high maintenance.

interactive:
"to act on each other"

Sounds a bit excessive to me.
Sounds more than a bit invasive .
Definitely sounds uncomfortable.
Something to be avoided.
Personal space anyone...anyone?

intimate:
"most private and personal; deep and thorough"

You've got to be kidding right?
As if.
Not in a million.
Not going there.

The highest degree of action between you and another
where it is most private and personal...
deep and thorough.

Afraid?
Yet?

WHY???????

Vulnerable.
Unguarded.
Exposed.
Naked.
KNOWN.

Fear.....f E a R..... F E A R.....
gut wrenching..vomit inducing...
migraine producing...immobilizing..incapacitating
DEADLY
fear

Run.
As far as you can.
You will always arrive back here.
Why?
For this you were born.
For this you were made.

this is LIFE...
LIFE is this...

To KNOW and be KNOWN

You are known.... believe it.... hold fast to that truth...
You are known....and LOVED in spite of all the knowledge...or... because of it....

Enter.
Engage.
Interact. Extremely. Intimately.

Live.

5 Things I am Thankful For...Meme

2007-12-04T16:10:00.000-06:00

I was tagged by Kelly to write this meme.

Thanksgiving is over.
I got the memo.
Now on to Christmas ...where the partying begins.
That's where the real money is.
You know....the loot...the bounty...the list as long as my arm.
The..."I know they really love me if they buy me....." season.
Or....."They never will, so I might as well prepare myself."
The internal dialogues over the month of December could probably give work to struggling young therapists for decades:

"I can't take being invisible for one more minute.... "
" This Christmas stuff is all fake anyways."
"Why can't they just see who I really am and accept me ?"
"Who said this is the season of giving...I am dying here..alone..."
"I can't afford this ...but I can't tell them..they'll never understand...they'll just think I am a failure."
"I hate them."
"I hate myself."
"WHO the HELL thought up Christmas anyways?"

There are millions, in this country alone, during this season, experiencing: loneliness, despair, terminal illness, abuse, abandonment, financial ruin, suicidal thoughts, debilitating fears and so on.
Oh God.
Thankful?
Damn straight!
I have not walked this earth for 40 years without my share of some of the above.
My journey has had some plot twists that I would never have chosen to put into the script.
But I am not writing my story...that falls into far better hands than mine.
Today I am simply grateful to be able to proclaim:

1. I am thankful for AWARENESS
I have always known there was a God. I have always known it is not just the destination..but the journey itself. I know I have never been alone...
That I can say the name of God with any intimacy or any clarity whatsoever...I am aware..is a miracle.
I am aware that love does not originate in me but fills me and flows through me....for this awareness I am thankful.

2. I am thankful for GRACE
Without it I could not breathe...I could not look on others with love... I could not accept myself.
It sustains me in my dark places...where I have failed..and continue to struggle.
It accomplishes the miracle of allowing me to call myself child of God.
The bible says GRACE ABOUNDS....that I can handle.
Abounding GRACE... for this I am thankful.

3. I am thankful for BELIEF
The knowledge that God believes in me and thus creates the ability for me to believe in him...is truly the foundational element of my entire existence. The capacity to believe and keep on believing is rooted in the knowledge that HE keeps me there...thank GOD...yes you God...for this I give deep thanks.

4. I am thankful for TRUST
In a world full of broken trust, you might ask how this is possible.
Am I perfectly trustworthy?
Have I ever broken my word?
The answers are no and yes.
How does that foster a thankfulness for TRUST you wonder....
Well...
There is not a person on the planet who is worthy of all trust.
PERIOD.
But still I choose to trust and work at holding the trust of those God has chosen to share my life with. I trust the Father's ability to hold all things together in the midst of utter chaos...
I trust his knowledge of the present, his interpretation of the past and his design for the future. How it all plays out is in his court.
Sometimes I hurt people.
Most definitely not on purpose.
It is possible to hurt someone by simply being you... in the moment.
And sometimes I am wrong.
I trust God to redeem those moments and balance it all out...because I am not capable of explaining things as clearly as he is.
I trust him to make me worthy of the trust of others...and to keep trust with me.
For this I am thankful.

5. I am thankful for HOPE
A long time ago I wrote in a journal this statement:

"Hope is never lost ... it is abandoned..."
I still hold to that statement, but I would like to add to it:

"Hope is never lost...it is abandoned...but though abandoned it still does it's work."

That is not meant as a criticism to those who feel they are without hope.

The truth is...until our last breath and beyond there is hope, whether we believe in it or not.
We were not the architects of our creation...what gives us the right or ability to say what is and is not possible?
There is a force at work in the world...in us.
It is woven into our parts.
It beats with our hearts.
Courses through our veins.
Resonates with every breath.
It is like the seed of a plant that falls into a crack in the pavement or in the crevice of a rock. Over time and with great effort the plant breaks free and makes its way towards the sun though hard pressed on every side.
The goal is the sun.
Plants surge towards it....trees throw up their many limbed arms in glorious panoramic worship....birds sing at rising and setting...waters reflect its light.
With all of creation around indicating that seasons are not permanent...dawn always approaches...the storm always ends...life finds a way...

Hope springs eternal because its source is in THE ETERNAL.

..And the Eternal never abandons.. He cannot. He is constant. He is present. Always.

Now ABIDES these three things... faith ...HOPE and Love...
Hope ABIDES...it cannot be lost...for this I am truly thankful.

Thankfulness is a state of being...not limited to good times, gift giving...or turkey infested holidays. It exists in bodies racked with pain, children who have next to nothing...men who have lost their jobs...women who have lost their babies....it can be found in the darkest of places, in the most confining of prisons around the world.

Thanks be to God.

Wonder....

2007-12-03T17:11:00.001-06:00

So I just got back from spending $366 at Superstore. My reward for spending this exhorbitant amount of money is a free turkey ( I am not required to cook one this year) and a $25 gift card.
Why don't they give you option B: $50 off your current bill???????
Nuff said????
Definitely not.
Filling the cart seems not very difficult..filling the bank account that fills the cart is another matter all together. Filling four teenage boys and keeping them full is nigh on impossible.

The season is upon us. You know the one. The feasting and gifting and celebrating one. The one where it is ok to be emotionally attached to your food. No! It's more than ok..it is required!

Ok...just a minute...I have to take a break here and let you in on what is going on in my house as I write this:
One of the items I bought in the aforementioned cart was a mesh bag full of mixed nuts...in their shells of course. Tradition must be upheld even though technology has provided us with shelled nuts in various forms which we can eat by the handful..and I mean FULL...without any labor on our part at all. A handy dandy advancement in my estimation. Today I participated in tradition and brought this item home. At the present, as a result of not being able to find the barbaric tool known as a nut cracker, my sons are randomly trying to crack the nuts with their teeth ( massive dental bills looming), throwing them on the hardwood floor, slamming them on the counter and my all time favorite: using my garlic press.

Nuff said.

You may now return to your regular program.

Today I was fixated on money. On how much it took to feed, shelter and clothe us all. Feed us healthily with very little extras and no eating out; clothe us at second hand stores and shelter us in Manitoba which is way less expensive than Calgary where we used to live.

Money... money... money... tis that season as well.

As I arrived at my father's home after shopping, to pick up three boxes of deer meat GIVEN to us by a family friend, I was informed that my sister Suez was trying to get in touch with me.

This is where the WONDER kicks in.

Everything else fades away.

The grocery bill.

The need for winter boots.

The need for winter everything.

Contemplating the size of our first heating bill arriving next week.

As I get off the phone with Suez and we message back and forth on facebook... I am in awe of how quickly everything shifts and how perspective changes ...how the wonder of it all seeps in and overshadows all the cares.

People.

Sisters.

Friends.

Eternal souls mixed up in our everyday lives.

The stresses of life can overwhelm, especially in the season we are entering.
The dollar signs: $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ can dominate the landscape..if you let them.

GOD is bigger..more majestic and awe-inspiring than my bank account whether it be in the red or in the black.

HE made me ...in his image...for intimacy... he created me for love.. to love...

Today I heard my sister's voice. We talked about our desire for friendship and made plans for the week.... to be with each other, to share with each other....

Heaven on earth....

Oh the Wonder.....

Calvin and Hobbes 101...

2007-12-01T08:20:00.000-06:00

The harsh ring of the telephone awoke me around 7am. It rang only once depriving me of the privilege of seeing the number come up on call display and subsequently calling the poor miserable soul who disturbed my Saturday morning sleep-in and giving them WHAT FOR???

I lay in bed with that grit your teeth knowledge that further sleep was a fantasy fast growing ridiculous by the fact that two of my sons were awake in the living room and one was industriously stirring up the coals and rebuilding the fire in the wood stove.

My first intellectual reading of the day came from: "The Authoritative Calvin and Hobbes" which has irretrievably set the tone for my day....and I quote:

"Despite that amazing display of cunning, reflex and physical prowess, your tail still has a death grip on your butt."

Ahhhh the incomparable wisdom. Matchless. Priceless. Ruthless.

What can I say?

Rob Bell...of Velvet Elvis fame...and myriad NOOMA videos, has just released his latest clip called Name. One of the most freeing statements he makes is this:
"You have to claim your past...you might not like it, be proud of it or anything ..but you have to own it. It is yours."

Rob Bell....Calvin and Hobbes...

who da thunk it?

I look back over the years and yep...they're still there. Firmly attached. I can't do anything about it. Sure I try...I chase my tail with the best of them. In fact I have regular Olympic Style events randomly scheduled in. I award myself prizes and plan future events based on my level of proficiency at the moment.

Like Hobbes I lay out on the floor after such an event and feebly request:

"Could you stop the room please, I'd like to get off!"

And I do sometimes. I just get off at that stop.
I pull the cord...
I walk to the nearest exit.
I get off.

The problem is, at that moment...I am nowhere. I am trapped by something that no longer exists. I am defined by something that IS NOT NOW.... and IS NOT ME.

I ask myself questions all day long because I am suspicious of my own opinion which comes out as statements of fact quite regularly. Oh sure..there are things I am sure of...I am sure of God. I don't understand him, but that has never been a prerequisite.
I know my story, however, my interpretation of my story as it has unfolded for 40 years is in constant rewriting mode. I realize that I can only be where I am at in the moment and that in the moment I only have the wisdom present at the time. Which is why...the past remains firmly attached to my BUTT. Because God in his wisdom is making all things new...including me. He allows me and causes me to grow and as I pursue HIM..even without fully understanding him, I see the landscape more clearly.
The future is unknown.
The past is known...but in need of perspective...
Basically as I grow, God gives me improved vision...at 40 this is a good thing.

The catch is: I have to LOOK in order to see.

I have to own my story.

And I need to let God be the one who tells it.

Because even though we both were there...I think he always had the best seat.

Good Morning..How Do you Feel Today?

2007-11-30T09:56:00.000-06:00

I watched the sun rise this morning after cleaning out the ashes from my wood stove and getting another fire blazing merrily. COLD. Enough said!
Tall evergreens stand straight and tall, etched against a mesmerizing blue sky casting long shadows on the glistening snow like fence lines across the back yard. A pileated woodpecker adorns one of the branches of the oak tree outside my bedroom window.
It's a new day.
I feel like crap.
My chest hurts with the inner working out of issues and beliefs about myself and my relationships that are not in keeping with the captivating beauty of this morning landscape.
I hurt.
I wrestle.
I question.
I cry.
I surrender.
Not to the feelings...but to something bigger.
More than anything I want truth and the freedom it brings with it.
I need to feel these things because my feelings reveal my beliefs.
Not all these beliefs are rooted and grounded in TRUTH...
Just because I believe something ...doesn't make it true.
Believe me.. there are many things coming up lately in my life engendering feelings that are dehibilitating, crippling and cause nausea to rise in the back of my throat.
They swarm over me and seem to consume my entire landscape.
There are days when simply breathing hurts like hell.
Jeremiah the prophet comes to mind.
The name Jeremiah means: "to hurl or thrust as into calamity"
I am so there.
The world we live in and the relationships we are surrounded with are full of calamity.
We are thrust into these situations and lives full of our own inner struggles...like being held inside the fist of God.
Some of the most meaningful words I find in the book of Jeremiah go something like this :
"I have loved you with an everlasting love...I have drawn you forth with lovingkindness"
He always has. Loved me that is. And he continues to draw me forth...from disaster, beliefs, calmity...out of my emotions..into his reality.
How do I feel?
I feel many things today, but I am not going to stop there...I am going to discover, in the drawing forth, what these feelings are saying...and where I need to surrender and what I need to hold onto...
So...Good Morning...How are you feeling this morning?

Emerging...the light is blinding and I can't see!

2007-11-29T18:51:00.001-06:00

Seriously, I have been wallowing in the dark for some time now. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I used to be scared of the dark.That is no longer the case. The dark is comforting, safe....unchallenging...sedating. The dark lets me be. I can't even see me, but who cares.

Being the person I am, however, I must emerge. I can't stand myself for long in that state. Self loathing is bad in the dark because there is no room for truth and although glimmers of light pierce the darkness every once in a while...you can close your eyes and pretend it never really happened. When you open them again the cocoon of darkness is there to embrace you yet again.

Emerging hurts. Pain..lots of pain. My muscles are cramped, my skin is sensitive...and my eyes..OH GOD! I have discovered that as a child I was afraid of the dark, but as an adult the light is much more fear inspiring. The light is lethal, uncompromising..terrifying in it's unveiling powers. Light rushes through every available opening that there is, it pierces every crack and crevice. It illuminates, exposes and reveals. It cast shadows when something stands in its path and reveals with perfect clarity the blockage.

Today I have emerged with a will stronger than I thought I had... the battle was fierce and I am shaking but still standing. My eyes hurt and I feel pale and unsubstantial. I can feel the tremors deep in my core.

Having left the "sheltering dark" I can see the lie for what it is... while there, I saw the light separate from the landscape : ruthless and uncaring, savage in it's intensity, unforgiving in it's revelations. Now that I stand shaking on the edge of the shadows I know that the LIGHT is the SHELTER, it is the landscape, it is the source. Light holds and caresses, warms and sustains... enables, enlivens and shows everything for what it is.

I am beautiful. I am alive.... I was blind... and after I stop tearing up in the brightness...I will see again!